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Delve into the quirky and psych-tinged world of Brazilian pianist, composer and multi-instrumentalist Mauricio Fleury.

With more than a hint to Brazilian jazz greats like Azymuth, Deodato and CTI Records in their prime, Revoada is a groove based jazz-framed record, primed with other transitory musical vignettes which touches on Turkish psych and soul-jazz born out of the 70's film soundtrack genre.

Revoada is a 6 track album and storyboard of Mauricio's migration and travels through Brazil's geographical oddities , its rural and urban enclaves. Recorded in Brazil, it's the result of numerous treks through funky flea markets, soaking up old vinyls and vintage cultural artefacts combined with a new life led in Berlin since 2022.

Mauricio, as well as a founding member of Bixiga 70 (google Brazilian Afrobeat pioneers), a band he fronted for over 12 years, is also an in-demand collaborator and musician who as a pianist, guitarist and even percussionist has shared stages and studios with the likes of Brazilian greats including Gal Costa, Emicida, Lucas Santtana, João Donato and Liniker.

In 2007 he had a life-changing experience meeting Tony Allen, at the Red Bull Music Academy. After hanging out, chatting music and life, Tony insisted to Mauricio to participate with Tony in a jam with blacktronica and soulful house music pioneers Ron Trent, Theo Parrish and Steve Spacek. Mauricio sums it up, "From that moment on, I was never afraid to collaborate musically with anyone, no matter who's playing. It also brought me to researching the connection between Brazilian music and Afrobeat which is something that still means the world to me".

Another unforgettable session Mauricio undertook happened alongside João Donato and Marcos Valle, playing Donato's classic album Quem É Quem, live, a record seen as a blueprint for second generation bossa nova. Mauricio has worked with Gal Costa on two albums, Estratosférica Ao Vivo and her last studio album A Pele do Futuro. Fabio Sá and Vitor Cabral (bassist and drummer on Revoada) were playing with Gal at her last concerts, including in Berlin in 2022 before she passed.

In contemporary music, Mauricio was part of Toy Selectah and Mexican Institute of Sound's Compass project. He's worked with Colombia's Los Pirañas and has even recorded a mysterious and unreleased album with Quantic.

Revoada shows signature traces of Thelonious Monk, Ramsey Lewis' swinging soul sound, Deodato's drama, and styles from further afield, spreading into Turkish psych and Ethiopian jazz, when the time is right. Each track, led always by Mauricio playing multiple instruments with a choice selection of guests and core members on bass and drums, highlights Fleury's meticulous approach to finding the right timbre, utilising his arsenal of organs and effects pedals to set the mood, taking the listener to a specific place or memory that has shaped him.

A vinyl DJ for over 25 years and someone who is immersed in digger and collector's culture, Mauricio places a lot of emphasis on the importance of the complimentary relationship between two artforms (DJ and composer/producer) in the sense of having a broad repertoire of musical knowledge, references and perhaps predictably, being a Brazilian, understanding the connection between rhythms. This is an impressive debut album that struts itself right into the runout groove.

On »Empty Room,« David Granström works with slow transformations, cyclical and isometric patterns as well as just intonation as a way to create harmonic stability, allowing his long-form pieces to develop their own unique temporal and spatial qualities. A prolific figure in Stockholm’s experimental drone scene and a collaborator of Hallow Ground label mates Maria W Horn and Mats Erlandsson, the Swedish composer navigates through moments of quietude and crushing volume on these five tracks. Sonically and atmospherically, the pieces on »Empty Room« simultaneously call to mind Fennesz’s most meditative work or the physical experience of seeing Sunn O))) live, blending guitar recordings and synthesised sounds with forceful effects similar to those of Mario Díaz de Leon’s Oneirogen project while still being as moving and delicate as Alessandro Cortini’s solo work. The album is marked by melodies and harmonies that are the product of a peculiar working process that turned the composer into an intent listener collaborating with, rather than simply using technology.

Having been invited by the self-organising artist group The Non Existent Center for a residency to Ställbergs Gruva, a defunct iron ore mine in Sweden’s Bergslagen region, Granström took his guitar as a starting point for his compositional work that heavily relies on real-time sound synthesis. »I seldomly use the instrument as a sound source in the final compositions and rather transcribe and orchestrate the harmonic structures using sound synthesis,« he explains. »On this album however, I chose to include the actual recordings of the guitar in order to extend the spectra between non-referential synthetic sounds and embodied referential sounds.« Working with precise tunings in order to blend the timbre of the synthesis with the harmonic structures of the composition, he created composite sound objects in which the harmonic elements blend into each other.

Through the re-amplification of synthetic musical materials from the inside of the abandoned mine, his original compositions were enriched with site-specific sound qualities before he further refined them in a singular working process. Granström works with algorithmic and generative processes, using the SuperCollider programming environment and thus blurring the lines between generative and creative forms of composition. »One of the things that I like about this way of working is that it creates a distance between myself as a composer and myself as a listener of the music that is produced entirely by the system,« he says. Granström’s technologically aided eschewing of the conventions of composing doesn’t make the end result any less personal, however. By listening again and again to the newly generated output, Granström simply took on a different role in the process of finalising the music, with the technology and the sounds becoming his co-authors.

By creating systems that generate music, he gains a new perspective on (musical) time, says Granström. »There doesn't have to be a fixed length to the music at all,« he explains. »And by writing music with this in mind, my focus tends to shift towards writing cyclical structures that gradually change and transform over time.« Simple parts, in other words, that emerge as the five complex wholes that form »Empty Room,« a record that itself seems to take on different forms with every new listen.

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

‘Pilot’ is the debut album from London quintet Miniseries. Channelling the epic sweep of TV themes and movie soundtracks into resplendent space rock they explore themes of youth and ageing, heartbreak and paranoia, euphoria and existential dread.

Songwriter Doug Morch (Longview) had been working on largely acoustic folk songs when he met Angela Gannon (The Magic Numbers) at Glastonbury 2017. Romance and musical collaboration ensued. The band coalesced in the hallowed environs of Farringdon's The Betsey Trotwood pub – a musical nexus where burgeoning indie and Americana scenes collide – where they met fellow songwriter and guitarist Dermot Watson (from Brighton's The Dials) and drummer Danny Abbasi and were joined by Doug's former bandmate Aidan Banks on bass. When they came together, their indie folk mutated into motorik art rock, with their first single being an eight-minute jam called "Road".

When it came to capturing their sound, the band reached for maverick musician and producer Sean Read. They recorded tracks at Read's Famous Times studio in Clapton, London, as well as at Edwyn Collins' Clashnarrow in Helmsdale, Scotland – one of the world's most breathtaking and idiosyncratic studio locations, adding unquantifiable magic to the proceedings.

For the closing track "May You Always", they headed to another studio imbued with tangible inspiration: Blueprint Studio in Salford with producer Craig Potter (Elbow) at the helm. For the song, Dermot drew cinematic inspiration from the Withnail & I line "I'll never play The Dane", the song is about realising that the things you aspired to in youth will never come to pass and being at peace with that realisation.

The recurring themes of youth and ageing are apparent in the resplendent lead track ‘You're Gold’ – a heartfelt call for young people to reject materialism and exploitative influencer culture in search of life's deeper meaning, with stylistic nods to The Pixies and early Stereolab.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, "Sepia" explores old age and fading memories through dementia, where the ending descends into chaos like a fragmenting mind. Elements of "Sepia" are foreshadowed in the album's opening track, the instrumental "Pilot Theme", which pays homage to TV theme music, invoking spy thrillers or perhaps something otherworldly from science fiction.

“Offcumdens” is a Calder Valley, Yorkshire term for people who live in the area but come from somewhere else. Hailing from Bury, Lancashire, Morch wrote the song while living in Hebden Bridge (and watching too much Happy Valley) and found himself being an offcumden. It’s a pop at the kind of local nativism which breeds intolerance and an illustration of the sinister rise of wider political populism.

Miniseries' Pilot is just the beginning of the story. Enthralling and atmospheric, the London quintet have created something familiar yet timeless. As singer Doug Morch says, "It's the Miniseries Pilot episode. Like the TV episode a studio makes to test whether it's viable.” In the age of streaming and box-sets, this is an album to truly binge on. We can’t wait to hear what happens next.

In 2022, In the Red Records released The Great Confrontation, an album of instrumental electronic music by Chip Kinman. It was Chip’s first solo album; his previous recording, This American Blues, by his band Ford Madox Ford, was issued just prior to the 2018 death of his brother Tony. The Kinmans had been partnered musically since they were teens, in a variety of now-legendary projects: the OG California punk band the Dils, the pathfinding cowpunk unit Rank and File, the ear-shattering electro-rock duo Blackbird, and the Western music twosome Cowboy Nation.

In the wake of The Great Confrontation, Chip and In the Red plotted another record. The resultant collection, Chip Kinman, is reflective, soulful, and profoundly affecting, a statement of identity and a look back at life that avoids the pitfalls that could derail an autobiographical work.

"I had to figure out something to write about, and I thought, it’s time to make that record," Chip says. "A long time ago, Tony and I were talking about singer-songwriters, and he said, ‘If you’re going to sing about your life, you better have had a fucking interesting life.’ And I thought, I have. I’ve gotta deep-dive into that. I figured, if I was going to write about what it was like, how was I gonna approach that? How was I going to say that without being nostalgic or without being maudlin or without being over-celebratory? It it was, well, just say it like it was."

Swan Song

The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 tracks 2 to 11 was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.

Ethiopia1976.

The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.

ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä

It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.

The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.

Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.

The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.

Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…

1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.

Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.

The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.

Dahlak Band, forgotten by History

Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.

Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.

It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.

A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.

With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.

In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.

Warning! Masterpiece!

»Hug of Gravity« is the second solo album by Raphael Loher and his first for Hallow Ground. The Swiss pianist and composer uses piano preparations, tape machines, and digital means to forge an aesthetic of playful reduction and rhythmic abstraction. The source material for these four sprawling pieces was culled from recordings of the artist performing the album’s predecessor, 2022’s »Keemuun.« Loher used them in a painstaking two-part working process to create an album that is both a product of and an ode to transformation, exploring themes of alternative temporalities and spatialities. »Hug of Gravity« oscillates between experimental electronic music, ambient, and minimal music and calls to mind the work of artists like William Basinski, Linda Catlin Smith, or label mate Andrius Arutiunian.

Loher laid the foundation for »Hug of Gravity« in 2020 with ten solo performances at his studio, during which he presented the pieces from his debut album. For these intimate concerts, he prepared the piano with modelling clay in order to move beyond the well-tempered tuning that dominates most of Western music. He then used a consecutive three-month residency in the Blenio Valley to refine the recordings. »I cut up and rearranged the material, then transferred the results—around 30 pieces—to a varispeed tape machine and then back to the computer. After that was done, I cut them up and rearranged them again,« he laughs. By radically reworking the material, he created an album that eschews traditional notions of time and space.

Loher points out the influence that his surroundings had on him. »The process created the music—and the place was essential to the process.« he says. He wandered through the mountains for up to nine or ten hours a day, which gave him a sense of what he calls expanded temporality. »Time just felt longer, my experiences seemed more diverse and nuanced, and it was as if I perceived my environment more clearly,« he explains. This shift in Loher’s perception of time and space—the latter also expressed in the album’s title—influenced his work with the varispeed tape machine. It allowed him to change the pitch of different recordings while layering them to let interference patterns emerge and emphasise the emotional qualities of the unconventional tunings he had used.

In this way, Loher constructed numerous interlocking narrative arcs throughout »Hug of Gravity,« an album that is ever-changing; an exercise in calm ecstasy that provides its audience with the feeling of being removed from conventional time and space. This approach is also reflected in the artwork for »Hug of Gravity,« which is based on drawings Loher made during his residency at Blenio Valley. Their fine hand-drawn lines run in parallel and let incidental patterns emerge, an effect that is only multiplied when the six different drawings that accompany each vinyl copy of the album are overlapping, forming ever-new visual constellations.

The Germany-based band Rikas' new album, "Soundtrack For A Movie That Has Not Been Written Yet," promises to be their most cohesive and contemplative project to date

Comprising 11 brisk yet beautiful tracks, the album showcases the band's tight tempos and mellow delivery. "We started this record just to have fun. It's not been that easy, because so much change has happened," guitarist and keyboardist Sascha Scherer reflects. "We've had to learn to adapt... This record is more inward-looking. We were reflecting. " Scherer further explains, "I think a lot of bands have trouble staying still. When you stop touring and moving to a new city each day, you feel lost. I feel like our new album is capturing that feeling of go, go, go." This feeling of inertia contains layers: there's a sense of restlessness, but also brotherhood and camaraderie-- feelings Rikas aim to depict in each of the album's videos. "For our sophomore album, we wanted to create a very homogeneous one," Scherer continues. "Which was not easy to achieve because we have made the experience that throughout all of our records every song differs from each other. We have four songwriters who happen to be also multi-instrumentalists in our band, and that's why we don't have to put much effort into diverse record making. Instead, we had to put pressure on ourselves to make something consistent. But we also didn't want to make every song sound the same. So the concept of the album lays in its topics."The songs for "Soundtrack For A Movie That Has Not Been Written Yet" were written over the past year, adapting and shaping old snippets and ideas, as well as creating songs completely from scratch. "For some reason, when we started writing and listening back to the songs, they all shared a similar feeling of cruising, traveling, being in motion," Scherer says. "This wasn't intentional at first, but felt more and more suiting as we proceeded with the writing. We found we'd enjoy the songs most while driving in our van, looking out the window, seeing the landscapes passing by. This has something very meditating to itself already, amplified even more by a suiting soundtrack. This is the soundtrack we tried to write. The album in its entirety is supposed to feel warm, hugging, like 'being bedded in cotton.'" For the visual content of the album, the band decided to travel to San Remo, northern Italy, to capture some of the late November sun. "In a way, you could say we tried to film the first part of the movie whose soundtrack we had just written," Scherer concludes. "Soundtrack For A Movie That Has Not Been Written Yet" is a testament to Rikas' ability to adapt and reflect on their journey, offering listeners a meditative and immersive experience that captures the essence of being in motion.

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

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

James Brown wants to know one thing before he and his band begin Sex Machine. “Can I get into the thing, really?,” he asks. His cohorts enthusiastically respond in the affirmative. And for the next hour and change, Mr. Dynamite gets into it and more, turning in a sweat-soaked, feet-moving, hip-swiveling, emotion-purging, in-the-red, drop-everything-you’re-doing-and-dance performance for the ages. Ranked by Rolling Stone among the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, the sweeping 1970 effort towers as a testament to Brown’s inimitable legacy as well as the peak powers of his voice, vibrancy, and bands.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set presents Sex Machine in audiophile sound for the first time. It explodes with the energy the lightning-strike music demands. Dynamic, immediate, present, airy: Everything from the brassiness and fluidity of the horns to the snap and decay of the snare to the swell and carry of the organ comes across in full-range perspective.

Then there’s Brown’s superhuman singing, which here emerges with a purity, naturalism, and transparency that ensure you feel everything. Screeching, shouting, pleading, moaning, preaching, stinging, commanding, testifying, crooning, humming: The Godfather of Soul contributes one of the finest vocal performances known to man. This definitive 55th anniversary reissue of Brown’s monster funk statement further exhibits a combination of clarity, solidity, separation, and imaging that helps bring to light what he and his crack ensembles committed to tape. Both in the studio and on the stage.

Just how lifelike does this reissue sound? Senior Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab engineer Krieg Wunderlich, who handled the remaster, notes: “There were some artifacts that sounded a bit like mistracking. But they turned out to be breath blasts on the vocal microphone. That is part of history. JB was workin' hard, and breathin' hard. And there was an edit the timing of that was truly strange. Again, a part of history.”

Originally marketed as a live album, Sex Machine contains six songs recorded in the studio and later overdubbed with canned crowd noise and reverberation. Save for “Low Down Popcorn,” the tracks on the latter half stem from a phenomenal performance captured in October 1969 at Bell Auditorium in Brown’s adopted hometown of Augusta, GA. The special relationship between the singer, the audience, and the location is palpable.

As the 1960s gave way to a new decade, Brown experienced immense success and dealt with unexpected change. Soul Brother Number One soon expanded his idea for an official live album captured in Augusta when the ensemble that backed him on that date morphed into the original version of the world-famous J.B.’s just months after the show. The virtuosic abilities, sticky chemistry, and rhythm-forward nature of the J.B.’s prompted him to book a one-off session in Cincinnati, OH, on a late July night.

Anchored by brothers William “Bootsy” Collins and Phelps “Catfish” Collins, the group — as well as two different drummers — laid down a nearly 11-minute rendition of “Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” and a thrilling medley of “Bewildered,” “I Got the Feeling,” and “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose.” A pair of then-recent studio singles cut in separate locations in 1969, “Brother Rapp” and “Low Down Popcorn,” each featuring his prior group, took care of the second LP worth of material that complements the originally planned live set.

Complicated? Somewhat. Unusual? Definitely. But just as he elevated the expectations for all present and future R&B artists, Brown not only makes it all work. He makes it positively electrifying.

“Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” is alone deserving of a dissertation on the art of funk music, seeing it moves up and down akin to an oil derrick, witnesses Brown unleashing a trademark series of grunts, squeaks, and “good god” asides, and glides to a hypnotic groove that won’t quit. Or look to the syncopated rhythms of “Brother Rapp (Part I and Part II),” one of multiple pieces here that signify the point where Brown began viewing every instrument as a percussive tool. Brown closes the three-song medley with his new band with a skedaddling “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” which provides jolts on the order of sticking your finger into a socket.

Not that the actual live material falls short in any way. Setting an insistent tempo for the vitality that follows, “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing” positions Brown as a role model, leader, and self-sufficient entrepreneur. All simmer and boil, the short and sweet “Licking Stick” dares you to keep pace. The floating, almost comforting “Spinning Wheel” spotlights the instrumental prowess of Maceo Parker and company, and functions as a seamless segue into the tender, horn-saluted “If I Ruled the World.”

And Brown and his mates still aren’t done. Just try to resist the one-two closing punch of “I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)” and “Mother Popcorn.” Mercy.

Ain’t it funky? Sure ‘nuff.

With this release, I think I'll be the only one to have released something from every single one of Kenny's solo jungle aliases!

A few years back, he started on an album project where he would combine the works of 2 of his aliases for his Amiga productions, DJ Mindhunter for the hardcore tracks & Retr0n One of the jungle tracks.

If I remember right, I think the plan was to originally release it on his label Green Bay Wax, but he was too preoccupied in the work being put into other projects of his at the time. The release was then going to be coming out on Parallax Recordings, a label based in Berlin, run by Vali, who I've worked with many times in the past for releases on his label but then Vali was also focused on other releases he had scheduled for his label. The tracks sat in limbo for quite a while, whilst I had been playing some of them on radio & in club sets and eventually, Kenny offered for me to release the tracks on Future Retro London.

I asked Vali if he would be OK with this, since the tracks are meant to come out on Parallax & I also wanted him to do the artwork for it (he does all the artwork for his label). He was unsure if he could do the artwork as his capacity for design was quite taken up by his own outlet, but he floated the idea of doing this release as a joint label project so that it would be a bit more able to fit in with his workload.

And like that, the project is now finally out, after some of the featured tracks having been sat around for many years! Big up to Kenny for his wicked tunes & to Vali for co-releasing this project with me, as well as handling the design.

Atsuko Niina's debut album released by Teichiku in 1983. All songs are covers of Western songs, with 9 songs having Japanese lyrics and only the fifth song having
English lyrics. In recent years, its reputation among city pop and Japanese jazz fans has skyrocketed, and it is now at a premium on the used market!

The album features Japanese lyrics for such bossa nova classics as "One Note Samba" "Ipanema no Musume" "Wave" and "Oishii Mizu" as well as American popular
tunes like “MR.Bojangles” “Asu ni Kakeru Hashi”. covers of such American favorites as "Xasas Xasas Xasas" and "Besame Mucho".

Sound production was done by Jun Irie, who was active as a member of Logic System, and arrangements were shared with Hirotaka Izumi, who was also a member
of The Square at the time. The Square and guitarist Kenji Kitajima participated in the backing.

The entire album has a high quality city pop and fusion sound, with the overwhelming highlight being the high-speed samba arrangement of "Man or Boy (Ipanema no Musume).

The most overwhelming track is "Man or Boy (Ipanema no Musume)" with a high-speed samba arrangement. It is a Japanese rare groove track that can be used in
today's club jazz scene as it is!

You can enjoy her ever-changing vocals on the innovative and typical fusion sound of the time.

Liner notes: Kenji Kitajima, Hirotaka Izumi
(original liner notes of the time are reprinted)
Original release: 1983 Teichiku GM-140
Original label: TEICHIKU ENTERTAINMENT, INC.

US Black Friday 2025 Release. There are very few albums in the psych/punk/hard rock/private presses strata that garner the sort of universal awe and accolades that Fraction’s almighty Moonblood LP does, and even fewer records in the world that could be dubbed ‘Christian Rock’ incur such fierce devotion. Indeed some records just meteorically lift themselves out any genre tag with brilliance and sheer defiance--and Moonblood is surely one of them. Based in LA, Fraction was a ragged collection of working-class musicians--the line-up was ringleader Jim Beach--vocals; Don Swanson--lead guitar, Curt Swanson--drums, Victor Hemme--bass, and Robert Meinel--rhythm guitar. Beach himself describes those early days: “The guys met through various acquaintances that we had in LA. All of us had been in bands before, but were seeking something with more teeth. We had a small studio in an industrial complex in North Hollywood and started practicing sometimes as early as 4:30 AM. We all had day jobs, so we did what we could.”

Amazingly the recording sessions for the album were recorded similarly on the fly, as Beach further states: “The Moonblood recording took place at Whitney’s Studio in Glendale, CA, early in 1971. On a strict budget, these songs were recorded in less than three hours—all of them “one takes.” We played, all 5 of us, simultaneously-- there were no studio effects, no overdubbing or any additional sound effects added. Basically what you hear is considered ‘old school’ recording.”

This workmanlike description in no way prepares one for the pure tortured genius the session wrought. Particularly noteworthy is Beach’s vocals—as commonly stated, the spirit of Jim Morrison is conjured in his deep baritone, which gives way to unparalleled pained howls, at times bathed in delay which trails into the abyss. Fascinatingly enough, Beach cites the much punker Love as his fave LA band over the Doors, and also gives influence-nods to proto-everything rockers The Yardbirds and to Dylan, whose dark word tapestries surely inspired Beach’s lyrics (though lines from The Doors’ “L’America” pop up on the LP) Whatever the case, the man clearly has a vision, as even the stark sleeve concept is Beach’s own. Equally as integral to the Fraction sound is lead guitarist Don Swanson—his blown-out fuzz riffs set a template for what is now commonly known as “stoner rock” or “acid punk,” and his solos consist of jagged, wah-wah-ed shards of notes, with his amplifier clearly pushed to the limit.

Beach says: “Don’s guitar was always my driving force and he did everything he could to keep it over the top. You’d never know that (his sound) was coming from an old, broken down Esquire. Don kept it alive!” The other members contributions shouldn’t be underappreciated though-- drummer Curt Swanson keeps things at a constant simmer, and then boils over when the whole band launches into snarling glory. The band and LP as a whole equals something indescribably intense from start to finish—comparisons to the Detroit late 60s high-energy bands like The Stooges and MC5 abound, as well as the sort of late 60s damaged spirit lurking in biker clubs and disgruntled Vietnam vets. The song cycle on side 1 of the LP in particular cuts to the emotional core, with severely charged dark lyrics like “Extend your thumbs and burn the darkness out of her.” Which brings us to the Christian aspect--it often can confuse listeners. The Fraction/Beach world of religion is complex and perhaps a bit pagan/sinister than most---fire and brimstone, temptation, and the truth-seeker being burned by this hell on earth—or perhaps as Beach himself best put it: “Speaking for myself, as a believer, it’s been a progressive experience since my childhood.

I think we’re all basically driven to live more than religion.” The album was pressed in a run of but a few hundred to little attention in the day, but now inferior bootlegs flood the marketplace, and originals of Moonblood command thousands of dollars. So enjoy this all-inclusive reissue, which also features for the first time on vinyl, 3 lost tracks-- like the more acoustic-minded “prisms” and “dawning light,” as well as the proto-metal choogle of “Intercessor’s Blues.”

From 1968 through to the mid 1970’s the reggae beat began to slow down,some say due to the extreme heat hitting down onto Kingston Town and its surrounding enclaves. People needed something less strenuous to dance to. The Ska and Rocksteady Sounds (see 101 Orange Street KS007) that rocked Jamaica previously, had now found a slower tempo and become more ‘Dread’ lyrically to suit the times. Reggae music has always moved within the social climate it found itself in and this set here, as we ‘Return To Orange Street’ was ROOTS ROCK REGGAE TIME....

The Rastafarian message that runs through this collection of ‘Reality’, sometimes labelled ‘Sufferers’ music,is strong and works on many levels. It can come across on a heavy rhythm and vocal cut. Its example represented here by Prince Jazzbo’s ‘Dread in a Earth’ and ‘I Roy’s ‘Roots Man Time’, moving through to the popular new sounds of the DJ’s working over an old rhythm and alongside its existing vocal. As with Busty Brown working with Delroy Wilson's ‘Know Your Friend’ and Mr Jah Stitch working over Johnny Clarke’s ‘Roots Natty Roots’ to produce an even more dreader ‘True Born African’. The heartfelt lyric can also convey this message as we can see when Horace Andy laments ‘Where is the Love’ and Delroy Wilson again shows us on his ‘Who Cares’ cut. The great Twinkle Brothers also put the message across on their two cuts we have here, ’Too Late’ one of their lost classics if ever there was one and the thoughtful ‘It’s Not Who You Know’,being another prime example.

Orange Street itself is always at the heart of all reggae's musical changes and some singers also ride these waves as Mr Cornell Campbell shows us here with two cuts. The mournful ‘Too Be Loved’ and his uplifting ‘Girl of My Dreams’, which uses the same rhythm as our previously mentioned Prince Jazzbo’s 'Dread in a Earth’. Showing us that firstly you can’t keep a good rhythm down and secondly that two if not more great songs can work from the same source point. The light hearted ‘Vengeful’ lyric also worked in this period when artists spared off to each other on records to vent their frustrations. As we can hear here with Mr Lee Perry’s ‘You Funny Boy’. The song snipping back at a previous employer over what he felt were his misdoings to an under appreciated Mr Perry. We have culled these tracks together to show that the Dread Roots feel of the 1970’s came across in many guises and even in earlier songs these sentiments were also prevalent. As represented in Slim Smith’s almost bluesy feel in ‘Trying To Find a Home’, never a truer statement in Kingston's ghetto areas.

Well we hope you enjoy this musical journey and make a connection with messages portrayed here, as Mr Monty Morris points out on his contribution to this collection ‘Times Are Dread’.... Dread indeed.....

Die Cut Sleeve with download. It’s a strange betweenworld, bookended by sleep and the jolt of being wide awake in a place where you wonder how you got there. You know the feeling… It seems familiar but the colours are, well, unreal. In a high-ceilinged room, a grand piano plays lush melodies as, meanwhile, somewhere, an Alice In Wonderland clock ticks, cellos are bowed, a swarm of something vibrates and the hallucinatory crowd around Rosemary’s Baby babble. An echoey electronic hum builds and falls like a 50s refrigerator passed through and effects board, things run backwards, staccato strings are plucked… and that’s not the half of it. “I’ve never been happy staying in one particular school of musical thought. The fun has been turning things on their heads, to try something you were not supposed to do.” We’re on an immersive and adventurous travelogue with the former member of the legendary Tangerine Dream, Paul Haslinger - this is a man who knows how to build tension, hold moods, illustrate contempt, lies, passion and pleasure; He can create fear, loathing and love - he’s been unlocking the nuances of such emotions in a hugely successful career as a TV and film soundtrack composer (Halt And Catch Fire, Underworld and the Golden Globe-nominated Sleeper Cell). ‘Exit Ghost’ is his long thought out opus, a moment caught in time, flicking through reference points, taking an ethereal excursion that permeates musical genres as it becomes awash with intricate sounds and cross-pollinating rhythms. Built originally from the warmth of his grand piano ‘Exit Ghost’ resonates with purity and power, from an eerie and evocative betweenworld, that’s at once expansive and rolling, then intoxicating and suffocating in equal measures; modern composition at its most uplifting; cerebral, celebratory, intense and beautiful. “The soul searching in connection with this record was extensive. Finding places of resonance, giving a colour to your memories. It was more challenging because it’s not somebody else’s narrative. Finding the core of your own story can be the most difficult task of all.” Created over the span of eight years and filled with literal and personal references, the album itself is a testament to the search - a quest filled with hints, particles and suggestions.

Transparent Purple vinyl. Sometime in 2005, a lone box of master tapes escaped an estate sale and made its way through a network of collectors, record dealers, and "junkers" into the hands of leading Ohio soul expert Dante Carfagna, who linked them to Columbus, Ohio's mysterious Prix label (See: Eccentric Soul: The Prix Label). A bit of research turned up Prix proprietor George Beter, who identified most of the unlabeled material. All it took was an endless series of phone calls and letters and two fields trips in Columbus. But one complete mystery wended its way onto our final Prix compilation. "You and Me," a simple but irrepressible demo credited only to Penny & the Quarters, was found tacked onto a mixed studio reel. Our survey of every willing lifer left on the Columbus soul scene, including retired DJs, producers, and important local artists, produced not so much as a glimmer of recognition at the name Penny & the Quarters. Though we loved the song from the first play, it may've ended up a bit buried on our original compilation, as #18 of 19 tracks.Four years later, Eccentric Soul: The Prix Label hadn't exactly become a huge seller, although listeners had repeatedly told us that the unfiltered studio demos that fill out the record's back half were true diamonds in the rough. But neither Penny nor her Quarters had appeared to claim credit for their efforts. Then, completely out of left field, we heard from respected screen actor and avowed Numero fan Ryan Gosling that Penny's piercing bit of stripped down doo-wop was being considered for inclusion in Derek Cianfrance's indie-weeper film Blue Valentine. What we didn't know was that "You and Me" had won a major role in what became an indie circuit hit, and that Penny & the Quarters would instantly assume the role of world's most famous unknown doo-wop group.Every week is a slow news week in Columbus, Ohio, and early January 2011 found the city recovering from the thrill of elevating Ted Williams_the formerly homeless guy with the awesome voice for radio_into a national news sensation. But both major daily newspapers in town, as well as the city's alternative weekly, also ran stories about how a lost and unknown Columbus soul group had become the musical centerpiece of a film already garnering Oscar buzz. That mainstream spotlight aimed at Blue Valentine and Penny & the Quarters did the trick: we finally made contact with the widow of Jay Robinson, lead Quarters' singer and songwriter. Robinson, it turned out, had also been the leader of Columbus doo-wop pioneers The Supremes (later known as "The Columbus Supremes," for reasons which should be obvious). Jay Robinson never did give up on the dream of writing a hit record; even so, the posthumous realization of his dream is cold comfort for his widow and daughter. With their blessings, we returned to those estate sale masters and pulled down another neglected track ("You Are Giving Me Some Other Love") from the still-unknown Penny and her now-partly-known Quarters. "You and Me" is a song that could not be suppressed: not when Prix failed to release it; not when Penny & the Quarters were forgotten; not when Numero stuck it at the bitter end of a much overlooked compilation. Its evolution from estate sale trash to silver-screen gold has finally returned it to big-hole 45, where it probably should have lived all along.

The album Fuyu Kukan, featuring the track “Midnight Pretenders” recently brought back into the spotlight after being sampled by The Weeknd is set to be
repressed on clear blue vinyl!
Produced by Masatoshi Nishimura of FENCE OF DEFENSE, this innovative album blends elements of new wave and rock with mellow tunes and experimental
sounds.
Originally released in 1983, it has gained renewed popularity in recent years thanks to the global city pop revival.
Tracks like the mellow “I’m In Love” and “Midnight Pretenders”, as well as the cosmic sounding “Hannya”, have captivated a new generation of listeners both in
Japan and abroad.

AOKI takamasa and Tujiko Noriko’s 2005 album »28« has become a cornerstone in the artists’ respective discographies. 20 years after its initial release, Keplar issues it on vinyl for the very first time. Three years in the making, »28« saw the sound artist and the avant-pop singer-songwriter combine their distinct aesthetics for an album that defied categorisation. Their combination of advanced electronic experimentation and pop appeal paved the way for a new generation of artists and turned »28« into an enduring fan favourite. Remastered by Stephan Mathieu, the reissue comes with a brand-new artwork by Joji Koyama and a changed track listing—authorised by Takamasa and Tujiko—for the vinyl version to fit it on a single LP, while the digital version remains identical to the original release.

Tujiko and Takamasa first shared the stage together after the turn of the millennium. Both were emerging solo artists, with Takamasa a mainstay on the Progressive Form label and Tujiko forging a connection with Mego in Vienna, Austria. »I simply liked Noriko’s voice and music, and since we often performed at the same events, it felt like a natural progression for us to start working together,« remembers Takamasa. They first collaborated in 2002 for two shows at the Fondation Cartier in Paris and at SonarLab in Barcelona, respectively. The first joint piece was a rework of Tujiko’s »Fly« from »Hard Ni Sasete (Make Me Hard)« by Takamasa, appearing as the album opener »Fly2« on »28.«

After that, the Paris-based Tujiko and Takamasa, still based in Osaka, worked sporadically and remotely on new material. For the first two years of their collaboration, the two met in the context of live events or Takamasa’s visits to the French capital to discuss their process and exchange hard drives while also occasionally sending each other CDrs in the mail. »Aoki made beats and sounds that complemented my music perfectly, building the foundation on which my voice could float,« Tujiko says today. Takamasa used hardware such as the Nord Modular, the Korg Z1, and the Korg ER-1, while also working with different kinds of software and plug-ins as well as Logic. Tujiko was using Cubase, her preferred piece of gear at the time being an AKAI MPC.

After Takamasa moved to Paris in 2004, this enabled the duo to finish the album together in person. Starting with its subtle use of glitches to the almost-anarchic way in which it deals with the structures of a song, »28« came to be an incomparably intricate album. 20 years on, it remains timeless because of its flawless synthesis of the cutting-edge avant-garde ideas of early 2000s electronica with an idiosyncratic but accessible pop sentiment. Both artists look back fondly—though not uncritically, with Takamasa noting a certain »youthfulness« in his contributions—to the album that was titled after their respective age at that time. »Maybe we should make ›51‹ now?,« quips Tujiko. See you in three years, perhaps.

Following releases on Longform Editions and her own Paralaxe imprint, Dania descends on Somewhere Press with crepuscular, quixotic pop that hits a sweet spot between Mark Clifford’s Cocteau Twins remixes and Massive Attack.

Parked next to Alliyah Enyo, Slowfoam, and Angel R, Dania’s found an ideal home at Somewhere Press, and »Listless« is her most confident, transcendent set to date. Her last few albums were steeped in meaning – a way for the Iraq-born, Tasmania-raised artist to explore her identity and probe the impacts of colonisation. Here, she gives herself more room to breathe, thriving in the mysteries of nighttime – a direct reference to her nocturnal existence as an emergency doctor in Australia. The album was completely composed in the midnight hours, but it’s not self-consciously dark in the way you might expect. Opening track »On a Grassy Knoll« is one of the prettiest – and poppiest – tracks Dania has released, cracking open her voice with thrumming harmonies that she complements with granulated, Guthrie-esque guitars and, most unexpectedly, half-speed drums. It’s the first time Dania’s used percussion, and it suits her extremely well.

In fact, even when the powdery breaks drop away in the album’s final breaths, you can almost hear an outline of where they might remain. On »Write My Name«, Dania loops her voice between waved strings and slippery piano phrases, and the hypnotic closer »A Hunger« is a thudding, sub-heavy 4/4 away from being Peak Oil-style contemporary dub techno.

But the big draw here is Dania’s batch of hazy dream-pop miniatures, like the Seefeel-adjacent »Heart Shaped Burn« (with Rupert Clervaux on drums), and the Bristolian »Car Crash Premonition«, that features a rolling bassline taking us right back to 1998. Very strong – peak listening if you’re into Bowery Electric, MBV, or Mark Van Hoen.

Released here for the first time on vinyl, Science-Fiction is one of Mazalda's early albums, originally released in 2008 on CD only. Mazalda is a legendary band for anyone who's been to French venues and festivals in the last 20 odd years ; the Lyon-based collective have played – literally – thousands of shows, always with a high level of breathtaking musicianship, sensitivity and energy.

Although mostly known for their fruitful collaboration with raïsinger Sofiane Saidi in the late 2010's, Mazalda started off as a street brass-band circa 2001. Soon, they integrated specific modern elements to their sound : 70's analog synths, psychedelic guitars, electric mandoline, Wurlitzer piano, Ewi electronic saxophone.

Stéphane Cézard, Mathieu Ogier, Lucas & Adrien Spirli, Gilles Poizat and Julien Lesuisse were influenced by numerous styles of instrumental music from across the Eurasian continent since their teenage years ; yet with Science-Fiction they broadened their field of inspiration to both pop and experimental horizons. Gilles Poizat (Orchestre Tout-Puissant Marcel Duchamp) and Julien Lesuisse (Crimi)'s clear and melodic vocals pair with a great sonic depth created by the countless possibilities of instrumental combinations.

Mazalda chose to record a handful of cover versions such as the majestic opener " Thu Og Eg " by Icelandic prog musician Gunnar Thordarson, or a funk-fuelled version of a 1920's protest song by Neapolitan singer Alfredo Bascetta. A majority of the selection, though, is masterfully penned by members of the band.

Science-Fiction captures the fresh and boundless creativity of a young band of mates who, as well as being top-rank interprets, draw unique inspiration from timeless musical wells. It just wasn't fair that this album never got released on vinyl or online. Meanwhile, Mazalda are still alive and well, as they released their latest album Special Key in 2023 (Airfono) and are currently playing shows across France and Europe with Franco-Egyptian singer Hend Alrawy (Orange Blossom) as "Zerzura".