Buscar:what if

Atkinson first saw Les yeux sans visage when she was a teenager, around the turn of the century. The film made an impact for its iconic imagery and the way Franju draws on the aesthetics of early filmmaking, from its score that relies on stylistic markers typical of the 1940s or 50s to the decision to shoot in black and white. Even four decades after its first release, it was clear that this was a work that stood outside of the cultural moment that birthed it, speaking through time in ways that were uncanny, but profound.

A quarter-century later, Atkinson was approached by the Belgian cultural center VIERNULVIER to create a new score for Les yeux sans visage for its celebrated Videodroom series, which has seen artists like claire rousay, Mabe Fratti, Lee Renaldo, and many more create new original scores for cult classics and genre cinema. Atkinson's music, with its sublime meditations on space and proximity, its elusive sense of narrative development, mirrors the pacing and mystery at the heart of horror filmmaking. There is a shadow at the heart of her soundtrack to Les yeux sans visage, an ever-shifting wisp and an insinuation of encroaching transfiguration. Echoing a climactic moment in the film, the music obliquely points to "the Beyond," an impossible place of discovery and revelation.

Atkinson envisioned her music as something akin to the air moving throughout and beyond the many cages that appear in the film, unconstrained by the bars and with undefined borders. Those cages hold the victims of a madman surgeon, determined to graft a new face onto his daughter, the protagonist Christiane Génessier, who lost hers in a car accident while he was behind the wheel. Atkinson was reminded of her predecessors at the pioneering French studio the GRM, who approached sound in a less sinister, but similarly surgical manner, and took inspiration from their playful approach to cerebral soundmaking for the electroacoustic topography into which the piano is embedded. As such, Atkinson’s reactions to the larger themes and the minute-by-minute happenings onscreen are both audible simultaneously.

A film about a man who destroys the lives of young women marked by their beauty and similarity to his daughter in a shame-fueled rage has clear, continuous cultural resonance. "Through the music, I decided to bring back their empowerment despite what they endure," says Atkinson. "This is why the record is also dedicated to Gisèle Pelicot, whose trial happened while I was in the process of composing the music and kept thinking of her strength and her decision to share her trial in order to reverse the shame."

This recorded version of the soundtrack is a 34-minute synthesis of the full 90-minute score, presented on LP along with an essay by writer-musician Claire Cronin and drawings by Momo Gordon, together forming a complex reflection on the film's themes. If these sounds move as if the bars of cages are no barrier, they also intimate the freedom and power of those held behind them. Rather than simply mirroring the fear and confinement shown onscreen, Atkinson offers an elusive escape, a beacon for the characters, and the listener, to follow as they reckon with the narrative and move through it.

ROCK JUSTICE is a new hard rock/metal act featuring singer Maggy Luyten (Ayreon, Beautiful Sin, The Prize, ex-Nightmare) and guitarist Bas Maas (Doro, After Forever).

The upcoming debut album, You’ve Been Served, is the result of Bas Maas’s long-held dream. He teamed up with Maggy Luyten to shape the powerful, driving sound of ROCK JUSTICE. The album blends varied song styles, tied together by a nostalgic vibe and well-crafted production.

“The idea came to life when I was still playing in After Forever, where I didn’t get a serious chance to contribute to the songwriting. I had written a couple of songs that didn’t make the cut and realized that if I wanted to get my own music out there, I’d have to do it myself, or at least with other people,” says Bas. When he decided to form a band, he had two rules: he wouldn’t sing himself, and it wouldn’t be a female singer. Finding the right guy proved impossible and after several try-outs, one name kept coming up: Maggy Luyten. “Mag’s voice completely blew me away. I thought, ‘This chick sings like a dude and she delivers.’ Not long after that, we met at an Ayreon album presentation in Utrecht. She wanted to hear my songs to see if they inspired her. They did.” The rest is history. Maggy recalls with a smile: “When Bas came over to hear what I’d worked on, we both knew we had something. I still picture him driving back home: window down, our demo blasting, arm out, metal horns up, huge smile!”

Random Color ReVINYL Edition. Never has a Songs: Ohia album's process been so integral to its overall feel as is the case with DIDN'T IT RAIN, the band's sixth proper full-length. The album, like the working class South Philadelphia neighborhood in which it was birthed, has a real used goods kinda feel to it. Engineer Edan Cohen employed what some may consider "old-fashioned" recording techniques -- the entire album was recorded live with no overdubs, the full band playing in one room with the players always within arms' reach of one another; singers Jason Molina, Jennie Benford and Jim Krewson (the latter two of Jim & Jennie And The Pinetops) sharing microphones singing live together, sometimes sitting in chairs, sometimes standing. The result is a sound which resembles the warmth and personality of the classic Muscle Shoals Sound recordings of the early- to mid-70s: Willie Nelson's PHASES & STAGES, the Rolling Stones' "Wild Horses", and others by Aretha Franklin, Boz Scaggs, Bob Seger, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Wilson Pickett.Inspired by the Mahalia Jackson song of the same name, the title track is a beautiful song about the shifting tides of life and the old cycle of "a lot of shit going down before shit clears up". It's a damn fine place to start an album that seems in no hurry whatsoever to make a universal statement, instead perfectly content to walk its own path toward resolution. And damn if Songs: Ohia principal songwriter Jason Molina hasn't gone and created a record that is even more intensely personal and healing than any of his previous works. Neil Young had his AFTER THE GOLDRUSH, this is Molina's DIDN'T IT RAIN. Indeed, this is the album with which Molina really leaves his mark as a serious songwriter and artist. On 1999's genre-bending Ghost Tropic full-length, Songs: Ohia made it clear that it could make a cohesive album that took its listener on a journey from front to back. Its dislocated feel set a haunting tone, and its largely instrumental and drone-like quality was the process of the Ohia eluding itself and its own tendencies, searching for the underside of its roots freshly yanked. With DIDN'T IT RAIN, Molina & Co. return to the beauty of the song form and offer up a startlingly soulful and introspective song cycle in which Molina -- accepting a comfortable degree of anonymity amongst the other players -- meditates on what it means to feel rooted again (in the city of Chicago, where he's called home for the past three years), sounding more sturdy at his core than ever.

The 18th Parallel strikes hard once again with its new riddim series called ‘BONANZA CHARGE’. Carefully produced in its Geneva studio, the collective of musicians presents two vocal cuts and one horns instrumental released as three 7” singles with dubs mixed by Roberto Sánchez. This is heavyweight roots reggae tailor-made for the heaviest sound systems!

First song recorded on the riddim, ‘Don’t Tell Me To Smile’ is NIGHTSHADE’s debut single on Fruits Records and it really is music with a powerful message. Turning an everyday frustration into a universal cry, Nightshade sings out loud what she always wanted to answer to the countless strangers who told her – like so many other women – to smile… because “a woman who smiles looks so much prettier”.

She says: “If it’s really such an innocent thing to say as some claim, why do men never say it to other men? Why do some feel entitled to tell complete (women) strangers how they should look, feel or behave? These so-called ‘small comments’, repeated over and over, are just one piece of the constant scrutiny and everyday violence many women face – and we can’t take no more of it.”

Carried by three united voices, ‘Don’t Tell Me To Smile’ reminds us that a woman is not a decorative object meant to please the male gaze. It’s a call to see through the trap: under the guise of compliments, what is at work is control over women’s bodies and minds. A smile should come from the heart, never from an obligation.

ALERT: BIG 90s ITALIAN RAVE COMP - a lot of very in demand tunes on here.

Navigators

Franco Falsini and the Interactive Test Universe

There are musicians who follow their time.

And then there are those who seem to move along a different trajectory—like navigators crossing sonic eras without ever truly belonging to any one of them. The story of Franco Falsini belongs to the latter. It is a story that begins long before raves, before techno, before the word “electronic” had even become a recognizable musical genre. A story that moves across continents, technologies, and sonic visions, eventually arriving at a small creative laboratory born in Italy in the early 1990s: Interactive Test. This compilation is a fragment of that universe. But as often happens with the hidden histories of music, understanding it requires going back. Far back.

The Beginning: Machines, Tape and Space

In the late 1960s Franco Falsini leaves Italy and moves to the United States. It is not merely a geographical journey—it is also a journey into a new idea of music. At the time, synthesizers are only just emerging from research laboratories. Multitrack tape recorders allow musicians to build entire sonic worlds on their own. Technology is still far from standardized: every studio is almost an experimental workshop. In Virginia, Falsini builds one of his own. Among cables, oscillators, electric guitars and reels of magnetic tape, a kind of music begins to take shape that resembles nothing else being made at the time. It is not simply rock, and it is not yet truly electronic. It moves somewhere in the space between the two. Out of these explorations emerges Sensations' Fix, the project through which Falsini releases a series of albums during the 1970s. Records that seem to come from a parallel dimension: cosmic landscapes, electronically treated guitars, synthesizers drifting like satellites. Many years later those albums would be rediscovered as visionary works. But at the time they were simply the result of relentless curiosity. A curiosity that would never fade.

The City That Never Sleeps

In the 1980s Falsini’s trajectory leads him to New York. The city is a sonic organism in constant transformation. In its clubs and recording studios something entirely new is beginning to take shape: music built from drum machines, sequencers, and samplers, created for the body before the living room. It is the dawn of modern dance culture. Falsini works as a sound engineer, producer and experimenter. From close range he observes electronic music transforming into a global language. Machines become more accessible, computers begin entering studios, and rhythm takes on an increasingly central role. Yet even in this phase Falsini does not simply follow what is happening. He absorbs. Observes. Reimagines. When he eventually returns to Italy, he brings back not only technical experience but also a clear vision: the conviction that electronic music is an open space, a territory still waiting to be explored.

Tuscany, Early 1990s

At the beginning of the 1990s something is happening in Italy as well. In clubs, abandoned industrial warehouses and clandestine parties, a new scene is beginning to form. It is rave culture: a spontaneous movement bringing together DJs, producers and listeners in a collective experience driven by rhythm, technology, and creative freedom. It is within this context that Franco Falsini, together with his brother Riccardo, creates Interactive Test.

The name almost sounds like a scientific experiment. In many ways, it is. Interactive Test does not emerge as a traditional record label. It begins as a laboratory—a place where ideas, sounds and musical identities can be tested and explored. Around the Falsini studio in Tuscany a small constellation of artists and DJs begins to gather, helping to shape the sound of Italy’s emerging electronic scene. Among them are Andrea Giuditta, Francesco Farfa, Gabry Fasano, Roby Mastelloni, Roby J and many others. Each brings a different musical sensibility. But they all share the same intuition: electronic music is not a genre. It is a language.

The Laboratory of Identities

One of the most fascinating aspects of the Interactive Test universe is its constant play with identity. Franco Falsini releases music under several different names: Open Space, Youth Wave, Agent Fylfoyt, Man Myth Magic. These are not simply pseudonyms.

They are different sonic perspectives, as if each project were a window opening onto a parallel musical universe. Open Space, for example, explores more atmospheric and visionary territories. Youth Wave moves between electronic groove and club-oriented rhythms. Other projects experiment with digital psychedelia or hypnotic techno textures. Interactive Test becomes something more than a label. it becomes an ecosystem.

Domestic Machines, Infinite Worlds

Looking back today at the technology used in those productions, one might almost smile. Many tracks were created on Amiga computers, MIDI sequencers and analog synthesizers wired together in home studios—tools that appear modest when compared to today’s digital possibilities.

Yet precisely these limitations became a creative force. Every sound had to be built, shaped and reinvented. Sequences developed slowly, almost like living organisms. The tracks did not always follow traditional dance music structures; often they felt like genuine sonic journeys. Music built from space.

A Hidden Constellation

Many of the records released by Interactive Test in the 1990s remained for years almost invisible objects, circulating quietly among DJs, collectors, and devoted listeners. Yet it is precisely this underground existence that helped preserve them. Listening again today, one perceives something rare: the feeling of music that does not fully belong to its own time. Music suspended between different eras. Perhaps because it comes from a vision that both precedes and transcends trends.

Continuing the Journey

Looking at Franco Falsini’s entire path—from the electronic psychedelia of Sensations’ Fix to the rave culture of the 1990s—a surprisingly coherent line emerges.

A line defined by exploration.

Each project, each pseudonym, each record appears as a new route within the same great sonic voyage.

Interactive Test was one of its stations.

A laboratory.
A community.
A creative platform.

This compilation gathers some of its traces.

Not as a simple archive of the past, but as a map of a musical territory that continues to expand even today.

Like all true sonic explorations.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

Aaron Coyes (PEAKING LIGHTS, LEISURE CONNECTION, NTS) is back with part 2 of this 3 part series under the EXOTIC GARDENS moniker.

This time, the listener finds themselves sauntering into the post-noon hours with a little more grit: Acid synths, distorted phones ringing, some hungover spoken word samples and even the sounds of a Monchichi if you listen closely enough.

But at the heart of it all remains the same backbone that made his 2024 "MORNING DUBS" a surprise hit for Pinchy and Friends: infectiously deep, perfectly produced psychedelic dub
grooves.

Coyes has had a busy year. He released another Exotic Gardens EP on the Emotional Response label, indulging his more distorted, shoe gaze and post punk passions (and sounding much different to his work with P&F). He also worked with fellow P&F artist COYOTE on the "Love Letters" EP. (2025- Is It Balaeric???)

Now that we are 2/3rds into the day, one can only wonder…what will the EVENING bring???

Gorizont Sobytiy (Event Horizon), the duo of veteran electronic musician Nocow and his wife, DJ Designer, mark the project's debut with an album worth of material of 'frogg-step' / Pankratov Step. It's safe to say this is an intriguing proposition for even those well-initiated into the world of the contemporary Russian underground. What is perhaps most immediately obvious across the 11 tracks is a clear appreciation for golden-era Rephlex records, as if the duo are reflecting on how the iconic label was perceived in the Eastern bloc at the time. There's a nostalgic touch tugging at the heart strings with the warm ambient tones of 'Bananoivy Twist' or even the ballroom-esque organ melodies of follow up 'Chacha', both swiftly followed by a switch back into frantic gabber style kicks that recur across the album.

To give a little more away in terms of a background story, Nocow and DJ Designer draw influence from a film called Winter Evening in Gagra, a somewhat distant feeling artefact of late-Soviet cinema about a tap dancing champion's late nights spent gallivanting across the glitz of Moscow's pop music scene in the 1980s. Maximalist in its sound design, Pankratov Step draws its name from actor-protagonist Pankratov, not quite an out-of-time soundtrack as such but at the least a wry nod to the former world in which the film takes place. The cascading, brittle synthesis of 'Cemetry's Boss' forms an icy cinematic fusion again with a gabber influence at play whilst a fierce acid line works alongside myriad glitch rhythms and repeating keys on 'Octopus Werk'. Influenced by the local humour and sentimentality surrounding the film, a melodrama with themes of lost art and a kind of old-world transcendence the young circus performer yearns for, the duo use it as a vessel to describe the projects sound - a coalescing of vintage Soviet soundtracks, early IDM, Jake Slazenger and Expert Knob Twiddlers album. 'Pankratov-Step' becoming their own fictional genre. The LP marks another avant-garde chapter in Nocow's long back catalogue, as well as a fully formed collaborative debut for the currently enigmatic DJ Designer. Pankratov Step is the second release on GOST ZVUK sub-label MEMONT, curated by Kuzma Palkin.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

After years of delays and a very public, bitter dispute with Victory Records, Streetlight finally delivered their follow-up to Somewhere in the Between in 2013. The album is the band’s most ambitious in terms of song length and arrangement complexity, with several tracks stretching well past the five-minute mark. It carries a slightly more mature, weathered tone than earlier records, reflecting the turbulent period the band had endured to get it released. Despite the troubled road to release, it was warmly received and stands as a worthy closer to what many consider the band’s classic era.

“As always the darkest moments of human existence
have a shadow of sheer light

But it’s never to be found while sitting still

even when we want to

It’s to be found in scraping ourselves up and doing . . .

Not overthinking about

Just doing

Just making a permanent mark

Leaving a permanent reminder

for our future selves to revisit and learn from when the times right

If that’s ever comes

So many milestones . . . ?”

You wake up abruptly on cold floorboards, your body aching as if from a great fall. White light floods your vision. Where are you? Last thing you can remember you were hurtling through the Genesis Domain at breakneck speed, but this is definitely somewhere different. As your eyes come into focus you see the hall is grand, intimidatingly opulent. A full house of seated onlookers peers at you expectantly. You’re on a stage, you realize. Flames creep up the walls, engulfing the room and lighting the faces in the audience; the heat is oppressive, but nobody seems to notice. A voice booms out.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! Presenting: a performer of great renown all across the land, yours for one night only… introducing—”

Tiny bells jangle around your head as you shift your weight, obscuring whatever name the announcer just called out. You try to sit up. The jester’s hat tumbles off with a clatter. Not this again, you groan. Your head spins with vertigo. You grimace, trying to remember something. You had just gleaned an urgent and existential truth in the Genesis Domain, but it’s slipping away now… what was it?

Off to your left, a whip cracks. The impresario glares at you from the wings, fist clenched around a diamond-encrusted whip, mouthing at you to get up.

You try to run, but the weight of an incorporeal authority bears down upon you. The impresario cracks his whip again, an impish smirk forming on his lips.

With resignation, you begin to work the room. What else can you do? Tendrils of giggling and gossip creep through your periphery. The heat is suffocating and the smoke stings your eyes, but the show goes on. Remembering your bag of tricks as if from a dream, you raise your hands in the air, invoking the universal call to audience participation. The crowd goes wild. You feel the rush of a familiar thrill. Being the Fool comes naturally to you, you realize, as the palace burns around you.

Phwoar! TD go four for the floor on Volume 9, letting loose with a set of sure-shot hits from all corners of their sonic spectrum.
A tag team match up, this action spectacular trades peak-time pump, Balearic cool, Italo thrust and dance-punk theatrics on its way to snatch the championship.

Obviously TD ooze subtlety and taste, so as we sat sipping Schnapps from our Stanley cups, we couldn't help but take a little inspo from our kitchen decor. 'Live Love Pump' - what a mantra. In musical form, this philosophy takes the shape of a capital D-isco delight, equal Pats Cowley & Adams, EQ-freaked and filtered into something dafter than a pair of chrome clad millionaires. Big room mirrorball magic if ever we've heard it.
The A2 sees the drunk AOR funk of 'Sure Line' take a leisurely stroll down the coast, a Gauloises in the gob and tattered Baldwin in the back pocket, flipping and flopping along the prom to buoyant bass, melting brass and more than a little melancholy.

Booting off the B-side, 'Un America' is a massive mid-tempo chugger replete with laser fire, synth scree and nipple high guitar. Powering along on a serious bass sequence armed with hooks-a-plenty, mostly incomprehensible lyrics and a groove which won't quit, this has all the ingredients required for an Italo all-timer.
The finale finds us in the company of some punk pioneers at their absolute silliest, bringing the kind of whacky vocal vibe, surf-centric style and off kilter groove the B-52s made a career of. Add in animal chatter and scratchy guitars and you've got the sort of secret weapon the Idjuts unleash waaaay post peak.

Limited Press - Numbered Insert - Drum Fun Guaranteed

One of electronic music’s most sought-after names, producer and DJ KETTAMA today announces the release of his long-awaited debut album, Archangel, out 3rd of October. The announcement arrives in tandem with new single “Sort It Out” featuring Clouds, and a landmark moment in his career: his biggest ever London headline show, taking over Brixton Academy on Saturday, October 4th, followed by an expansive tour across Europe, North America, and Australia.



A decade in the making, Archangel is the definitive statement from KETTAMA (Evan Cambell), the Galway-born, London-based artist. The 15-track project is a powerful blend of hard-house energy, trance-inflected euphoria, hip-hop sample-based attitude, and unmistakable emotional depth—sonic signatures that have placed KETTAMA at the cutting edge of contemporary dance music.



The album showcases a curated roster of collaborators who reflect KETTAMA’s reach and relevance across today’s underground and mainstream scenes, including Interplanetary Criminal, Fred again.., Clouds, Prospa, DJ HEARTSTRING, Shady Nasty, SØLV and seantommy. Their contributions amplify the project's scope, offering a multi-sided view into KETTAMA’s musical universe.



Among its early singles, the Interplanetary Criminal collaboration “Yosemite” is a high-velocity anthem marrying speed-garage grit with ecstatic rave melodies, while his track “Air Maxes” with Fred again.. And Shady Nasty blends introspective vocal sampling with wide-eyed club emotion. On “If U Want My Heart” with DJ HEARTSTRING featuring KLP, the ensemble channels high-energy trance, breakbeats, and vocal euphoria into a soaring anthem that fuses emotional intensity with peak-time club energy. Meanwhile, his collaboration with Clouds, released today, “Sort It Out” dives headfirst into industrial-techno territory, conjuring a dark, cathartic energy destined for warehouse euphoria. And reigning as one of the undeniable anthems of the summer so far, “It Get’s Better (Forever Mix)” delivers euphoric waves of uplifting synths and relentless rhythm, bringing an irresistible surge of energy that’s become synonymous with this summer’s club moments.



Archangel has already found a home on the world’s biggest stages and radio airwaves, with early support from key tastemakers including Jack Saunders, Danny Howard, Sarah Story, and Tim Sweeney. Simultaneously, a grassroots groundswell continues to bloom across social platforms—where viral snippets and show footage capture the visceral reaction of a fast-growing, global fanbase.



This year, KETTAMA has elevated his status to a full-blown festival phenomenon, performing at major stages including Coachella, Glastonbury, Creamfields, Portola, Seismic, and ARC Festival, to name a few. In June, he played to 20,000 people in Belfast for a b2b with Chris Stussy—one of the UK’s largest DJ events in recent memory—and is currently mid-way through a 16-week Ibiza residency at Amnesia, playing every Monday night throughout summer. Full list of upcoming live dates can be found below.



Perhaps the clearest signal of his surging popularity is the jaw-dropping response to his upcoming Boiler Room live set, with over 15,000 fans signing up to attend— the set’s release is now highly anticipated as a time capsule moment in a breakout year for the artist.



KETTAMA’s rise to prominence has been anything but conventional. Eschewing the traditional gatekeepers of the industry, KETTAMA cultivated an underground following through the likes of SoundCloud and TikTok, where raw uploads, bootlegs, and viral edits generated a tidal wave of grassroots momentum. Over the years, these platforms became launching pads for a fiercely loyal global community, drawn to his unfiltered energy and boundary-pushing sound. This subversive path to recognition has made him not just a fixture of the scene but a symbol of how new-generation artists can forge success on their own terms.



From his humble roots in the Irish underground to the world stage KETTAMA is now pushing the limits of what a next-gen DJ-producer can achieve. With Archangel, he fuses the sound of his native ‘G-Town’ with a futuristic vision that’s unapologetically global—marking a creative milestone that cements his place among electronic music’s most compelling voices.

One of the most innovative and ambitious albums ever made, Genioh Yamashirogumi’s Ecophony Rinne is a sonic masterpiece featuring over 200 musicians that expanded the limits of what music and sound could do.

Before Akira there was Ecophony Rinne. Originally released in 1986, Ecophony Rinne is a four-part symphony of “ecological music” by Geinoh Yamashirogumi that married ancient tradition with technological innovation, and changed the way we listen to music in the process.

Half-speed mastered at Abbey Road by Miles Showell, Time Capsule’s high-tech analogue reissue is the first to reproduce composer Ōhashi’s ground-breaking “Hypersonic Effect” theory on vinyl, cutting frequencies beyond the realm of human hearing into wax to capture the full spectrum emotional impact of this extraordinary work.

Founded by genius polymath Tsutomu Ōhashi aka Shoji Yamashiro, Geinoh Yamashirogumi is a shapeshifting collective of over a hundred members from across disciplines. Rejecting professional musicianship, Ōhashi cultivated an ethos where neuroscientists, psychologists, doctors, journalists, engineers and students could critique society through artistic expression and pursue their research in ethnomusicological performances that spanned global traditions, Eastern spirituality and Western classical form.

Ecophony Rinne represents the pinnacle of this vision - an expansive orchestral suite made with over 200 musicians that channeled Ōhashi’s thinking about mankind’s relationship with nature, and fundamental questions of life, death and rebirth.

Here pipe organ synths made from sampled Tibetan horns sit alongside field recordings from Central African forests, Buddhist mantras circle dummy head microphones, Javanese Jegog percussion ensembles pulse like verdant ecosystems, and the acoustics of temples, caves and landscapes are conveyed in the mix. Weaving together culture, nature and technology, it is a record that vibrates with the polyphony of life on Earth.

But Ecophony Rinne was not only musically innovative. Noticing the difference between vinyl and CD versions of the album where digital reproduction limited the sound, Ōhashi developed a theory of “Hypersonic Effect”, determining that ultra-high frequencies above 20khz can impact human perception even if they are inaudible. At once a physical and a psychological experience, to listen to Ecophony Rinne is to feel music differently.

The rest is history. After its release, Ōhashi was approached by director Katsuhiro Ōtomo to produce the soundtrack for Akira, the work for which Geinoh Yamashirogumi is best known. Emerging from the shadows at last, Ecophony Rinne was its transcendental blueprint, reissued in its most complete hypersonic form on vinyl for the first time.

Rather than describe nature, Ecophony Rinne embodied it. Rather than reflect culture, Ecophony Rinne defined it. Rather than explore technology, Ecophony Rinne changed it. As a work of art, it is more relevant than ever. You won’t have heard anything like it.

If art is to be exhibited, then Ulrika Spacek will ensure that their art is collective; that even as the world becomes inhospitable to community, their intentions are an act of resistance.

Whether it is Oysterland, the self-curated night the band have been Hosting for over ten years to platform artists of other disciplines in live music spaces, or Total Refreshment Centre, the East London studio Syd runs which connects the dots between the jazz scene and like-minded experimental artists of the capital and beyond, or their creative bleed as musicians and producers over the years with the likes of Crack Cloud, caroline, DIIV, Holy Wave and Slowdive, the band’s existence is inseparable from their community.

In a hyper-individual world, the band’s fourth album, ‘EXPO’, offers an antidote. It’s there, in the shared dream logic of the music, the off-kilter melodies, jagged guitars and cirrus cloud atmospherics. It’s there, in all the things that are said and unsaid between them; there in the writing, producing and mixing processes they share in. And even as each of their parts Moves toward a unified vision, it’s never more keenly felt than in the bigger Picture to which Ulrika Spacek belong.

Though their well-established foundations are in the art-rock world - and though they are inspired by electronic elements more than ever - Ulrika Spacek are interested in the glitch that exists between the two. Their Music reckons with human warmth and digital isolation, equal parts welcoming and altogether alienating. “Our music has always been a collage - a bit patchwork, sonically - but what makes this album a landmark for us is that we went one step further and made our own sample bank,” explains singer / guitarist Rhys. They create their own doppelgängers in a world of almostreal, where the band appear as if in a hall of mirrors. Digital drums are sampled layered upon real drums, and the effect is almost like birth in reverse - pulled from the ether and returned back to the tangible world.

“There’s a lot that can be said about writing when there is no aim, there is a freedom and a purity in it which opens a door to more music, and in this case, it set a mood for a new album, one that would be colder, darker and one that would embrace electronics and new instrumentation in a new terrain,” the band share. “The album’s greater theme is isolation and alienation in an online world where it seems everybody around you is constantly exhibiting themselves, living in public wanting to be seen and heard. The age of ‘individuality’ is lonely, it’s a room of concave mirrors, and with this in mind, we set upon making our most collective effort; ‘It’s back to strength in numbers, count in fives.”

For fans of Radiohead, Moin, DIIV, Astrel K, Slowdive.

LP presented on Crystal Clear vinyl.

F
ourth record already here, new Triptych being scooped out of the drawers. This one is heavily video game inspired and marks a turning point for me. I’ve somehow been very much drawn to what I call “boss fight techno”, this is the result of this cogitation.

Total Debauchery kicks off the record with truculence. The title says it all, we’re very far away from warm up time, all hell let loose, big energy discharge, weird stereo bassline, pure madness. Gate Middletone certainly is wonky. It sounds like an anesthetized telephone call. I don’t know if we can refer to this as techno, but who cares, groove is spotless. Absolute Buffoonery started off as a joke with hoover sounds in mind. Turns out it is very danceable and weird enough to be on the record. It still is a foolery.

The B side starts with Demonic Shine. This one is purely dedicated to zombie games. I’ve been thinking about how techno could be interpreted for this kind of stuff. Turns out you can shoot dead people and dance at the same time. Good time. Zany Ditherings is a hard drive that keeps crashing. It disrupts the track, making it spasmodic. You are in a convulsive loop of data being thrown out the window. dc11 accepted this remix operation. His work acts as counterpoint to the record, bringing flawless techno tunneling. Buckle up mate.