Cerca:what so not

Unearthed from the Crammed Discs vaults after nearly four decades (Originally recorded in 1987), a hidden gem finally sees the light. Maurice Poto Doudongo’s The Lost Album arrives on vinyl for the first time—limited to 500 copies, with printed inner sleeve featuring release notes and photographs.

Back in the hazy margins of late-’80s Brussels, where boundary-blurring sounds were seeping through the cracks of pop music, a young autodidact named Maurice Poto Doudongo was crafting music that didn’t quite belong to any scene. Born in Kinshasa and growing up in Belgium, Maurice was a sonic nomad—raised on Franco, Miriam Makeba, and Tabu Ley Rochereau, transfixed by James Brown and Prince, and shaped by the fertile collision between African music and experimental electronics occurring all around him.

Leaving school at 16 to concentrate on music full-time, he began recording on borrowed 4-tracks, using cardboard boxes for percussion, and absorbing whatever sounds the airwaves served him: “Music has no frontier,” he says. “You take what you like. Prince, Fela, Papa Wemba—there is no contradiction. It’s all part of the sound.”

The result? A record that’s equal parts analog drum machine funk, homegrown Afro-pop futurism, and new wave R&B-informed synth poetry. Marc Hollander, founder of Crammed Discs, met Maurice through his friend and associate, musician/producer Vincent Kenis and quickly recognized the spark. The two began working in earnest, preparing tracks intended for a full-length release that, for reasons lost to time and memory, never materialized—until now.

Marc remembers: “The album was never completely finished. “Bolingo” was the only track that came out on a Crammed compilation at that time… and the rest sat on the shelf for decades until we started opening the Crammed vaults.”

Maurice recalls the session as being, “like an unstoppable current”. Listening now, the Lost Album feels both of its time and well beyond it. While tracks like “Momo” sound not a million miles away from the slinky and sophisticated Balearic pop ambience of Wally Badarou’s Echoes album, "Passport Train" shakes itself loose of any genre boundaries, veering into free-form Afro-electronica and tough electronic rhythm. Others pulse with a sweet and soulful groove that suggests dance floors dreamed of but never reached.

In decades hence, Maurice never left music, and the music never left him. Now working mainly as an arranger, he describes his job as being like that of a musical psychologist: “Someone comes to me with their sound, and before anything I have to understand their mind and heart,” he explains. That same intuitive fluency can be heard across this entire album—music that listens before it speaks, that absorbs before it asserts.

This reissue is more than a remastering. It’s a second breath. Sourced from cassette roughs and 24-track demos, carefully restored with Maurice’s blessing, and released as a complete album on vinyl for the very first time, The Lost Album isn’t lost anymore.

It just took nearly 40 years to find its way to you. - Editions de Lux

Initially founded in 2024 by Tantum, as an event series in Berlin, this new label will be the home for the music of its core artists Tantum & Hyunji-A, showcasing their music as well as hosting like-minded musicians. A platform for artists that dare to think differently.
Since our first release is so special to us, we decided to press KML001 as a vinyl, with a special edit to the tracklist exclusively for KMLV001.

A1 / Keep My Letters
What better way to start the label other than a very personal track that embodies our connection through music. We wrote this track in 2024 as a closing track for the first KML event where we hosted Guy J in Berlin.
Originally written in Montreal, we've managed to capture the magic in anticipation of something new. Hyunji-A's intimate Korean lyrics describe what this project stands for. We decided to keep it as close to the original sketch as possible - sometimes things don't have to be complicated.

A2 / Baires
Tantum's long sought-after 'Baires' will be part of KMLV001 as an exclusive gift to everyone supporting the vinyl release. A trippy and progressive track that was made, as the name suggests, in Buenos Aires. Capturing the vibrant feel of the city and the WeAreLost tour that inspired this track. Play it from start to finish, this record will make you move!

B1 / Keep My Letters (Simon Vuarambon Remix)
Simon is a close friend of ours and we could not think of anyone better to remix the title track for the label launch. He not only understands our vision but also puts his talent to use, crafting a soulful melodic twist on 'Keep MyLetters'. We are proud to call Simon our friend.

B2 / Mirror
This track is like the dark, evil twin of the title track. It was our first actual collab track, so of course it found its way on the debut EP . It's a proper secret weapon on the dancefloor. Try it out for yourself if you dare.

A record born of insurmountable joy and simultaneous profound loss; World Maker marks a time of great change for Psychonaut, both personally and musically, as the band burn away the philosophical narrative complexities of previous offerings with a searing, panoramic clarity that implores us to savour the beauty of the now as a means of leaving a legacy for the future. The traditional, three-piece line up of Belgian, psychedelic post-metal collective Psychonaut has long belied the compositional prowess, captivating narrative depth and crushing live presence of a band now operating at the forefront of forward-thinking, contemporary heavy music. Having sent a shockwave through the post-metal and prog scenes with their three times repressed Pelagic Records debut Unfold The God Man in 2020 before following it up with the transformative metaphysical complexities of 2022's Violate Consensus Reality, Psychonaut have played prestigious Belgian open-air festivals like Alcatraz, Rock Herk and Boomtown Festival as well as boutique events such as Soulcrusher, Roadburn Redux and A Colossal Weekend whilst sharing stages across Europe with the likes of Amenra, Brutus and Pelagic labelmates The Ocean and PG.Lost. The seed of World Maker took shape just as the campaign for Violate Consensus Reality came to a close, with the news that guitarist/vocalist Stefan De Graef was to become a father. This tilting of life's axis led De Graef, like most fathers-to-be, to re-assess what was really important. As such, the music he was inspired to write felt free of the band's previous philosophical and spiritual foundations and instead took the form of life lessons for his unborn son, a legacy of love in case something were ever to happen. This hopeful euphoria shines keenly throughout World Maker as an uncharacteristically optimistic warmth; from the reverberating Rhodes organ on the titular opening track and the meandering, free-jazz inspired guitar solo that introduces `Everything Else is Just The Weather' to elements of world music, electronica and the otherworldly voice of Dutch multi-instrumentalist and old friend Anthe Huybrechts (Anthe/Helion Creek) most notably on tracks like `Origins' which also features tabla, a pair of indian hand drums, as its propulsive heartbeat. Whilst Psychonaut's giant riffs, punishing polyrhythms and guttural vocal rage are more resplendent than ever, there is a wider dynamic spectrum to World Maker that sees the band proudly exploring their more delicate, intimate extremes as well as their most aggressive and abrasive. Not long after the birth of De Graef's son came the devastating news that both his own father and Psychonaut bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels' father had been diagnosed with advanced cancers. Living day-to-day and torn between joy and grief, the band found themselves shedding the grand scope and world-shattering agenda of Violate Consensus Reality to focus on the here and now. Lead single `Endless Currents', the first full track on the album, explodes in a barrage of staccato guitar tapping but mellows to let the powerful, newly pared back lyrics ring out as a call to embrace the flow and follow joy. The song's final few words `Lead the way. / Soar. / Everlong.' double as both a greeting and a goodbye as the trio build their formidable post-metal might to a thunderous breaking point. Similarly, the pulsing, propellant `Stargazer', named so for De Graef's son being born in stargazer position, pairs delicate guitar motifs and folk-inflected optimism with huge and sprawling breakdowns as some of the band's most genre-pushing work to date; asking difficult but important questions of what happens next. It is `And You Came With Searing Light' though that most immediately exemplifies Psychonaut's redirected ambition on World Maker, as euphoria collides with blinding fury. The first track written for the album, `_Searing Light' is easily the most complex and initially wouldn't sound out of place on Violate Consensus Reality. Originally meant to be the new album's opening track; the decision to defer its impact, not to mention its compositional and dynamic gravity, speaks of a fundamental change to the band's very core. The words "Discover the world with wide eyes" recurring throughout speak as much to those having lost a part of their world as they do to those seeing it for the first time. Amidst such turbulent times, the band found strength and support within their Post-Metal community. The album was recorded and produced by the band alongside their longtime collaborator and close friend Chiaran Verheyden (Hippotraktor) with help and advice from Psychonaut's live engineer Victor, who will no doubt make this album sound just as awesome on stage. Even the artwork for World Maker was a family affair, being designed by close friend Sam Coussens of Belgian cosmic sludge metallers Pothamus. In the face of life's soaring highs and desolate lows, World Maker is direct and brave without sacrificing any of Psychonaut's raw power, creative innovation or inimitable musical depth. Where their previous full-length offerings have charted grand introspective courses through time and space, World Maker is breathtaking in its uncompromising clarity: a father singing to his newborn son as a son bids his own father farewell. FOR FANS OF Mastodon, Russian Circles, Tool, Gojira, The Ocean, Pelican, Hypno5e, Cult Of Luna, Amenra

This album is not just a homage — it’s a gentle act of remembrance. A way of tuning in to what Lucier showed us: that listening is an art in itself. A meditation on resonance, memory, and the quiet power of pure sound. Or to quote Alvin Lucier himself: “I guess I’m trying to help people hold shells up to their ears, and listen to the ocean again.”

The influence of Alvin Lucier’s work on acoustic phenomena and the interplay between sound and space is difficult to overstate. His legacy continues to echo through the work of countless composers and sound artists today. Lucier’s music is marked by a sense of childlike wonder and sonic simplicity - shifting our perception from what we hear to how we listen.

At the heart of his compositions lies the sine wave: the purest, most elemental form of sound. Clarinetist Dries Tack pays tribute to this master of minimalism with an album centered around two works Lucier composed as intimate ‘In Memoriams’ for friends. Both pieces explore a single, elegant idea: the interaction between an instrumental tone and a sine wave.

Out of that interaction, ‘beatings’ emerge — a pulsating rhythm that accelerates or decelerates as the waves draw nearer or drift apart. Though built on the same concept, the two works are like mirrored reflections of one another: In Memoriam Jon Higgins, the sine wave glides in a slow glissando while the clarinet holds steady tones. In Memoriam Stuart Marshall, it’s the clarinet that dances around a fixed sine wave.

Dries Tack is a clarinetist specializing in contemporary performance practices. He performs with ensembles such as Nadar Ensemble, Curious Chamber Players, and Ensemble Fractales. As co-artistic director of the GLoW Collective, he explores collaborative practices across artistic disciplines in the broadest sense. In addition to his ensemble work, Dries curates solo projects that offer fresh perspectives on existing repertoire or give rise to entirely new works at the intersection of composition and improvisation.

Death Is Not The End platforms a selection of brooding, haunting Turkish tango recordings from the decades following the foundation of the republic in the early 1920s through to the mid 1950s.

By the time of their second album, 1989’s ‘Unfinished Business’, EPMD were firmly cemented in the rap stratosphere. With one certified classic album under their belts, they proved they were no one-hit wonders, with the sequel possibly even better. A concise 12 tracker once again produced by the artists themselves, it saw them adhering to the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ maxim, while going somewhat ‘bigger’.
In other words, guests started to appear – not just on the records, but in the videos – and marketing budgets were higher. None of which watered down their sound. In fact, this is the ultimate EPMD record: a beat that’s simple but perfect, and two top-of-their-game MC’s going back and forth. But the appearance of NWA in the video for ‘The Big Payback’ hints at their reputation at the time – and at the cordial relations between coasts before the deadly beef that was to come.

‘Payback’ takes both its title and core sample from James Brown’s ‘The Payback’ from 1973, and then weaves two more JB elements with it, including the addictive stabs from ‘Baby, Here I Come’. It’s a golden track from the golden age.

The B-side is another gem from the same album, and only released before on 7” in a very rare, limited pressing. ‘So Wat Cha Sayin’ was the album’s lead single, and shows EPMD’s wide sampling palette. There’s bits of BT Express, a whole lot of Funkadelic and, brilliantly, some drums lifted from Soul II Soul’s gem from just the year before, ‘Fairplay’. Lyrically, it’s just all about threats to sucker’s MC’s – what else do you want from EPMD?


• A certified Hip Hop classic.

• Samples James Brown’s ‘The Payback’ from 1973.

In the heart of a post-apocalyptic city, Spacelunch was making his way through the ruins, wearing a heavy armour of metal plates and flickering circuitry. Cat settled on his shoulder, listening intently to every sound. This time, they weren't just looking for an artefact — their target was the Singularity Echo, a mysterious device created right before the catastrophe. Legend had it that the scientists of the past, sensing the impending collapse, had put all their accumulated experience and knowledge together to create it. It was said that one day “Echo” would awaken and allow descendants to touch the wisdom of the ancients, learn the secrets of forgotten technologies and, perhaps, avoid the fatal mistakes of the past.

— We’ve been wandering around for how long? — muttered Cat, looking around warily. — And nothing.

— Sitting up there complaining, aren’t you? — Spacelunch grinned, deftly bypassing the debris and intertwined roots that poked out from under the asphalt.



Suddenly, a glow flashed before them, gradually taking the form of a palm-sized transparent crystal. It floated in the air, surrounded by silver lining that wove into intricate patterns, like a network of ancient runes. The symbols on its facets, flickering, cast soft reflections on the debris around them. As the professor slowly reached out his hand, the crystal shone brighter, and the low whisper of distant voices cut through the silence. Their minds were enveloped by the echoes of past events, filling their minds with images of the vanished world.

The friends froze for a moment, overwhelmed by shock and a sense of profound change.

— Well, — said Cat, not hiding his surprise. — It seems we've gotten a little smarter.

— A little? Now we have what has been lost for an era.

— So, we have a new adventure ahead of us. Where do we start?

The ghost town, once seemingly lifeless, now seemed to come to life: every collapsed building and every corner sparked with traces and clues as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for a sign.

The occasion of possibility runs through Ben Bertrand's new album Relic Radiation. It is all backdrops and layers. Hints of the emotive and the distant. Confronting the classical with what is new, looking for an expressive space. Melancholy, not melancholy. Contemplation on a midnight blizzard. Dust motes in a sunbeam. Sand dunes and microwaves.

Ever since 2018 and the release of his first solo album, Ben Bertrand has been working up his own interpretation of the bass clarinet as an instrument of the avant-garde. Touching upon ambient and cosmic as well as earthy sceneries, his is a gentle musical paradox come to life. Let go of explicit pleasantries, Relic Radiation is the polymathic interpretation of a frozen intercom, of a subdued intent of contact. The music is competent and familiar, distant without being distant. There is no predefined form or context here. It is a different kind of colour.

As musical moments and modi become enormous, things break down into exploration. On the crystal shores of perception, Relic Radiation leaves a lot of space for interpretation. It is never loud, although it works loud. An at times almost sequenced feel to treated and overdubbed bass clarinet and clarinet notes adds to a feeling of paradox. Every voice, every gesture indicates a way in. The electron is now an immeasurable wave."

Words courtesy of FOND/SOUND –

What makes チトチック/クラクラ (CHITOTIHC/KULA-kura) so fascinating is that, in some weird way, it’s a meeting of minds and musical language of disparate artists at the forefront of a new kind of groove. There might be no “L” in the Japanese language but that doesn’t stop it from trying to find a working substitute. Similarly, Chito enlisted members from his Asiabeat and East Pulse, others from Mu-Project, K2, and Adi, and brought in Haruomi Hosono to play mercurial bass. In the great expanse of experimental Japanese-made pop music all of them might have gone in “out-there” in separate directions but on this record it was Chito who pointed their focus all on the same track.

“Bayou (バイヨー)” presents this floating idea of dance music with beats and rhythms that hover among the ethereal. Other like “Scribble Dance (らくがき)” use Harry’s acid bass lines to dig cavernous grooves that only come up for air via adrenaline-fueled jumps by Haruo Kubota’s quite Adrian Belew-esque guitar lines. Perhaps, Discipline-era King Crimson is an apt comparison to what Chito and his crew pull off here.

Where Discipline signaled a way to reconcile the most out-there polymeter music of prog with the more satisfying parts of post-punk and the new electronic wave, so to do I think チトチック/クラクラ (CHITOTIHC/KULA-kura) has that bit of heart/spirit in mind. This is the out-there of Japanese experimental music satisfying the best parts of the, then, new electronic wave. It takes a certain degree of proficiency and sheer chutzpah to go from “11” to the wonderfully impressionistic, ambient minimalism of a track like “Sanghyang (サンヤン)”.

It’s the joy of not knowing what each new track will hold and just letting yourself follow the hard-working hands of such learned musicians that brings the most out of Chito’s vision. It’s this very liquid music that keeps you on your toes on tracks like “Astral Lamp (無影灯)”. Tracks like “Jagg-chagg (ジャグチャグ)” and “Filament (フィラメント)” present a fourth world music bifurcated in exponential parts by the glitch of newer, modern, electronic modalities, intersected by expressions by differing voices. Every track you switch to presents a new way to get lost in the many phases and places Chito wants you to travel to.

In the end, as always, it’s not the destination but the journey through it that plants this album in your memory. – Diego Olivas

Following up a string of releases on labels such as Mana, Sun Ark, Orange Milk Records and Abyss, Other People are honoured to present the new album Fobia by Argentinian musician and sound artist aylu, real name Ailin Grad. Inspired in part of Grad's many collaborative projects over the last few years, Fobia sees her collecting and rearranging the music and sounds fostered within these to create an intimate, spiritually charged album that turns personal struggle into collective resistance and resilience. What initially started as a way for Grad to process her own experiences with agora- and claustrophobia, and an attempt to navigate feelings of shame and a perceived demand to keep these feelings bottled up and hidden from the world, she began to realise how mental health struggles are not isolated incidents but part of broader systems of collective suffering and injustice. “It took a long time for me to discover that my issues were part of a system that produces these kinds of symptoms and that it takes a lot of courage to find a way around them. I have the feeling that more and more people suffer from these kind of things in some way or another, and what was at first taught as something you should be silent about and keep private, I discovered that the more you talk about it and share it with people you trust, the more you realise that it’s part of something much bigger.” This tension and constant pull between fear and joy, light and dark, is present throughout the album. From the strained breathing featured in opening track Yodo echoing the suffocating feeling from claustrophobia interspersed with the lighter textures of Obelisco Elysium and Prospero offering up a sense of relief, to the almost cacophonous, immersive soundscapes of El Sol Mal, mirroring the complex, often contradictory emotions when navigating mental health challenges. Fobia invites listeners to move through pain with honesty, finding strength in shared experiences.

This is the story of an artist in search of sound and breath: an artist who dares to question the rhythm of silence—an invitation to rethink music, sound, and musical collaboration. This is the story of a journey that, after opening countless paths, has finally found its vessel—and its messengers. Three artists of profound musical truth and radical freedom, merging into an exceptional trio that crosses genres and transcends words in a journey toward pure emotion.

Le Rythme du Silence is the culmination of this long search. Yom delivers it here with violinist Théo Ceccaldi and cellist Valentin Ceccaldi—kindred spirits in sound. “I’ve been working on this idea of the ‘rhythm of silence’ for years,” Yom explains. “I first heard the phrase from a Sufi master, describing the foundation of meditation. It struck something deep in me. I’ve practiced meditation for a long time, and we often think of it as a kind of stillness—opposed to noise and life. But in truth, the rhythm of silence enables meditation. It means accepting that the world continues to move and live around you, even as you try to be still. I wanted to compose from that place. To imagine sound as vibratory matter—the primal substance of creation. That required letting go of fixed structures: forgetting melodies, abandoning the idea of a constructed solo. I needed to leave behind music as a system, and touch sound as a living, breathing entity. It took years. Many projects led me elsewhere. But with the Ceccaldi brothers, I finally found the right resonance. Working with them was simply obvious—it was indredibly powerful.”

Yom first rose to prominence reimagining Jewish traditional music with his 2008 debut New King of Klezmer Clarinet. Since then, his path has led through rock (With Love, 2011; You Will Never Die, 2018), electronic utopias (The Empire of Love, 2013), meditative and sacred soundscapes (Prière, 2018), and countless unclassifiable hybrids (Unue, 2009; Green Apocalypse, 2010). It was inevitable that he would eventually cross paths with the free-spirited Théo and Valentin Ceccaldi—two artists who also place collaboration and genre-blurring at the heart of their artistic development. Their projects are always bold, demanding, and full of life (Kutu, Tricollectif, ONJ, Velvet Revolution, Grand Orchestre du Tricot, Lagon Noir, Constantine, etc.). And so, when the three met within the iXi string quartet, something clicked.
“I was seated between the two of them in the quartet,” Yom recalls, “and I could feel their energy flowing from both sides—it was wild! They’re so tuned into each other, they don’t need words. It’s like they’re connected by musical Wi-Fi. The groove happens instantly. They’re precise when they want to be—thanks to their experience in pop-influenced projects —but they can also let go completely, diving into pure sound. That’s exactly what this project needed.”

Without a single rehearsal, the trio formed instinctively. They began performing Yom’s compositions live, unfolding them into a single continuous piece, where clarinet and strings stretch the limits of sound and breath.
Bowed, plucked, or prepared with clothespins, the Ceccaldi strings engage in a playful and intense dialogue with Yom’s custom B-flat clarinet. Through their imaginative listening and fearless invention, air and space open into a vast new soundscape—one that lies somewhere between meditation and healing music.

“When Yom shared the concept of the rhythm of silence, we were immediately drawn in,” says cellist Valentin Ceccaldi. “There’s a deep intensity and spiritual commitment in his music that really spoke to me. With this trio, we’re trying to dive into the core of sound—but also to create a kind of communion with the audience. It’s like gradually turning up the volume on silence, and realizing it’s made of countless tiny sounds—the music of particles in motion" This stripped-down intensity demands full presence—body and mind—of these three musicians, vibrationally connected in a state close to trance. With them, we enter a journey - not religious, but sacred nonetheless.
The Rhythm of Silence becomes an echo of our most intimate, most distant inner landscapes.
An album—and a trio—to return to without end.

C.A.R. (Choosing Acronyms Randomly) is the musical project of Chloé Raunet, a Canadian-born, London-based artist known for her icy synths, warm vocals, and left-field pop sensibility. Drawing from post-punk, electro, and experimental songwriting, she creates music that’s both emotionally charged and sonically adventurous.

Following a five-year hiatus, C.A.R. returns with Shyana, the first single from her long-awaited fourth album, Dance at Oscar’s. Produced by Nathan Ridley, the release marks a creative rebirth: a new label, a new live formation with Joni Green, and a sound pulsing with revitalised energy. After a pandemic-induced break to focus on filmmaking — and a period of burnout and disillusionment — Raunet was ready to walk away from music altogether. But a pair of carried-over festival dates and an impromptu onstage reunion with longtime friend Joni Green unexpectedly reignited the spark. What was meant to be a farewell became the start of something new.

Shyana is a shimmering slice of machine-funk — a warped and groovy tribute to Paul Anka, filtered through C.A.R.’s surreal pop lens. A meditation on teen hysteria, pop manufacture, and the strange alchemy of early fame, the track pulses with wonky elegance and strutting confidence. One of the most playful cuts from Dance at Oscar’s, it showcases Nathan Ridley’s tight, swaggering production while capturing the album’s embrace of movement, humour, and the weirdness of cultural nostalgia.

On the B-side, Cecilia Road offers a more reflective counterpoint — a nostalgic, synth-drenched ballad built around a call-and-response vocal, throbbing melodies, and emotional tension. Intimate yet expansive, it hints at vulnerability without losing the pulse.

Artwork by Chloé Raunet, Craig Richards and Oliver Hupfau.

People of Earth,

They assigned me your heavy, brooding planet. I don’t complain. Because what lies ahead is Contact.

You are still primitive. That’s not an insult — just an observation. You’re tangled in your inner workings. Fascinated by your metaphysical genitals, if we’re being precise. And yet — your spirit scored pretty high on the Interplanetary Index. Which is rare, and promising.

Your Enlightenment is near. And Enlightenment is essential — for Contact.

Many of you have already tasted the Synthetic Harmonies.
They’re signals. Invitations. Crafted by Artists who, knowingly or not, have already opened the gate.

You look up. You name stars.
You build flying machines.
You surf the sky in metal tubes, sipping juice.
You make big sounds with small boxes.
You fly above the clouds — and play with fire, hoping it counts as progress.
It does.
You’re getting closer.

But first, you need to fix one thing.

Learn to float.
In sound.
In light.
In pulse.
Float in the silence between the kicks.
And stop talking on the dancefloor!

Soon, we’ll drift together through the Great Cosmic Pattern.
Soon, your voices will be heard beyond atmosphere —
not shouting, just resonating.
Believe — Contact is closer than you think.

Truly yours,
The Upgrade Cube

Repress!

Biosphere is the main recording name of Geir Jenssen (born 30 May 1962), a Norwegian musician who has released a notable catalogue of ambient electronic music. He is well known for his works on ambient techno and arctic themed pieces, his use of music loops, and peculiar samples from sci-fi sources. His 1997 album Substrata was voted by the users of the Hyperreal website in 2001 as the best all-time classic ambient album.



Cirque - originally released in 2000 - was Biosphere's first album for the UK label Touch. This new re-issue comes with a 6-track bonus album and new artwork.



Mojo (UK): Fourth full album from ambient pioneer. Coming to prominence with 1992's Microgravity - which along with the first couple of Aphex/Polygon Window CDs, defined the genre ambient - Geir Jenssen as Biosphere has made three of the '90s' best albums, culminating with last year's near beatless Substrata. The idea - as it always was thanks to Eno's On Land - is music as environment (reflecting, creating): working from his base in Tromso, Arctic Norway, Jenssen offers a polar, Apollonian exploration of the human psyche. Cirque is a perfectly constructed 47-minute sequence: cold clarity up against real depth of field, synth cycles dissolving into sudden moments of sonic revelation that sound like a waking dream - try the first 20 seconds of Black Lamb and Grey Falcon. (And if you think that's pretentious - your loss). Inspired by the story of a young American, Chris McCandless, who walked alone into the Alaskan wilderness and perished, Cirque balances the tightrope between warmth and unease, resolving into a moon melody that leaves you a peace. What a good record! Jon Savage.

Celebrated DJ, producer, and sonic explorer Auntie Flo (aka Brian d’Souza) — described by The Guardian as “one of global club culture’s most vital voices” — returns this autumn with ‘Birds of Paradise’: a rhythmically rich, emotionally resonant, and ecologically grounded new album, out 23 October via his A State of Flo imprint. The album will be launched with a special live show at London’s Jazz Caféon the same day.

‘Birds of Paradise’ draws on d’Souza’s global club experience while deepening his connection with the natural world. Built around classic Roland drum machines and iconic vintage synths, the record is a joyful, body-driven celebration of rhythm and movement, but one grounded in ecology and place. The album’s spiritual centre lies in Saligao, Goa, near d’Souza’s maternal homeland where his Auntie Florie (where the name is derived from) is buried. Where he found his ‘paradise’ nearby, staying in a converted fisherman’s hut and recorded dawn choruses from a riverside studio overlooking mangrove-lined waters. Environmental textures from Japan also make their way into the music, creating a sonic map rooted in lived experience.

“Birds of Paradise is about finding beauty and rhythm in a chaotic world. It’s about listening, to nature, to our bodies, to what’s real. It’s a reminder that dance music can be both joyful and grounded.” The album blends Afro-Latin polyrhythms with Western 4/4 patterns, fusing instinctive, dancefloor energy with field recordings that anchor the music in the earth. Described by d’Souza as “tropical with a few deeper edges, a balance of light and dark.”

The new record follows the acclaimed ‘In My Dreams, I’m A Bird and I’m Free’, which earned 4 stars and Global Album of the Month from The Guardian, featured in Disco Pogo’s Albums of the Year, and received support from Luke Una, Resident Advisor, Juno, Bandcamp, Mixmag, DJ Mag, Electronic Sound, The Skinny, Beatport, Ban Ban Ton Ton, and more. The album’s launch show at Omeara London sold out. Other recent projects include the ‘Outernational Dance’ EP on cult label Multi Culti, event series ‘Plants Can Dance (and Mushroom’s Sing)’ which explore plant and fungi bioelectricity as a means of live composition, and ‘Black Beacon’, a haunting cassette release and soundwalk series recorded on the abandoned military island of Orford Ness. There, d’Souza explored the eerie intersection of nature, decay, and deep time, gaining special access to restricted buildings to capture long-form soundscape compositions.

Alongside his production work, d’Souza has emerged as a leading voice at the intersection of sound and science. He curated music for Imperial College’s groundbreaking psychedelic therapy trials, developing six-phase playlists to guide participants through psilocybin-assisted sessions treating conditions such as fibromyalgia and gambling addiction. His five-hour ambient set at Watching Trees Festival, selected as Resident Advisor’s Mix of the Day, continued this exploration into the therapeutic potential of sound in altered states. He also spent six months collaborating with BBC producer Tom Raine on a documentary for BBC World Service, centred on a two-week journey through Kenya and Goa. There, he performed live, led plant music workshops, and joined a deep listening retreat rooted in field recording. “I realised my studio isn’t just four soundproofed walls filled with instruments — it’s the journey itself. It’s the people I meet, the natural world I listen to, and the connections I feel.”

This same commitment to deep listening fuels his live concept Plants Can Dance, a project that combines the biosonification of plants and fungi with modular synthesis. The next event, on 14 September at Hideout Hackney Wick, will feature performances by Stella Z and Lapalace, with d’Souza and resident Lamine playing live alongside responsive plants in collaboration with Repot Hackney Wick and the label Music To Watch Seeds Grow By. “I’ve spent years exploring how electronic music can connect us, not just to each other, but to the natural world. Whether it’s translating mushroom data into melody or capturing birdsong at dawn, it’s about finding resonance across bodies, ecosystems, and machines.”

Rooted in his Goan and Kenyan heritage and shaped by years of travel and collaboration, d’Souza’s creative mission is simple: to reconnect the electronic world with the natural one. Through A State of Flo, he continues to blur the boundaries between club culture, sound art, and ecological awareness.

Nico Lahs returns to the mothership with his new EP, Do What U Feel. Three 100% club-proof original tracks, featuring his classic trademark sound, plus a remix by Chicagoan, Sound Signature-affiliated Specter. Once it's gone, it's gone. Not to be missed!

For their first album as Gilla Band (formerly Girl Band), the
foursome have redrawn their own paradigm. ‘Most Normal’ is like
little you’ve heard before, a kaleidoscopic spectrum of noise put in
service of broken pop songs, FX-strafed Avant-punk rollercoaster
rides and passages of futurist dancefloor nihilism.
Lockdown robbed Gilla Band of any opportunity to try the new
material out live, but the pandemic also incinerated any idea of a
deadline for the new album. They were free to tinker at leisure, to
rewrite and restructure and reinvent tracks they’d cut, to, as
drummer Adam Faulkner puts it, “pull things apart and be like,
‘Let’s try this. We could try out every wild idea.’”
The group also fell under the spell of modern hip-hop, “where
there’s really heavy-handed production and they’re messing with
the track the whole time,” says Fox. “That felt like a fun route to go
down, it was a definite influence.”
‘Most Normal’ opens with an absolute industrial-noise banger that
sounds like a manic house party throbbing through the walls of the
next room as a downed jetliner brings death from above. What
follows is unpredictable, leading the listener through a sonic house
of mirrors, where the unexpected awaits around every corner.
The common thread holding ‘Most Normal’’s ambitious Avant-pop
shapes together is frontman Dara Kiely. Throughout, he’s an antic,
antagonistic presence, barking wild, hilarious, unsettling spiels,
babbling about smearing fish with lubricant or dressing up in binliners or having to wear hand-me-down bootcut jeans (“It was a
big, shameful thing, growing up, not being able to afford the look I
wanted and having to wear all my brother’s old clothes,” says
Kiely).
‘Most Normal’, then, is a triumph, the bold work of a group who’ve
taken the time to evolve their ideas, to deconstruct and reconstruct
their music and rebuild it into something new, something
challenging and infinitely rewarding. It’s a headphone masterpiece.
It’s a majestic exploration of the infinite possibilities of noise. It’s a
bold riposte to your parochial beliefs on whatever a pop song can
or should be. It’s the best work these musicians have put to
(mangled) tape.

The Danish/Norwegian duo of Ida Urd and Ingri Høyland believe that music is an extension of one’s immediate sensory environment. Duvet, their collaborative full-length debut, explores the way that creating sounds together is intertwined with various quotidian actions: establishing surroundings, rearranging furniture, moving towards the light, collecting flowers or other objects for aesthetic and sensuous impulses. Through a quiet and attentive process, music becomes a way of nurturing space: a soft architecture for play, writing, care, or simply rest.

Sonically, Duvet feels like an extension of Høyland’s last album, 2023’s Ode to Stone, which also featured Urd along with ambient musician Sofie Birch and visual artist Lea Guldditte Hestelund. But where that album, created in response to an open call for work themed around Denmark’s national parks, suggested rolling landscapes and endless horizons, Duvet turns inward, countering chill winds with glowing warmth. Its eight tracks seek a balance between abstraction and melody, intention and happenstance.

“We had a truly inspiring and rewarding process working with Birk Gjerlufsen Nielsen from Vanessa Amara, who co-produced and mixed the album with us,” Ingri adds. “He approached the material with great care and sensitivity, while also bringing his own distinct presence and creativity into the sound.”

Høyland and Urd both studied at the Rhythmic Music Conservatory in Copenhagen, which has turned out many acclaimed artists over the past few years, including Erica de Casier, Astrid Sonne, and Smerz. Over many years, the two composers have developed a collaborative method based on connection and trust. A practice, they write, “where composing, or rather suggesting, sounds and melodies for one another is a way of carefully talking, mending emotions and obstacles. Saying yes to one another. The compositional space becomes a nest for entangling whatever emotions, thoughts, or barriers one of the composers brings to the given day or moment.”

Quiet and contemplative, Duvet is simple on the surface but rich in timbral, textural, and emotional complexity. Høyland and Urd sourced their sounds from an array of instruments and techniques—electronic devices, modules, pedals, and also electroacoustic treatments of various wind instruments.

Mixing primarily through analog tape units added further mystery and depth, weaving together wordless voices and unknown sounds—breathing, rustling, perhaps the coppery gleam of Urd’s electric bass—into a dynamic matrix. Like a nest, pull one twig and the whole thing unravels.

In the winter of 2023, Ingri Høyland and Ida Urd retreated to a summer house along the coast to create the album. Picture the scene: an abiding quiet all around. Gardens carpeted by snow; beach grass silvery against the silvery sky; a tendril of smoke rising from the chimney. Not another soul in earshot. This sanctuary was the perfect setting to yield this meditation on shelter, trust, and communication. The two composers hope the album can be a similar space for others—a temporary space of residence, it can represent a summerhouse, a cabin in the woods, your favorite bench or wherever you need to go. “The album also works really well when picking out apples in the supermarket” Urd laughs.

Among the true Keiji Haino devotees, Nijiumu’s Era of Sad Wings (released on P.S.F. in 1993) has always held a special place in the pantheon. Operating for only a few years in the early 90s and apparently only performing a handful of shows, Nijiumu operated at the opposite end of the dynamic spectrum to Haino’s famed power trio Fushitsusha, dwelling in a hushed, meditative realm of mysterious droning sonorities and free-floating melodies that occasionally erupts into violence. Black Truffle is pleased to announce a new double-LP edition of a lesser-known 1994 Nijiumu recording, When I sing, I slip into the microphone. Into that void, I bring comrade “prayers”, then, turning to face the outside, together we explode. Here, Nijiumu is the trio of Haino, Tetuzi Akiyama and the obscure Takashi Matsuoka, the three performing on a wide variety of string, wind and percussion instruments, as well as electric guitar and bass, and Haino’s unmistakeable voice.

Like on the early solo Haino album that shares the group’s name (released on P.S.F. in 1993), the instrumentation swims in reverb (the use of which Akiyama recalls as ‘a kind of point of the band’), often obscuring the instrumental sources. On the short opening piece, a distant reed instrument arcs long buzzing melodies over a bed of cymbals and gongs, like a psychedelic take on Tibetan music. The epic second part, occupying almost 50 minutes, begins as a splayed, near-formless cloud of electric guitar and bass, shadowed by bowed and plucked strings, the three elements working through twisting atonal shapes. At various points in the recording, we hear what seems to be the sounds of musicians moving between instruments, their shuffling and bumps fitting seamlessly into this radically open music. Eventually, what sounds like electric guitar moves closer to the foreground, fixing on a repeated melodic cell around which hover mysterious clouds of long tones and a sporadic shaker. At the half-hour mark, the music begins to build to a violently emotive climax, Haino’s impassioned vocal cries punctuating a lumbering, bass-heavy murk, contrasted at points by what sounds like a tin whistle. Suddenly, the volume drops to a near-whisper, opening the way for the stunning final moments, which touch on the slow-motion balladry of Haino’s classic Affection, here given an eccentric twist by an occasional woodblock hit. The third piece opens with a hazy trio of rumbling bass, bowed strings and abstracted slide guitar, the latter calling to mind some of Akiyama’s later solo work. Eventually joined by Haino’s voice, its fragile, haunted tone might remind the listener of the man in black’s documented love of the madrigals of the murderous Count Gesualdo, before the recording abruptly breaks off mid-note. In this new edition, the Nijiumu trio recording is supplemented by a piece recorded solo by Haino in 1973, a bracing electronic blowout stretching almost half an hour. Using a homemade electronics setup to unleash a barrage of crunching distortion and shuddering harmonic fuzz, it takes its place in the canon of extreme live electronics next to Robert Ashley’s Wolfman and Walter Marchetti’s Osmanthus fragrans, looking forward to extreme noise years before Merzbow. Taken as a whole, these four sides of music are a stunning document of some of the lesser-known waystations of Haino’s singular creative path.

‘When The 2000s Clashed: Machine Music For A New Millenium’ is the story of how, 25 years ago, a new form of electronic music – known as electroclash - reignited a tired clubland and gave the indie scene and mainstream pop a shot in the arm in the process. Over this 3LP highlights set, carefully curated from the 5CD box of the same name (also released, 3rd October) the collection showcases the back-to-basics electronic beats that heralded in a new generation of exciting and innovative new artists - Hot Chip, Peaches, LCD Soundystem, and Ladytron, to name a handful. It also shows how the sound and attitude of electroclash plugged into the decade’s cutting-edge indie bands, (Franz Ferdinand, Bloc Party), and became intrinsic to the way chart pop would sound in the first decade of the 2000s (Kylie, Goldfrapp).

The collection also shows how the scene’s underground DIY ethos evolved and inspired the next generation of electronic buccaneers (Simian Mobile Disco, Justice Vs. Simian). ‘When The 2000s Clashed’ brings together a dazzling, diverse selection of artists, producers and remixers from right across the 2000s zeitgeist – from The Chemical Brothers and Daft Punk, from M.I.A. to Soulwax and many points in-between. For good measure, there’s also one side of LP3 given over to the original post punk and electronic sounds (including Kraftwerk, The Human League and Cabaret Voltaire) who’d played such a big influence on the electroclash sound. ‘

When The 2000s Clashed’ was compiled and sequenced for Demon / Edsel by Jonny Slut, founder of London’s electroclash citadel Nag Nag Nag. Established in 2002, in a small Soho venue called Ghetto, ‘Nag’ quickly became THE hottest club, first in London and then in the whole world. A glorious mess and hedonists’ hotspot, a night at ‘Nag Nag Nag’ (if you could get in!) saw the capital’s club kids, students and creatives rub up alongside names from the fashion and music worlds - Björk, Pet Shop Boys, Kate Moss, Boy George, Alexander McQueen, and Pam Hogg were among the regulars. Madonna visited, so did John Peel, Yoko Ono asked to perform and did, Throbbing Gristle’s Chris and Cosey DJ’d, so did Marc Almond, and Too Many DJ’s.

Justin Timberlake was refused entry (too many bodyguards)… even Cilla Black was spotted getting down! Jonny shares these reminisces – and many more - in the collection’s sleevenotes. Named after the 1979 Cabaret Voltaire classic, ‘Nag, Nag, Nag’ became the first place to hear the seemingly endless flow of thrilling new tunes coming from every direction during that decade of dance. Many of them are included on this collection.