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Imperial Wonders are one of the true great vocal harmony groups that came out of Cleveland, Ohio during the sixties and are still perfomring. We are happy to release our second single by them with the prophetic anthem 'Lord What Is Happening to the World?' the ballad 'I'll Never Go Looking for Love' is on the flip. This is the first-time release on vinyl for both songs apart from previously only being available on CD.

* Bristol dubstep mainstay Gemmy, a key figure in pioneering the city's electronic music identity alongside fellow 'purple trinity' producers Joker and Guido, is set to release his latest EP 'Unruly' on his World Of Wonders imprint.

* Since his acclaimed 2008 debut with 'Bk 2 The Future' on Peverelist's Punch Drunk imprint, Gemmy has released on respected labels including Pinch's Tectonic, Mike Paradinas's Planet Mu, Soul Jazz and Earwax before forming his own imprint in 2011. The new three-track EP follows on from his 'Bamboozled' EP for World Of Wonders last year and shows off Gemmy's keen talent for crafting purple wave influenced dubstep.

* 'Unruly' offers three tracks that serve as measured excursions in melody and restraint. 'Na Tek Bak Chat' is an intensely rhythmic and darkly spacious production, whilst the searing 'Sonicboom' bristles with funky, grime-inflected rhythm. The propulsive 'Stop Dat!' is a vividly expansive and minimal exploration of bass music.

* 'Unruly' brings another solid release from one of dubstep's most influential producers. World Of Wonders will release 'Unruly' on July 27th.

Consummate selector DJ Sundae returns to Efficient Space with Nothing Ever Was, an immaculate compendium of phantom independent melancholia spanning '60s/'70s village green folk, outsider shoegaze and new millennium domestic pop. Each recording an emotional exorcism, Sundae breathes oxygen into music that was barely there in its own time, made in quiet places and crawl spaces, shared only with a precious few via private presses, hobby labels and now-decaying CD-Rs.

Free of any prescribed epoch, continent, scene or rarity, Noughties homemade indie pop opens both sides with the 4-track wonders of The Motifs and Betelmire, unlinked contemporaries finding their place alongside Andrew Jay's Crazy Horse rust, the regional-garage adolescence of Pauline Scribner and the anaesthetised Mancunian guitar-poetry of the late Quigley.

The remaining coordinates zigzag between the UK and US. Folk wayfarers John Strang & Valentine Lewis Lloyd, Virgin Insanity, Kusudo & Worth and Penny Wager's spartan Garden of Eden acoustica find their mirror in Empress and Slumber's close-quarters indie pangs. Chicago power pop fixture Phil Angotti is caught at his most tender, while Teri Rini takes the final bow with her universe-stopping hotel lounge torch song.

A deeper, more personal exploration of Sky Girl's sentimental songwriting, Sundae found himself amassing a cache of tracks too undeniable to remain confined to his anonymous mixtapes for TTT, P.A.M. and Good Morning Tapes, or bi-monthly hour on NTS Radio. Again his emotional sorcery draws together an unlikely cast, their unwritten narrative assembled from fragmented memories of past lives left behind by future horse trainers, ketamine therapists and Fab Four cover band careerists.

With not a second squandered across 1LP, it took a village to bring this new companion into being, with David Bergot's forensic audio restoration, dreamlike imagery from Matthieu Crozier, Ivan Liechti's elegant design and a perceptive foreword by kindred spirit Jessica Pratt.

2026 Repress

Astral Projection were pioneers on the Goatrance scene and have been storming the dancefloors for more than 20 years with their uplifting melodic and hypnotic music signature! Now we are delighted to announce; their EP "Let There Be Light" with 2 new tracks of the masters and remixes by Filteria and Morphic Resonance; repressed on vinyl.

First you can hear Astral's rework of the sublime "Filtertraces" track by Filteria. Giving it their so special spiraling recipe, Avi and Lior gave it a trippy and panoramic touch!

Second Filteria returns the favor with his own version of the fantastic "Let There Be Light" track by Astral Projection. The production upgrade and filteria-esque melodies do wonders to the goatrance anthem and on the dancefloors where it's played!

Then, Morphic Resonance, shows the full extent of his skills as he embarks you on a sci-fi rollercoaster ride with his remake of Astral Projection's "Enlightened Evolution". Expect massive melodies and the usual explosion of energy from the Catalan artist!

Last but not least, Astral Projection have remixed their own "Another World" track from the 1999 eponymous album. Yet no doubt the Israeli duo is stunningly sharp as it managed to give it exhilarating new twists as well as a splendid production!

This incredible collaboration shows once again goatrance music is a blessing and we hope it will enlighten your path!

The latest game in the stylish Katamari Damacy series in which you roll your katamari and collect items to become large enough to form a star for the cosmos, Once Upon A KATAMARI, is getting its own vinyl record release called Katamari Once Again! A total of 23 wondrous songs have been personally selected by the game"s sound composer, Yuu Miyake. The album features BGM stage music in addition to songs performed by an all-star lineup of various artists such as Saya Asakura, Amane Uyama, KAF, Clémentine, Kocchi no Kento, Masashi Sada, San Francisco Boys Chorus, Katamari Damacy feat. suis from Yorushika, Daoko, chelmico, Kenji Niinuma, Saki Hanami, Shigeru Matsuzaki, and Yakushimaru Etsuko. Once Upon A KATAMARI immerses you in the colorful worlds and eras of time and history. Product shown is a luxurious gatefold sleeve housing two records inside. The cover was designed by Kazuki Takakura with supervision from Yuu Miyake, the game"s sound composer. When you think of Katamari Damacy, you think of the colorfully chaotic artwork that comes hand in hand alongside it, and this packaging offers a high-quality, must-have item for a fan"s collection.

Extinction Burst! is the new invocation in album-form by Guttersnipe, Leeds’ premier and pre-eminent XFCER (XFCER: Xenofeminist crisis-energy rock)* duo. Slamming at full speed to multi-dimensional oblivion, Extinction Burst! is the most full, hidefinition lurid dream-mare yet spewed out by Uroceras Gigas & Tipula Confusa. Engineered and mixed by Ross Halden at Hohm Studio in Bradford and mastered by Rashad Becker, Extinction Burst! follows 2018’s My Mother The Vent, which garnered universal critical adoration. Nevertheless, this long-awaited follow up is more extreme: it is wildness beyond reason, splitting new tears in the reality gauze, ultimate hallucination through sound ecstasy. 2026’s Guttersnipe are evolved, mutated by 8 years of touring together and with the labyrinthine network of groups both Guttersnipe members are involved with - Tristwch Y Fenywod, Nape Neck, Petronn Sphene, Yexxen to name a few. On Extinction Burst!, as with previous material, the duo are heavily augmented with technology. Tipula Confusa's drum kit triggers chasm-causing synth pulses with thumping low end attack.. Strafing from all over the stereo field the constant shatter of the cymbals and toms feel like Sunny Murray or Rashied Ali in full flight during a John Coltrane session in 1967. Uroceras Gigas’s guitar + synth storm is by-now similarly an instantly recognised tool kit in underground music. Switching from screeching guitar atonality to intricate riffs from the black metal/Voivod hinterland to ultra-distorted synth meltdown, it’s an utterly overwhelming, essential and vital pouring-out of the full emotional spectrum. Both artists vocalise, ecstatic and primal, drawn out or yelped in pain or pleasure or panic. Alive On Tuesday begins with some of the only space on Extinction Burst! Digital crackles and tight-delays blow out into a fullthrottled death-dive into sweet opaqueness, offset by the duo’s vocals. There’s a popular believe that Guttersnipe is chaos, but over 9 mins here the group are clinical in their control of the simulated entropy. Mincing while the Maelstrom Churns’s guitar is modulated into jagged atonal atonement, duetting with the virtuoso drum patterns before it thuds into gear at quadruple the speed. Threads Of Radical Unaliveness veers close to the extreme Metal influences with blast beats and guttural vocalisations until the track exhausts itself into unaliveness. Keep Honking summons a demonic digital panic, with the duo reincarnating in real time as haunted versions of themselves, almost translating the lurid, ultra vivid, simultaneous hell+heaven of being alive in this dimension. Primordial Invagination harnesses No Wave’s dissension of normality before the structured collapse of Skra¨ckblandad Fo¨rtjusning, in which Tipula Confusa’s accelerating drums simulate a bouncing barrel of brimstone descending into a primordial gunky ooze, a respite in the middle before the record splutters to a stuttering finale, both members’ vocals out there in the neon realness, alive with crisis energy. There is nothing on this cursed earth like Guttersnipe. For over 10 years they have whirled in a wiggliness both woebegone and wonderstruck on a mission of radical mutant exaltation using rock music weaponry loaded with a queer hysterical ammunition to rupture the fabric of the known Rock universe and unleash a tendril-soft hallucinatory violence; thrumming with the bracing vividness of insect bodies, crazed with alien synaesthetic emotions, harnessing jagged excoriating illogic as a face meltingly snazzy affront to redundant macho mediocrity with the hope to break minds, squeeze hearts, explode pelvises and maybe even reset the parameters of reality. Addendum: xenofeminist : proposing and creating a world defined not only by sexual/gender equality, queer empowerment and the toppling of the racist heteropatriarchal hegemony and it’s tyranny of phallogocentric signifiers, but a philosophy of radical queerness that explodes the basic notion of embodied existence itself beyond even the human, where we see bacteria, invertebrates, reptiles, marine life, animalia in general, inanimate objects, quantum phenomena and as yet inarticulated bodies and minds as social and political equals that may inspire and inform our concepts of self, feeling and meaning as we labour to build a collective reality that doesn’t completely suck!! crisis energy : a term borrowed from the weird fiction author china mieville to describe a type of extreme concentration of power which emerges when a system or organism is pushed to it’s absolute limit; the point of rupture, chaos, entropic overload, just before it all breaks apart. rock : Rock ’n’ Roll, rock music, the devil’s music, sex, guitar, drums, voice, rhythm, riffs!

Love Raid is first in a series of cassette-only mixtapes with the cult WFMU show and blog Bodega Pop collecting assorted digs from across New York's bodegas and cell-phone stores. This first edition is focused on leftfield, novelty, and protest 45s from across the Arabic world recorded between 1960 & 1974.

"A series of random discoveries in the mid-1990s led me to abandon American and British pop and focus on non-English-language music, predominantly Arabic, for the next two decades.

Feeding my ears required biking down to Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, or hopping on the subway to Steinway Street in Queens, where I would pop into a handful of the local bodegas and immigrant-run cell-phone stores, some of which offered music from North Africa and the Middle East on cassettes and compact discs.

When CDs spiralled into obsolescence in the mid-2010s, I reluctantly made the switch to vinyl, concentrating on 45s and intentionally filling holes not well represented in the digital era – more artists than not hadn't made the transition from analog in the 1980s. This meant focusing on singles by a lot of artists I'd not heard of, and it quickly became evident just how much of the era – from approximately 1960 to 1974, when 7" records were all but abandoned in Egypt and Lebanon – had been forgotten.

What also became evident was the breadth of popular music issued by even hegemonic titan Sono Cairo. The consensus is that state radio and music publishing ignored traditional folk, shaabi, and other lowbrow pop in favor of the exalted art song we associate with Oum Kalthoum, Abdel Halim Hafez, and Farid al-Atrash.

While this active neglect of the broadest Arabic pop spectrum is mostly true, I accumulated a not inconsequential number of what I can only describe as "novelty" records by mostly one- and two-hit wonders. From catchy gimmicks like the "doktor, ya habibi" of Maha's "Doktor" and the "boom boom boom" of twins Thunai Badr's "Love Raid," to the Monty Python-level silliness of Sayed Mandoline's fake Italian crooning and maniacal laughter in "I Present to You the Mandolin," these were sounds I was genuinely surprised to hear.

Even more remarkable were the songs recorded in English: Karim Shukry's celebratory "Ramadan" and Motyaba & Nada's civil-rights plea "No Black No White" are two of my favorites, and thus included in the present collection.

The tracks compiled here are often as beautiful as they are beguiling, but while the intention was to absolutely put together a solid listen, it was also my hope to slightly expand our understanding of Arabic music of this period beyond not just the usual suspects, but also subjects – and treatment of same."

--Gary Sullivan.

As the tenth candle flickers atop the torta alla panna, Archeo Recordings play the Uno reverse card, breaking with tradition to give us a gift in celebration of its birthday: the first in a series of exquisite EPs on which the label's favourite contemporaries pay homage to past masters. Each re-polished gem is plucked either directly from the beatific back catalogue of the fine Florentine label or is at least Archeo-adjacent, perhaps a sign of future wonders to come. Like a musical version of Janus, who can be found at the heart of Bertoldo di Giovanni's frieze in the Medici villa, Archeo Recordings will continue to look forwards and backwards to provide sublime sounds for us all.
Pepe Maina officially joined the Archeo family in 2019 with the much-needed reissue of his 1979 masterpiece Scerizza (AR015), but his astounding music has been a constant companion to label head Manu for much longer. An inter-dimensional, multi-instrumental maverick, Maina weaves the frayed edges of prog rock, new age, organic jazz and global minimalism into a shimmering tapestry all of his own. The results are spread across fifty years and almost as many albums, largely self-released and always absolutely untarnished by commercial concerns.
Based in a small village in the hills of Brianza, just north of Milan, Maina translates the beauty of his surroundings into transformative tone poems, and the folkloric fusion of "The Infinite", originally released on his 2014 CD Tales From The Hill, is the perfect example of his practice. It opens with a recitation of Giacomo Leopardi's 1825s poem "L'Infinito" by famed Italian actor Vittorio Gassman. A leading figure in the romantic movement, Leopardi explores the idea of time and space within the natural world, and the peace that comes with an appreciation of the immensity of eternity. Manu, longtime digger and now a burgeoning producer, expands upon the original with tribal percussion, chirping electronics and a spheric bassline, folding Maina's elegant strings and gossamer pads into a new arrangement suited for a slow dance under the stars.
Unless you had a well-trained ear tuned to Italy's avant-jazz scene, chances are your first encounter with innovative flautist Roberto Aglieri came via the 2017 Archeo reissue of hisalmost untraceable LP Ragapadani (AR011). It's a true testament to Manu's digging credentials that he snatched this masterpiece out of the esoteric atmosphere and brought it attention it so richly deserved. A delicate union of digital synthesis and versatile flute - be it soft and silvery or
brilliant and clear - the 1987 album was a shapeshifting masterpiece, replaying scenes from Virgil, Verdi, Visconti and Pasolini with a neon glow. Quintessentially Italian, but uncanny and previously unimagined - Penthouse and Portico perhaps. Powered by a percolating prototechno sequence, cascading keys, hallucinogenic vocal snippets and a variety of tonal timbres from Roberto's reed, "Danza N. 1" long deserved the praise reserved for Jean-Luc Ponty's pinnacle, so many thanks to Manu for our collective introduction. The tall task of reinterpreting this particular paragon falls to Perugian polymath Daniele Tomassini AKA Feel Fly, whose peerless skills as both producer and musician have delighted DJs and dancers alike. Hot on the heels of his diverse and definitive remixes of Tony Esposito for AR027, Daniele delivers a radical rework of "Danza N. 1" perfect for both day rave sunshine and full moon party alike. Enhanced by snapping breaks and a rattling kick, the bassline gurgle emerges as a progressive powerhouse, laying the foundation for the trilling flute and circular keys to cast a psychedelic spell. As the slow-Goa revival picks up pace, this one is way ahead of the pack.
Archeo take us all the way back to the start of its story here - well almost. Though it bore the stamp AR001 (2015), this Radio Band reissue actually hit shelves months after Tony Esposito's "Je-Na' / Pagaia"; a false start perhaps but a true classic all the same. Radio Band were a group of DJs from Florence who all sailed the airways of Radio Fantasy in 1984 and whose one and only release was this super groovy slice of Italo-boogie. Following the example of Milanese DJs Band of Jocks but far surpassing their formulaic funk fizzle, Radio Band employed an intergalactic bassline, cosmic keys and that undeniably Italian style of rapping to deliver a sophisticated party-starter which even found its way to disco deity Ron Hardy. Back to the here and now, and if you've found yourself pumping an ecstatic fist to a supercharged Italian epic of late, chances are its from the mind of the mysterious Radiomarc. Operating on the ascendent Popcorn Groove imprint, this shadowy figure steers his country's lost classics into peaktime territories, finding a sweet spot between late Italo-disco, early Italo-house and contemporary cool. Pushing the tempo with a club-ready 4/4, setting the sequencer to stun and supplementing the original melodies with a series of synth riffs, the mystery producer send this one into orbit. Radio Band - Radio Rap - Radiomarc, the circle is complete.
Few have done more to develop cross-cultural musical exchange than Futuro Antico. A collaborative venture from musician, archeologist and ethnomusicologist Walter Maioli, keyboardist and tonal theoretician Riccardo Sinigaglia and multi-disciplinary artist and composer Gabin Dabiré, Futuro Antico formed in Milan in 1979, combining ancient international folkloric traditions with otherworldly electronics. The result is an arresting melange of Mediterranean, African and Asian instrumentation, mimicked by esoteric synth tones and hypnotic minimalism, which the group perfected on their acclaimed 1990 LP Dai Primitivi All'Elettronica. The meditative and transportive "Pan Tuning" belongs to their largely overlooked 2005 CD only release Intonazioni Archetipe, and has been amongst Manu's most loved tracks from the first moment he heard it. Who else is better placed to reshape this evocative opus into an immersive, transcendental dance floor journey than label favourites Mushrooms Project? The duo sows the original elements into a sprawling fifteen minute fusion of séance and science, at times propulsive with a ritualist rhythm of tuned percussion and crunching drum machine at others drifting off into ethereal ambience. Mushrooms Project continue to push the boundaries of the Afro-cosmic style, and this remix marks a new zenith.

Gospel melts into Soul in this dazzling collection of sides originally released by the Chess subsidiary.


Devised by the same team supporting the likes of Muddy Waters and Etta James at Chess, the vintage of Checker Gospel celebrated here is distinguished by its expertly raw, rugged, live feel — thumping bass and pounding drums, bluesy guitar and horns — and its keen engagement with contemporary realities and politics, with an underlying, unwavering commitment to the Civil Rights movement. Not forgetting its sheer, startling, richly diverse soulfulness.

Key architects of the Chicago Sound and Motown are amongst the scores of contributors: Charles Stepney, Gene Barge, Eddie Kendricks, and Leonard Caston Jr. are in the house… Morris Jennings, drummer on Curtis’ Superfly and Terry Callier’s What Color Is Love… Louis Satterfield from The Pharaohs and Earth Wind & Fire… Ramsey Lewis’ guitarist Byron Gregory… Phil Upchurch… Laura Lee…

Producer Monk Higgins joined Checker in 1967, bringing his experience of R&B and Gospel hit-making for the labels One-derful and Satellite, together with a loyal cohort of musicians. A protege of Willie Dixon, engineer Malcolm Chisholm set up the Ter Mar studio as if preparing for a live gig, carefully teasing measures of bleed into the microphones. With Ralph Bass from King Records running A&R, they knew exactly what they were after. ‘I’m using horns and an R&B sound in gospel recordings,’ said Bass. ‘We have no charts. All the musicians are given the chord changes. I want the cats to think when we’re cutting. I want spontaneity, and that’s what we’re getting.’ And: ‘There is more to gospel than just finding solace in the church. This follows the same message of Martin King, who was fighting for a new way of life. Kids are tired of hearing Jesus Give Us Help. They want a positive message.’

Focussed on the late sixties and early seventies, the twenty-five recordings here are all killer no filler, but try these four, random entry points: the heavy funk ostinato of the Violinaires’ Groovin’ With Jesus, working itself up into a post-James-Brown brass frenzy, sure to knock your socks off; Cleo Jackson Randle’s title track, for those who like their Gospel straight-up and hard-core; Eddie Kendricks’ achingly timely choral call-to-arms, Stand Up America, Don’t Be Afraid; the East St Louis Gospelettes’ heart-stopping, fathoms-deep rendition of Bobby Bland’s I’ll Take Care Of You.
A beautiful gatefold sleeve; a full-colour booklet with excellent notes by Robert Marovich; top-notch sound. Another knockout selection by Greg Belson and David Hill.

A shoo-in for soul compilation of the year.

In the intricate maze of Tokyos neon heartbeat, Yuki Takasaki, known as Altone, creates a world where time and sound dissolves into dub techno. Altones work, steeped with an old-school sonic palette, is a symphony of resonating bass lines, rustic layers and delicate synths, crafting a port rait that connects the fleeting with the timeless. Altones music t ranscends mere sound, offering an invitation to explore the shadowy corridors of consciousness and minimal dub aesthetics. Each original track unfolds like a tranquil journey through an urban nocturne, haunting and beautiful in its harmony. Brendon Moeller, a master of dub techno, reimagines Altones >Self Replication< In two distinct yet sonic territories. The first remix pulses with a futuristic rhythm, its syncopated beats dancing on the edge of awareness. The dub remix, by cont rast, plunges into a vortex where liquid acid intertwines with hypnotic bass lines, conjuring a dreamscape infused with laser guided drums and crystalline texture. Through these remixes, Moeller crafts a sonic voyage that weaves through the complex tapestry of the dub landscape and keeps reminding us that the territory is still vastly unexplored.

In Thin Air, forms a musical companion piece to Robert and Jackie's book The Book of Birds - a book that is a love letter to the splendours and mysteries of birdlife, and a clarion call to halt the loss of birds from land, sea and sky. The music was created within the contemplative green oak roundhouse of Ty Sanctaidd (Sacred House) in the grounds of Ty Trefacwn in South West Wales, and recorded at Castle Sound Studio in Pencaitland, East Lothian. As with our other albums In Thin Airhas been recorded and produced by Andy Bell of Hudson Records. Throughout The Book of Birds there runs a gentle mantra - " Nest, Egg, Beak, Song, Feather, Flight, Migration -- these are the Seven Wonders that together conjure the miracle of Bird ". Intrigued by this concept, the seven musicians have created an intricate new album that has an overarching narrative, capturing the remarkable world of birds from birth to flight.

In Thin Air, forms a musical companion piece to Robert and Jackie's book The Book of Birds - a book that is a love letter to the splendours and mysteries of birdlife, and a clarion call to halt the loss of birds from land, sea and sky. The music was created within the contemplative green oak roundhouse of Ty Sanctaidd (Sacred House) in the grounds of Ty Trefacwn in South West Wales, and recorded at Castle Sound Studio in Pencaitland, East Lothian. As with our other albums In Thin Airhas been recorded and produced by Andy Bell of Hudson Records. Throughout The Book of Birds there runs a gentle mantra - " Nest, Egg, Beak, Song, Feather, Flight, Migration -- these are the Seven Wonders that together conjure the miracle of Bird ". Intrigued by this concept, the seven musicians have created an intricate new album that has an overarching narrative, capturing the remarkable world of birds from birth to flight.

Night Lives is composer Kristine Tjogersen's second album on Aurora Records, and the follow up to the critically acclaimed debut album Between Trees from 2024, it's now being released on vinyl for the first time Kristine Tjogersen 's Night Lives (2023) is an excursion into the shrouded world of nocturnal creatures. Produced in a multidisciplinary collaboration with the Norwegian contemporary music ensemble Cikada , biologist and writer Hanna Bjorgaas, scenographer and performer Ellen Jerstad, visual artist and lighting designer Evelina Dembacke, and artist and designer Marie Payan, Night Lives offers a fantastical imagining of how bats, moths, owls, micro- organisms, and other nighttime dwellers communicate, immersing audiences in wonders that are beyond our human eyes and ears.

Piano-driven post-rock band We Stood Like Kings from Belgium celebrate 15 years of existence with the release of their sixth album, Pinocchio, coming out via Kapitän Platte. The 9-track, 49-minute concept album revisits the world-famous initiatory tale of Pinocchio through a dark and violent lens of betrayal and power struggles."This really feels like We Stood Like Kings 2.0, while remaining unequivocally us. It might very well be the record we've always wanted to make," says pianist Judith Hoorens. With its extended use of distorted synths and heavy post-metal riffs, Pinocchio clearly marks a turning point in the band's history.

The Reds, Pinks & Purples is a San Francisco indie band led by Glenn Donaldson (The Ivy Tree, Skygreen Leopards, Art Museums and Painted Shrine). For fans of_ Guided By Voices, The Chills, Teenage Fanclub, The Shins, The Replacements, Leonard Cohen, The Go-Betweens, Robert Wyatt. Having penned over 200 songs in the last six years, The Reds, Pinks and Purples release a collection of tracks previously unreleased on physical format that continues to romanticise the wonders and woes of the world. With song titles that read like chapter sub-heads for a post-Douglas Coupland novella, 'The Past Is A Garden I Never Fed' takes The Reds, Pinks and Purples central orator Glenn Donaldson through the turmoil of small talk and everyday water cooler moments with a fine sense of pathos and irony. Set to a soundtrack that swerves between the dark days of Television Personalities and Byrdsian twang to the Jarvis Cocker-styled rhetoric and vocal tenderness of 'Richard In the Age Of The Corporation' with hints of everything from Husker Du's fuzzed splendour to the chiming majesty of The Chameleons it's an empowering listen. The pathos and irony of the glorious track 'The World Doesn't Need Another Band' sets out the band's store, it's a measured and quietly outspoken rant at lacklustre opposition peppered with a gorgeous guitar break. Meanwhile, 'I Only Ever Wanted To See You Fail' rumbles with an Eddie And The Hot Rods pre-punk riff before dissolving into a tale of self-doubt and remorse, bemoaning others' good luck. 'Toxic Friend' is from the book of the TVP's Daniel Treacey with an upbeat chorus that smacks of all that was good in old school indie in a hail of fuzzy logic and guitars. From humble beginnings as a home recording project, The Reds, Pinks and Purples has blossomed into a sporadic live unit with tours on both sides of the Atlantic and appearances at Pitchfork Fest London and Woodsist Fest as well as support slots for indie legends such as Destroyer, Guided By Voices, and The Feelies. "Donaldson's best work hides allure within a bigger picture, like a jangle-pop egg hunt" Pitchfork.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE INFINITE STREAM TO ETERNITY LAYS IN THE UNDERSTANDING OF THE WHIRLING ASCENT TO PERFECTION’

Jon Tye, aka Ocean Moon is a man who truly needs no introduction. For the last 30 plus years, the founder of LO RECORDINGS has consistently been a part of some of the most seminal and groundbreaking sonic excursions of our time — MLO, Seahawks, Cherry Garcia, and Brain Machine, to name a few.

After his recent album for Music From Memory, ‘Ways To The Deep Meadow’, Ocean Moon now sets his controls for the heart of the sun and takes the listener on an epic journey into a world of vibration, wild oscillations, molecular transformation and altered states of consciousness.

Inspired by the kaleidoscopic majesty of 4 Hero, Terre Thaemlitz, and Alice Coltrane combined with the the wonders of the cosmos, 'SHIMMERING STATES' is an electronic symphony that feels like a magical sonic voyage into deep space.

The Reds, Pinks & Purples is a San Francisco indie band led by Glenn Donaldson (The Ivy Tree, Skygreen Leopards, Art Museums and Painted Shrine). For fans of_ Guided By Voices, The Chills, Teenage Fanclub, The Shins, The Replacements, Leonard Cohen, The Go-Betweens, Robert Wyatt. Having penned over 200 songs in the last six years, The Reds, Pinks and Purples release a collection of tracks previously unreleased on physical format that continues to romanticise the wonders and woes of the world. With song titles that read like chapter sub-heads for a post-Douglas Coupland novella, 'The Past Is A Garden I Never Fed' takes The Reds, Pinks and Purples central orator Glenn Donaldson through the turmoil of small talk and everyday water cooler moments with a fine sense of pathos and irony. Set to a soundtrack that swerves between the dark days of Television Personalities and Byrdsian twang to the Jarvis Cocker-styled rhetoric and vocal tenderness of 'Richard In the Age Of The Corporation' with hints of everything from Husker Du's fuzzed splendour to the chiming majesty of The Chameleons it's an empowering listen. The pathos and irony of the glorious track 'The World Doesn't Need Another Band' sets out the band's store, it's a measured and quietly outspoken rant at lacklustre opposition peppered with a gorgeous guitar break. Meanwhile, 'I Only Ever Wanted To See You Fail' rumbles with an Eddie And The Hot Rods pre-punk riff before dissolving into a tale of self-doubt and remorse, bemoaning others' good luck. 'Toxic Friend' is from the book of the TVP's Daniel Treacey with an upbeat chorus that smacks of all that was good in old school indie in a hail of fuzzy logic and guitars. From humble beginnings as a home recording project, The Reds, Pinks and Purples has blossomed into a sporadic live unit with tours on both sides of the Atlantic and appearances at Pitchfork Fest London and Woodsist Fest as well as support slots for indie legends such as Destroyer, Guided By Voices, and The Feelies. "Donaldson's best work hides allure within a bigger picture, like a jangle-pop egg hunt" Pitchfork.

What We Have Now is a love-letter to New York City, written by a breaking heart weathering the deep indigo night of a soul realizing dawn will release it
from the dried tears of youth. There is no brighter or harsher wasteland of self-discovery than the one in which we see that childhood is a dream and
the now is something we will have to fabricate alone, from those broken mirror shards of memories in service to a world that does not seem to know
how to care for us any longer.
Full of feeling and shepherded by Clara’s intensely honest vocals, these songs transcend place and time to share a universe of wonders beneath the
hard-wrought questioning of the deeply human condition we are all living within.
Clara Joy is a songwriter full of melody and vision. These home recordings were made by Clara in NYC between 2020 and 2024. The songs were then
arranged, mixed & mastered by Kramer in December 2024 in his studio in the mountains of North Carolina.
Clara is at the dawn of her career and Shimmy-Disc is proud to bring this amazing work to the world. This creation is a beacon on the murky horizon of
this Pyrocene age landscape we find ourselves traversing.

What We Have Now is a love-letter to New York City, written by a breaking heart weathering the deep indigo night of a soul realizing dawn will release it from the dried tears of youth. There is no brighter or harsher wasteland of self-discovery than the one in which we see that childhood is a dream and the now is something we will have to fabricate alone, from those broken mirror shards of memories in service to a world that does not seem to know how to care for us any longer. Full of feeling and shepherded by Clara's intensely honest vocals, these songs transcend place and time to share a universe of wonders beneath the hard-wrought questioning of the deeply human condition we are all living within. Clara Joy is a songwriter full of melody and vision. These home recordings were made by Clara in NYC between 2020 and 2024. The songs were then arranged, mixed & mastered by Kramer in December 2024 in his studio in the mountains of North Carolina. Clara is at the dawn of her career and Shimmy-Disc is proud to bring this amazing work to the world. This creation is a beacon on the murky horizon of this Pyrocene age landscape we find ourselves traversing.

Rhiannon Giddens reunites with her former Carolina Chocolate Drops bandmate Justin Robinson on What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow, an album of North Carolina fiddle and banjo music. Produced by Giddens and Joseph "joebass" DeJarnette, the album features Giddens on banjo and Robinson on fiddle, with the duo playing eighteen of their favourite North Carolina tunes: a mix of instrumentals and tunes with words.

Many were learned from their late mentor, the legendary North Carolina Piedmont musician Joe Thompson; one is from another musical hero, the late Etta Baker, from whom they also learned by listening to recordings of her playing. Giddens and Robinson recorded the album outdoors and on location at Thompson’s and Baker’s North Carolina homes, as well as the former plantation Mill Prong House. They were accompanied by the sounds of nature, including two different broods of cicadas, which had not emerged simultaneously since 1803, creating a true once-in-a-lifetime soundscape. The duo, along with four other string musicians including the multi-instrumentalist Dirk Powell, will embark on the Rhiannon Giddens & The Old-Time Revue North America tour in April.

“With the assaults on reality going on in the world today, we wanted to offer another kind of record, like walking back onto a gravel or dirt road while a stampede goes the other way,” Giddens says. “With the cicada choir, this record could’ve only happened at a certain time in the last 120 years. We doubled down on place, time, realness, and old-fashioned front porch music. It’s a reminder that another way exists, with music made for your community’s enjoyment and for dancing–not solely for commercial purposes.

“What is the role of music in our society?” she wonders. “How do we de-couple it from unfettered capitalism, where music is a product and musicians are incidental? How do we use the tools and system that we have been bequeathed in a way that reminds us of other ways of being?” Robinson adds, "Recording this album felt like being back in the saddle. Just this time Joe is not here, and his fiddle is under my chin. The album is about home, the cicadas, the storms, the music, and the people who make it feel like home."

Thompson was one of the last musicians of his era and his community to carry on the southern Black string band tradition. He played a crucial role in the lives of Giddens and Robinson, who, along with their Carolina Chocolate Drops bandmate Dom Flemons, spent their formative years learning from Thompson in traditional apprentice/mentor relationships. His influence has guided all of their artistic journeys as well as their mission to keep the legacy of the Black string band tradition alive.

In further tribute to Giddens’ North Carolina roots, What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow will arrive just a week before Biscuits & Banjos, the inaugural edition of her first festival, which highlights the deep roots and enduring legacy of Black music, art, and culture while fostering community and storytelling. The sold-out festival will feature a much-anticipated Carolina Chocolate Drops reunion, their first performance together in more than a decade.

Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”

WHO IS ULTAN O’BRIEN? Ultan O’Brien is a fiddle player and composer from the wilds of County Clare in the West of Ireland. Ultan is a performer as well as a regular at sessions all of Ireland and can be found by chance in any pub in Dublin, Cork or some remote village on the edge of nowhere, flying jigs and reels around the room. Ultan was reared in the rich tradition of Irish music which is so commonly found and heard in Co Clare, but he also delves deep into sound art and experimental music. He has often been heard in the back of a car after a few pints quoting lines from Alvin Lucier or speaking at length about improvisation and its place in modern Irish music. Ultan O’Brien is a fresh and vital player who has much to offer with his unique approach and technique to a tradition so old and ever ready for a subtle change every 100 years or so. Ultan has played and recorded with people and bands such as Skipper’s Alley, Eoghan Ó Ceannabháin, John Francis Flynn, Slow Moving Clouds, Cuar, Laura Jurd, Martin Green, Natalia Beylis, Paul Roe and Nic Gareiss. ‘in its Ultan’s fiddle playing sincerity of tone it reminds me somewhat of those great caoineadh which were played with such elusive grandeur by Denis Murphy and Pádraig O’Keefe’ Adrian Scahill ‘lets the heart brighten and the feet tap’ Richard Hollingum -KlofMag


ABOUT THIS WONDERFUL ALBUM: ‘This album, Dancing the Line, is my first solo album of music played on an alternatively-tune alto fiddle. I found that the resonance and growl of this lower tuned instrument sat me perfectly into the sound-world I wanted to be in, giving vibrancy to my own compositions and nestling into the traditional music I grew up with.’

A new full-length from THE ORB following last year's acclaimed album MOONBUILDING 2703 AD.

An expertly crafted ambient experience from two pioneers at the height of their creativity

180g standard vinyl version comes with download code of the full album

Being pioneers with a new album created in no more than 6 months, THE ORB are bound to be exposed to fan expectations running high, while quizzical questions about little fluffy clouds and the good old times take over. It's especially jarring as the duo of accomplished soundsmiths Alex Paterson and Thomas Fehlmann has become known for its genre-bending curiosity and surprising sonic detours, exploring experimental soundscapes as well as club-friendly beats.



The funny thing is, though, that whatever the context, you know a track from THE ORB when you hear it. Case in point: COW / CHILL OUT, WORLD!, their latest full-length offering - a masterful ambient album that branches out in many directions, but unmistakably sounds like THE ORB in either ear (and probably to your third ear, too).



"The idea was simply to make an ambient album", Dr Paterson explains, "we didn't look back and study earlier recordings, but wanted a more spontaneous approach, a focus on THE ORB today, our vibe in 2016."



In contrast to their much-acclaimed previous full-length MOONBUILDING 2703 AD (KOMPAKT 330 CD 124) - which took years to prepare and finetune -, the new album was produced over the course of only five sessions in six months, directly following the like-minded ALPINE EP (KOMPAKT 339): "it got so spontaneous that a track like 9 ELMS OVER RIVER ENO (CHANNEL 9) consisted only of material collected at North Carolina's Moogfest in May - second-hand records from local stores, field recordings, live samples from gigs that we liked, and of course an excursion to the Eno River, which actually exists. This geographic intimacy and the spontaneity are among the top reasons why we love this album so much."


Herr Fehlmann sees the duo's relentless gigging schedule as a formative influence on the new album: "the countless performances we've played in the last years - probably up to 300 - have brought us closer as a musical unit. The spice of our concerts is improvisation - a fertile process that we've brought to the studio, where we operate with very simple rules of engagement (in this case "ambient") and go wherever the flow takes us." It's an approach that one might expect from traditional acoustic instrumentation, not necessarily an electronic set-up, but for THE ORB it works wonders: "we're quite happy and also a little bit proud that we've reached this level of unscripted levity with purely electronic means. We're finessing ourselves, sort of, always looking for the next sonic surprise that leaves us rubbing our eyes about how the heck we got there."


Once more, THE ORB's trademark playfulness is on full display on COW / CHILL OUT, WORLD!, and it doesn't limit itself to the multi-layered sampling and psychedelic sound composites that the duo has become known for - you'll find it in the album title as well. The simple invitation (or order) to chill out (relax Calm the eff down) is converted into an acronym - and the cow that you might expect to find on a Pink Floyd cover or with iconic UK chill-out/dance pranksters The KLF. It's not so much an obscure trope coming full circle as a perfect example for THE ORB's multitimbral approach to sound and meaning - a compelling, immersive journey to diverse places and impressions.



Each track title is a conceptual work in its own right, playing with multiple references, some of which remain highly personal and mysterious. But the greatest feat of THE ORB's latest outing might just be how all this semantic doodling never gets in the way of the actual listening, at all times directly relating the artists' sonic vitality and cheerful nosiness. Chill out world! and treat yourself to an outstanding new ambient experience from THE ORB.

Dienne creates hazy pieces of music full of the melancholy of remembrance and loss combining analogue instruments with reverb-drenched vocals and shimmers of processed electronic sources. Her new album "Conducturis" emerges as a sensory exploration of the human spirit and the boundless horizons of artificial intelligence.

"Abundant in beauty and rich in disturbances" serves as the guiding principle for Belgian composer, Dienne, as she builds songs and soundscapes that portray the images and stories that play behind her eyes.

Combining analogue instruments like the oboe, the piano, and the flute with reverb-drenched vocals and shimmers of processed electronic sources, she creates hazy pieces of music full of the melancholy of remembrance and loss.

Her debut album Addio (2022) was released on Nicolás Jaar's Other People imprint. Addio is a 32-minute study on loss and mourning. Following the death of her grandmother due to Covid-19, and unable to say a proper goodbye due to travel restrictions, Dienne set out to give her "Addio" through musical form. The result is a deeply intimate work that channels classical instrumentation through foggy electronic experimentation.

Memories, biographies, and family histories merge in this simultaneously somber and optimistic work which plays out like a universal and comforting ode to lost loved ones. Her second album, Conducturis, accompanies an immersive film installation delving into speculative fiction, conceptualized by Mira Sanders and Cédric Noël. Conducturis will be released on Cortizona at the end of January 2025.

Conducturis is an immersive film installation project that delves into the realms of speculative fiction, employing the cinematic language of the road movie to envision the ramifications of constructing an artificial brain within the Swiss landscape.

Following their encounters with key figures in the Human Brain Project during an art research expedition in Geneva from 2019 to 2020, conceptualized by Cédric Noël & Mira Sanders, they stumbled upon a remarkable discovery: a hidden fiber-optic cable linking Geneva to Lugano.

Anchored at both ends by the Human Brain Project in Geneva and the CSCS (Centre Suisse de Calcul Scientifique) in Lugano, this conduit facilitated the transmission of intricate brain simulations from the imposing computational hub in Lugano to Geneva via a 'superconductor' cable.

While the nuances of this fiber network eluded the naked eye, Sanders & Noël meticulously pored over maps, gathered endless data, and traversed the terrain. In crafting "Conducturis", they chose to portray an immersive journey along this IT infrastructure connecting Geneva and Lugano, exploring the curious allure of dreaming about artificial landscapes.

The accompanying originalscore by Dienne invites audiences to delve into the intersection of human creativity and machine intelligence. Guided by the principle of being "abundant in beauty and rich in disturbances", Dienne embarks on a sonic exploration of the Swiss landscape, translating its ethereal beauty and technological wonders into evocative musical compositions.

"How can a human sound like a machine?"

This intriguing question lies at the heart of Dienne's artistic endeavor. For her, the soundtrack of "Conducturis'' transcends mere musical notes; it embodies a profound philosophical exploration into the essence of human creativity amidst the rise of artificial intelligence.

Similarly, "How can a human being compose like a machine?" serves as a pivotal inquiry guiding Dienne's creative journey. As she navigates the delicate boundary between human expression and machine cognition, she skillfully intertwines the pulsating rhythms of data transmission with the haunting melodies inspired by artificial landscapes.

Drawing inspiration from the cinematic aesthetics of the road movie genre, as envisioned by Sanders & Noël in their speculation on the construction of an artificial brain, Dienne weaves a sonic tapestry that transports listeners on a contemplative journey through mountains, lakes, and cities.

Each track for "Conducturis" becomes a testament to the fusion of brain and landscape, inviting audiences to ponder the limitless potential of human imagination.

As audiences immerse themselves in the evocative world of "Conducturis", Dienne's soundtrack serves as a guiding force and perfect companion, leading them through a transcendental experience where reality and imagination merge, and the symphony of human and machine harmonizes seamlessly.

"Conducturis" emerges as a sensory exploration of the human spirit and the boundless horizons of artificial intelligence. With Dienne's soundtrack as its heartbeat, this project invites audiences to embark on a voyage of discovery, where the echoes of human creativity reverberate across the digital frontier.

Jawad Nawfal and Mazen El Sayed, better known by their stage names of MUNMA and EL RASS, met for the first time in Beirut, during the summer of 2011. A common friend told Jawad wonders about an MC who rapped and slammed in the classical Arabic language, as opposed to the vernacular Lebanese dialect. The two musicians met in a small café in Beirut’s Hamra neighborhood, spoke of music, argued about politics, and decided to collaborate at once. They began working on tracks the following day. A month later, they had already produced a dozen sketches, instrumental beds and accapella vocal tracks. These demos eventually landed in the hands of Ziad Nawfal and Fadi Tabbal, who set out to bring to life the duo’s first recorded album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” (the title is from a Sufi master-work penned some 900 years ago) was eventually released as a limited edition of 500 CD’s, during a launch event at then-budding alternative venue Metro al Madina in Hamra, on the 22nd of February 2012. These CDs went out of print in record time, as can be expected, and the album’s mythical status became reinforced over time – El Rass & Munma collaborated sporadically during the next ten years, but never fully grasped the level of musical intensity and explosive tension attained on this first outing. It has been a longstanding dream of ours, here at Ruptured, to produce a vinyl version of this album, and we are thrilled to say this moment has finally come. Artist ALI RAFEI’s original artworks have been painstakingly reproduced, the music has been dutifully remastered for vinyl by CEDRIK FERMONT, and the records were pressed by our friends at Mother Tongue in Verona. We added bonus track "Fi Kala'at Tarablus" to this 10th anniversary reissue for good measure – recorded during the same sessions that yielded “Kachf el Mahjoub”, it appears on the digital version of the album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” is a landmark album in Lebanon’s alternative music scene, and the MENA region’s hiphop and indie scenes writ large. At the time of their collaboration, El Sayed was a prolific writer and musician, at ease with a variety of instruments, notorious for his masterful flow in the classical Arabic language, with lyrics tackling both social and political sensitive subjects; Nawfal has previously released an impressive number of albums and EPs, exploring downtempo electronica and ambient dubstep, for a number of Lebanese and international labels. The collision of the former’s brazen, slammed vocals and the latter’s harsh beats works wonders on “Kachf el Mahjoub”, Munma’s sound-world perfectly fitting El Rass’s agitated discourse, alternating between broken beats, elaborate percussion, and ambient layers of synths. At times reminiscent of mutant hiphop outfit Shabazz Palaces, at others of the collaboration between dubstep producer Kode9 and the late vocalist The SpaceApe, this album is an uncanny meeting of Arabic hip-hop and electronica, an exceptional event in the realm of contemporary Lebanese alternative music.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Iconoclastic Buddhist Línjì Yìxuán once remarked, "The miracle is not to walk on water. The miracle is to walk on earth." This profound statement serves as a reminder of the sheer beauty of our planet. We often take for granted the ground beneath our feet and the simple wonders that our ecosystem supports. Everyday activities like walking under a blue sky, feeling the breeze on our skin, or listening to a songbird's melody remind us that Earth is a precious host offering endless marvels.
"Breath," the latest album by Bordeaux-based producer Franck Zaragoza under his Ocoeur project, is a heart-felt tribute to these earthly wonders. This album, perhaps his most sincere and ambitious to date, comprises seven tracks that reflect Zaragoza's deep appreciation for the world around us. "Breath" is tranquil, peaceful, and meditative, yet its expansive, cinematic scope evokes vivid images of Earth's stunning landscapes. The album is both elegantly captivating and a poignant call for peace on our planet.
With "Breath," Zaragoza elevates his Ocoeur project to new heights, celebrating the marvels of the physical world around us.

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”

Norway's progressive sludge masters are about to release the sequel to their highly acclaimed debut album "Animist". The upcoming release, "Determinist", will hit fans of The Ocean, Mastodon, and Igorr right in the face. With expanded diversity, heavier and more of the good stuff - Just the right kind of heavy! The new album takes the listener out of the prehistoric world from "Animist" and into the current and future era of determinism: Humanity has left the world of mysteries, wonders, and chance. In a reality where all is calculated, analyzed, and predetermined, humans thrive on scientific progress, but at what cost? If everything is certain, humans have deprived themselves of the illusion of free will and the wonders of life. Octohawk's sophomore album, Determinist, is a synopsis of the deterministic era, from the humble experimental beginnings to the complete coalescence with ever-flowing information. Each of the seven tracks represents the significant stages in this endeavor, from man on the ground to being a part of the eternal stream.

Days of Shaking continues M G's exploration into the kitchen sink dramas of modern suburbia but behind these songs of frustrated opportunities and the mundane realities of day to day modern living is a world of rumour and mystery, urban myths and the magical thinking we all use to bring shape to our lives, expectations and hopes Like a modern day book of wonders, the songs of Days of Shaking hint at UFO sightings, potential cave gods and visitations of the dead in dreams, all adding to the rich texture of people's wants and needs but ultimately our belief in hope. This balance is seen in the title track and album opener where the protagonist wonders whether he has witnessed a UFO but ends more prosaically with, "Where is the party tonight?/To stand by a tiki bar with Christmas lights/I want something I can't find/ we drive around dark tenements searching". Similarly the heroic fishing photos of 'City Map' poke at deeper yearnings: "is it true you can wake up somewhere new/ just shrug it off and transform?". Often referred to as the artist's artist M G has been a much sought after collaborator in the folk and Americana scenes, having significant tenures in the Simone Felice Group, The Duke and the King, Emily Portman's Coracle Band, Blue Rose Code, The Owl Service & Jon Boden's Remnant Kings.

Days of Shaking continues M G's exploration into the kitchen sink dramas of modern suburbia but behind these songs of frustrated opportunities and the mundane realities of day to day modern living is a world of rumour and mystery, urban myths and the magical thinking we all use to bring shape to our lives, expectations and hopes Like a modern day book of wonders, the songs of Days of Shaking hint at UFO sightings, potential cave gods and visitations of the dead in dreams, all adding to the rich texture of people's wants and needs but ultimately our belief in hope. This balance is seen in the title track and album opener where the protagonist wonders whether he has witnessed a UFO but ends more prosaically with, "Where is the party tonight?/To stand by a tiki bar with Christmas lights/I want something I can't find/ we drive around dark tenements searching". Similarly the heroic fishing photos of 'City Map' poke at deeper yearnings: "is it true you can wake up somewhere new/ just shrug it off and transform?". Often referred to as the artist's artist M G has been a much sought after collaborator in the folk and Americana scenes, having significant tenures in the Simone Felice Group, The Duke and the King, Emily Portman's Coracle Band, Blue Rose Code, The Owl Service & Jon Boden's Remnant Kings.

First forging his DJ craft at underground parties and afters in Southern Brazil, Cauê's deep passion and devotion now resides in all his artistic output. He has built a solid discography spanning the likes of reputable imprints such as Affin, KVLTÖ, Circular Limited and most recently with his own project Ogan Records. In recent years, his active membership of London's budding deep techno scene has helped Cauê to garner his reputation as a highly consistent and prolific producer.

We're delighted to honour Cauê's love of the physical medium with a limited run of vinyl, pressed on 140g black vinyl in Italy and presented in a beautiful matte sleeve. Those who have followed Cauê's work will have observed the thematic constants of mysticism and theology that are woven throughout. Revelations is a brooding work of atmospheric techno. Reprobation opens the A Side with a deep sense of foreboding - a warning perhaps - before three cuts of raw and tunnelling techno that are both delicately introspective and wickedly hypnotic. Rapture is the audial equivalent of sunbeams breaking through the very blackest of storms, a beautifully melancholic piece that can only exist where darkness came before. World To Come closes the B Side with the eschatological sentiment of the wonders that await in the new age.

- The Black Angels' classic sophomore album - Special color edition pressed on Metallic Silver Wax. - Triple LP housed in a Stoughton tri-fold gatefold jacket // "The Black Angels bring the aura of mid-1966 the drilling guitars of early Velvet Underground shows, the raga inflections of late-show Fillmore jams, the acid-prayer stomp of Austin avatars the 13th Floor Elevators everywhere they go, including the levitations on their second album, Directions to See a Ghost. Mid-Eighties echoes of Spacemen 3 and the Jesus and Mary Chain also roll through the scoured-guitar sustain and Alex Maas' rocker-monk incantations. But he knows what time it is. 'You say the Beatles stopped the war," Maas sings in `Never/Ever.' `They might've helped to find a cure/But it's still not over.' Even so, this medicine works wonders." - David Fricke, Rolling Stone Last time we met The Black Angels, they were staring into the desert sun somewhere outside of Austin, Texas. Two years later, night has fallen and the spirits have come out. It's time for The Black Angels to provide Directions On How To See A Ghost. If you're familiar with Passover, the band's 2006 debut, you'll know that The Black Angels's music alone is enough to invoke spirits. There's a name for the band's sound; they call it `hypno-drone 'n roll'. It's the sound of long nights on peyote, of dreams of a new world order, and of half-invented memories of the seamy side of '60s psychedelia. While the Iraq war is still a major influence on the band's lyrics, there are new forces at work here, including Eugene Zamyatin's dystopian novel We and in Christian Bland's words "psychic information from the past and future." See, The Black Angels really are in contact with ghosts. "Civil War battlefields are prime spots for seeing ghosts," says Bland. "One time at Kennesaw mountain in Georgia, I was climbing the mountain in the middle of June and it must have been close to 100 degrees, but in this one particular spot it was very cold. The hairs on my neck stood up and I knew something strange was happening. Then the wind whispered something like `retreat,' and I did. I later learned that the spot where I was on the battlefield was known as `the dead angle', the place where the fiercest fighting took place. The confederates ended up retreating from the mountain towards Peachtree Creek." The Black Angels formed in Austin, Texas, in 2004, comprising from six people (now five) from very different backgrounds. Singer/vocalist Christian Bland is the son of a Presbyterian Pastor and was raised in a devoutly religious household. Bassist / guitarist Nate Ryan was born on a cult compound and drummer Stephanie Bailey claims she's a descendent of Davy Crocket. She and Alex Maas (vocals/guitar) believe a little girl in a red linen dress haunts the group's home. The band released Passover in 2006 to critical acclaim for both the album and the song "The First Vietnamese War". Most of all, Passover established The Black Angels as a band with brains, balls and a strong message. And this time around, the message is there to read in a 16-page booklet that comes with the album. "Our central theme is that people need to open up their minds and let everything come through, and to learn from past mistakes," says Christian. "Only then will we understand the reality of this world and progress beyond where we are now as humans. We've built upon that theme with Directions to See a Ghost. We want people to study the booklet we are providing with the album in hopes that they will be able to relate each song to something in their life." _"War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. Keep Music Evil."_