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TEMACHII creates immersive worlds where music, visual art, nature, and emotion blur together. Evoking the hazy surrealism of a once forgotten dream, the San Antonio-based multi-instrumentalist has built a devoted global audience through ethereal soundscapes, hand-crafted visuals, and songs that feel both deeply personal and universally comforting. Her music pairs ambient textures and dream-pop charm with an intimacy that feels like eavesdropping on an artist in conversation with herself—absorbing influences like Radiohead, Fiona Apple, Mitski and Aphex Twin while remaining less guided by genre than by feeling.

Her 2023 debut, flora maniia, was anchored by the 50 million-streamed hit “may you never forget me,” blending hypnotic acoustic guitar, lilting synths, and airy vocals into a reflection on love, memory, and the desire to leave a lasting impression. The follow-up LP, akrasiia, arrived later that same year, revealing a more stripped-back side of her sound while preserving the wonder at the heart of her work. Together with 2024 single “not/lost,” the releases have brought Temachii's art to fans around the world, a reach that feels especially meaningful given her Puerto Rican heritage. More importantly, they have transformed that audience into something more meaningful than simply streams and likes: a space for listeners to feel both safe and seen.

Mutual Rytm's Versus sub-label returns with a dark, absorbing new EP from contemporary techno innovators Kameliia and BLANKA. Kameliia and BLANKA both previously appeared on Federation of Rytm IV and now step forward with their long-awaited debut EPs. It is another standout for Mutual Rytm's Versus series, which has already made an impact with two previous EPs from Regent and Chontane and Klint and Hemka. This third release subtly evolves the sound into more hypnotic and atmospheric worlds that bring fresh perspectives to the series. Bulgarian-born, Norway-based Kameliia’s music is rooted in cinematic, melancholic and hypnotic sounds. She translates deep emotions into immersive sonic landscapes inspired by nature, particularly the moon, the sky and their atmospheric qualities. Along with Berlin-based Spaniard BLANKA, she has released on labels such as SK_Eleven, while BLANKA also co-founded Room Trax and draws heavily on the human voice, which she considers one of the most personal and intimate instruments. She uses it to create an emotional, direct connection with the dance floor, with a clean, minimal, timeless style rich in emotion. Kameliia opens up with the weighty kicks and eerie atmospheres of 'Bird In A Cage' before 'Red Sky' layers taut kicks and icy synths into a hypnotic forward charge full of depth and darkness, then 'Lightness' has an unsettling and paranoid lead hanging in the air next to vocal fragments and haunting pads. BLANKA’s offering begins with tightly wound kicks and bass on the dubby 'Say It With Me'; 'Self Pleasure' is an immersive and rubbery rhythm with cosmic synth work, and 'Rabbit Habits' brings funky synth lines that radiate a sense of subtle light and hope amidst the darkness of the groove. Two digital bonus cuts from each artist follow: Kameliia's unsettling, dystopian soundscape 'No Longer A Desire' and the backlit suspense of 'Vivere', and BLANKA's gritty, loopy 'Dream VST' and the deep-space odyssey that is 'Gone For Good'.

2026 Repress

What an unbelievable record. From the wild cover to the iconic breakbeats, Roots from Ian Carr’s Nucleus is one of the dopest albums we know. This is seriously thick, funky-prog jazz-rock heaven. Originally released on Vertigo in 1973, other than a couple of versions at the time for other territories, Roots was never re-pressed since so it’s gone on to become another one of those impossible to find records.

Maybe it was a little too out there for the time, but it’s aged very, very well indeed and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels.

Working together with producer Fritz Fryer and engineer Roger Wake, the seven compositions by Carr, Brian Smith and Dave MacRae that make up Roots flirt with perfection, and Nucleus at that time made up of the cream of 1970s UK jazz with Brian Smith on tenor saxophones and flutes, Dave MacRae on piano and electric piano, Jocelyn Pitchen on guitar, Roger Sutton on bass, both Clive Thacker and Aureo De Souza on drums and percussion, Joy Yates delivering the vocals and of course Carr on trumpet.

The spellbinding title track immediately renders the album indispensable. Riding the illest of loping breakbeats, “Roots” is low-slung, doped-out heist-funk. An absolute monster. If it sounds familiar then that’s likely down to it being sampled by Madlib for Lootpack and Quasimoto’s “Loop Digga”, as well as by a whole host of beat manipulators. “Roots” conjures prime instrumental hip-hop / beat music, only 20 years ahead of its time. Truly, these are the roots. Through sinuous bass, twinkling keys and a hypnotic guitar riff, a smoky brass motif weaves its way into a gloriously deep haze around Carr’s solos. “Roots” is over 9 minutes long, but there’s not a single wasted second, not surprising given that this is a condensed version of an originally 40 minute long commissioned composition.

The soothing vocal fusion delight of “Images” follows. Meticulously constructed, with gorgeous flute work from Brian Smith, with Joy Yates’ silky vocals and Dave MacRae’s Rhodes never sounding better. The cool, driving “Caliban” closes out the first side. Originally the third movement in a four part commission to celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday it stands up on its own, all robust rhythms and blended brass. Keyboard colour and Carr’s trumpet are splashed across the funk drums and basslines (and there’s even some bamboo flute). This really is fusion: the elements of jazz and rock coming together in beautifully synthesis.

Side two opens in riotous fashion with the short, thrilling samba of “Wapatiti”. Next up, “Capricorn” forms a smoothed-out, jazzy constellation. Mellow and dreamy, its twinkling percussion and languid horns slowly build the vibe before head-nod drums and a killer bassline enter the fray. With a distinct heaviness that Black Sabbath would’ve envied, “Odokamona” is a venomous slice of riff-soaked jazz metal (yes, you read that right), elevated by Carr’s wah-wah horns.

The album closes with MacRae’s exceptionally cosmic “Southern Roots and Celebration”. Very much in conversation with Weather Report, it opens as a languorous, spiritual jazz of chiming keys and serene guitar that turns slowly, gorgeously into a mid-paced, brass-laced banger. It’s another sure-fire party starter and the sound of the band having a righteous blast, building an ecstatic chaos that ends with Yates screaming.

And of course we need to talk about Keith Davis’ cover for Roots. Perhaps the coolest record cover of all time? Certainly one of the most bonkers. Just your run-of-the-mill high-gloss, acid-tinged airbrush dystopian/utopian living-room party scene. Consider this your chemical flashback trigger warning.

Front-and-centre the hip-to-death green robot holds court with their giant ball of yellow barbwire wool, hooked up to… something(?) being teased out from under the stairs (probably best not to ask). A thoroughly zoned-out, long-legged Pop Art party-goer lounges half-plugged in to the painting behind her as a pair of legs flail into shot from the the top of the stairs opposite. We won’t even begin to guess what the chap’s up to in the middle, but the view out of the windows is rather nice, and someone’s already got the hoover out ready to tidy up. All of the Nucleus sleeves are something special, but this particular one? Crikey.

This Be With edition of Roots has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The crazy cover has been restored at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Balaise was the original title of Vers le Nord’s debut album. In French slang, balaise means something in between badass and flamboyant. The word keeps popping up throughout the record, like a teenager’s graffiti scrawled on a bus shelter after a few drinks. Balaise robots. Balaise ghosts lurking in the shadows. Balaise is the barfly who fantasies about becoming a street vigilante. In many ways, Matthieu Pellerin's new solo project is entirely contained within that word: a gigantic piece one man against the world cobbled together, a monument shaped by hand using layers of synthesizers sounding like cathedral organs cast in concrete.


Stitching this type of freak together took time. Five years, or what sounds like forever in an age obsessed with career trajectories and content strategies. But for Matthieu Pellerin, it was never about career plans or taking the easy road. Or he would have dug up the rotting corpse of Oi Boys, his now-defunct band, whose brief existence and explosive popularity once united sullen skinheads, gothic street punks, and old school punks alike. Or he would have fully embraced the Metz scene, now that the Great International Triple Alliance of the East (Noir Boy George, The Dreams, The Feeling Of Love...) and rising solo acts like Tune Zitoune, Josy Bazar, Fantôme Josepha, and Tony Gerrano have somehow transformed this sprawling open-air heroin camp into an unlikely capital of cool. But Vers le Nord doesn't point East, and it is as a lone rider that Matthieu Pellerin can fully reveal his songwriting scope.


With Le Seul Élément, his first solo project, the Lorraine native had already shown a rare gift for crafting worlds. Picture vast sonic masses stretching like industrial zones, noise-filled fog pierced by pale neon lights and landscapes caught somewhere between the gnarliest dive bar and a doomsday bunker. And slipping through the soul-crushing slowness and fractured blackened atmospheres, one could perceive a throwback to his years plotting in black metal-tinged Loth and Bishop.

Vers le Nord populates those landscapes that once were rough sketches. Damaged characters reign supreme, with a plethora of exquisite mutts brought to life, rather than outcasts committed to the cause. Where Nuits Blanches —his new supergroup featuring members of Rixe, Lion's Law, Headbussa and La Femme— pulls no punches with raw confessions, Pellerin switches gear for tales of robot apocalypses, vagrants and fam-seeking school shooters, delivered with William Sheller-esque rhymes and striking images. Yet even within fiction, he manages to create something deeply intimate, almost defining, showing very little effort: he is a natural. All in all, à l’aise (at ease). Songs resonate deeply with the listener, perhaps because of Pellerin’s odd way or always addressing someone without ever really naming them, a floating, obsessive and inescapable “you” calling us out.


Despite all of the darkness, Vers le Nord stirs deep emotions. There is something of Type O Negative or Anna von Hausswolff in its constant collision of the ludicrous and the epic gothic, its bleak romanticism that never tells a sordid tale. While the vocals remain rooted in a distinctly French punk lineage—think No Class, La Souris Déglinguée and OG Bérurier Noir—the reactor core is hidden somewhere else. Oneohtrix Point Never feels like a closer relative with his ultra-emotional music made of cold synths and disembodied anthems, swallowing and regurgitating forty years of icy, contemplative new wave across ten songs. It comes as no surprise that Lila Ehjä and Aimable, two rising specialists in lowering the temperature below seasonal norms, appear on “Enterrez-moi bordel” (“Bury Me, for fuck's sake”), a grandiose, spectral and magnificently arrogant finale. And in the end, Vers le Nord starts where the original idea was hiding all along: somewhere amid the ruins, definitely balaise and yet somehow, completely à l'aise.

Nickodemus is a traveler at heart—a connecter of worlds, scenes, and people since the mid-90s. Over his extensive career as a touring DJ and producer, including five albums, hundreds of remixes in his “Remix Machine” and two dozen compilations of cutting edge up incoming producers from around the World, remains one of the most important leaders of global fusion and the heavy beats we yearn for in the club. His music has long thrived on the close relationships and mutual respect of friends he’s built across the continents, felt through the worldly potions he cooks up in the studio, and spanning electronic sounds rooted in Latin, African, and Eastern instrumentation. His latest album, Soul & Science is a collaborative effort between old and new friends, recorded in several countries while touring as well as his home studio / record room / memorabilia museum.

This limited 7” pairs two standout remixes from Nickodemus’ 2023 album Soul & Science, bridging deep-rooted collaboration with modern dancefloor energy. On the A-side, Ben Gomori reimagines “Rumba Tobacco y Ron”—a trans-Caribbean production born between Puerto Rico and Cuba, featuring contributions from Tempo & The Candela All-Stars and Haydee Soul—into a chopped, electronic club cut that retains its original horns, piano, and vocal spirit. On the B-side, Tigerbalm delivers a driving, four-on-the-floor remix of “Mama Tchipp (Follow Me),” flipping the Afro-disco anthem with steady basslines, punchy drums, and Pat Kalla’s infectious vocals primed for peak-time play.

With a career spanning over 25 years, Nickodemus remains a globally recognized force in eclectic, genre-blurring dance music, boasting 60k+ Spotify followers, 811k+ monthly listeners, and over 350 million streams across his catalog, alongside more than 20,000 physical records sold worldwide. His breakout collaboration with Quantic and Candela All-Stars, “Mi Swing Es Tropical,” became a bona fide international hit with over 75 million cumulative streams and a key placement in the Chef soundtrack directed by Jon Favreau. On remix duties, Ben Gomori—founder of the UK-based Monologues Records—brings his signature touch, having previously reworked artists including Oby Onyioha, Segun Adewale, Dawda Jobarteh, and Amadou Balaké. The release is already receiving strong international radio support, with airplay and tastemaker backing from Gilles Peterson, BBC Radio 6 Music, FIP, RFI, Radio 3 (Generación Ya), 2SER, KCRW (Top Tune of the Day), and KEXP, signaling strong demand and cross-market appeal for DJs, collectors, and global music audiences alike.

a A1: Rumba Tobacco y Ron (ft. Haydèe Soul) Ben Gomori Remix
b B1: Mama Tchipp (Follow Me) [Tigerbalm Remix] [feat. Pat Kalla]

[a] A1: Rumba Tobacco y Ron (ft. Haydèe Soul) [Ben Gomori Remix]
[b] B1: Mama Tchipp (Follow Me) [Tigerbalm Remix] [feat. Pat Kalla]

[a] A1 | Rumba Tobacco y Ron (ft Haydèe Soul) [Ben Gomori Remix]
[b] B1 | Mama Tchipp (Follow Me) [Tigerbalm Remix] [feat Pat Kalla]

[a] A1 | Rumba Tobacco y Ron (ft Haydèe Soul) [Ben Gomori Remix]
[b] B1 | Mama Tchipp (Follow Me) [Tigerbalm Remix] [feat Pat Kalla]

Berlin's Hypersoft crew launch their new vinyl label with Clínica Electrónica by Italian DJ, producer and Evasione Digitale co-founder Andrea Dama. Following the start of their new residency at Panorama Bar, the label opens its catalogue with a strictly limited five-track EP recorded at Buenos Aires' legendary La Siesta del Fauno, bringing Dama's Berlin dancefloor sensibility together with the peculiar chemistry of one of the world's most extraordinary electronic music studios. Forged through extended jam sessions on an array of vintage analogue instruments, including the original Korg PS-3300, Moog modular and Yamaha CS-80, the spontaneity of the sessions translates directly into the finished tracks, where ideas mutate, collide and develop into unexpected forms. Switching gears between hypnotic, mechanical, groove-driven house, and stuttering, furious, off-kilter techno, Dama moves deep into more atmospheric territory, conjuring worlds that are at once lush, organic, paranoid and extraterrestrial. An analogue vision of a future past, built by machines that were already imagining it decades ago.

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

Navigators

Franco Falsini and the Interactive Test Universe

There are musicians who follow their time.

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

The Beginning: Machines, Tape and Space

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

The City That Never Sleeps

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

Tuscany, Early 1990s

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

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

The Laboratory of Identities

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

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

Domestic Machines, Infinite Worlds

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

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

A Hidden Constellation

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

Continuing the Journey

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

A line defined by exploration.

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

Interactive Test was one of its stations.

A laboratory.
A community.
A creative platform.

This compilation gathers some of its traces.

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

Like all true sonic explorations.

(*Previously unreleased)

Telling a tale of house music’s early days or roots without mentioning Tony Humphries as a club DJ, remixer and radio disc jockey would make it an incomplete, forged and most of all a bit of a yawn.
Born in Brooklyn in 1957, Humphries’ musical journey is synonymous with New York City’s dance music history and the evolution from uptempo soul music to house: from being a dancer at David Mancuso’s infamous Loft parties to becoming a mobile DJ and getting the call from Shep Pettibone to become his right hand at
the then new Kiss FM radio station, followed by countless remix offers and a legendary residency at Newark’s Club Zanzibar. Next to that one, is was especially his work as a radio disc jockey for said station during most of the 1980s until 1994 that gave him majestic clout. Breaking new records week in, week out,
putting New Jersey acts like Adeva and Jomanda or countless up-and-coming producers from there on the musical map, while simultaneously playing the hottest imports from Europe, trax from Chicago, dance classics and all things straight from New York’s music factory that never seemed to stop.
Going to his vast and almost complete archive of radio shows from way back when he graced those airwaves, we at Running Back Records have pickedNew Release Information original recordings that symbolize his importance as an industry giant and ambassador of this style of music.
„But one thing I would like to point out is that, as a DJ, the music I play is not my music. I want to make it perfectly clear that it is music that is released, and it’s everyone’s music. I do not take any other credit than being the middle person exposing this music.“
(Tony Humphries in: What Kind of House Party Is This?, Jonathan Fleming, 1996)

Ayô Dele — which means "joy comes to me" in Yoruba — is neither a slogan nor a promised miracle. It is a breath of fresh air. That of an album born in the interstices, where the word find their way between shadow and light, between the disorder of the worldand the impulse to be .
At the heart of the project, Julien Gervaix and Damien Tesson, multi-instrumentalist beatmakers, share a groove language that is both dense and airy, where every detail breathes and finds its place.
With background in Afrobeat, Dub, Funk, Soul, Roots Reggae, and Electronic Music, they treat the studio to be their playground. Their music is a hybrid groove that speaks to the body: round or bouncing basslines, brass oscillating between melodic warmth and funk energy, textured guitars, arpeggios, enveloping Rhodes, clavinet that slides, presses, and embraces. Everything comes together with precision and flexibility, in an inventive and warm composition. The meeting of their experiences and sensibilities gives rise to open, generous music, made for dancing and vibration.
With Ayô Dele , Ireke is embarking on a new chapter: the duo is refining its style,allowing the voices to breathe. The groove remains the driving force but opens up to intimacy. This intimacy is carried by two unique female voices: Nayel Hoxo, a Beninese-Nigerian singer/rapper, and Agnès Hélène, who has already made a name for herself on Tropikadelic with "Petit a Petit". They don't sing side-by-side; they coexist, respond to each other, and sometimes intersect. But each follows her own path: Nayel, with the power of her words in Yoruba, offers songs of elevation, healing, and resistance — a light born in the cracks Agnès explores these cracks themselves: what wavers within us, what reinvents itself in bonds, glances, and gestures.
For one track, Olivya (Dowdelin) joins this dialogue in Martinican Creole. Her sunny soul sketches the contours of gentle resistance and celebrates rediscovered light.
Ayô Dele embodies a quiet yet radical determination: to smooth nothing over, to let plurality, contradictory emotions, and mixed heritage live. An album that moves forward through vibrations, that speaks of emancipation without slogans, love without clichés, anger without uproar.
Two women, two inner worlds: a sensitive complicity, a shared breath. Music that seeks not effect, but echo, weaving a living soundscape between reinvented traditions and contemporary textures. An alchemy faithful to the spirit of Underdog Records, where music unites and brings people together. Ayô Dele : "joy comes to me." A lucid joy, crossed by shadows, patiently regained. Music that welcomes, releases, gives, and in doing so, makes us feel good.
In a saturated world, Ayô Dele chooses nuance: transmission without emphasis, joy without naivety. An album that vibrates more than it demonstrates, that connects more than it imposes, and which, in its quiet clarity, resonates with a deep desire to be fully alive.

This first-time reissue of Quinteplus’ 1971 album revives a key moment in Argentine jazz, featuring crisp trumpet and tenor sax, electric piano-driven funk and modal grooves, and a tight, spacious rhythm section. It showcases prominent figures like Jorge Anders and “Pocho” Lapouble.

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Quinteplus was born in Buenos Aires at the end of the 1960s, emerging directly from the ideas and experiments of the legendary Agrupación Nuevo Jazz. Founded in the early ’60s, this collective brought together some of the most forward thinking figures in Argentine jazz functioned as a creative lab where musicians questioned where jazz could go next. Among the key ideas discussed was the fusion of jazz with Argentine folk styles such as zamba, chacarera, malambo, cueca, and candombe, as well as a deeper look into African rhythms as a bridge between musical worlds.

Two members of that collective, keyboardist Santiago Giacobbe and bassist Jorge “Negro” González, carried those ideas forward when they formed Quinteplus in 1969. The group came together naturally: all the musicians already knew each other and had played in different projects around the Buenos Aires scene. They shared a strong admiration for Julian “Cannonball” Adderley’s quintet, along with a clear goal—to develop a modern jazz language grounded in local Argentine rhythms.

From the start, Quinteplus stood out for its openness and adventurous spirit. Rhythm was central, and so was experimentation. The band belonged to a generation of Argentine jazz musicians eager to explore electric instruments and new textures, anticipating what would soon be known as jazz-rock. This was happening in Buenos Aires at the very same time Miles Davis was opening new doors with “In a Silent Way” and “Bitches Brew”. Giacobbe introduced one of the first Fender electric pianos in Argentina, while González pioneered the amplification of the upright bass and even developed a hybrid electric, boxless version of the instrument. Trumpeter Gustavo Bergalli, meanwhile, maintained close ties with the emerging Argentine rock scene, collaborating with Luis Alberto Spinetta and appearing on Almendra’s first album.

In 1971, Quinteplus recorded its first and only studio album for EMI. The original lineup featured Jorge Anders on tenor saxophone, Bergalli on trumpet, Giacobbe on keyboards, González on upright and electric bass, and Norberto “Pocho” Lapouble on drums and percussion—who also illustrated the album’s iconic sleeve. The record is a refined showcase of the band’s musical vision: original compositions, fluent jazz language, folk-derived rhythms, funky electric textures, tight ensemble playing, and standout brass solos. Though critically praised, the album received little label support and sold modestly, eventually becoming a sought-after collector’s item.

Quinteplus disbanded in 1973, their music was perhaps too bold and unconventional for its time.

Métron Records announces Mycorrhizal Music, the forthcoming album from composer and multi instrumentalist Ess Whiteley. Currently a PhD candidate in Composition at the University of California-San Diego, Whiteley’s practice spans recordings, installations, performances, and scores, a body of work as diverse as the fungal webs that inspire it.

Across seven tracks, Whiteley explores interconnected sound worlds shaped by mycelium networks, rhizomatic structures, and other unseen systems that sustain life. Rooted in experimental electronics, minimalism, ambient and IDM, the record imagines sound as ephemeral connective tissue capable of reshaping how a listener might experience time, memory, and futurity.

At the core of Whiteley’s work is an excavation of what lies beneath perception, the felt but unspoken currents of emotionality and subtle experiences that dwell in the unconscious.

Mycorrhizal Music channels these hidden threads into a speculative ecosystem of kinship and exchange, where joy, play, and spirituality interlace like branching hyphae beneath the soil. Mycorrhizal Music has been conceived as kinetic ambient music, designed to move with the listener while walking, riding trains, driving, cooking, where everyday rhythms align with shifting sonic textures, reminding them of hidden, interconnected, mycelial webs of spiritual vitality beneath the surfaces of daily activity.

Guided by a vision of speculative ecology and interspecies resonance, it thrives in contrasts: tracks like Rhizomatic Harpists and Whispered Messages in Tapestried Fields of Fluid Motion pulse with fluid momentum, while Kaleidoscopic Patterns of Emptiness Dancing drifts into fragile stillness.

With artwork by Kenta Senekt and mastering by Brandon Hocura, Mycorrhizal Music extends Métron Records’ ethos of cultivating subtle, interconnected sound worlds.

Perhaps you've chanced upon a Number Station, unwittingly as you scour the shortwave bands, and heard a cold, disconnected voice repeating simple commands endlessly into the ether. Or maybe you've scanned past a series of bleeps and pips, or pockets of noise, thinking nothing of them, as you seek a favoured music station. These are messages, to those who know how to receive them, and are able decode them in their various forms and configurations.

Shropshire Number Stations - Recordings of Covert Shortwave Radio Stations charts the covert shortwave radio stations broadcasting silently through the air around us, to aspirant agents in the fields of Shropshire, UK and the counties which surround it. These two continuous sides include recordings of 19 such lay-stations, captured by Eric Loveland Heath at various points over the last few years. The true nature of these amateur networks may never be known, nor might their cyphers ever be revealed. These are recordings of their activities, made conceivably for the sake of posterity alone, offering a glimpse into clandestine worlds otherwise obscured from view.

Glenn Astro leans into the twilight months of 2024 with a new album from his Delta Rain Dance project. Divining fourth world sensibilities from his restlessly curious studio workflow, Astro weaves a mesmerising tapestry of sound on Music For Autumn which treads the line between horizontal meditation and head- nodding, backroom-ready groove.

Amongst his constellation of myriad aliases, Delta Rain Dance spells out the inspiration Astro takes from fourth world pioneer Jon Hassell. The project first surfaced with a string of tapes, LPs and digital releases around 2018, all carried on a label of the same name to keep Delta Rain Dance enclosed in its own space
independent of Astro's many other musical endeavours.

"I’m really into the world building aspect in science fiction and fantasy," says Astro. "This is my way of creating worlds and spaces that co-exist next to each other. Sometimes they collide but mostly they exist peacefully next to each other or pursue some form of cultural exchange by collaborating with each other."

There's a strong sense of balance and cohesion throughout Music For Autumn, as organic percussion and instrumentation wraps around delicate synthesis and patient drum machine pulses so naturally it's hard to spot the joins. The sound has plenty of room to stretch out, from the mantra-like chimes and rattles of the album opener 'Green Light Fade' to the luxury funk of 'Mmmh, Nice' (featuring fellow Tartelet alumni Nelson of the East). At times the electronic elements seem to entirely dissolve, not least behind the loping strings and tumbledown percussion of 'Second Sleep', while achingly beautiful closer 'Plucked' centres on the fluttering movement and expression Astro elicits from his modular setup.

True to the project's influences, a consistent ambiguous mood lingers in the air over Music For Autumn somewhere between far- flung mystery and comforting familiarity, reliably calm but equally contemplative. It's an odyssey of serenity with enough nuance to make you really think, perfect for the days getting shorter, leaves crunching underfoot and the last fading rays of warmth from the sun.

Astral travel with Cybotron into the meta-narrative of the Parallel Shift, a new sonic fiction that raises many questions about military science of the near-future and the possibility of other worlds.
Descending backward through the rhythms of time, the Skynet module retracts from the hyper-structural society of 2100, edging toward the mid-century modern age teetering on the brink of what was then the frontier of “the future”. The system boots the Infiniti process, morphing into a cosmotechnic vessel coursing the superhighway of burgeoning general intelligence, seeking data from just before “the overshoot and collapse.”
R&D methods, rhythmanalytically applied, dissect the aftermath of an industrial society that burst through the ecological capacity of Spaceship Earth. Fractal visions of war and innovation spike and recede from and into the surfaces of reality being bent and guiding the eyes, ears, touch towards a laboratory in the year 1961. A nuclear expert, Don Lewis, receives orders to decrypt the mysterious black dodecagonal disc known as Fortec and the extraterrestrial biology unearthed in Roswell. He joins a team disassembling Fortec and studying the recurrent dodecahedral patterns linked to the human nervous system.
Through dismantling and probing, the team cycles through a saecular search devoid of finite conclusions, limited by Earth’s intellectual and technological prowess. One 1960s night, Lewis, while meddling with Fortec’s cyborganic innards, accidentally electrifies himself. His cyclotron and missile experience guides him to circuit-bend Fortec, stirring the entity from a mechanical slumber. Lewis and Fortec communicate in resonances, until it drifts back into a tranquil stasis.
The US Defense and contractors, unbeknownst to them, observe this breakthrough. They later permit Lewis to exit military service as the Air Force forms the Foreign Technology Division. Concurrently, MJ12 evolves into CY12, delving into second-order cybernetics. Lewis clandestinely keeps working on Fortec fragments, transitioning from military engineer to musician, pioneering the LEO module, a fusion of Fortec’s essence and audio engineering.
He shares his insights with Roland founder Ikutaro Kakehashi, aiding the creation of the iconic TR-808. Meanwhile, Fortec branches out, coining “Cyberspace” – a collective illusion of liberty unshackled by physical, political, or spiritual bounds, anchored in the equitable distribution of The Golden Ratio across realities. Yet “Cyberspace” morphs into a chaotic truth reservoir, spilling over into deception.
The Parallel Shift manifests in the perpetual “Now,” a collapsed event horizon where past and future are ensnared in a relentless present, unfurling along a dissolving timeline, overseen by a monolithic simulation under ceaseless watch…
— The Rhythmanalyst aka DeForrest Brown, Jr.

David Byrne & Fatboy Slim’s acclaimed 2010 album Here Lies Love receives its first-ever vinyl release to coincide with a new production opening on Broadway this summer. Here Lies Love is a double-disc song cycle – improbably poignant, decidedly surreal, surprisingly thought provoking – about the rise and fall of the Philippines' notorious Imelda Marcos. It was conceived by David Byrne; composed by Byrne and DJ/recording artist Fatboy Slim, AKA Norman Cook; and performed by a dream cast drawn from the worlds of indie rock, alt country, R&B and pop. Byrne's taste in collaborators is as imaginative as it is impeccable, including Cyndi Lauper (who recounts, to lighthearted disco beats, Imelda's courtship with Ferdinand Marcos), Steve Earle (as the power-hungry Ferdinand), Dap-Kings vocalist Sharon Jones (recalling Imelda's introduction into New York society) and Natalie Merchant (as spurned Imelda confidante Estrella, anticipating the onset of martial law). Along with vocals turns from such stars as Tori Amos and the B-52's Kate Pierson, Byrne works with rising indie rockers St. Vincent and My Brightest Diamond; New York chanteuses Nellie McKay and Martha Wainwright; and dance-music divas Róisín Murphy and Santigold. Byrne himself appears as the voice of imperialistic America on ‘American Troglodyte’, a send-up that wouldn't have seemed out of places in Talking Heads' True Stories.



Byrne originally envisioned this as a musical theatre piece, to be mounted in disco and nightclub settings, reflecting the globe-trotting Marcos' taste for such velvet-roped spots as Studio 54 and Regine's. In 2006, he performed work-in-progress versions to enthusiastic audiences at New York City's Carnegie Hall and the Adelaide Festival in Australia. While plans for a US theatrical production continued to evolve, he delivered this unique recording. The award-winning theatrical production eventually premiered at The Public Theater in New York in 2013, travelled to London’s National Theater for a sold-out run (2014–15), and was remounted at the Seattle Repertory Theater (2017).



Here Lies Love has an effervescent disco feel, redolent of Fatboy Slim's own dance-floor anthems, with warm undercurrents of the Latin rhythms that have percolated through Byrne's recent solo work. The sunny arrangements act in counterpoint to the reality of the Marcos' increasingly repressive regime, reflecting the imagined inner life of the glamour-obsessed Imelda. Explains Byrne, "For me, the darker side of the excesses are, for the most part, a matter of record. A lot of the audience is going to come with that knowledge already. What's more of a challenge is to get inside the head of the person who was behind all of that, and understand what made them tick." Byrne offers no judgment and avoids the obvious – there is no mention of Imelda's infamous shoe collection.



Many of Byrne's lyrics are, astonishingly enough, constructed from actual Imelda quotes, including the project's title, the words that Imelda, now returned to the Philippines from US-assisted exile in Hawaii, would like to have inscribed on her gravestone. In addition to his new liner note, Byrne illustrates the story with archival photos. In a detailed preface, he reveals what drew him to this subject and the bumpy route he took to launch the project and, ultimately, record this album. The booklet is indeed a page-turner, just as Here Lies Love is a wonderfully old-school album that rewards start-to-finish listening. Once again, Byrne – beloved as musician, thinker and bicyclist-about-town – reveals the breadth and singularity of his vision.



The new production of Here Lies Love will premiere at the Broadway Theatre in New York City. Performances begin June 17, ahead of an official opening night on July 20. Tony Award winner Alex Timbers (direction) and Olivier Award nominee Annie-B Parson (choreography) reunite with Byrne (concept, music, and lyrics) and Fatboy Slim (music) to bring Here Lies Love to Broadway, continuing a ten-plus year collaboration on the project. Tom Gandey and J Pardo contribute additional music. Here Lies Love is produced on Broadway by Hal Luftig, Patrick Catullo, Diana DiMenna for Plate Spinner Productions, Clint Ramos, and Jose Antonio Vargas. The staging at the Broadway Theatre will transform the venue’s traditional proscenium floor space into a dance club environment, where audiences will stand and move with the actors. A wide variety of standing and seating options will be available throughout the theatre’s reconstructed space. The producers of Here Lies Love said, “As a team of binational American producers – Filipinos among us – we are thrilled to bring Here Lies Love to Broadway! We welcome everyone to experience this singularly exuberant piece of theatre. The history of the Philippines is inseparable from the history of the United States, and as both evolve, we cannot think of a more appropriate time to stage this show. See you on the dance floor!”



David Byrne’s recent works include the launch of Reasons to be Cheerful, an online magazine focused on solutions-oriented stories about problems being solved all over the world (2019); Joan of Arc: Into the Fire, a theatrical exploration of the historical heroine that premiered at the Public Theater in New York (2017); The Institute Presents: NEUROSOCIETY, a series of interactive environments created in conjunction with PACE Arts + Technology that question human perception and bias (2016); Contemporary Color, an event inspired by the American folk tradition of color guard and performed at Brooklyn’s Barclays Center and Toronto’s Air Canada Centre (2015); Here Lies Love; Love This Giant, a studio album and worldwide tour created with St. Vincent (2012); and How Music Works, a book about the history, experience, and social aspects of music (2012).



Byrne curated Southbank Centre’s annual Meltdown festival in London in 2015. A co-founder of the group Talking Heads (1976–88), he has released eight studio albums as a solo artist and worked on multiple other projects, including collaborations with Brian Eno, Twyla Tharp, Robert Wilson, and Jonathan Demme, among others. He also founded the highly respected record label Luaka Bop. Recognition of Byrne’s various works include Obies, Drama Desk, Lortel, and Evening Standard awards for Here Lies Love; an Oscar, Grammy, and Golden Globe for the soundtrack to Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Last Emperor; and induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with Talking Heads. Byrne’s work as a visual artist has been published and exhibited since his college days, including photography, filmmaking, and writing. He lives in New York City. In addition to 2019’s cast album for American Utopia on Broadway, Nonesuch has released eight other David Byrne records since 2003, including 2018’s American Utopia studio album and two versions of his musical Here Lies Love.



















q C6. Please Don't feat. Santi White Santigold

"Do you feel what I feel too?" Brijean Murphy floats the question at the start of Feelings, the full-length Ghostly International debut from Brijean, her collaborative project with Doug Stuart. Guided by a lush mix of charismatic keyboard chords, grooving bass lines, and radiant bongo-driven rhythms, the "Day Dreaming" lyric doubles as an invitation and a statement of intention. Brijean want you to move, physically, mentally, dimensionally; this is dance music for the mind, body, and soul. With Feelings, they've manifested a gentle collective space for respite, for self-reflection, for self-care, for uninhibited imagination and new possibilities. The album cultivates a specific vibe, a softness Murphy has come to call "romancing the psyche." Growing up in a family immersed in jazz, Latin and soul music, Murphy would become an accomplished DJ, session and live player in Oakland's diverse music scene and one of indie's most in-demand percussionists (Poolside, Toro Y Moi, U.S. Girls). In 2018, she began recording songs with multi-instrumentalist and producer Doug Stuart, who shares a background in jazz and pop in bands such as Bells Atlas, Meernaa, and Luke Temple. Following their first sessions, which resulted in the mini-album Walkie Talkie (released in 2019 on Native Cat Recordings), the duo continued freeform hangs in Oakland, inviting friends Chaz Bear, Tony Peppers, and Hamir Atwal. "We improvised on different feels for hours," says Murphy. "Nothing quite developed at first but we had seeds. We re-opened the sessions a couple months later, after returning from tours, and spent a month developing the songs in a little 400 square foot cottage." Aforementioned album opener "Day Dreaming" is a dynamic celebration of newness: the excitement in finding deeper understandings of yourself as you get to know someone, something, or somewhere new. "Wifi Beach" drops a pin in pure psych-pop exotica. With Atwal on drums, Stuart on bass, Peppers on keys, and Bear engineering, the group improvised the track's intro sequence based on the vision of a lavish 1970s pool party. Establishing the scene is a mid-frequency drum kit disco shuffle augmented by tight congas and timbale effect, as Murphy sings in spurts: "I want to be / Deep in love / I want to be / Say you love me too / I want to be / Honey." The stanzas cut between "reflective moments of wants and being overwhelmed by feelings of the present," she explains. "A lot of the `love songs' I write are to my psyche, self-reflections on how to encourage tender perspectives and make more time for the sweet stuff." Though there is a loose, dance-oriented motif throughout, the material gives way to somnolent turns. On "Ocean," Brijean's anodyne lyrics, reminiscent of Astrud Gilberto's airy croon, float atop a brushed drum pattern, sparkling rhodes lines, and pittering and softly funky woodblock bops. The opening line sets up the rest, "In this gentle space we lay" _ among the album's propensity for movement, tracks like "Ocean" stand out by leaning back for momentary sways of blissful introspection. Murphy calls the charming "Hey Boy" a "psychedelic guide _ the exploration of finding what feels good _ through sorrow, anxiety, apathy." This mentality applies to Feelings on the whole: in these nebulous and verdant worlds of hazy melodies, feathery hooks, and percussive details, the songs simply want us to feel alive. They radiate in wonderful abandon and with a sense of devotion to the self. RIYL: Stereolab, Astrud Gilberto, Air, Little Dragon, Broadcast, Khruangbin, Poolside.

floatist

Welcome to Somewhere Else Entirely – a cinematic road trip to the sea, picking up traces of Indie Folk, Dream Pop and Neo-Soul along the way.

Floatist's debut explores finding connection in uncertain times through playful yet driving grooves, cinematic strings and hazy analogue soundscapes - embracing the unknown with curiosity, courage and joy.

Somewhere Else Entirely brings together twelve tracks that drift between worlds. Gentle, intimate voices tell stories and merge into immersive choirs, floating on airy grooves. The music invites the listener to sink in, get comfortable, roll down the imaginary window and lean their head into the warm rush of air, while sun-drenched maritime landscapes pass by and the salty breeze announces the approaching sea.

For fans of: Helena Deland, Nick Hakim, Puma Blue, Feist, Konradsen, Clairo, Alice Phoebe Lou, Lianne La Havas, Lutalo, Klangstof, Sam Evian, Hannah Cohen, Rosie Lowe

Lovemonk and Barcelona’s Marula Café bring back their Marula Soulfood 7" series with two standout tracks taken from The Jade’s debut album, "Love Harder". Behind The Jade is Oli Stewart, aka Casbah 73, leading a transatlantic ensemble of top-tier musicians equipped with heart and heat, bridging worlds while remaining firmly centered around home base Madrid.

‘Let The light In’ is a radiant burst of sunshine and a riotous cross-pollination of sounds. Nebraska’s Josh Hoyer delivers a powerhouse vocal performance, soaring over exuberant rhythms and fluid grooves that feel right at home in sweat-filled basement clubs or an open-air set as the sun dips low over the horizon. On the flip, ‘At The Queensboro’ is a beautiful jazz-funk instrumental that stretches out with elegance, giving its wonderful groove plenty of room to breathe. It was highlighted as one of BBC 6 Craig Charles’ favourite tracks of 2025.

When everything around is racing blindly toward ruin, change direction and spin as fast as you can until you defy gravity and rise above the ground into blissful madness. "K-drone", the debut album by three renegades—Jakub Šimanský, Michal Vaľko, and Ján Podracký—is like a hallucinatory Calvary with five stations. Each station is a time-loop capsule, a tiny utopia sneering at the phantom progress of the world outside.

The opening track, "Speedrone", is pure vertigo; for seven long minutes, there's nothing to hold onto. Šimanský’s banjo cuts through the air, Vaľko’s hurdy-gurdy sounds like someone scraping a rusted sheet of metal with a handful of nails, and Podracký’s bass recorder hums like a slowly intensifying migraine. "Sine" is like a train journey through a barren wasteland, where the images outside the window constantly repeat like a bad trip. "Pro DJ" starts like a gig in a bar at the end of the line—a gig that never actually goes anywhere. It’s as if all three are locked in a spasm, their repeated motifs turning into haunting earworms. "Alien Radigue" shifts into a strange idyll in a clearing in the middle of the forest, where an unknown bird species trills in the background. The end and definitive dissolution come in "Slush", where everything suddenly slows down. Šimanský plucks a simple guitar melody, Podracký’s harmonica drifts from side to side like a boat gently rocking by the shore, and Vaľko’s hurdy-gurdy drones like a drunken mosquito buzzing around.

"K-drone" sounds like an acid anti-western movie recorded in a tucked-away burrow, like smoke-soaked folk and experimental campfire songs echoing through a deep forest. It evokes Third Ear Band's "Alchemy", it screeches and repeats like some of Henry Flynt's experiments, and you could easily imagine hearing it drifting from one of the windows on the cover of Hala Strana's eponymous album.

Jakub Šimanský is the bard of Czechoslovak guitar primitivism, an earthy folk sommelier whose fingerpicking you may also know from the duo Šimanský Niesner. Michal Vaľko, aka Line Gate, needs no introduction to fans. He has released three albums on mappa, and his hurdy-gurdy meditations hold an important place in the drone and minimalist music scene. "Den", "Apex", and "Trap" have become essential listening. Ján Podracký is a self-taught composer and musician whom you might know from various participatory music projects, such as an orchestra where all the players play diatonic harmonicas. Besides harmonicas, he has long explored a wide range of flutes. In short, a pied piper who will guide you through other worlds.

For nearly 30 years, SUNN O))) – Stephen O’Malley and Greg Anderson – have pushed the boundaries of heavy music, straddling the worlds of the avant-garde and rock to forge a style instantly recognisable as their own. Now, SUNN O))) return with their first album of new material since 2019’s acclaimed Pyroclasts. Their tenth album – their debut for Sub Pop – demonstrates the duo’s mastery of time and space, light and dark, and their willingness to evolve their unmistakable sound into bold new forms.

The eponymously titled SUNN O))) was tracked at Bear Creek Studios, Woodinville, Washington with Brad Wood (HuM, Tar, Sunny Day Real Estate, Liz Phair). This location proved crucial to the recording process. “The vast tracking room had big windows looking out on trees,” says O’Malley. “We could go hiking and be out in the woods, spend time outdoors. That became a big part of it.”

SUNN O))) have long welcomed collaborators into their self-contained world: past work has featured, Attila Csihar (Mayhem), composer Hildur Guðnadóttir, multi-instrumentalist Steve Moore, polymath Mark Deutrom, Silkworm’s Tim Midyett and legendary singer-songwriter Scott Walker. But on this album O’Malley and Anderson found fresh possibilities in the primal territory of the duo format, performing all the instrumentation themselves. “What’s been happening with our performances over the last couple years with the two of us and no other collaborators has been really fresh and exciting,” says Anderson.

The compositions on SUNN O))) are expansive and panoramic yet finely detailed, reflecting the arboreal setting in which they were recorded. Amidst howling feedback and glacial crunch, one finds surprisingly delicate moments: a field recording of water trickles beneath, piano interludes lend a hushed, solemn feel. All while the duo attains fresh heights of telepathic intensity as they shape music that breathes the bracing, earthy air of the Pacific Northwest.

Framing the album visually are two paintings by the late American artist Mark Rothko. Liner notes are by award-winning British writer Robert Macfarlane, famed for his works concerning landscape and the relationship between humanity and nature. Through the work of the band, Macfarlane, and Rothko, sound, word and visual combine into a fully immersive experience that is undeniably, completely SUNN O))).

Following the solid showing of global love and support for the collective Point Winona Sound Library Vol 1, LA’s Elbow Grease label runs it back with a sultry summer scene LP entry from one of the compilation’s most promising new talents.
Nashville-born/LA-bred Michael Griffin aka Gryph’s aptly-titled debut album Nash Angeles is a rare and refreshing example of true musical worlds colliding, that never loses focus of keeping the big fun in funky. The Tennessee-raised rock and blues guitarist/singer-songwriter’s newfound passion for dance music roots and devotion to the sonic feels of his current Cali home base are on full display here. Along with the studio-ace touches of co-producer Dave Aju and a cast of brilliant feature vocalists and live session musicians, the LP offers up only the most adventurous twists on contemporary genre fusion - from disco to dub, modern soul to post-punk, italo to r&b, and jazz-funk to classic house music, all while firing loved-up arrows straight through the hearts of any dance floors or fellow party animals, just in time for open-air bbq season
Already in heavy support rotation by legends such as: Glenn Underground, Francois K, Bill Brewster, Daniele Baldelli, Pete Herbert, Louise Chen, Graeme Park, Felix Joy, DJ Rocca, Massimiliano Pagliara, and many more..

Finnish jazz producer Valtteri Laurell reworks some of J Dilla’s most iconic beats into adventurous big band versions. With drummer/producer Teddy Rok (Teppo Mäkynen of Five Corners Quintet, Stance Bros. etc.), flutist extraordinaire Elena Pinderhughes and Laurell’s own 17-piece Ricky-Tick Big Band, he creates a big band album that you never thought you would hear. Using the sparse and visionary beats of J Dilla as a starting point, Laurell has composed and arranged material on top of the original versions, performed by Ricky-Tick Big Band. ”My original idea was to write very abstract big band moments, that would be like samples Dilla might have used in his work. During the process though, on some of the tracks I started to feel more of a Bob James or Henry Mancini vibe in the arrangements, so the end result is a hybrid of those worlds. Naturally, the spirit of Gil Evans and the later work of Duke Ellington is also floating in the air”. To create a strong connection with the original material, Laurell asked Dilla-aficionado and drummer/producer Teppo ”Teddy Rok” Mäkynen to work with him on the rhythmic side of the pieces. Teddy Rok also mixed the album. As a special guest star, flutist Elena Pinderhughes is featured on Won’t Do and Rico Suave Bossa Nova. Ricky-Tick Big Band, which Laurell founded in 2010 is also well on display here, with rising baritone sax star Linda Fredriksson featured on Beej-n-Dem and trumpetist Jukka Eskola featured on Y’All Ain’t Ready.

(*Previously unreleased)

Telling a tale of house music’s early days or roots without mentioning Tony Humphries as a club DJ, remixer and radio disc jockey would make it an incomplete, forged and most of all a bit of a yawn.
Born in Brooklyn in 1957, Humphries’ musical journey is synonymous with New York City’s dance music history and the evolution from uptempo soul music to house: from being a dancer at David Mancuso’s infamous Loft parties to becoming a mobile DJ and getting the call from Shep Pettibone to become his right hand at
the then new Kiss FM radio station, followed by countless remix offers and a legendary residency at Newark’s Club Zanzibar. Next to that one, is was especially his work as a radio disc jockey for said station during most of the 1980s until 1994 that gave him majestic clout. Breaking new records week in, week out,
putting New Jersey acts like Adeva and Jomanda or countless up-and-coming producers from there on the musical map, while simultaneously playing the hottest imports from Europe, trax from Chicago, dance classics and all things straight from New York’s music factory that never seemed to stop.
Going to his vast and almost complete archive of radio shows from way back when he graced those airwaves, we at Running Back Records have pickedNew Release Information original recordings that symbolize his importance as an industry giant and ambassador of this style of music.
„But one thing I would like to point out is that, as a DJ, the music I play is not my music. I want to make it perfectly clear that it is music that is released, and it’s everyone’s music. I do not take any other credit than being the middle person exposing this music.“
(Tony Humphries in: What Kind of House Party Is This?, Jonathan Fleming, 1996)

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

From Detroit’s techno resistance to Berlin’s elastic minimalism, Lusaka’s ancestral futurism to Chicago’s house communion, When There Is No Sun is a recording project, uniting visionary electronic music producers to reimagine the universe of Sun Ra. One of the most radical musical pioneers of the 20th century, Sun Ra used jazz, electronics, poetry, and performance to expand the possibilities of sound, identity, and imagination. Commissioned by Omni Sound and curated by Ricardo Villalobos, the series brings together Underground Resistance, Chez Damier & Ben Vedren, Calibre, A Guy Called Gerald, She Spells Doom, Barış K, and Ricardo Villalobos himself. Drawing from Omni Sound’s recordings of Living Sky by the Sun Ra Arkestra and My Words Are Music of Sun Ra’s poetry, the producers pull fragments of sound and text into their own creative orbits, passing through the portal that Sun Ra opened into a realm where the impossible is possible. Saul Williams, Tunde Adebimpe, Mahogany L. Browne, Abiodun Oyewole, Anthony Joseph and Tara Middleton are the featured voices that turn rhyme into rhythm and revelation into resistance Rooted in deep reverence for Sun Ra’s legacy, yet reaching forward as a living, generative force, When There Is No Sun is not a tribute but a continuum, balancing the pulse of electronic music with the spirit of experimentation, embodying Sun Ra’s promise that ‘there are other worlds’ if you are willing to see them.

Lucciole ist Silvia Tarozzis leuchtendes Nachfolgealbum zu den intimen Reflexionen von "Mi specchio e rifletto" und den tief verwurzelten Folk-Dialogen von "Canti di guerra, di lavoro e d'amore" mit Deborah Walker. Hier bringt Tarozzi Stimmen, Erinnerungen und musikalische Traditionen zusammen, um ein Album zu schaffen, auf dem avantgardistische Kompositionen, persönliche Erzählungen und kollektive Resonanz frei miteinander verschmelzen. Das Album beginnt mit einem strahlenden Blechbläserensemble, das wegen seines populären, feierlichen und spirituellen Klangs ausgewählt wurde, und endet mit dem Piccolo Coro Angelico, dem Kinderchor, mit dem sie seit über fünfzehn Jahren zusammenarbeitet und den sie als ,meine beste Kompositionsschule und ständige Quelle der Hoffnung" bezeichnet. Zwischen diesen beiden Eckpunkten zeichnen Tarozzis Lieder mit seltener Zärtlichkeit die Übergänge des Lebens nach: von der Kindheit zum Jugendalter, von Gesundheit zu Gebrechlichkeit, von Anwesenheit zu Abwesenheit. Die Streicher, Stimmen und melodischen Konturen, die "Mi specchio e rifletto" prägen, tauchen hier mit neuer Wärme und Tiefe wieder auf. Produziert von Tarozzi in enger Zusammenarbeit mit Marta Salogni, die das Album technisch umgesetzt und abgemischt hat, strahlt Lucciole eine Klarheit, Intimität und klangliche Großzügigkeit aus, die ihre gemeinsame Reise durch den Aufnahmeprozess widerspiegeln. Im Kern ist Lucciole ein Album über kleine Lichter, die durch Momente des Übergangs tragen - eine Einladung, genau hinzuhören auf die Orte, an denen sich das Leben verändert, und auf die Menschen, die leben und in Erinnerung bleiben und den Weg erhellen.

Hidden away amidst the bustle of Rio de Janeiro’s Catete neighbourhood is a small alleyway behind a cast iron gate. At its end is Bairro Saavedra, the courtyard surrounded by Neo-colonial houses where Brazilian guitar virtuoso Fabiano do Nascimento spent much of his childhood. Built in 1928, this secluded neighbourhood with its wooden shutters, tiled floors and tranquil benches, provides the inspiration for the title of Do Nascimento’s new album VILA, a collaborative project with a sixteen piece orchestra led by trombonist and arranger Vittor Santos.

Recorded between Rio de Janeiro and Los Angeles, VILA is grand, tender, warm, playful and nostalgic. On this stunningly ambitious work, the delicate compositions led by Nascimento's guitar, which sits central in the mix, are surrounded by Santos’ breathtaking orchestral arrangements which swirl in all directions: complimenting, questioning, responding; in constant conversation.

Like the eclecticism of the architecture Do Nascimento grew up surrounded by, his music straddles many worlds at once. He is known as a Brazilian acoustic guitar master and as such has collaborated with Arthur Verocai, Airto Moreira and Itibere Zwarg. But equally at home in Los Angeles's jazz and experimental music scenes, Do Nascimento is also known for his work with artists like Sam Gendel and Carlos Nino.

Vittor Santos is an arranger and Trombonist who has worked extensively with many of the greats of Brazilian music, including João Donato, Marcos Valle, Toninho Horta, and Elza Soares.

=====================================
Credits:

Fabiano do Nascimento – 6, 7 and soprano guitars.
All orchestral arrangements and production by Vitor Santos.
Recorded at Electro-Sound studio, Los Angeles and Estúdio Fibra, Rio de Janeiro
Engineered by Jason Hiller and Garbiel Lucchini
Mastered by Mike Bozzi

Oboe – Francisco Gonçalves
Contrabaixo – Rodrigo Villa
Drums – Márcio Bahia
Violino - Ricardo Amado
Violino – Thiago Teixeira
Violin – Daniel Albuquerque
Violin – Márcio Sanches
Viola – Ivan Zandonade
Viola – Dhyan Toffolo
Cello - Hugo Pilger
Cello – Janaína Salles
Double Bass – Rômulo Gomes
Clarinet – José Batista
French Horn – Philip Doyle
Trombones - Vittor Santos
Violin – Daniel Guedes

"deathcrash’s third album, Somersaults, glimmers with an everyday euphoria. The London-based slowcore/ post-rock quartet has always had an affinity for building worlds only to crush them. From their breakout EP, People thought my windows were stars (2021), through two critically acclaimed studio albums, Return (2022) and Less (2023), they have been both the architects and the destroyers, the creationists and the ones manning the flood barrier. But, recorded between Black Box Studio in the Loire Valley and Haggerston’s Holy Mountain, Somersaults is almost joyful.

Its ten tracks are more vocal heavy than any of the band’s catalogue – think Mark Linkous via The Kinks – but lyrically, Somersaults resists revelation. For all its abrasion, phrases appear half-swallowed, broken off at the edge of meaning, consumed by the smaller textures of living. “Thirty, no career, it fucking worries me / And doing the band doesn’t help,” Banks sings in ‘NYC’. But, “This life is the best life,” he finishes in ‘CMC’ on top of the ambient white noise of an office printer, thankful that the band is still there, “still making noise in the doorway.”

Their role as caretakers of Duster, Low and Codeine’s slowcore lineage is all across Somersaults – songs scud to a narcotic crawl, sound monolithic and inwards before spotlighting a crystalline nothing. Cathartic builds are muddied with tenderness, the bass a heavy grounding, the drums an exhausted heartbeat grasping for air. But more so than ever, even the silence feels collaborative – a gesture of communal trust – friends celebrating the room they’ve made for each other’s ghosts, and some of the biggest, brightest songs they’ve made to date."

From the opening notes – arriving as if in mid-air – to its final, cheerful burblings, Sean Mac Erlaine and Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh’s Old Segotia is an album about friendship: both musical and human, the product of two distinctive musicians visiting each other’s worlds with a sense of veneration, and a sense of joyful wonder.
Here, Mac Erlaine (This is How We Fly, Quiet Music Ensemble) and Ó Raghallaigh (The Gloaming, This is How We Fly) meet on common ground developed over 20 years of playing together, with Mac Erlaine’s musical language rooted in jazz and sonic experimentation, and Ó Raghallaigh emerging from an Irish traditional music that he has shaped and reshaped in a deeply personal way.
In this place, Mac Erlaine and Ó Raghallaigh’s music is profoundly integrated and emotionally textured: at times bursting with explosive energy, at times almost sighing into life, but always searching. Here are the touching unison duets of ‘Cantandor’, the lyrical wanderings of ‘Swallow Dive’, or the flirtations with finding a groove in ‘Reverse Burst’.
The palette of instruments speaks to the album’s feeling of abundance, with Mac Erlaine performing on clarinets, chalumeau d’amore, three different flutes, car hooter, percussion, live electronics, Wurlitzer, synthesiser, vocals and alto saxophone; and with Ó Raghallaigh bringing his signature hardanger d’amore sound plus a turn on the flute and live electronics, too.
With the title echoing a well-worn Dublinese expression for “friend”, Old Segotia plays out with ‘Oiche Crua Sna Sleibhte’ (A Hard Night in the Mountains), with ornithologist Seán Ronayne’s field recordings of birdsong rising out of the musicians’ playful explorations, offering a taste of life echoing music, echoing life.

Good ambient will always been a comfort blanket during harsh times. Whether from a global or more personal perspective. This collection on Secrets of Sound brings together some real dons of the genre, from Mark Barrott - to Steve Roach, and sequences them into one soothing, calming trip that touches son all different sub-sound and styles from New Age to celestial. A spoken word intro from long-running ambient radio Jaroslav Kovaracek sets the scene before you're then cast adrift in supreme sonic lushness.

With effortless cool, Moriah Plaza blend Brazilian samba, cinematic Latin jazz and psychedelic 60s pop on new EP "Propolis". Moriah Plaza"s self-titled debut album, released on Batov Records in 2023, garnered critical acclaim and widespread airplay, positioning the group as one to watch in the worlds of global pop and contemporary jazz.

Young Gun Silver Fox are the captains of AM Waves, setting sail towards an isle where melodies soak the shoreline and grooves sway like palm trees. Their route traces a natural progression fromWest End Coast, an album that cast Andy Platts (Young Gun) and Shawn Lee (Silver Fox) as musical virtuosos of SoCal-infused pop. AM Waves does more than duplicate the perfection of West End Coast. It improves it.

Recorded at The Shop in London and Roffey Hall in the English countryside, AM Waves burnishes the blend between the duo's modern aesthetic and their sumptuously crafted homage to '70s-styled pop, rock, and soul. "This music hits a certain spot for me personally that nothing else quite does," says Shawn, who produced the album amidst his projects for Saint Etienne, Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra, and several other acts. "It's real high-caliber music. It's easy and breezy to listen to but it's really hard to make. Every aspect is A game."

The A game behind AM Waves fuels 43 minutes of Young Gun Silver Fox in peak form. "AM Waves is much more instinctive," says Andy, whose penchant for writing irresistible hooks and melodies also shapes his role as lead singer and lyricist/composer for the band Mamas Gun. "It's more vivid. You can see the clarity to the colors of AM Waves whereas West End Coast is slightly more impressionist, as it were."

Originally issued as a single in September 2017, "Midnight in Richmond" is the anchor of AM Waves. "I hit one chord, which I'd never played before, and the song sort of wrote itself," notes Shawn. "It was intuitive. In many ways, the primary function of what I'm doing is trying to find that chord that opens a door and takes you someplace else. Those chords have magic." Andy embellishes the song's appeal by nimbly juxtaposing wistful emotions with a sun-kissed melody, his voice evoking richly drawn memories. The qualities that make "Midnight in Richmond" an instant classic abound throughout the album.

"Lenny" and "Take It or Leave It" spotlight Andy's versatility as a songwriter. The former was inspired by a dream he had where Lenny Kravitz owned a bar. "It was surreal," he says. "He was polishing the glasses and just serving me hit after hit." Like swimming through moonshine, Andy languorously savors every syllable in the song. "Take It or Leave It" is pure pop bliss. "That was one of those songs that fell out in half an hour," he says. "I had everything and it was done." Shawn adds, "It's such a perfect song in itself. When I listen to it, it's like you've created a record that already existed."

Young Gun Silver Fox introduce a five-piece horn section on "Underdog" that literally trumpets the song's protagonist. Shawn affectionately dubbed them the "Seaweed Horns" in honor of the Seawind Horns, an LA-based unit that recorded with powerhouses like Michael Jackson,Rufus & Chaka Khan,and Earth, Wind & Fire during the late-'70s. Andy explains, "The horns grab another hue of the west coast sound, which is the starting point, but it's also maybe the point where we're injecting a little bit more of ourselves and some outside colors into the familiar west coast palette."

A bounty of treasures course through AM Waves' ebb and flow. "Mojo Rising," which the duo penned with Rob Johnson, is a veritable retreat to paradise. "Sky-bound, heaven sent / Way above the clouds watching shootingstars descend," Andy sings, mirroring the music's celestial undertones. Sensuality contours the notes on "Just a Man," a song that basks in the allure of a woman who leaves "footprints on the water" while "Love Guarantee" is festooned with the Seaweed Horns. "I wanted to bring more of that R&B slickness into the mix," Shawn notes about the latter track. "We hadn't done a tune with that sort of groove." Similar to his work on "Underdog," Nichol Thomson's intricate horn arrangement on "LoveGuarantee"exemplifies another distinction between AM Waves and its predecessor.

"Caroline" occupies a special place on AM Waves, beyond spawning the album title. It tells the story of Radio Caroline, a pirate radio station that broadcast from an offshore vessel during the '60s and '70s. "They played the music that kids wanted to hear, whether it was the old stuff or cutting edge stuff," says Andy. "'Caroline' is about Radio Caroline's eventual capture." Complementing Andy Platts' deft wordplay, which draws parallels between radio airwaves and the station's literal home on the ocean, Shawn Lee layers nearly a dozen different parts on "Caroline," showcasing the vastness of his musicality. "I loved that track as soon as I heard it," Andy continues. "It's a beautiful fusion of me and Shawn."

The Seaweed Horns joinYoung Gun Silver Foxas they detour to the dance floor on "Kingston Boogie." Shawn explains the track's genesis, "I was thinking, what have we not done yet We definitely should get an AOR disco thing happening. I quite like disco. The beat is so metronomic that it allows you to be really sophisticated on top. 'Kingston Boogie' just laid itself out. I call it 'midnight disco.'" With a nod to "Lenny," Andy Platts sets "Kingston Boogie" back at Lenny's Bar, this time revealing a detail or two about its mysterious proprietor as he pours sweet wine and moonshine.

In a sense, AM Waves ends with the beginning. Even before there was Young Gun Silver Fox, there was "Lolita," the first song Andy Platts and Shawn Lee wrote together and a crowd-pleasing staple of the duo's live sets. The tale of a femme fatale who harbors a secret was recorded for West End Coast but instead furnished the B-side to "Long Way Back" as well as a bonus track on the North American edition of the album. Despite the song's checkered trajectory, its infectious chorus sparked the brighter, more buoyant orientation of AM Waves.

Like the moon pulling the tide, Young Gun Silver Fox are a magnet for good songs. "We're both so obsessed and constantly interested in music-making," says Andy. "We're both thinking about it all the time. When you know you have an accomplice with you that's the same as you, it's very liberating. Suddenly, worlds of color start to appear." Indeed, AM Waves is elemental in its power to induce pleasure. Dive right in.

Christian John Wikane

(New York City / February 2018)

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…

The Gold is inspired by the true story and theories of the 1983 Brink’s-Mat robbery, which saw
the theft of £26 million worth of gold bullion, and the decades-long chain of events that followed. First aired in February 2023, the first series of The Gold garnered 8.7 million viewers for the first episode and was nominated for a BAFTA. Series Two is inspired by theories around what happened to the other half of the gold.

Simon Goff’s work sits at the intersection of contemporary classical, electronic, and cinematic
music. His albums Vale and Spark Like Living Mothers have received critical acclaim for their immersive, textural soundscapes and compositional depth. He has also worked with some of the world’s most acclaimed musicians as a collaborator and sound engineer on Joker and Chernobyl - both of which earned him Grammy Awards.

“In series one of The Gold, the score developed around using the sound pallets of strings and electronics, acting themselves as characters in the narrative. The subject of class permeates the whole story and we used these sound worlds to represent two worlds, divided at first but becoming more and more intertwined as the series progressed. The ways in which the worlds have collided and merged in series two is even more complex. The tension is even higher and the neurosis that torments the characters runs deeper.” Simon Goff

Black Vinyl LP. The world has changed, we shouldn't try and pretend otherwise. While we were shut away in isolation our routines shifted, social patterns evolved, and our hopes and dreams were twisted into cobwebs we're still trying to wipe from our fingers. Ziúr tentatively approached this on her last album Antifate, an ambitious and complex hybrid pop fever dream that looked back to a Medieval escapist fantasy as the scent of revolution seemed to hum in the air. But when restrictions were eased, she found herself staring down a discombobulated society that had trapped itself in a spiral of microwaved nostalgia and detached, narcotic repetition. Eyeroll then is Ziúr's musical panacea, a tincture to wake us from our creative slumber and prompt external connection and reflection. It's a polyphonous hex that demands human interaction, and Ziúr's hand-picked alliance of collaborators - Elvin Brandhi, Abdullah Miniawy, Iceboy Violet, Juliana Huxtable, Ledef, and James Ginzburg - each provide distinct voices that together herald a bewildering sonic epoch. Ziúr's palette had to evolve to match the scope of the project, but it was pure necessity that informed the album's defining tone. Recording mostly at night, Ziúr was conscious of the noise she was making so developed a unique way to record organic percussion. Using a set of rototoms - low profile tunable drums - she scratched, scraped and gently tapped the skins to build up the undulating and unstable rhythmic backdrop for each track. It's the first sound we hear on the opener 'Eyeroll', rattling like lost marbles against Elvin Brandhi's primal croaks and screams. And when Brandhi's twisted articulations form words, Ziúr matches the energy with chaotic thuds and serrated blasts of saturated electronics. "I roll the shittiest cigarette," she squeals like she's about to start a mosh pit at Paris's GRM Studios. Without pause, Abdullah Miniawy takes over on 'Malikan', building on the promise of material with Simo Cell, Carl Gari and HVAD with corrosive trumpet blasts and charged, politically incendiary Arabic vocals. Inspired by pre-Islamic poetry and the Qu'ranic chanters he heard growing up in Saudi Arabia and Egypt, he spins labyrinthine stories that cross between the worlds, breaking down physical and spiritual borders simultaneously. Miniawy's scope is expanded even further on his second collaboration, 'If The City Burns I Will Not Run'. "If it rains and the city drowns," he utters over gaseous electronics, "I will not run away, but I will be anxious for the heart of one close to me." After a supple vocal turn from Manchester's Iceboy Violet on 'Move On' and a surreal interlude from poet- DJ-artist-theorist Juliana Huxtable on '99 Favor Taste', Brandhi returns with two more hyperactive collaborations: ,'Nontrivial Differential' and 'Cut Cut Quote'. On the former she slices into Ziúr's skeletal jazz eruptions, screaming and crooning interchangeably, fluxing between the rap battle and the cabaret. The latter is completely different meanwhile, with Brandhi settling into her role as front-woman and groaning dizzying improvised passages that sound like grunge crossed with psychedelic no-wave. Brandhi's spiky musical history has prepared her well for this collaboration; she's a prolific producer and has been using her voice spontaneously since debuting with father-daughter improv duo Yeah You in the mid 2020s. She's found an ideal foil in Ziúr, a producer who matches her restless energy and willingness to bend formality, and leaves an indelible mark on Eyeroll. But the album's most tender moments are from Ziúr herself, who winds the album down on 'Hasty Revisionism', growling over collapsible beats and cascading strings, and comes to an unexpected conclusion with country coda 'Lacrymaturity'. Its feverish amalgamation of country music and euphoric, experimental electronics might seem incongruous at first, but in context with the rest of the album is the only possible conclusion. With Eyeroll Ziúr is making a firm statement about togetherness, humanity, and the renewal of hope when all seems lost. By bringing together such a wide but philosophically harmonic team of collaborators, she's conducted a body of work that speaks to the creative fringe in no uncertain terms. Now's the time to throw away what you think you know, and build bridges you didn't think you need. Now's the time for action. She may have spent her entire career avoiding the solipsistic trappings of "queer art", but by assembling a communal statement that questions so many normative assumptions about music, politics, and beyond, Ziúr has chanced upon her queerest album yet. Cringe? Eyeroll.

Domenique Dumont’s fourth album, Deux Paradis, arrives like the three that came before it – with an air of mystery and wonder. This is dance music for inner worlds – rituals, revelations and reveries.
Deux Paradis is a ten-track song cycle that leads the listener through the rhythm of a day, the bloom and fade of a relationship, or even the stages of a life.

It begins with a song about waking up – the candy-striped dub of “Enchantia” – and traces the sun’s arc with the pixelated reggae of “La Vie Va” and the sensuous rush of “Amants Ennemis”. As night falls, the songs take on a twilight quality in the
shimmering pop of “The Order of Invisible Things” and the seductive pulse of “Visages Visages” (a subtle nod to the Desireless classic). There’s also the baroque swoon of “Deux Paradis” and the soft exotica of “Visiteur de la Nuit”. Bolder and richer than before, it’s vintage Domenique Dumont – timeless and romantic, yet laced with an unplaceable sense of longing, like in an Éric Rohmer film. After the instrumental film score People On Sunday (Leaf, 2020) – composed solo by Arturs Liepins – singer Anete Stuce returns to Domenique Dumont, bringing her inimitable joie de vivre. Deux Paradis completes a trilogy of releases alongside Comme Ça (2015) and Miniatures De Auto Rhythm (2018) on the Antinote label.

Deux Paradis was composed, arranged and between 2022 and the end of 2024 in studios in Riga and Paris, and on the Estonian island of Hiiumaa.

Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 is the first ever archival release from Repetition Repetition, the “two-man electric minimalist band” consisting of Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton hailing from Los Angeles in the mid 1980’s. Repetition Repetition’s unique blend of cosmic art-rock minimalism / maximalism was self-released across a series of cassettes produced in micro editions, and while garnering the attention and participation of luminaries such as Harold Budd, remained under the radar during the band’s existence. Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 collects select material from across the duo’s catalog.

It was over a plate of Mexican breakfast food when Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton first told Harold Budd of Repetition Repetition and the worlds they intended to explore by respective way of synthesizers and guitars --- a rendezvous instigated by the former’s fan mail to the legendary composer. If the upstarts entered this restaurant from a one-way street of admiration, they would leave with not only Budd’s interest but, sometime later, a blessing in the wake of many hours shared by the three in Garcia’s Los Angeles home recording studio: “This is going to be difficult, but God help them, I think they’re great,” noted Budd in a USC lecture in 1985. Now several degrees removed from prior rock music aspirations, the real game was afoot.

Between 1984 and 1988, Repetition Repetition operated within something akin to the underground of the experimental underground, although even that designation perhaps overstates the case. The duo’s sparse output consisted of three cassettes self-released on Garcia’s Third Stone Music label: Repetition Repetition (1985), Lakeland (1987), and The Machinist (1987). Their songs would also be included during this period on Trance Port Tapes’ vital scene-scanning compilations assembled by A Produce. Live performances occurred with similar infrequency, but Garcia and Caton counted converts in quality over quantity, numbering among them the aforementioned Budd, a Chambers Brother, and, judging by a memorably drop-jawed reaction following a rare Repetition Repetition gig, Jackson Browne.

Likewise, critical support materialized in the form of KCRW deejays Brent Wilcox and Dean Suzuki, whose steady airplay positioned Repetition Repetition’s music amidst fearless company like Jon Hassell, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Richard Horowitz. Yet, to hear fellow Trance Port featured players like Tom Recchion and Bruce Licher of Savage Republic tell it, Garcia and Caton moved as ghosts --- a notion more vexingly endorsed by the silence of record companies that failed to come knocking --- and therein lies an overarching truth to the work itself.

Journey to the heart of Repetition Repetition and one discovers a collective ear impossibly attuned to the hypnotic possibilities of stylistic convergence, the resulting music possessed of seamless multimodalities which beckon to a glimmering plane of the disembodied. Where Caton sought his artistic fixes at an intersection of popular genres, Garcia zoned in on the sonically spare, drawing from the same wellspring as the Enos and Rileys of his personal avant-garde pantheon, and in their coming together the two tapped into a deeper cosmic source. Synthetic walls of keyboard sound in forever states of reprise met waves of shimmering --- and at times even punishing --- guitar in reply, their soundscapes hovering convincingly between, as suggested in fittingly dualistic fashion in a press kit assembled by Garcia, such disparate sensations as bird flight in one song and oil drilling in the next.

But don’t call it a push-pull dynamic, as this was a creative partnership founded upon fluidity and organicism by way of, naturally, repetition. In contrast to, say, the Bressonian ideal of repetitive motion as a great stripping away, the concept in the hands of Garcia and Caton equated to ascendancy via continuous unfolding, a maximal route to minimalism. To be sure, their recording philosophy morphed over the course of the act’s short history, and what started as a process defined by consistent in-person interplay developed into a more isolated method formulated by Garcia, who eventually took to his own one-man bedroom-studio sessions in order to fully chart any and all potential ostinato-loaded paths which he could travel down, the Tascam-captured resonances subsequently provided to Caton as blueprints from which to take flight himself, adding layer upon layer of steel to the proceedings.

If the practice and execution changed, however, the evidence certainly didn’t rest in the results: The seamlessness remained, and, despite the brevity of their time together, so has Repetition Repetition. With this finely calibrated collection of songs in Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987, Freedom To Spend sees to it that the private worlds of Garcia and Caton can now be visited by all rather than just the count-‘em-on-both-hands lucky few whose musical endeavors or collector vocations carried them into this once-distant dimension.

Repetition Repetition’s Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 will be released on Freedom To Spend in vinyl and digital editions on May 30, 2025. The collection includes extensive liner notes from Bill Perrine, and wil be offered alongside Over & Over, a supplemental collection of music available exclusively as a mail order cassette from Freedom To Spend and RVNG Intl.

On Katelyn Clark and Mitch Renaud's »Ouroboros,« astronomical and astrological phenomena, concepts and symbols such as the Great Year or the Eternal Return serve as the starting points for sonic explorations and experimentations. Focusing on a uniquely tempered range of frequencies, from low-enddrone rumbles to airy pipe swirls, the duo develops a minimalist and highly evocative sonic universe on their debut album for Hallow Ground.

Working as composers, improvisers and curators in Canada's vibrant experimental and early music scenes, Clark and Renaud began developing »Ouroboros« through extensive improvisation with a reduced setup. Clark, who has worked extensively with historical keyboards since her studies in Amsterdam and Siena, played a small pipe organ modeled after a 14th-century instrument while Renaud brought a modular synthesizer and his interest in feedback systems to the collaboration. Later, the duo further refined their artistic dialog and the sonic interactions of the two instruments through the shared space of a two day recording session in Vancouver. Subtle crackling, acoustic beating and other (psycho-)acoustic effects in five pieces document this encounter, giving the music a profound physicality while hinting at the bodily presence of the two collaborators.

Just as the cyclicality of natural phenomena or the repetition of planetary movements is both a scientific fact and of the cultural imaginary, the sound worlds of »Ouroboros« are fundamentally rooted in time and space while transgressing the idea of a »here and now« through their conceptual links to geological and planetary time. The interplay of portative organ and modular synthesizer, which merge fluidly and in ever-changing ways, leads to a kind of circularity, a timelessness, a no-time. At the same time, the movements and subtle changes undermine the idea of repetition in the negative sense. After all, the Eternal Return, as Gilles Deleuze writes in regard to Nietzsche, is not the return of the same but a repetition of repetition. The only constant is change, the production of new intensities, of new forms of life – and of new frequencies.

Electronic music at its best offers a tantalising glimpse of the future, capturing the moment of conception where new worlds and genres are brought into being. Amsterdam-via-Berlin label Q1E2 (standing for “quality first, ego second”) embodies this expansive promise on their new various-artists compilation, a thrilling speed-run through the cosmic outer-reaches of contemporary club sounds that highlights the work of essential emerging producers from around the globe.

Milan producer Jack Bags opens the proceedings with “Natural Thing”, an astral deep-dance immersion with zero-gravity synthesizer pads and skeletal dub percussion that echo out through the void, sensuous vocal samples arriving like scattered transmissions from the stereo of some long-lost spacecraft. datSIM’s “Influx” races through kaleidoscopic sci-fi spacescapes, presenting a futuristic reimagining of UK bass sounds with dextrous organ melodics and widescreen atmospherics. Mike Riviera and Marco Ohboy bring us back down for a more earthly kind of ecstatic experience, cranking up the humidity and coaxing out the endorphins with the appropriately-titled “Euphoria” - a rugged, rave-adjacent heater that cleverly rearranges elements of classic house and garage into a decidedly modern club workout.

Elsewhere there’s a distinctive undercurrent of jazz flowing through the compilation, mapping out thrilling new evolutions of the music on and off the dancefloor. Dr Sud’s mesmeric rhythm excursion “Zaffiro” unfurls like the coils of a cosmic serpent, tessellating percussion and slinking subs tracing intricate beat geometries. A Soft Mist Production’s “Upside Down Rainbows” settles in for the afters with smoked-out soulful atmospherics, syrupy vocals curling and turning in the air like smoke vapors from the last vestiges of a still-lit cigarette. The Rabbit Hole’s “Tail Groove” closes out the proceedings with a surprising bait-and-switch - opening on lustrous lounge piano that could have been comped straight from a Bill Evans record, the track quickly gives way to interstellar bass ‘n’ breaks. The producer’s canny use of cello licks adds a grounded, organic feel, jazz futurism that recalls Photek or LTJ Bukem’s sampling experiments.

Taken together, the label’s new compilation provides a snapshot of a scene in constant evolution, taking the temperature of the modern electronic scene and finding it to be in rude health.

Written by Matthew Fidler

Another foggy day in Yorkshire. A steel grey sky. Raindrops tracing one another down the windowpane. Kirk Barley sits in his studio and assembles compositions from scraps of found sound and live instrumentation. Melodies swell, withdraw and repeat like waves. Time slows. Accelerates. Slows again. The light bends, tweaked at the edges. Twisted by rhythms that never quite resolve.

Written, recorded and produced by Barley in Yorkshire in early 2024, Lux picks up where 2023 LP Marionette leaves off, conjuring a mystical, reflective space between formal minimalism and sonic imaginaries of northern landscapes.

And yet, where Marionette relied at times on more recognisable field recordings, Lux leans into Barley’s skill as an instrumentalist and sound designer, working from a palette of short samples and utilising a variety of alternate tuning systems to build, layer and coax his compositions into being. Most evident on tracks ‘Vita’, ‘Sprite’ and ‘Descendent’, these tunings create an otherworldly harmonic language that is easier to perceive than describe.

Alongside more familiar instruments of guitar, bass, drums, organ and clarinet, here Barley draws on plastic saxophones and bells, and recordings of glass, wood and metal sound objects to provide the organic matter. Rather than directly representative of the natural world, Lux enters into a dialogue with it which, like the grasses and flowers of the album’s cover, exists somewhere between reality and artifice.

On album opener ‘Cache’, Barley constructs his own sense of time from a recording of an umbrella crank, a sparse and spectral piece which hints at memories embedded in the track’s title. Introspection blossoms into new life on ‘Vita’, crumpling again into the percussive ambience of ‘Verre’. A track that takes its harmonic lead from the clinks of glass, it features Barley’s long-time collaborator Matt Davies on drums, whose nuanced, tonally sensitive playing gives ‘Verre’ a fizzing, ice-like quality.

There are several moments where Lux picks up on themes Barley explored under electronic moniker Church Andrews on recent works with Davies, stretching and distorting temporalities most explicitly on ‘Descendent’, whose ritualistic air unfurls around a pattern in exponential decline.

Embracing the surrealism Barley absorbed over years watching classic film noir and the works of David Lynch and Federico Fellini, Lux wends its way through the enchanted sound worlds of ‘Sprite’ and ‘Balanced’ before arriving at the album’s title track.

An expression of his recent experiments in live, prepared guitar, ‘Lux’ brings the album back to earth, returning us to the room where the rain has stopped, the clouds have parted, and the soft warmth of the spring sun is pouring in through the open window.