Suche:year of no light

Haunting, discordant and deeply unsettling, `Les Maîtres Fous' (`The Mad Masters') was written by French post-metal collective Year of No Light in response to French filmmaker Jean Rouch's controversial 1950's docufiction of the same name. Commissioned by Musée Du Quai Branly in Paris for their 2012 `L'Invention Du Sauvage' exhibition, trance-metal pioneers Year of No Light approached the ritual practices of the Hauka movement as depicted in the film and responded with their uniquely hypnotic heaviness. Performed only twice, once at the exhibition on the 6th January, 2012 and again in Bordeaux on the 29th January, 2015; this release is a live recording of the second and final performance of `Les Maîtres Fous'. Whilst Year of No Light have a long history of collaboration with forward-thinking filmmakers and visual artists, the sensitivity of this documentary's problematic subject matter and the intensity of the band's performance made this performance both a physically and emotionally demanding experience; something that can be keenly felt upon listening. Founded in September 2001 by a collection of Bordeaux's heavy scene stalwarts as an ongoing side project encompassing elements of sludge metal and shoegaze, Year of No Light released their debut album, Nord, in 2006 to critical acclaim. The subsequent years however saw a significant lineup change with the band replacing their vocalist with a third guitarist to become a fully instrumental sextet incorporating aspects of black metal, drone electronica and dark ambient into their already formidable sound. 2010's four track epic Ausserwelt and the 2013 follow up Tocsin saw Year of No Light distilling their punishing sound even further; stalling the tempo to a glacial crawl and tuning guitars ever downwards to new uncharted depths. Consolamentum, the band's first full-length release in nine years and their first with Pelagic Records, brought the outfit's crushing double-drumming percussion to the fore as a masterclass in dynamic control saw Year of No Light embrace the highest highs and the lowest lows of the intervening years. Now approaching their 25th anniversary, `Les Maître Fous' is a pressing reminder that, despite the band's long and ongoing journey, Year of No Light have never been afraid to experiment, to take risks, to square up to life's ugliness and look it straight in the eye. FOR FANS OF Neurosis, Cult of Luna, SWANS, ISIS, Russian Circles, My Bloody Valentine, Chelsea Wolfe. The Dim Gleam edition is kind of a beige vinyl colour

Haunting, discordant and deeply unsettling, `Les Maîtres Fous' (`The Mad Masters') was written by French post-metal collective Year of No Light in response to French filmmaker Jean Rouch's controversial 1950's docufiction of the same name. Commissioned by Musée Du Quai Branly in Paris for their 2012 `L'Invention Du Sauvage' exhibition, trance-metal pioneers Year of No Light approached the ritual practices of the Hauka movement as depicted in the film and responded with their uniquely hypnotic heaviness. Performed only twice, once at the exhibition on the 6th January, 2012 and again in Bordeaux on the 29th January, 2015; this release is a live recording of the second and final performance of `Les Maîtres Fous'. Whilst Year of No Light have a long history of collaboration with forward-thinking filmmakers and visual artists, the sensitivity of this documentary's problematic subject matter and the intensity of the band's performance made this performance both a physically and emotionally demanding experience; something that can be keenly felt upon listening. Founded in September 2001 by a collection of Bordeaux's heavy scene stalwarts as an ongoing side project encompassing elements of sludge metal and shoegaze, Year of No Light released their debut album, Nord, in 2006 to critical acclaim. The subsequent years however saw a significant lineup change with the band replacing their vocalist with a third guitarist to become a fully instrumental sextet incorporating aspects of black metal, drone electronica and dark ambient into their already formidable sound. 2010's four track epic Ausserwelt and the 2013 follow up Tocsin saw Year of No Light distilling their punishing sound even further; stalling the tempo to a glacial crawl and tuning guitars ever downwards to new uncharted depths. Consolamentum, the band's first full-length release in nine years and their first with Pelagic Records, brought the outfit's crushing double-drumming percussion to the fore as a masterclass in dynamic control saw Year of No Light embrace the highest highs and the lowest lows of the intervening years. Now approaching their 25th anniversary, `Les Maître Fous' is a pressing reminder that, despite the band's long and ongoing journey, Year of No Light have never been afraid to experiment, to take risks, to square up to life's ugliness and look it straight in the eye. FOR FANS OF Neurosis, Cult of Luna, SWANS, ISIS, Russian Circles, My Bloody Valentine, Chelsea Wolfe

Transparent Red Single Colour Vinyl Edition! YEAR OF NO LIGHT`s lengthy, sprawling compositions of towering walls of guitars and sombre synths irradiate a sense of dire solemnity and spiritual gravity, and couldn't be a more fitting soundtrack for such grim medieval scenarios. But there is also the element of absolution, regeneration, elevation, transcendence in the face of death. Consolamentum is dense, rich and lush and yet somehow feels starved and deprived. With debut album Nord (2006) and sophomore release Ausserwelt (2010), the band made themselves a name in the European avant-metal scene. Extensive tours of Europe, North America and Russia in 2013 and 2014, including two appearances at Roadburn festival, Hellfest and a spectacular performance in a 17th Century fortress in the Carpathian mountains introduced them to a broader and quickly growing international audience. The cinematic scope of their music implies that YEAR OF NO LIGHT are a group of artists that pay a great deal of attention to their visual representation, from the classy album artworks and merch designs to the carefully designed lighting design of their live show. With their seminal 3rd album Tocsin, released in 2013, YEAR OF NO LIGHT reached the peak of their career thus far - a logical decision that Consolamentum was made with the same team again: recorded and mixed by Cyrille Gachet at Cryogene in Begles / Bordeaux, mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side. "We wanted this album to sound as organic and analog as possible", comments the band. "All tracks were recorded live. The goal was to have the most natural, warm and clean takes possible, to give volume to the dynamics of the songs. We aimed to have a production with a singular personality." Consolamentum is huge, poignant, frightening, sublime, smothering and cathartic - and, much like its predecessor, "audacious, memorable and supremely confident." (Decibel magazine).

Across the cosmic boundaries via spiritual exploration and in the void between shimmer and shadow you will find the astral soundscapes of Birds Of Pandaemonium...

Emerging from Brooklyn's late-night music ecosystem, 'Hazy James' Armstrong and Tim Wagner met nearly 20 years ago through the city's DJ and club scene. Each with different but complementary musical backgrounds which included a mix of folk, guitar, DJing, synths, drum machines, country rock, disco, jazz, and rhythm-heavy club music (being just a few!), the duo began various musical endeavours together & "exploring the darkness while pursuing light" which eventually lead to the birth of Birds Of Pandaemonium.

It was only a matter of time that the stars aligned (via an introduction from Shane Watson of Causeway) to bring the Birds onto the musical radar at Sprechen which led to the release of 3 renowned E.Ps and ultimately, their debut album, Eudaemonia. Obscure covers including Idris Muhammed's Loft classic 'Could Heaven Ever Be Like This', the rave defining Born Slippy by Underworld and the post punk/new wave 'On Islands' by New Musik sit alongside original songs shaped by fresh reflections on life, grief, and love with elements of dream pop, shoe-gaze & gothic pop to give wistful and pulse-driven listening experience that is hazy, romantic, and deliberately genre-blurring.

A truly unique listening experience that delivers broad strokes of sunsetting psychedelia and bleary-eyed optimistic, astral dream-pop across all 8 tracks.

Is it balearic? Not really, it's pretty much a genre all on its own (answers on a postcard).

'Museum Of No Art is the pseudonym of the artist and musician Mona Steinwidder. The pieces on the album A Serpent Called Emit document a two-year engagement with the clarinet and other woodwind instruments. In the search for simplicity, one encounters complexity. But the Museum discovers connections between the poles and lets them circle around each other. Impurities have found their place in it and hard cuts are intended to underline the volatility of the moment, to highlight and admire imperfection.'

Gnod's now twenty year journey through spiritual and audial exploration has been driven by relentless curiosity, magpie irreverence and a fierce countercultural imperative, their project has always refused to acknowledge all or any rules and boundaries, internal or external. The latest adventure of this band may never have been intended to celebrate their two-decade anniversary, but in true Gnod fashion by, what began as a trip into a residential studio setup in Hellfire Studios with producer John `Spud' Murphy (Lankum, Black MIDI, Caroline) for six days, resulted in more potent material than anyone bargained for. The end result has been three studio albums to be released over the next year. "This trilogy revealed itself to us in the studio" says Paddy. "We were hoping to get a good album out of the session and lo and behold we got three of the fuckers. It's interesting that we did pretty much capture the full spectrum of the Gnod sound across all three". In fact, this intrepid first instalment of the `Chronicles Of Gnowt' trilogy covers an alarming amount of sonic territory all on its own. Driven as always by the power of repetition as well as Gnod's alchemical marriage of the maximal and the minimal, this album is imbued with a vivid focus that's testimony to the chemistry of the sessions, coupled with a detailed and spacious production from Murphy that brings out the psychedelic sound worlds of the band in vivid colour. This is a travelogue which delves into pastoral tranquillity (as on `Three Trees Parts 1&2') just as adeptly as expansive Earth-tinged riff monoliths (`All Tunnel No Light') and just as formidably as the closing epic `Ekstasis' - a hallucinatory vista where kraut-tinged experimentalism meets Swans-style intensity. Yet all the while, truly sounding like no one but Gnod.

The Bratislava-based band 52 Hertz Whale release their new album Present Sense Impression in a collaboration of the labels Weltschmerzen and Full Moon Forum.

Three years since their album I've Met a Lot of People, the band brings forth a lot of new ideas, finding a new resonant space, and utilising the fierceness // savageness of their live shows, in an intimate stare at contemporary guitar music.

52 Hertz Whale is a band well known in the Central European music context. Their ferocious sound, mixing the intensity of post-punk, heavy guitar wails, and melancholic // stark vocals of Dominik Prok has been tearing down the fixtures of many festivals and venues, all the while being a great example of a band driving at 200mph nonstop. On Present Sense Impression, the band, composed of Dominik Prok, Dominik Fabian, Patrik Nagy, Tomáš Tabiš and Adrián Krišák, have arrived at a record full of manifold manifestations of their live sound, but at times recalling the more marginal waves of 80s pop // rock sound. Resolute drums, heavyweight guitar and bass riffs now deem closer to the lightness of early ethereal darkwave, just to indulge in the classic melancholic heaviness they are known for only seconds after.

Some of the songs have been produced by "Prague's favorite rock'n'roll enfant terrible" Lazer Viking as well as Pulp Studio's Jakub Hríbik, and one features a special guest - the cemballo virtuoso Marcel Comendant. The traditionally stunning artwork was created by the accomplished Martin Mesaroš.

Present Sense Impression is the 20th album released under the Slovak romantic // experimental label Weltschmerzen focused on emotionally hypercharged, humanely intertwined, and acutely sounding contemporary music. This time in collaboration with the czech label Full Moon Forum. It releases August 26th on limited edition baby pink, standard edition black vinyl and on all streaming platforms.

The creation and release of this record have been supported using public funding by the Slovak Arts Council, and SOZA. Fullmoon Forum project was supported by the Ministry of Culture of the Czech Republic.

FUNKSOULSEX is the debut album by London-based Liv East and the culmination of years spent refining a sound entirely her own. Blending R&B, funk, neo-soul and contemporary electronic influences, the album explores love, desire, intimacy, lust and connection in the modern age through smoky grooves, sensual vocals and vintage-inspired production. Featuring production from Brighton duo AMIcity and incorporating vintage equipment & textures, FUNKSOULSEX bridges timeless influences with a fresh, forward-thinking perspective, creating a sound that feels both nostalgic and unmistakably modern.

Hailing from Athens, Georgia, Now It’s Overhead is the acclaimed indie rock band fronted by Andy LeMaster. Emerging in the early 2000s alongside the era-defining Saddle Creek scene, LeMaster collaborated with artists including Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes), Michael Stipe (R.E.M.), Orenda Fink (Azure Ray), and Maria Taylor (Azure Ray).

During this period, Now It’s Overhead released three acclaimed full-length albums: Now It’s Overhead (2001), Fall Back Open (2004), and Dark Light Daybreak (2006). Available on vinyl for the first time, these long-awaited editions are essential for listeners and collectors exploring the indie rock landscape of the early 2000s. All three albums have been newly remastered by Andy LeMaster—musician, songwriter, engineer, producer, and visual artist.

The Associated Press described Now It’s Overhead as “a unique brand of organic and synthetic dark pop—made possible by LeMaster’s studio prowess—that remains distinctive even when Conor Oberst and Michael Stipe briefly stop by.”

Accompanying these reissues, Now It’s Overhead is also releasing new music for the first time in nearly twenty years. The five-song EP, in the beginning, arrives digitally on September 18, 2026.

2026 Repress

'Quiet Pieces' initiates Abul Mogard’s personal imprint Soft Echoes with a definitive self-portrait of calm, contemplative, and discreet inner landscapes made audible. It is the first solo album on vinyl in four years. RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker.

While sifting through archived material left idle from earlier projects, a chance encounter with a late uncle’s trove of beloved 78rpm classical and opera records prompted the reworking and completion of what would eventually become the album. Spinning dusty records at 33 and 45rpm, Abul Mogard recombined their enduring spectres with unfinished sketches from his archive. The resulting soundscape blurs distinctions between his memories and those of another, exquisitely short-circuiting the senses with its waking, dream-like lucidity.

This was a process I hadn’t explored in my earlier works. I began sampling brief moments from these records, altering them with studio effects and playing them at slower speeds. In many cases, I wasn’t entirely sure how the original music sounded. These fragments, once further processed, became a source of inspiration for my new compositions. Over time, I realised that the old pieces from the archive and the new material derived from the samples naturally complemented each other.”

The resulting pieces hover over a threshold, a liminal space that harmonises the old and older material. Voluminous waves of quiet and loud undulate between consonance and dissonance, conjuring imagery of a decaying grandeur that humanity’s decadence has surrendered to the elements. Abul Mogard’s seemingly abandoned yet vast landscapes are nevertheless intimate with timbral frissons of red-lined distortion. Elusive, yet as tangible as sea spray or smog, they affect the olfactory senses with a rarified, synesthetic quality that modestly engages one’s emotional register – a hypnotic, distinguishing feature long hailed as one of the hallmarks of his work. A fidelity to memory and dream recall is sensitively probed in the journey from the stately symphonic stasis of 'Following a dream' to the almost industrial, untethered brutality evoked by a looming silhouette that’s never fully visible in 'Constantly slipping away', culminating in the foreboding coda of 'Like a bird'. Those pieces appear to shield the album’s sentimental core, where the tempestuous play of light and shadow of 'In a studded procession' escalates to breathtaking, panoramic climax, while 'Through whispers' evokes an out-of-body-like experience encountered with visceral poignancy.

Looking back, Mogard notes an unexpected influence: “I realise being inspired by Phill Niblock, whose work I had barely known at the time but explored after his passing in 2024. His album 'Boston Tenor Index' changed the way I approached dissonance. It encouraged me to push my sound further, to the edge of a space where I began to feel uncomfortable.”

The album artwork, created by longtime collaborator Marja de Sanctis, features a photograph taken at the Temple of Jupiter Anxur, an archaeological site overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Captured with an iPhone, the image traces the residual presence of construction techniques and architectural forms of the Romans, where material history is transcribed through contemporary tools. The convergence of ancient and modern technology aims to reverberate the site’s lasting spiritual presence – an echo persisting in what is now perceived as a quiet, emptied space. The spiral gestures towards infinity and light. Past and present dissolve into one another, reflecting 'Quiet Pieces' meditation on sound, memory, and time.

RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker

Mining the rich seam between transcendental escapism and crushing physical pressure, Sciama delivers his first album for Samurai Music. Exploring an energetic pitch between half-time and full-tilt 170, the London-based producer sculpts brooding soundscapes of sheer peaks and deep pits, driven by unrelenting but light-footed forward motion and an imposing strain of sound design. As Sciama, Michael Watters has been marking out his exacting sound since 2019 with an assured run of albums on ASC's Auxiliary label. His second EP for Samurai — the Wave Interaction 12" released earlier this year — pointed to his current area of focus inspired by the teachings of electronic music pioneer Daphne Oram. Contemplating the relationship between precise electronic frequencies and human perception, Celetal Form now delivers the full findings of his exploration. Oram coined the term 'celetal' in her 1972 book An Individual Note of Music, Sound and Electronics, trying to sum up a connection between the celestial and electrical. It's this spiritual dimension contained within sound waves Watters is concerned with, and the shape of the music on Celetal Form follows suit. In an opening statement of abyssal ambience, 'Overload Into Silence' establishes an atmosphere that endures throughout the album. Caught between steely textures, vaporous reverb tails and subtle harmonic interactions, the glacial shift of the many layers under Watters' control reveals an intense amount of detail at play even before drums and bass come into play. From there on in, the intensity ramps up from one heavyweight stepper to the next. There is agile, brittle top-end percussion at work on the likes of 'Induced Resonance' and 'Consuming Pulse', perhaps the most closely connected to D&B, while 'Rational Echoes' and 'Scanning Waveband' deal in urgency and techno-coded tension. A half-time roll guides the huge kick drum undulations of 'No Panacea', and 'Celetal Emergence' opens up into more spacious surroundings to let the subtle microtonal inflections of the synth tones set a curious mood. The two 'Intermodulation' tracks bring Watters' exacting approach into sharp focus, pushing the drums back and foregrounding alien frequencies that coalesce into unfamiliar yet strangely uplifting forms. Throughout Celetal Form this uncanny sensation charges the music with a power that reaches beyond its immediate, surface level impact. This intentional reflection on Oram's visionary thinking charges the current sound of Sciama with energetic intrigue that stands apart and invites a mindful, maybe even spiritual, engagement.

For the label's latest, Oath is proud to present 'Honey Tangerine', the newest mini-album from producer extortionaire Olsvangèr, who serves up his signature blend of hyper-kinetic, ever-shifting dance music.

Olsvangèr's sound and musical journey are forever rooted in the liminal spaces that make up the broad-reaching and ever-shifting electronic music landscape, with his records consistently channeling that in-betweenness that imprints lasting impressions. A classically trained musician with a profound passion for house and techno, Olsvangèr's sonic palette is one of both broad and delicate brush strokes, applying an array of compelling motifs within amorphous arrangements that blend and blur perspectives. His records seek out the faraway fringes as much as focusing on the intensity found in the detail, creating cavernous soundscapes that are impeccably tuned and effortlessly free-flowing. Seemingly genreless, his records are anchored in all that is known and loved, yet due to the music's perspective situated at the intersectionality of electronica, a beautiful anticipation resides within every stanza of his tracks at what may come next. His musical language has found him releasing on the likes of Kalahari Oyster Cult, Hooj Choons and Craigie Knowes, and follows through within his imprint Tofistock, which has been pushing some of the most forward-thinking dance music of recent times.

'Honey Tangerine' touches upon the classic motifs of Olsvangèr's sound, and as always, the room for growth within the record's parameters remains truly endless. Over six tracks, Olsvangèr lays bare the directions of travel, with paths unravelling that feel well trodden yet with some that branch out towards new horizons. 'Source of Thought' opens up proceedings with a captivating ambience, where twinkling hues and lively tones paint the parameters of sound. The chuggy breaks that land deep within the mix drop in and out of view, allowing a deft balance between pure ambiance and rhythm to exchange dialogue between one another. 'In a Nutshell' shifts gears in atmosphere and energy, with all eyes placed upon the club. The shifting rhythm section lifts the acidic melodic features up above, with driving bass notes and a euphoric vocal like lead linking the depths to the heavens. 'Tulpa Nine' swings into heads-down territory, where the drums swing slow and the throbbing bass hits heavy. The auto-tune vocal line up above creates an atmosphere of hazy, smoke-filled rooms, where the party yearns for downtime in anticipation of the next shift in energy.

'Sunrise on the Lips' gives over further chill out room vibrations, where the lights remain low, and smiles reside all around. The enriching drums provide the basis for sitars and glossy keys to glide across the top ends, with the mind invited to dip deep within this enthralling ensemble. 'Zoom It Out' provides the release into the room, with the ante upped. A breaky house leaning number, this cut grooves through its chiming melodic section and groove-laden bass line, with the polyrhythmic drumming pattern doing much to keep the energy residing very high indeed. The record is wrapped up with 'Some Air', which gives over one final jaunt through the airy, slowed-down slipstreams. A wondrous beat is complemented by melodic elements that chime, absorb and quiver, glowing through the night with such charm and feel. An engrossing composition that demonstrates what Olsvangèr is all about - a crafter of sound, where adventure is sought and found, never wavering but curating new connections, feelings, and tones, with an eye on what might come next.

Whether softly undulating or boundlessly expressive, Olsvangèr's music remains a beautiful enigma that serves up both the glorious knowns and the captivating unknowns - 'Honey Tangerine' is yet another chapter in his glorious discography.

SECOND REISSUE ON THIS HEAT’s OWN NEW IMPRINT FOLLOWING ‘THIS HEAT’ (TH01LP) WHICH WAS UNCUT ‘REISSUE OF THE MONTH’ RECENTLY WITH 9/10 REVIEW + 4-PAGE FEATURE WITH Q+A.

*24 bit/96 kHz re-master from original analog tapes.
*Heavyweight 180gm vinyl and heavyweight sleeve with pantone printing to match original 1979 release.
Simon Reynolds on Health and Efficiency:

“For some fans, Health and Efficiency is This Heat’s peak achievement – their most concentrated blast of visceral intensity and wayward experimentalism….Lead track “Health & Efficiency” combines fierce angular rock that fully lives up to Cunningham’s belief that This Heat could become a postpunk King Crimson, with a multi-part babble of vocals, clattering percussive timbres, and found sounds.’’

Flipside “Graphic/Varispeed” is more subdued and hypnotic: a wavering tonescape whose duration depends on whether you play it at 45 rpm or 33 rpm. This reissue reproduces the original release’s striking cover image of a human figure painted in blue by Pete Cobb, along with the cryptic flipside of text in many different languages.

Although widely considered to be Post-Punk’s finest, This Heat actually began performing and recording their music in 1976, the early days of London’s punk era. Within their two albums and an EP they perfected a strange and volatile new strain of avant-garde rock that time has proved to be massively influential, a blueprint for much that would follow: post-rock, math rock, homemade musique concrète, experimental electronica. Numerous critics have recognised the band's influence on the music of Sonic Youth, Glenn Branca, Steven Wilson, Public Image Ltd., Radiohead, Swans, Shellac, Young Knives, Black Dice, Lightning Bolt and numerous other experimental and post-rock bands.

Disbanding in 1982 they have left an undeniable legacy that has only continued to grow in stature and relevance.Having recently passed the 50 year anniversary of their first gig, and the recording of material that appears on their debut album, the group’s surviving members Charles Bullen and Charles Hayward, true to their DIY roots, have set up an imprint to release their recordings for their growing fan base that is increasingly recognising their influential place in music history. 


‘They went beyond punk before punk had properly started…the entire album is a controlled explosion of ideas. Nearly fifty years on, This Heat’s debut is something the world has still not completely caught up with.’ - Simon Reynolds

‘Over the years, there have been bands to play as aggressively, or even as strangely, but very few have been able to rise from their collective influences and histories to create music so singularly distinctive and inspiring.’ – Pitchfork 9/10

‘This Heat sounded like the future then ... and still do now.’ - Dan Snaith (Caribou)

‘This Heat had a certain kind of force the post-punk bands were unable to adequately control without falling foul of rawk excess, and which the punk bands—albeit blitzing and rowdy—were too basic in form to build.’ – John Calvert , The Quietus


Impossibly rare slab: a capital-C-cult bit of millennial business from perhaps the most enigmatic member of the Gush Collective crew, who in the early 00s not so much redefined, but refined UKG… and then some. Alongside folks like Herb-LF and Lorenzo, Yoshino was a stalwart: releasing and remixing on the legendary but somewhat overlooked German labels Draft Recordings and Gush. It was here these cats smoothed out the UKG sound with a spliffed out vibe that fucked with the raw warm herby sounds of Tyree Cooper and QX-1; Yoshino, more than most though, flirted with sounds you wouldn’t expect to find in the UKG realm: think ethereally stuff man, I’m talking Placid Angels with the pseudo Japanese pop sensibilities of Faye Wong - but when when the cards fall down, his productions equally bang. So: splice in a bit of Serious Danger and Makesome Breaksome, light a phat one or zwei… & welcome to the wheelhouse.

‘Back to Basics' is a celebration of Yoshino as an artist: featuring a repress from our favourite Gush Collective stash (which is now so dear it makes me wish I’d better taken care of my records at after parties); three first time cuts of his on wax that we’ve curated from over the years that feature appearances from Peaky Beats and Miss Angel - and of course, there’s a killer remix from deep digging DJ and producer, Enchanted Rhythms (whose Youtube archive is packed to the veritable rafters with the most overlooked gems and updated with such frequency that it is hard to keep up). Apart from being a head’s head, Rich is also part of the Pace familia, so we're happy to welcome him to the catalogon a terrain he has endlessly kept fresh since day dot - he knows his shit here, and of course, he taps into that Yoshino flava big time.

Linda’s Head is the first new album in over a decade by the Pacific Northwest trio of Liz Harris (guitar, vocals), Scott Simmons (bass), and Jed Bindeman (drums) .

Like its predecessor, 2015’s The Original Faces, the album maps a uniquely intimate and potent vision of bedroom dream pop. Theirs is a shoegaze of half-light and silhouettes, attuned to the shadowplay of melody, melancholy, and undertow.

The record’s title is a refraction of meanings: a head in the clouds, a severance, a fictitious landform jutting into the sea. The music is similarly layered, both yearning and weathered, its edges blurred by years in the wild. Lyrics of waves, storms, and escape further shade the songs in subcurrents of desperation and beauty, tinged in the palette of the New Zealand pop underground. But at its core Helen’s chemistry is one of warmth and release, powered by the kinship of old friends in dark times.

YARN welcomes René Audiard for its tenth release with "Makes Me Feel", a four-track EP from one of underground electronic music’s most singular voices.

Across years of dub techno, minimal and leftfield electronic experimentation, René has developed an approach to stripped-down music that feels anything but limited. Where minimalism can often become an exercise in taking things away, his work finds possibility in what remains. "Makes Me Feel" is a particularly fitting example: immersive, at times strange, but always full of feeling.

‘Lovin’ opens the EP in familiar Audiard territory: murky low-end, locomotive groove, reduced rhythmic compositions and an understated framework swimming in a pool of detail. 'Possession' lets in more light. Vocal echoes, persistent rhythms and occasional string phrases give it a cinematic quality, while a groove that seems to circle endlessly takes on an almost shamanistic pull. The EP’s 11-minute behemoth, 'Flesh', fills most of the release’s B-side while making a convincing case for patience and sophistication. There are echoes of minimal’s golden age here, but Audiard never mistakes repetition for standing still. Tiny rhythmic fragments sit alongside expansive orchestral gestures, with samples working at every scale of the arrangement. Warmth and cinematic drama run through the track, but it's the playful programming underneath that keeps it moving. 'Night' closes the record on a different note, recalling Audiard’s work with Ali Çakır in Düve. Percussive samples, accordion and Middle Eastern guitar phrases bring a more acoustic character to his reduced 808-infused broken beats, making for a playful, occasionally melancholic ending with a distinctly microtonal feel.

What makes René Audiard’s music so rewarding is how readily you recognize his hand in it. There is a particular grain to the sounds, a way of placing details within a groove, and a willingness to follow an idea wherever it leads. Across “Makes Me Feel”, those instincts give four quite different tracks a shared identity. Even when working within familiar forms, Audiard makes them sound entirely his own. It’s the holy grail of music production: a personal sound signature. And a thoughtful addition to YARN’s growing repertoire of reduced, sophisticated dancefloor music.

2026 Repress

Prologue: Wearied by our endless travelling under a burning sun, we stopped by the margins of a tiny stream, embraced by a timid vegetation. The scorching heat made our throat parched and weak: yearning to quench our thirst, we immersed ourselves into the waters without any hesitation, drowning our dryness and our exhausted limbs. I pointed my face, revived by water, towards the sky and I lingered on, admiring it: a flock of birds gently floated, drawing in the sky some abstract shapes. I sat beneath a palm tree, motionlessly admiring the show, the shades of the night approaching. 'The true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. Only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.' --

Hailing from Athens, Georgia, Now It’s Overhead is the acclaimed indie rock band fronted by Andy LeMaster. Emerging in the early 2000s alongside the era-defining Saddle Creek scene, LeMaster collaborated with artists including Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes), Michael Stipe (R.E.M.), Orenda Fink (Azure Ray), and Maria Taylor (Azure Ray).

During this period, Now It’s Overhead released three acclaimed full-length albums: Now It’s Overhead (2001), Fall Back Open (2004), and Dark Light Daybreak (2006). Available on vinyl for the first time, these long-awaited editions are essential for listeners and collectors exploring the indie rock landscape of the early 2000s. All three albums have been newly remastered by Andy LeMaster—musician, songwriter, engineer, producer, and visual artist.

The Associated Press described Now It’s Overhead as “a unique brand of organic and synthetic dark pop—made possible by LeMaster’s studio prowess—that remains distinctive even when Conor Oberst and Michael Stipe briefly stop by.”

Accompanying these reissues, Now It’s Overhead is also releasing new music for the first time in nearly twenty years. The five-song EP, in the beginning, arrives digitally on September 18, 2026.

Confessions of a Lonely Heart follows the journey of a heart searching for connection. Across nine tracks, including “Miss Me More,” “Someday” and “Psycho,” Eric Nam shares deeply personal confessions of heartbreak, yearning, obsession and self-discovery. While the stories are his own, the emotions behind them are universal: the desire to love, be loved and feel understood. “Loneliness can make us feel as though we’re the only person experiencing it, when in reality, it’s one of the most universal parts of being human,” Eric shares. “This album gave me a place to be honest about emotions that can be difficult to admit and confess things we often keep to ourselves. My hope is that people can hear pieces of their own stories in these songs and feel understood by them. When we’re willing to share what’s in our hearts, we remind one another that none of us is truly alone, and together, we can all be a little less lonely.”

Vinyl in kraft sleeve

Across four tracks of lean and potent workouts with his unmistakable sonic signature, Peverelist returns to Livity Sound with his first release of 2026. After three years shaping out the Pulse series, Pace The Wrecks EP finds Pev shifting focus in subtle ways while upholding his focus on impactful, sprightly club modernism.

It's clear there are fresh inputs into the Peverelist sound from the very first note of 'Wreck I', which opens on an ominous lower-register piano note leading into a brooding house-tempo cut laced with sci-fi synth licks. On 'Wreck II' the dial shifts towards a more rapid-fire, electro-informed rush before swerving towards the bass-heavy, bleep-loaded jack of 'Wreck III'. 'Wreck IV' closes the EP out on a more sparsely arranged broken beat tip primed for lighter moments in the mix.

True to Pev's singular sound while maintaining the consistently fresh, uplifting energy of his recent output, Pace The Wrecks opens up the next phase in his studio work with assured poise and a sustained commitment to keep pushing forwards.

Originally released via the Leipzig-based underground label Minor in 2017 the two tracks on this super limited 7" vinyl release see the Japanese producer providing a glimpse into the deeper, more intriciate and surely more intimate side of his work throughout his now 25 years spanning career. Both tracks on this release are based on fragile, fluttering, sparse yet playful rhythmatic signatures evoking memories of late 90s / early 2000s Electronica x IDM releases and backed by most beautiful, icy and glistening atmospheres reminiscent of autumnal morning dew or calm iridescent glacial reflections caused by a rising sun in absolutely unscathed wilderness.


Never officially distributed before and only known and recognized by a few well informed selectors out there this is the first time ever this unrecognized gem is available to a wider audience, albeit in highly limited quantities.

Limited pressing of 100 single copies on white marbled vinyl.

After a years-long hiatus, Criminal Practice returns with a redefined sound philosophy. CRIME005: Less Excuses EP is the result of transformative recent years that have sharpened the label’s distinct identity and core musical values.

Delivering four cuts of non-trivial tech house, this record is built strictly for the dancefloor. A versatile yet highly original release, tailored for passionate diggers and selectors pushing the modern electronic sound.

Richard Sen debuts on Phantasy with ‘Space 1999 / Bergen Light Rail’, the first transmission from the illustrious DJ and producer since his vinyl-only solo LP, 2024’s ‘India Man’.

Deeply invested in electronic music for over thirty years, first at the intersection of London’s acid house and graffiti art scenes, evolving in cult duos Padded Cell and Bronx Dogs, and now generously sharing his formidable knowledge of club culture on London’s Do!! You!!! Radio, Sen is known to take listeners anywhere. On this occasion, he locks into two distinct influences from his winding creative journey, with ecstatic results.

The title of ‘Space 1999’ mirrors Sen’s own hand-painted accompanying artwork, yet its sonic influence sits much closer to our own orbit; A tribute to a slice of London nightlife history, Space at Bar Rhumba was a midweek party led by residents Luke Solomon and Kenny Hawes, whose selections helped sculpt the deep house scene at the turn of the millennium. ‘Space 1999’ transports contemporary dancers back there in no less than ten minutes, led by a deep bassline and swinging drums, while an intergalactic melody slowly takes hold, resulting in pure satisfaction.

‘Bergen Light Rail’ embraces a different kind of kosmische, looking to the northern light of space disco and following the tram route of its namesake to the Norwegian city’s beloved Club Ostre, riding a rhythm of pogoing toms and crashing drums. Conjuring a dreamy tête-à-tête between ever-expanding, heavenly synths and tightly-wound arpeggiators, Sen’s transmission to the stars is a deeply human call to dance.

Often credited as the father of multi-media theatre, Alwin Nikolais (1910-1993) took complete creative control over his productions - including cutting-edge approaches to lighting and costume that transformed human bodies into shifting sculptural shapes, while also composing wildly innovative electro-acoustic and synth-based audio as accompaniment.

After initially experimenting with musique concrète and tape manipulation (as demonstrated on the 1959 LP Choreosonic Music of the New Dance Theatre of Alwin Nikolais) Nikolais became the first owner of Robert Moog's synthesizer at the Audio Engineering Society convention in New York in late 1964. Relying heavily on the Moog and later the Synclavier synth/sampler, these 21 tracks document Nikolais' highly-prescient compositions across the mid 1960s through to the late 1980s - existing not only as extensions of his other-worldly choreographic productions, but standalone pieces of foundational mid-century American electronic and experimental music.

"Born in Southington, Connecticut in 1910, Nikolais’s early years and early career were in acting, music and puppetry. It was not until the late 1930s that he began his work as dancer/choreographer in Hartford, Connecticut, where he was commissioned by the Avery Memorial Theatre, a part of the Wadsworth Atheneum, to create an evening-length work to the music of Ernst Krenek. Previously his work and study as a pianist-organist found him accompanying silent films. This sort of accompaniment required from the musician not only a playing skill but also a versatility in improvisation, matching movement to sound, and evoking mood to situation.

Nik was drawn initially to dance by his involvement with the percussion scores used by the illustrious early twentieth century German dancer Mary Wigman. In trying to learn more about percussion, he was lured into dance class and thus his career began. His development of music and dance occurred simultaneously. His introduction to the twelve-tone technique opened his mind to the expanding areas of atonal music, and his dealing with music as sound per se. In 1948, after being appointed director of the Henry Street Playhouse in New York, Nikolais formed the Playhouse Dance Company, later known as the Nikolais Dance Theater, and began his aesthetic orientation toward dance as a study of motion. By the 1950s, he had ceased creating literal dances and began his explorations and eventual milieu as an abstractionist.

Sound became an important part of his abstract theatre. For his first dances, which involved his new thinking of dance as both a visual and kinetic art, he used live percussion scores in which he directed his dancers to play instruments of all nature. There was a combination of children’s toy instruments as well as harsh and resonant automobile brake drums, and other pitched auto parts which he also used to accompany classes. Once he installed his own tape recording machines, he quickly used the limited range these instruments provided in a new way, slowing and increasing speed and reversing sound. He also made the sounds adhere to the choreographic structure (not the other way around), thereby giving the dance its independence from the musical phrasing. But the real need remained: the search for new sound. Nik made a sound library, recording noises and percussion and vocal sounds, which the French aptly called musique concrète. Needless to say, he became a master at splicing bits and pieces.

From 1956 to 1962 Nikolais composed eleven major scores for his theatre pieces using such techniques. In 1963, James Seawright, who at the time was assisting Nik in his productions and also working at the Columbia-Princeton Center for Electronic Music, recorded a sound bank for the production Imago (1963). With this material, Nikolais created his first synthesizer score. Imago won the Paris Grand Prix in 1968 and launched the Nikolais Dance Theatre towards its national and primarily international acclaim.

During the same period, Seawright came to Nik and told him of a young man who had invented and constructed a simplified synthesizer and insisted that Nik visit the electronic fair currently being held in New York. Nik did so and met Robert Moog. He was completely taken by the new machine and after making some suggestions to Moog, (which Moog made), Nik bought the inventor’s first machine with the aid of a Guggenheim Fellowship. Moog himself was astonished by what his machine could produce for Nik. This machine was later acquired by the Museum of Musical Instruments at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor as the first Moog synthesizer. The Synclavier was Nik’s next source of sound and since the mid-1970s remained the major instrument in the Nikolais soundroom.

Alwin Nikolais has been honored and awarded throughout the world. He has received the French Legion of Honor, the Kennedy Center Honors, National Medal of the Arts, two Guggenheim Fellowships, as well as Mellon, Ford, and Rockefeller grants. He has been a recipient of NEA grants since 1966, been awarded five honorary doctorates, all for his remarkable achievements in Dance Theater. His genius has influenced several generations of artists."
—Murray Louis

A new release from the back alleys of Tokyo

"Prior to the vinyl release of the debut work “Vapor Curve”, which suffered a one-year delay due to manufacturing errors, the release of the mini-album “grainy film” has been confirmed."

Following the artist's previous release, this album completely eschews the use of computer-based DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) software. By relying exclusively on a strictly limited setup of hardware—synthesizers, samplers, and delay units—the artist pursues a meticulously woven, highly original take on minimal harmony.

At the core of this record lie exquisite ambient textures and beautifully shimmering synthesizer arpeggios. These are layered with the organic warmth of the sampler, vividly sketching out the contemporary "sound of Tokyo." As the album title suggests, the gritty, Lo-Fi texture of the sampler evokes the imagery of a vintage, low-fidelity film reel in the listener's mind. Pushing further than the predecessor, this approach embraces a more abstract, dubby, and deep soundscape aesthetic, elevating the album's artistry to new depths.

Describing this stoically refined electronic music, Maruyama reveals that it is "music for a cigar." It is not an assertive sound that demands to be the center of attention in the room. Instead, the moment the needle drops, it possesses an overwhelming power to transform the very particles of the room's air. The nostalgic and melancholic melodies, much like the shifting and fading trails of cigar smoke, embody the aesthetic of shogyo mujo (the impermanence of all things). Amidst a constantly changing world, it offers a desire to simply drift away in the slumber of sound—a supreme deep-listening experience guaranteed to transport you.

Djrum's first release since 2019, the Meaning’s Edge EP is an introduction to a whole new world. For the artist also known as Felix Manuel, it was created in the final stretches of six rather traumatic years work. Having carefully honed his techniques and aesthetics, and learned some hard-won emotional lessons over this time, finally he began to work in a quicker, lighter fashion – and to cleanse his palate a little by bringing in a fresh ingredient: his own flute playing. For listeners, though, it will serve as an appetiser, a way into the delights and complexities of this new phase of his creativity.

It’s a serious work in its own right, mind. The use of flutes – including Bansuri, Shakuhatchi, Western Classical, and synthesised all blending and blurring into one another – gives it a coherence and a sense of airiness that unites the five tracks over half an hour, however divergent their beats get. And as in all his music, Felix’s whole life is in here. Ethnomusicology studies, untold hours of DJing everywhere from the gnarliest squat raves to the most rarefied deep house clubs, explorations of his own neurological and emotional makeup, and the technical finesse of someone who is never not creating music or art, all roll into an experience that’s dazzling, delightful and keeps on giving.

Just the opening track ‘Codex’ alone touches on OG dubstep, Aphex Twin-like braindance, post-classical exploration, movie themes and more. The gentle tones and melodies that rise up out of it perfectly conjure Felix’s running theme of a protective bubble that provides a sense of safety and tranquillity even as the beats and acid gurgles and spurts all around it conjure up the slings and arrows of life’s difficulties.

The tone set, the EP moves through ultra-rarefied glass-like percussion in an almost ambient setting, hints of grime’s counterintuitive patterns, and even more hectic patterns influenced by Tanzania’s hyperspeed singeli style of dance music – but always with that perfect balance of chaos and control, unpredictability and protection. It rewards playing and replaying endlessly, it’s a profound and often joyous experience… and it’s only just the beginning. This is the return of a master craftsperson more focused than ever on his vision and vocation and ready to blow your mind all over again.

Mastered and cut on 140g black vinyl by legendary mastering engineer Matt Colton at Metropolis Studios, London. Pressed at optimal media, Germany.

Deluxe LP edition, remastered using transfers from the original
tapes lifted from the Phillips vault by mastering legend Kevin Gray.
 Pressed at Pallas on 180g heavyweight vinyl and housed in a thick
reverse-board sleeve with additional insert featuring photographs
and words by bassist on the session Bill Crow.
 This session, recorded at New York’s Nola Penthouse Studios in
1963, is a little-known masterwork from the incredible Gerry
Mulligan catalogue.
 Baritone saxophonist Gerry Mulligan was a true icon of jazz, being
one of the prominent figures in the West Coast scene through the
1950s until his death in 1996. Voted Number One musician in his
instrument by Downbeat Magazine for 42 years in a row, Mulligan
was one of the key players of his time and a figurehead who
helped shape the sound of jazz to come.
 From periods in the ‘Birth Of The Cool’-era Miles Davis line up, as
well as forming a piano-less quartet with Chet Baker, Gerry was
always on the frontline of what was hip and happening in
America’s one true art form.
 With its striking Oliver Hardimon designed cover, ‘Night Lights’ is
the very definition of refined cool jazz. Shimmering with a latenight beauty that perfectly evokes a sophisticated New York City in
the early 1960s, Gerry and his Sextet fuse slow burning jazz noir
alongside emerging contemporary Brazilian rhythms, with the
interplay between Mulligan and guitarist Jim Hall a particular
standout throughout.
 Title track ‘Night Lights’ is a wonderfully smooth, low light tune,
while the Latin-tinged ‘Morning Of The Carnival’ really finds the
band in their finest and most swinging form. A cover of jazz
standard ‘In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning’, followed by
Chopin’s ‘Prelude In E Minor’ continues the delightful groove
before we finish out with Mulligan originals ‘Festival Minor’ and
‘Tell Me When’.
 For this version of the release, New Land have also included the
1965 version of ‘Night Lights’, which gives an interesting
comparison, performed by his later day Quintet featuring the
Wrecking Crew’s legendary Hal Blaine on drums, amongst others.

Fast-rising pianist and producer Yoni Mayraz presents his debut LP ‘Dybbuk Tse!’ revealing the story of a malicious possession that is taking over one’s body and soul.

Dybbuk, known from Jewish folklore, is a malevolent wandering spirit that enters and possesses the body of a living person. It’s a cursed soul of a dead one that wanders tirelessly for sins committed during their life. The most vulnerable victims are the young and the sinful. Possession can be taken literally or as an analogy to the burden that young people carry generations back, which they have no influence on, and which they have to accept. Dybbuk can only be removed by exorcism. The titular ‘Dybbuk Tse!’ is a command to remove the spirit from the possessed body. The album is a story about possession but also about exorcism through music.

Recorded live with his band over the course of a spring week last year, ‘Dybbuk Tse!’ is indeed experimenting with the ‘darker side of things’, but yet with a somewhat lighthearted approach which is so typical of Yoni’s work. He easily combines jazz with the sound of 90’s New York hip hop and raw old school breakbeat. The album interweaves unique Middle Eastern melodies, sophisticated structures and sounds, and beautifully crafted solos played by some of the promising talents on the scene.

London based Israeli born pianist and producer Yoni Mayraz has set foot in the instrumental music scene with his EP ‘Rough Cuts’ released in 2020. Since then, Yoni and his band have been playing major venues and festivals around the world including the legendary Ronnie Scott’s and The Jazz Cafe, to name a few, bringing raw energy to stage with live versions of the studio materials, and stretching the melodies and structures into a Dancefloor-focused take on jazz.

Manchester-based producer Lily Mumby, the creative force behind Lapalace, has chosen Lavender as her botanical muse for this sixth instalment. Like the aromatic herb that grows from tiny seeds to fragrant purple stalks, her compositions unfold with a similar patience and elegance. Her synthesisers breathe with a natural rhythm, creating textures that emerge and recede like morning dew on lavender buds waiting to bloom.

The standout track ‘new age night’ – a stunning love child of William Basinski's decaying tape loops and Aphex Twin's intricate programming—carries subtle lavender-inspired tones, balancing the plant's calming essence with hypnotic rhythms. Just as lavender requires thoughtful tending before rewarding the gardener with its distinctive aroma, Lapalace's landscapes reveal deeper complexities with each listen.

Much like gardening itself, Mumby demonstrates an innate understanding of when to intervene and when to allow natural development. This approach echoes throughout her career, from her debut EP "Ephemera" which caught the attention of Insult to Injury Records' Timothy Clerkin, through to her contributions to Chez De Milo's "So It Goes" Remix EP and Manchester label Skiptrace's various artists compilation.

Her work across BBC Introducing and fossil.radio reflects this same philosophy – creating environments where sound, space, and organic movement find their natural harmony. But this composition really feels that Mumby has come of age. "Music To Watch Seeds Grow By Vol. 6" represents the continued cultivation of Lapalace's distinctive sound and demonstrates the maturity of an artist way beyond her years. This music stands as a lighthouse through a thick fog of nostalgia, much like lavender standing tall amidst an English cottage garden.

Early DJ support including - Auntie Flo, Ruf Dug, Courtesy, Vladimir Ivkovic.

Clear Vinyl - Repress!

Trumpeter Don Cherry, an Ornette Coleman soulmate and a world musician decades ago, became one of jazz's many early losses 10 years back. But saxophonist Pharoah Sanders, who joins him on this fizzing 1966 set, has since ascended to cult status, and he is still around to admire . In the 1960s, he knew no melodic fear at all, in which respect he was aptly partnered with Cherry. This is a quartet set, strongly influenced by the melodic approach of Coleman, but with a fierce abstraction of tone quite different from Coleman's playful lyricism.

Moreover, the rhythm team of Ed Blackwell on drums and Henry Grimes on bass provides a scintillating underpinning for the music that is worth listening to all on its own. Sanders' mix of Coltrane's yearning long notes, Ayler's ghostly, fluttering wail, Coleman's fast, bumpy phrasing and his own manic bagpipe screams certainly separates the faint-hearted from the stayers on the opening Awake Nu. But the conversation between Sanders and Cherry is light, lyrical and engaging on The Thing, and the saxophonist even gets into a stubborn, Sonny Rollins-like repeating Latin vamp on There Is the Bomb. An unflinchingly quirky classic. (THE GUARDIAN)

Ismael Pinkler lives in Buenos Aires. Belly Dance Services head Nick Hanzo in Vienna. Turns out the exact midpoint between the two is somewhere in open ocean. So they abandoned the plan to meet on Earth at all, and met on planet 126 in outer space.

It turned out to be a strange, hospitable little world — spinning at its own pulse, 126 beats per minute, changing landscape every few kilometers, as if it couldn't decide what kind of planet it wanted to be either. Ismael and Nick wandered it together, letting each new terrain talk them into a different song, until ten tracks had quietly assembled themselves. What they brought back drifts somewhere between shoegaze, techno, ambient, trippy tribal house and pop — grounded and gravitational, emotional and mental, to put it in terms Earthlings might understand.

Now, speaking seriously: Ismael and Nick built Planet 126 by passing sounds and ideas back and forth across the ocean, night after night, for eight months. The entire process — composition, vocal recording, production and mixing — took just eight months, a dream scenario for any electronic musician. The collaboration stayed positive, proactive and fresh throughout, letting the project move forward effortlessly. All tracks were written and produced by both musicians together; Nick wrote the lyrics and recorded the vocals, Ismael handled the mix. No samples, no references — just two people building a world from scratch.

Planet 126 also marks a milestone for Belly Dance Services: the label's 30th release, and likely its last. BDS began with BDS001, a vinyl EP by label founders Hanzo & Yaman, and has been solely helmed by Nick Hanzo for the past five years. Now it comes full circle — laid to rest with a big bang: a double vinyl gatefold album co-produced by Ismael Pinkler and label head Nick Hanzo.

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

It’s been 10 years since ‘Love Over Will’. In that time I have been experimenting with music outside of the purely electronic, working with musicians, other tuning systems and the role of sound in healthcare, amongst other things.

Is With Us is a return to what I love most about electronic music: the combination of sound design, rhythm and emotion. It doesn’t fall into any specific category but is rather a reflection on those elements I find interesting within the context of beats-led music.

Where ‘Love Over Will’ was slightly brooding, ‘Is With Us’ strikes a more positive note, something which wasn’t a conscious decision. It is just a moment in time.

On her first Harmony Index album, multi-instrumentalist and producer Nico Leibman spotlights the feelings that are most difficult to express, bringing out the friction between her dreamy hooks and harsher sonics. Written almost like a DJ set, the album shifts intentionally between piano-led trip-hop, lounge, dream pop, 2-step and breakbeat house, not languishing in nostalgia but defining a language that's rooted in desire, surrender and forward motion.

Until now, Leibman has been best known as a touring musician, working alongside artists like Jessica Pratt and Ana Roxanne, while slowly putting together new solo material in-between frequent tours. The album was written in bursts over the course of five long years and provided Leibman with a much-needed outlet - a chance for her to lock into her personal musical preoccupations, like Janet Jackson's 'The Velvet Rope', Everything but the Girl's 'Walking Wounded' and Prefab Sprout's 'Jordan: The Comeback'.

It's this era of pop - when nascent technology collided at force with skillful, soulful songwriting - that provides the album's backbone, fleshed out by Leibman's potent meditations on a spectrum of experiences in Los Angeles. And as the record was evolving, Leibman let long night drives crack her creative world open. Embracing the city's notoriously cinematic romantic side, she used the car as a "little chamber of limerence," in her own words, enabling her fantasies and acting as a test system for each song. "If it wasn't hitting in the car," she says. "It wasn't going to be on the record, period."

This sense of motion is evident almost immediately on 'Recognize', when Leibman's breathy words are carried into the night by choppy, uptempo breaks and resonant pads. So even when she simply coos over chugging guitars and bass on the first half of 'Enough', the drop into a low-slung breakbeat is implied. "Another digression, a break in this tension," she sings. "Was I foolish to believe that this was never your intention?" Leibman's tales of disillusionment are imbued with power, buoyed by her pitch-perfect production, with additional help from co-producer Cesar Maria.

On 'Don't Pretend', she sings softly and soulfully over decelerated Timbaland-inspired beats and a dubwise bassline, aided by additional production from Purelink. And 'If' marks the point where she lets go, infusing her euphoria with melancholy as her voice soars alongside the album's most infectious piano riff. Fittingly, the album concludes with 'Trust', a song about surrendering to the possibilities of love that works as a potent metaphor for the album's evolution. Over the course of five years, Leibman learned to let people in, finally trusting the process. "It's also a fantasy of what it would feel like to finally be in love again," she laughs, accepting that it's still just a fantasy. But it's this hope in unfulfilled longing that gives the album its unique character, defining a bold, unguarded voice in LA's experimental pop landscape.

Common Primitives is the second collaborative album between Andy Bell (Ride guitarist, Oasis bassist) and Essex-based harp and synth duo Masal. It’s a stunning, meditative collection which veers from kosmische to astral jazz by way of Turkish folk tunes and all the way back again.


Their first outing, 2023’s acclaimed Tidal Love Numbers, consisted of four lengthy and almost ambient tracks and is included here on vinyl for the first time as part of a two-record set with the new album. By contrast, the seven tracks that make up Common Primitives are almost concise, but also a lot more layered and complex.


“We tend to work from initial, free-jammed ideas, building form and arrangement from there,” explains Masal’s Al Johnson. “Above all, we believe you should go where the vibe takes you.”


For Andy, that vibe was very much jazz legend Pharoah Sanders’ classic 1977 album Pharoah, which was reissued a few years ago.


“It puts me into a hypnotic state,” he explains. “That’s why I worked with more guitar loops on this record. The Tisziji Muñoz part on ‘Harvest Time’ has had me in a vice-like grip for the last three years and it arrives here via the Vini Reilly filter.”


For Özlem Simsek, there is nostalgia, too, and she even adds vocals as well as her heavenly harp to the opening track, ‘After Kâtibim’, based on a traditional Turkish folk song she had sung as a child growing up in Istanbul.


From there, the album takes us on a real journey, with the apt, impressionistic titles added by Andy once it had all been pieced together. There’s the beautiful, elegant ‘I Swear We Are Infinite’; the atmospheric ‘Yuzuki Fighting Spirit’ and the beatific ‘Soap And Water’. ‘Tower Of Babylon’ was named after the novelette by Ted Chiang, its structured creation reflecting that in the story; first single ‘The Morning Of The Trip’ finds Andy playing his guitar “as if it was a waterfall”. The journey ends with ‘Rudi’s Dream – The Third Bardo’, the trio accelerating onto the autobahn for a krautrock crescendo inspired by their studio’s resident cat.