Search:carla dal forno

‘Confession' is an album of quiet upheaval. An album about closeness that arrives late and unexpectedly. About stability rubbing up against desire. About the way friendship can suddenly tilt into something charged — and how that charge unsettles everything around it. Where earlier work often observed from a distance, Confession turns inward. The voice is closer, warmer, less shielded. “This wasn’t the album I intended to make,” says Carla dal Forno. “I originally wanted something veiled and abstract, but I realised I couldn’t hide behind abstraction — the songs only worked when I leaned into emotional truth.”

This is dal Forno’s fourth LP, written and recorded over several years in a small country town, in a studio housed inside a partially abandoned hospital. Long corridors, humming lights, emptied rooms — a place built for care and waiting, now quiet enough for thoughts to echo. That stillness shapes the record: intimate, watchful, unadorned. “I live in a small country town that offers a stillness my life didn’t previously have,” she explains. “In that quiet, feelings I might’ve ignored in a busy city grew loud.” Dal Forno sings plainly and conversationally, with an emotional precision that sharpens the everyday into something quietly unsettling.

The album moves through paired states: going out and staying in, wanting and withholding, devotion and distraction. Domestic calm set against private unrest. A long-held relationship offers safety and routine, while a newer connection opens emotional fault lines — longing, jealousy, fantasy, self-exposure. “At the heart of the album is a friendship that became emotionally charged in an unexpected way,” dal Forno says. “That shift brought daydreaming, jealousy, tenderness, confusion, self-awareness — and eventually acceptance.”

The drama here is internal, incremental, lived. Musically, Confession feels lighter on its feet than its subject matter suggests. Melodic basslines anchor the songs while guitars, harmonies, and gently off-kilter rhythms move around them. There’s a looseness, even a playfulness — “like the sensation of tension lifting once you finally admit something to yourself,” as dal Forno puts it. The album traces a subtle arc: attraction blooming where it shouldn’t; obsession quietly taking hold; fantasy overtaking reality; clarity arriving slowly, sometimes painfully. Visually and emotionally, Confession returns to modest spaces: backyards, beds, night streets, overgrown paths. “The record exists in that contrast,” dal Forno reflects. “Peaceful surroundings, unsettled interior.”

Like all of dal Forno’s work, Confession resists clean conclusions. It doesn’t moralise desire or romanticise restraint. Instead, it lingers in the in-between — where love is stable but not total, where yearning teaches as much as it hurts, where solitude becomes a form of care. Plain-spoken but emotionally complex. Rooted and restless. Held together by bass, breath, routine, weather. An album about admitting what you feel —and living with what that admission changes.

Carla dal Forno resurfaces with the release of her third album, Come Around, via her own Kallista Records

Carla dal Forno announces her second full-length album, Look Up Sharp , on her own Kallista records.

Dal Forno beckons a bold new era in her peerless output pushing her dub-damaged DIY dispatches to the limits of flawless dream-pop. In a transformative move towards crystal clear vocals and sharpened production, Look Up Sharp is an evolutionary leap from the thick fog and pastoral stillness of her Blackest Ever Black missives, You Know What It’s Like (2016) and The Garden EP (2017). Three years since her plain-speaking debut album, the Melbourne-via-Berlin artist finds herself absorbed in London’s sprawling mess. The small-town dreams and inertia that preoccupied dal Forno’s first album have dissolved into the chaotic city, its shifting identities, far-flung surroundings and blank faces. Look Up Sharp is the story of this life in flux, longing for intimacy, falling short and embracing the unfamiliar. Dal Forno connects with kindred spirits and finds refuge in darkened alleys, secret gardens and wherever else she dares to look.

In her own territory between plaintive pop, folk and post-punk dal Forno conjures the ghosts of AC Marias, Virginia Astley and Broadcast through her brushwork of art-damaged fx and spectral atmospheres. The first half of the record is filled with dubbed-out humid bass lines, which tether stoned hazes of psychedelic synth work as on ‘Took A Long Time’ and ‘No Trace.’ These are contrasted with songs like ‘I’m Conscious and ‘So Much better’ that channel the lilting power of YMG and are clear sequels-in-waiting to dead-eyed classics like ‘Fast Moving Cars.’

The B-side begins with the feverish bass and meandering melody of ‘Don’t Follow Me,’ which takes The Cure’s ‘A Forest’ as its conceptual springboard. It’s the clearest lyrical example since ‘The Garden’ of dal Forno’s unmatched ability to unpick the masculine void of post-punk and new wave nostalgia to reflect contemporary nuance. Look Up Sharp reaches its satisfying conclusion with ‘Push On’ - dal Forno’s most explicit foray into an undiscovered trip hop universe between Massive Attack and Tracey Thorn. The album’s last gasp finds personal validation in fragility: ‘I push on / I’m the Place I’m Going,’ a self discovery lifted by reverberant broken beats and glass-blown vocals.

Adding further depth to Look Up Sharp are the instrumentals, which flow seamlessly between the vocal-led pieces. ‘Hype Sleep’ and ‘Heart of Hearts’ drink from the same stream as The Flying Lizard’s dubbed-out madness and the vivid purple sunsets of Eno’s Another Green World. While ‘Creep Out of Bed’ and ‘Leaving for Japan’ funnel the fourth-world psychedelia of Cyclobe’s industrial-folk into the vortex of Nico’s The Marble Index.

Conceived as a whole, Look Up Sharp is a singular prism in which light, sound and concept bend at all angles. A deeply personal but infinitely relatable album its many surfaces are complex but authentic, enduring but imperfect, hard-edged but delicate. A diamond. Look up sharp or you’ll miss it.

Following her atmospheric masterpiece You Know What It’s Like on Blackest Ever Black in 2016 Carla Dal Forno has released a couple of EPs. Now she has set up her own label, Kallista, for a new 7”, So Much Better.

Going back to sleep… a lovingly gathered suite of windswept, heart-bursting contemporary DIY indie-pop and folk including new songs by Carla dal Forno, The Reds, Pinks and Purples, Lewsberg-related duo The Hobknobs and Rat Columns, next to luminaries and newcomers Daily Toll, Who Cares?, The Lewers, The Sprigs, Drunk Elk, I Can I Can't, The Gabys and Chateau. A beautiful contemporary companion of I Won't Have To Think About You (A Colourful Storm, 2017).

Focused on Australian artists predominantly recording and performing in intimate spaces, the compilation's sentiment extends to likeminded artists around the world. A feeling of introspection that seems impossible to achieve when recording for anyone but yourself. A trip through the wonderfully diverse international pop underground, or more simply, a group of music makers performing on A Colourful Storm's imaginary stage.
, or more simply, a group of music makers performing on A Colourful Storm's imaginary stage.

Jabu return with ‘A Soft and Gatherable Star’, an LP that sees the Bristol-based trio evolve from a uniquely spectral take on trip hop to proffer a singular vision between cloudy, downered dream-pop, off-kilter ambient, and the warm, low-end throb of sound system culture. This development is aligned with contemporaries like HTRK, Dean Blunt, Tarquin Manek, YL Hooi and Rat Heart Ensemble, whilst also harkening back to the likes of AR Kane (with whom they are set to play shows and release a collaborative single), the languorous drift of 'Victorialand' era Cocteau Twins or The Cure circa ‘Disintegration’. Comprising Jasmine Butt (vocals, guitar), Alex Rendall (vocals, keys) and Amos Childs (production, bass guitar), the trio’s method may have shifted but the feel remains consistent - slow, spatial, sensuous and gently melancholic. With a career arc unlike almost any other current guitar outfit, Jabu sit within a strong lineage of off-centre Bristolian music, and a very British strain of home-spun DIY bands. Self-recorded between Jas and Amos’ home in South Bristol and Amos’ mum’s house in rural North Somerset, the album came together via a process of trial and error - learning to play on borrowed instruments, using the equipment “wrong”, staying up late recording and slipping into strange, semi-conscious sleep deprived/inebriated headspaces. Having captured over 50 tracks, they honed in on those they liked most, shaping them further, whilst carving out space to allow input from people they love and admire - Daniela Dyson’s voice and Will Memotone's clarinet on ‘Ashes Over Shute Shelve’, Birthmark's synth on ‘Gently Fade’ and ‘Sea Mills’, Rakhi Singh (Manchester Collective) and Sebastian Gainsborough (Vessel)’s strings and arrangements on ‘All Night’, Josh Horsley’s cello on ‘If I Asked You, You'd Tell Me’, and Lorenzo Prati’s sax, again on ‘Sea Mills’. The album was mastered by Amir Shoat (HTRK, ML Buch, Dean Blunt, Carla Dal Forno). Influence-wise, the guitar-based material recalls the bands Amos listened to when younger, and Jas’ more folk-leaning inspirations. Deep-lying dub, hip hop and soul influences are also evident in both the way the LP was mixed, and the space ingrained in their subconscious. Tinged with melancholy, the songs cohere as a set of soliloquies and ruminations on love and tenderness. The album’s title comes from a poem by Amos’ late father which hangs on his wall and seeped into the record. ‘Ashes Over Shute Shelve’ is formed of lines from another poem of his. Recited by longtime collaborator Daniela Dyson and with Will Yates (Memotone) playing his mother’s clarinet, the track was imagined as a conversation between his parents. Geography and location also play a big part in the record, with several significant places name-checked in songs. Shute Shelve itself is a hill near Amos’ mum’s house, who explains “There’s a tree at the top with a 360° view of the Mendips, where my dad’s ashes were scattered. We used to go up there when we could first buy booze from the petrol station down the road, get drunk, light a fire, listen to music from my little battery powered CD player and sleep out without tents.” Titled after a Bristol suburb near where Amos’ grandparents lived and where Jas would spend time as a teenager, ‘Sea Mills’ references her being abandoned by friends on the Downs while high on mushrooms, stranded and missing the bus back. ‘Kosiše Flower’ references the city in Slovakia where Amos and Jas holidayed shortly after getting together and a flower he gave her, which she pressed in a book after an argument. ‘Oceanside Spider House’ is a location in Nintendo 64 game The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask, where someone seeks shelter from the falling moon. Genre: Electronic / Ambient / Dream-pop

Balancing glitch-pop and contemporary piano, the Belgian pianist explores the edges of her voice, language and twisted electronica



The Belgian pianist and producer maya dhondt releases a new album titled 'wow, x', marking her debut solo album under her own name. Navigating between bedroom glitch-pop and contemporary piano, she presents sounds of alienating beauty.



The album ‘wow, x’ will be released on September 13 on vinyl and all digital platforms via VIERNULVIER Records.



“I find beauty in the uncomfortable and disorienting" - maya dhont



The first single, 'desire,' is a mutated synth-pop track that gets under the skin. The song centralizes longing for something you don't know (yet). Perhaps it's the smell of damp earth, which can be both pleasant and unsettling? The single is now available on all streaming platforms and comes with a schizophrenic video by Sakis Brönnimann.



The first release show is scheduled for Saturday, October 5, at De Koer, Ghent.

More shows will be announced soon.



A postmodern cramp, that's how one could describe the music of pianist and producer maya dhondt. Her music is an intuitive and a never ending exploration that has the potential to be and become a multitude of things at once.



On her first solo album under her own name, 'wow, x,' she presents 10 varied tracks in which she creates equally idiosyncratic sound worlds. She takes the liberty to endlessly experiment with vocals, piano, and a mix of distorted lo-fi electronic sounds with an open mind. The result is sometimes synthetic and weird, sometimes compellingly beautiful, and always captivating, drawing you into its underlying melody. These intelligently crafted productions are connected by a penchant for alienating beauty: like a warm, but damp cave where it’s pleasant to linger just a little longer. Her original sound moves within a sonic spectrum reminiscent of contemporary artists such as Lolina, Astrid Sonne, claire rousay, aya or Carla Dal Forno.



"What I create never stands alone, it can be many things at once"



If the world were a sculpture garden, maya dhondt eagerly picks from it to draw inspiration from both visual and literary passages as well as personal experiences. Her highly personal bedroom productions are grounded firmly in the world due to philosophical references and politically charged messages. And the world she lives in is being questioned on 'wow, x', as the title refers to "What Or Why?". This is evident in the single 'desire': "What is the thing that matters / to exist / or to know you’re existing?" What does one choose in life: to live in the moment or to live to remember that moment?



In the lyrics on 'wow, x', maya dhondt plays - at times childishly - with language and its boundaries. On 'tip toe tip,' banal wordplay leads to an unexpected confession, and the seemingly simple phrases in 'untitled' conceal hidden life lessons. dhondt's world of words is multilayered and multilingual: Dutch ('kleine cijfers, groot verlies'), English ('desire'), and French ('untitled') are at her disposal. And on the fierce track that is 'minimalinvasiv,' not only she turns to hardstyle, but also to German - a language dear to her due to her Swiss heritage.

The drone-pop consternations of Ekin Fil emerge through vaporous tone and forlorn, distant song, as if plucked from a dream. These exist on their own accord, moving with their own internal logic of an emotion heaviness that belies any the passing observation of this as mere shoegazing ambience. Her songs, her compositions find themselves adjacent the fragmented etherealization of Elisabeth Fraser's voice from a forgotten scene of a particular David Lynch film, as a ASMR trigger for Proustian recollection. Something profound. Something hidden. Something desolately sad.

The Helen Scarsdale Agency has had the pleasure of witnessing Ekin's continued development, maturation, and growth as a composer, having released now seven of her magnificent, under-the-radar gems. Her slow burning, dejected ballads continue to draw from the deep well of sorrow, with varying frequencies and intensities of bitter light poking through. Loves lost. A world broken. All is not hopeless, but there is a considerable amount of shit to wade through.

Sleepwalkers embraces a familiar set of metaphors in her work, that of narcolepsy and the unsettled state of existence between sleep and being awake. But she stretches herself with a set of compositions that run parallel to the work of Tim Hecker as in the gravitation soft-noise of "Stone Cold" or to a slow motion serialism that punctuates the ambient crawl of her ambitious "Gone Gone." Recommended for fans of Grouper, Rafael Anton Irisarri, A.C. Marias, and Carla dal Forno.

Clear Vinyl

Blue Lake is the musical moniker of American born, Copenhagen based multidisciplinary artist and musician Jason Dungan, who signs to the Tonal Union imprint for the release of his new longform album ‘Sun Arcs’. It follows 2022’s release ‘Stikling’, earning a nomination for ‘Album of the Year’ at the Danish Music Awards plus warm praise from The Hum blog and musicians and DJs alike including Jack Rollo (Time is Away/NTS) and Carla dal Forno. A self taught player, Dungan began freely experimenting with self-built multi-string instruments, preferring to build his own hybrid 48-string zither and working in the realms of left-field ambient music, off kilter folk and improvised acoustic minimalism.

The starting point of ‘Sun Arcs’ saw Jason travel for a week alone to Andersabo, a cabin set in the idyllic Swedish woods just outside of Unnaryd, known also as the music project, festival and residency space which has been run by Dungan since 2016, hosting artists like Sofie Birch, Johan Carøe and Ellen Arkbro. Whilst writing 1-2 pieces per day, a conscious decision was made to leave behind everyday distractions and shut out the outside world to instead focus on the natural passage of time as Dungan recalls: “My only sense of time came from these daily walks out in the woods with my dog, and an awareness of the sun’s path as it moved across the sky each day.”

The album’s immersive world unfolds with the opener ‘Dallas’, an ode to his home state and a musical synthesis of these two disparate spaces (Texas and Denmark), the touchstones of Dungan’s life. A folk-esque single acoustic builds to a flowing arrangement of clarinets, organ and cello drones coupled with percussion. ‘Green-Yellow Field’ chimes in as the first of two solo oriented zither recordings twinned with the dreamlike title track ‘Sun Arcs’, both densely rich as cascading and overlapping harmonic tones resound. ‘Bloom’ emerges with a krautrock psyche before an eruption of cello drones, slide guitar and free-ranging zither playing, ushering in the anticipation of spring. With half of the recordings conceived in Andersabo, Jason returned to Copenhagen to form the album's centre piece ‘Rain Cycle’ which features a tempered Roland drum machine alongside shifting zither improvisations. ‘Writing’ explores the shimmering harp-like qualities of sweeping playing figurations with Dungan mapping out adjusted tuning “zones” on the zither for unconventional but creatively liberating effects. ‘Fur’ captures the feeling of openness and the momentum of time, seeing Dungan perform waves of solo clarinet, often in one takes and embellished with textural drones, a zither solo, and layers of guitar. ‘Wavelength’ the album's closer is fondly inspired by the film works of Michael Snow and Don Cherry’s seminal live album ‘Blue Lake’ (1974), as it builds out from a drone-generated zither chord and features an alto recorder solo. Dungan found a deep connection to Cherry’s stripped back performance ethos, focusing on the core beauty of minimal instrumentation creating a genre-less meeting between folk and jazz. A dialogue is formed between the solo and the bandlike performances, interlinked in a geographical duality with all finding a sense of commonplace as musical sketches of visited landscapes. The bountiful instrumentation ebbs and flows as further layers emerge with Dungan constructing his material much like an artist would, recording and reviewing, adding and subtracting.

Musically it portrays a form of double life led by an American-identifying person living in Scandinavia, and a new found presence in Denmark, seeking out underdeveloped marshlands and barren stretches of beach adrift from other rhythms and distractions. Highlighting their individual and potent importance Dungan concludes: “Both places feel like “me”, I think on some level the music is always some kind of self-portrait.” ‘Sun Arcs’ depicts the intricate balance of nature’s cycles and the paths outlined by the seasons, from a winter dormancy to a warm sun drenched scene. The album scales new glorying heights and further defines Dungan’s musical narrative, inhabiting a unique space in left-field, improvised and experimental music, borning his most accomplished compositions to date. A singular and visionary expression, drawing on an array of instruments and sound worlds with a renewed sense of joy and discovery.

The album's rich tapestry was mixed by Jeff Zeigler (Laraaji, Mary Lattimore, Kurt Vile /Steve Gunn) and mastered by Stephan Mathieu (Kali Malone, KMRU, Félicia Atkinson).

Blue Lake is the musical moniker of American born, Copenhagen based multidisciplinary artist and musician Jason Dungan, who signs to the Tonal Union imprint for the release of his new longform album ‘Sun Arcs’. It follows 2022’s release ‘Stikling’, earning a nomination for ‘Album of the Year’ at the Danish Music Awards plus warm praise from The Hum blog and musicians and DJs alike including Jack Rollo (Time is Away/NTS) and Carla dal Forno. A self taught player, Dungan began freely experimenting with self-built multi-string instruments, preferring to build his own hybrid 48-string zither and working in the realms of left-field ambient music, off kilter folk and improvised acoustic minimalism.

The starting point of ‘Sun Arcs’ saw Jason travel for a week alone to Andersabo, a cabin set in the idyllic Swedish woods just outside of Unnaryd, known also as the music project, festival and residency space which has been run by Dungan since 2016, hosting artists like Sofie Birch, Johan Carøe and Ellen Arkbro. Whilst writing 1-2 pieces per day, a conscious decision was made to leave behind everyday distractions and shut out the outside world to instead focus on the natural passage of time as Dungan recalls: “My only sense of time came from these daily walks out in the woods with my dog, and an awareness of the sun’s path as it moved across the sky each day.”

The album’s immersive world unfolds with the opener ‘Dallas’, an ode to his home state and a musical synthesis of these two disparate spaces (Texas and Denmark), the touchstones of Dungan’s life. A folk-esque single acoustic builds to a flowing arrangement of clarinets, organ and cello drones coupled with percussion. ‘Green-Yellow Field’ chimes in as the first of two solo oriented zither recordings twinned with the dreamlike title track ‘Sun Arcs’, both densely rich as cascading and overlapping harmonic tones resound. ‘Bloom’ emerges with a krautrock psyche before an eruption of cello drones, slide guitar and free-ranging zither playing, ushering in the anticipation of spring. With half of the recordings conceived in Andersabo, Jason returned to Copenhagen to form the album's centre piece ‘Rain Cycle’ which features a tempered Roland drum machine alongside shifting zither improvisations. ‘Writing’ explores the shimmering harp-like qualities of sweeping playing figurations with Dungan mapping out adjusted tuning “zones” on the zither for unconventional but creatively liberating effects. ‘Fur’ captures the feeling of openness and the momentum of time, seeing Dungan perform waves of solo clarinet, often in one takes and embellished with textural drones, a zither solo, and layers of guitar. ‘Wavelength’ the album's closer is fondly inspired by the film works of Michael Snow and Don Cherry’s seminal live album ‘Blue Lake’ (1974), as it builds out from a drone-generated zither chord and features an alto recorder solo. Dungan found a deep connection to Cherry’s stripped back performance ethos, focusing on the core beauty of minimal instrumentation creating a genre-less meeting between folk and jazz. A dialogue is formed between the solo and the bandlike performances, interlinked in a geographical duality with all finding a sense of commonplace as musical sketches of visited landscapes. The bountiful instrumentation ebbs and flows as further layers emerge with Dungan constructing his material much like an artist would, recording and reviewing, adding and subtracting.

Musically it portrays a form of double life led by an American-identifying person living in Scandinavia, and a new found presence in Denmark, seeking out underdeveloped marshlands and barren stretches of beach adrift from other rhythms and distractions. Highlighting their individual and potent importance Dungan concludes: “Both places feel like “me”, I think on some level the music is always some kind of self-portrait.” ‘Sun Arcs’ depicts the intricate balance of nature’s cycles and the paths outlined by the seasons, from a winter dormancy to a warm sun drenched scene. The album scales new glorying heights and further defines Dungan’s musical narrative, inhabiting a unique space in left-field, improvised and experimental music, borning his most accomplished compositions to date. A singular and visionary expression, drawing on an array of instruments and sound worlds with a renewed sense of joy and discovery.

The album's rich tapestry was mixed by Jeff Zeigler (Laraaji, Mary Lattimore, Kurt Vile /Steve Gunn) and mastered by Stephan Mathieu (Kali Malone, KMRU, Félicia Atkinson).

Ekin Fil returns to the guitar on Dora Agora. Her earliest recordings, notably her debut on Root Strata, prominently featured guitar in this urgent expressions of a dreamy dreariness that immediately offered enthusiastic comparisons to Grouper. In her development as composer of ephemeral ghostliness for numerous albums as well as her scores to film soundtracks, that instrument has given way to keyboards, organs, synths, and various mood engineering devices, in her beautifully melancholy pursuits of an emotional emptiness through sound. Yet, the pandemic era gave Ekin pause to reflect on her creative process and she picked that instrument back up to create one of her greatest albums to date.

As direct and urgent as these songs can be, Ekin swaddles her acoustic guitar chords in soft-focus reverb and polyphonous shadow, colored with a judicious amount of shoegazing drone and somber atmosphere that speaks to her continued development as a composer. "Ghost Boy" in particular is a bittersweet, wistful tune whose arrangement harkens to Johnny Marr at his peak of effortless downer simplicity. "Farba" and "Yo Feelings" turn the emotional screws with soul-crush crescendos of vocal melodies that build upon Ekin's lonely guitar chords. Again, Grouper emerges as one of Ekin's closest neighbors, alongside Carla Dal Forno, Slowdive's Pygmallion, and Movietone.

"I really feel like I've gone back to a time when I was recording songs with a guitar and keyboard when I was very young. It's kind of like embracing Ekin from that period with my current ideas & mood. it's an homage, it's a wave, a hug from my present to my past…" (Ekin Fil, August 2022)

A compilation of new and recent music, either previously unreleased or until now unavailable on vinyl, by Bridget Hayden, Carla dal Forno, Lightning In A Twilight Hour, Scythe, Jam Money, Ian Martin, Unchained, The Fulmars, Hypnotic Sleep and Brainman.

Mark Is Releasing A New Ep Called Integriert Euch Nicht. It Features Two Tracks Taken From His Berghain Debut And A Freshly-composed Drum & Bass Missile. 'fucking Sick Of Myself Since Day One (hot Desk Mix)' And 'hats Off To Herr. F' Were First Performed At Mark's 2018 Berghain Live Set During Ostgut Ton Nacht. The Former Is A Breakcore-adjacent Call To Arms For The Self-loathing, The Latter An Antarctic Shiver Of Predator- Mode Idm-illektro. 'integriert Euch Nicht (commercial Jump Up Mix)' Features Singing From Blackest Ever Black Alum Silvia Kastel. Mark Wrote The Vocal Parts With Sine Waves Before Kastel Recorded Each Tone Individually, Creating Microtonal Clusters In The Vein Of Luigi Nono. The Sax-like Sounds Are Wilted Woman Playing The Aerophone, An Electronic Woodwind Instrument. Otherwise, It's Mark's Most Deliberately Straight Ahead Drum & Bass Track To Date, Trading The Beat Science Of Former Releases For A Stubbornly Boneheaded Approach In Line With The Title's Message. Integriert Euch Nicht Is Something Of A Spiritual Successor To Last Year's Tech/gentrification/real- Estate-investment Themed Integrier Dich Du Yuppie And A Ruffer, More Floor-focussed Elaboration Of The Techniques Tested On His Unterton Debut The Least Likely Event Will Occur In The Long Run. Under His Klon Dump Alias, Mark Has Also Previously Released A Psych-mnml Double Ep Called Klon Dump Vs. The Open Air On A Colourful Storm And Two Rooms, A Tape Of Sound Art Improv And Knackered Pop-strumentals On Bristol-based Imprint Nocorner. When Not Playing Solo, Mark Also Accompanies Blackest Ever Black's Carla Dal Forno On Live Electronics.

Brand new 7' EP from Glasgow's Vital Idles, following on from the band's well-received debut LP and a rigorous Marc Riley BBC 6 Music session from last year. Vital Idles are touring Europe in support of the EP, finishing up in the UK playing a series of UTR showcase parties in celebration of the label's 15 year history.


If there isn't yet a tradition of following a magnificent debut album with a, shoelaces-tightened, excellent mission statement of an EP (one would be forgiven to think that the debut long player was the mission statement already, breaking in on the scene/ry with such unmissable and rarely seen sensory delight, but then upon hearing the subsequently released EP one is tempted to think: "Wow! That debut was truly astonishing but now they are REALLY on a mission!"), well, if this tradition doesn't already exist - and thinking about Young Marble Giants' scene-defining "Final Day" 7", Pylon's absolutely essential "!!" 10" and Carla Dal Forno's recent-yet-already-classic "The Garden" 12" one might argue that this tradition is undoubtedly fully existent (more so: alive and well) — then this self-titled extended play from much beloved Glasgow quartet Vital Idles would surely be a striking argument for the genesis of such a tradition.

On the other hand, when taking sides with the many seasoned critics arguing that this tradition has indeed long been established, one might confidently list this effort as a bona fide example of such practice, sharing with the aforementioned not only an astute and accomplished artistic ability but also a sense of minimalist psychedelia that transcends restrictions set by redundant referencialism and grateless genre parameters such as "Post Punk" or "Minimal Pop" (on which the same critics, of course, often disagree).
That being said, ping-ponging from gritty post punk smashes to minimal pop moments and vice versa, Vital Idles' sphere of stripped-down efficiency and sharp personal observation also brings to mind crucially overseen half-chord-wonders Glorious Din as well as antipodean contemporaries like Constant Mongrel (who also had their latest release mastered by the fantastic M. Young), Primo! (who also had their latest release mastered by the fantastic M. Young) and Terry (who also had their latest release mastered by the fantastic M. Young).

The EP reveals itself as a steady, hypotenusal rise of intensity and momentum, starting with the hallucinogenic restrain of opener "Break A", building tension throughout the gothic-noise flourishes of "Seconds" and "Rustle Rustle" and culminating in "Careful Extracts", a 2 minute burst of carefree introspection that might as well be the unintentional answer to early career highlight "My Sentiments": "just me and my/ tired ire/ a a a a a a a a a a"

In conclusion: Vital Idles' debut was truly astonishing but - wow! - now they are truly on a mission.

A new piece by Australian artist Tarquin Manek, devised in collaboration with poet Martina Quake of Canvey Island, UK and recorded at M.E.S.S. (Melbourne Electronic Sound Studio), utilising EMS VCS3, Oberheim OB-Xa and ARP 2600 in combination with cheap, contemporary consumer electronics. It is, to all intents and purposes, a short, cautionary story about love. It is also a folk-tale, a science fiction, a suicide note. Unusually for a long-form spoken word piece, it is immediate in its impact, and lasting in its effect. Our narrator is damaged and unreliable: Quake's voice, digitally processed into a flat, AI affectlessness, conveys this all too well. Is this the vernacular poetry of the Uncanny Valley, or is it just that loss makes robots - numb and listless not-quite-humans - of us all Locks revels in the space between the spontaneous and the programmed (what is a poem if not a programme). It's part Tales Of The Unexpected, part Susan Howe, part Ruth Rendell, part HAL (or Holly). Manek's music is widescreen but understated...a becalmed landscape populated by distant drones, just-out-of-focus field recordings, and phased, minimalistic, Rhodes-style keys. A sort of sombre, lunar jazz. Space-age bachelor pad music, maybe, for a bachelor at the edge of space and the end of his tether. Just as Quake's words are cumulative in their tragedy, so the music grows more agitated and turbulent, at certain points harking back to the smoked-out psycho-acoustics of Manek's 2015 Blackest Ever Black LP, Tarquin Magnet, and his work in F ingers with Samuel Karmel and Carla dal Forno.