MAL Recordings News

MAL welcomes Hiroshi Takakura aka Element & co-owner of Riddim Chango Records with a heavyweight session of deep roots mutations and dynamic steppers.

A truly unique and well loved character, Hiroshi is one of Japan’s key figures for dub wise experimentation and this release presents a decade of influence distilled into a selection that bridges Jamaican and UK lineages with a very personal slant.

The centrepiece, ‘Longest Summer Pt.1 & 2’, is a radical remake of the theme from Fruit Chan’s Hong Kong cult film. He flips the wistful, naïve melancholy of the original alongside deep bass weight and syncopated hats with a slink and roll that feels as well suited to the steaming tarmac of LA as any smoke laced, late night Blues dance.

Born from the momentum of live set preparation, the raw sketches that make up the ep were shaped into full-blown dancefloor weapons, particularly the percussion-heavy, tribal mayhem of the title track, ‘Motion Exchange’.

All in all the release captures a snapshot of heady obsessions: UK roots and dub pressure channeling echoes of Jah Shaka, Jamaican dancehall’s roughneck energy, and a wide selection of experimental electronic influences from the early 80’s to the present day.

Motion Exchange delivers a weighty steppers sound that honours its roots while pushing into bold, forward-thinking territory.

Like Element’s sets, this is music for the rig but has layers of detail that reveal themselves on repeat listens and in selector tradition, the EP offers multiple versions for extended play.

A further milestone in MAL’s journey, with Takakura charting heavy new territories in modern dub. RIYL 5 Gate Temple / Bokeh Versions / Lord Tusk / Seln etc.

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Jon K and Elle Andrews’ MAL imprint returns with a new LP from one of the London experimental underground's best kept secrets, Rory Salter aka Malvern Brume. His music is rare, eccentric and mysterious - somewhere between Coil's bleak ritual magick and the BBC Radiophonic Workshop's most experimental, minimal fringes. 

Malvern Brume operates just beneath the radar, occasionally turning up at Café OTO lineups and on a smattering of releases for Low Company, Alter, Infant Tree and Kasual Plastik - but he’s never one to shout too loudly about his work. ‘Body Traffic’ is his most interesting set to date, laying bare a process melting found sounds, field recordings and spoken word into throbbing, pulsing rhythms. It’s an evocation of a fraught mindset during the early weeks of lockdown in 2020; sequestered in his flat next to a trainline, the infrasonic - and more audible - rumbles of rolling stock and a nagging sense of dread infecting his ambiguously discomfiting recordings.

Operating in a headspace that values world-building and vivid, visual emotionality, Salter’s careful melodies are familiar - the distant, weeping melancholia of 1970s British TV hangs off the recordings like net curtains, and his atmosphere loops into experiments that weave through bare traces of industrial music, blank-faced electro pop, and hedonistic Brummie techno, all reduced to a cinder. 

The mood is set on the bellyaching resonance and crawling walls of the title tune, while 'Through Beaked Fog Horns' is drowned beneath morning mists: lopsided synth drones choke and drift, percussion mutates into inebriated bubbles, and tape-f*cked environmental whirrs create an atmosphere that’s hard to decipher in one take. 

‘Moss Spines Clenched’ follows cryptic stains on peeling flocking, and the icy creep of ‘Tense Branches Waver’ quivers beyond a cracked windowpane. The artist’s voice appears from beneath a cardboard box fort in the imaginary world of ‘Cornered Into Sleat’ as a distant drum beats out a marching thud and traffic squeals are sculpted into chirpy whistles, before ‘Bri Dun’ resolves the eerie tension in an OOBE-like ascent above the dado-rail and across the tracks, watching himself fade into a dissociative bliss.

"All chatter falls quiet…” Salter murmurs thru saturation and white noise. It’s a sound that’s gonna stick with us for a while.

Jon K & Elle Andrews' MAL imprint returns with its second release - a long rumoured excursion from Equiknoxx skippers Gavin “Gavsborg” Blair and Jordan “Time Cow” Chung operating under the Gav & Jord masthead for the first time. It’s their most probing x tight set of productions thus far - showcasing that naturally wild rhythmic mutability that’s earned them followers in every corner of the experimental paradigm over the last few years.

‘Writings Ov Tomato’ ties off a loop between Equiknoxx and their early supporter Jon K, who was pivotal in bringing their productions to the attention of Sean Canty at DDS, who went on to release their by-now seminal ‘Bird Sound Power’ album a good half-decade ago. This new set of tracks came about after MAL urged to the duo to explore any under-excavated musical territory they’d been thinking about since they began to tour the world, and the result is this incredible, purely instrumental LP that romps between Autechrian mutations, avant R&B swangers, Jersey-style sluggers and proper, wig-flipping club missiles.

Who else would boot off a new LP with a track titled ‘Childish House Mafia’? The fact it sounds like Actress formulating an industrial noise tape using ritual chants just makes it all the more screwy. The title track returns the duo to more familiar ground, with prickly “Bird Sound Power” drums notched up a few BPM and spliced with whirring trap hats and disorienting synths. ‘A Yow Jon K’ is a Kingston-fried take on sun-bleached Miami electro, with a rolling beat filled out by Gav & Jord’s hard boiled soundboard x foley crunches, before ‘Pig Pilot’, the record’s most substantial cut, loops JBC Radiophonic Workshop convulsions around a booming 4/4 that wouldn’t sound completely out of place at Berghain’s Klubnacht. Saturating the hook and allowing ferric hats to fill in the gaps, the pair manage to fabricate a sound closer to 1970s library music than Villalobos, and we’d wager you ain’t ever heard owt like it.

Combine all this with lower-key slithering industrial-ambient moments like the plughole-wonked outro ‘Brent Bird’ (named after Gav’s producer brother), the tuned tinkle of ‘No Sweat in my Sweatpants’ and the airborne elegance of ‘Appinness’, and you’ve got another Equiknoxx joint that draws from the syncretic mosaic of Afro-Latin-Sino-US influences and re-contextualises them into remarkably odd and effective structures that dance in the integers of a myriad styles.

'Tape 1' is a cut & paste collection of original productions & edits by London's Samson A.K that navigates the gamut of outsider sounds whilst somehow remaining coherent. Apart from the rawness of the music the common thread seems to be its slightly unhinged quality and its irreverent take on the dystopia of modern life.

There's plenty of nods to the sub cultures that have informed Samson A.K along the way but plenty besides, and as moody as it is in places, it's certainly not taking itself too seriously. The genre thing doesn't really work when here but if you like skewed electronics & beats, but also go for antisocial guitar music this will probably connect.

Mastering by Miles Whittaker / Design by Jon K