Suche:no windows

2022 Repress

The first transmission from Pink Dolphin arrives on a double-sided 12” – two
sides of music following the warmth, movement and possibility of an endless
day.
Night Wind moves with the ease of a warm summer afternoon – light, fluid and
quietly uplifting. Rhythm and atmosphere flow together with an effortless sense
of motion, like a breeze arriving from somewhere just beyond the horizon.
There is a feeling of open space throughout: sunlight on water, windows open,
landscapes slowly passing by. Nothing feels hurried. The music simply finds its
own pace, suspended somewhere between movement and stillness.
As the music unfolds, familiar elements seem to drift in and out of focus,
leaving just enough unexplained. It feels less like a destination than a moment –
one of those stretches of summer when time loosens its grip and the day
seems capable of continuing indefinitely.
Night Wind is a small escape into that space.

Dance Protocol keeps his foot down after an EP on Butter Side Up, serving three more cuts with plenty of bounce in the suspension for Long Vehicle here. "Heads Off" is going deep, wrapping crisp drums in lush pads and a warm streak of high-tech soul, best served as late-night snack or healthy breakfast. On the flipside, "Zero Gravity" loosens the bolts with percussion-heavy liquid funk and a disembodied vocal circling through the mix with a nod to Mr. Baby Ford. New Job (P45 Edit) clocks out on a lighter note, opening the windows to breezy grooves, loose claps and an easy, summery swing. Night shift done. See you outside!

Danielle Ponder is done waiting for a future version of herself to arrive. Now, the Rochester-born, Atlanta-rooted singer-songwriter is unapologetically living in the moment. This realization powers Everything Has Changed, Ponder's anticipated sophomore album (and debut on Dead Oceans in partnership with Phoebe Bridgers). The LP is Ponder’s most self-assured statement to date: it was crafted through a period of immense transformation as the beloved vocalist propelled from being a lawyer to a full-fledged musical powerhouse. That artistic freedom threads the album, as heard on lead single, “Power”, which serves as both a declaration and an affirmation for the Black diaspora. Other highlights include the revelatory “Sun and Moon”, the towering blues ballad “God of You”, and the devastatingly vulnerable “Open Windows”. Everything Has Changed dismantles the stories Ponder once told herself and finds peace in what remains—all themes that have shaped much of her journey. Music was always a constant presence throughout her life, but practicality initially took over in adulthood. While performing with her family’s band and later developing her own projects, Ponder pursued a legal career focused on criminal justice reform.

It wasn’t until her late 30s that she allowed herself to seriously imagine music as more than a side pursuit. In 2021, at age 39, she finally took the leap, leaving law behind to pursue her artistry full-time. The gamble paid off: she signed her first record deal in 2022, becoming a trailblazer on her own unusual path to worldwide renown. Her debut album Some of Us Are Brave introduced Ponder as one of soul music’s most compelling new voices, thanks to singles like “Someone Like You”, “Roll The Credits,” and the empowering title track. The LP earned critical acclaim along with dozens of major sync placements, including the latest Apple campaign for the iPhone 16 Pro. She’s since had four major TV appearances, including Jimmy Kimmel Live! Ponder has also sold out shows across North America and Europe, including festival appearances at Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza, Afropunk, and the Montreux Jazz Festival.
But if that album documented her arrival, Everything Has Changed documents her evolution.

Danielle Ponder is done waiting for a future version of herself to arrive. Now, the Rochester-born, Atlanta-rooted singer-songwriter is unapologetically living in the moment. This realization powers Everything Has Changed, Ponder's anticipated sophomore album (and debut on Dead Oceans in partnership with Phoebe Bridgers). The LP is Ponder’s most self-assured statement to date: it was crafted through a period of immense transformation as the beloved vocalist propelled from being a lawyer to a full-fledged musical powerhouse. That artistic freedom threads the album, as heard on lead single, “Power”, which serves as both a declaration and an affirmation for the Black diaspora. Other highlights include the revelatory “Sun and Moon”, the towering blues ballad “God of You”, and the devastatingly vulnerable “Open Windows”. Everything Has Changed dismantles the stories Ponder once told herself and finds peace in what remains—all themes that have shaped much of her journey. Music was always a constant presence throughout her life, but practicality initially took over in adulthood. While performing with her family’s band and later developing her own projects, Ponder pursued a legal career focused on criminal justice reform.

It wasn’t until her late 30s that she allowed herself to seriously imagine music as more than a side pursuit. In 2021, at age 39, she finally took the leap, leaving law behind to pursue her artistry full-time. The gamble paid off: she signed her first record deal in 2022, becoming a trailblazer on her own unusual path to worldwide renown. Her debut album Some of Us Are Brave introduced Ponder as one of soul music’s most compelling new voices, thanks to singles like “Someone Like You”, “Roll The Credits,” and the empowering title track. The LP earned critical acclaim along with dozens of major sync placements, including the latest Apple campaign for the iPhone 16 Pro. She’s since had four major TV appearances, including Jimmy Kimmel Live! Ponder has also sold out shows across North America and Europe, including festival appearances at Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza, Afropunk, and the Montreux Jazz Festival.
But if that album documented her arrival, Everything Has Changed documents her evolution.

A space is often described by its dimensions. The height of the ceiling, the expanse between walls. Division into functional elements of varying density follows. We have ideas of how such dimensions should be balanced to work well for sound — the classical concert hall, a Northward mastering room.

It’s tempting to try and use this idea of space to understand Space the group (Lisa Ullén, Elsa Bergman, Anna Lund). To calculate their cartesian co-ordinates: dynamics that run from whisper soft to punishing, shaking force; Ullén’s piano running the full expanse of the frequency spectrum; the mix of sudden, surprising and suggested variations in density (the space) that generates their musical structures.

But (a) space is a social phenomenon where meaning is accumulated and possibilities created by and through a constantly shifting set of social relations and their histories and entanglement inside and beyond the physical structures of a room or building. Reduced to its raw dimensions, Cafe OTO shouldn’t sound good: the low ceiling, the hollow void underneath the stage-not-stage, the hard glass windows out onto the street. But OTO as a social space — for gathering close to listen; the serious pursuit of a convivial good time (its productive mythology that an OTO audience is both up for it but also expects more); and then the idea of all that has happened before and what will come; that this is also part of ‘the music’ and changes what sounds to the point that none of those cartesian co-ordinates matter.**

It’s less of shock that Space sound good. Lisa Ullén is easily the most singular pianist in Sweden right now and Elsa and Anna’s ability to reroute in realtime reaffirms just how well they function as a group. The trio might have got their shit together holding down the rhythm section for the first incarnation of Anna Högberg Attack — but much like Högberg’s ongoing pursuit of artistic renewal, the trio avoid being shackled to any ideas about what a piano trio should be and there is something that happens (happened) in that room, on that night, with those people that made for something beyond just good.

It’s a gift that the sound of every concert at OTO gets recorded. A choice handful of these transcend their decoupling from that social space and radiate the room’s attendant energies. This record is one of them.

** See Jack Halberstam in Fred Moten & Stefano Harney, The Undercommons (2013): “…we must refuse the idea that music happens only when the musician enters and picks up an instrument; music is also the anticipation of the performance and the noises of appreciation it generates and the speaking that happens through and around it, making it and loving it, being in it while listening."

2026 Repress

On Left At Sunset, Tornado Wallace taps into those fragile, glowing moments after a long night in the club, when the lights come up just enough, the bass softens, and the first hint of morning slips through the windows. Time feels suspended.
The lead track Asahi Ga Yondeiru (“the morning sun is calling”) captures that feeling perfectly. Built around Courtney Bailey’s gentle vocal, it drifts somewhere between late-night house and early morning reflection. It is not about the peak. It is about what comes after it. That quiet euphoria when you realize the night gave you something you will carry back into the real world. The rest of the EP stays in that same emotional zone: warm, slightly melancholic, but full of light. These are tracks for the very last dance, when the floor is half-empty, hearts are wide open, and every sound feels a little more meaningful. Not an ending, really. Just the beginning of whatever comes next.

2026 Repress

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once upoun a time Fat Mike came up with the idea of calling up 101 of the best old and new punk rock band around, have them each record a 30-second long song, then put all the tracks out on one record to make the best punk compilation ever. And guess what, the dream came true. The 101 most famous punk rock bands around doing each a 30 seconds long song Back in print for the first time in ten years! Pressed to Lime Vinyl Features super rare songs (recorded exclusively for this compilation) by Green Day, The Offspring, Blink- 182, Pennywise, Rancid, Less Than Jake, The Vandals, Bad Religion, and more

Following on from his electric appearance on Diamonds in the Night, Tallac returns with a four‑tracker of low‑orbit elation. Tessitura blends floor‑facing energy with sleek space synths, elegant undercurrents washed in bold bars to produce a one‑of‑a‑kind sound. Drums hit hard on “Carbon Copy,” driving percussion providing the launchpad for synthlines to swoop and soar. Tempos are taken down a notch for the analogue embrace of “Kiss Me Quick.” Notes bend and flow in this smoky dreamscape, samples pulling the listener ever deeper. The rumbling kicks and hissing hi‑hats of “Pythia” are punctured by a throbbing beat; gliding above the rolling snares and luxurious breaks is a melody that thrums with palpable intensity and unbridled joy, a track made to ignite audiences. Never adhering to genre tags or style pigeonholes, Tessitura closes with “Cybersyn.” Touches of cosmic melt into late‑night glow‑stick energy, dawn’s light piercing the warehouse windows while the speakers continue to bounce blissfully.

Shape of the Unknown’ is kind of a double LP that fully embraces the idea of exploration. It is CHLOÉ’s most expansive and immersive work to date. ‘Shape of the Unknown’ is CHLOÉ’s fourth proper studio album. Its predecessor, ‘Endless Revisions’, was released in 2017. Nine years have passed. Nine years during which CHLOÉ has continued digging for music, DJing at internationally renowned clubs and festivals including Rex Club, Robert Johnson, Panorama Bar, Nuits Sonores, Glastonbury and many more, releasing EPs and remixes, while also allowing herself the time to explore entirely new creative paths.


The challenge is to capture the unknown, make it her own, endlessly reshape its textures, and ultimately preserve its mystery.


The first single ‘Drifter’, released back in June, already offered a striking glimpse of the sonic territories the album would venture into, driven by its hypnotically contoured basslines. The album's two other singles offer different windows into her world. 'Shapeshifter' captures CHLOÉ at her most hypnotic, balancing stripped-back techno and melodic house through deep rolling grooves, expansive bass chords and subtle rhythmic shifts that constantly reshape the listener's perception without ever disrupting the flow. Later, 'Repeating The Obvious' takes a more leftfield route, pairing staggered rhythms with retro-inspired harmonics and an understated indie dance pulse that feels simultaneously familiar and unpredictable.
CHLOÉ has ventured into live performance through new formats, notably alongside percussionist Vassilena Serafimova; immersed herself in film scoring with soundtracks for Paris la Blanche, Arthur Rambo, The Mountain, Blanquita, Guru and Unsubmissives; and developed compelling collaborations, from High Season, her project with Ben Shemie of Canadian band Suuns (which resulted in the album The Call), to her own organic, experimental audiovisual performances under the name Slo/Mo AV.


Throughout Shape of the Unknown, CHLOÉ blurs the boundaries between deep house, hypnotic techno, electronica and cinematic sound design with remarkable fluidity. The album unfolds as a continuous narrative rather than a sequence of tracks, moving effortlessly between beatless ambient passages, rolling analogue grooves and emotionally charged club music. Organic percussion, sweeping bass movements, melancholic harmonies and richly textured synthesisers create a body of work that constantly evolves, where no section feels static and every transition reveals another layer of depth. There is an unmistakable warmth running through the record, with grainy analogue textures and spacious production giving even its most driving moments an intimate, almost tactile quality.
The album’s title is no coincidence. It evokes a form that has yet to be named, something language itself struggles to grasp. CHLOÉ approaches it through an organic creative process. Each piece must first be performed in the studio, almost as if it were being played live. The album will be followed by a series of live performances and DJ sets, including a show at the Olympia on March 18, 2027.


She is joined by a handful of steadfast collaborators. Jazz trumpeter David Enhco appears on two tracks, ‘Undertow’ and ‘Inner Bass’. But above all, there are the voices: Ben Shemie lends his unmistakable presence to the radiant ‘More Than Just a Feeling’. Olivia Merilahti, singer, songwriter and one half of The Dø, appears on the otherworldly ‘TWYR’. Working with Olivia’s already hypnotic voice, CHLOÉ has approached it like a sculptor, enhancing its strangeness and dreamlike quality.
And finally, impossible to miss is the instantly recognizable voice of Kittin. A longtime accomplice, she lends her distinctive phrasing to CHLOÉ’s music here for the very first time. The strongest collaborations are often those that take their time, arriving only when the moment is right. Same kind, same bass, same vibe, same pride.


The result is an enigmatic, nocturnal record, drifting between introspective listening and dancefloor functionality, revealing an artist who remains far more interested in atmosphere, movement and emotional storytelling than conventional club structures. It is an album that invites us to dream more deeply and to dance again, both within ourselves and out in the open.

Truths and secrets often reveal themselves at night, under the freedom of shadowy darkness, away from prying eyes. In creating Given to the Night, sisters Valentine and Clementine Nixon have crafted a world that drifts through the in-between: between dream and reality, between day and night and the undefined, and ultimately a world that embraces the discomfort of being untethered. A process that follows simplicity and intuition rather than pre-determined narratives. “We recorded songs as they appeared, which sometimes felt like catching light. Before we realised it we had a record”, the duo explain.

While making the record Valentine and Clementine gently pushed away from the world- deleted social media, retreated into the trees of their native New Zealand - and only invited a couple of people in during the recording process. From that space, the album came together in an eerily easeful way.

There is a dream-like drift and sonic timelessness to the the record, as reflected in its nocturnal title, which can be read in two ways:

“Being taken by, or being inclined towards nighttime, preferring its blurry cloak of shadows to the harsh light of day; or giving oneself up to night, in sacrifice, letting go of fear and melting into the darkness.”

Written during a time of personal transition there was “a sense of finding the light in the shadow” they add. Guitar lines float, synth lines entwine, tapes hiss and vocals stream creating a kaleidoscopic montage of transient memories and emotions. A spectrum of feelings arise - isolation and joy, insomnia and manic highs, confusion and fleeting clarity, grief and healings. In the record, these feelings all merge and fade into one another in a nonlinear manner, as life tends to do; creating something deeply human that simultaneously gestures towards the transcendental.

The Memory

A flash of light hits your eyes. Your ears hear muffled bass. As bright white fades to amber, you find yourself in a familiar place. A place you have been to many times. Though the edges of your memory are no longer sharp, the shape of it all is in your DNA.

The smell of rusted metal, dirt-covered floors that once hosted workers, machines and industry mixed with spilled beer and the sweat of a thousand bodies moving to syncopated music. As your vision comes into focus, you’re back there.

A warehouse in the former industrial part of town. You’re surrounded by hundreds of strange but familiar faces, each of you dancing into a frenzy countless times under the moonlight — moving, jumping, laughing and connecting.

Sunlight pours through warehouse windows or appears over a distant horizon.
The DJ plays a song that completes the journey you all just shared. You are desperate to hold on to the feeling of the last song that lands you safely from the night and into a new day. The feeling is deep. Pure.
Especially when communal ecstasy is juxtaposed against the edges of the warehouse floors, the intimacy of city lofts, the spiritual nature of open fields or forests.

The Custodian

I spent just shy of two decades in spaces like that — as a raver in early 1990s Los Angeles, then a DJ, producer, label owner and head of Moulton Studios in San Francisco.
The Custodian Project is a memoir of a life lived deep inside the culture and business of house music from 1990 to when I stepped away from music as a full-time life in 2015 — told through music, stories and DJ events.
Each release of new music draws inspiration from feelings, emotions and memories of that life — different rooms, different eras. It is an exploration to understand and capture what those feelings were, and in some cases still are.

The Music

This EP is the beginning. 1990. When I first found the rave and re-ordered my DNA based on the sounds, songs and feelings of that era that can be summed up in the title track — Sunrise Through Warehouse Windows.
All three tracks here are an attempt to reach back and touch those mornings again. To put the listener back in the warehouses or open spaces where we would dance as the sun rose over the horizon.
To capture what I felt back in 1990 when the night transitioned into daybreak. Bodies moving in unison. People, places and music all connect. An era before algorithms.

(tracklisting)

A1 — Sunrise Through Warehouse Windows — 7:51
B1 — *Truly Amazing — 8:16
B2 — Sunrise Through Warehouse Windows (Floating Beatless Mix) — 4:20

Written and produced by Chris Lum for Abitare Music (ASCAP)

* Written and produced by Chris Lum - Abitare Music (ASCAP) & Jay-J Hernandez Stopped in Time (ASCAP). Originally released on Leaf Recordings 2000

A founding member of the legendary Wu-Tang Clan, Ghostface Killah is Hip Hop’s masked poet — known for his cinematic storytelling, gritty slang, and razor-sharp delivery. With classic albums like Supreme Clientele and Fishscale, Ghostface carved his name into rap history as one of the most original and consistent voices in the game. The Wait is Over. Supreme Clientele 2 is FINALLY here. The highly anticipated album is a vivid- late-night noir where every bar brought Ghost’s inner thoughts to life. From Staten Island to sold out stages worldwide.

“The music on this record is a reflection of journeys and travel. The real world kind and the metaphorical ones as well. Having experienced the arrival of my children, the decline and departure of my parents, and the many years of venturing out and returning home in my own life, travel feels like the perfect tropology to consider the mysteries we inhabit. Travel and its impressions, rituals, superstitions—the possibilities and risk-all open up onto the landscape of our biggest questions, fear and wonder.

“Two songs established the spine of this music. Songs I’ve always loved, it seems even before I’d heard them. The first one, and the source of the title is ‘You Belong to Me’ by Jo Stafford. Colonial overtones unmissable to our modern ears aside, it’s also a beautiful mid century romance—and an ode to the threat of a shrinking world. The song represents the loneliness and the mystery of being alone and left behind. The singer is not asking their loved one to shut down horizons, merely reminding them to return when the traveling is done. To set aside The Silver Plane of transition, change and the in-between for the intimacy of solid earth.

“The second song is ‘Promised Land’ by Chuck Berry. Also about a journey and another one that moves easily between allegory and narrative. The singer is on the move across segregated America trying to get to the promised land of California. The song is both a tall tale that evokes Mark Twain, and an American epic that can keep good company with Herman Melville. When the hero finally makes it to California, his first instinct is to call home and reassure the Old World that he’s safely arrived in the new one.

“The songs on Fly the Ocean in a Silver Plane were recorded at home over the last couple years. I played electric guitar, rubber bridge acoustic guitar, Ableton Live and an Electron Digitone synth. My friend Mallory Linnehan aka Chelsea Bridge contributed beautiful violin and vocals to a couple of the songs. We recorded those performances on a summer afternoon in Chicago at the Not Not space with the windows open.

“The cover is a photo of my mom—one I never saw when she was alive. With the headscarf and that excited, nervous expression, she looks about to embark on a journey. Ready, finally, to cross the tarmac and board the Silver Plane. “Wishing safe travels to all.” — Mark N / Pan•American



b DEATH CLEANING listen


b DEATH CLEANING listen


b DEATH CLEANING listen


b DEATH CLEANING [listen]


[b] DEATH CLEANING [listen]


[b] a2 DEATH CLEANING [listen]


[b] a2 | DEATH CLEANING [listen]

Various Small Whistles and a Song, the new album by Chicago-based artist Lia Kohl, incorporates notions of space, social relations, and humor. As the title suggests, the album responds to Ed Ruscha’s 1964 photographic artist book Various Small Fires and Milk, which Kohl sees as a wondrous celebration of ordinariness, one that reveals Ruscha’s trademark deadpan humor and depth. In the spirit of that publication, Kohl created her own series of sonic vignettes, with guest appearances from her close community of collaborators including claire rousay, Macie Stewart, Patrick Shiroishi, and others, reflecting the same sense of humor and mundanity.

The structure of the album—16 one-minute tracks—directly mirrors Ruscha’s book, which comprises 15 photographs of fire and one of a glass of milk. Ruscha’s “small fires” are represented here by recordings of whistles—mostly human whistling, with occasional appearances by train whistles, emergency whistles, and a woman selling penny whistles on the street in Guangzhou, China. About this choice of material, Kohl writes: “I’ve always been captivated by whistling—it’s musical but often a bit unconscious; usually solo but often done in public places. There’s something tender and human about hearing someone whistle, a socially acceptable version of hearing their mind wander.” As with Ruscha’s photographs, the whistles are not random snapshots but windows into social situations, narratives, or spaces.

The “milk” of the title — the 16th photograph in Ruscha’s book — is interpreted here as a single recording: a group of people singing together in Barcelona around 6 a.m. on New Year’s morning, captured through the floor of an Airbnb. Kohl describes this as a social, collective sound that contrasts with the solitary nature of whistling. The song functions as a counterbalance—a quiet celebration of shared experience.

Lia Kohl is a composer and sound artist based in Chicago. Her wide-ranging practice includes composition and performance, installation, improvisation, and collaboration. She tours nationally and internationally, working in theater, jazz, rock, and experimental contexts. Her work centers curiosity and patience, an exploration of the mundane and profound possibilities of sound.

Gwenan takes us on an unusual excursion on her new EP, marking the sixth release on Snaretrade Records. Through four windows, we peek into scenes from an unknown script, cleverly disguised as club fare. The A-side starts out bustling and hasty, then takes us out for a melancholy moment in the sun. The B-side has us pause at home in a little skit brewed on a modular rig, before sliding off into the depth of night, where brooding thoughts come out to show their teeth. A remarkable and playful journey, in which Gwenan pays homage to her favourite author, with nods to her youth growing up in Wales.

Parade Ground march back to Dark Entries with The Hidden Side, a compilation of B-sides and unreleased material. Brothers Jean-Marc and Pierre Pauly started Parade Ground in Brussels in 1981. Their Dada-laced brand of post-punk fuses propulsive drum machines and icy synths with skeletal guitar riffs and Jean-Marc’s distinct and powerful voice, pioneering the subgenre of emotional body music. The brothers met Daniel B. and Patrick Codenys of Front 242 in 1982, marking the beginning of an enduring collaborative partnership. In 2011, Dark Entries released The Golden Years, a compilation chronicling the band’s A-sides and exposing them to a new generation of EBM enthusiasts. The Hidden Side continues this mission, illuminating lesser-known facets of the band’s oeuvre. The tracks here were written between 1982 and 1989, and showcase Parade Ground’s range of styles - all cold, dark, and brooding. Tracks like “Riddle in the Stain Glass Window” and the previously unreleased “Looking Through Keyholes” see the band in menacing coldwave mode, rocking chorus-drenched bass guitar and blasts of analog synth. The band’s dancier proclivities shine elsewhere, like on “Off-Balance” or the supremely funky “Hollywood (The Sexiest Fish),” a floor-filler driven by bass guitar and thumping digital drum machine beats. Also included is “Marble Mind,” a previously unreleased latter-period track from the band recorded by Patrick Codenys at 242 Studio. The Hidden Side includes liner notes featuring lyrics and a photo of Jean-Marc and Pierre Pauly. Additionally, a newly remastered edition of The Golden Years will be released along with The Hidden Side.

The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology Vinyl
35 Tracks including 4 acoustic bonus songs
Never-Before-Seen 12” x 12” Poster
4 Marbled Translucent vinyl discs

Depiction of this product is a digital rendering and for illustrative purposes only. Actual product detailing may vary. Please note due to the custom manufacture process, each vinyl unit may be slightly different in coloration.

Soela is the DJ and production alias of Elina Shorokhova, a Russia-born Berlin-based experienced pianist and vocalist who has made a hugely impactful transition into electronic music. Having released material on such labels as Kompakt, Dial, Shall Not Fade, Lost Palms, E-Beamz, Red Ember Records, Sushitech, and others, Soela joins the ranks of Scissor & Thread for this exquisite album - Dark Portrait.
The album opens in a typically understated manner with Unsuitable - a melancholic trip-hop adjacent track that sets the tone for the next 8 pieces. As Soela explains, “I was dealing with some very complex feelings, so I came up with this album, which helped me not to despair, to work on myself, to grow internally, and to start listening to myself. It helped me to keep sane when my country invaded Ukraine with a full scale war. It absolutely broke my heart, and music was one of my main salvations.”
This complex mix of emotions plays out across the album with tracks that utilize her beautiful musicality (Through the Windows feat. Francis Harris and Philipp Priebe, Drowning feat. Module One) and ear for details with skittering beats, ambient soundscapes (Spirits, Lost In The Fog) and lose-yourself dancefloor moments such as the collaboration with Lawrence on February Is Not Going To Be Forever. The title track Dark Portrait combines dubby elements with affecting pads and melodic touches, while the lead single Even If I Ask You Stay delves into multiple feelings around escaping toxic situations, and battling depression. It features a powerful vocal from Soela supported by a deeply affecting arrangement. The closing track The Darkest Hour Before Sunrise brings a sense of hope and light, balancing subdued keys and strings with ethereal tones and atmospheres

That true beauty lies in the essentiality and meticulous combination of a few elements is sometimes not just a cliché. The delicate blend of Roland CR-78, acoustic guitar and dissonant organs that intertwine in Open Windows is a vivid demonstration of this. It is these few elements, now distant and hinted at and now close and deafening, that paint the backdrop of melancholic nostalgia where laconic whispers move the listener within the paintings that bear the sonic signature of Human Figures. To Daniel Lewis’ new project, which has seen its springboard through releases on the label of his friends at Frigio Records, perhaps the adjective “new” is already quite tight. He has built a very recognizable sonic tibre, an influence of producers and listeners at different latitudes of the post-punk and wave scene.

In the 8 canvases of Open Windows the folk tradition is repainted in a more contemporary guise: the sweet and sad litanies are alternated with fast and frenetic stornelli in which the combination of tradition and experimentation constitutes the stylistic signature. The open window through which the listener has the opportunity to look out in this album does not, however, give onto a natural external panorama. It projects into an inner world where introspection and silence are the only chance to grasp its sublime beauty.

Vinyl Only

Undefined 014 is crafted by dutchies only! 2 not so young youngsters under the monniker 'Young Adults' are making name in the scene. They provided 4 deep techno driven peaktime cuts. The perfect blend of minimal and techno - deep kicks, thriving subs and bleeps. As a counteract weve came up with a remix by fellow dutchie Mathijs Smit - rolling tech-house, warm vibe and crisp sounds. Enjoy this dutch delightfullness.

“I’ve always loved mistakes; it’s the hidden beauty in all art” - Andrew Weatherall


Transparent Sound are the original dons of UK electro, not exactly household names yet an act with so many under-repped classics that once you dive into their catalogue you might end up emptying your bank account on Discogs.


To save you going down this calamitous path as well as to finally, raise TS to the level of notoriety they deserve, Tresor Records is very proud to announce the release of Accidents 1994-2023. Formed by Orson Bramley and Martin Brown in Bognor Regis in 1994, Transparent Sound have managed to create 30 years’ worth of some of the best electro from the British Isles, despite claiming to not know what they were doing nor how their instruments work.


It’s likely that it’s this lack of knowledge that led to the quality and longevity of their output - the pair experiment and tinker with the machines until something pleasing appears then follow that sound
down whatever path seems fruitful: “the confidence of ignorance” as a slightly more-famous Orson, Orson Welles, once put it.

This tactic has paid o well and found them stumbling into many notable adventures, from remixing The Cure to performing during an intermission between two halves of a lecture - none of which they understood as it was in Spanish.


The compilation collects a lucky-for-you 13 of their most glorious electrical accidents on a three-disc set including the dancefloor hits Punk Mother Fucker (a mainstay of Villalobos sets at the time of release), and No Call From New York (as heard on Helena Hau’s perfect 2017 Essential Mix). The package also comes with ‘Windows To Your Sole’ from the unreleased white label Transparent Sound 007, other unreleased tracks, and special 2023 edits as well as six digital bonus tracks.

2022 Re Edition

STAREAWAY is Markus Guentner from Regensburg, of Kompakt- and Ware-fame, and Heiko Badje from Hamburg, the man behind saudade-driven pop-band La Grande Illusion. Exploring the possibilities of combining Guentners critically acclaimed adventures in ambient scapes and Badjes melodies and distinctive singing, their track 'Baghira", as an early result, was selected on Kompakts 'Pop Ambient 6 compilation in 2005. Their first EP as STAREAWAY, called 'Learn How To Love Me", was released on Hamburg-based label Couldn.t Care More in 2011 including a remix by deep house icon Osunlade crossing all borders, yet feeling so natural, and the somewhat timeless electronic pop reference 'Unwise". Now STAREAWAY come up with their first album 'No Life In This Ghost Town' (again on Couldn.t Care More); seven sketches between song and track deliberately carved from a shimmering wall of electronic sound by guitars, spiritualized voices and subtle melodies. It.s caressing and thoughtful, but there is also a darkness that makes you shiver. Glowing embers in far away windows. STAREAWAY combine a vision of sound with multitudes of micro-organisms which take turns no one can forsee. And what may appear as a mere coincidence is in fact a concentrated search. They are seekers of the things lying underneath. STAREAWAY's 'No Life In This Ghost Town' is mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri. It will be available as Double Vinyl (+ Download-Code) and, of course, digitally. Layout by JL Prozess (Markus Guentner), artwork by Claudia Kugler.

Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever return in 2022 with Endless Rooms, the Melbourne quintet's third album proper. Described by the band - comprised of Fran Keaney, Joe White, Marcel Tussie and brothers Tom Russo and Joe Russo - as them "Doing what we do best: chasing down songs in a room together", Endless Rooms stands as a testament to the collaborative spirit and live power of RBCF. While initial ideas were traded online during long spells spent separated by lockdowns, the album was truly born during small windows of freedom in which the band would decamp to a mud-brick house in the bush around 2hrs north of Melbourne built by the extended Russo family in the 1970s. There, its 12 tracks took shape, informed to such an extent by the acoustics and ambience of the rambling lakeside house that they decided to record the album there. The house also features on the album cover. For the first time, the band self-produced the record (alongside engineer, collaborator and old friend, Matt Duffy), creating their most naturalistic and expansive document yet. The result is a collection of songs permeated by the spirit of the place; punctuated by field recordings of rain, fire, birds, and wind. "It's almost an anti-concept album," say the band. "The 'endless rooms' of the title reflects our love of creating worlds in our songs. We treat each of them as a bare room to be built up with infinite possibilities."

« In Praise Of Nothing » is the debut EP of the brand new S.A.C.S 89 imprint created by Stephen & Charlou former founding members of OPAQ Records. S.A.C.S 89 stands for Society Against Conformist System and aims to defend uncompromising music. On this first record founders Charlou & Stephen provide 2 tracks each and 2 collaborations ranging from techno & EBM to synth-pop. An invitation to join their new system.

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

Over 10 years ago, Leon Michels released his first full length record, Sounding Out The City. It was Michels' first full length record under the moniker El Michels Affair. At the time, the budding retro soul scene consisted of mostly organ quartets a la The Meters and of course, Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings were in the early days of their ascent to world domination. Leon Michels, who was 18 when recording Sounding Out The City began, had just released Thunder Chicken, the first record by his high school band The Mighty Imperials. At the time of SOTC, Michels was just discovering early rocksteady, afrobeat, and 60's garage rock, which inevitably crept its way into the songwriting. He purchased a Tascam 388, an 80's 1/4" reel to reel 8 track intended for home recordings, and began recording music in a 10x10 box with no windows that also doubled as his childhood bedroom. Along with fellow Mighty Imperials Nick Movshon, Homer Steinweiss, and Sean Solomon, and Michael Leonhart, Thomas Brenneck, and some of the musicians from The Dap Kings, Michels recorded the LP over a two year period. Upon it's release, it received some rave reviews and the small deep funk community ate it up, but due to the lack luster promotion and distribution the rest of the world was slow to catch on to the instrumental gems featured on SOTC, which Michels appropriately labelled as "cinematic soul". However, in 2005 it found it's way into the hands of the people who were organizing a series of concerts for Scion that paired bands with MC's. El Michels Affair was contacted about playing one show with Raekwon The Chef of Wu Tang Clan fame. The show was such a success it led to a tour, and then to another set of concerts that featured multiple members of the Wu-Tang Clan. This eventually led to the release of El Michels Affair's second record, "Enter the 37th Chamber" which introduced them to a much larger audience and has been their most successful release to date. Michels has since gone on to produce and co-produce numerous records for powerhouse soul artists like Lee Fields. He shares songwriting credits with Adele, Jay-Z, Ghostface Killah, Aloe Blacc, and has played on records by Ray LaMontagne, Lana Del Rey, The Black Keys and Dr. John.

With Foreverglades, Miami’s independent rap cornerstone Pouya delivers a cohesive, highly anticipated body of work that serves as a gritty love letter to the Sunshine State. Moving away from the claustrophobic trap beats that defined the early SoundCloud era, Pouya steps fully into his veteran status by embracing a distinctly rich and organic Southern sonic palette. The album's title plays heavily on the Florida Everglades, signaling a destination that is both a permanent state of mind and a humid, unforgiving landscape where only the strongest survive. Over the course of 12 tracks, the project balances hazy nostalgia with modern underground rap execution, highlighting Pouya's sharp technical growth and deep roots in his hometown culture.

The production on Foreverglades is remarkably cohesive, leaning into thick basslines, melting instrumentation, and classic Southern rap influences that give the tracks a heavy, atmospheric depth. Behind the boards, the album leans on a talented collective of underground producers—including Alexis Martin, Boohmii, Esthetic Gloom, and Oleg—who construct a soundscape that is both menacingly smooth and psychedelic. Rather than relying on the frantic tempos of his early catalog, the backdrops here allow Pouya to showcase his immense vocal versatility. He flows effortlessly, seamlessly shifting from his signature rapid-fire, triplet-flow delivery to a more grounded, melodic cadence that mirrors the thick humidity of the Florida landscape.

Lyrically, Foreverglades is a self-reflective journey that finds Pouya confronting the psychological realities of a decade-long independent career. While his trademark dark humor and raw bravado remain intact, they are balanced by a vulnerable perspective on success, mortal anxieties, and the paranoia that comes with staying independent in a shifting industry. The tracklist is meticulously curated, anchored by atmospheric standouts like "Found You," "Florida Baby," "In My City," and the Rocci-assisted "Burnt Down." By anchoring the project with raw storytelling and a distinct sonic identity, Foreverglades stands as a defining moment in Pouya's discography—a project best experienced with the bass turned all the way up and the windows rolled down.

1xLP, pressed on Whirlpool colored vinyl, includes 12x12 double-sided insert.

Eighteen months on from the runaway success of The Only Place I Know — the debut that crashed in at #1 on the ARIA charts and #2 on the ARIA Vinyl Chart — Lake Macquarie's Surf Trash are back, and they're not watering it down. Their sophomore album No Chaser lands neat, on the rocks, no apologies: ten tracks of melodic surf-pop-punk hammered out by a band that has clearly spent the last year sharpening every edge.

It's a record you can hear the kilometres in. Between The Only Place I Know and now, Andrew Scott, Lachlan Jackson, Patrick Russell and Nick Scott have torn through a sold-out national run, criss-crossed the UK and Europe, and made a habit of leaving rooms louder than they found them. No Chaser carries the dust from all of it — bigger choruses, leaner production, a touch more bruise underneath the gloss. There's still that windows-down, salt-on-the-windscreen feel that made the debut impossible to ignore, but it's wired into songs that swing harder and cut deeper. Less wistful afternoon, more last-light drive home with the volume creeping up.

The four-piece make melodic surf-pop-punk that sounds great turned up loud — driving in your mate's car on the way back to the beach. Their debut, The Fire Note wrote, "delivers a dynamic debut… blending raw energy, introspective depth, and timeless indie rock flair." Manchester World called their first show on UK soil "epic… high energy and great song after great song," and the live reputation has only grown since: a band that's earned every inch of the ceiling it now hits.

No Chaser is the sound of them no longer waiting for permission. Singalong harmonies, fast tempo changes, good old-fashioned rock 'n' roll with a sense of urgency.

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

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

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

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