quête:palette knife

Carrier’s debut album features eight elegantly rude arrangements that dance in negative space between Photek’s frictional syncopations, Rhythm & Sound’s dubwise minimalism, and Torsten Pröfrock’s fractured dynamics, bolstered on two tracks by contributions from Voice Actor and Memotone, summoning a noirish, jazzier frisson to his signature metrics and temporalities.

Since hard-snagging our ears and feet in 2023 with 12”s for FELT and his own eponymous label, Guy Brewer’s Carrier has become the go-to project for anyone who had almost given up on chasing these sorts of ultra-subtle but vitally distinctive new permutations in dance music. For the past two years, his unpredictable variations within a style have kept us all tip-toed and seat-edged with organisations of a finely chiselled percussive palette and smouldering ambient noise that distils the salient aspects and spirits of D&B, dub techno, electro-acoustic music, and trip hop with unique traction. In effect, he’s enacted a clear leap of imagination from previous work issued as part of Commix and solo as Shifted that only continues to reveal hallucinatory psychoacoustics on this first album detail.

»Rhythm Immortal« sees Brewer tilt the project into slower, resoundingly more atmospheric realms, better to luxuriate in the instinctive guile and integer-stepping style ’n’ pattern of his incredible sound. At the album’s poles, a vocal cameo by cult gynoid Voice Actor follows from Gavsborg’s on a preceding 7” single to ideally model his sound’s mutability and compatibility with trip hop forms, and Memotone helps seal the deal with a hovering glow lent to »Offshore«, whilst Carrier jostles the reins throughout with masterful control of his thing, crisply purposed to the album canvas. In that context, it’s perfectly adaptable to bodies both supine or in motion, ushering a hypnagogic sway with »A Point Most Crucial«, and hingeing around the slightest interplay of 16th-note hi-hat ruffles and recoiling reverbs on »Outer Shell«, or blissfully stepping on knife-edge 2-step on »Wave After Wave«.

The album conveys a deeply personal pulse and spiritual devotion to that kind of all-tension-no-release mode typical of so much music we love – from Kode9’s earliest re-factoring of Prince to Photek’s »Ni-Ten-Ichi-Ryu«, from T++/Dynamo and Traktor’s asymmetric dynamics to Burial’s shockout debut – refactored with a rare conviction in its unspoken powers to activate the eyes-shut imagination.

Pon is Tujiko Noriko’s sixth album for Editions Mego and a further extension of her already significant body of work as both a solo and collaborative artist. Dedicated to her cat who she adopted as an infant and passed away due an accident having been born deaf, Pon is imbued with abstraction, tenderness and a deep emotional resonance.

Noriko’s palette of electronics, romantic melodies and surprising sonic details are all fully present here, and like her last full length, 2023’s Crépuscule this is an epic work, released as a 2LP by Editions Mego alongside a Japanese CD release.

The unmistakable hue of Japan hovers throughout this emotional rich landscape. Subtle field recordings and fragile, abstract motifs drift through the album, all cloaked in a warmth and humanity that only Noriko seems able to conjure.

Pon moves effortlessly between the childlike and the obscure. There are moments of deceptive simplicity where unexpected elements suddenly surface — strange voices emerge on Boku Wa Obaka, Knife of Yonder is a standout: a startling ten-minute unfolding that begins with a warm, almost Eno-esque drift before launching into a soaring mid-section and finally landing somewhere unexpectedly blues-adjacent.

Kikoeru Pon is brimming with childlike wonder — a heartfelt ballad that dissolves into domestic field recordings, including sounds of the feline for whom both the album and track are named. A quietly devastating ending that brings the personal nature of the record into sharp focus.

There is a deep sense of the human in the way Noriko embraces technology. This is far from cold abstraction; rather, Ponfeels like a colourful photo album, documenting Noriko’s inner world and instincts with remarkable intimacy. Hovering in liminal states between pop, ambient and abstraction, this is a deeply affective and moving release that reveals new surprises with each listen.

The emotional range of Noriko’s latest offering inspires hope in a world in disarray. It is both gentle and epic and one which we feel embodies the work of an artist fully at the height of her powers.

Rufus Wainwright's I'm a Stranger Here Myself - Wainwright Does Weill is a compelling tribute album that delves into the rich and complex songbook of German-American composer Kurt Weill. Known for his theatrical flair and vocal prowess, Wainwright brings a unique interpretation to Weill's compositions, which are celebrated for their fusion of classical, cabaret, and jazz elements. Premiering in May 2023 at New York City's Café Carlyle, "Wainwright Does Weill" marked Wainwright's first extensive exploration of Weill's repertoire. Rufus Wainwright’s fascination with Kurt Weill’s music goes back for decades — in his early twenties he wore out the vinyl grooves of Teresa Stratas’ famous Weill album. While Weill‘s musical influence can be heard in Wainwright‘s own songs, he had never dedicated an entire evening to singing the German musician’s songs, until now. With the Pacific Jazz Orchestra under the baton of Chris Walden, he has expanded the orchestral palette for his approach to Kurt Weill.

‘SUN SHONE’ is a multidisciplinary music and art project of Istanbul-born, Amsterdam-based Deniz Omeroglu AKA Loradeniz,. ‘SUN SHONE’ marks the arrival of her debut full-length album: eight tracks of ambient electronic music painted masterfully with a palette of synthesizers, effects, percussion and ethereal voice.

‘SUN SHONE’ was conceived in two parts: the first tracks coming spontaneously to life in the aftermath of heartbreak, with Omeroglu trusting the creative flow and using it as a method of self- healing. What was initially planned as an EP release grew into a full-length album as she spent one month consciously working on the perfect B-side to complement the music.

Omeroglu wrote, performed and produced everything on the album, drawing on her deep knowledge of music theory and production; in addition to studying classical piano in the Conservatory from an early age, she holds both a Bachelor’s degree in Composition Studies and a Masters degree in Sound Design.

Many of the compositions on ‘SUN SHONE’ centre around interplaying synth arpeggios, oscillators expertly tuned for an equal degree of menace and sweetness that balances on a knife-edge. This ambiguity is echoed lyrically across the record, with its recurring themes of love lost and memories revisited. From the spoken word of opener ‘Saint Odds’ and ‘Swimmer’ to the layered choral swells of ‘No Moon’ and the melodic hooks of ‘Brick House’, Omeroglu’s voice is central to ‘SUN SHONE’, employed with impressive versatility. At times, it feels simultaneously fragile and powerful, perhaps nowhere more so than in the yearning swells of “Cloud Sofa’, a healing lullaby for lost love that offers up one of the most delicate moments on the album. 


Whilst this may loosely be referred to as an ‘ambient’ album, Loradeniz’s knowledge of modern day production techniques and experience as both a sound designer and seasoned DJ (both in clubs and on radio) makes its presence felt throughout; echoes of Artificial Intelligence-era IDM appear in the dancing arpeggios and rhythmic pulses of ‘Sea Serpent’ and ‘Waterbear’, while the album closer ‘Aftersun’ could easily be imagined working as the euphoric last tune of a club set at sunrise. 


With her debut album, Loradeniz weaves together an impressive breadth of styles and sounds, all held seamlessly together by a feeling; a cathartic desire to bring out all the melancholia from within. The album opens with the words ‘The search of love continues in the face of great odds’ a suitable mantra for a record that manages to combine melancholy with intense rushes of positivity and hopes for the future.

Following their acclaimed debut album The Shedding of Skin (2022), the formation has deepened their relationship through numerous live jams, intense touring and story sharing, pushing both their skills and the boundaries of the project. For its successor, État Coupable, this growth has been enriched by various collaborations, including one with Lebanese-Canadian producer Radwan Ghazi Moumneh (Jerusalem in My Heart).

The first single, Freedom, Asshole, features live drums by Spooky-J from Nihiloxica. With lead vocalist Saif singing, 'I envy you because you can close your eyes, you can choose,' the track addresses those who need to be addressed in the Western world, resulting in a gutwrenching piece of raw electronica that delves into the very definition of freedom. Alongside the launch of the record , the single will be released on Bandcamp and other streaming platforms on Wednesday, January 29.

A series of live dates have been announced including gigs at Ment Festival (SL), Rewire (NL), Donau Festival (AT) and dunk!festival (BE) among others.

Belgian multidisciplinary artist and long time collaborator of the project, Youniss Ahamad, has shared a that embodies unease through distorted images, a black-and-white palette, and abstract bird loops.

“For me ‘Freedom, Asshole’ is about fighting for freedom even when everything seems bleak”
– Youniss Ahamad

Producer, designer, publisher, filmmaker, all-round scene phenom - Lasse Marhaug returns with his first album since relocating from Oslo to the Arctic Circle, surveying his 35-year career for a set of grizzled, doom-pocked rhythms and foghorn drones pulled from the aether. Expansive and hard to categorise, it's a precision-tooled set of ice-cold tonal productions that heavily lean into Mika Vainio’s rhythm experiments, with extra levels of growling bass and curious noises to send us deep into the uncanny.

Lasse Marhaug has put his mark on literally hundreds of albums - working with artists like Jenny Hval, Merzbow, Jim O'Rourke, Kevin Drumm, Hilary Woods - so many others - yet he still regards himself as a primarily visual artist who got diverted into an occasionally different path. If his last album 'Context' was a kiss goodbye to decades of life in Oslo, 'Provoke' turns a new page, but one that draws heavily from memories of the distant past, reflecting on the way the topographies of Norway's frozen north helped shape his creative worldview. Weaving electronics into environmental recordings captured in the bleak Arctic winter, the album was mixed during the Polar night season, when, for two straight months, the sun never rose past the horizon. Somehow, even at its bleakest, Marhaug avoids the usual aesthetic signifiers for this kinda thing, finding elements of queered beauty in all the severity, juxtaposing elements that shine a bright light on all the odd spaces in-between.

A consideration of noise music's place in 2024, and whether it can still be a tool for subversion when its aesthetics have been so commodified, ‘Provoke’ also refernces an experimental '70s Japanese art magazine that attempted to define a new language for photography. Operating somewhere between these two guiding poles, Lasse feels his way through a subtly altered mode of expression, a new approach to familiar concepts. Album opener ‘Plates’, for example, gives it the full Ø treatment, like some exceptional ‘Oleva’-outtake, but , eventually, shards of interference start to exhale like horses blowing, creating uncanny sensations that hit through ambiguous feeling rather than sheer noise terror. Ritualistic, corporeal - hard to know what you’re listening to and why it makes you feel that certain way - so much more than just machine cycles optimised for their ultimately hollow brutalist aesthetic.

Marhaug paints vivid pictures from a carefully chosen palette, drawing us into a soundworld that's rich with contradictions and contrasts. Even the relatively deafening 'New Topographics' offsets its wall of distortion with a muffled, perforating kick drum, cutting into the noise like a knife through butter. And all of this preparation makes the album's lengthy centrepiece 'Monochrome Head' even more impactful; hinging on a Pan Sonic-like alloy of bass and drums, the track snowballs through tempered feedback and improv scrapes and whistles that pick up into an orchestral din. Marhaug accents the bluster with rhythmic hums that gather in momentum until they're almost oppressively heavy, as if everything's about to collapse.

A masterclass in quietly subversive world-building, 'Provoke' invites us to peer at an expansive sonic landscape and marvel at its intricacies, but this time around there's a Lovecraftian behemoth lurking somewhere beneath its icy surface.

Frozen reeds presents the only recorded duo playing of two legendary musical figures. Derek Bailey and Paul Motian – two longstanding pioneers of distinct strains of improvised music – came together for a brief period of collaboration in the early 1990s. Tapes of their two known live performances (one at Groningen’s JazzMarathon festival in the Netherlands, the other a year later at New Music Cafe, NYC) were recently unearthed in the Incus archives, and their contents will surprise and delight fans of both supremely idiosyncratic musicians.

The Groningen concert (1990) is released on vinyl, while the New York date (1991) is included with the digital download, free of charge for all purchasers. A conversation between Bill Frisell and Henry Kaiser on Bailey, Motian, their intertwined backgrounds, and the significance of these recordings is included as sleeve-note insert.

“This is one of those moments that we’re always hoping for, and it's so rare. And it's so hard to talk about, because it's so beautiful. It's like you're seeing some new species of plant that you never knew existed or something.” – Bill Frisell

Each player bringing decades of crucial experience to their encounters – with histories taking in vast swathes of the development of jazz and free improvisation – these fleeting shared moments provide some of the most riveting playing in the career of either.

There is precious little recorded evidence of Motian as a free improviser, but his mastery is beyond any doubt in these recordings. From knife-edge precision to textural haze, Motian’s palette is astounding, but perhaps even more impressive is his confidence in the non-idiomatic conversation itself. Pushing far beyond the established vocabulary of free percussion, his playing allows a measured degree of repetition to take form, giving rise to almost song-like structures. The covert influence of the drummer’s work on the post-rock genre (just taking its first nascent steps in the early 1990s) is made overt here.

In turn, Bailey allows some of his most unashamedly melodic passages to unfold without a mote of his trademark contrariness or antagonism. Patterns that would be acerbically disrupted elsewhere are allowed to settle, with variations of note and timbre introduced more gradually than is typical of his playing. When forceful changes in dynamics or tone do arrive, they do so in such close tandem with Motian’s rhythmic and textural transitions as to beggar belief. The guitarist’s duos with percussionists (Jamie Muir, Han Bennink, John Stevens…) arguably provide some of the highlights of his discography. ‘Duo in Concert’ represents a strong addition to the list.

An elegant sense of construction pervades the sets, as the duo ably fulfil the promise of free improvisation: carving out hugely compelling, expertly balanced, and thrillingly paced music as if from thin air.

Knifeplay's sophomore full-length, and first ever studio album Animal
Drowning is a sprawling landscape of shoegaze and lofty slowcore
The album finds the band in a blend of folk instruments, walls of distortion,
orchestral strings and delicate vocals, all carefully organized by Philadelphia
engineer/ producer Jeff Zeigler, known for his work with Nothing, Kurt Vile, and
more.
Though their sonic palette is vast, Knifeplay craft a cohesive aesthetic to carry
frontman TJ Strohmer's thematically heavy songwriting, which touches on loss of
all kinds against the backdrop of a nihilistic world. These songs cry out with
urgency no matter their ever-varied tempo and dynamic, each painting a unique
vignette of tragedy. Yet the band's dense, meticulously composed
instrumentation exudes beauty, creating a lightness to balance the subject
matter.
With Animal Drowning, Knifeplay goes deeper into the sonic experimentation and
brutally honest lyricism so beloved on their early bedroom recordings, creating an
enrapturing experience that deftly builds on previous work.

Point B Biog 2018
Starting out on legendary Electro label SCSI AV and Orson Records in the mid noughties, Point B began to earn himself a reputation through his intense dance floor-focussed EPs and pensive, experimental long players. By sewing together influences ranging from 70s sci-fi films to traditional middle eastern music, he wove a unique sonic fabric. Later that decade and after absorbing the waves of dubstep and post-garage that washed up on the shores of South London, his sound matured into something that can deliver club euphoria and introspective melancholy.

With his last commercial release back in 2014, a four year hiatus passed whilst he worked on other music projects. During that time he built up a collection of handcrafted synth patches, some of them employing modular synthesis techniques. The ensuing sketches formed the basis of his latest work: Smash Hits. This is arguably Point B's most direct and focussed record to date. Opting for a techno template, he consciously kept the sound palette narrow, concentrating his efforts on the groove, energy and production fidelity. This is a statement record that demonstrates his creative control and programming playfulness.