Buscar:abstract thought

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

Reconfiguring the notion of bridge building on a multitude of terms, it feels fitting that the tenth and final installment of Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, was co-created by an artist whose work featured in the first suite of LPs issued by Brian Eno’s Obscure Records in 1975, the groundwork toward which Decay Music’s own efforts nod. Since that auspicious debut, “New and Rediscovered Musical Instruments” — his split with Max Eastley — David Toop has been regarded as a pioneer in British experimental and improvised music: a sonic voyager who has continuously challenged the sources and materiality of sound through rigorously thoughtful performances, a vast catalog of recordings, and a steady flow of highly influential texts. Be it as a member of Alterations, his group breaking group with Peter Cusack, Terry Day, and Steve Beresford that ran between 1977 to 1986, or through is noteworthy work with artists like Rie Nakajima, Thurston Moore, Paul Burwell, Rhodri Davies, Lee Patterson, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Akio Suzuki, Elaine Mitchener, and numerous others, collaboration has always played a central role within Toop’s singular practice, but few can claim the sprawling sense of beauty and intimacy that’s achieved by “And I Entered Into Sleep”, his first recorded outing with Sergio Armaroli.

A composer, percussionist, vibraphonist, and multidisciplinary artist, Armaroli has been issuing radical and forward-thinking musical gestures for decades, working as one of Italy’s most noteworthy interpreters of composer’s like Giacinto Scelsi, John Cage, Franco Evangelisti, Giancarlo Schiaffini, and Walter Branchi, as both a solo performer and member of the highly regarded Rib Trio, as well as forging a singular practice as a composer, intertwining his efforts as a painter, concrete percussionist, fragmentary poet and sound artist, within a total art, rooted “within the language of jazz and improvisation” as an “extension of the concept of art”. Like Toop, Armaroli’s career has been populated by many collaborators, notably with Riccardo Sinigaglia, Alvin Curran, and Walter Prati, among others, setting the stage for a remarkable meeting between the pair.

Featuring Armaroli on vibraphone and prepared vibraphone and Toop on electronics, “And I Entered Into Sleep” is “a sonic journey, a Proustian suggestion à la Recherche, into the unconscious between electronic and acoustic sounds”. Using a bell that sounds at the beginning of Proust’s “À la Recherché du Temps Perdu”, which reappears more than 3,000 pages later — signaling a transition of phases, as well an auditory trigger of memory — as a departure point, as an association to the percussive vibraphone pulses that thread the album’s two sides, the pair weave a striking interior world of immersive psychological depth. Feeling almost subaquatic at times, like captured glimpses of rumbling, shadowy ecosystems lost within murky ambiences, before washing ashore in a series of pointillistic, highly detailed alien landscapes of the mind, each artist’s markedly different sound-sources, and treatment of the subsequent material elements, dance in abstract grace, incorporating subtle nods to minimalism, free jazz, and musique concrète within its seamless total form of sparse texture and tone.

Easily one of the most striking and memorable releases by either artist to appear in recent years, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep” traverses uncharted realms at the borders of literary reference, sound art, ambience and abstraction through delicately musical sounds, revealing new depths at every turn. Issued as the tenth and final album in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Hamburg-born composer, pianist and producer Niklas Paschburg announces his latest project, 'Mexican Alps' EP due for release on July 11th. 'La Hormiga' is a rhythmic exploration of life in motion. Pulsing beats and textured synths create forward momentum, echoing the journey through the winding paths of Oaxaca's mountainous surroundings, where tradition and nature intertwine. 'Mexican Alps' combines inspirations gathered from the picturesque mountains of southern Mexico and the majestic peaks of the Swiss Alps. The EP is a mesmerizing journey through those landscapes; drawing inspiration from nature's grandeur and the vibrancy of Día de los Muertos, Niklas blends electronic textures, atmospheric samples, and innovative instrumentation to create a soundscape that is both grounding and transcendent. Without relying on his signature piano, this EP explores new creative territories, evoking deep emotional resonance and moments of introspection. -- If his first album, 'Oceanic '(2018), was conceived as an ode to the Baltic Sea, for his next release, 'Svalbard' (2020), produced with Andy Barlow of Lamb, the Hamburg-born musician, now a Berliner by adoption, sought refuge on an island in the Arctic Ocean, surrounded by snow, ice, darkness and breathtaking landscapes. This time, however, the setting is completely different. "It all started with an invitation to play at a festival in Oaxaca," Niklas says. "Since I had never been to Latin America, I began considering how to take advantage of the opportunity to stay for a while and write something there. I started looking for houses, but I quickly realized it was almost impossible to find one with a piano—it's not a common instrument in Mexican culture. I thought, why not try immersing myself in a writing process that doesn't involve one? I was so excited about the idea that I jumped in." 'Mexican Alps' is the result of a challenge in which Paschburg harnessed his collection of synths and effects to create an ambient-electronic record. On the one hand, an evolution of the work primarily carried out in 'Svalbard' and 'Panta Rhei'; on the other hand, an episode in its own right, distinct from its predecessors due to the absence of the piano and the greater role played by improvisation, by coincidence, it became his first work created without his signature instrument. "Not having the opportunity to write chords, harmonies, and everything else on the piano, I improvised more, focusing on the sound. This was the approach I used to record demos in Mexico, which I then brought with me to Switzerland, where I carried on working on the EP. In addition to my usual setup (the OB-6 by Dave Smith and Tom Oberheim and the OP-1 by Teenage Engineering, plus my ever-beloved Hohner accordion, inherited from my grandfather), I was also guided by the purchase of a new Moog Matriarch with a unique delay. All this helped me build the sound I had in mind: a spacious, abstract, 3D sound that is definitely immersive." He expands. It is an emotional landscape that translates into music. In some of the tracks, Paschburg has also included field recordings collected during the Día de los Muertos, a deeply felt Mexican holiday: "A great celebration, a colorful parade of skeletons, skulls, flowers, and decorated altars, so engaging and intoxicating that I felt compelled to use its sounds in my music." It was precisely from this blend of influences that the fourth track, "Oaxaca de Juárez", emerged—a single characterized by a catchy funk procession and enhanced by the guitar work of Tal Arditi, a rising European jazz artist and singer-songwriter based between Basel and Berlin. 'Mexican Alps' is his new calling card, featuring an enveloping sound crafted by Paschburg in collaboration with Gijs van Klooster, who mixed the EP in a studio specifically designed for Atmos music. Mastering was handled by Bo Kondren at Calyx Studio in Berlin.

Relay For Death is the noise project of the twin sisters Roxann and Rachal Spikula. Their hermetic works consistently reflect a bleak nihilism, all the while carving an autonomous space for survival as the rest of the existence crumbles. Previous works have been published by Hanson, No Rent, Total Black, and RRRecords.

The twins offered the consideration that "Mutual Consuming comes from a concept in the philosophies that underpin traditional Chinese medicine theory, where the two opposing states (yin and yang) are 2 states on a continuum and their interactions produce an infinite possible number of states of aggregation. Within this interplay, there is a dynamic balance that is maintained by a constant adjustment of their relative levels. So an excess of yin consumes yang and vice versa." We asked if this has anything to do with the concept of the Ouroboros, to which they responded, "we hadn't thought about Ouroboros, but the eternal cycle of things makes sense too. The gorge fest of existence." Does this relate to previous works? The twins concisely respond to that question in a rare interview in Untitled, "No."

Mutual Consuming is a dire piece of isolationist thrum, spectral caterwaul, and heavy gloom through an oblique and abstracted coupling of electronics, noise, and ominous field recordings. As immersive as Thomas Köner’s haunting ambience but fully entrenched in the industrial meditations of MB. Originally published as part of the instantly out of print boxset, On Corrosion - a 10 cassette anthology from 2019 that was housed in a handcrafted wooden box and featuring full albums from Kleistwahr, Neutral, Pinkcourtesyphone, Alice Kemp, She Spread Sorrow, G*Park, Relay For Death, Francisco Meirino, Fossil Aerosol Mining Project, and Himukalt. The collection stood as the 50th release for The Helen Scarsdale Agency.

The hypnagogic haze of purling, refractive dub is strong on Sleepdial’s debut for West Mineral, introducing a crafty new name to the scene after a teasing preview on that Peak Oil x NWAQ radio show, delivering a heavy-lidded dose of tattered ambient dub inversions.

Sleepdial chases a frayed thread of thought thru the fractal echo chambers of ‘RV Lights’, only their 2nd full-length under this alias, and first on vinyl. The 9-part album is optimised for getting smudged on sunny daze with its pursuit of elusive dub sprites that connote subaquatic or vaporous etheric themes in their elemental diffusions and world-building ecologies.

In equilibrium of ambient and dub-as-method, they tenderly tease the senses with a fine grasp of deferred gratification, oscillating abstract spatial navigations and ephemeral moments of heart-in-mouth euphoria. Where sometimes this stuff can err to a pleasant mess, the dub ballast here anchors proceedings in a rugged groove that really pushes the right buttons and elevates the whole thing in its own air.

Blessed with a compelling sensuality, tracks follow a course from the compressed contrails of ‘Purview’ to the helical shapes of ‘Dovetailing’ and thru beautifully pill-bellied sensations on ‘Icarus Rising’, into ruggeder, insectoid dub in ‘Blue August’ to short circuit agitated and soothing feels. That fractured sort of duality manifests at its most anxious yet enchanted in the unpicked strings and astral scree of ‘Lightplay’, and in the title and feel of ‘Lean Angst’, gently keeping heads on toes into the swirling pressure system of album sign-off ‘Airtank’.

The Tower is the third studio album by Norwegian hard rock band Vulture Industries. Originally released by Season of Mist on February 24, 2017, the vinyl edition has been sold out for years and sought after by many fans. Known for their mix of progressive metal, dark rock, and theatrical elements, the album continues the band's exploration of complex and atmospheric soundscapes. It combines intricate, sometimes dissonant riffs with elements of black metal, post-punk, and art rock, often switching between atmospheric, melodic sections and more aggressive, intense passages. Lyrically, the album delves into themes of personal conflict, societal decay, and existential despair. The title track, "The Tower," captures the essence of the album with its metaphorical exploration of isolation and oppression. The lyrics are abstract and poetic, inviting listeners to reflect on the human condition and the psychological weight of modern life. The album's concept is built around these dark, thought-provoking themes, creating an immersive experience. Critically, The Tower was praised for its ambitious and multi-faceted approach, with many highlighting its blend of progressive structures and emotional depth. It marked a progression for Vulture Industries in terms of musical maturity, as they refined their sound and further distanced themselves from traditional metal tropes. The album resonated with fans of avant-garde metal, drawing attention for its blend of challenging music and poetic, introspective lyricism.

Doomed Utility is the debut album by Alex Wang, a bass-heavy, noisy, and abstract work that blends industrial and club music into an unsettling soundscape.

Sound existed before there were human ears to hear it—ancient and eternal, as silence itself. In the first few hundred thousand years after our cosmos was born, a deep hum traveled through a plasma of hot particles, eventually finding its way into our machines. Now, computers weave a web of sound around us, abstracting from meaning, pleasure, or melody, crafting disharmonies that dig into us raw.

In Doomed Utility, that primordial hum resurfaces—fractured, raw, and discordant—pulling us into rhythms of exhaustion, exhilaration, and annihilation.

This is a sound that doesn’t merely enter us; it claims us. It lingers, waits—hungry. It tears through cognition and rips through bodies. We may have no obvious use for it, but it has a use for us.

Computer sound perpetuates itself through our ears, our thoughts, and our human culture. It recalls all things, binds all things, moves all things. We are its resources, its vessels for messages not yet decoded, and for purposes yet unknown.

Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”

Julek ploski’s ‘Give up Channel’ is on mappa. It’s the follow-up to the Poland-based FL Studio demon’s ‘Hotel *’, released via Orange Milk in 2023.

It’s an album that wrestles against a shadow self. It’s about shelter from the hailstorm of unwanted memories and guilt pangs and serrated blades of thought. It’s about clinging on to some semblance of hope, knuckles taut and teeth gritted.

The fragmented drift of opener ‘Naysayer’ flows forward like an anxious daydream, pad eddies and piano plinks anchored by Trapaholics drops and bursts of guaracha drums. It’s a mess of mind: the bleakness of ‘Truth’ is punctuated by gun cocking and bullet spray and sudden jester-like blasts of unhinged, schizo-whimsical melody. An internal war without a clear winner.

Shame snakes through this music like venom through an emaciated body. Blue screenlight in a dark bedroom, pulsating temples, lockjaw. ‘Titanic’ hits like the thrashing resistance of a being built for love grappling against the scalding vengefulness it’s forced to contend with, the song’s abstracted rave synths giving way to warped voices and spiralling derangement. ‘Hollywood’ is a scarred battleground, the martial bludgeoning of a tightly wound hardstyle stomp blistering and shredding a delicate piano-and-string arrangement.

This music is about deep solitude, a meditation on simmering, slow-marinating hatred. But it’s ultimately about prevailing. It doesn’t revel in negativity, it roils and twists and writhes against it. Dots of light in oppressive darkness. Clarity and purpose against chaos and filth. It’s a struggle worth waging.










h I Was #AllAlone Movements V - VIII
[i] Economy [Movements I - IV]

We Will Be Wherever The Fires Are Lit, a sort of sequel to Tashi"s first DC release Stateless, takes the torch and storms forward, with ten improvised acoustic guitar anthems. These musical thoughts are torn from the fabric of Tashi"s life and music. "Strumming in opposition to the towers" (as he puts it) is part of an existence that is always political, even in its most abstract iterations - a truth laid bare in these deep, raw performances.

we will be wherever the fires are lit, a sort of sequel to Tashi"s first DC release Stateless, takes the torch and storms forward, with ten improvised acoustic guitar anthems. These musical thoughts are torn from the fabric of Tashi"s life and music. "Strumming in opposition to the towers" (as he puts it) is part of an existence that is always political, even in its most abstract iterations - a truth laid bare in these deep, raw performances.

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”

Fera’s trajectory sticks out like a sore thumb, you need to invest time, carefully divided between body & mind, to truly take a deep dive into his audacious output. After the acclaimed ‘Stupidamutaforma’ and ‘Corpo Senza Carne’, Fera is back with ‘Psiche Liberata’, an oblique, imperfect and broken record, in other words, exactly the type of magical voyage you want to be on. The mind, finally liberated.

Fera is Andrea De Franco, electronic composer from Southern Italy now residing in Bologna, also known for his work as visual artist/designer and member of the Undicesimacasa collective. His musical cosmos is profound and imaginative, intergalactic atmospheres that condense fragmented IDM, scintillating textures, distorted synthscapes, crunchy technoid rhythms and swirling abstractions that weave gently, sometimes moody and stark, more often celestial and awe-inspiring.

Mixed in Berlin by Steve Scanu ‘Psiche Liberata’ encapsulates Fera’s dense and intricate thought process in contrast with his simple and direct approach to writing and recording that finds its more natural output in his rapturous live sets where a mono signal runs through a few analog pedals transforming instantly into menacing alien grooves and fluid ecstasis.

Like ‘Psiche Liberata’s artwork, hand-drawn by Fera, every detailed miniature leads to a single cell of sound, tracks collide against each other in a psychotic kaleidoscope where every safe space is confronted with subsequent noise, alterations or interruptions. The black terror of ‘Celestial Anacusma’ is followed by the space-jazz banquet of ‘Milk Tears In The Hug Chamber’ doped up cyber Sun Ra extravaganza featuring Laura Agnusdei and Luigi Monteanni (Artetetra) on saxophones and flutes; ‘Silenzio Solare’ sprinkles Mille Plateaux era minimalism all over hallucinations, while ‘Diluvia’ crosses industrial acid with perpetual motion; title track ‘Psiche Liberata’ murmurs mechanically, a downtempo drifter for the wide-eyed 7AM comedown: ‘Simulacrima’ melts Boards Of Canada’s mellow pastoralism with dystopian meta-level dreamland and ‘Riposa’ showcases an overwhelming melancholy executed with elegance in a slo-mo world where the ineffable transcends notions of ambient and becomes a warm embrace.

Created on a Monotribe, MS20 & Volca Sample/fm, ‘Psiche Liberata’s velvet heaviness was achieved by re-amping many of the instruments through a Leslie Rotary Speaker and a reel-to-reel Telefunken. Fera’s sonic tapestry is in constant flux, underlying themes of love longing and affection run through the record but in a turbulent, volcanic, unleashed fashion, almost on the brink of utter noise or complete silence, reminding us that this is an artist like no other amidst the ever changing electronic scene. These are transmissions from the gutter, where the inevitable meets the unattainable and collapses.

"Fera’s tarnished materials are destined for ruin; “Stupida,” full of longing and regret, sounds like an elegy for a fallen world." Pitchfork

"A cut of dark magic that fits like a glove to overcast days, wild winds and lashing rains. Insistent, the treacle-thick bassline oozes out, soaking the space between the melancholic synth lines." Inverted Audio

"The songs on Stupidamutaforma feel hypnotizing...it establishes De Franco as a composer who uses space and time to create a set of rich, immersive works." Bandcamp 'Album Of The Day'

On her sophomore album "Germ in a Population of Buildings", upsammy moves through her surroundings with the curiosity of a place-bending landscape architect. The album is rooted in her interest for ambiguous environments in constant shift, and the feeling of discovering strange patterns in different ecosystems. Often, the Amsterdam-based artist finds herself zooming in and out beyond a place's most recognizable surface features to inhabit the microscopic and gigantic. Gathering field recordings and evocative environmental sounds, she shapes this source material into vibrating electro-acoustic rhythms and unstable, psychedelic textures. upsammy's debut album, 2020's critically-acclaimed "Zoom", was praised for its careful reimagining of IDM, evolving vignettes that nodded towards the dancefloor without being shackled to its rigid set of rules. On "Germ in a Population of Buildings" her process has evolved considerably; the skeletal trace of IDM is still present but it's been trapped in amber, allowing her unique sonic landscape to develop organically. 'Being is a Stone' is a proof of concept in many ways, layering upsammy's contorted voice in rickety patterns beneath a lattice of fragile rhythms and faintly melancholy synths. It's never immediately obvious where the sounds are coming from - a hiccuping beat might be glass cracking underfoot, and larger pulses could be wet concrete, rusted iron or bent plastic. As the sounds develop they morph into each other, demolishing what came before and building on top of the ornamental wreckage. On the dynamic 'Constructing', upsammy's sound design fluxes through hyperactive bass music structures, abstracting expectations at every turn. Often her sounds are whisper quiet, rattling and vibrating until heavier masonry drops and disrupts the structure. And when discernible rhythms subside into the background, like on the album's eerie title track, they become almost illusory, morphing between the real world and the electronic. upsammy's processed voice works like a bridge between these realms, snaking between stark, whimsical melodies on 'Patterning', arching from AutoTuned detachment into cooing, dreamy intimacy. By considering the harmonies between each location she's visited, upsammy has been able to build a unique topology that's an uncanny digital amalgam of her lived experience. It's a thoughtful alternative in an era more concerned with flatting the landscape than crumpling it and examining its peaks and troughs.

Panoram makes soundtracks for daydreams gone sideways. Picture the scene: an afternoon nap with the television on, quietly, in the corner; snatches of conversation drift in through the open window. Wandering, half-formed thoughts take unexpected detours; before you know it, there’s a movie playing out against closed lids, the colors bright, the characters unfamiliar. Accidental rhythms, incidental melodies, imitations of life, messages in code.

Across 17 fragmentary, sketch-like tracks, Panoram carves a labyrinthine path in which nothing is what it seems: a fantasy world of breathy vox pads, faux guitar, detuned synths, bursts of flute and orchestral percussion, and even the occasional cheeky cartoon sample. It’s chillout music with a chilly edge, ambient with a darkly ironic undertone. (The briefest glance at your news outlet of choice should be enough to confirm that the title—Great Times—ought to be taken with a healthy dose of skepticism.)

Panoram has been making music under his principal alias for more than a decade now, releasing albums on labels like Firecracker, Running Back, and his own Wandering Eye. (He has also performed and recorded with Amen Dunes, and has co-production credits on Amen Dunes’ forthcoming Sub Pop album Death Jokes.) Panoram’s output has ranged widely, taking in abstract pop, classical composition, twisted takes on library music, and cyborg funk. One record of “bio-acoustic transmissions” came with a cannabis leaf pressed in clear wax; his 2021 album Pianosequenza Vol. 1 gathers his experiments on the Yamaha Disklavier. But Great Times offers the truest picture yet of a project that has never been easy to pin down.

Loath to overshare details about his personal life, Panoram instead lets the music do the talking, using his cryptic tracks to express the slipperiest sorts of ideas—the thoughts that take root where anxiety, distraction, and the most fleeting traces of grace commingle. Panoram’s approach flies in the face of contemporary ambient orthodoxy, with its emphasis on immersion and uplift. Great Times expresses something thornier, more difficult to translate, yet also more tantalizing to contend with. Its 17 tracks offer a chance to get lost—and an invitation to remain in the maze as long as you like.

"Listen to This." As the original working title for Bitches Brew, the instruction and invitation resonates to this day as the best way to approach a record that shattered conventions, altered music history, and, more than five decades after its original release, still sounds far ahead of its time. The aural Mount Rushmore of jazz fusion, Bitches Brew is rightly ranked by virtually every significant outlet among the 100 greatest albums ever made in any genre. Sewn together with vibrant colours, voodoo textures, and ethereal moods, the 1970 landmark emerges with supreme detail on Mobile Fidelity's definitive 180g 33RPM 2LP set.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on 180g vinyl at RTI, this numbered-edition version of Bitches Brew joins the audiophile ranks of other essential Miles Davis sets reissued by Mobile Fidelity. Having established new possibilities for studio-recording techniques, the record can now be experienced to maximum degree by way of a pressing that widens and deepens the soundstage, opens up separation between instruments, and broadens the dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Davis conceived Bitches Brew by having the musicians stand in a semi-circle, where he pointed at them with vague directions for tempo, solos, and cues. The collective improvisation and interplay spawned a galaxy of melodies and grooves later spliced together by producer Ted Macero. On this reissue, these creations take shape with utmost realism. Compositions stretch across black backgrounds and paint abstract canvasses on par with those of Axis: Bold As Love and Abraxas. Juxtaposed percussion, loose jams, and melodic segues explode with impressionistic verve.

And "verve" defines Bitches Brew. Gathering a Hall of Fame-worthy lineup of musicians and tweaking it according to his desires, Davis follows through on his idea to "put together the greatest rock and roll band you ever heard." Central to his proposition is the presence of two (and sometimes three) drummers and two bassists, a tactical move that thrusts rhythms into central focus. Akin to the futuristic album cover art, the drum-driven suites head toward distant universes and uncharted territories. At once hypnotizing and grooving, they chart maverick adventures with quixotic rock, funk, and R&B elements.

Conceptually, Davis described Bitches Brew as "a novel without words" and "an incredible journey of pain, joy, sorrow, hate, passion, and love." The vast psychedelic expanses of warped echoes, liquid reverb, and tape loops confirm such ambitious contrasts of light and dark, fear and hope. Yet the most absolute characteristic of this watershed effort lies in how it resists definitive interpretation and encourages free thought — the very principles with which Davis conceived the everlasting beauty and fascination that remain Bitches Brew.

"A spiraling and winding descent into arcane black metal pandemonium! Sounding both modern and timeless at the same time, they unleash some serious throwback Celtic Frost/Darkthrone/early Mayhem vibes while projecting its hideous aura straight into the future with a shape-shifting approach to songwriting that can’t be called anything different but “prog”, while also throwing in the mix some unexpected ambient passages and improvisational liturgic abstractions ( that yield a result of constant motion and disorienting unpredictability, as if we were facing a European version of Negative Plane or a more experimental reinterpretation of the arcane mysticism of Mortuary Drape.

All in all if you are looking for black metal with a touch of timelessness and with classic heavy metal influences mixed with a keen sense of experimentalism then KVELGEYST definitely represents one of the strongest expressions of this school of thought in black metal that’s been seen in a long time." ~ CVLT NATION

Gatefold Sleeve / 180g Vinyl

Returning to the well of Roger Doyle once again, his “Babel” project spans a decade of composition work before its’ initial release in 1999 as a 5CD set. Over 100 pieces and almost 50 collaborators it marks a journey through a virtual tower of Babel with each piece corresponding to a room within an imagined giant tower city. For the 25th Anniversary vinyl edition Doyle has revisited it- remastering it and providing its first vinyl edit - 80 minutes spread across two 180gm LP’s - rounding out the package with extended liner notes and a download code to the full 6 hours.

We’ve previously explored Roger’s Operating Theatre days and the idea for this project came in the early nineteen eighties while Doyle was heavily involved with the experimental theatre group. Working with emerging technologies and across a variety of genres he realised that he would be unlikely to achieve an overarching compositional style. Instead deciding to make a virtue out of the fact that he composed so schizophrenically, he wished to create a musical alphabet out of short abstract sounds with these sounds being analogous to phonemes in speech. With Blade Runner and sci-fi embedded in the zeitgeist of the times he came to the idea of the Tower of Babel as both a futuristic skyscraper and also an embodiment of language.

In the spring of 1990 Babel was finally begun and kept growing until it reached over 6 hours of music and was released in 1999.A large-scale musical structure making use of many technologies and music languages, with each piece of music being thought of as a 'room' or place within an enormous tower city. Each track in the main section corresponds to a virtual sonic architecture. The pieces are divided into two kinds: aural representations of actual spaces like The Dressing Room, The Stairwell and Mr. Brady's Room alongside internalised dream spaces like the Room Of Rhetoric, the Spirit Levels and the Mansard childhood memory room. Listeners can navigate their way differently through this virtual building at each hearing. As a supplement to the Babel Tower KBBL - the fictitious radio station – broadcasts a number of shows. Each has its own style and atmosphere. Collaborating with DJs, actors, writers and singers, KBBL is made to sound like a real radio station with ads, traffic reports and phone-ins.

Examples of the connections within the project can be found via the architecture were the saxophonist in the off-stage dressing room is rehearsing for her solo in the concert-hall (heard in Pagoda Charm) or the room off the stairwell, where the sounds of piano lessons and apartment life can be heard and the apartment where a muffled KBBL can be overheard At a molecular level The Iron Language Alphabet is a sound alphabet containing tiny fragments of sound representing letters or characters of an alien alphabet. This sound alphabet can be heard scattered through other pieces like The Room of Rhetoric, Pagoda Charm and in KBBL in Johnny’s Body at 002. Other molecular scatterings can be found in Cantilena where two songs sung by Operating Theatre’s Elena Lopez in KBBL are exploded and re-arranged to form new entities.

Doyle’s Babel celebrates language - a slight variation on the Biblical morality tale - and musical expression in all its variety.

Violist, violinist and singer-songwriter Marla Hansen returns to Karaoke Kalk with "Salt", her second full-length album to date. Building upon the sonic palette the Berlin-based musician established with her debut "Dust" in 2020, "Salt" takes the delicate mixture of acoustic instruments such as viola, violin, piano and guitar combined with subtle electronics to the next level. The new album is both a remarkable departure and at the same time sheds a new yet reassuring light on Hansen's work and creativity. "Salt" features numerous collaborations with like-minded musicians and friends, e. g. producer and composer Simon Goff, The Notwist's drummer Andi Haberl and the renowned artist DM Stith.

The "Dust" has settled. After having recorded her solo debut of that name, in 2020 the world came to a grinding halt, leaving Marla Hansen left to her own devices in her adopted home of Berlin. For Hansen, who previously had lent her talent to many creative minds such as The National, Sufjan Stevens, The Hidden Cameras, Jay-Z and Ravi Coltrane, the collaborative aspect of writing and producing music had always played a crucial part in finding her own path as a solo artist.

"I started to explore synthesizers and electronic production myself," she remembers of the time when meeting other musicians in person was out of the question. "I am proud that I accomplished many of the electronic elements of the new album by myself, and otherwise laid the groundwork for the final electronic structures through my own experiments. I always wanted to record a 'big' record, one that has a lot of power and sound, and this one is 'bigger' than anything I have done so far."

"Salt" is big, indeed. The opener "Chains" is driven by a gliding bass line, bobbing 808 snares, deep chords and a mesmerizing chorus doubled by luscious strings, marking the beginning of a new chapter in her creative journey. A stark statement, both musically and lyrically. Meanwhile, the title track of the album is an almost abstract sounding ambient miniature, sketch-like, dark and haunting, showcasing Hansen's voice in a shy, brittle and fragile state. If This Mortal Coil/The Hope Blister were ever to record another album, these songs should be high up on the shortlist of tunes to pick. "The One Time" - a duet with Hansen's long-time friend DM Stith - gently meanders between a Philip Glass-inspired piece for chamber orchestra and a vocal ensemble performing on Top Of The Pops. In this range of styles and approaches, Hansen's vision is more present than ever.

For refining and finishing the songs, Hansen turned to Simon Goff, who produced the album and engineered much of the recording, merging Hansen's newly-found songwriting approach with the artistic delicacy which made her debut album an exceptional piece of work. Features include among others: Alice Dixon (Oriel Quartett) on cello, Kyle Resnick (The National, Beirut) on trumpet, Benjamin Lanz (The National, Beirut) on trombone and tuba, and Miles Perkin on bass. And then there is The Notwist's Andi Haberl, who "crafted perfect drum and percussion parts to move the songs wherever they needed to go, either into their driving grooves, slow-build explosions or gentle swells of feeling."

But what are songs actually about? "The themes revolve around a feeling of being trapped. Having to stay inside during the pandemic, with all the silence and stillness coming with it. Simultaneously, I was caught up in a professional situation that was not working for me, yet it required a lot of energy and time. I was thinking a lot about how to break old habits and patterns. Patterns in my life, patterns I saw my friends and loved-ones stuck in. There are a lot of ways that people can be trapped, and breaking out of that requires a lot of courage and energy - on all levels. The title 'Salt' seemed to fit, ocean themes showed up naturally in some of the songs, and I thought often about the quote: 'The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.' Maybe I was just dreaming of the ocean, since it was inaccessible for the first time! But I wanted a cure for this feeling of being trapped, in a time of uncertainty and anxiety, salt as a remedy seemed to have some truth in it: sweat, tears or the sea."

Perseverance and the urge for freedom prevailed in the end. "Salt" is a bold artistic achievement, with songs as big as the biggest waves imaginable. With melodies as alluring as the most comfortable breezes. Perfect from start to finish.

I am thrilled to share with you the upcoming release of Live Life and Tell Stories, the new album by Figub Brazlevic & John Robinson set to release in the spring of 2023. This album is a celebration of John Robinson's love for storytelling, which has been evident since he was a young child, and his passion for hearing epic storytelling from many of his favorite emcees of the golden era of hip hop.

The connection between Figub Brazlevic and John Robinson is far from a fly-by-night or simply another international internet collaboration. The two met in 2009 during Robinson’s first time touring in Germany, and shortly after, Figub remixed J.R.’s group Scienz Of Life’s Leviathan album for the love and respect of the music. The remixes, which have yet to be released, impressed J.R. and his SOL crew, and he knew he would work together in the future with Figub. That time has come, and the message is clear: Live Life and Tell Stories is a seamless blend of Robinson’s thought-provoking narratives and Brazlevic’s abstract jazzy boombap soundscapes.

This album promises to take listeners on a sonic journey of dope grooves and ill storytelling, where Robinson's unique storytelling abilities are masterfully interwoven with Brazlevic's jazzy, boombap beats. From start to finish, Live Life and Tell Stories is sure to captivate audiences and keep them grooving to its infectious beats.

In an era where the music industry is dominated by short-lived trends, it is refreshing to see two seasoned artists come together to create music that is both timeless and meaningful. This album is a perfect example of what can happen when artists come together to create something truly unique, and I can't wait for its release in the spring of 2023.

So mark your calendars, because Live Life and Tell Stories is set to release in the spring of 2023. This is an album you won't want to miss, so be sure to push play and let Figub Brazlevic & John Robinson take you on a sonic journey of dope grooves and ill storytelling. Let's go!

J. Robbins on Basilisk:
2020 gave us the pandemic, which despite all its awfulness also gave me a lot of opportunities to write and demo music - but everyone was terrified to get into the same room together to play. Finally, around February of 2021, I called up Brooks Harlan and Darren Zentek and asked if they would be down to meet me at the studio and do a 2-day session and see how it turns out. Brooks and Darren were into the idea - we were all in full cabin fever mode at that point and dying to do anything - so I sent them the demos and we did it. The musical connection had always already been there, but the energy that came from all being in the same room doing this together - something we had just spent a year wondering if we’d ever get to do again - was wonderful. It felt like having been lost in the desert, and then finding an oasis. I’ve never been so happy with a session - both the results and the experience, and the outcome was exactly what I had wanted: something more stripped down and very immediate.

We were all fired up and we did a second session in March 2022. In the interim I enlisted some collaborators:Gordon Withers to add cello and second guitar to a few songs, Janet Morgan and her two sisters to sing some harmonies, Dave Hadley to play pedal steel on “Not The End,” and Chicago punk legend John Haggerty to add an actual blazing guitar solo to the song "Exquisite Corpse." And I went on working on vocals and overdubs at home. The lyrics were (as always) somewhat therapeutical: “Automaticity” came out of thoughts on aging and remaining present in a world increasingly going on auto-pilot; “Last War” and “Dead Eyed God” work out fears prompted by January 6th and the rise of neo-fascism. More personal matters were trying to work themselves out as well. Recurring childhood dreams ("Deception Island"), surrealist games ("Exquisite Corpse"), and trephination guru Amanda Feilding ("Open Mind") were also in the mix.

Another result of pandemic isolation was that I had also been working on more abstract, electronic based music(inspired by my love of film soundtracks, Peter Gabriel’s music, and by studio work I had done not long ago with the band Locrian), using granular synthesis, sampling, and software synths. So as Basilisk came together, I wanted to see if I could pull those sounds into the flow of the record, open up its vocabulary a little and still make something cohesive. Connection has always been the whole point of music making for me. There are so many ways to come at it, and i don't want to close any of those doors. Going forward, I only want to open more of them.

ESP Institute artist Bartellow, one third of the project Tambien and otherwise known in the Contemporary Classical sphere as Beni Brachtel, returns to the label with his second full-length release, Noosphere. While currently heading the SVS label and residency series out of Munich, Beni’s resume expands well beyond electronic music to include immersive sound installations such as The Adven- ture Of The Empty House (solo live performance across seven floors of Walter Henn’s Deckelbau building), a slew of compositions for the Bavarian State Opera (for which he doubled as conductor), and a prolific career of over twenty-five theater scores for institutions such as the Münchner Kammerspiele, Schauspiel Basel, Maxim Gorki Theater Berlin, Berliner Ensemble, Schauspiel Köln, Schaus- piel Graz and with directors Ersan Mondtag, Alexander Eisenach, Jessica Glause and Tobias Staab among others.

Noosphere is a compendium excerpting from theatrical scores WUT (Elfriede Jelinek, at Schauspielhaus Köln, directed by Ersan Mondtag, 2020), Ödipus and Antigone (Maxim Gorki Theatre Berlin, directed by Ersan Mondtag, 2017), Der Zauberberg (Thomas Mann, Schauspiel Graz, directed by Alexander Eisenach, 2017), Hass Tryptichon (Sybille Berg, Wiener Festwochen / Maxim Gorki Theatre, directed by Ersan Mondtag, 2019), Wonderland Ave. (Sibylle Berg, Schauspielhaus Köln, directed by Ersan Mondtag, 2018), Die Verdammten (after Visconti ́s film, Schauspielhaus Köln, directed by Ersan Mondtag, 2019) and Roi Ubu (Alfred Jarry, Theater Neumarkt, Zurich, directed by Alexander Eisenach, 2018).

The work traverses homages, infusing everything from Baroque to Impressionism, and while these types of references are certainly built into the canon of Theatre as a discipline, here we gather histor- ic layers in an even wider net. Under the self-referential thumb of Contemporary Classical music, this sort of "hindsight" approach has been largely avoided, however, in today’s all-access arena, the constant stream of historic causal-chained events has opened a delta where anything is possible. This defines Bartellow’s stance among his colleagues as well as his cultural position as a composer.

Beni considers beauty a fleeting objective in the arts, that expression is often expected to follow notions of Destructivism or the unfulfilled. Art will pore over wounds, collective angst, mourn- ing a loss of natural habitat or a fear of technological invasion, yet there is a bitter irreverence for the friction or salvation in beauty itself. Acknowledging this subjectivity — what one audience considers superficial pleasure may be deeply profound to another — he leans into musical instinct as if composing via divine conduit.

Noosphere conjures a array of suspense, ecstasy, melancholy, and dread, but in isolating the work from its theatrical component, Brachtel directs our focus toward formal qualities, clearing unim- peded space to conceive fresh narratives and examine dynamism and interconnectivity. In sympathy with often difficult theatre pieces, the passages can be dark and transgressive, but more importantly they remain relative to Brachtel’s circumstances at their time of creation. The title Noosphere speaks to the evolution of human thought and knowledge, opening a door to subjective points-of-view. For example, Nexus II On The Beach refers to both Roberto Musci’s Water Messages On Desert Sand as well as the film Bladerunner, invoking the image of an android enjoying the sunset, but whether or not this abstraction may be considered beautiful depends the listener’s cumulative life experience and perspective.

This is hybrid chamber music, augmented by electro-acoustic layers, juxtaposing various periods and successively processing their residual themes into a trans-generational rendering of “now.”

This music unites our common love for the essence of music, which contains harmonic structures and emotionality without borders." — Musique Infinie

Musique Infinie, the new duo consisting of Noémi Büchi and Feldermelder, is rooted in a shared desire to intertwine two composing veins, and to merge them into a new, massive core. While Büchi combined her background in classical and electro-acoustic music with a bold approach to composition on her highly acclaimed debut album 'Matter' (-OUS, 2022), multi-disciplinary musician and artist Feldermelder has been expanding his artistic practice into unexplored realms for over 20 years. Mutually, they've challenged themselves to fully engage on an artistic exploration aimed at making use of the elementary forces that unfold between them.

Their debut album, simply titled 'I', is a musical hybridization. The compositions make use of simple motives that are radically transformed by expanding them into intricate structures and fantastic layerings. The overcoming of genres with eclectic elements from classical music, jazz, film music and traditional music, combined with the vocabulary of experimental electronic music, complete the vertical plunge into this thickness. The emerging pieces lead into a paradoxical world, both disturbing and euphoric. Pieces that don't give in to calculations and expectations, but progress through ruptures and repetitions. The richness of the compositions and their analog, acoustic and orchestral character reflect the density of the world with its violence, its decadence, its fragility, but also its power, its ingenuity and its beauty.

Composer and sound artist Noémi Büchi creates electronic, symphonic maximalism. Her music is defined by a delicate synthesis of textural rhythms and electroacoustic-orchestral abstraction. She explores the potential of consonance and dissonance, contrasts rhythmic physicality with disruption and playfully emphasizes irregularities, creating an expansive listening experience marked by detail and elevation.

Feldermelder is a polymathic creative whose artistry spans composition, sound design, installation and code. He is co-founder of -OUS Records and an active member of Encor.studio, a collective specialising in creating immersive audio-visual installations. Through his work, he explores the idea of secrecy and its impact on our lives, using music and sound to create a thought-provoking and immersive experience for his audience.

This new FRANKIE-45 is more raw, primitive, philosophical, fuzzy and dissonant than you'd expect! The theme of this 45 (and most of the upcoming album) is fear.. Perfect for Halloween. However, this record is a not a record about spooky skeletons and ghouls but rather a record about deep and day-to-day fears. The first song "Panick Attack" depicts the inner emotions and experience of a panic attack. The next track "Agnost" is more philosophical, wandering into the most abstract of thoughts. In this land of ambiguity you easily spook yourself and try to seek comfort in the thought that existential questions about infinity and reality are just too big for a tiny human brain and that's what that song is all about. The last track is "Time", the devourer of everything is both relative and an unstoppable force that will turn everything to nothing. Filled with paradoxes that'll bend reality itself. This song is about the fear of being late, but humorously instead of blaming oneself, the blame is put on the boss for expecting to control such an uncontrollable power of the universe. So, after FRANKIE's first release, which was more folky and upbeat, this 45 is primitive, fuzzy and straight from the raw emotion that is fear! If you like: The MUSIC MACHINE, BOHEMIAN VENDETTA, THE SEEDS, SYD BARRETT and are into TRITONES... this is the 45 for your youACHINE, BOHEMIAN VENDETTA, THE SEEDS, SYD BARRETT and are into TRITONES... this is the 45 for you

The follow-up to his acclaimed Constellation debut Third Album released in lockdown spring 2020, Markus Floats returns with Fourth Album, pushing the Montréal-based artist's distinct abstract electronic compositions into newly evocative terrain (while preserving his record-titling literalism). Faced with another couple of years spent unexpectedly, though not unfamiliarly, secluded and studio-bound, working on both paintings and music, Floats emerged by the end of 2022 with a set of tracks "about 60% finished" and a determined desire to throw off the shackles of distancing and isolation. "I had always thought about Markus Floats as a solo project but I am wrong about that. Fourth Album is about asking for help, inviting in, and making a home. It's about trust, exploration, and the effort of letting go."Sharing his in-progress recordings with a trio of close friends and collaborators from the powerhouse free music ensemble Egyptian Cotton Arkestra, each of these players then spent a day improvising to the tracks at Montréal's Hotel2Tango studio. With violin by Ari Swan, saxophone and mbira by James Goddard, and guitar and drums by Lucas Huang, Floats stitched their extemporized instruments back into his compositional process. The result is a fluid, lustrous, dynamic expansion of his sound and structure that continues to strike the ineffable balance of abstraction and soulfulness rightly highlighted and celebrated in the critical response to Third Album. Fourth Album sustains much of that previous work's enchanting equanimity, while inviting a bit more restlessness, accident and grit, with the incorporation of acoustic instruments and improvisation melding Floats' own background in Electroacoustic Studies and Jazz Performance more than ever before.Signature avant-electronic explorations of arpeggiated and timbral transformation, subtle shifts in harmonic consonance and dissonance, and a through-composed praxis that draws coterminously upon free jazz, musique concrète and modern Minimalism, all continue to shape Fourth Album to great effect. But an additional palette of sonic and gestural raw material is now also decidedly "out-of-the-box", charting a wider range of gestures, textures and temporalities. Fourth Album complexifies and intensifies across its 12 tracks, thematizing dualities and introducing new elements of play and accident, even a sort of looseness here and there, as it conjures communal expressivity within shorter, still scrupulous formal structures. Fourth Album also for the first time includes spoken word as a recorded element, previously only (and always) a feature of Markus Floats live performances. The album's final track samples the poet and activist Fred Moten, closing with these words: "What we've been trying to figure out how to get to is how we are when we get together to try to figure it out." This koan of socially-engaged process and creation/advancement of meaning through praxis and immanence reflects the unique fusion of intangible materiality and affective sensibility at work in Markus Floats music, unfolding in new depths and currents with Fourth Album.

Explorations was born from the inquisitive spirit that Hypnotica Colectiva has always had for the world of experimental music. We can classify it as an ambitious project, based on the fact that it is the first official sub-label of HC Records, but also pointing to the musical section both on the publishing side and on the live art side. The main objective is not to adhere to any pigeonhole, seeking to cover a wide range of unconventional sounds and rhythms without straying too far from recognizable and danceable patterns. That is why we want to create space for this project on and off the track, without barriers, and with our eyes mainly set on the future.

To kickstart the project, we look within for answers, paying attention to our mother label. John and Paul Healy hide under the name of Somatic Responses, two Welsh brothers with a long and proven career in intelligent music. We won't say that they are pioneers, but they did manage to forge a characteristic sound and style that has accompanied them since they began their career in the mid-90s.

EXPLORATIONS 01 was not conceived as an LP is usually made. When contacting the artists, they sent us a large number of tracks that they thought would fit the label's preferences. From here, the Explorations team selected the 13 tracks that now come to you, trying to find the balance between the three main styles we bet on for this first release: IDM, Ambient and Drone.

"HC Records is expanding its horizons with a new parallel yet ambitious project. In an effort to broaden its recording legacy from an evolutionary perspective, the Valencian label is venturing into the field of experimental sound. This new direction signifies a rejuvenation and adaptation to a new era, where music fragments and expands towards infinite horizons. Complex compositions, abstract designs, and extreme sound treatments define this innovative approach, pushing music beyond its limits and sacrificing some of its essential properties in the process."

Ximo Noguera @Industrial Complexx

Now in its eleventh year and following hype for recent releases from Osaka's Kiji Suedo (Hosek EP & Riot album) and Edinburgh's George T (Roll On, King's Cross single), Edinburgh's Hobbes Music label burrows deeper into experimental ambient terrain with brand new signing Galun. With a discography over 15 years deep, Galun brings no shortage of his own props.

Galun is the solo project of Moscow musician, artist, and producer Sergei Galunenko (currently based in Tallinn), who has performed at numerous prestigious Russian events and collaborated on projects internationally in a career spanning more than 15 years, with a discography to match, turning his attention to myriad styles: IDM, funk, techno, juke, post rock, beatboxing, free improvisation, drone.

“In my project, Galun, I do not use musical instruments,” he explains. “All the sounds are produced with only the use of my voice through beatbox and special vocal skills. Some effects are used to produce electronic sounds.”

Hot on the heels of the new Golos album (out now via Berlin's One Instrument) plus a remix for US collaborator Alek Finn via Nevada's Mystery Circles label, Galunenko’s eighth studio album, Glagol (or Glagolь / Глаголь in Russian) is an ambient collection, recorded between 2013 and 2022. The title is an old Russian word which translates as ‘Speak’.

"This album consists of tracks written in different periods, so it turned out to be diverse," he says. "There are classic ambient tracks, as well as experimental ones in search of new possibilities for voice processing."

Why "glagol"? “Since the music on this album is 90 percent processed voice, it's a form of conversation for me," he reveals, “where I talk about my thoughts and mood, so speak music, while using my voice, is an amazing way of expressing.”

Five singles will be released on streaming platforms only, at intervals, over summer, with the full album released on digital 25.8.23 and a limited edition cassette plus lathe cuts out from 8.9.23.

"How gorgeous is that?! I have heard the rest of the LP and it is all equally gorgeous" DEB GRANT played ‘Mirror’ (New Music Fix show, BBC 6 Music, 17.8.23)

"'Glagol' translates as 'speak', an apt title when you consider 90 percent of the noises contained on it originated as recordings of his own voice, and that lends the ambient experiments here a very human, tactile feel. Closing tune 'Mirror' is a serene masterpiece, '1981' is an evocative phase-fest, the stuttery 'Stone' is endearing and enrapturing and Galunenko generally displays a knack for communicating clear emotions through abstract sounds. Recommended." ELECTRONIC SOUND
‘Really beautiful’ AVALON EMERSON (US)
‘Really loving the Galun tracks!’ INTERGALACTIC GARY (NL)

‘Super!’ JD TWITCH (Optimo, UK)
'Wow, this sounds amazing. Loving the atmosphere here, ambient with some groove somehow, really feeling this one.' DAN CURTIN (US/DE)

"Sounds great. Looking forward to getting into this properly" LORD OF THE ISLES

‘Wicked. It’s great stuff’ DRIBBLER (Pikes, Ibiza // Paradise Lost, Red Light Radio, Pure; SP)
‘Very nice, will play on Cashmere Radio here in Berlin. Keep up the good musical works x ALEX VOICES (DE)
‘Sounds really nice. The sort of thing I’d absolutely listen to on streaming etc’ AUSTIN ATO (UK)
‘Excellent stuff as always’ PAT BENSBERG (The Eccentric Selection, Phonic FM, UK)
‘Digging this one! Right up my street and just the ticket for my Radio Buena Vida show’ TOM CHURCHILL (UK)

Vargmal Records continues to explore immersive, thought-provoking techno with an abstract spirit by presenting Corners EP from the emergent collaborative UK project Terrain. The Kosovo-based label was launched in 2022 with a considered balance of classic and contemporary techno, featuring Italian techno pioneer Leo Anibaldi and commissioning attendant remixes by contemporary Italian maestro Donato Dozzy.

Continuing the label's embrace of subliminal sounds for adventurous dance floors, Terrain deliver four tracks of snaking, subtle rhythms pivoting away from rigid structures towards a more fluid kind of techno. It's a sound the duo of Joe Baker and Voytek Stanley channeled on their debut release and they expand on the principles from that record in superlative style on Corners.

The EP opens up with the weighted pressure of 'Blind Spot', a dense workout pivoting on a fractured kick punching out underneath interwoven sheets of texture and atmosphere. 'Vintage' develops this theme with dubby chord washes which bloom out over the fine detail of the deceptively complex beat configuration. 'Corners' meanwhile adjusts the temperature from cooly meditative to subtly fierce accents Terrain edge into their sound.

It's an elegant fusion that remains at ease with the overall mood of the EP, but a noticeable shift in energy for the B side. 'Singularity' completes the picture with additional input from Localhost, welcoming layers of noisy melodics which sit comfortably on top of Terrain's dubby pulses. More open and searching than the introspection which holds sway elsewhere, it's a tonal shift that opens the sound of Terrain out and brings a sense of balance to their assured second record.

This Moment' - Shakti's first new studio album in more than 45 years - is
a work of immense depth and radiant optimism
With John McLaughlin (guitar, guitar synth) and Zakir Hussain (tabla) joined by
vocalist Shankar Mahadevan, violinist Ganesh Rajagopalan, and percussionist
Selvaganesh Vinayakram, the Shakti of now is a powerfully dynamic collective,
defined by deft interplay, dazzling unison passages, extraordinarily dexterous
improvisations, and the ability to draw from a vast well of global traditions and,
miraculously, put them in conversation with one another.
As a cornerstone of what is now called World Music, the vision and virtuosity of
Shakti has inspired generations of musicians from around the world to explore
sonic hybrids once thought impossible. Born of the musical and spiritual
brotherhood shared by the revolutionary British guitarist and bandleader John
McLaughlin and master Indian percussionist Zakir Hussain, Shakti's soulful,
organic intermingling of Eastern and Western musical traditions has proven
transformative for both the band's members and its listeners. Fifty years after the
informal conversations and jam sessions that sparked the band into existence,
their music continues to resonate and evolve.
Despite the large gap in their studio discography, Shakti has persisted
intermittently over the years as a live proposition, releasing several concert
recordings. "Shakti is very much a 'live' band, " explains McLaughlin. "A part of the
problem with making a studio recording has always been the fact that we live on
different continents, and we all follow our individual careers – in addition to
working together in Shakti. 'This Moment' is the result of me calling everyone in
the fall of 2021 and persuading them to use today's recording technology to
realise it."
Recorded and mixed in the U.S., Monaco, India, and Great Britain, This Moment is
nevertheless cohesive, bound by the deeply held bond shared by the players - a
bond that is audibly apparent across the album's eight tracks.

Somewhere in the Lower-Franconian vineyards lies a hidden and mostly unknown canyon, a place that often returns to the thoughts and dreams of Läuten der Seele’s Christian Schoppik. Though a much rarer occurrence now as a consequence of environmental change, chance encounters upon the area in the past would sometimes reveal small ponds amongst the reeds, teeming with life and populated by colonies of newts and the now endangered yellow bellied toad. The transience of the water and the wildlife it hosts, dependent on season or climate, lends the area an almost fantastical, dream-like quality. Was it ever even there at all? A secret place that may or may not be present holds vast appeal to some enquiring minds… Ertrunken Im Seichtesten Gewässer, the third Läuten der Seele album in two years, is inspired directly by these experiences. Translating as ‘drowned in the shallowest stretch of water’, a title as pregnant with dread as it is wonder, the themes present speak both to personal memories and a wider understanding of place and time, and how we might interpret our own position within an ever-changing, sometimes disappearing world.

The record is presented as two long-form pieces divided into four separate movements, each titled so as to reflect this natural environment and its intersection with imagination, relying on processes of collage that draw from myriad indeterminable samples, field recordings and various recorded instruments. Those familiar with Schoppik’s work, both as Läuten der Seele and with Brannten Schnüre, will find present many of his signature tropes - the way deeply layered collages render abstracted visions of the past alive in the present - though what is always significant about his approach is not so much aesthetic as the wider concepts it attempts to express and emote. Indeed, emotional response is key to the Läuten der Seele sound, how overlapping notions of nostalgia, memory and identity calibrate experience and understanding of who we are and the world around us, whether it’s a world that’s gone or another imagined into being. If you observe the artwork closely enough, you may find a clue as to the canyon’s location, though such specifics are besides the point. The music itself infers a wider sense of the impermanence that characterises hidden worlds, wherever they might be or whoever they might belong to.

Nothing compares to Lewis Taylor and nobody crafts a "B-Side" quite like him. Indeed, his long deleted B-Sides are the stuff of legend. So, gathered together for the first time on one slice of wax, we present The Damn Rest: an album's worth of B-Sides from the era of the 1996 Lewis Taylor ("Damn") album. More off-the-wall and abstract than the album proper, these rare, underheard tracks burst with Lewis's uncompromising genius. A lot more experimental, the music is still drop dead beautiful. The Damn Rest is the essential bridge between Lewis Taylor and Lewis II.

Lewis Taylor's self-titled masterpiece from 1996 was to be originally called Damn. You can see the word right there on the from cover. However, concerns over distribution in the US scuppered this desired title. When thinking about what to call this collection of essential B-Sides from the era of that first album, we thought The Damn Rest would be appropriate. But these tracks aren't simply throwaways or outtakes, as Lewis himself states: "each little group were recorded specifically for the release of each 'single'." These B-Sides were simply the next thing to happen after self-titled, and before Lewis II. In other words, you need this!

The collection opens with "Asleep When You Come", the A2 on the original "Lucky" 12". It's a slow-mo string-drenched soul offering, cast in cinematic soft-focus with a vocal performance from the heavens set against wonky, shuffling drums and delicate instrumental flourishes. Beautiful. Also from the "Lucky" single, "You Got Me Thinking" may actually be Lewis' funkiest moment and is definitely one of our favourites, a great, gently psychedelic funky club track, that's for sure. Next, the gorgeous, meandering "I Dream The Better Dream" is just sheer, metronomic bliss, with shades of Stevie Wonder. Just ask D’Angelo, who included the track on his Feverish Phantasmagoria show for Sonos. Not only a celebrity-fan-favourite, it's Lewis's, too: "My favourite has always been this track. In my fantasy it’s what early Soft Machine would’ve sounded like if Marvin Gaye was their lead singer."

As we move to the B-sides from the "Whoever" single, the first to feature is "Pie In The Electric Sky / If I Lay Down". It's a brilliantly sprawling classic. A head-nod funk workout in two parts; part psychedelic heavy soul jam, part breezy Marvin-esque near-instrumental of the deeply lush variety. It needs to be heard to be believed. Astonishing! Flip over for "Waves", a shimmering, dramatic, sweeping string-led fan favourite. The climax of the song is just too stunning for words. It's followed by the deep wyrd-soul of "Trip So Heavy" the final, dizzying track from the "Whoever" single and another celestial funk delight featuring strings, organ, twisted bass and heavy drums. From the "Bittersweet" 12", "A Little Bit Tasty" is a building, schizophrenic soul-jazz epic that starts out with Lewis performing a call and (distant) response with himself over a gentle mid-90s drum loop before snatches of heavy, crunching metal guitars blast apart the otherwise neat song structure. Ultimately, it's unarguable that The Damn Rest is worth it for the inclusion of the jaw-dropping "Lewis III" alone. A dazzlingly lush and stunningly sophisticated prog/soul hybrid that owes as much to "Pet Sounds" as "What's Going On" with arrangements that grow and unfold in layers. Just sparkling.

A compilation like this feels like one of those promo-only rarities they used to give out to a select few back in the good old days, so when it came to the artwork it only made sense to follow what Cally Callomon (head of Island’s art department) had done for the singles and promos back in the 90s. He even did us some fresh scribbles of “The Damn Rest” to match his handwriting that’s all over the first album and its singles. We hope you like it as much as the music contained within. Simon Francis’s vinyl mastering ensures these classic recordings sound as great as they deserve to. The record has been cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios and pressed at Record Industry. We've lost Prince. We still have Lewis.

As the siren’s song echoes out of systems worldwide, perhaps we are (re)turning to the liquid age of dance; with natural ephemera such as moss, sentiments for ecology such as swamps, and mercurial aspects of water all absorbing the aesthetic forefront. A return to nature, a deep dive under the lily pads. Here Marijn with her debut EP guides our plunge, a trip previously taken via her podcasts on Kulture Lab, where you can also find her previously released music.

Whispers from the ethereal plane drift around the headspace, a rumble in the distance of sound traversing the water, voices to guide and to keep you from floating too far from the line. Audio hallucinations are aplenty when submerged, a serenity of space, yet distant growls assure that peace is not always 2 be found. The melancholia within the daydream, the pang of loss caught in reflections, internal and from the water, with the lily pads floating above as a guiding entity, an anchor, something to hold. Under the lily pads we rumble.

On the flip everyone’s fav casual breaks n rave hooligan Luca Lozano asks the recurring thought within dance music, a question we quest, yet rarely want the answer. Abstraction via squeaks and tweaks, you better bop your bleepin’ head to this 1.

‘Leave A Message’ leaves the tranquil waters disturbed and rippling to the outer edges, providing jumps for the lily pads to ride on the incoming tide, with the ebb and flow making way for a storm surge. Aka big beats are the best, a notion the directly honest final track ‘Made (Drums)’ follows, bringing a twisted jack attack logic to a deranged assembly of samples, a manic orchestra of tumbling drums who have conspired to freak out, albeit with cute bubbles underneath to revel in the allure of sonic mania.

Six years, more than fifty releases, countless artists and multiple subsidiaries; the Oyster Cult’s reach extends far beyond what sceptics once thought possible. It’s only fitting, then, that we gather some of our finest under the Kalahari banner in celebration.

The anniversary release is upon us. Six whole years since Jacy helped inaugurate the label with a spin on Midwestern house, OYSTER40 signals a landmark occasion. 18 tracks, quadruple vinyl boxset action, and in true Oyster Cult tradition, it comes bearing pearls.

Dancefloor squarely in focus, the Cult assembles on a compilation spanning alumni and new inductees alike. It’s an assemblage of the fractal, explorative and ritual-ready; at once a focused distillation of the Kalahari sound and celebration of its many acolytes. Big on atmosphere, heavy on groove, we delve deeply into the musical DNA shared by all who grace the label.

Tough, direct cuts (Sansibar, Roza Terenzi, Big Zen, Maara & Priori) to the pristine and widescreen (S.O.N.S., Volodymyr Gnatenko, Adam Pits), this is all quintessentially Kalahari. Elsewhere though, the likes of D. Tiffany and SW. journey further into realms of abstraction: the former opting for hi-tech, dreamstate IDM, while the SUED co-founder dissolves a house template into dubby introspection.

Calling upon contemporary talents for the most part, there are also exceptions. Raymond Castoldi - the one-time house producer best known as Madison Square Garden’s music director - returns with an unreleased nugget from ’91, while an ‘Aliens’-sampling track from Detroit-indebted techno outfit Syzygy gets the reissue treatment.

There’s writing on the wall that speaks of time immemorial, where symbols exist on the edge of language and abstraction.

It’s upon this precipice that Dominic James Marshall makes his mark, at the helm and on the keys of Cave Art - a slate of scintillating digital sounds, spontaneously arranged, etched in wax. The project is a thoughtful and inventive response to a long tradition of musical sampling.

Familiarity is a vessel through which Marshall channels a fierce artistry and selection is at the heart of what moves it. The trio build upon what makes beat music burrow into us so deeply, maxing out their offerings of giant synths, splintering chords and impactful beats to soul-shifting degrees.

Marshall plunges into the uncanny valley and frolics in it, inventing a fresh path for the genre with irreverent wit and divine grace.

More in tune now with the rhythm of the sun and moon, Xylouris White (Dirty Jim White and George Xylouris) speak to each other across great distances with the intuition and fellowship that can only be found over years in each other"s company. With fewer distractions, appreciative of the freedom to play with new sounds and spaces, they carve The Forest In Me from unbelievably thin air. Once you set the needle down on the record and hear for yourself, the intimacies and impressionism, abstraction and unfiltered emotion found in The Forest In Me, you may wonder what was the mood of the room in which this music came to be. George, Jim and long-time producer (and secret third member) Guy Picciotto share their thoughts: Guy Picciotto: "In late 2019, we had begun taking steps to working on new material. In a haphazard fashion, Jim and I started tracking drums in my basement, cutting them up into shapes with no set landing in mind. Some of it we sent to Giorgos in Crete - he responded with his lyra and his lute. Without intention we had initiated a process that would soon become more ruthlessly mandated by the world events that separated and isolated us to three corners of the globe in the following year." Giorgos Xylouris: "While we were recording, I noticed that the music had a certain solitude about it, both from the title and from inside. That led us to find more music from within that we had not yet discovered." Jim White: "The idea emerged, naturally nourished and nourishing a record with none of our usual angles and themes, no verbal language, no angst nor sudden dynamics, a more subtle structure. And we found The Forest In Me." The first revelation from The Forest In Me is "Latin White", in which Jim"s jaunty pattern sets the stage for George"s Cretan lyra and lute figurations, giving this short dance piece the feel of a welcome hoedown around the campfire, warding off the encroaching darkness of an emptied world. The repetitions, gathered to induce joy, have a glassy-eyed mechanical drive to them; their dervish-istic seeking betrays any suggestion of balm.

Very few electronic music artists can boast of spanning a wide musical spectrum as the UK producer Calum Lee aka Paleman / Fresnel Lens.Always emphasizing the percussive side (advantage of being a jazz drummer), and always with an innovative spirit, the releases of this authenticsound designer oscillate between the most abstract / experimental electronica and minimalist club focused techno, from atmospheric andintrospective works to the sickest dubstep / bass music.

As at 30D we declare ourselves absolute fans of Calum's music, we had a clear obligation to ask him to join our catalogue, specifically for the EyesHave It sub-label (we had especial interest in his interpretation of broken, dark and industrial techno). His answer was direct and unmistakable:"I've sent you a lot of pieces that fit with your label vision and the imagery that we love.. I've been studying existentialism a lot recently, so thesetunes are a reflection of my headspace at the moment!".

A true declaration of intent!And here it is, five perfect examples of obsessive tribal madness, overexciting synthetic broken beats and a lot of rawness. A pure musical gem.

If we want to look into the future, we have to start considering the implications more holistically. All too often, science fiction is a dystopian projection of the current era's grimmest realities spiked with pragmatic historical hindsight - but what if instead it was able to reflect our needs, hopes, and dreams? On "SPINE", award-winning Danish composer SØS Gunver Ryberg considers a sustainable alternative, buoyed by interconnectedness, empowerment, and understanding. Channeling her dextrous sound design into advanced, time-bending music that fluctuates through techno, experimental ambient, and soundsystem-vibrating bass music, she maps out an artistic landscape that's futuristic and complex, but never oppressive.

Ryberg is an accomplished producer who's developed her sound over many years, playing concerts and working tirelessly on video game soundtracks, film scores, dance, performance, and multichannel installation pieces. Her first solo album "Entangled" appeared in 2019 on Berlin's esteemed Avian imprint, and was praised for its sensitive approach to noise and abstracted techno, while its EP-length followup "WHYT 030" was nominated for the Nordic Council's prestigious music prize this year. "SPINE" is the inaugural release on Ryberg's own label Arterial, and stands as a thematically dense statement of intent. The label provides a platform to extend Ryberg's artistic goals and reflect not just her world but a world she wants to see develop in the future: somewhere connected and creative, where exploration and free expression is prioritized over genre division and petty compromise.

This philosophy is central to the sounds on "SPINE", which have been carefully sculpted to accurately lay out Ryberg's worldview. Opening track 'Unfolding' presents a sonic ecosystem that flourishes as it spreads itself out, and quivering kick drums vibrate alongside unstable atmospherics. There's the faint fingerprint of Chain Reaction's notional dub techno in there somewhere, but Ryberg interrupts the thought before it can coagulate, assuring the listener that her vision isn't ponderous but playful and optimistic. This mood flickers into view again on the title track 'Spine', as fragmented breaks rumble beneath disorienting synths, faint images of a life we once knew refracted into cosmic beams of light. 'Mirrored Madness' meanwhile is warm, assertive, and optimistic, contrasting skittering cybernetic percussion with dense, enveloping harmonies.

When she pushes rhythm into the background, like on the cinematic 'We tumble on the edges', Ryberg's compositional skill is placed under the microscope. We're presented with the opportunity to examine another dimension of her work, the mystery beneath the stone, hearing saturated, alluring pads infused with hidden harmonies. In these moments, Ryberg implores all of us to consider the environment, asking us to think about the earth's essential nutrients on the dreamy 'Phosphorus Cycle', and what we might do to save ourselves on the delirious 'Where do we go from here'. Ryberg's concern isn't chastising, it's laid out in a warm embrace. The future could still be bright - there's something beautiful in the complexity if you just take the time to look closely.

Emotionally, crafted by Brainislave Zivkovic and Andre Tschaskowski in 1986 for Coloursound, is arguably the most beautiful library album ever produced. A start-to-finish masterpiece of powerfully melodic music for reflection and introspection. It is, indeed, deeply emotional.

Branislave Zivkovic handles the majority of Side A. Opener "Morning Light" evokes exactly that feeling, with a gorgeous and plaintive acoustic guitar solo combining with alto flute to stunning effect. Its immediate counterpoint, "Sundown", in no less arresting but brings with it an after-dark drama of almost Lynchian proportions, again drawing upon guitar and flute but with a slightly more melancholic, even sinister edge, also calling to mind Ry Cooder's score for Paris, Texas. It truly captivates when the strings arrive. Remarkable.

The reflective cello solo with swelling strings at the heart of "Pastoral Walk 1" ensure this track is aptly titled, with parts 2 and 3 adding more agitation - via keys and percussive elements - to great effect. "In The Garden 1" presents an elegiac cello solo whilst its second part elevates the romance. The four-part "Soft Thoughts" suite invites further introspection via reflective alto flute and guitar. Fans of The Durutti Column will need to seek this.

Andre Tschaskowski enters proceedings with three tracks at the end of the Side A. All of them aces in the pack. "Grief", whilst sorrowful, uplifts in its second half through beautiful keys. Equally hopeful are the two-part "Personal Mood" sketches, both dreamy exercises in optimistic ambience.

Tschaskowski controls the entirety of Side B. "Woodland Mood", with its pastoral flute and cor anglais and "Reminiscence", with its classical, emotional strings, both beguile. The piano and strings-heavy "Sentimental View" suite is one of the most beautiful, atmospheric things you will ever hear, particularly its second part. "Moonset 1" with it's wonderful Joe Pass-esque guitar is tense yet easy, the beauty elevated further with the introduction of strings and horns. The more restrained "Moonset 2" is pared back to its divine, sweeping essence and should surely have been sampled by now. To close out an album of almost impossible refinement, the brief 2-part "Emotional Tension" salvo brings both increased stress before resolving itself and the LP with a piano motif and atmosphere of serenity. Blessed relief.

As David Hollander, in Unusual Sounds: The Hidden History of Library Music, states, Coloursound was "founded in 1979 by composer, music lawyer, and vibraphonist Gunter Greffenius. A Munich-based library with a reputation for releasing innovative and ambitious music, it catered largely to the market for experimental sounds, its first release was 1980’s Biomechanoid, an abstract synthesizer excursion by Joel Vandroogenbroeck, of the pioneering kosmische band Brainticket. The record — complete with imposing, anonymous title and unearthly H.R. Giger cover art — set the tone for the label’s progressive leanings. The label’s catalogue stands as a tribute to the unfettered creative license that libraries were able to provide to forward-thinking musicians who, frustrated by the whims and constraints of the commercial scene, found complete freedom in the world of production music."

As with all our library music re-issues, the audio for Emotionally comes from the original analogue tapes and has been remastered for vinyl by Be With regular Simon Francis. Richard Robinson has brought the original Coloursound sleeve back to life in all its metallic silver glory.

DOUBLE BLACK LP : 2 x 140 G Black Vinyl , Sleeve & 2 x Heavy Weight Printed Inner with UV Gloss Finish

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

2 x Solid White LP, 5mm spine Sleeve UV Gloss Finish, 2x Heavy Weight Printed Inner Sleeve UV Gloss finish, marketing sticker.

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.