quête:any given sin

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

It's hard to explain an album when one listen is enough. All the more so with MaMaMa: there's no room to stay passive. Listening to his new album, EST, means immersing yourself in an atmosphere that's softly psychedelic, comforting and organic all at once. A dreamy, electronic pop that proves this Strasbourg-at-heart, Paris-by-adoption musician, arranger, singer, songwriter and producer never stops reinventing himself. After changing his name — formerly Petit Prince — and delivering two critically acclaimed albums ("MaMaMa-gnificent." / "Hooks you carry in your head for a long time" / "sumptuous arrangements"), Elliott Diener now offers an even more sincere record. Real songs in French, after two albums where production sometimes took up all the space: "when you make heavily produced music, once you strip away the layers of sound, there's no fruit left underneath. On EST, I don't need makeup for the songs to work," he admits.


That's what this new album is about: the song and the French language first, then the pleasure of sound. An album less concerned with talking about its own making, more inhabited, more embodied, within a contemporary folklore. With this new album, don't expect to be bored: EST is his best record yet.

No pretense


Entirely conceived in his studio in Pantin — a room of his own, at last — imagined as a space free of any daydream, open to every sonic landscape, MaMaMa offers a record that's both hazy and downy soft. Often composed very early in the morning, it has become nostalgic without being dark, melancholic without being sad, with a few lineages showing through: Flavien Berger, Moodoïd, Feu! Chatterton for the taste for words and unease, Mount Kimbie for the approach to sound and rhythm. Unsurprising, given that EST was finalized with the British duo's producer. Live, MaMaMa is preparing a show in the style of Nicolas Jaar or UTO. Hypnotic and immersive.

The most liberating thing is that EST is an album without pretense. With it, we move through perseverance (in Aussi loin qu'il tiendra debout), the small arrangements we make to avoid facing reality (Tout sauf la vérité), and the fragility of bonds we thought were solid (Si bien ensemble). We also touch on lasting conflicts with the people we love (Anywhere You Are, There You Are), misunderstanding (Elle me parle une langue), and the erosion of friendships (S'envoler). EST draws an intimate and redemptive map of human relationships, in a body of work that's both lucid and sensitive — like when he also addresses social masks such as filial love (in Beau garçon, dedicated to his son) or relationships that have become impossible.

"It's really the album that sounds most like me, in terms of sonic landscape," Elliott points out. A record that rises above the noise of an imperfect, shifting world — like us — joyful in its words, liberating in its production. A true gem.

Celebrating 30 years since ‘Buena Vista Social Club’ was released, this classic will be made available on limited edition pearl vinyl and features the remastered audio and bonus tracks released as part of the album’s 25th Anniversary in 2021.

Masterminded by the trio of Cuban bandleader Juan de Marcos González, American producer and guitarist Ry Cooder, and British producer and label owner Nick Gold, 'Buena Vista Social Club’ is both the name given to this extraordinary group of musicians and the album they recorded in just seven days in 1996 in Havana’s 1950s vintage EGREM studios. It was clear from the atmosphere of the recording sessions that something very special was taking place. However, no one could have predicted that Buena Vista Social Club would become a worldwide phenomenon – awarded a Grammy in 1997 and, at over 8 million copies, outselling any other record in the same genre.

The acclaim of the original album elevated the artists (including Ibrahim Ferrer, Rubén González, Eliades Ochoa, Compay Segundo and Omara Portuondo) to superstar status, inspired an award-winning film by Wim Wenders, a Tony Award-Winning Broadway Musical and contributed to popularising Cuba’s rich musical heritage. Produced by Ry Cooder and Executive Produced by Nick Gold for World Circuit, the timeless quality of the music and the sheer verve of the veteran performers have ensured that this album will go down as one of the landmark recordings of the 20th century.

Trinidad-born, Bristol-based vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Corysan releases his first new single in five years on the newly launched Nine Channel Records.
He met producer and label boss Grant Dell in 2016, the pair hitting it off and collaborating on 2018’s Hijacked single for the latter’s Legsman reggae imprint. Described as “proper righteous business” by Andrew Weatherall before spinning the single on his Music’s Not For Everyone NTS radio show, Corysan deeply intones his lyrics over Dell’s supremely deep, heavyweight roots manoeuvres.
When Dell asked Weatherall’s long-time studio partner Nina Walsh to pick one of the three artists on his planned new label to remix shortly after his untimely passing in 2020, she selected Corysan’s “Heavy Load”, not knowing Andrew had been such a major fan but, at that difficult time, relating to the song’s positive punchline: “The burden that I carry here, can only make me stronger now.”
Nina’s modern dub masterpiece graces the flip of Dell’s two mixes, her seismic bassline and other-worldly music perfectly complimenting Corysan’s message, represented in spatially planted extracts along with a new spirit-flying midsection.
Now it’s time to let “Heavy Load” into the world as a roots milestone from this unique artist, with enough extra weight to anchor it anywhere from sound systems and clubs to front-room dancehalls. Those few years since its creation have given its timeless message of hope and defiance a deeper relevance in turbulent modern times.

Felipe Gordon is back on Shall Not Fade with his new album Tezeta and f*ck is it special.

Felipe Gordon is SNF label mainstay... (we released his triple repressed debut album "A Landscape Onomatopeya" in 2022 as well as 7 x 12" EPs on SNF over the years plus an extra 12" on Lost Palms)... so given his consistent and exceptional output on our record label you'd probably forgive some complacency with this write up, you might even afford us license to assume we're preaching to the choir and allow us to rest easy knowing that at this stage Felipe Gordon's records sell themselves.... Well none of those things are happening here because when an artist makes a record this complete, this good, you have to try to find the words. You use words like "timeless", "complete and "special". Words that can carry the weight. Because when you've listened to an album dozens of times, and not once, in any part, on any listen in any way has it fatigued you, you need to say. When a record felt so wonderfully familiar from the first listen and just kept on giving you the same feels ever since, you need to say. When a record makes you think about you how you feel about certain Air & St Germain albums (even when you know what it means to put that in a press release), you need to say. So here we are, saying these things.. Tezeta is a special record, one that exists in the rarefied air. A proper album. A record that every time you press play you will immediately remember why you own it and why you love it. A record that your subconscious will know so well that if shuffle is on you will know in an instant. An album that when it's in your collection and the first track starts you get a twinge of annoyance because you didn't listen again sooner and when the final track stops you stop too.

Given paint and a canvas we can most of us paint a picture, but only those that are gifted can paint something that makes us feel. Tezeta makes you feel. Feel familiarity when it's playing, yearning when its not, and absence when it ends. This alone would be enough to make the argument as to why this album is special and justify the gushing opening paragraph of this press release. But we're not done yet.

We don't really have a word in english for what Felipe Gordon has created with this album and how it makes you feel. "Tezeta" that word.

Tezeta is a one of four musical modes within the traditional Ethiopian modal music system known as Qiñit. Mulatu Astatke, the father of Ethio-jazz, frequently uses this mode, often translating it as "nostalgia" or "longing". Gordon says Mulatu's own tezeta recordings convey to him "feelings of melancholy and longing from a point of affection". This is exactly the feeling Gordon has captured. It is what he has woven through every recording on this album. Tezeta is the prime ingredient. It's the base note in recipe, it's sprinkled over the signature jazz-sampled house tracks. It powers the vast array of synthesizers Gordon deploys. It underpins the explorations into trip-hop. It's present in Gordon's varied vocal deliveries and it tunes his guitar. It's in the running order. It's the flow. Tezeta is tezeta in electronic music form, with 4/4, breakbeats, samples and synths.

Gordon says a big part of what differentiates this album from from his previous albums is that is was recorded in a period where he allowed himself to create music without the constraints of time or self-pressure which coincided with a moment of heavy personal growth which allowed him to reflect deeply on his work.

There is a word in Portuguese "Saudade" that Gordon says has a similar meaning to Tezeta - Saudade is defined as a deep, sometimes bittersweet, longing or nostalgia for someone or something that is absent or lost. But here at SNF we think that in Tezeta nothing has been lost. Quite the opposite. Through Felipe Gordon's artistic explorations we have all gained something very special indeed.

Mr. K’s latest is a sureshot double-sider with two much-loved classics given the exclusive treatment from the edit master.

The Shades Of Love, a powerhouse female vocal trio led by the sensational Meli’sa Morgan, dropped an absolute boogie bombshell in 1982 on their first collaboration with superproducer Patrick Adams. ‘Body To Body’ has an easy midtempo swing that’s perfect for a dancefloor (or roller rink!) with a chunky bass line and crisp claps pushing things along, giving Morgan’s sultry vocals the perfect springboard. Previously only available as a 7-inch on obscure Dutch and Brazilian pressings… but that was a remix version, this custom edit by Mr. K is from the version Larry Levan made famous at the Paradise Garage, a welcome addition to any dance 45s crate.

Taking things back to the early days of disco music, Crown Heights Affair provide a shimmering slice of uplifting magic on ‘Dreaming a Dream’. Originally an instrumental break of a vocal song, this wordless take became a hit in its own right when it was released as a single in 1975. That famed version, however, sadly ends far too early. The magnificent waves of sparkling keys, rushing

An Elephant Eye; A Frozen Girl; and an Umbrella Man walk into an Icebox. All have been shoveled out of a Jungle-den and are covered in Mud Fleas. The Umbrella Man has been Dolt-ing around on the Machinery for Years. . .knowing it Hasn’t-Really-Rained since he threw his last Bacchanal. He thinks he owns birds; he just listens to them really. The Frozen Girl keeps away from him but moves Incredibly slow given the Circumstances. . .she’s been trying to tie her shoes for 700 years. The floating Eyeball, defying all Man Physics, Miraculously Phases himself All the way to the outside of the Icebox; Barreling through the Crisp air. He then comes to a Grinding halt before a Ginormous Totem pole of Speckled flesh, Grey and exceptionally thick, Wrinkling like telephone Wire. He quickly realizes that’s where the rest of his Body went. The only thing that’s missing is his Trunk. But he’s learned to communicate Decently Well without it. . .Using Semiotic chains of Eyelid-signifiers. . .An Eyeball shaped hole has been Burnt into the Icebox but the Frozen Girl won’t know for another 53 years and by then Big-Pants won’t even be in. The Umbrella Man doesn’t particularly so much as Notice and think its smells a lot like Burnt toast. He says he’s off to the Cemetery.


What do Them Three have in common anyway? Well they all Dig Pins; they also all Exist because of Him. And, Starting today, are Perpetually Entrapped in 10 millimeters divisions of Black resin upon a Circular Plain. I want to hear them cry and shout, You might say, because we are all Up-standers. But all crying and shouting Ourselves into the Icebox. . .

If you’ve spent any time in a London club over the last few years, you know the name. Rossi. has gone from being the “secret weapon” of the underground to the guy everyone is trying to book. After cutting his teeth with a residency at Fabric and tearing the roof off Printworks and Studio 338, he’s finally given us the anthem we’ve been waiting for.

The bosses new single on Homegrown., ‘Ease Your Mind,’ isn’t just another tech-house filler. It’s the perfect distillation of that “Rossi. sound” that’s been vibrating through the UK scene lately.

Drumcode returns with its flagship A-Sides series, led by a huge new Adam Beyer single that highlights the 20-track compilation.

If you want a snapshot of techno in any given year, look no further than Drumcode’s annual A-Sides compilation. The release broadly charts the evolution of the genre, while giving a platform to standout demo’s Adam Beyer has received across the course of the year with many emerging artists finding their music on Drumcode for the first time. Case in point – Wehbba, Charles D and Raxon who all debuted on the label via a track on the A-Sides series and have gone on to become regular contributors to Beyer’s influential labels.

This year’s compilation features an exciting mix of established heavy-hitters, alongside a slew of new faces set to make their mark on the genre. ‘We Don’t Say Please’ – is emblematic of Adam Beyer’s sound in 2025 – fresh, experimental and thriving on cross-genre pollinations, as elements of bass music, rap and techno collide, underpinned by a distinctive UK vocal. The results are inspiring.

Elsewhere, the 20-track compilation brims with highlights. HI-LO’s ‘NYC to Amsterdam’ has inflections of New York house fused with driving techno elements. Nicole Moudaber returns to DC in cahoots with the rising ZLATA for the super-charged ‘Report to the Dancefloor’. Oscar L & Charles D mint a new collaborative partnership with the immersive, spacey cut ‘Lift Me Up’. LUSU continue their red-hot run following the recent ‘Move 2 the Groove’ EP, and craft a straight-up mind-mashing single ‘LIKE THIS’. Mark Reeve is in trademark strong form with hypnotic ‘My Mind’, which comes to life via a massive synth led. The fantastic Kaufmann shares her ‘People are Strange’, a nod to a classic vox, re-contextualised for a modern techno audience.

As is tradition, a troupe of ascendant producers land on Drumcode for the first time. They include Uruguay’s Enzo Monza, who delivers the crisp ‘Late Night’ – a favourite of Beyer’s; Mattia Saviola, whose ‘Parallel Dimension’ is a powerful cut with fantastic sound design; Romanian artist Tao Andra, who shares the celestial ‘Unity’; and long-time industry stalwart AdamK, who makes a richly deserved Drumcode debut in partnership with Vikthor feat. MC Stretch on the stunning ‘Silence + The Sound’.

Drumcode returns with its flagship A-Sides series, led by a huge new Adam Beyer single that highlights the 20-track compilation.

If you want a snapshot of techno in any given year, look no further than Drumcode’s annual A-Sides compilation. The release broadly charts the evolution of the genre, while giving a platform to standout demo’s Adam Beyer has received across the course of the year with many emerging artists finding their music on Drumcode for the first time. Case in point – Wehbba, Charles D and Raxon who all debuted on the label via a track on the A-Sides series and have gone on to become regular contributors to Beyer’s influential labels.

This year’s compilation features an exciting mix of established heavy-hitters, alongside a slew of new faces set to make their mark on the genre. ‘We Don’t Say Please’ – is emblematic of Adam Beyer’s sound in 2025 – fresh, experimental and thriving on cross-genre pollinations, as elements of bass music, rap and techno collide, underpinned by a distinctive UK vocal. The results are inspiring.

Elsewhere, the 20-track compilation brims with highlights. HI-LO’s ‘NYC to Amsterdam’ has inflections of New York house fused with driving techno elements. Nicole Moudaber returns to DC in cahoots with the rising ZLATA for the super-charged ‘Report to the Dancefloor’. Oscar L & Charles D mint a new collaborative partnership with the immersive, spacey cut ‘Lift Me Up’. LUSU continue their red-hot run following the recent ‘Move 2 the Groove’ EP, and craft a straight-up mind-mashing single ‘LIKE THIS’. Mark Reeve is in trademark strong form with hypnotic ‘My Mind’, which comes to life via a massive synth led. The fantastic Kaufmann shares her ‘People are Strange’, a nod to a classic vox, re-contextualised for a modern techno audience.

As is tradition, a troupe of ascendant producers land on Drumcode for the first time. They include Uruguay’s Enzo Monza, who delivers the crisp ‘Late Night’ – a favourite of Beyer’s; Mattia Saviola, whose ‘Parallel Dimension’ is a powerful cut with fantastic sound design; Romanian artist Tao Andra, who shares the celestial ‘Unity’; and long-time industry stalwart AdamK, who makes a richly deserved Drumcode debut in partnership with Vikthor feat. MC Stretch on the stunning ‘Silence + The Sound’.

The new album by the collective that for
over 25 years has been among the most
representative names of the Italian dance
and electronic scene worldwide.
“BLOOOM”, this is the title of the new release,
will be available in all traditional stores and
on digital platforms starting January 16.
Set against the soundscapes that have become
the Planet Funk trademark, the lyrics by Dan
Black attempt to give voice to a fragile and
contradictory condition of our time: an
intensified sensitivity that, instead of
turning into openness and connection, often
becomes emotional overload. A generation
constantly overwhelmed by excessive stimuli,
relentless information, anxieties, and fears,
called upon to find its way in a world thaoffers neither pauses nor silence. In this paradox, sensitivity is no longer just a natural gift, but
a daily effort: staying open and receptive without being overwhelmed, trying to preserve a human and
vulnerable gaze in order, despite everything, to fully appreciate life and the present moment.
The single’s artwork—like that of the album—curated by Nationhood, visually conveys this tension: the
distant sirens of a city that amplifies feelings of disorientation and loneliness even when we are
surrounded by thousands of people.
“BLOOOM”, preceded by the single “FEEL EVERYTHING”, arrives at the end of an intense, creative year
full of music, which saw Alex Neri (DJ, keyboards, synthesizers), Marco Baroni (keyboards, piano,
programming), Dan Black (vocals and guitar), and Alex Uhlmann (vocals and guitar) engaged between
studio work, collaborations, and live performances in Italy and abroad. A journey that today
transforms into new energy, into an even more open vision oriented toward the future.
Exactly one year ago, PLANET FUNK released “Nights in White Satin”, a single that reached the top
positions of the radio charts and launched a season rich in concerts and DJ sets in Italy and around
the world. The subsequent “I Get a Rush”, the collaboration with Alfa and Manu Chao on the remix of
their hit “A me mi piace”, and the track “È Naturale” together with Francesca Michielin, confirmed
Planet Funk’s ability to renew themselves and engage with different musical worlds while always
remaining true to their own identity.
Throughout this journey, music has inevitably intertwined with life. The memory of Sergio Della Monica
and Domenico “Gigi” Canu, pillars and founding souls of the PLANET FUNK project, is a living part of
this new chapter. Their vision, creative spirit, and way of understanding music continue to be a
constant guide, a deep root from which new ideas and new directions can grow.
“BLOOOM” is also this: a personal and artistic blossoming that, starting from the legacy left by
Sergio and Gigi, transforms into a living process of growth, metamorphosis, and discovery. An album
that does not look back with nostalgia, but forward with awareness, momentum, and a desire for
renewal.
Founded in 1999, for over 25 years PLANET FUNK have represented one of the most important, solid, and
influential realities in the international electronic music scene. Born from the meeting of Souled
Out! (Domenico “GG” Canu and Sergio Della Monica) and Kamasutra (Marco Baroni and Alex Neri), and
following their debut with “Non Zero Sumness” in 2002 (a gold record and a turning point for the
band), PLANET FUNK have managed to reinvent themselves over time while maintaining a unique sonic
identity. This has led them to collaborate with internationally renowned artists, deliver iconic
performances around the world, create soundtracks and international advertising campaigns, and
continue to demonstrate constant creative vitality

‘In Too Deep’ is the third single to have been released from Dead Or Alive’s 1985 CBS Records album, “Youthquake”. • To give it more impact at radio, the single was given a twist with a new remix. • This Limited Edition 7” vinyl picture disc continues the 40th anniversary celebrations of this album. • ‘In Too Deep’ entered the UK Singles chart on 29th June 1985 and became the second Top 20 hit from “Youthquake”, reaching #14 with a nine-week chart run. • ‘In Too Deep’ was released in several territories and charted in Australia, Finland, Germany and Ireland.

Imagine having a song go viral for 17 years - without even knowing it. That's exactly what happened to the German 1980s band FEX. And this isn't just any song - it's The Most Mysterious Song on the Internet, a track that puzzled music detectives for decades before finally being identified in November 2024. Now, it has been officially released - twice.

The Story in Brief:
Sometime around 1984, a song was broadcasted on NDR Radio. The name of the song was Subways Of Your Mind - only found out 40 years later in November 2024. Back then, a listener recorded the NDR show on cassette, a common practice at the time. Decades later, the tape resurfaced, but while most songs from the recording were identified, one remained an enigma. On March 18, 2007, the track was uploaded to the internet in an attempt to uncover its origins. Due to its now-iconic opening lyric, it was tentatively titled Like The Wind. Over time, the mystery deepened, and the song was given a nickname: The Most Mysterious Song - or simply TMMS.

Starting in 2019, a dedicated Reddit group, TheMysteriousSong, now boasting over 63,000 members, took up the search. They meticulously documented every lead, hoping to solve the riddle of the song's origins. Then, in 2024, the breakthrough: Reddit user marjin1412 reached out to musician Michael Hädrich after discovering a reference to his band FEX in an old newspaper article. Hädrich, FEX's keyboardist, provided a recording from an old demo cassette which included an alternative version of the song. On November 4, 2024, the mystery was officially solved: FEX was the band, Subways Of Your Mind was the title.

What Happened Next:
Since then, FEX has released two singles - both featuring Subways Of Your Mind - through the Berlin-based independent label The Outer Edge. First, the demo cassette version was pressed onto vinyl, as the original NDR radio recording remained lost (see EDGE-028). The Remastered Demo Mix single instantly topped Bandcamp's global charts, holding the #1 spot for several days. By then, it was clear: this was more than just an internet curiosity. A real fanbase had formed. Enthusiastic comments on the sales page ranged from "best post-punk song to ever exist" to "FEX themselves (are) perhaps the most underrated musicians of all time."

But the story didn't end there. A higher-quality version of the NDR radio recording was rediscovered in late december, remastered, and now sent for a second vinyl pressing: the TMMS Version. This new vinyl 7" is backed with Talking Hands another great and unissued song that was found on the demo cassette.

Fame Comes with a Price
Suddenly, time isn't standing still for FEX. The band had to come to terms with the fact that they had become Lostwave super stars. A FEX fan club quickly formed on Reddit, fan-hosted FEX parties are popping up, and the internet is demanding more - an album, merchandise, live performances. But how does a band prepare for a comeback after a 40-year hiatus?

For now, FEX is carefully considering their next steps. Their demo cassette contains six songs - and a few other recordings have resurfaced which probably could be restored and compiled. But foremost, a brand new re-recording of Subways Of Your Mind is in progress.

One thing is certain: The Most Mysterious Song will continue its unstoppable journey around the world. Don't miss this (second) chance to own a piece of music history!

When you’re running a label, a demo occasionally comes across your desk that makes you reconsider everything you thought your label was all about. For Balmat, such was the case with this stunning album from Stephen Vitiello, Brendan Canty, and Hahn Rowe. It sounds like nothing we’ve released so far—and that very otherness opened up a whole new world of possibilities for us.

Fans of ambient, experimental electronic music, and sound art will be familiar with Vitiello, a New York native, long based in Virginia, who has collaborated with a cross-generational list of greats: Taylor Deupree, Steve Roden, Lawrence English, Tetsu Inoue, Nam June Paik, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Pauline Oliveros, and many more. On labels like 12k, Room40, and Sub Rosa, he has explored a wide range of minimalism, microsound, lowercase, ambient, improv, and other styles. But this album is something different. It may begin in ambient-adjacent territory, but it quickly veers off, and it just keeps zigzagging, taking on elements of krautrock, post-punk, dub, and the groove-heavy interplay of groups like Natural Information Society and 75 Dollar Bill.

This stylistic turn is thanks in large part to Vitiello’s choice of collaborators. “We’re coming from three different schools,” Vitiello says: “sound art, art rock, and punk rock.”

Active since the early 1980s, Rowe—a violinist, guitarist, and producer/engineer—has played with, or manned the boards for, a frankly jaw-dropping list of musicians: Herbie Hancock, Gil Scott-Heron, the Last Poets, Roy Ayers, John Zorn, Glenn Branca, Swans, Live Skull, Brian Eno, David Byrne, Anohni, R.E.M., Yoko Ono, and many more. But he might be most closely associated with Hugo Largo, a one-of-a-kind New York quartet—two basses, vocals, and Rowe’s violin—that in the late 1980s helped lay the groundwork for what would eventually become known as post-rock.

Canty, of course, is the legendary drummer of Fugazi, the visionary DC post-hardcore group, as well as Rites of Spring before them, and, currently, the Messthetics, a Dischord-signed instrumental trio with guitarist Anthony Pirog and Fugazi bassist Joe Lally.

Vitiello’s trio first collaborated on First, a 17-minute piece released on the Longform Editions label in 2023. Second picks up where the freeform drift of First left off, channeling the trio’s exploratory energies into more intentionally structured tracks and—in a real first for Balmat—some almost shockingly muscular grooves. “Sometimes my projects are more conceptually driven,” Vitiello says, “but I think this was more musically geared. I just wanted to open up the references and bring in an incredible drummer, bring in some melodies, and I’m sort of the center.” But his collaborators, he stresses, are “vastly creative in making anything I might suggest better.”

Like its predecessor, Second took shape in phases, shifting between improvisation and collage. Vitiello laid down the skeleton of the music at home, sketching out initial ideas on Rhodes keyboard and acoustic and electric guitar; he then fed the parts through samplers and his modular system, recording 10- or 20-minute jams. Once he had edited them into more structured forms, he hit the studio with Canty, who added not just drums but also bass and piano; finally, Vitiello took the results of those sessions to Rowe, who played violin, viola, electric bass, and 12-string acoustic and bowed electric guitar, and assisted in some of the final structuring and mixdown.

A few more surprises along the way: Reanimator’s Don Godwin, the studio engineer where Vitiello recorded with Canty, contributed what he calls “resonant dustpan”; and none other than Animal Collective’s Geologist, who just happened to be in the studio that day, sits in on hurdy gurdy on “Mrphgtrs1,” the album’s gorgeous, stunningly atmospheric drone closer. “I love these chance encounters,” Vitiello says. “Somebody I admire, a group I admire—that was an unexpected gift.”

An unexpected gift is a great way of describing Second as a whole: three veteran musicians venturing outside their usual zones and finding a new collaborative language together. The results can’t be neatly slotted into any given genre; they belong not to any given category, but to the spirit of conversation itself.

Matthew Dear's Black City Can't Be Found On Any Map. It's A Composite, An Imaginary Metropolis Peopled By Desperate Cases, Lovelorn Souls, And Amoral Motives. Like Most Literary Gothams, Black City Is A Place To Love And Hate, As Seedy As A Nightclub's Back Room And As Seductive As The Promise Of Power. Matthew Dear, The Musician, May Live In New York City, But The Matthew Dear Of Black City Inhabits A Sound-world Unlike Any Other: A Monument To The Shadowy Side Of Urban Life That Bumps And Creaks, Shudders And Wakes Up Screaming In The Middle Of The Night. Black City Is Matthew Dear's Third Album On Ghostly International, And It's His Darkest And Most Engrossing Work To Date.

From The rst Notes Of Album Opener "honey", It's Clear That The Love-obsessed Matthew Dear Of 2007's Asa Breed Has Given Way To A More Existentially Paranoid Entity, As Creeping Tempos Dominate, Cavernous Atmospherics Envelop The Listener, And Strange Distortions Crackle On The Horizon. In Black City, Nothing Is At It Seems: Leadoff Single "little People (black City)" Is A Nine-and-a-half Minute Disco odyssey, subverting its gleaming electronic lead with eerily giddy backing vocals and cryptic, ominous lyrics ("a frozen wasted heart / has died", "love me like a clown"); "You Put a Smell on Me" is a sordid sex romp set to hysterically chattering percussion and a serrated synth line that will set your teeth on edge; "More Surgery" at rst recalls the barely-there Krautrock of Harmonia in its burbling minimalism, until Dear's chanted chorus of "Alter genetics / to make my body glow / I need more surgery / there's so much more to know" sends the track hurtling into a dystopian future.

And yet, for all the foreboding moods on Black City, it's the album's sweeter moments that illustrate Matthew Dear's growing maturity as a songwriter. "Slowdance" is a futuristic lullaby in which Dear articulates a lover's helplessness ("I can't be the one to tell you everything's wrong") over breathy, Arthur Russell-esque cello swishes; the album-closing "Gem" is an achingly simple, reverb-drenched piano ballad that ends with a long, slow fade. Even in Matthew Dear's Black City, there is hope.

Two iconic 80s Disco/Boogie anthems of the era are set for a re-release on 12-inch vinyl via RCA, with a fresh mix from Brooklyn-based producer, Mike Maurro.

Keni Burke - Risin' to the Top (A Mike Maurro Mix)

'’Risin’ to the Top’, originally released in 1982 on Burke’s third solo album, ‘Changes’, has become Burke’s most successful hit as a solo artist since departing from his former band, Five Stairsteppers. Countless producers have utilised the song as a choice sample for their own tracks with artists such as Mary J. Blige, LL Cool J, Madlib and more.

Maurro’s mix works the stems and gives the record some fresh guitar licks alongside new percussive elements, whilst maintaining a heavy lean into the sensual, laid-back swing of the original.'

Evelyn ‘Champagne’ King - I'm In Love (A Mike Maurro Mix)

'The flip side sees the release of Evelyn 'Champagne' King’s hit single ‘I’m In Love’, originally released in 1981 and taken from King’s fourth studio album of the same name. A feel-good, sing-a-long anthem, once again given a fresh feel thanks to Maurro’s new take on the record.

Both tracks serve as trump cards to whip up any dancefloor at the right time'

There is propably no single event that has as potent of an
effect on the german Techno- scene as the fall of the Berlin
Wall. A city divided suddenly, in one single night, became
uni¦ed, opening up both sides for the new experiences and
ways to view life the other might have. Berlin’s eastside with
it’s empty, unused warehouses proved to be a fertile breeding
ground for free spirits and those carrying a newfound ¦re in
their eyes. This was the zero hour. The Consolidation. And it
is this mindset, spirit and ¦re of Consolidation that Shaleen
conjures on her debut EP of the same name. The title track
opens up by sampling John F. Kennedy’s legendary “Berlin”
speech from 1964, before absolutely caving in the concrete
with a beyond-heavy kickdrum and a very stripped down but
effective 909-percussion section. Spursed in along the track’s
runtime are droning sirens and JFK continuing to beckon you
to lose yourself in the metropolitan bowels. This is the
anthem of a past revolution. On Deconstruction, Shaleen
goes down a slightly more basement oriented route. The
Percussion shares the title track’s stripped down
effectiveness, but the Groove is more rolling, the Vocal
samples are more distorted and there are sharp synths
cutting through the beats like shards of broken glass. Of
course, a revolution wouldn’t be complete without a mob so
both Cadency aka Hector Oaks and New Frames have put
their spin on the EP’s title track. Mr. Cadeny is up ¦rst and,
being no stranger to revolutionary anthems, has given
Consolidation an almost contemplative mood in his Remix,by adding a very subtle melody. This doesn’t mean it hits any
less hard, mind you, there is an incredibly strong drive to the
track, paired with an almost constantly looping vocal and the
sirens going into overdrive, this would be the track to drive
crowds into a frenzy. Meanwhile New Frames’ track is the
kind of thing you wouldn’t want to encounter alone in a dark
alleyway. The sub-basses are heavy enough to terraform
Mars, the Jungle-esque Synthlines roar and snarl at the
listener and every drop feels like a right hook to the chin. The
original’s vocal is cut in a way that it only adds to the
stomping rhythm, putting you in a mood to throw bricks. So
while this record showcases an aggressive sound and a
mood for revolution, it is important to remember it’s title.
Consolidation. It echoes a message of uni¦cation. Of
standing together. Because together we are, have been and
will always be stronger than by ourselves.

Group is a project with its own sound and a gradually expanding style, and Seedman perfectly reflects these attributes. With 160925_1145, the first cut on side A, the ritualism he has previously exhibited on other albums such as Esoteric Free Afrika, or more recently with Broken Faces, is somewhat apparent, due to the slow cadence, steady rhythm and tribal arguments. 160205_1066 is created from another perspective, however, it is not what it seems because from the first bars there is a syncopated and constant rhythmic pattern that places you in an industrial scenario, and gradually a simple two-tone melody appears that completely changes its initial musical context. 170218_1475 moves between an industrial and dark ambient concept, as it mixes gloomy atmospheres with deep breaks.

The sonic properties of 160131_0683, the cut that opens the B-side, connect with an unexplored environment, with a new, recently discovered and inhospitable scenario, since among other things we can appreciate sounds of machines, radio signals, filtered and choppy voices, combined with disturbing acoustic phenomena. 170213_1455 is a track that describes quite concisely the creative sense of Group, and for this we must take into account that it could be catalogued as a techno production, with groove and aimed at the dancefloor, however, he manages to minimise all these factors by giving it a volatile and atmospheric aspect. 170105_1398 closes the B-side of the vinyl, returning once again to the tribalism and ritualism that characterises many of Group’s productions, given that on this occasion his rhythm is not diluted, it has much more presence and manages to generate a hypnotic state.

In addition to these six tracks that make up the entire vinyl tracklist, Seedman also presents a couple of bonus tracks in digital format. And the first of them, The beast11, already arouses curiosity because its title is not due to a sequence of numbers, as is usual in this project. Musically, it once again shows Group’s ability to adapt any environment to a sonic degradation very much in keeping with his style. 150407_0166, the last track on the album, is an ode to chaos, a hodgepodge of frequencies devoid of rhythm that appropriately serves as an outro.

Kinn turns the Post-Rock continuum inside out with his sophomore album, Dogtooth.

Shifting focus between his present self and his misled teenage years, 'Dogtooth' sees London born and raised sound art graduate Fred Lomas contemplate the vulnerability of youth, addiction and suicide as Kinn. Unabashed in their creative ambition, Kinn's tongue-in-cheek 'dread-voyeurism' is underpinned by a palpably sincere vulnerability that seeps through their dynamic and rewardingly dense records.

An insight into Fred's formative years can be unraveled from his nickname "Dread", originally given to him by his parents. Growing up in North London as a 'constantly out of the house' youth, Fred only had eyes on any counterculture he could find to defy the city's notorious empty capitalist centric mainstream culture, skateboarding, graffiti, and terrible punk bands which would only last 1-3 rehearsals (max). As a teenager he experienced the notorious 2011 Tottenham riots, which is often referenced in the artist's output and greatly informed their sensibilities. Barely an adult, he was confronted first hand with concepts of constant hostility and corruption which were seemingly welded to his surroundings, corruption formed by high rises and international political scandals taking place only a short journey away.

Even today, Dogtooth reflects on this contrast of community and anger and surmises it to be part and parcel of modern metropolitan life, looking to peel away the bad looking for meaning, comfort and ways of goofing off amidst oppressive forces, sirens and snake oil salesmen everywhere.

Drumcode’s beloved A-Sides compilation makes a welcome return after a two-year absence, with a mammoth 25-track feast covering every shade of the techno spectrum split across seven, 12 inch parts. The project was devised in 2012 as a way of showcasing the wealth of strong material Adam Beyer receives each year, which due to Drumcode’s busy release schedule, might not otherwise find a home on the label. Since then, it’s grown to become an essential fixture on the techno release schedule and a marker for where the genre stands in any given year.

For part four, Nicolas Taboada cranks the dial on ‘Circles’ melding breakbeats with modulated vocal samples and underlying techno power, as BEC hits with ‘Vibration’ a ferocious, siren signalling rocket.

On the flip, Avision’s ‘Find Myself’ leads listeners into a state of hypnosis with warped vocal refrains, storming kicks and rising synths. Closing out the EP Cosmic Boys unleash a robot wielding, trance flavoured whirlwind.

Remastered limited edition double vinyl with double-sided screenprinted poster-cover (sleeve folds out to be one huge poster). A real collectors item!

When Off Off came out around June 1984, one couldn’t speak of an independent music scene in Portugal. Warm Records’ vague existence didn’t have any impact and Dansa do Som’s inaugural release appeared only in December. 10 years after the revolution, after two IMF interventions, a lot of political instability (not to say turmoil, in the first couple of years) and the natural excesses of a sudden burst of freedom, the Portuguese consumer had more choices but a generally poor standard of living. There was no entrepreneurial culture and serious second thoughts about investing private money in risky ventures.

After many complaints about the whole music scene (institutions, critics and record label executives, popular and classical music alike), something that would continue well beyond the end of the decade, Telectu decided to finance, record, produce, release and sell an album with complete independence from outside structures. Their karmic reward was profit. According to Vítor Rua, Off Off was the only album fully payed by the duo and the only one that really payed off. Not an easy accomplishment for a double LP housed in a large (also double-sided) screenprint with complicated cuts and folds. The artwork was conceived by António Palolo, a friend and multidisciplinary artist. It was based on a collage of heavily saturated and xeroxed polaroids framed in shocking pink and green. Palolo was considered the third member of Telectu, regularly producing slides, video and other visual support for their shows. The inspiration for the type of cover came from GRM’s Gramme series.

Off Off is divided in four distinct sides, each one corresponding to a “theme” or “function” related to Telectu’s manifold artistic interests and interactions. The titles are also gateways to influences and a small portion of Portuguese cultural life:

- Side 1 / “Diagonale” is dedicated to Egídio Álvaro, art critic and gallery director (he opened Diagonale in Paris). Performance art was arguably his main artistic concern over the years, so the music on this side is suggested for use by one or more performers in live or playback situations. The three tracks segue into each other, linked by a synth arpeggio much in the same way as Telectu’s previous “Belzebu” álbum (1983);

- Side 2 / “Anarké” is dedicated to the composer Filipe Pires, one of Jorge Lima Barreto’s recurring invocations when asked about worthwhile contemporary music in Portugal. It is subtitled “concert music”, proposing «a new form of listening». Three tracks also, and these are separated by “clap interludes”, which basically consisted in the following: JLB and VR each had a pair of headphones on, and they clapped their hands according to the rhythm of the music each one was listening. Both musicians were interacting with a different Steve Reich piece: Vítor with “Music for Mallet Instruments”, Jorge with “Six Pianos”. The result is disjointed clapping, an awkwardly deliberate celebration of their own music. Telectu applauded themselves.

- Side 3 / “Cornucópia” is subtitled “music for theatre” and dedicated to Luís Miguel Cintra and Luís Lima Barreto (JLB’s brother), both connected to the Cornucópia theatre company. The side consists of several short pieces previously used as interludes in the Cornucópia staging of “Mariana Espera Casamento” (1983). Field recordings, mood pieces, ambience and a numeric poem (“Soneto Soma 14x”, by E.M. de Melo e Castro) read by João Perry, a quite well-known stage actor. His voice is treated with a flanger effect;

- Side 4 / “Palolo” is “video music”. It’s a one-take mix recorded from cassette sources (Telectu studio experiences) and done live while watching António Palolo’s Om film (1978) projected on the living room wall. It’s a deep, immersive, quasi-mystical 20-minute piece perfectly suiting the meditative, abstract, fluid images created by Palolo by mixing paint and water inside a bathtub. One imagines the Cosmos, hardly suspecting the technique. The film is 90 minutes long, so the music on the LP is of course edited.

The six titles on sides 1 and 2 evoke demons, all of them with conflicting symbolism, since it varies from culture to culture, religion to religion. No explanation is given and Vítor Rua has no idea where this imagery comes from. During virtually the whole stretch of the 1980s, Jorge was the one in charge of titles and concepts, and Vítor didn’t bother too much even reading the liner notes :) In any case, when you synchronize the listening experience with the imagery, a powerful impression emerges, a feeling of being in the presence of these entities while placing yourself inside the sonic narrative.

Off Off is undoubtedly a seminal album in the history of electronic music, as much Heldon as Fripp & Eno, jazz and American minimalism, cosmic out-thereness, mantric miniatures. Telectu at the height of their powers, still very early on, delivering an album-manifesto advocating intermedia art and the fierce independence of Portuguese musicians «from the scum of capitalist music industry monopolies. It’s a path to follow, albeit one that requires enduring hardships and retaliation from music industry gangsters.» Despite a few journalists deemed «capable of being free», the media are «enslaved by the dominant and fascist imbecility of the speculators of light music.» Off Off is addressed to those journalists «and to an audience angry at the cultural misery imposed upon us ..., certain that this music will open new horizons of musical pleasure in the conception of Portuguese avant-garde music, and in the open consciousness of us all. OFF OFF repeats Freedom.»

Those two words are a direct lift from Alberto Arbasino’s 1968 book Off Off, the basis of which is a critical analysis of Theodor Adorno’s and Dwight MacDonald’s ideas concerning the stratification of culture in different levels (high, mid and low) and the pervasiveness of mass culture in the form of a culture industry. In very simplistic terms, and that is precisely the point that inspired Jorge, Arbasino argued that it was possible and desirable to effect a revolution from below, cultivating alternative circuits completely cut-off from what he termed the in-in reality. Telectu’s record was a deliberate demonstration that it could be done, displaying Freedom in the face of all the gatekeepers and other human obstacles.

There was an immediate buzz surrounding This Is What I Know About Being Gigantic, the 2001 debut EP by Seattle indie phenomenon Minus the Bear. It wasn’t the kind of viral interest that translated into a string of sold-out tour dates, but it meant that the tuned-in crowd eagerly anticipated their next move. To help stir up the excitement for their first proper full-length, the band followed up Gigantic with a promo CD featuring two tracks from their upcoming album, a short instrumental interlude, an exclusive new song, and a demo version of another album track. Packaged in a cardboard slipcase, it was the kind of cheaply manufactured promotional item that could be handed out for free at shows or thrown in as a bonus in online orders—a relic of the final years of the CD age before the advent of the iPod and mp3. The sampler CD was christened Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them in a nod to the upcoming album Highly Refined Pirates.

While these kinds of promotional items typically had an ephemeral existence, filed away in some neglected binder of CDs or tossed out during one of the many apartment-to-apartment moves of the band’s principal demographic of urban twentysomethings, Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them had a curiously persistent presence. Perhaps it was because it was packaged more like a proper EP than a sampler. It certainly helped that it was a free release, meaning anyone who came to a show likely walked away from the evening with the cardboard slipcase tucked in their jacket pocket. It’s also noteworthy that the EP showcased three songs from the back half of Highly Refined Pirates rather than the album’s live staples and fan favorites from side A. Whatever the combination of factors at play, “YAR!” took on a life of its own and was ultimately re-packaged in a jewel case and sold as a proper EP in 2004 in the wake of Highly Refined Pirates’ success. And now in 2026, it’s getting its first proper release on vinyl.

Opening with the driving beat, chirping guitars, and funky low-end of “Spritz!!! Spritz!!!,” Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them quickly cements Minus the Bear’s foundation of sophisticated revelry, a spirit further emphasized in the Highly Refined Pirates title choice. Part of the Bear’s lore involves them playing their first show three days after 9/11, and just as New York City’s indie rock scene took a sharp turn towards nightclub debauchery and a rejection of ‘90s rock’s dour fatalism in the wake of the World Trade Center tragedy, so did the Bear turn away from the Seattle’s scene’s penchant for gloom and angst towards a cerebral after-hours pop sound. The inclusion of “Women We Haven’t Met Yet” helped elevate what could have otherwise been seen as an album deep cut into a lead track. The fact that these first two songs essentially served as preview singles over future Pirates hits like “Monkey!!!Knife!!!Fight!!!” and “Absinthe Party At The Fly Honey Warehouse” speaks to the high quality of every song the band cranked out in their early years. The EP’s exclusive track “Drop It Like It’s Hot” presaged Snoop Dogg’s mega-hit single of the same name by two years, but whereas Snoop leaned into restrained minimalism, the Bear unleashes some of their fiercest work here, building off of interwoven riffs and electronic layers to a climax of stabbing guitars and hollered vocals. Much like Nirvana’s Hormoaning EP, Minus the Bear’s Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them was initially more of a marketing gimmick than a proper release, but given the popularity of the pivotal studio albums that stemmed from the same recording sessions, these extended plays serve as compelling companion pieces that have earned a special spot in their respective fanbases’ hearts. Suicide Squeeze is proud to offer Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them on vinyl on September 18, 2026, nearly 25 years after the band’s first show.

Remastered for vinyl by Bernie Grundman with lacquers cut at 45rpm, this limited edition pressing of 1000 copies on Puget Sound-colored vinyl helps document and preserve the exciting early years of one of American indie rock’s most beloved acts.

“I like to work with a variety of instruments and set ups,” says Mark Van Hoen, sometimes known as Locust or Autocreation but here working under his own name on the excellent Plan For A Miracle, his first physical release of solo music since 2018’s Invisible Threads. ”Sometimes it’s literally in my studio, with all the hardware electronics available. Sometimes the laptop, using software instruments. Some of the tracks on this record were recorded in the desert (Joshua Tree) using a 4-track tape machine and small modular synthesiser set up. Each track was recorded in different location using different instruments, which accounts for the distinction between each piece. It’s also about my own reaction to my environment, and what’s going on in my life at the time.”

The Croydon-born Van Hoen started musical life in the early 1990s, signing for R&S records in 1993 but developing his own, myriad and distinctive style across a range of releases on Touch, Editions Mego and other labels, using a battery of instruments, including analogue synthesizers and taking a number of different approaches to recording, rather than ploughing a single sonic furrow. He has worked on a number of collaborations, including with Nick Holton and Neil Halstead of Slowdive, under the moniker of Black Hearted Brother - their Stars Are Our Home was released in 2013. “I have known Neil Halstead since 1992,” says Van Hoen. “He shared a house with me for a couple of years, and the music I was making and listening to along with clubs I was attending had an influence particularly on Pygmalion, the final Slowdive album on Creation.”

Each track on Plan For A Miracle does indeed sound like a world unto itself, a mini-environment, a weather condition, an ecosystem created for the moment. It’s a collection of tracks recorded over the past few years, released on Bandcamp - despite his apparent absence, Van Hoen works constantly. Opener “Climates”, in its exquisite limpidity, feels like a homage to Brian Eno, one of his most formative influences in his teen years, commencing with Music For Films, which he bought in 1979. “This Is For Them”, feels like a ghostlike throwback to early drum & bass or electronica, reminiscent of his own, earliest outings. “There have been a number of requests from labels to make some more music like my very early releases on R&S,” says Van Hoen. “This is part of ‘letting go’ and realising that there’s nothing less creative about going back to those styles again.”

“Pencil Of Spheres” is something else again, a magnificent, imaginary glass structure, shimmering, refracting, without visible means of suspension, a thing of impossible beauty. “Electric Lights” evokes an abandoned fairground, its lights still pulsating, its music lingering. “The Underpass”, meanwhile, insofar as it reminds of anything at all, is faintly reminiscent of Cluster or Neu’s! West German ambience, the urban mundane rendered magical, the sodium lights, the whitewashed walls. The reverberant, faintly oriental chimes of “Insight” transport us yet again, burgeoning and intensifying.

The landscapes, the skyscapes rendered on Plan For A Miracle feel unpopulated as a rule - but when he does introduce vocal elements, Van Hoen has a history of doing so to spectacular effect - think of “Real Love” from 1998’s Playing With Time, the seductive intonation of its title recurring throughout like a series of massive holograms, echoing, stuttering, breaking up, surging. Here, there are just the faintest of vocals, barely distinct, disquieting. “There’s been a bit of a game changer in recent times,” explains Van Hoen. “AI software that enables you to extract vocals and instrument parts from virtually any recording. That means sampling individual parts from existing sources is no longer limited to the original mix exposing certain parts soloed. The vocal parts I use are from multiple sources and often pitch shifted altered rhythmically and melodically.“ There’s further vocal chatter on “I Really Do”, proceeding at a faster pace as if giving chase, or being pursued - distant, enigmatic. “The Music”, meanwhile, its beat tolling, lost in its own fog of static, features a curious intonation, like the ghost of a lost Walker Brother.

Sadly, the album’s title is in reference to a personal tragedy on Van Hoen’s part - the loss of his wife. Titles such as “I Won’t Give Up”, which faintly reminds of another Eno masterpiece, Another Green World, in its nautical hurly-bury, or the pastoral strains of “Mrs Who”, heavily clouded with sadness, seem to allude to this. “In fact the record was recorded entirely before she passed away,” says Van Hoen, “most of it before she even became very ill. The title was given to the album when it started to look like she wasn’t going to make it beyond a few months. It was something Osho said - “plan for a miracle” - so it was a statement of hope. Unfortunately it was not to be.” Although the album is non-thematic, non-specific in its atmospheres, sound paintings, elegant structures it most certainly stands as a magnificent monument to Osho’s memory.

-David Stubbs.

Recorded April 17 and 18, 1993, at the Union Grove Baptist Church, Ozark, Alabama.

The Wiregrass Singers' Dewey Williams began learning the shape-note tradition in his childhood. He studied under Judge Jackson, who authored the landmark 1934 hymnbook The Colored Sacred Harp. In 1971, Williams formally organized The Wiregrass Sacred Harp Singers to preserve the music full-time. This unified troupe began touring nationally and leading workshops, which ultimately launched them onto stages at the Smithsonian and Newport folk festivals up until Williams' passing in 1995 when the group disbanded. The African-American Sacred Harp tradition in the Wiregrass region has steeply declined since the start of the 21st century, due to an aging generation of singers, and today it is largely sustained through archival preservation and occasional multi-book singing meetups.

This raw recording, made at the Union Grove Baptist Church, Ozark in mid-April 1993 finds the group singing from B. F. White’s The Sacred Harp (1844), which together with his brother-in-law William Walker’s Southern Harmony (1835) formed the musical backbone of generations of Southern music and Southern musical styles.

"On almost any Sunday between the months of March and October, the season most conducive to travel and outdoor dinner-on-the- grounds, Sacred Harp devotés join with fellow songsters at the County Line Church in Slocomb, or the Mount Sinai Church in Henry County, or the Union Grove Baptist Church in Dale County, or at any one of a dozen or so churches in the southeast Alabama counties of Barbour, Coffee, Dale, Geneva, Houston and Pike, to form the square and sing fa-sol-la. Approximately fifteen African-American Sacred Harp singings occur annually in the Wiregrass region of southeast Alabama. A singing tradition characteristically associated with white culture in the Deep South, southeast Alabama has enjoyed a vibrant African-American Sacred Harp tradition for well over a century.

On a day of a typical African-American Sacred Harp Singing, the participants arrive casually in the late morning, seat themselves in the square according to voice part, and begin to sing. A dinner break occurs in the early afternoon, and the singers enjoy a covered-dish "dinner-on-the-grounds" (or in the church basement) prepared by the women. The most intense and emotional singing typically occurs after the dinner break. Each singer takes a turn leading the song of his choice. He walks to the middle of the square, calls out the song's page number and waits for the designated tuner to key the song. Singers are discouraged by the other singers from repeating a song that has already been sung, or "used." This proscription is often dispensed with, however, if the singer is particularly young, particularly old, or if the song has special significance to the individual song leader (perhaps the favorite song of a recently deceased relative).

Every singer is given an opportunity to lead a song. Often, older or more infirm singers will request younger singers to lead their songs for them. The motions of the song leaders are highly stylistic and often emotional. Young children are taught in singing school to mark time with their right arm while holding the book in their left. Typically, a singer will stand in place at the center of the square while leading the singing of the notes. When he begins to lead the lyrics portion of the song, he will often begin to "walk time," rhythmically pacing from one side of the square to the other, being careful never to turn his back on the tenor section. This "walking time" is unique to the African-American tradition. As a singer grows more confident he develops his own distinctive leading style. During fuguing songs in particular, he may gesture to each section of the square as its part joins in. Skilled song leaders often elicit applause or other emotional responses from the group. Occasionally a singer may fall into a state of spiritual ecstasy and "get happy." The episode might include a personal testimonial followed by a repeat of the last verse or refrain from the previous song. The singings break up around 5 P.M."
—Henry Willett, 1997 credits

For nearly four decades, since its founding during the mid 1980s, the Belgian imprint, Sub Rosa, has continuously plumbed the depths of numerous, radical creative histories, assembling a catalog of releases that has almost no equivalent, while remaining nearly impossible to nail down. That said, for most of its run, Sub Rosa has been primarily recognized for its rigorous explorations of the lesser explored shadows of experimental sound practice (sound-art, sound-poetry, early electronic and electroacoustic music, free-improvisation, etc.), delivering a remarkable body of artifacts that have collectively helped to rewrite history in their wake. While it's always been impossible to anticipate where the label might take us next, threading their catalog are plenty of releases that throw further wrenches in the cogs, expanding our understanding of what they pursue, as in the case of a handful of titles, appearing as early as the 1980s, dedicated to ethnographic field-recordings from various parts of the world. Among the most striking and celebrated of these was 2017's Ethiopian Urban And Tribal Music: Mindanoo Mistiru / Gold From Wax, comprising an astounding body of recordings made by Ragnar Johnson and Ralph Harrisson in Ethiopia during 1971, reissuing material originally released by Lyrichord the following year. Now, Sub Rosa returns to the incredible work embarked upon by the pair and captured on that same trip with Ethiopian Musics 1971, comprising the recordings originally released by Ocora shortly after their completion, expanded in this edition to include an entire disc of never before released music. Widely regarded as some of the most important field-recordings ever made of indigenous Ethiopian folk music (as captivating and intoxicating as they are revelatory: providing insights into the roots of the country's singular traditions of popular music and jazz that have come to be celebrated the world over), this incredible collection is issued by Sub Rosa in a beautifully produced 2LP edition, complemented by a four page insert providing detailed descriptions of each song, as well as notes by the ethnomusicologists and recordists, as well as a 2CD edition, with a twelve page booklet. Insanely good and absolutely essential for any fan of field-recording, ethnomusicology, the music of Ethiopia, or the label's mission at large. Once again, Sub Rosa has defied our expectations and delivered a remarkably important intervention in the history of recorded sound.

Located in the Horn of Africa region of East Africa, few cultures are distinctly singular, while being so diverse (containing 80 distinct ethnic groups who speak 70 languages and 200 dialects) as that of Ethiopia. The home to some of the oldest surviving sects of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (each contributing important aspects of its collective cultural body), particularly the country's culinary and musical traditions have become celebrated the world over, and (generally speaking) feel entirely independent of those of its neighbors. Given this, it's unsurprising that, during the summer of 1971, the young ethnographer, Ragnar Johnson, accompanied by Ralph Harrisson, traveled to Ethiopia to begin his brief career as a field recording ethnomusicologist, capturing material on reels of magnetic tape that would be subsequently released across three LPs for Lyrichord and Ocora, respectively, coming to form a cornerstone of documentation and study of the country's many indigenous musical traditions, as well as providing wide, global access to them for the first time. While Johnson's recording career was relatively brief, ending toward the end of the decade when he began to focus more on teaching in UK universities, with a focus on the anthropology of art and social anthropology, his impact on the field was lasting. Between 1971 and 1979, in addition to those he made in Ethiopia, he made hugely significant recordings in Yemen (also issued by Lyrichord before being reissued by Sub Rosa) and Papua New Guinea, which were originally released by David Toop's Quartz Publications to wide celebration, before being revisited by Ideologic Organ in 2023.

While it's worth noting that commercial releases of ethnomusicological recordings by labels like Folkways, Lyrichord, and Ocora were still in their relatively early days when he entered the field, Johnson's recordings quickly stood apart for their vivid qualities and clarity of space, allowing them to stand the test of time. As he later stated: "I used a Uher Report L stereo tape recorder, BASF quarter inch tapes at a recording speed of seven and a half inches per second with two directional microphones mounted to record an isosceles triangle of stereo sound," he reveals. "The location of the microphones and musicians was critical. The musicians were fully informed of all aspects of the recording process."

Johnson's recordings are extremely vivid, there is a clear sense of space and the cries of the flutes exist across the entire stereo field. It's a reflection of Johnson's skill as a field recordist that his recordings continue to be reissued over forty years later. "I used a Uher Report L stereo tape recorder, BASF quarter inch tapes at a recording speed of seven and a half inches per second with two directional microphones mounted to record an isosceles triangle of stereo sound," he reveals. "The location of the microphones and musicians was critical. The musicians were fully informed of all aspects of the recording process… I used to enjoy being in the moment and hearing something wonderful despite the stress of the vigilance required to ensure that the recordings were accomplished according to plan. The responsibility is to record and document the music as effectively as possible so that it has been preserved for posterity. It is better to actually record music than to sit in a seminar room debating the ethics of recording music." It is this very ethos and sense of clarity that can be encountered across the length of Ethiopian Musics 1971.

For the sake of clarity, the two LPs of material that comprise Ethiopian Musics 1971 should be regarded as a single body of recordings alongside those made in Ethiopia by Ragnar Johnson and Ralph Harrisson during the summer of 1971 (previously issued by Lyrichord and reissued by Sub Rosa), and as two that have, until now, remained historically distinct. The first LP gathers that material released by Ocora during the early 1970s on Musiques Ethiopiennes, while the second comprises (as far as we can tell) twelve never before issued recordings, expanding the journey and making this the definitive edition of the release with its incredible total of 23 recordings of songs, allowing it ever greater scope to achieve the recordists' modus operandi of capturing the broadest and most diverse cross section of Ethiopia's many musical cultures, ranging from different forms of urban music captured in Addis Ababa, documenting largely orally transmitted idioms within which lyrical content is given greater emphasis than the instrumental components (played on masenko fiddles, craar and bagana lyres, washint flutes and kabaro drums), to folk idioms hailing from the Danakil desert and the border regions with Sudan and Kenya. There are songs sung and played in bars, divination chants, laments, dances, Christian songs, and Amharic sung poetry, to only begin to scratch the surface.

Ethiopian Musics 1971 is one of those rare albums where each musical moment is pure, intoxicating gold, while also being greater through the sum of its parts. There are the many songs, forming a rich tapestry of remarkable range across the respective two LPs/CDs (moments that wondrously flirt with sonic abstraction; hypnotic rhythms; pulsing chant; melodies that, in structural arrangement and tonal combination, help us reframe how such a thing might be understood, and a great deal more), each imbued with a remarkable directness and emotive sensibility, and there is the stunning quality of these recordings themselves, transporting each sound to our ears as though we intimately share its creator's space, while being imbued with the pure heart and remarkable spirit with which they were made. As we said before, it's little wonder, once heard, why these recordings and this music feels as fresh and relevant (enduring more than 50 years) today as when they were made. Once again, Sub Rosa has raised the bar with this essential addition to the incredible work that Ragnar Johnson and Ralph Harrisson did back in Ethiopia during 1971, radically expanding our access to the sounds that they captured with these stunning, beautifully produced 2LP and 2CD editions. Absolutely engrossing from the first sounding to the last, this one can't be missed.

Sometimes the title of an album tells you everything you need to know. Laurence Pike’s Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is like that: The music within represents a search for freedom, potentiality—liberatory strategies that transcend the ego and the solitary, atomized figure.

But in this case, the album title is also a red herring, because there is no jazz quintet here—just Pike, his drums, and his machines, not so much an ersatz ensemble as a purely notional one, a thought experiment equipped with drumsticks, circuitry, and the desire to go beyond hardwired limits.

And the results, strictly speaking, aren’t really jazz, though they incorporate the vocabulary of jazz, along with that of ambient, electronica, and post-rock. They are some other thing, cognizant of genre but never beholden to it. Again, we’re talking about a search for freedom here.

The Sydney-based musician has a long history of coloring outside the lines, not just in his solo recordings—including four albums for the Leaf label between 2018 and 2024—but also in the trio Pivot (later PVT); Szun Waves (alongside saxophonist Jack Wyllie and Border Community’s Luke Abbott); Triosk, which recorded an album with Jan Jelinek in 2003; and even post-punk titans Liars, whom he joined in late 2018.

Of his first album for Balmat, Pike says, “My loose concept was: What does music sound like when the expectations of late capitalism are removed from it? How might a jazz musician from an idealised culture of the future, or even another world, utilise musical language when the conventions of style and marketing are no longer a factor in music making?”

That inquiry, he says, connects to his “guiding principle: that the purpose of music is to access something bigger than the individual, and reveal a sense of possibility and freedom in the world to the listener. To create an understanding that the future can be something other than what we imagined or expect, even unconsciously.”

Heady ideas, but plug into his stream-of-metaconsciousness flow and you may start to intuit what motivates him. There is a deeply lyrical expression in these pieces—in the ruminative piano of opener “Guardians of Memory,” for example—but also a sense of exploded perspective, of ideas approached from more angles than any one mind could dream up. Of a collectivized consciousness, of mycelial networks branching across tone and rhythm and timbre, of ideas articulated in distributed fashion, nodal points dancing across drum heads.

Pike’s imaginary quintet is hardly without precedent; it’s a continuation of concepts floated across Jan Jelinek’s Loop-Finding-Jazz-Records, Burnt Friedman’s many guises, and much of the recombinant improv of the International Anthem roster, not to mention the far corners of ECM’s catalog in the late 1970s and 1980s, which Pike says have been integral to his development since he was a teenager. Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is a point in a continuum, a voice in a conversation, a question with no obvious answer: How can the search for otherness in music manifest something true about ourselves?

Individually, each one is known as a first-call player capable of handling any type of musical situation, and their personal credits are simply too long to list. They've collaborated on a wide range of projects and session work, including recent live, recording, and touring work with jazz-funk globetrotters Incognito and the American guitarist Robben Ford. Every now and again, their packed schedules permit them to take time out to make their own music, drawing on their shared love of the Latin jazz tradition, and whenever this happens, they're collectively known as TRYPL. Recently, they've found themselves with some rarely shared downtime and the opportunity to commandeer the capacious Big Jelly Studios.

The next step was to assemble the tunes and contact their favorite singers and players, including pianists Alex Wilson and Ross Stanley, guitarist Giorgio Serci, bassists Javier Fioramonti and Davide Mantovani, and Roberto Pla, Edwin Sanz and Davide Giovannini on percussion, with newcomer Sophie Stevenson on voice and vibraphone. Family and friends dropped round to provide an informal in-studio audience. Drawing inspiration from their shared love of the classic salsa sound pioneered by Fania Records in 1970s New York, given a twist by their own individual musical personalities, they've created Phantasticus - an album of joyously uplifting music that distils all the conviviality and good humor with which it was created into a heady yet feel-good brew. It's the perfect antidote to our nervous, fragmented times.

NEW IDEA SOCIETY signs to Relapse and offers their new album, Fire on the Hill. The band has taken on differing shapes and forms over the years, but at its heart is the duo of Mike Law (Wild Arrows) and Stephen Brodsky (Cave In, Mutoid Man), a pair enraptured and united by the alchemical power of songwriting. With a connection that can be traced back to their high school years, between them exists an intuitive understanding that informs exactly what NEW IDEA SOCIETY is at any given point. Although the pair have come a long way since their earliest explorations in audio in the late 90s, the roots of their alliance were forged in those makeshift basement studios. For Fire On The Hill, Law and Brodsky took a more collaborative approach to songwriting than on previous releases. With Brodsky describing their process as “microscopic” and Law marveling at the particulars of the minutiae they pored over, the attention to detail and their meticulous approach to making adjustments in service of the work shines through in the cohesiveness of this collection of songs. With demos passed back and forth over months - Brodsky sending them in the early morning, and Law taking the evening shift - the songs evolved naturally; refining a chord progression, adapting a lyrical perspective, or in the case of the track Lantern, rewriting the words entirely. Thematically the album is about love, in its many forms. With each track detailing some element of navigating emotional relationships - the beauty, the pain, the loss and the hope - the duo have captured the immediacy and urgency of such feelings, tempered by a sliver of yearning that stops short of tipping into nostalgia. Now with years of experience to their names, alongside a developed vocabulary and extended sonic palette to draw from, they have created something specifically and idiosyncratically NEW IDEA SOCIETY. Fire On The Hill is them in full flight, at the height of their powers. Short: NEW IDEA SOCIETY signs to Relapse and offers their new album, Fire on the Hill. The band has taken on differing shapes and forms over the years, but at its heart is the duo of Mike Law (Wild Arrows) and Stephen Brodsky (Cave In, Mutoid Man), a pair enraptured and united by the alchemical power of songwriting. FFO: CAVE IN, MUTOID MAN, EMMA RUTH RUNDLE, HARVESTMAN, BIG BRAVE, CRIPPLED BLACK PHOENIX, JESU

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

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

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

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

Evergreen In Your Mind, the new and third album from Norwegian singer-songwriter Juni Habel, exists in two worlds at the same time. Songs were recorded in quiet corners of her home, on the piano in the school where she works, and it uses the physical world around her to provide percussion. It also takes place, as she herself attests, within a dream; an imagined place in which her desire for oneness with each other and the world around us is finally realised.

Evergreen In Your Mind was recorded with co-producer Stian Skaaden, it’s Habel’s first album in three-years, following the breakthrough success of 2023’s Carvings LP. Formed of eleven new recordings, the songs here remain delicate, Habel’s voice playing an elegant lead role – but there are fluctuations too.

These small shifts in Habel’s sound result in a notable stride forward. More focus went into the groove of these songs. Playfulness was embraced and, perhaps most importantly, patience played a fundamental role in shaping the album with time and care given to every element of these songs. “We always aim to capture effortlessness - but the way of getting there is anything but effortless,” Habel reveals.

This extra time that was given to the project gave Juni the space to nurture her creativity. She would read and listen to music, hike into the hills, place herself within nature and seek out stillness. Not as a deviation from her work but as a fundamental part of the process. It’s a search for connection, and it’s a recurring theme across Evergreen In Your Mind; the polarity between stillness and passion, also our resistance to these desires, and the things we want to live and experience.

The album’s title-track and fist single feels indicative of this narrative. A gorgeous, delicate folk song, it finds Habel out in the woods, hiding from real life, caught in the space between the natural world and the pull of modernity. “It’s nostalgic. It’s about looking back and realizing things will be different,” Habel says. “Its about visualizing something beautiful in your head that you keep clinging onto.”

The album cover for Evergreen In Your Mind also adds shimmer. A striking photograph of Juni among the mountains, it was taken on a day trip to Rondane, a five-hour drive each way from her home. Habel explains. “It was awe-inspiring to drive all the way up into the high mountains, with its wide plains and intense colours. For an album with music that at times likes to hide itself, I think it fitted nicely with such an epic, grand, and powerful landscape.”

"Fans of Nick Drake, Karen Dalton and Neil Young will find much to enjoy in this musical equivalent of an evening spent alone by the fireside.” The Times

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

Undun is the story of a man, Redford Stevens, dying in reverse, rewinding from the moment he became a statistic and hitting the points in his life where he's at his most self-aware. That he's a criminal who got caught up in the familiar street-hustle trappings that the modern media's documented countless times is a pivotal detail-- it's hit at an angle that seems to emphasize the futile inevitability of it all. His life could be any number of misdirected narratives that ends with a toe tag, and what details listeners learn about him are hazy, buried under archetypal turns of fate and decisive struggles. That this protagonist is a fictionalized composite of a handful of real people, filtered through a matter-of-fact narrative that splits character ambivalence with journalistic impartiality, only makes his lack of direction and the failure of any real closure stand out even more. "Lotta niggas go to prison," Dice Raw states on "Tip the Scale", "how many come out Malcolm X?"

So the Roots' latest album isn't a sprawling, rise-and-fall crime story, not a condemnation or a veneration of a man living outside the law, not a bullet-riddled grand guignol heavy on explicit details of soldiers getting cut down. It's a character study of a man whose existential crisis ends only with his death-- a death gone largely unspecified, the glamor and tragedy washed over with a doomed resignation. That's a hard thing to pull off, even for a band as given to deep-thinking concepts as the Roots are. And when your main lyrical catalyst is Black Thought-- a man more given to allusions than direct statements-- it's likely that it'll take a while for the full scope of Undun to really sink in.

If and when it does, it might strike listeners as a bit skeletal: omit the mood-setting instrumental bookends, including a brief, four-part orchestral suite that builds off Sufjan Stevens' "Redford (For Yia-Yia and Pappou)", and you've got maybe a half hour's worth of material. By ?uestlove's accounts, writing Redford's story introduced the headaches and challenges that come with scriptwriting into their songwriting, and what's left on Undun is the end result of frequent revisions and rewrites that attempt to reconcile character, theme, and continuity. If it comes at the expense of nuance, it's not always obvious: There's an easy-to-trace narrative line from Redford's acceptance of his fate ("Sleep") to his acknowledgement of how close it's approaching ("Make My"), back through declarations of aggravated toughness ("One Time"), and celebratory fatalism ("Kool On"), along ups and downs that juxtapose motivation ("Stomp") and helplessness ("Lighthouse"). When the vocal portion of the album ends with two of the bleakest sets of verses in the Roots discography, peaking with the estrangement of "I Remember" and the desperation of "Tip the Scale", Undun reveals itself as a story where a man's actual death isn't quite as tragic as the circumstances that pushed him to it.

It's hard to fathom Martin Bramah's trajectory from his beginnings as a guitarist/writer behind two crazily influential postpunk albums - The Fall's Live At The Witch Trials and Blue Orchids' The Greatest Hit (Money Mountain) (vocalist on the latter too, of course) - then nearly three decades of sporadic-at-best activity, offering releases just frequently enough to remind fans of his peculiar brilliance . . . before another stay in the void. Chalk it up to what you want - Mark E. Smith's utter usurpation of The Fall, his split from partner Una Baines after Blue Orchids' debut, the vague collapse of rash experimentation in `underground' music as early `80s nu-pop and American college rock diluted any real spirit, a few failed attempts at working with with Mark again . . . and maybe just life getting in the way. A sense of lost opportunities isn't tough to justify. Inasmuch as Martin was originally the singer for The Fall - Mark began as guitarist but couldn't play! - and given that the group's mythology was born in an era before that gang of Mancunian misfits had even thought of playing, it's high irony that 49 years after The Fall began, Martin has both become wildly prolific and the leader of a band with more rights of inheritance to The Fall's credibility than any other living person could justify . . .yet the band isn't remarkable for that as it is for the range and wealth extent of their collective powers and talent: two great and original guitarists, three of the UK's most daringly-skilled drummers, a genuine bass legend, and a brilliant spare Blue Orchid guitarist. Four albums in, the HOUSE Of ALL is getting ambitious, with each album a subtle improvement on the last, forging a path away from their pasts without denying a thing. Inklings differs from the first three for not having being largely improvised at first, with sounds, rhythm, groove and melody later forged into songs. They rehearsed! They had fun doing it! They're going on an extended tour! There were even extra tracks! We'll leave it to fans and critics to sit down and analyse the specifics of it all, but Steve, Si, Pete, Phil, Karl and Martin have made a bold and powerful album unlike any other you'll hear in 2026 . . . stately, majestic, bold and worthy of a group of real survivors. In perverse form, the album will be officially announced and preceded by a song not on the album!

Dr. John Chowning (b. 1934) is a pioneering computer musician, composer and professor who, in 1967, discovered the FM synthesis algorithm. This breakthrough in electronic music allowed for simple, yet rich timbres described as sounding "real." With this discovery, Chowning composed singular, dramatic electronic music and changed the timbre of music forever.

Chowning utilized the potential of computers to synthesize sounds according to programmed instructions. The composer's use of his own FM algorithms, digital synthesis with computers and the new compositional concepts offered by a programmable musical structure combine to create some of the most original and unique electronic music ever created.

The compositions on this LP were realized between 1966 and 1981 and the music on this LP, with the exception of Stria, was originally released on CD in Germany (Wergo, 1988). The version of Stria included here contains a section not included on the Wergo CD. Thus, this version of Stria is complete. This is the first time these purely digital recordings have been released on an analog medium. The original dynamics of these groundbreaking compositions have been preserved on this LP. As a result, listeners are advised to increase volume with caution.

In 1975, John Chowning founded the CCRMA - Center For Computer Research In Music and Acoustics at Stanford University. Through Stanford, Chowning licensed his groundbreaking algorithms to Yamaha resulting in numerous new instruments including the iconic DX series of keyboards. In 1972, his composition Tureens which is included on this LP, was the first to create the illusion of continuous 360-degree space using four speakers.

Technical Notes:

All pieces on this LP are originally quadrophonic. The illusion of moving sound sources is thus projected from the surrounding environment given by four loud-speakers on the stereo-basis.

STRIA was composed using Chowning’s own program to compile the musical structure into note-lists and MUSIC 10 (by D. Poole/Tovar) to generate the sounds in software-synthesis. The original quadrophonic version utilized 12 bits, two different sampling rates being used to accommodate the enormous amount of data on the magnetic disc-packs available at that time. The original sound-data was processed by sampling-rate conversion and digital mixes to achieve the stereo version presented on this LP.

SABELITH and TURENAS were synthesized originally using Smiths’ SCORE and MUSIC 10. However, their format was changed from direct sound-samples to a command stream for a special purpose computer, the System Concepts Digital Synthesizer, designed by Peter Samson, one of the first large-scale digital synthesizers for real-time sound processing - one was designed for CCRMA in the late seventies. For this recording the sounds were recorded directly from the synthesizer computing the samples in real-time.

PHONÈ was realized with the System Concepts Digital Synthesizer using again Chowning’s own program to create the note list.

The master tape of this LP was made directly from the computer system at CCRMA which generated and stored the sound data in digital format. No analog recording was involved at any stage of the production and editing process.

KALEIDOBOLT’s fifth album is pungent to the ears – KARAKUCHI out in March Karakuchi is one record you can judge by its cover. The first time Kaleidobolt’s faces have adorned an LP, they have been fused into a torpedoing biomechanical vehicle. Echoing The Birthday Party’s Junkyard or Motörhead’s Orgasmatron (…on acid?!), the illustration epitomises perfectly Kaleidobolt’s agenda of “hyperkinetic rock”. Their feverish, psych-prog sound is full of motion. It jerks around at different speeds, threatening to spin out of control and crash into flames at any given moment. What’s more, it isn’t taken too seriously. This is heavy and intricate music, yes. But as bassist and co-singer Marco Menestrina puts it, the Kaleidobolt attitude is “an ugly smirk more than an angry face with a fist.” On their fifth album since forming in 2014, the Helsinki-based outfit lean into their strengths as a formidable power trio. With their previous two records, 2019’s Bitter and 2022’s This One Simple Trick, they had thrown everything at their disposal into the recording with no expense spared on overdubs, effects and kitchen sinks. Produced again by Niko Lehdontie (Oranssi Pazuzu), Karakuchi comes from tightly rehearsed, live-in-the-studio takes. Kaleidobolt realise that greater sparsity can be a strength, and they’ve allowed their instruments extra space to breathe. It makes for their earthiest, purest and perhaps most authentic record to date. Karakuchi’s exuberant style emerges from the individual members’ contrasting listening habits. These span classic prog, Japanese city pop, noise rock, post-hardcore and historical podcasts. One record they can all agree is a masterpiece, the centre of the Venn diagram where all three members meet, is King Crimson’s Red. As for their new album’s title, that’s as suitable as the cover art. “Karakuchi” is the slogan of the Japanese beer brand Asahi Super Dry. Translated literally, this means “pungent to the mouth”. As drinkers of that product, Kaleidobolt acknowledge its parallels to their songs. “It’s very intense, right at the front, like at the first bite,” explains Menestrina. “And then it leaves your mouth feeling refreshed. The flavour doesn’t linger in your mouth, basically. It has a quick, hard finish. With a bit of a stretch, we thought that that could also be said of our music.” Karakuchi is Kaleidobolt at their hardest, fastest, tightest and super-driest. Pungent to the ears. -JR Moores, November 2025