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Marc Richter aka Black To Comm released his debut record 20 years ago. In 2023 he is still busy releasing music under various disguises and is currently signed to the Thrill Jockey label. To celebrate this anniversary his own Cellule 75 label is re-releasing some classic out-of-print vinyl albums that originally came out on the defunct Type and De Stijl labels. The LP will feature a full-colour printed inner sleeve exclusive to this edition.

In 2009 the Type Recordings label run by John Twells had just released seminal records by Grouper, Jóhann Jóhannsson and Yellow Swans when they signed Richter and put out his breakthrough Alphabet 1968 album. The LP sold out within two weeks, receiving a glowing full-page review in The Wire Magazine by the late Mark Fisher (later reprinted in his book Ghosts Of My Life), was selected for Boomkat's Top 10 releases of the year (alongside debut albums by Leyland Kirby, Demdike Stare and Oneohtrix Point Never) and was greeted with universal praise in the underground blog network as well as established magazines such as The New Yorker and Pitchfork.

The music itself played with the notion of nostalgia without being nostalgic itself. It's the sound of half-remembered dreams, a surreal distorted vision of the past, an aural polaroid of long forgotten musics, a ghostly voice from a non-existent era.

From the original Type one-sheet:
"The mission statement for Alphabet 1968 was to write an album of "songs" for want of a better word. Short tracks which represented genre points, the milestones which stuck in Richter's mind when he thought back to his favorite records. What we arrive at is a breathtaking 10-track album which, over the course of 45 minutes, explores world music, techno, noise, avant-garde, ambient music and even exotica. Each track is linked with a loose thread of radio static or environmental sound, dragging you through the album, as if tuning in to a stray broadcast or a particularly adventurous mix. Richter has pieced the album together from hours of recordings made at his studio with home made gamelan, small instruments and loops gathered from a collection of ancient vinyl and 78 records. The scope of the album is admirable, but ignoring this, it is simply a shockingly arresting collection of experimental oddities, with references ranging from Moondog to Basic Channel by way of Bernard Herrmann. It's not hard to fall in love with Alphabet 1968, far harder would be to place exactly where the record should fit into your collection."

Mark Fisher in The Wire:
"But what if we were to take Richter's provocation seriously - what would a song without a singer be like? What would it be like, that is to say, if objects themselves could sing? It’s a question that connects fairy tales with cybernetics, and listening to Alphabet 1968, I’m reminded of a filmic space in which magic and mechanism meet: JF Sebastian’s apartment in Blade Runner. The tracks on the LP are crafted with the same minute attention to detail that the genetic designer and toymaker brought to his miniature automata, with their bizarre mixture of the clockwork and the computerised, the antique and the ultramodern, the playful and the sinister. Richter’s musical pieces have been built from similarly heterogeneous materials - record crackle, shortwave radio, glockenspiels, all manner of samples, mostly of acoustic instruments. ….. JF Sebastian's apartment was itself an update of older spaces in which science and sorcery co-existed: the workshops of ETA Hoffmann's inventor-magicians, or of Pinocchio's creator, Geppetto. I think, too, of Auguste Villiers de l'Isle-Adam's astonishing 1886 tale The Future Eve in which Edison, using the expertise he has recently acquired from inventing the phonograph, sets himself the task of constructing an artificial woman. But if there are songs here, they are sung by the gramophone and other recording and playback machines. Richter so successfully effaces himself as author that it is as if he has snuck into a room and recorded the objects as they played (to) themselves. Rather than simply automating his music, as in the case of Pierre Bastien and his mechanical machines, Richter makes us feel that he has merely recorded the unlife of objects. ….. Indeed, the impression of things winding down is persistent on Alphabet 1968. Entropy has not been excluded from Richter's enchanted soundworld. It feels as if the magic is always about to wear off, that the enchanted objects will slip back into the inanimate again at any moment."

A tale of two Indians recorded in Cologne, Stockholm & Berlin.
Anurag Choudhary & Pawas Gupta are Non Solo.
Friends from more than two decades, these gentlemen decided to bring together their knowledge of music at Anurag's apartment in Stockholm back in 2008. Anurag’s life journey took him to Stockholm,
Sweden and Pawas’ culminated in Berlin, Germany; both cities a cultural and a musical powerhouse in their own right. Anurag, a professionally trained Flautist (bamboo Flute or “Bansuri”) in the traditional Hindustani Classical Music and Pawas, someone who has been exploring the realms of electronic music since 1997 as a DJ and releasing records under different monikers since 2007 decided to bring in their forces on a gloomy Stockholm afternoon.

You may ask, why Non Solo? Well, for obvious reasons!
In traditional Indian classical music you are trained as a soloist, mastering a single instrument and each instrumentalist has a deep understanding of the common syntax and rules of engagement that produce some brilliant duets. Both Anurag and Pawas have been pursuing their solo music careers and mastering their craft. However, ‘Non solo’ brought these two (soloists) together to collaborate on something that has not been done before in this way so two soloists coming together and forming NON SOLO.
It all started over a “Fika” which translates to “ a concept, a state of mind, an attitude and an important part of Swedish culture. Many Swedes consider that it is almost essential to make time for fika every day.
It means making time for friends and colleagues to share a cup of coffee (or tea) and a little something to eat” in Anurag’s favourite Cafe, not to forget his exquisite palette for Coffee. After a short brainstorming on how to create something new and fresh without it being too cliched and with the help of impeccably roasted coffee beans that were freshly brewed, the men decided to jam it out to see where this goes.

The first attempt resulted in the second track on the record “Svar” which means “note or tone” which was a one take track. Motivated and excited, they both decided to continue working on this project.
A few months later Anurag visited Pawas' previous Studio in Cologne to record, where Sarang, Tandav and Bhoop were born. Even though the creation had happened, they felt it wasn't the right time to put
it out there just yet. However, time flew by and after almost 14 years of waiting, the men came back to what they had created and decided it was now the time to release it.
The title track “Sarang” is inspired by raga Brindavani Sarang, where Anurag infuses the romantic and mystical flavour of this raga with his flute and Pawas brings his deep repertoire of electronic grooves and
atmospheric sounds to create an intelligent track that touches the listeners.
Svara is inspired by raga Hansadhwani (translated ‘svan song’ or ‘sound of swan’) is an endearing melange of Indian classical and house music.
Tandav is a high energy track based on a variation of Sarang raga. With Pawas’ in-depth knowledge of both Indian classical percussion and electronic music….. This track combines multiple rhythmic layers
manifesting in one exhilarating track that is filled with polyrhythmic cadence and interludes.
Bhoop is melancholy and nostalgia infused into one melodious offering inspired by raga Boopali laid over a bed of organic drums and bass.

The Feel:
Svara is falling in love, the feeling you get when you are walking after that first wonderful date, smile on your face and so much anticipation and joy in the heart for all that excitement that is about to come.
Sarang is being in love, when you start to experience all those emotions you didn’t know even existed inside your heart. It is a complete journey.
Bhoop has a tinge of melancholy, longing and missing each other , while Taandav is coming back together after a long time away from each other. Re-discovering each other and re-experiencing all those
emotions at an even deeper level and celebrating the togetherness, be it in friendship or relationship.
Non solo is first in its kind to bring the melodious/musical depth inspired by the raga traditions to the exhilarating rhythmic world of deep house and electronica.
Available now in your favourite digital store and on limited edition Vinyl with an exquisite typographic artwork by Shantanu Suman in collaboration with Masala Movement's Manoj Kurian!

Vladislav Delay presents the third EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

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Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.
Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

After the pandemic hit, and the people of the world grew wary and
suspicious of one another, Iguana Death Cult, one of Europe's most
exciting rock exports, became more than just a band to its members--it became therapy - "I think for the first ten times we went to jam," says guitarist/vocalist Tobias Opschoor, speaking about the making of the new album Echo Palace, "we just drank wine and talked about it for hours--and then were like, 'OK, I have to go because I have to work tomorrow.

Taking place at frontman Jeroen Reek's apartment in Rotterdam, these
gatherings slowly shifted from talking about this surreal chapter of their lives--the days of quiet streets and cramped buildings--to making music about it.
Armed with the talents of Justin Boer on bass and Arjen van Opstal on drums, and tapping the keys work Jimmy de Kok for the first time on album, the band took their trademark melodic garage-rock style and expanded it to make it vibier and looser, with each member contributing ideas to develop the sound palette in full. When it came time to record the album, the band headed to PAF Studio in
Rotterdam, and subsequently it was mixed by Joo- Joo Ashworth (Sasami, Dummy) at Studio 22 in Los Angeles and mastered by Dave Cooley (Tame Impala, Yves Tumor).

The album is a big swing, stretching Iguana Death Cult beyond its garage rock origins and taking them to a new realm. The end result of Echo Palace is an appropriately worldly album from a group breaking past the confines of its home country.

"Dutch band Iguana Death Cult's rip- roaring melodies are built to jettison far beyond their homebase of Rotterdam." - FADER

"Frenetic, intense sonic assaults, they turn psych punk into astonishingly concise three-dimensional documents." - CLASH

The 2022 American drama miniseries George And Tammy was created by Abe Sylvia and directed by John Hillcoat. It stars Jessica Chastain and Michael Shannon as country music legends Tammy Wynette and George Jones, chronicling their tumultuous relationship and intertwined careers.

The 26-track soundtrack features iterations performed by Chastain and Shannon of songs made famous by Tammy Wynette and George Jones, including Wynette's “Stand By Your Man” and “D-I-V-O-R-C-E”, as well as Jones' “He Stopped Loving Her Today” and “The Race Is On”. Chastain and Shannon recorded their own vocals for the show and performed them live on set. The songs were produced by T Bone Burnett, who won several Grammy Awards and rose to fame as guitarist of Bob Dylan's band during the Seventies.

George And Tammy is available as a limited edition of 500 individually numbered copies on gold coloured vinyl, housed in a gatefold sleeve.

Dutch Eurodance group 2 Brothers On The 4th Floor was founded in 1990, when the two brothers Bobby and Martin Boer started experimenting with music in a small bedroom in their parental apartment on the 4th floor.

In 1995 and 1996, 2 Brothers on the 4th Floor further widened their success with the singles “Fly (Through the Starry Night)”, “Come Take My Hand” and “Fairytales”, changing their style to happy hardcore. These singles topped the charts in various European countries. At the end of 1996, the band released the single “There’s a Key” and their second studio album 2.

2 is available on vinyl for the first time as a limited edition of 1000 individually numbered copies on crystal clear vinyl. It includes remixes by Ferry Corsten and Charly Lownoise & Mental Theo.

In 1980, Genesis P-Orridge and Peter 'Sleazy' Christopherson (then of Throbbing Gristle renown) travelled to New York City to meet up at the fortified apartment, known as The Bunker, of famed beat writer and cultural pioneer William S. Burroughs and his executor James Grauerholz to starting the daunting task to compile the experimental sounds works of Burroughs, which, up until that point, had never been heard. During those visits, Burroughs would play back his tape recorder experiments featuring his spoken word 'cut-ups', collaged field recordings from his travels and his flirtations with EVP recording techniques, pioneered by Latvian intellectual Konstantins Raudive. Throughout the next year, P-Orridge, Christopherson and Grauerholz would spent countless hours compiling various edits, each collection showcasing Burroughs sensitive ear and keen experimental prowess for audio anomaly within technical limitations. By the time 1981 came through, Burroughs had relocated to Lawrence, KS in which to escape the violence and mania of New York City life. It is in Lawrence that P-Orridge and Christopherson put the finishing touches on the record that would be known as 'Nothing Here Now but the Recordings'. The album would come out in the Spring of 1981 as the final release for the shuttering Industrial Records, brought about by the dissolution of Throbbing Gristle. The album remained out of print until 1998 when John Giorno and the Giorno Poetry Systems included the album on a multi-disc retrospective CD box set compiling the majority of Burroughs seminal recordings.

Inspired by the original Industrial Records release of William S. Burroughs’s Nothing Here Now but the Recordings, Belgian record label Sub Rosa worked with Burroughs to release another album: Break Through In Grey Room. Originally compiled in 1986 by producer Bill Rich, the album features Burroughs's experimental recordings from 1961 to 1976, featuring field recordings by Burroughs of the Master Musicians of Jajouka, experimental collaborations with mathematician Ian Sommerville and painter/cut-up originator Brion Gysin.
Break Through In Grey Room documents William S. Burroughs during his time in Europe and England, working with Ian Sommerville on recording with the 'cut-up' technique. Sommerville's technical background enabled him to contribute to the early development of sound-and-light shows in London, leading to work with gear provided by Paul McCartney in an apartment owned by Ringo Starr. Experimental in nature, the record is as much an exhibition of studio and composition technique as it is a document of underground culture at that time.



For the 2023 reissue, Dais Records has collaborated with the Estate of William S. Burroughs on reissuing the album on vinyl and compact disc, fully remastered by mastering engineer Josh Bonati.

Inspired by the original Industrial Records release of William S. Burroughs's Nothing Here Now but the Recordings Belgian record label Sub Rosa worked with Burroughs to release another album: Break Through In Grey Room. Originally compiled in 1986 by producer Bill Rich, the album features Burroughs's experimental recordings from 1961 to 1976, featuring field recordings by Burroughs of the Master Musicians of Jajouka, experimental collaborations with mathematician Ian Sommerville and painter/cut-up originator Brion Gysin. Break Through In Grey Room documents William S. Burroughs during his time in Europe and England, working with Ian Sommerville on recording with the 'cut -up' technique. Sommerville's technical background enabled him to contribute to the early development of sound - and - light shows in London, leading to work with gear provided by Paul McCartney in an apartment owned by Ringo Starr. Experimental in nature, the record is as much an exhibition of studio and composition technique as it is a document of underground culture at that time. For the 2023 reissue, Dais Records has collaborated with the Estate of William S. Burroughs on reissuing the album on vinyl and compact disc, fully remastered by mastering engineer Josh Bonati.

In 1980, Genesis P-Orridge and Peter 'Sleazy' Christopherson (then of Throbbing Gristle renown) travelled to New York City to meet up at the fortified apartment, known as The Bunker, of famed beat writer and cultural pioneer William S. Burroughs and his executor James Grauerholz to starting the daunting task to compile the experimental sounds works of Burroughs, which, up until that point, had never been heard. During those visits, Burroughs would play back his tape recorder experiments featuring his spoken word 'cut-ups', collaged field recordings from his travels and his flirtations with EVP recording techniques, pioneered by Latvian intellectual Konstantins Raudive. Throughout the next year, P-Orridge, Christopherson and Grauerholz would spent countless hours compiling various edits, each collection showcasing Burroughs sensitive ear and keen experimental prowess for audio anomaly within technical limitations. By the time 1981 came through, Burroughs had relocated to Lawrence, KS in which to escape the violence and mania of New York City life. It is in Lawrence that P-Orridge and Christopherson put the finishing touches on the record that would be known as 'Nothing Here Now but the Recordings'. The album would come out in the Spring of 1981 as the final release for the shuttering Industrial Records, brought about by the dissolution of Throbbing Gristle. The album remained out of print until 1998 when John Giorno and the Giorno Poetry Systems included the album on a multi-disc retrospective CD box set compiling the majority of Burroughs seminal recordings.

Of all the things that can and should and will be said of Sam Wilkes’ & Jacob Mann’s Perform the Compositions of Sam Wilkes & Jacob Mann, let’s begin at the beginning and acknowledge that it is an aptly named record indeed. An ideal collaborative effort (which is to say, greater than the sum of its parts), here we have two longtime friends, two luminaries of the New Weird Los Angeles — the experimental, genre-encompassing underground—who have, at last, devoted a full-length record to their signature musical admixture.

Since their meeting as USC music students (Wilkes studied bass, and Mann, jazz/piano), the two have, with a kind of ceaseless abandon, chased the music to the ends the earth — oftentimes quite literally; travel is a recurrent theme in Compositions’ track titles (Pre-board, Soft Landing, and Around the Horn), and the record’s second track, Jakarta, was sketched out in a hotel room in the city of the same name, where Wilkes and Mann were performing at a jazz festival in 2019. Having initially bonded over a mutual and abiding appreciation for the Soulquarians, the two have spent over a decade playing and traveling, together and separately, their styles coevolving all the while.

Across its thirteen tracks, Compositions captures the relaxed creative flow of two consummate musicians. Most of the record’s sessions (“four-to-five-day summits” in an apartment studio, occasioned by “blasts of inspiration”) began with casual improvisation, and, indeed, roughly half of the final material was composed in this manner: Wilkes and Mann squaring off, a Yamaha DX7 facing a Roland Juno 106, alternating leads, two co-pilots with no set course. And though the songs are polished to a shine, there are artifacts of the intimacy of these sessions. Yes It Is concludes with a snippet of just-intelligible studio chatter: “…A flat minor, then A major.” A figuring-it-out-as-we-go moment that briefly renders explicit the warmth, friendship, and creative freedom that is the album’s heart.

3 capital letters, 2 cities, 2 boys, 1 project. Bordeaux, Berlin. Guillaume Laidain, Andrew Claristidge. Songs for concrete / Electronic.

An apartment building, floors, songs. In the stairwell, a meeting: sound artist, radio interference manipulator and musician-producer-arranger. The bass escapes from the cellar and vibrates along the corridors. A door opens, oscillations swirl, clash, and blur the tracks. A voice rises. Concrete architecture. Bodies armed for expression. In the distance, the echo of a rave party …

Remixes by The Hacker, Arnaud Rebotini and Pablo Bozzi.

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Grey Vinyl

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

After almost two years of work, we're glad to invite you to a new journey through the fog of time and enjoy the upcoming reissue of the great Ambient/Folk record from 1984. A well-known to collectors but extremely rare record by Jon Iverson a multi-instrumentalist from Palo Alto and his college friend, mandolinist Tom Walters. They shared a love for singer/songwriter fare and gigged around campus playing covers of Neil Young, CSN, and Loggins/Messina in the late '70s.
"First Collection" was recorded during the Spring of 1984 in a small garage that had been converted to a one-room apartment in the seaside community of Los Osos, California.
With an instrumentation of 12-string guitar, piano, mandolin, analog synthesizers, and sampler, the duo has recorded nine bright, weightless, and diverse compositions where electronic experiments mix with ethnic rhythms, sweeping through inspired folk reminiscent of the work of William Ackerman, John Fahey, Master Wilburn Burchette, and Robbie Basho, to homemade pastoral space folk exuding sophisticated, pale, lunar sonic moods that somehow might remind of the work of Roedelius from the early 80s.
Equipment used for tracking included a rented 1/2" 8-track Otari MX5050 analog tape machine and assorted mics. With only a few thousand albums pressed, First Collection has become a collectable in some circles.
Now, almost forty years later, First Collection has been remixed and remastered from the original 1/2" tapes for this release.

Electronic music legend and head of Editions Mego, Peter Rehberg, teams up with zeitkratzer mastermind Reinhold Friedl. 3 side-long pieces melting electronic / contemporary avantgarde. Uncompromising.

When Peter "Pita" Rehberg and Reinhold Friedl first met each other, they did not like each other "at all," as Friedl emphasises with a hearty laugh. The two would however eventually bond over the years thanks to a mutual respect for each other's music. In the summer of 2021, they entered the studio together for the first time. Their joint album for Berlin's Karlrecords is a faithful document—no editing, no overdubs—of their improvisations during two recording sessions shortly before Rehberg's sudden and untimely passing on July 22nd of that year. The three pieces see Rehberg working with electronics and Friedl with his inside piano, proving that they had indeed managed to find a common ground—up to a point where it at times becomes hard to tell who plays what on this record.

Friedl ran into Rehberg in Zbigniew Karkowski's tiny Tokyo apartment in 1999 while organising the first edition of the Off-ICMC that was set to take place in the following year. "I came uninvited and slept a night at Zbigeniew's before Peter arrived and I had to move out," remembers Friedl, who ended up inviting the Mego founder to perform at the Off-ICMC even though he found it hard to relate to his music. "We had very different backgrounds: he came from industrial and I had roots in classical music and improv, a high-brow prick!" After having met several times at different concerts without ever really speaking to each other in the following years, a concert in Vienna in the late 2010s marked a turning point in their relationship (or lack thereof). Playing their sets back to back and loving every second of what the other was doing, the two finally clicked on musical level. "We met for dinner on each of the three following nights!," remembers Friedl.

The two would go on to become good friends, meeting regularly to discuss music and everything else while both were living in Vienna just a few minutes away from each other. Rehberg put out Friedl's collaboration with Eryck Abecassis, "Animal Électrique" on his Editions Mego label in 2020 and eventually they entered the studio twice for sessions that were completely improvised with no prior preparation. "Caciara," "Chiasso," and "Clamore"—named retrospectively after three Italian words for "noise"—capture the spontaneity of two artists who had always been outliers in their respective fields finding a common ground in sprawling dynamics and sonic intensity as well as enabling each other to expand their individual sound palettes. "Peter gave me cover," explains Friedl. "I had the feeling that I was able to do things I otherwise wouldn't play."

Alt-rap dissident Jam Baxter announces his newest solo venture, Fetch the Poison. Conceived during a state-wide alcohol ban in Mexico, the album is Baxter’s first to be composed in complete sobriety — though his hallucinatory style of storytelling and cast of monstrous characters make a welcome return. Lyrics on Fetch the Poison meld Baxter’s Latin American experience with visions of a grisly alternate dimension: sun, sea and glittering vistas are sullied by hollow-eyed addicts, shady bar tenders and duplicitous lovers. Amongst deft bars, the rapper includes a number of spoken word pieces that echo the prose in his now sold out book Off-Piste. The album also features Blah Records' Nah Eeto & Black Josh, as well as DJ Sammy B-Side and Jehst, alongside Brazil’s NOG, Black Alien and Xamã. Baxter reunites with frequent collaborator Chemo on production — now under the moniker Forest DLG — for much of the album, with appearances from Jack Danz, Dr Zygote, Wundrop (CMPMD) and Midlands' electronic stalwart Lenkemz. Despite its diverse credits, tracks are connected by icy, spaced-out electronics with beats twisted through tape distortion and anchored by chest- rattling bass. Baxter began writing the album in Mexico just before the pandemic began while holed up in the city of San Cristobal De Las Casas, Chiapas, as the world shut down. “All the streets were eerily empty and it was amazing. I had the city to myself,” he says. “Then suddenly there was a state- wide alcohol ban and I could no longer casually sip tequila as I went about my business. I didn’t really have a choice but to write” With no alcohol to fuel him, and San Cristobal largely silent, the rapper says he was surprised to find himself in a deeply creative — and prolific – state. “I took to it amazingly well, and I wrote this whole album in three months of clear-headed bliss in the same apartment. I would sit and write all day, and occasionally walk up a mountain when I got stuck ... or go and feed the stray dogs at the church on top of the hill. It was weirdly the most fun I’d had in years.” Fetch the Poison is Baxter’s seventh solo album.

What is the sound of feeling?
In physics, we conceive of sound as waves. Vibrations, undulations, physical manifestations: heard but not seen. Borne by the body but interpreted in the brain.
Within ourselves, we perceive emotion as waves, too. Rolling in, rolling out: tidal, even. In moments of violet intensity, the depth of our feeling crashes upon us like surf, rip currents on a corporeal beach.
Worlds apart, but waves in kind. For musician and composer Jo Johnson, the veil between is diaphanous indeed. What you hear is what you feel. Listen and uncover.
Jo Johnson has releases on Further Records, Going In (a sub-label of The Bunker), Verdant and Apartment

It is recognized today that these tutelary pieces for four pianos are among the most powerful in contemporary music,their impact is almost unparalleled. After the historical version recorded forty years ago, this one, featuring four of the greatest European performers, is now regaining its full power. High level recordings too.

There was some for John Cage, then came Christian Wolff, and finally Morton Feldman, from this school in New York. Only Julius Eastman remained outside the game, the last figure, the most solitary and enigmatic - undoubtedly also one of the most powerful, and it is this power that is revealed through these recordings. In the 1970s and 1980s, Eastman was one of the very few African-Americans to gain recognition in the New York avant-garde music scene. He was politically committed, a figure of queer culture and a solar and solitary poet whose melancholy influenced his genius as well as his tragic destiny : suffering from various addictions, declared missing, actually homeless. During Winter of 1981-82, he got deported from his apartment by the police, who destroyed most of what he owned - including scores and recordings. He was found dead in 1990, on the streets of Buffalo, after years of vagrancy.

The Performers Nicolas Horvath, pianist and electroacoustic composer Nicolas Horvath is known for his boundariesless musical explorations - he has collaborated with leading contemporary composers from around the world, including Alvin Lucier, Alvin Curran and Valentyn Silvestrov - the recordings of his complete works for piano by Phil Glass made a lasting impression. He has collaborated recently with Lustmord on the Deconstruction of November by Dennis Johnson (Sub Rosa SR502: The Fall).

Melaine Dalibert, a French composer and pianist, fascinated by natural phenomena which are both expected and unpredictable, Dalibert has developed his own algorithmic procedures of composition which contain the notion of stretched time evoking Morton Feldman, minimal and introspective, adopting a unique concept of fractal series.

Stephane Ginsburgh, a tireless surveyor of the repertoire but also explorer of new music, collaborated with composers such as Philippe Boesmans, Jean-Luc Fafchamps, Stefan Prins, Frederic Rzewski and Matthew Shlomowitz of whom he premiered works, as well as with choreographers such as Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker (Rosas) and recorded Feldman, Duchamp and Satie for Sub Rosa and the complete set of Prokofiev piano sonatas for Cypres. Wilhem Latchoumia, he embraces both new music and the classical repertoire with success and charisma. His two last recordings for La Dolce Volta (Prokofiev and de Falla) have been highly acclaimed by critics with a FFFF in Télérama. Winner of the Hewlett-Packard Foundation and the Montsalvatge International Piano Competition, he brilliantly won the First Prize in the 2006 Orléans International Piano Competition.

Brainwave research center is a new project from NYC-based house/techno producer, Chase Smith (W.T. Records, Apartment, is/Was), & documentary filmmaker, Christa Majoras (School of Visual Arts).

Conceived together over two years as musical thought experiments, brainwave research center’s debut album, figure 1, contains a genre-bending distillation of influences from experimental music (Steve Reich, Laurie Spiegel, Black Dice), 1990s ambient techno (The Orb, Pete Namlook/Fax Records), and Motorik/Kosmiche/Krautrock (Kraftwerk, Suicide, Manual Gottsching).

The songs embrace a raw, naive approach to sound design, instrumentation, and technical production to capture the feeling of experimentation of the works they are inspired by. Described by listeners as a mixture of Electronic, ambient, and kosmische/krautrock.

Recorded and produced in Greenpoint, Brooklyn in the back of Smith’s synthesizer/electronic repair shop, Specs Sales & Repair, Figure 1 is the first in a sequence of 4 works to be released.

Made primarily with TR-606, OB8, SH-101, MS-20, Fizmo, H3000, SDE-3000

Eva Louise Goodman’s Nighttime project locates itself on a musical tree planted on the British Isles, perched atop the branch of folk leaning into sixties rock. Her upstate New York environs don’t stray far from that image. With tempered percussion, floating mellotron, and singing that evokes Bleecker & MacDougal on a fervent Saturday afternoon, her new album Keeper Is The Heart reaches deep into the essence of musicians such as Vashti Bunyan, Sibylle Baier and Pentangle, breaking down the decades into a sound thoroughly and bizarrely modern.

Through her years performing with Mutual Benefit, Goodman fell in love with life on the road and the collaborative energy of a band. In this third Nighttime album, she channels these experiences into her own music. The creative journey from writing to recording to mixing drove her deeper into a sense of self while expanding her sound. In the process, she put aside lo-fi origins and challenged herself to achieve the same intimacy with a bigger production.

Like most paths of self-discovery, the journey started with displacement. In October 2019, Goodman set out to record the album on her own, while cat-sitting at a friend’s empty Brooklyn apartment. Rather than recording, she was drawn to the overgrown garden, where she spent her days listening to music and reading old journals. Charlie Megira, The Incredible String Band and Roy Montgomery invoked the spirit of the album, as she realized that a new, more collaborative approach would be necessary to bring the songs to life.

In March 2021, after a pandemic year immersed in sound experimentation and writing, she entered the upstate New York studio of recording engineer Rick Spataro (Florist). Together, Spataro and Goodman dove into creating the album, recording one song a day, letting the spark and excitement of spontaneity be their guide. “I've always been fascinated with ‘automatic’ arts,” Goodman says, “where things are created intuitively and without premeditation, from the subconscious.” In this light, they worked with abandon–pushing through the heaviness of songs written years earlier with the same energy as songs which were not yet fully developed. Taking chances, improvising, they sought to strip away pretense, and elude perfectionism at all cost.

Among their experiments, the duo manipulated tape speeds–slowing or speeding up different instrument tracks, imbuing passages with altered perspectives. Improvisation was the key in track five, ‘The Way,’ a song about “the magical act of carving out a path through life, amidst all possibility.” After a long day of recording, the song was feeling heavy and uninspired. As night fell, Spataro picked up the Stratocaster and, in one take, laid down a rolling, roiling guitar line that defined the track.

This spirit of surrender weaves through the album. “Break free from time, and sink in the pool of the mind,” begins ‘Garden of Delight’, an energetic highlight, propelled by 60’s-era organ and Jefferson Airplane-esque vocals. The song was accidentally deleted after the first day of recording. By luck or fate, the one surviving file captured the song’s loose and free-wheeling essence. Inspired, Goodman encouraged her circle of collaborators to work similarly: “I gave everyone trust and total freedom to contribute as they felt called to, encouraging an intuitive approach of simply improvising, playing through the song a few times and then sending over the results.” Synth, cello, violin, saxophone and flute all appear, but often in unconventional ways.

Keeper Is the Heart reflects Goodman’s process towards greater creative freedom. The first words she sings: “Lift the veil of all of this hate/To see the fear at its base.” Her last lines: “We’ll follow the fates across the great expanse of time/To the source of the light within our mind.” In between is a work of art awash in personal awakenings that revel in the freedom of intuition, the lifting of veils, and the beauty of transformation. As Goodman states, “What is it you find when you look inward to see beyond, past your fears, to your heart's true desires?”

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.

Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.

Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’

The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such?

Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.

A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.

It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Pittsburgh’s feeble little horse is a 4-piece band that writes intricately catchy, digitized noise pop songs. Formed by Sebastian Kinsler (guitar, production, vocals, bass) and Ryan Walchonski (guitar, vocals) in Ryan’s student apartment

Pittsburgh’s feeble little horse is a 4-piece band that writes intricately catchy, digitized noise pop songs. Formed by Sebastian Kinsler (guitar, production, vocals, bass) and Ryan Walchonski (guitar, vocals) in Ryan’s student apartment

tobi lou cements a connection to countless listeners through his creativity. The Nigeria-born, Chicago-raised, and Los Angeles-based rapper and producer builds music meant to last with unpredictable flare and inimitable spirit. As the story goes, tobi lou flourished as a football player and baseball player until undergoing a dream-ending injury and jumping from a semi-pro career to the mic. A series of buzzing EPs—tobi lou and the Moon, tobi lou and The Loop, and tobi lou and The Juice—paved the way for his 2019 mixtape, Live on Ice. The latter included “I Was Sad Last Night I’m OK Now,” which racked up 42.9 million Spotify streams. Earning widespread acclaim, Pitchfork hailed 2020’s “Student Loans” as “a refreshing dose of joy.” Meanwhile, Lyrical Lemonade christened him, “Chicago’s Rising Superhero.” Along the way, he headlined shows coast-to-coast and shut down festival stages at Lollapalooza and beyond. He also collaborated with everyone from Smino to Dreezy. Throughout 2021, he assembled Non-Perishable out of his East Los Angeles apartment. He notably produced on every track, lending his touch to the entirety of the project. After amassing hundreds of millions of streams, packing shows, and receiving acclaim from GQ, W Magazine, and more, he architects an immersive experience on his second full-length project and the first installment of a 2022 trilogy, Non-Perishable.

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

Best known for being Anderson .Paak’s live band The Free Nationals have toured the world meeting countless artists who inspire them. While the amount of all the contemporary musicians who inspire them would take an anthology of box sets, they boiled it down to a handful to include on the album, all of whom lend their talents in spreading the funk. Free Nationals means The first people of America, Indigenous to the land before Columbus came. Staying Indigenous to the funk, The Free Nationals wanted to tribute their inspirations such as Stevie Wonder, B.B. King, Herbie Hancock, and Al Green by incorporating musicianship while pioneering musical euphoria for a new generation.

The album features friends they’ve met along their musical journey including the late Mac Miller, Syd, Anderson .Paak, Kali Uchis, T.I., JID, Westside Gunn, Conway, Chronixx, Daniel Caesar, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Kadhja Bonet, MIKNNA, Benny Sings, Callum Connor, T. Nava and Joyce Wrice. This pressing sees the album pressed on 180g Black Vinyl for the first time.

Dopeness Galore / Records We Release
"A newfound father's attempt to pass wisdom on to his children."

- Spring 2019 -

"As my girlfriend’s pregnancy was steadily treading along, I settled into my home studio in the attic of our new house. In our previous apartment I had a tiny room which could hardly fit my recording gear, let alone my drums which were still sitting at my parents’ house eating dust. Now that we’d moved into a bigger place, I had confiscated a part of the top floor to build my studio. This time I had just enough space to fit my drum set together with other percussion instruments, Fender Rhodes and synths. This sparked a whole new world of creative opportunities.

At the same time I also started to think about what kind of wisdom I would want to pass on to my children. I started writing down my thoughts. Little anecdotes, ponderings and things to think about as a human being.

These two events took place in parallel and once I actually started jotting down my first compositional ideas I saw the concept right there in front of me bright as day.

This LP has been written and recorded as inspiration to think about things and to keep re-thinking again and again to strengthen the knowledge of self.

Fruit Distro Collective is heavily inspired by Jazz composition, Hiphop drum sounds and the percussive elements of Afrobeat and Afro latin styles. "

Florence Cats is a poet, visual artist, sound composer, performer and acupuncturist. Born in Vilvoorde (Belgium) in 1985, she is currently living and working where Brussels merges with the Sonian forest.

Florence Cats’ working process involves things about to appear or disappear, and echo one another : air, light, wind, tone, print, voice, water, color, dust, junk, rumor… She creates eclectic pieces related to travel, porosity, natural energies and celestial events. Each proposal is in tune to a context, a space, an environment.

Ys is a generous debut. Raw, courageous.

Sunken Cathedral is Florence interpreting Claude Debussy’s La Cathédrale Engloutie (trans. the Sunken Cathedral). The track reminds me of one of those fabled Charles Ives home recordings. Where he records himself on Speak-O-Phone - an old brand of recordable aluminium phonograph discs - while practicing and composing his music. But unlike Charles Ives treating these home recordings as personal sketches, Florence Cats shares her captured moments as compositions for the public.

Similar to the Speak-O-Phone recordings, we now meet the piano as a physical expression - not as an archetype. We are together with Florence in a room. The pedal. The keys. The hiss of the room. Learn, repeat.

Trough Florence’s hands and feet, La Cathédrale Engloutie is brought out of its pupa stage to become a presence. Instead of being grounded in luxurious concert halls or on high end recordings, the piece is now natural. Sunken Cathedral is a template, an affirmation for amateurs.

The piece was originally created for the group exhibition "Here Comes the Wave” at Project(ion) room, Brussels, February 2020.

In Fall Call, we find ourselves at QO2, a sound art initiative in Brussels. This piece was captured during a residency Florence took over the summer of 2022. We listen to the moment when a summer storm just washed the city.

Fall Call is a testament to Florence’s magical - humanistic way of playing her custom-made theremin. By pushing the controls of the instruments so high, her whole body starts to control the instrument - instead of just her hands. So when she walks around in the room, the instrument answers in full color.

And then, a phone-call. Giving it a bit of a Poulenc vibe.

For the last piece, Drop Out, we find ourselves in Florence’s apartment. When Florence opens the windows, the ambience of the surrounding Sonian Forest seeps in. This is an adorable moment. It predicts new beginnings. The smell of wet dirt and dripping leaves in the air. The poetry of rain.

Hiding in Place, the new EP from Philadelphia’s Queen of Jeans, opens with the springy pluck of a single note on electric guitar, like a ping from a satellite waiting for a response in a long, quiet expanse. Then, Miri Devora’s voice atop guitar and drums: “Hiding in place, conjure your face/Don’t wanna lose my mind.”

This is the title track’s invitation to a four-song study of loneliness, alienation, and the unraveling that comes with those states, but it’s also bookended with moments of levity: joy and romance burst through on second track “Why Hide,” a response of sorts to the title track’s cloistered anxiety. Devora wrote the songs at the start of the pandemic in March 2020 when she had just been laid off from her job of almost 10 years. Her partner, guitarist Mattie Glass, worked 11 hour shifts at a grocery store, so Devora was alone in their apartment for months on end. When they were written, these weren’t intended to be pandemic-specific.

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

ATALAYA is new work by bassist Dezron Douglas, and it is alive. Alive in all the ways that jazz is at its best - as a pure and personal expression of Black Music filtered through time-honored traditions by a group of musicians who practice sonic coherence through musical unity. Followers of contemporary jazz might recognize Dezron for his bass work behind Pharaoh Sanders, Louis Hayes, or Ravi Coltrane. Steady International Anthem listeners might remember him from the New York side of Makaya McCraven"s Universal Beings. More recently we presented Force Majeure, his sublime duo record with harpist Brandee Younger which compiled the best of livestream performances from their Harlem apartment during the original covid lockdown. That album reflected the speed and feeling of the moment while somehow simultaneously distracting from the harsh reality of it. It also captured a very vulnerable, intimate, and real impression of Dezron on double bass, sharing his power and truth without abandon.

‘Happiness, Guaranteed’ is about the cyclical nature of our modern dissatisfaction. It’s a brief dive into the frustrations our desires bring in our attempts to reach a level of contentment. Each song explores the pursuit of happiness within our relationships, our work, and our wealth all whilst finding ways to be content with what you have whilst balancing a desire to grow. Having come off the back of touring our first record Shadowboxer we were keen to get back in the room together and start writing new material. Traditionally we had taken the approach of writing sketches alone and sharing them with each other in the studio. We wanted to shake this process up and decided to rent a house, set up our instruments, and play freely together with no expectations, we did this over a couple of months. A lot of the music we made during those sessions felt like new territory for us and a move in the right direction. One of the first songs we landed on was MORE, which is based around a character disillusioned by their desire for consuming possessions. It’s a tongue-in-cheek exploration into how we’re sold happiness with what we can buy, something which we all really resonated with at the time -filling our apartments with furniture, buying gear, and settling back down into a post-tour life. Don’t Wait was another important piece of the puzzle. It’s a song that reckons with a break up and greeting the great unknown. It was a more joyous moment in the record, touching on the freedoms of growing up and having a better understanding of who you are and what you want in a relationship. The Trouble with Us was a similar exploration but focused more on the pain and frustration of a relationship ending. Throughout the record there’s this desire to arrive, to reach what we’ve been promised in life, a sense of completion and happiness.

Folk Implosion's fan favorite album is available on cassette for the first time! They say there's always something special about the first time and this record is that first time for the Folk Implosion. The band left the acoustic guitars and fragmentary sketch modus operandi of their earlier cassette behind to focus on an eccentric version of home studio craft, held together by a few cheap microphones (including a Radio Shack PZM) and a Tascam cassette 4-track recorder sequestered under the eaves of a 3rd floor, Cambridge Massachusetts double-decker house apartment. Wood floors and Christmas lights were as much a part of the vibe as an Ampeg VT 40 guitar amp and a small chord organ. The duo would wait until the downstairs neighbor went to work in the morning and then would play until the tunes snapped like a high-pitched snare drum. The setup would close down just before the neighbor came home from work, keeping the peace long enough to see the project through to completion. Once tracked, the band snuck into Fort Apache studios with Tim O'Heir (producer of Sebadoh's 'Bakesale' LP) early one morning, freeloading off the Sebadoh sessions that were set to get going that afternoon. Tim mixed the songs through a very hi-fi Neve board in a matter of hours with the Tascam sitting right on the giant board like a tugboat keeping time with an oil tanker. The duo hoped that the spirits of ancestors like The Troggs, Devo, Al Green, and The Bee Gees would be pleased with the scent of tribute that arose from the ashes of the pyre. Today, they are pleased to see the Slaps and the Sputniks on view again nearly 30 years later. Tracklisting: 1. Blossom 2. Sputnik's Down 3. Slap Me 4. Chicken Squawk 5. Spiderweb-Butterfly 6. Had To Find Out 7. Better Than Allrite 8. Why Do They Hide 9. Winter's Day 10. Boyfriend, Girlfriend 11. Shake A Little Heaven 12. Waltzin' With Your Ego 13. Take A Look Inside 14. Start Again

Twisted and irreverent, The Rabbits combined ear-splitting guitar shrapnel with one of punk’s greatest-ever snot-nosed vocalists. With hints of PIL or Chrome, but beamed in from a parallel dimension and filtered through the warped lens of visionary loner Syoichi Miyazawa. First-ever vinyl release, fully remastered from the band’s original early ’80s cassette releases, and housed in a sturdy tip-on sleeve. Includes a double-sided, printed insert. Edition of 500

Singer-songwriter Syoichi Miyazawa’s tale is a confounding one.

He grew up in a small town in Yamagata Prefecture (in northern Japan), loved Dylan and The Beatles, and had very little exposure to, or interest in, underground music. And yet, shortly after 24-year-old Miyazawa arrived in Tokyo in 1978, he began performing solo shows at tiny clubs in the city, singing and playing guitar. His performances quicky devolved from brisk acoustic jaunts to lengthy, heavy dirges sung in a snot-nosed wail over a blown-out electric guitar detuned to produce a kind of sonic sludge.

At one of his earliest gigs, a mutual friend introduced him to Endo Michiro, who would soon become the legendary front man of Japanese punk icons The Stalin. It turned out Miyazawa and Endo had attended Yamagata University at the same time just a few years earlier, but hadn’t known each other at school. In Tokyo, they became fast friends, moved into the same apartment building, and for years were inseparable. Endo played guitar and drums on Miyazawa’s debut release, the “Christ Was Born in a Stable” flexi disc. But while Endo was social and outgoing, Miyazawa preferred to be alone, avoiding concerts unless he was performing.

Despite these antisocial tendencies, Miyazawa came to despise playing solo. In 1982, an eccentric high school student named Chika introduced herself at one of Miyazawa’s gigs, and Miyazawa asked if she’d play bass. She agreed and drafted two of her friends to play second guitar and drums. The Rabbits were born.

Miyazawa wrote the tunes, and had a clear vision for the group, but struggled to get the sound he wanted from the other members. His second guitarist was more of a fusion player, and Miyazawa took great pains to get him to tone down the shredding. The group quickly went through multiple line-up changes. Frustrated with the sound of their first proper recording (self-released as the “X1(x)” cassette), Miyazawa spent a full year mixing their second cassette, “Winter Songs,” on his own.

The hard work paid off — the sound of “Winter Songs” is striking, and unlike anything the band’s peers produced. There’s liberal use of delay on the vocals, giving the music a psychedelic feel, but the guitars are caustic, cutting through the mix like metal shrapnel. The rhythm section seems on the verge of teetering out of control throughout, an overdriven and pummeling current below abrasive slabs of guitar and vocals. Even at their most aggressive, though, The Rabbits had strong pop sensibilities, complete with cooing backing vocals and the occasional harmonica solo. Miyazawa delivers his borderline nonsensical lyrics with equal amounts of menace and gaiety, consistently riding that fine line as only a natural oddball can. At times, the band sounds like a distant cousin of PiL, Chrome or The Homosexuals, but beamed in from a parallel dimension and filtered through Miyazawa’s warped lens.

Although The Rabbits briskly sold all 500 copies of the "Winter Songs" tape, live audiences at the time seemed dumbfounded by the group, and would stare at them in silence. After two years together, The Rabbits called it quits in 1984.

When asked if any of the many legendary groups (Les Rallizes Desnudes, G.I.S.M., etc.) he shared stages with left an impression, Miyazawa recently revealed that he always left the venue as soon as he finished performing, so he never caught any of the other bands…

All of which is to say —

The Rabbits are one of the great punk bands of the early ’80s, but their leader had no interest in the punk scene and always thought he was making “normal” music. They rubbed shoulders with a slew of notable groups of the era, and their singer was best friends with arguably the most famous Japanese punk of all time, but Miyazawa shunned fraternization and purposefully distanced himself from his peers.

Could this be why so few underground music fans are familiar with the group, even in Japan? Why they seem to have been written out of the official history of Japanese punk? One can never know for sure, but Mesh-Key hopes to remedy this travesty by offering this compilation, the first-ever official LP by The Rabbits, to a new generation of punk and psychedelic music connoisseurs.
credits

The first new album in over a decade from world-renowned singer-songwriter, Nina Nastasia. Produced by Steve Albini. Riderless Horse is my first solo record, and it’s the first record my former partner, Kennan Gudjonsson, didn’t produce. I haven’t made an album since 2010. I decided to stop pursuing music several years after my sixth record, Outlaster, because of unhappiness, overwhelming chaos, mental illness, and my tragically dysfunctional relationship with Kennan. Creating music had always been a positive outlet during difficult times, but eventually it became a source of absolute misery. Riderless Horse documents the grief, but it also marks moments of empowerment and a real happiness in discovering my own capability. Steve Albini produced this record with me, and Greg Norman assisted. It was exactly the right environment to work on this record. We all had meals together, cried, laughed, and told stories. It was perfect. It made me realize how much I love writing, playing and recording music. Terrible things happen. These were some terrible things. So, what to do – learn something valuable, connect with people, move the fuck out of that apartment, remember the humor, find the humour, tell the truth, and make a record. I made a record.

Red vinyl LP. Lars Finberg, confirmed genius guy and poet laureate of sunken 21st century Rock, acts as manager in perpetuity of THE INTELLIGENCE, primary vehicle for his prolific creative swirl and a project that has taken on new shapes across myriad trials and shifts. The project began in his Seattle bedroom – a lad and his Tascam cassette 8 track – with the classic Boredom & Terror and has now landed in his Los Angeles studio apartment – an urchin and his Tascam digital 12 track – with Lil’ Peril, a new album that finds Finberg 1000% back at the controls. Over the course of 11 albums (!), The Intelligence has established a backbone that boogies through revolutions, allowing each jam-crammed dispatch to feel and sound admirably unique. The angular sharp shocks heard in earlier years have steadily evolved into the ballooning grooves heard on more recent releases (including Finberg’s recent solo work). Lil’ Peril is a dreamy gamble that captures this current bubbling penchant in The Intelligence’s inaugural homemade mode. With inspirational templates as far-flung as LES PAUL, THE SPECIALS, LEE PERRY and MARY FORD, Lil’ Peril pulls off the absurd shift “from ‘No-Wave SANTANA’ to ‘SCREAMERS recorded by JON BRION’”. Playing shoulder parrot to studio engineers has no doubt informed Finberg’s approach to home recording, specifically in how much further he can go without wincing budget-minded eyes staring him down. This is immediately sensed on the opener “Maudlin Agency,” which begins with canned minimal bleep and closes with a full recreation of the “Brass Monkey” hook. These surprise-attack conclusions are a running current throughout the Lil’ Peril’s program and demonstrates that the main lesson Finberg has learned in The Intelligence is to never reel it in. Centerpiece banger “My Work Here Is Dumb” ranks among the finest Intelligence moments existent and an apex in Finberg’s songcraft, boasting a bonkers arrangement and a thematic gnaw that is both brutal and playful. The collection closes with the epic “Soundguys,” a suite cut-up that fuses CAN and STEELY DAN into one of the most dastardly tunes available for consumption in the plague age. As Finberg himself states, “They may say this is ‘lo-fi’, but I say it’s ‘no-CGI’”. “The band disintegrated, so it devolved back to the core idea: if I do every aspect, it’s indestructible.” 20 years on and Finberg has finally let everyone know what The Intelligence actually means! All those wily experiments and warm flubs have come back full circle and the shit’s pure goddamn gold. Proof positive that there is always some sort of cute trouble, farcical tragedy and Lil’ Peril at play with The Intelligence. - Mitch Cardwell, 2022. Tracklisting: 01 Maudlin Agency 02 70's 03 Keyed Beamers 04 Purification 05 My Work Here Is Dumb 06 Lil Peril 07 Frog Prints In Preset City 08 Portfolio Woes 09 Soundguys

Following on from last year’s acclaimed Sylva Sylvarum, the epic double LP from Ora Clementi (her collaborative project with James Rushford), crys cole returns to Black Truffle with Other Meetings. Originally commissioned and released on cassette by Boomkat Editions in 2021, Other Meetings is a major addition to the body of carefully hewn solo work cole has released over the last decade, offering up two side-long suites of her radically intimate approach to sound. After many years dominated by touring and travel, cole found herself in lockdown in her Berlin apartment, working in a limited space with minimal equipment. Digging through archives of recordings taken overseas and exploring the sonic potential hidden in the objects surrounding her (including a coffee pot and a vase of dying flowers), she crafted what in her liner notes she calls ‘an internal dérive, a journey that drifted through many places without a defining compass’. Totalling over 50 minutes, the two pieces unfold at an unhurried pace, each containing four individually titled subsections. Beginning with a sequence of the highly amplified small sounds characteristic of much of cole’s work, the opening moments of ‘The time between two durations of sleep’ are underpinned by a gentle rocking motion, weaving together contact mic crunch, metallic resonance, glimpses of bird song, and isolated drum machine hits, the sonic space expanding and contracting as focus moves between elements. Briefly side-lined by a tactile but unplaceable sizzling, this complex weave of voices then returns in a kind of dubbed-out ‘version’, the percussive accents echoing around the stereo space. In one of the record’s most beautiful and unexpected moments, these sounds are joined by a sparse melodic line performed on a broken 1980s digital synth, the vaguely New Age timbres being taken on a long, tonally ambiguous wander. Cole’s immersion in memories of travel comes to the fore in the final section of the first side, titled ‘Wat Paknam’ after a royal temple in Bangkok, where snatches of voices, ringing bells and distant waves of chanting blur together with synth tones into an increasingly abstracted wave of sound. The second side, ‘Slices of cake’, opens in a similarly hallucinatory outdoor space of echoing bird song and liquified traffic before abruptly zooming in on a microscopic world of subtly processed and highly amplified objects, explored with a starkness and quiet insistence that calls to mind the fringe not-quite-concrète of outsiders like Paul A.R. Timmermans or Knud Viktor, whose obsessive interrogation of dripping water might also serve as a point of reference for the following sub-section, the aptly titled ‘magischer Abfluss’ (magic drain).

While Other Meetings develops many aspects of cole’s previous work – the hyper-magnification of small gestures, the unsettling edits and fades partly inspired by hypnagogic states, the location recordings smeared into oneiric haze – it is almost as if these pieces are somehow songs, the remnants of an evaporated music of which nothing remains except isolated hits from a synthetic drum, a handful of notes, or simply a duration of emptied atmosphere. Radically reductive yet deeply musical, Other Meetings is a major work from an artist driven by an uncompromising and idiosyncratic vision.

Presented with an inner sleeve with photos and liner notes from the composer and remastered audio.

South-east Turkey born DJ, sound artist and producer Banu uses music as a political tool. For her, the strong message carried through sound is a vehicle to express emotions as well as a means of fighting against oppression. Using participation, social design, ecology, feminist and queer theory to create multimedia installations with sound as a main element, Banu‘s practice is closer to contemporary art and activist spaces than the club realm.

Banu‘s debut album TransSoundScapes is an exercise in female solidarity between her as a migrant woman and her sisters from the trans community, where an artist from one marginalised group is showing support towards her trans sisters, using her platform to help them amplify their voices and building a bridge towards a mutual understanding of femininity.

Conceptually, TransSoundScapes comes in continuation of Banu‘s previous research-based work, using music as a positive tool for change while working with various marginalised communities. The album originated from the very real experience of being confronted with verbal harassment in Berlin on a daily basis, particularly aimed at her transfeminine friends and companions. As a queer woman of Turkish and Kurdish origin, Banu did not only observe the verbal aggression directed at her friends, but also understood most of the insults shouted in languages such as Arabic. Seeing how she got signifi cantly more verbal violence directed at them when in company of trans people made a lasting impression on her, so she wanted to try and use her relative privilege to amplify transfeminine voices through her music.

Coming from a very conservative family, making music has been her lifelong dream. It was the moment she had the opportunity to work with the iconic Arp 2600 synthesiser (a younger sibling to Eliane Radigue‘s infamous 2500 machine) that all her disparate interests came into place to create an empowering soundscape with the aid of analogue drum machines. TransSoundScapes has a very full, porous sound, where every element that comes into play sounds soft yet clear. Across the 7 tracks, Banu conjures pounding subterraneous bassy techno („Surgery“), slithering tentacular EBM („First Time“) and pulsating cavernous soundscapes („Harem“), where oversized dancefl oor elements are woven with poetic spoken word passages, resulting in sensusous yet political anthems. Banu artfully merges loosely related genres such as techno, electro, dub and sound poems into a sound that is at once deeply personal and extremely compelling.

All of the tracks are collaborative efforts, Banu seeing the process as an exchange of care and shared experiences, while integrating research into her writing process. The lyrics in „Transition (part 1+2)‘‘ are an adaptation of Sara Ahmed’s “Living a Feminist Life”, while „Surgery“ was born out of series of interviews with trans people, channeling the metallic sounds of a surgery room to refer to society‘s perception of transness as a medical condition. Tracks like „First Time feat. Patricia“, „Harem feat. Prince Emrah“ or „We feat. Aérea Negrot“ document her encounters with various trans women, centering their life experiences while also developing a deep dialogue through the process of making music together.

The darkest and perhaps the most emblematic track is ‚‘Bianka (In Memory Of)‘‘, dedicated to the late Bianka Shigurova, a 22-year old Georgian actress found dead in her apartment. It was her Tbilisi photographer friend George Nebriedze who told her Bianka‘s tragic story, whose death is suspected to be an assasination due to transphobia. Banu chose one of Nebriedze‘s analogue photos of Bianka as the album‘s cover art.