Buscar:ben shift

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

A lavish four chapter chronicle that imagines an alternative evolution of mankind through sound, VIS (Latin for energy or force) is the result of a lengthy process of self-discovery, collaboration and research for Italian-German composer David August. The son of a classical pianist, August slipped from the academic music world into an early career as a dance music producer and DJ before he felt his artistic outlook shifting considerably. He established the adventurous 99CHANTS label in 2018, and has since used it as an output for his most progressive notions, collaborating most recently with jazz-noise vocalist Cansu Tanrikulu and Carnatic singer Sushma Soma on last year"s acclaimed "Imaginary Landscapes" compilation. VIS then is a chance for August to reconcile his personal narrative, leveling it with concepts that touch on history, transformation and metaphysics. He wrote the album"s 13 pieces to play like a linear storyline, tracking the development of culture from its illusory beginnings in Plato"s cave into the wider world and observing its progression and adaptation.

August represents these themes with levitational orchestral drones, choirs and bells that slowly bend to long-forgotten ancestral rhythms, inevitably colliding with the digitized chaos of the information age. Motion guides everything, whether it"s shadows on a wall projected by dancing flames, or dramatic, overlayed rhythms that vibrate the air and excite the feet. VIS is a dynamic attempt to show the movement of time on a macro scale, looking backwards in order to move forwards. It charts mankind"s journey from its cosmic beginnings through the awe-inspiring world of flora and fauna, grounding the experience in rhythmic expression and dance before we"re returned to the stars in transcended form. Crucially, it"s a hopeful articulation of ideas and concepts that continue to echo throughout history, inviting us to imagine greater and cherish the teeming landscape that surrounds us.

A month after the release of his debut album as Tambores En Benirras, 2021’s fabulous Orbe Dotodo, Graham Newby’s life changed forever. After years living with a visual impairment, his sight had deteriorated so much that he was declared “registered blind”. For a man who had spent decades dividing his time between travelling, DJing, running clubs and lengthy sessions in his own studio, it was a genuinely life-changing moment.

It was against this backdrop, and the need to alter his working methods, that Ondas Horizontales, the second Tambores En Benirras album took shape. Inspired by a mixture of daydreaming, visualisation, immersion in other people’s music (escapism that provided mood enhancement, rather than a specific set of ideas) and long periods spent soaking up the sun in Ibiza, the album is the most vividly detailed, sonically colourful, and sun-soaked collection that Newby has released to date.

Newby’s declining sight forced him to stop spending long spells staring at a screen and undoubtedly slowed down the production process. Yet it also allowed him to reconnect with his emotions, appreciate the storytelling and mood-shifting potential of music, and mine mind’s eye memories of places and spaces that have meant much to him over the years.

The results are undeniably stunning. Designed with horizontal listening in mind, the set distils a range of musical and real-life inspirations –or, as he puts it, “ambient soundtracks, cosmic journeys, Balearic rhythms and poolside sessions” – into ten mesmerising and magical tracks; an undulating, slow-motion journey that’s as breath-taking as it is beguiling.

Newby sets the tone with ‘Mi Sueno Vibe En Reverb’, a swelling, slow-burn ambient masterpiece that tiptoes between hope and melancholia, before flitting between imaginary sunset soundtracks (‘Estrellas En Mastella’, where lilting pedal steel sounds, bubbling electronics and shuffling breakbeats catch the ear), kaleidoscopic sun-up beats (the gorgeous warmth of ‘Generadora De Reyos’), enveloping beatless soundscapes (‘Templos Del Sol’, a drowsy drift in becalmed waters under the heat of the mid-afternoon sun), and dubby, loved-up lusciousness (‘Mokono’).

As the album progresses, bobbing and weaving on an ocean of vibrant chords, pulsing melodies and heart-stopping melodies, there’s no sign of Newby’s inspiration waving. ‘Alma Hablando’ channels the spirit of mid-80s ‘worldbeat’ and douses it in layers of Balearic bliss, while ‘Extrensor Entragado’ recalls the head-nodding haziness of his best Gripper productions of old while combining them with the musical equivalent of a humid summer breeze. Then there’s the mood-enhancing joy of the album’s superb title track –a mission statement of sorts – and the life-affirming post trip-hop/Balearic fusion of ‘Un Placer Celestial (Reprise)’, where the influence of his old friend Aim is clearly evident.

A serious sonic step-up from its predecessor and a future Balearic classic in its’ own right, Ondas Horizontales marks the start of a new musical and personal journey for its creator. It is, in his words, not the end of an era, but the start of a new one.

With one foot planted in jazz and the other in the township groove of Mbaqanga, saxophonist Sello Mmutung was a powerful crossover figure in the history of popular music in South Africa. Using the stage name Bra Sello, meaning “brother” and used as a term of affection and respect in the jazz community, he came up in the era of shellac 78s as an exponent of the 1960s sax jive sound that brought the swinging rhythm of kwela into the domain of South African jazz. Despite the injection of American rhythm and blues into South African pop in the late-1960s, Bra Sello’s first releases on vinyl on the CBS label saw him backed by the group Abafana Bentuthuko and holding down an unapologetic township sound.

Joining the independent Soweto label under producer Cambridge Matiwane in the mid-1970s, Bra Sello recorded two records in the hit-making bump jive style popularised by serious jazz musician Dollar Brand on the one hand and prolific studio group the Movers, operating in funk and soul territory, on the other. Blending modern American and traditional African elements into joyful hip-swinging rhythms, Butterfly (1975) and The Battle of Disco (1977) reflect the vivacity of urban life in South Africa and document an era when dance music was performed by bands as extended jams laced with jaw-dropping solos. With music trends shifting dramatically in the late-1970s, the title of The Battle of Disco was an ironic call to arms in response to the territory that group musicians were beginning to cede to synthesisers and DJs.

For enthusiasts of African music from the 1970s, a full appreciation of the continent’s output is incomplete without South Africa’s pop-jazz sound providing a regional counterpoint to the funk experimentation of West Africa. Reissued for the very first time, Bra Sello returns in 2023 with limited replica editions from Afrodelic using master tape sources from the As-Shams/The Sun collection. Afrodelic’s unique edition of Butterfly features a previously unreleased track on Side B.

Kerri Chandler’s Kaoz Theory kicks off 2022 with Mr. ID’s Language Of Jazz EP, featuring two remixes from the label boss himself alongside two original cuts.

2021 saw Kerri Chandler’s Kaoz Theory continue to move from strength to strength, unveiling material from the likes of Dutch rising star Chris Stussy and of course Kerri himself, here we see the imprint wrap things up with a new addition to the roster, Casablanca, Morocco-based artist Mr. ID.

Up first on the release is ‘Track ID1’, a collaboration between Mr. ID and Youssef Grirane featuring Rita Mdn. It’s a unique six-minute journey through jazzy pianos and organ licks, intricate organic percussion and mesmeric, textural atmospheres. Kerri gives it the remix treatment in style extracting all of the jazziness of the original and retwisting things with the classic Chandler authentic house feel. Next, Chandler employs his revered 623 alias for the ‘623 Again Mix’ version which strips things back to low-slung drums, bumpy stabs and emotive piano lines.

The flip side houses ‘Track ID1’ in all its original glory before ‘Track ID2’ closes out proceedings seeing Mr. ID join forces with Younes Akhraz, rhythmically shifting to a jazzy 4/4 drum groove while wandering keys and warm subs fuel the mystical vibe.

DJ Feedback:

Sasha – Tasty

Laurent Garnier – Love the whole EP

Jimpster – Jazzed up piano house heaven! Love It!

Lea Lisa – Lovely remix by Kerri

Mr. V – Kerri delivers the goods once again!!!

Anja Schneider – Great. Love It.

Archie Hamilton – Nice

Andrew Treagust - Man that's some crazy production – really like it!

Mike W - absolutely classic release. how on earth could you go wrong? the world needs more piano!

Fish Go Deep - All tracks sounding great here. ID1 is a lovely warm groove and Kerri's remixes inject a little dancefloor bump to proceedings.

Daniel Troberg – incredible music

Kiki Navarro – excellent single, loving all the mixes special ID1 and the Kerri Chandler Main Remix

Ben Lovett – Remix mastery from Chandler – wonderful meeting of piano and drum – fire.

Sergio – Excellent example of classic house with personality

Hector Samper – Amazing EP!!!

Kerri Chandler returns to his own Kaoz Theory label with ‘Prayer’, featuring the vocals of F L Brown, and in true Chandler fashion comprised of a variety of mixes on the single
Over the past twenty releases Kaoz Theory has showcased material from the likes of Ben Rau, Satoshi Tomiie, DJ Sneak, DJ W!ld, Art Department and DJ Deep as well as of course material from the label-boss himself, Kerri Chandler.

Here the latter deliver his latest single, entitled ‘Prayer’ and as the name would suggest channelling gospel house influence in varying forms.

The ‘Media Mix’ leads the way over choppy bass stabs, cinematic piano lines and shuffled 909 drums. Followed by the instrumental for those who like to get the heads down, and just groove.

The ‘623 Again Vocal Mix’ on the flip, shifts things into Dub Techno realms courtesy of a bumpy, driving rhythm, unfaltering stabs and robust low-end tones.

To wrap things up the ‘Feel Mix’ follows next, stripping things back to crunchy drums, airy chords and a snaking bass groove.

Powering out across the open highways, House Of Disco, stick it in 5th gear for their 23rd outing that see’s the return of the mighty Fouk. Four funked up, disco house jams that are drenched in undeniable grooves, ‘80s synth gold and tight percussive touches.

The A side houses ‘Release The Kraken’ with it's pitch bent synthwork, juicy basslines and emphatic vocal touches from Thumpasaurus. Next up the signature Fouk sound is bottled up on ‘Night Shift’, marrying sweltering synths with hazy Rhodes, beefy bass and infectious drums.

Flip it over to find the walking bass badness and acid infused melodies of ‘Gloriole’, with ‘Arrakis’, a strutting summertime guitar-led jam full of choice chants, ‘80s fuzzy keys and bongo loops, taking the closing spot - the perfect way to round off this huge House Of Disco release.

To Celebrate The 6th Anniversary Of The Agency, Rotate Prepared A Hefty 4xlp Compilation Featuring Its Key Artists. 'rotations Ii' Is The Seven-chapter Follow-up To rotations I' Out In 2016 And Features Tracks From Most Of The Current Music Crafters In The Rotate Family: A Collection Of Personal Musical Excursions And Peculiar Studies Of Rhythm And Sound, From Artists Full Of Wit, And Grit. 'phase Five' (a1) Is Yuzo Iwata's Debut On Rotate And, Without Surprise, Is A Showcase Of Sonic Wizardry That Sets The Tone To The Entire Compilation With Its Dreamy (and Almost Delirious) Atmosphere And Marching Organic Groove. 'aphasia' (a2) Has Anestie Gomez Shifting The Gears To A More Minimalistic Sonic Palette Of Razor-sharp Drum Programming, Sophisticated Swing, And Deep Acidic Low-ends. The Flipside 'hypnosis' (b1) Is Leiris's Debut Solo On Rotate And A True Study On Reduced Raw Grooves And Abstract Sound-design, Wrapped In Amidst Of Hypnotic Mystery. 'partenaire Particulier' (b2) Brings Back Leiris Together With Ben Vedren As "monkey Nenufar": A Spellbinding, Steady-beat Ride Full Of Joyful Chords And Filtered Echoes For Certified Euphoria. Levi Verspeek Kicks The Flip-side With 'paying 420' (c1), A Focused 4 By 4 Excursion Focused On Groove And On-point Sampling Of Minuscule Percussive Loops Teeming Around A Central Pulsating Bassline. Funky, Vibrant And Full Of Emotion, Pit Spector's 'back From Cdv' (c2) Is A Love Letter To The Esteemed Club Der Visionaere, And An Ode To The Micro-house Aficionados, Especially Those With A Soft Spot For Latin Rhythms. Denis Kaznacheev's 'poromechanics' (d) Is A 15-minute Sonic Delirium Through Startling Soundscapes, Sweltering Rhythms And Barely-sane Micro-sampling, Ultimately Setting A Hypnotic, Enigmatic Tone To The Closing Of This Compilation. "rotations Ii" Is A Versatile Comeback To This V.a. Series Where Rotate Artists Can Be Themselves, Loyal To Their Own Sound And Their Very Distinct Personalities.

MTY-3.14 “π”, released on March 14, 2026, is the fifth and final chapter of a journey begun fifteen years ago.



This standard edition presents the final form of Polar Inertia across three 12" vinyl records, featuring 11 tracks. Nothing added, nothing removed—only the music, unfolding in full.



Images dissolve, words fall away. What remains are faint echoes, like footprints slowly erased in fresh snow.



This final opus does not close the path. It fades into it. π is not an ending, but a state: the moment where movement continues, even as the world turns silent.



A last step.
A final trace.
Still moving, beneath the cold.



POLAR INERTIA



We are no one because we want to be no one,
And to be no one we have to be everywhere and nowhere- Polar Inertia examines the enigmatic and blurry realms, embracing the art of obscured vision.


Encountering the collective Polar Inertia is much like being absorbed by fog and captivated by its ever-shifting forms and densities, with things being as indistinguishable as in a whiteout.



Formed in 2010 by a group of artists, Polar Inertia transcends visibility, delving into structures that lie beyond the public gaze. Layers upon layers intertwine within the fabric of Polar Inertia, extending beyond their profound electronic compositions and live performances. It manifests as a conceptual universe, where sound, monochrome aesthetics, and elusive narratives converge, much like trying to grasp the intangible fog. The entity that is Polar Inertia is involved in installations, print- and video work and texts created for different contexts and live in different spheres such as Palais de Tokyo in Paris or the Lyon Biennale of Contemporary Art. Still, clubs and festivals are perfect spaces to experience these nebulous soundworlds and immerse in them. Fittingly, some of Polar Inertia’s appearances include the colossal halls of Berghain and Bassiani and at experimental festivals like Mutek Montreal and Atonal Berlin, that like to break with the classic club conventions.



Polar Inertia's sonic landscape unfolds with wafting textures accompanied by resonating beats and drones, reverberating through empty spaces, merging with the vast expanse of nothingness. Their sound exists at the crossroads of ambient, experimental, and deep techno, interwoven with vocal narratives. Since their inaugural release “Indirect Light“ on Dement3d Records in 2011, they remain a stronghold of relevance and captivation in the electronic domain.



Mastered by sixbitdeep, with artistic direction by Diplomatie Studio.

BLK ODYSSY is an Austin-based artist and producer whose boundary-pushing sound blends soul, hip-hop, rock, funk, and pop. Born in Plainfield, New Jersey, and raised in a household steeped in neo-soul, BLK began channeling his voice through music after the unjust killing of his older brother by police at age 12. That life-altering loss and the experience of growing up Black and male in 21st-century America fuels his raw, layered storytelling. His debut album, BLK VINTAGE (2021), written and produced with close collaborators, served as both a celebration and a critique of Black identity in America. It was met with critical acclaim and re-released in 2022 via Empire as BLK VINTAGE: The Reprise, featuring Mereba, Benny the Butcher, George Clinton, and Baby Rose. The project has since amassed over 100 million streams and positioned BLK ODYSSY as a standout voice in modern soul. His 2023 sophomore album, DIAMONDS & FREAKS, continued his ascent, merging surrealism and social commentary with contributions from Rapsody, KIRBY, Bootsy Collins, Cory Henry, and production from The Alchemist. NPR called BLK “a surrealist R&B auteur,” while Pitchfork praised his ability to bend genre into a cinematic sonic experience. In 2024, following a surreal Tiny Desk performance and festival appearances across Europe—including a headline set at North Sea Jazz Festival and Lollapalooza in Chicago—BLK ODYSSY launched a bold new chapter, with his third studio album, 1-800 FANTASY. The first single from the album, “WANT YOU” (co-produced by Tyler Johnson, known for his work with Harry Styles), marked a shift in tone. That was followed by “XXX” featuring Wiz Khalifa, and “STANK ROSE” featuring Joey Bada$$. Now averaging over 1M+ weekly streams, BLK ODYSSY is unleashing his fourth project, MOOD CONTROL, a ten-track album pushing alt-R&B, soul, and funk to new heights. 1xLP, pressed on Green, Brown & White 3 Color A Side B Side Vinyl.

Das bisschen Totschlag’s new LP 0dB Headroom drifts through a cathartic kind of vulnerability—telling stories of losing, larking, and feeling everything all at once. Its soundscape echoes the act of remembering: manipulated samples and floating guitars bent through distorted electronics embody memory not as a fixed archive, but as something alive: tender, fractured, shifting. Moments come back in flashes—sometimes radiant, sometimes aching, always familiar, yet blurred and distorted. A beautiful mess that you can’t ever fully capture.
(FFO: Alex G, Wednesday, Maria Somerville)

Miles Borghese’s Direct Styles, up next on Jupiter’s Depth, explores a meditative dub techno palette that sits somewhere between dub, tech-house, and minimalist club music. Following a run of standout releases on 9FINITY and Squid Recordings, among others, we’re thrilled to welcome that alien modern club sound to the label.

The floor-focused Direct Styles opens with the title track, driven by a hyperactive bassline and layered with delay-drenched synth chords, galloping through time with restless momentum. On A2, a more tempestuous techno side of Miles Borghese reveals itself on “Dark Plan,” charging the release with a mind-bending looped groove, pulling everything on earth into a hypnotic, blitzed state.

“Climber” — a storm of immaculately constructed, phase-shifting textures that drags us deep into the B-side; a real dub-techno delight made for outer space. Closing the EP, Miles joins forces with Pipo Renault on the lush “Parapluie”: warm and groove-focused, a captivating, house-leaning masterclass built to keep you moving.

A Bandcamp-only digital bonus, Substance, awaits those willing to dig a little deeper.

2026 Repress

Melbourne’s DJ Ali is up next on Blue Hour Music with a powerful EP of fast percussive tribal groovers recorded live over multiple hardware sessions. ‘Interceptor’ kicks off the record with energising and rolling momentum laced in echoes of shamanic ritual. ‘Paradox Cell’ maintains the tension with a stripped back and pumping drum track enhanced by repeating tones and swirling winds that suddenly take over. On the flip ‘Nightwatch’ feels even more immersive, tunnelling down into hypnotic chambers where a voice guides and pulls the listener through a lucid void. ’Regeneration’ rounds up the record with an uplifting journey that begins to unfold with a series of shifting layers and hints of colour beneath a haze of euphoria.

The much-missed Vaughn Benjamin reminds us why his approach to reggae lyricism remains peerless with “Charges,” a standout track from the Polarities LP released on 7” vinyl for the first time. Arriving amidst an era of global economic shifts, the release feels forcefully timely. Genius metaphorical wordplay and wide-ranging subjects are distilled into a cohesive whole as the global economy and its entrapping neo-colonial rules come under the microscope. Produced by Zion I Kings with Tippy I at the helm, the track is anchored by the rock-solid drumming of Lloyd “Junior” Richards and the propulsive bass of David “JAH David” Goldfine. This release features a previously unheard B-side dub, giving space to the celestial synth work of the late Andrew “Drew Keys” Stoch. This series honours both the vocal and version culture of the reggae sound system and the profound lyricism of Vaughn Benjamin.

At the start of this summer, following a three-year hiatus for Daphni (punctuated only by his first ever collaborative Daphni track ‘Unidos’ alongside Sofia Kourtesis), he dropped ‘Sad Piano House’. The track represented something of a continuation in the Daphni catalogue, its roots growing from Cherry’s ‘Cloudy’ and its subsequent Kelbin remix, something in that song’s makeup having a profound effect when played on dancefloors by Snaith and countless others. ‘Sad Piano House’ deployed more intangibly irresistible bendy piano to equally satisfying effect and continues to achieve similarly rhapsodic dancefloor saturation.
Though a sizeable gap for Daphni releases, between Cherry and Butterfly however of course sits Honey, the latest Caribou album and one that saw the more instantaneous and dancefloor leaning traits of Daphni peaking through the cracks more than ever before. This blurring of the lines leads to an intriguing collaboration in Butterfly’s lead single ‘Waiting So Long (feat. Caribou)’. An unlikely duo - in that both artists are the same man, Dan Snaith - ‘Waiting So Long’ is not so much an identity crisis, ego trip, or the result of a chemical spill in the Snaith laboratory. It’s simply a track that Snaith felt for the first time belongs to both aliases, and might appeal to fans of both. He has never sung on a Daphni track before, and did not set out with the intention to do so this time, and yet this strange billing was born.

Daphni music has always been Snaith’s way of hitting directly to the core of the dancefloors he spends so much of his time playing to, and those dancefloors have been steadily expanding as his name grows, with the music following suit. This album however also draws from further back with a definite kinship to the very first Daphni album, the invigorating bag of ideas that was Jiaolong.
Butterfly is a showcase of the wonderful variety and surprising twists and turns that made that album such an exciting new prospect and that still to this day make Snaith such an intriguing DJ. There are more heavy hitters here, tracks that fill those dancefloors better than anyone, like ‘Clap Your Hands’ which picks up the energy of ‘Sad Piano House’ and flips it, exposing the gritty and intoxicating underbelly of Snaith’s hitmaking side, while retaining the playful urgency that runs through all of his work of late. Meanwhile ‘Hang’’s comic-strip horns are unpinned by gleeful force, unrelenting and thrillingly unshakeable. Elsewhere though comes a clutch of other tunes that might creep out somewhere more off the beaten path, a path Snaith has never stopped seeking in amongst his larger billings. ‘Lucky’ is squirmy and elusively intoxicating, ‘Invention’ skitters down meandering, inviting corridors, ‘Talk To Me’ grumbles and broods in the murk, and ‘Miles Smiles’ could roll on endlessly, so confident in its groove. There are no obvious peaks in these tracks or unifying moments, in fact many of them really have no business being on the dancefloor at all, and yet in the right setting, they could be the most fun to be had all night.

One such club is a good microcosm for the ethos of Butterfly as a whole. “Around the time I was finishing up this album I played a long set in a club called Open Ground in Wuppertal, Germany.” Snaith recalls, “It’s kind of, in one sense, the platonic ideal of the kind of club I’d want to play in. Every single decision has been taken, at great expense, with the aim of making the perfect sounding medium sized club room. But on top of it being the perfect acoustic environment it also is run by an amazing collection of people in a way that gives it a sense of community that dance music at its best provides. It is an absolute pleasure to play in that room to a crowd of people who come from all over. Playing in there you feel like you can play anything, and I played works in progress of pretty much every track on this album in my set there. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing a short set at a festival or in a more raw warehouse kind of club where you bang it out and only really functional music works but on record I guess the point of these Daphni records is to keep in mind a more expansive idea of dance music where the parameters are broad and the church is broad. I think that actually, putting really functional stuff next to weirder tracks (both on an album and in a dj set) might be the thing that’s still most interesting to me.”
This is the feeling that’s most palpable on Butterfly, and in every single time you see Snaith DJ. Right from the inception of the Daphni alias - and even before that – the thrill of trying stuff out, pushing at the boundaries has always been there and on Butterfly is present in all its twists and turns. It leaps all over the place and yet it hangs together, never feeling like a grab bag of dancefloor utilities but rather a distillation of all the strings to Snaith’s bow, exhilaratingly human and unified by one singular concept – simple and joyful exploration.

On Hungry Animal, Luke Temple continues to trace the invisible lines between the personal and the cosmic _ between what we feel, what we observe, and what we inherit simply by being alive. The album reunites Temple with Doug Stuart (bass) and Kosta Galanopoulos (drums), the core of his Cascading Moms ensemble, whose instinctive chemistry anchors the record's balance of rhythmic precision and melodic drift. Together they shape a sound that feels handmade and fluid, delivering sharp observations in soft focus. The album opens with "Clean Living," a tenderly libidinous groove, unraveling purity myths and self-discipline _ less a confession than a celebration of the futility of striving for perfection in a flawed world. From there, "Echo Park Donut" shifts into the memory of an unsettling vignette drawn from a violent incident outside Temple's Los Angeles home. The band moves with a quiet pulse beneath the story, suggesting both detachment and the surreal intimacy of fear. The title track, "Hungry Animal," grounds the album's broader questions: how well can we really know one another, or ourselves? Temple's lyrics circle around the idea that we are animals among animals, driven by instinct and affection alike. It's both playful and philosophical, one of the record's emotional centers. Temple's bandmates bring an understated mastery to these pieces. Stuart's melodic, infectious grooves converse fluidly with Galanopoulos's drumming, which breathes life into each song even as it gently propels them forward. The trio's interplay feels both weightless and deeply rooted _ commanding the listener's attention and empathy without ever forcing it. With Hungry Animal, Luke Temple and the Cascading Moms create a world where reflection becomes rhythm and consciousness gains texture _ a record of quiet revelations and deliberate grace.

With Spam Vol.2, KVR - Niels Broos, Dries Laheye & Lander Gyselinck - delivers its second statement.



Recorded in a beautiful studio tucked beneath a bridge in Rotterdam, the album distills a week of free improvisation into vivid, shape-shifting pieces. A beautiful chaos of bass guitars, synths stacked on clavs, drums and machines to get lost in, in between coincidence and intention. Jungle rhythms, elastic time, open structures and organic textures come together in a lively sound that feels playful as well as restless and deeply intuitive.



KVR is Niels Broos (Jameszoo, Binkbeats) on keys, Dries Laheye (STUFF., Selah Sue) on bass and Lander Gyselinck (STUFF., Lander & Adriaan, BeraadGeslagen) on drums.



For fans of Thundercat, Hudson Mohawke, The Comet Is Coming, Jameszoo, etc.

Força Maior combines the vital saxophone explorations of Pedro Alves Sousa with the infinitely subtle electronic processing of Pedro Tavares. Sousa (aka Má Estrela) is known for manipulating his woodwind through guitar pedalboards & amplifiers, creating far-from-ordinary sonics rooted in unceasing curiosity. For his part, Tavares (aka funcionário) conjoins video & sound work to create space for the pensive wanderings where memory and imagination interlace.

The album Morte Lilás was recorded over a week in June 2023 in Pedro Alves Sousa's family farm, located in the village of Ferreirim, near Lamego, in Portugal. The partly abandoned farm served as the residency, studio, and inspiration for the album: it is a 400-year-old granite farm that belonged to a member of the "40 conspirators"—a group that led the revolution for Portugal's independence from Spain in the 17th century.

Morte Lilás is a remarkable album of committed meditation. Each day on the farm was a recording day for the two Pedros: Sousa on sax & electronics, Tavares on sampler & processing. Apart from slight sonic incursions from the surrounds—the birds on 'Quinta à tarde'—and the sporadic use of sine tones, the source sounds all start from the saxophone. It is then processed both by Sousa & Tavares. The album unfolds as a saxophonic tapestry that breathes with quiet intensity. Each piece invites close listening, revealing fine gestures and tonal shifts that shape a contemplative, ambient space. Força Maior move with calm precision.

The album opens with the unhurried overture 'Quinta à Tarde' a Portuguese pun on Eno's Thursday Afternoon that announces the textures at play. Sousa's breathy entrance is paired with a soft, delicately shifting, backdrop. As the track progresses, time seems to stretch. The arrangement resists urgency, favouring subtle evolution over dramatic turns. Pensive layers shift & drift, creating a sense of suspended motion that brings the listener into the environs of Morte Lilás. 'Quinta à Tarde' is a long-form fade, shifting emphasis from Sousa to Tavares.

'Cubos' continues the gauzy feel, but with a more up-tempo tilt. Rhythmic clicks & pings setup a swung time for the sax to interpose melodic lines that are fed back & bent with cascading delays. Força Maior in distilled form.

Força Maior is in top form on the title track 'Morte Lilás', a sprawling centrepiece that showcases their command of atmosphere & emotional pacing. By turning up the reverberation & leaning into a continuous format, they dissolve the gap between hypnotic trance & articulate reverie. Then, a moment of stillness. The track pauses, not abruptly but like a tide pulling back, revealing the contours beneath. What follows is a return to the album's more relaxed architecture: understated rhythms, softened textures, and a sense of spaciousness that opens space for reflection. It is a transition that feels organic, as if the song itself needed to exhale before settling back into its contemplative groove.

'Menta' is another short-form miniature of the band's signature contours: beautiful loops of air pressure gradients that carry an emotive weight & light.

The album closes with 'Cascata do Inferno'. The title suggests violence, but the music whispers instead—an atmospheric cascade of breath & tone that emerges in slow, deliberate waves. Short melodic cycles are matched by shimmering electronic chords. It's a piece that rewards patience, draws the listener in to drift downstream, eyes closed, into the serene turbulence of its current.

Loaded with tension and anchored by bold textural and stylistic contrasts, Sam Slater’s third solo full-length finds the British sound artist, composer, and engineer grappling with his creative contradictions head-on.

Having spent a life time in bands and producing records, Sam transitioned somewhat by accident through his work with Johan Johansson into working as a composer on high profile projects such as his collaboration with Hildur Guðnadóttir on the Grammy Award-winning Joker and Chernobyl, and with Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Mstyslav Chernov on the soundtrack to the lauded 2000 Meters to Andriivka. Having a vast set of interests and influences is an asset when helping realise a directors vision for a soundtrack, but one's own musical voice can end up being constrained. In Lunng, Slater has gone back to his wildly divergent range of influences and rather than shy away from the extremes, he's used them to create a singular vision.

Take the opening track “Heatsick”: Slater imagines an extravagant fusion of 2000s drone metal and vintage British brass, welding ear-splitting overdriven drones and blown-out choral vocals to stirring trombone swells from veteran player Hilary Jeffery. On paper, it’s hard to imagine—but Slater’s intentionality conducts these polarizing elements into a surreal blur of sonic extremes, with the guitars’ relative harshness softened by Jeffery’s eerily nostalgic colliery echoes.

His last solo album, I do not wish to be known as a Vandal (Bedroom Community, 2022), showcased this breadth by assembling a team of collaborators including Sam Dunscombe and Yair Elazar Glotman. On this record he’s linking up with acclaimed multi-instrumentalist Maria W. Horn, idiosyncratic sax virtuoso Bendik Giske, versatile percussionist Adam Betts, and the aforementioned Jeffery, Slater ushers these players toward a lattice of calculated confutations.

Working to explore the tension between the divergent practices of his collaborators—Lunng was meant to be challenging. On “Praya”, Giske’s familiar overblown horn phrases are almost vaporized, vanishing among Slater’s weightless synths and Horn’s chillingly hoarse vocals. There are traces of Horn’s Funeral Folk project, but Slater shifts the emphasis, letting her voice brush past the other elements like a hallucination.

Slater’s use of extremes isn’t just in the micro; dynamics drive the album’s overall flow. “Praya” sets the stage for the record’s heaviest, most prickly moment: “Passengers”. Here, Horn’s voice cracks, rasps, and gurgles over serrated synths and Betts’ ritualistic drums. Slater turns an industrial symphony into a folk opera—dark, dramatic, and strangely beautiful—etched with Giske’s fluttering phrases.

But the mood soon shifts. Slater careens toward chaos, unleashing double-time rhythms and piercing textures familiar to anyone with a soft spot for classic black metal. These grotesque incongruities are deliberate; Slater surveys years of musical conflict and leans in, using dissent as fuel to build kinetic energy.

The weight of sentimentality bears down on “Black Metal Rewind (Night Drive Astra, 2006)”, melting teenage memories into hypnagogic ambience—shoegaze dreams whirled with angelic choral delusions. On “Death by Nostalgia, 1688”, he ventures further into polarizing territory, distorting AutoTuned voices with cryptic strings and medieval tonalities, unsettling any stable sense of past or present.

In this record Slater focuses on pure energy, color, and mood. Lunng distills years of listening into a bracing brew—boiling each sound down to its essence, then serving it with unflinching intent.

John Twells, 2025

Noctourniquet And then everything went black, at least for a while, at least for The Mars Volta. In the months and years following their fifth full-length, Octahedron, Omar kept on at his usual fearsome creative pace. In fact, he ramped up his output considerably, starting up his own Rodriguez Lopez Productions label and releasing a slew of solo albums. It was a practice he’d begun shortly after De-Loused’s release, with his solo debut A Manual Dexterity: Soundtrack Volume One, but as the decade reached its close, Omar grew to rely upon his solo recordings as an outlet for his prolific creativity, these albums often exploring musical pastures far beyond even The Mars Volta’s wide-ranging parameters. Before choosing to release music under his own name, Omar would always play it to Cedric first, to see if the frontman thought it had potential to become Mars Volta music. Shortly after Octahedron’s completion, Cedric flagged one batch of tracks Omar had cut with Deantoni Parks, a brilliant drummer and composer who’d briefly occupied the Mars Volta drumstool in-between Jon Theodore and Thomas Pridgen’s tenures, and whose volcanic creativity and unique, unpredictable approach to rhythm and composition had quickly made him one of Omar’s favourite artistic foils.

As with the music that made up Octahedron, the new tracks Cedric had optioned for The Mars Volta often veered far from the riotous, Grand Guignol visions of their earlier releases. It possessed the punchy, song-based focus of Octahedron, though this was a considerably darker, more menacing strain of pop, with synthesisers figuring heavily in the productions. Cedric took the tracks in 2009 and set about writing songs to the music. But no more new Mars Volta music would be heard until 2012. The years that passed in-between were nonetheless momentous, and busy, witnessing an unexpected reunion of the members of At The Drive-In, and Cedric joining his own side-project, Anywhere. But there wasn’t any sign of life within the Mars Volta until Omar, Cedric and their bandmates took to the road for a series of live shows in the spring of 2011, billed as The Omar Rodriguez-Lopez Group, debuting the songs that would become Noctourniquet. The album followed the next year, and it remains one of The Mars Volta’s finest, its electronic textures staking out unfamiliar but fertile new ground.

An unsettling, subtly turbulent listen, Noctourniquet found Cedric sketching out a story about “some sort of device that stops the darkness from bleeding”, drawing influence variously from the nursery rhyme Solomon Grundy, the Greek myth of Hyacinthus and the song Birth, School, Work, Death by British underground rockers The Godfathers. It was an album of dystopian futurism, signalled by the paranoid cyber-rock of opener The Whip Hand and its unnerving chorus, “That’s when I disconnect from you”. But it was also an album of inspired, unexpected moves and uncanny invention, like how Dyslexicon seemed to eerily evoke Blondie’s Rapture, before rushing headlong into its bruising chorus, tempos shifting restlessly throughout like quaking earth beneath the listener’s feet, or how Aegis put a brave new spin on The Mars Volta’s trademark rewiring of salsa’s overdriven passions, or how Cedric had never sounded as scary as he did on The Malkin Jewel’s mutant burlesque shuffle. Tracks like Molochwalker were sleek and concise in a way The Mars Volta had never really attempted before – which was all part of Omar’s plan.

“It had all been guitar, guitar, guitar, overdubs, everything fighting for space in the same frequency,” he explains. “So for Noctourniquet, it was all about subtracting elements, of sticking to how I made demos.” Deantoni’s presence helped revivify the group, playing against cliché and expectation, and taking each song in unexpected directions. “I’d beatbox a rhythm for him to play, to go with my guitar part, and he’d come back with three or four alternate options. It was so great.” Similarly, Cedric had never sung better than on Noctourniquet, staking out a fearsome spectrum from the chilling Tom Waitsian growl of The Malkin Jewel to the keening, beautiful vocalisation on Vedamalady, rising to match some of Omar’s most deft, most immediately effective and melodic songs yet. Indeed, Noctourniquet is the sound of a band discovering new ways to do familiar things, renewing their commitment to their mission, finding fresh inspiration a decade in, and shaking off any complacency that might have come with ten years of acclaim and success.

A chopped-and-screwed love letter to the sounds of rebajada – half-speed cumbia, pioneered by Sonido Dueñez in the 1990s, and born from an overheated turntable motor that didn’t make the crowd stop dancing. With Debit’s treatment, rebajada becomes an ethereal, at times intense ambient tapestry that’s also a history lesson.

Spend any amount of time pacing the streets of Monterrey, the bustling city in the north of Mexico where Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, grew up, and you’ll be sure to catch traces of cumbia echoing from Bluetooth speakers, DIY soundsystems, or car stereos. An Afro-Latin dance form and »practica cultural« originating in Colombia in the early 19th century, cumbia evolved rapidly in the early 1900s, as a localised sound played on drums and flutes quickly modernised to integrate European instrumentation like the accordion. When it reached Mexico in the 1940s, the sound shifted again, fusing with mariachi styles and integrating further vallenato folk elements. Eventually, cumbia spread across the entirety of Latin America, splintering into a spectrum of different musical styles such as chicha in Peru, and cumbia villera in Argentina. And over in Monterrey, cumbia inadvertently found its own idiosyncratic groove.

From the 1950s to the 1970s, waves of immigrants from across Mexico and Latin America headed to Monterrey to find work, making a home in Colonia Independencia. Colombian cumbia records, shipped in from Mexico City, Houston, and Miami, became the soundtrack of the neighbourhood, relaying familiar stories to a rural working class adjusting to their new industrial reality. The sound struck a chord with locals, and huge street parties hosted by ramshackle soundsystems known as sonideros unified the diverse community. So when cumbia rebajada materialised serendipitously in the 1990s, it emphasised and highlighted the memory distortions at the heart of the immigrant experience. Local record collector, selector, and sonidero Gabriel Dueñez had been playing cumbia for hours one night when disaster struck: his turntable’s motor overheated and slowed down, turning the music into a warped groan, with half-speed voices echoing over wobbly accordion drones and splashy drums. But the crowd kept dancing, and Sonido Dueñez realised he’d struck gold – cumbia rebajada was born.

Over the next few years, he dubbed a popular series of mixtapes, hawking them at the flea market on the dried-up Santa Catarina riverbed beneath El Puente del Papa, the bridge that links downtown Monterrey with Independencia. These woozy archives became the stuff of legend, poetically but subconsciously shadowing DJ Screw’s series of epochal cassettes that appeared over the border in Houston. Beatriz uses Sonido Dueñez’s first two tapes as the starting point for »Desaceleradas«, entering into a dialogue with time, culture, and geography as she recalls the sonic ecosystem that surrounded her decades ago, long before she emigrated to the USA. If 2022’s acclaimed »The Long Count« was an attempt to recover concealed pre-Columbian history in the face of colonisation, »Desaceleradas« jumps forward, figuring out how memory and shared celebration can resist a more contemporary form of cultural erasure. As AI systems scrape, blend, and decontextualise culture around us, leaving vapid slop, »Desaceleradas« proposes a slower, more careful, and ultimately more human kind of engagement. It’s an archive with a pulse.

Barry Adamsons Original-Soundtrack versetzt uns in die Unterwelt des nächtlichen Londons – ein lebhafter Soundtrack zum Underground-Kino und zur kulturellen Rebellion.



Barry Adamson, Gründungsmitglied von Magazine und Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds sowie gefeierter Solokünstler und Komponist, kehrt mit dem Soundtrack zu „SCALA!!!“ zurück, dem vielgelobten Dokumentarfilm über die Geschichte des berüchtigtsten Independent-Kinos Londons. Adamson, bekannt für seine Filmarbeiten, darunter Kooperationen mit David Lynch, bringt seine charakteristische Mischung aus Noir, Jazz, Funk und Atmosphäre in eine Filmmusik ein, die ebenso bewegend ist wie das Scala selbst.



Das Album fängt den Geist des Kinos ein: lange Nächte, klebrige Böden, schäbige Underground-Vorführungen und die berauschende Welt subversiver Kunst. In den 22 Titeln zaubert Adamson Stimmungen, die von grüblerisch und cineastisch bis verspielt und chaotisch reichen und die wilde Programmgestaltung und kulturelle Rebellion widerspiegeln, für die das Scala stand.



Der Film unter der Regie von Jane Giles und Ali Catterall erzählt die Geschichte des legendären Repertoirekinos King's Cross (1978–1993). Mit Interviews mit Mitarbeitern, Stammgästen und Ikonen wie John Waters, Mark Moore, Mary Harron, Isaac Julien und Ben Wheatley sowie seltenem Archivmaterial feiert er einen Ort, der zu einem Schmelztiegel für Gegenkultur, Sexploitation, Horror, Kung-Fu, LGBTQ+-Kino, Live-Musik und Kult-Doppelvorstellungen wurde.




Barry Adamson’s original score plunges us into the underworld of late-night London - a vivid soundtrack to underground cinema and cultural rebellion, available on vinyl and CD via Mute.



Barry Adamson, original member of Magazine and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and a celebrated solo artist and composer, returns with the soundtrack to SCALA!!!, the acclaimed documentary chronicling the history of London’s most infamous independent cinema. Known for his film work, including collaborations with David Lynch, Adamson brings his trademark blend of noir, jazz, funk and atmosphere to a score that’s as evocative as the Scala itself.



The album captures the cinema’s spirit: late nights, sticky floors, sleazy underground screenings, and the intoxicating world of subversive art. Across its 22 tracks, Adamson conjures moods that shift from brooding and cinematic to playful and chaotic, echoing the wild programming and cultural rebellion the Scala embodied.



The film, directed by Jane Giles and Ali Catterall, tells the story of the legendary King’s Cross repertory cinema (1978–1993). Featuring interviews with staff, regulars and icons including John Waters, Mark Moore, Mary Harron, Isaac Julien and Ben Wheatley, alongside rare archival footage it celebrates a venue that became a crucible for counterculture, sexploitation, horror, kung-fu, LGBTQ+ cinema, live music, and cult double bills.

Swan Song

The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 tracks 2 to 11 was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.

Ethiopia1976.

The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.

ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä

It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.

The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.

Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.

The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.

Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…

1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.

Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.

The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.

Dahlak Band, forgotten by History

Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.

Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.

It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.

A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.

With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.

In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.

Warning! Masterpiece!

The capstone of Miles Davis’ electric period, Agharta reigns as a funk-rock fireball — a blazing comet streaked energy and elan, a fearless organism feasting on adventure and freedom, a seven-headed Godzilla stomping its way through Osaka, Japan. Recorded on February 1, 1975 at Osaka Festival Hall at the first of a two-show stand, the double album offers an endless abundance of surprises and shifts — as well as a road-proven ensemble whose chemistry and abilities equal that of any of Davis’ celebrated bands. If the true measure of jazz is the capacity to adapt to the moment and challenge perception, Agharta is consummate.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of this epic live release presents it in audiophile sound on a domestic pressing for the first time. Offering greater degrees of separation, detail, and richness than the compressed CD editions and more clarity, openness, and presence than older vinyl copies, this version of the 1975 release helps bring the concert stage to your home. Just make sure your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge of Davis and Co.’s explosive performances — and producing the decibels they demand.

Teeming with vibrant colors, tones, and pace, Mobile Fidelity’s reissue captures the hear-it-to-believe-it flow, sweep, and moodiness of the music. Though the group honors looseness and freedom with religious verve, the specificity and scale rendered by this remaster allows you to detect methods behind the alleged madness that are often otherwise harder to discern. This insight extends to the understated changes in volume, harmonics, and phrasings. In many ways, you can listen as Davis himself did that early February evening as he helped coordinate the overall direction and decided on whether to blow his wah-wah-wired trumpet or take a turn on the organ.

Tellingly, Agharta would likely never have been made if not for Davis’ ventures overseas and, specifically, to the Land of the Rising Sun. Having for years faced a backlash on his native soil for his choices to experiment and blow past all known borders, Davis was welcomed with open arms in Japan. The concert documented on Agharta — as well as the day’s later show, captured on the equally exciting Pangea — stemmed from a sold-out three-week tour that would ultimately mark Davis’ final public appearances for years, as he soon settled into semi-retirement and nursed the wounds connected to an unprecedented stretch of restless and relentless output.

For all the band-fueled merit of Agharta — and there’s plenty, given the cast of saxophonist Sonny Fortune, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, percussionist James Mtume, and guitarists Reggie Lucas and Pete Cosey seemingly blasts off to outer space and travels distant galaxies by the time this minimally edited record runs its course — Davis’ own playing often remains overlooked. As critics Richard Cook and Brian Morton observed, it is “often fantastically subtle, creating surges and ebbs in a harmonically static line, allowing him to build huge melismatic variations on a single note.” He attacks like a man on a mission, out to prove naysayers wrong and bent on trailblazing another new path forward. Convention and skeptics be damned.

Noisy and furious, dark and discordant, abstract and off-balance, radical and intense, abrasive and atmospheric, strangely beautiful and hypnotically eccentric: Agharta evades simple description, and refuses to be pinned down in any established category — rock, jazz, punk, ambient, prog, avante-garde, or otherwise. Shot through with trench-deep grooves, screaming riffs, scalding solos, and free-improv leads, its cosmic thrust comes on as the equivalent of an animated pointillist painting comprised of millions of textured dots, dashes, and dabs that hold your attention so raptly you want to revisit the ideas again and again.

Always steps ahead of everyone else, Davis knew what he was doing even when Agharta debuted in Japan before later hitting U.S. markets. Though “Maiysha” and “Theme from Jack Johnson” are identified in the track listing, the record contains a number of uncredited references to other Davis works, including a nod to “So What.” This decision to bypass labels only adds to the art of the reveal — the rare black magic in which Agharta expertly deals.

Supergroups existed before Emerson, Lake & Palmer formed in 1970. And, as we all know well, many came after. But few, if any, matched the English trio’s chemistry and its elevated combination of virtuosity, vision, and verve. Having influenced a multitude of followers, ELP’s prowess was obvious from the start. The band’s self-titled debut stands as a towering statement of creative imagination, execution, and discipline more than five decades after its original release.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM LP of Emerson, Lake & Palmer presents the benchmark album in audiophile sound. Clear, dynamic, and balanced, this collectible edition honors the perfectionist approaches that both informed the playing and recording of the record.

Distinguished with black backgrounds, this reissue brings to light the epic scope, tonal depth, and mind-bending degrees of musicianship on display. Aspects — textures, nuances, effects, melodies, tempo changes — that go hand-in-hand with the trio’s compositions and interplay are rendered amid broad soundstages and delivered with pinpoint detail. Whether you’ve owned multiple copies of this touchstone or seeking out your first version, you’ll relish the presence, separation, imaging, and crispness that help make every song come across as if the group has set up shop in your listening space.

Opening the door to the seemingly infinite possibilities of progressive rock while steering clear of excess, Emerson, Lake & Palmer achieved a rare feat in that its complex, cerebral music didn’t prevent it from attaining mainstream success. The gold-certified effort launched the career of a band that would sell tens of millions of records. It also landed a Top 50 single in the form of the ballad “Lucky Man,” whose vocal harmonies, folksy strumming, multi-tracked instrumentation, and breakthrough Moog solo almost feel quaint in the face of the other fare on the album.

Comprised of genre-defying originals and hybrid arrangements of two classical pieces, the album Rolling Stone originally and rightly said is “best heard as a whole” matches outrageous ambition with the otherworldly skills of three musicians who remain among the finest to ever pick up their respective instruments. While Emerson soon drew the lion’s share of headlines for his ability on keys — clavinet, Moog, piano, Hammond organ, and pipe organ included — Greg Lake’s aptitude on guitar and bass, along with well as Carl Palmer’s monster talents behind the kit, created a three-headed hydra that devoured everything in front of it.

That extends to the radical reinterpretation of Bela Bartok’s “The Barbarian” that begins the LP, a performance that in less than four-and-a-half minutes runs the gamut from distorted to churchy to angular and blustery. More classical flourishes, keyboard wizardry, hard-rock heaviness, and gothic signatures emerge throughout “Knife-Edge,” which reimagines music by Leos Janacek and J.S. Bach — and ultimately invites you to explore a cathedral of sound teeming with separate bursts of keys and percussion.

And did someone say “drumming”? Check out Palmer’s monster salvo on “Tank,” a rhythmic showcase that marches out with knee-bent notes and mirror-reflected passages. Or dive into the mythological suite “The Three Fates.” Replete with three parts and Emerson playing the pipe organ at Royal Festival Hall, it shoots off sonic fireworks via sophisticated arpeggios, jazz improvisations, dancing counter-meters, sizzling chords, and a few explosions. Please don’t hold anyone at MoFi responsible if your system cannot handle it; this is heady stuff.

Indeed, everything on Emerson, Lake & Palmer is there for a purpose. Whether you aim to attempt to dissect all of the notes, shifts, and polyrhythmic bluster or just want to absorb this album as one living, breathing organism, this version invites you to do both as many times as you desire.

Emerging through waves of reverberation and haze, ‘Deep Star’ unfolds as a submerged odyssey through Coma World’s distinct terrain of leftfield dub and psychedelia. The duo of Maxwell Hallett (Betamax) and Pete Bennie craft a sound that moves between meditative underwater drift and sharp, rhythmic pressure.

Each piece develops like a current, where bass resonance and percussive detail create an undertow of motion that guides the record’s flow. Beneath the murk, subtle shifts in tone and momentum reveal the album’s depth: flickers of tension and release that mirror the shifting light below the surface.

‘Deep Star’ captures Coma World at a point of lucid refinement, translating improvisation into form without losing its raw edge. Immersive and alive with motion, it’s a record that invites listening as descent—sound as gravity, pulling you deeper the longer you stay.

Ston Elaióna is John Also Bennett’s first album for Shelter Press since his 2019 solo debut Erg Herbe. The American born, Athens, Greece, based flautist, synthesist, and composer weaves a strikingly singular electroacoustic excursion for bass flute and Yamaha DX7ii, largely recorded in the golden haze of the early morning hours - bending time at the otherworldly juncture of consciousness and place. Translating from Greek as “in the olive grove”, Ston Elaióna is permeated with the ambiences of the ancient and present world, guided into form by a playfully rigorous approach to sound.
Initially emerging during the mid 2000s as part of Columbus, Ohio’s noise scene, before relocating to NYC around 2010, Bennett’s diverse activities picked up an increasing sense of pace over the following decade - performing and recording as a solo artist (JAB), with the trio Forma and with CV &JAB, his prolific duo with his partner Christina Vantzou, as well as playing in Jon Gibson’s ensemble among many other multifaceted collaborations. However, since 2020 the flautist and electroacoustic composer has existed in a semi nomadic state: drifting between Brooklyn, Brussels, extensive tours, and Greece, where he finally came to rest in Athens last year.

Drawing upon a carefully honed attentiveness to the environments and experiences of everyday life, Ston Elaióna is a suite of nine pieces (with an additional track exclusive to physical formats), many of them composed and played live as the early morning sun touched the Parthenon, in full view from Bennett’s studio window in Athens. Bennett’s refinement and restraint, honed over his years adrift, led him to adopt a limited palette focused on his primary instrument, the bass flute, and a Yamaha DX7ii synthesizer tuned to just intonation scales. Alongside a handful of other keyboards, digital oscillators triggered by his flute, and occasional field recordings, this simple palette is reflected by the deeply emotive sense of minimalism that permeates the album’s two sides. Following two solo albums defined by outward facing temperaments - 2022’s Out there in the middle of nowhere (Poole Music), which used a lap steel guitar and generative oscillators to evoke the surreal landscapes of the South Dakota badlands, and the largely synthetic atmospheres of the 2024 anthology Music For Save Rooms 1 & 2 (Editions Basilic) - the shift in Bennett’s worldly circumstances offered an intuitive return to the calm, inward states of creative exploration that have historically defined JAB’s sound. In parallel, context provided clear sources of inspiration for many of the album’s themes, as well as sources for some of its sounds. The aura of Greece, from the ancient to the present, from its stones and olive groves to its traffic, figures heavily across Ston Elaióna’s two sides. John Also Bennett’s Ston Elaióna forms an elegantly rigorous world of electroacoustic sonority, bridging the expanse of time with the immediacies of environment and happening in the here and now: a profound sonic mediation on the countless dimensions unlocked by life in Greece.

New York-based producer Kurilo opens Tripsitter Records’ debut vinyl with "Take the Excitement", a hypnotic blend of rumbling bass and spacey synths. It's an immersive soundscape, perfect for both psychedelic journeys and late-night afterhours.

Next up, KVRK delivers a mind-bending techno cut—an intense, pulsating ride that feels like crossing an event horizon. Relentless and otherworldly, it transports listeners into uncharted sonic territory.

On the flip, Spain’s T.S.O channels '90s tech house with a bass-heavy roller full of nostalgic flair and modern groove. It's a confident dancefloor weapon, bridging classic vibes with a contemporary edge.

Closing the release, Jubley shifts into darker territory. With punchy percussion and eerie textures, his track oozes tension and atmosphere. A bold departure from his usual style, it’s a gripping end to a standout first release.

For his last solo record ‘Through a Room’, Bill Nace shifted his usual saturated guitar sound and added tapes, hurdy gurdy, doughnut pipe, bird calls and the mysterious Japanese taishōgoto. Setting up for the final night of his three day residency at OTO with only the taishōgoto soundchecked, Nace hoped that Parker would arrive with his small soprano as its opposite. “I’ve been interested in state change, you know, playing until there’s a shift in time.” Known for his development of multiphonics to produce a constantly shifting pattern, Evan Parker has evolved an instantly recognizable sound - his work the soprano most distinct. Happily, it was the soprano Evan brought with him and as soon as the two start to play they entwine - taking off in a double helix of keys and reed primed for endless reconfiguration. Space warps under the velocity of playing, the pitch rising unrelentingly. It felt like unending lift off in the room, sheer energy until the last note makes remember your feet have been on the floor the whole time. Total time bending shredding.

–

"They had never played together before. They had never even met each other before this springtime 2024 concert at London’s Café Oto.

Evan Parker, circular breathing maestro of the saxophone, a legend in the universe that is Free Improvisation since the late 1960s and Bill Nace, one of the most intriguing experimental “noise” guitarists of the 1990s/2000s underground scene.

For those of us who have been enamored by the live and documented work of both these gents, this Café Oto duo was a must-hear event. It could have gone anywhere musically and that would have been totally fine. Particularly with Evan having a history of being thrown into a variety of challenging collaborations throughout his career, employing the learned elegance of trust in his own sensitivity to listening, responding, leading, following, sparring, intertwining, dialoguing, creating in the instant and, essentially, dignifying the non-hierarchical grace of chance.

The aesthetics of socialist consideration in Evan Parker’s playing, in his community of expanded and personal technique, for a younger player such as Bill Nace, strikes an exemplary model. This notion of respect would be entirely the reason Nace, when offered a residency at the most critical “new music” room in England, would request to play in duo with Parker.

Bill Nace came to prominence mostly during the apex of experimental music activity in and around Western Massachusetts in the early days of the aughts, with a focus on visual art and free improvisation guitar action. He could be found in the daytime hours, his head hanging down over a notepad, penning fine-tuned illustrations and abstract line drawings, while in the evenings he’d be attending any number of basement noise gigs, many of which he’d be participating in. His guitar style came across as being informed as much as by the physicality of his writing utensils in friction to the page as it was to his hearing and redefining of radical recordings ranging anywhere from the Black Unity Group to Black Flag.

Utilizing various metal files and other small cylindrical objects Bill would allow his guitar and amplifier to be in tandem with the improvisatory movements of his body as the instrument balanced, intentionally and, at times, precariously, upon his lap. The performances came across thrilling and daring and they would be mostly in the context of venues nothing more than a low-ceilinged damp and dank New England basement, a clutch of people hanging onto rusty pipes or sitting up on dilapidated washer/dryer machines, the shards of Bill’s “file guitar” sounds ringing out like the most alive music on Earth.

By the time Bill reached Café Oto in early 2024 he had relocated to Philadelphia all the while releasing a succession of collaborative LPs on his Open Mouth label to present his developing progression of solo and collaborative work. He also would find himself considerably engaged with playing the electric taishōgoto, a keyboard-activated string instrument from Japan which can exist as a one, two, four, five, or six string oblong sound object. Bill’s approach to the taishōgoto would not be too unlike his approach to the traditional electric guitar, though no outboard implements such as files, sticks, and rocks are utilized. The similarity would lie wholly with Bill’s full immersion of high velocity action-playing where, with the taishōgoto, an electric drone beauty occurs. The flurry of sonics and resultant harmonics emanating from the amplifier (which Bill opts to dial into with borderline loud-as fuck volume settings) furthers the meta-mantra properties of the instrument in an astounding display of drone dynamism.

This sound world of Bill’s two-stringed taishōgoto on this Café Oto night worked beautifully with Evan Parker’s improvisatory saxophone conceptions. The duology achieved instant lift off at ground zero only to find it’s eventual finale as if it were organically ordained. Time seemingly morphed from its ancient human construct of control, rendered inconsequential to the torrential transcendence of the room wildly activated by the magic resonance of the multi-directional pan-spatial sonance of the music as if it were some beatific blessing. It was one of those nights where art as a liberating force of spirit gifted the listeners with an offering of exaltation and joy. It was entirely mystical and mind blowing. A night of Total Music."

Thurston Moore, London, 2025

2025 REPRESS

A DJ, producer and significant figure in contemporary electronic music, Marcel Dettmann steps forward to contribute to Running Back’s ongoing Mastermix series. Whereas previous editions of Mastermix have taken an ear to the sound of lapsed, legendary clubs such as Wild Pitch and Front, Dettmann’s curation deftly captures the man himself in ongoing perpetual motion, raiding the vault for his own precision-tooled edits, long-employed on dancefloors to devastating effect. Alongside a continuous mix, this release arrives as a 3LP gatefold, and as a limited edition cassette.

Closely associated with Berlin’s techno landscape, Dettmann was born and raised in the former GDR, then later immersed in the bleary-eyed counter cultural landscape of post-unification Berlin. Initially oriented by post-punk, industrial and new-wave music, Dettmann has been DJing since 1993, always expanding and perfecting his repertoire. He later began working behind the counter at the city’s tastemaking rave boutique Hard Wax, and a decade after he first dropped a needle, became (and remains) resident at notable local nightspot Berghain/Panorama Bar, where his instincts have helped sculpt the signature sound of both main dancefloors.

Of course, you’re probably not asking, “Who is Marcel Dettmann?” More importantly, you might want to know; just what treats has he gifted us here? The trip begins with a simple pitch-shift skywards, transforming Identified Patient’s creeping ‘The Female Medical College of Pennsylvania’ into a peak-time freakout, before an alternate take on Toctronic’s ‘Bis uns das Licht vertreibt’ emerges from the vaults for the first time. Dating from 1995, and one of Dettmann’s all-time favourites, Cristian Vogel’s ‘Untitled’ clambers back into the box with respectable cuts, while John Bender’s ‘Victims of A Victimless Crime’ kicks off the flip sporting a new arrangement, transporting us back to the foundations of a confident, stripped-back sound.

A few subtle edits to Clark’s perilously funky ‘Dirty Pixie’ takes us to Dettmann’s remix of Junior Boys. Produced in 2010, it transposes the Canadian duo’s sophisticated pop with our curator in his minimal prime, and has since become an irresistible prize for high-minded diggers. The same can be said for Experimental Products’ explosive proto-electro anthem ‘Who Is Kip Jones?’, empowered from pricey Discogs purgatory with just the slightest of tweaks. It’s deservedly sandwiched between the guiding influences of Chicago and Detroit in the form of Mutant Beat Dance’s raw ‘The Human Factor’ and a shimmering new version of previous solo production ‘Water’, featuring close friend and Ostgut Ton ally, Ryan Elliot.

The second half of the Mastermix seamlessly connects the mechanical past and digital present of EBM and industrial in the dance, with Dettmann’s instincts as a guiding hand. Severed Heads’ iconic ‘We Have Come To Bless This House’ emerges with mere nips and tucks, while Nitzer Ebb’s ‘Shame’ is significantly reimagined as a highwire act of rhythm and tension, setting up a sensual second take on a 2017 remix of ‘Limbo’ from Swiss synth heroes, Yello.

Core musical memories are shaken and stirred with a context-shifting take on Frank Duval’s emotional classic ‘Ogon’, while Ian North’s ‘Sex Lust You’ and Ford Proco’s notable Coil collaboration ‘Expansion Naranja’ effectively throb with only minor adjustments, respectfully imagined as “shadow versions”. Meanwhile, a simple breakbeat lifts Albert Kuningas’s ‘Astraalprojektio’ in the direction of wide-eyed dancefloors, while a fresh take on K-Alexi Shelby’s ‘Season of The Real’ inexplicably emerges somehow even funkier than before.

The conclusion of the compilation leads back to Das Tier from the prolific experimentalist Conrad Schnitzler, whose swirling synths and hypnotic vocals are duly tightened by Dettmann, but only as he puts it, “in conversation with the original.” Concluding three discs and thirty years of commitment to the dancefloor, this Mastermix not only offers us the opportunity to eavesdrop on this endless exchange, but to gain some sought-after material for our own record collections.

Akhira Sano is a Tokyo-based artist working across sound, drawing, installation, and video. His practice finds generative potential for music in life's fleeting incidents, etching meaning from unassuming spaces and resonances. With releases on 12k, LAAPS, IIKKI, and The Trilogy Tapes, Sano has steadily carved out a distinctive voice within minimal and experimental music - one that privileges attentiveness and patience over spectacle.

"To Material Past", Sano's debut for SWIMS, carries this thread with a single 30-minute work built solely using glockenspiel tones and field recordings from his local neighbourhood. This is a night walk with no map or end point; Sano follows irregular, coiling fragments that extend to form a tessellating luminous whole - like a subliminal mass of tree roots quietly shifting the concrete slabs beneath our feet.

Under this faded gauze of gestures and interactions, Sano's glockenspiel interjects like a grandfather clock, softly marking the partitions that make up a day's collected experience; clicking and chiming like the sleeping brain, as it sifts and catalogues a lifetime's ephemera of thoughts, faces and puzzles.

Denmarks leading outlet for fresh, forward forward-thinking jazz, April Records, proudly presents the debut release from award award-winning Danish vibraphonist Viktoria Sondergaard. With wide ranging influences from jazz, chamber music, cabaret, pop, rap and SukumaSukuma-inspired grooves, as well as the hymns and melodies of the Danish Hojskolesangbog traditional/folk songbook, the music is grounded in collective expression and responsibility. The album s bold, boundary boundary-pushing sound was built on a strong sense of musical community, as well as Sondergaard s desire to integrate spoken word and lyrics into her practice to convey her thoughts and feelings on the world around her on a deeper, more personal level. Composing with her four collaborators in mind, Viktoria imagined her quintet playing each note as she composed, making the music inseparable from their presence. The album integrates spoken word, rap, singing, screaming, and whispering - a shared sonic tapestry that expresses joy, wonder, questioning and celebration. It s a band built on inspiration, joy, dreams and love, Viktoria says. For me, one of the most beautiful things in art is that we have a platform to say something about the society and world around us. This album is an attempt to do just this. this." Balancing warmth and intimacy with tension and exploration, the music weaves rich instrumental textures and spacious soundscapes with intricate vocal arrangements - intertwining voices that move between comforting folk folk-like harmonies and angular, avant avant-garde expression. The quartet s deep listening and intuitive interplay are evident throughout, shifting fluidly from open, exploratory passages to tightly locked grooves. The result is a sound that feels both grounded and searching: a sonic conversation inviting the listener into a space of vulnerability, curiosity, and connection. With a sparkling tone, emotive improvisation and refined control over her instrument Viktoria is recognised as a fearless explorer and bold musical voice. A recipient of the Aarhus Jazz Talent Prize, Tivoli Jazz Prize and the 2025 Carl Prize Honorary Award presented by Marilyn Mazur, she balances adventurous writing and collective invention with melodic immediacy and emotional power.

Tensal is the solo project of Héctor Sandoval, also known as half of Exium and Komatssu. Since its creation in 2014,
Tensal has become the channel for his most personal vision of Techno, blending diverse rhythms and textures with a
powerful and distinctive identity. Alongside his own imprint Tensal Ltd, he has released on some of the scene’s most influential labels, including Mord, Modularz, Perc Trax, Blueprint, Arcing Seas, PoleGroup, Float, Kynant, KR3, A.R.T.S,
Warm Up and Soma, where he delivered his first LP in 2018.

He has remixed artists such as Slam, Electric Indigo, Anthony Linell, Mike Parker, Shed, Pangaea and Shifted, while his
tracks are championed by leading DJs like Jeff Mills, Richie Hawtin, Marcel Dettmann, Ben Klock, Ellen Allien, Laurent Garnier and DVS1. His DJ sets, built largely from his own productions, have taken him to more than 60 countries
worldwide, with performances at iconic clubs and festivals including Berghain, Tresor, Awakenings and Fabrik.

Beyond Tensal, Sandoval explores different frontiers of electronic music: with Juan Rico (Reeko) he formed Komando Terrorismo Sonico (K.T.S.), releasing the album Insurrección in 2021; in 2022 he launched Syndromania on Oaks
Records, a vinyl-only project fusing Techno with Trance, EBM, Electro and Acid. In 2023 he joined BPitch Control,
releasing several EPs and performing at the label’s We Are Not Alone events, while in late 2024 he debuted on Blueprint
Records with Highland Landscapes, a collaboration with Vince Watson (Amorphic), followed by a joint EP on Mord in
2025.

After five years of activity, Orion Records is proud to present its first various artists release. “Horizon Begins” is a collection of tracks from artists connected to the Orion universe, encountered in clubs and festivals over recent years. The compilation aims to tell a complete story through its tracklist, moving from ambient to deeper shades of techno, with interludes of classic club sounds. An unknown project opens the record with an intro that sets the overall mood of the release, before giving way to deep and rhythmic moments by artists such as Martinou and Ateq & Orion. Skyra from Tbilisi closes side B with the unmistakable sound of Georgia. The second part of the release shifts towards a darker, more hypnotic direction with two key figures of the Swiss scene, Ben Kaczor and Lb Honne. The final chapter of this story is entrusted to Hame and Soela, a perfect soundtrack to close in a special way.

Clear Vinyl. Mit ihrem Debüt The Empty Space Between A Seamount And Shock Headed Julia hinterließen The Black Cat's Eye 2023 ein bemerkenswertes Echo in der Szene - ein energetisches und atmosphärisches Werk, das Psychedelic- und Postrock-Elemente auf einzigartige Weise vereinte und schnell vergriffen war. Nun, zweieinhalb Jahre später, präsentiert das Frankfurter Quintett sein neues Album Decrypting Dreams Of Weird Animals And Strange Objects. Auch diesmal lotet die Band die Grenzbereiche zwischen Psychedelic-, Kraut- und Post-Rock aus. Die Musik oszilliert zwischen hypnotischem Drive, verträumten Gitarrenflächen und dynamischen Spannungsbögen. Das Album umfasst sechs Songs, deren Spannweite von fünf- bis zehnminütigen Klangreisen reicht. Neu ist, dass diesmal zwei Bandmitglieder Kompositionen beisteuerten: Neben Gitarrist und Bandgründer Christian Blaser stammt die Hälfte des Materials von Bassist Jens Cappel. Sein kraftvoller, direkter Stil ergänzt Blasers atmosphärischen Ansatz ideal. Blaser: ,Auf dem Debütalbum stammten alle Stücke von mir. Als Gründer der Band lag mein Fokus zunächst darauf, eine musikalische Vision und Richtung vorzugeben. Jens war zu diesem Zeitpunkt noch nicht so in die kreativen Prozesse eingebunden, obwohl er ein außerordentlich talentierter und umtriebiger Musiker ist. Er veröffentlicht regelmäßig großartige neue Musik auf den Bandcamp-Seiten seiner eigenen Projekte, zum Beispiel The Black Black Paint. Als es dann an das Schreiben neuer Songs für das zweite Album ging, brachte Jens einige wirklich tolle Demos mit ein." Stilistisch verbindet das Album, wie schon der Vorgänger, klassische 70er-Einflüsse mit zeitgenössischer Rockmusik - man hört Anklänge an Can, Motorpsycho, Neu!, Indie- und Stonerrock, aber auch an David Gilmours Gitarrenästhetik. Die Musik ist instrumental, einzig im finalen Stück ,The Magic Balloon" übernimmt Jens Cappel den Gesang. Ähnlich rätselhaft wie bei der ersten Platte klingt der Albumtitel: Decrypting Dreams Of Weird Animals And Strange Objects. Blaser erklärt: ,Der Titel ist inspiriert von einem faszinierenden Aspekt der US-amerikanischen TV-Serie Westworld. Dort werden humanoiden Robotern Gefühle und Träume einprogrammiert. Doch weil diese Androiden dadurch immer menschlicher werden, geraten sie außer Kontrolle - die Programmierer suchen daraufhin den Fehler in den von ihnen geschriebenen Quellcodes, analysieren die künstlichen Gefühle, Gedanken und Träume mithilfe ihrer Computerprogramme. Übertragen auf unsere Realität ist der Titel durchaus ironisch gemeint. Unsere moderne Technik vermittelt den Eindruck, wir könnten jeden Bereich unseres Lebens vollständig steuern. Selbstoptimierung und die Kapitalisierung des eigenen Ichs werden zum obersten Prinzip. Eine trügerische Illusion, denn wir sind nur winzige Teile eines größeren, für uns unergründlichen Ganzen. Vor diesem Hintergrund stellt sich die Frage: Was kann Kunst zu unserer Wahrnehmung der Welt beitragen? Welche Bedeutung hat es, sich mit musikalischen Mitteln auszudrücken? Durch Technik, Mathematik, Physik und reine Vernunft kommen wir dem Wunder des Lebens und dem Sinn unserer Existenz nicht wirklich näher. Was uns bleibt, ist das Ritual, die Beschwörung, die Ekstase. Musik, Tanz, Malerei, Geschichten - sie offenbaren für kurze Momente den wahren Kern des Lebens, richten unser Verhältnis dazu neu aus und verbinden uns mit dem Universum." Aufgenommen hat die Band wieder im Tonstudio Bieber in Offenbach am Main. Oli Rüger, Studiobetreiber und selbst Musiker, hat langjährige Erfahrung mit dem Aufnehmen von Gitarrenbands. Innerhalb von drei Tagen spielte die Band die Basic Tracks live ein, anschließend ergänzten sie diese durch Overdubs. Rüger war auch als Co-Produzent beteiligt. Cappel: ,Oli hat das richtige Händchen für die perfekte Balance zwischen rohen, heftigen und filigranen Sounds, ohne gleichzeitig den Blick für das große Ganze zu verlieren." Das Werk wurde final von Krautrock-Legende Eroc gemastert - eine passende Wahl für eine Band, die sich nicht nur als Erben der 70er sieht, sondern diese Tradition aktiv in die Gegenwart weiterdenkt. Das monochrome Cover-Artwork unterstreicht eindrucksvoll die dunkle Atmosphäre der Musik. Es verdeutlicht den konzeptionellen Ansatz der Band, Musik nicht nur als Klang, sondern als Raum, Konzept und visionäre Erzählform zu begreifen. Das Titelbild - eine scheinbar endlose Spirale, Symbol für DNA-Strukturen und Ewigkeit - wurde vom italienischen Grafiker Daniele Stochino entworfen. Die Innenseite des Gatefolds verbindet dieses Motiv mit einer Illustration des in Berlin lebenden Grafikers und Musikers Max Emil Hurlebaus. Durch farbige Akzente eröffnet sie kontrastreich neue Perspektiven.