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Athens-based percussionist and sound artist Yorgos Stavridis makes a stark, physical debut for Heat Crimes with »Solo Percussion«, a set of one-take improvisations that approach percussion as a field of friction between body, objects, space, and sound. Working with membranes, metals, found objects, and feedback systems, Stavridis foregrounds timbre, texture, and spatial presence, collapsing distinctions between instrument, environment, and recording apparatus.

Microphones and speakers are treated as unstable instruments in their own right, introducing opaqueness, resistance, and feedback into the performative chain. Scrapes, low-end pressure, brittle metallic chatter, and sudden bursts of resonance emerge through close bodily engagement with surfaces and materials, each piece documenting a specific configuration of objects, gestures, and acoustic conditions. Performed and recorded live, »Solo Percussion« captures sound in its most contingent state; situational, physical, and irreducibly present. Eschewing narrative, pulse, or formal development, the record sits squarely in Heat Crimes’ lineage of process-led, uncompromising sonic research, where listening becomes an active, tactile act and sound itself is the primary event.

Melbourne / Naarm stronghold Butter Sessionsclock 15 years in the game with a trilogy of 12"s, sustaining their uncompromising streak of peak-form electronics. The family-style V/A binds friends, collaborators, former studio neighbours and DJ booth allies, capturing a label that exists as community as much as catalogue.

Disc Two lifts off with recurring contributor Rory McPike's first label outing as Rings Around Saturn, a blissed-out cosmic floater skimming the periphery. Booked in the early days of the label's formative Mania residency, Japanese don Gonno twists freestyle, techno and breaks into pure ecstasy, before the unerringly bold Jennifer Loveless spikes the punch with a hallucinatory mix of drums, disembodied voice and jazz club keys.

On the flip, Boorloo's Guy Contact rolls out Dance In The Grey, a shadowy prog churn pitched between new-romantic vocal sheen and EBM muscle, with Kate Miller completely rewiring the script on Sub Series E - a masterfully minimal, double-time meditation. suki presents his Sniper1 alias to close with a demonic body-jacking groove loaded for the system.

Whether taken alone or folded into the three-disc triptych, each instalment stands as a bag-ready constant, charged with Butter Sessions' curatorial finesse.

Having established himself as one of the most exciting contemporary dance producers with a string of stellar releases, Japanese producer boys be kko returns triumphantly with the Nagasawa EP, four floor cuts bursting with emotion, shimmering in Tokyo technicolor, and perfectly at home on Bliss Point.

Nagasawa kicks off with a bang. “ChuKii” is a peak time heater: breaks, chopped vocals and punchy toms sear over a low end groove that proves body music can funk. Melodic acid explodes like a firework mid-track, taking the dance floor to psychedelic new heights.

The club psychedelia continues with “Mold Mold”, a minimal, subterranean system roller adorned with swells, bells, and deep, guttural growls dubbed to the vanishing point.

“Sant Esteve (kko Edit)” is melancholic and contemplative jazz house, eschewing cliché and twinging with nostalgia for that moment you felt most free.

“Humor is an important part of my music”, boys be kko reflected over lunch as Izakaya smoke billowed past his face. “Oignon”, the fourth and final track on Nagasawa, is an airy and joyful slice of sampledelia that makes good on this promise. An enormous smile of a track sending listeners off with a slice of sonic sunshine and, dare we say, hope.

Reissue of the 3rd full length by Thomas Bücker aka Bersarin Quartett.

Melancholia. Longing. It is difficult to speak about these moods or states of the mind without invoking stereotypes. In ancient medicine, melancholia was considered to be one of the four temperaments, matching the four humours. In fact, melancholia, meaning "black bile" in Ancient Greek, was thought to be caused by an excess of this very body substance. By contrast, in more modern interpretations, literates and Freudians relate many variations of longing to the one primordial longing, the desire to return to one's mother's womb. In this context, the womb is considered to be the place of absolute comfort and cosiness, of total bliss. Thus it should not be surprising that to many of us melancholia is a mood which we like to invoke and to maintain, we like to envelop ourselves in it like in a warm blanket. Our brain and our sensory systems appear to be made for perceiving and emotionally responding to music in a very immediate fashion. Consequently music is the obvious drug for all of us melancholia-addicts. However, there is a thin line between melancholia and sadness, and music which is meant to be melancholic too often crosses this line by far. Only very few artists succeed in avoiding this crossing, and in creating music which is melancholia in its most pure form. It is safe to say that BERSARIN QUARTETT - the electronic music project of Thomas Bücker - is one of them.

After his debut in 2008 and the sophomore "II" in 2012 - album of the month in many magazines and in numerous "Best of the year" lists - Bücker in 2015 returned with his third BERSARIN QUARTETT album "III". Much like his two predecessors, III is a pure paradox. It is the creation of a perfectionist, an adamant control freak. Every element, be it a note, an ambience layer, a string arrangement, a field recording, a baseline, a vocal (Clara Hill on Track 11) or a beat, is meticulously modified and then assigned its place in Bücker's vast but still minimalistic arrangements. Thus, superficially Bücker's pieces seem to radiate a certain mechanical bleakness. However, there is a unique reduced warmth and liveliness emerging from these stainless compositions and transcending them. This transcendence is precisely the point where Bücker ironically looses control over his creations. In contrast to the first two BERSARIN QUARTETT albums, III offers a few darker shades and succeeds even further in narrowing down the arrangements to the absolute essentials without loosing the characteristic grandeur of Bücker's sound. Whereas BERSARIN QUARTETT's debut was merely a description of melancholia in its most pure form, III maybe even goes as far a defining what melancholia really is. It is the only emotion in the vast spectrum of human states of mind which one can bear forever.

Concrete Noir is the latest project from multimedia artist and sound designer Piero Fragola, known for genre-defying ventures like We Love (BPitch Control) and ANGLE (Tiptop Audio Records). With this project, he explores a hybrid space where electronics, voice and image merge into an introspective and shadowy form. The debut album, Romance Ruins, is the first release on the newly founded Frequens Records.

Composed entirely using Tiptop Audio’s ART modular system, it unfolds as a series of layered, emotionally charged compositions. These are structured songs with a physical low-end impact.

Musically, Romance Ruins moves beyond genre boundaries to inhabit a space shaped by contrast and collision. The result is a form of modern hybridization—melancholic yet forceful, intimate yet expansive. The sonic identity is carefully constructed but deliberately raw, emphasizing emotion over precision.

The title itself captures the core of this paradox. Romanticism, in its intensity, may ultimately destroy. And yet, from that destruction, something vital emerges. The album embraces the figure of a decadent hero—a child of broken ideals who reclaims beauty from collapse. It’s a romantic vindication of decadence, a belief that clarity can rise from ruin, and meaning from fragmentation.

Moving through a broad range of tempos, the tracks explore murky, melancholic, tactile and cinematic moods. Synths intertwine with guitars (Fender and Gretsch Dobro). All vocals are performed by Piero Fragola, except on Faraway Places, where his voice is joined by that of Viktoria Lishkee—the album’s only guest appearance.Nearly every track is paired with a video, expanding the work’s audiovisual dimension. As a designer for Tiptop Audio and instructor at IED and LABA in Florence, Fragola brings a multi-sensory vision to Concrete Noir—one where medium and message, form and feeling, are inseparable. With Romance Ruins, he delivers an artistic statement. A body of work that resists categorization and embraces the beauty of decay.

Romance Ruins marks the beginning of Frequens Records. Available in a 180-gram vinyl edition.

Acclaimed electronic musicians, producers and sound architects Max Cooper and Rob Clouth team up for a new collaborative EP; a dark, playful four-track dive into ambient, breakbeat and techno’s subconscious flow, featuring a standout vocal performance from South London rapper FLOHIO.

Recorded over a series of spontaneous London sessions, “8 Billion Realities” channels years of creative exchange between two of the genre’s most quietly innovative artists and is a result of a decision between the longtime friends to refrain from conceptual overthinking in favour of instinct and joy.

As long-time admirers of each other’s audio/visual work, Cooper and Clouth collaborated in London together after both emerging from intense, idea-heavy album cycles. What followed was a series of exploratory sessions, half-improvised, half-built around half-formed thoughts.

The result is a club-ready EP that feels alive and human: imperfect and hypnotically rich.

“Rob Clouth has been one of my favourite electronic music producers since I first heard his work in 2011,” says Cooper. “His work is more full of ideas and structure than anyone else.” “We were both coming from extensive conceptual studio albums and both in the mood for simplifying things and having some fun with the music, so that’s what we did”.

For Clouth, no stranger to Max Coopers Mesh label having previously released an array of EP’s plus his 2020 debut album “Zero Point” this record marks a new chapter, both creatively and personally.“Something pretty new for me is collaborating,” he says. “You kind of have to when to stop, because if you develop an idea all the way to its endpoint, the other person has nowhere to jump in.”

The first “A Moment Set Aside” began as a break from another idea, a live, unplanned improvisation based around arps and ambience. “The track was written in about as long as it took to play it,” says Cooper. “It was pulled from a 1 hour recording session, more or less as you hear it… the energy and excitement grew as the unplanned moment bore some magic.”

“The lesson being that sometimes it’s helpful to set aside a moment without forcing results, and let the subconscious have something to say.” What followed was darker, heavier. “Asymptote” is detuned techno. Subversive and euphoric in its descent. “We found a sort of brain mangling, half consonant, half wandering detuned techno pulse, which we started chatting about being a sort of pit of spiralling body parts we were falling into,” says Cooper. “It was a lot of fun to work on and let loose with bigger kicks than I usually ever get to unleash.”

Then came “8 Billion Realities”, featuring a standout rap performance from FLOHIO; an emerging figure in the UK grime and rap scene. The track was inspired by conversations about algorithmic echo chambers and hyper-personalised online worlds. Frantic, direct, and South London to the core, FLOHIO brings this tension to life. Her sharp, intense flow cuts through distortion and rhythm, landing the track somewhere between chaos and control instantly making it one of the most striking moments in either artist’s catalogue. “A different reality for all 8 billion of us,” says Cooper. “We weren’t sure if it would work… but there was something about the energy of the percussive idea and the story which felt like it might fit.” “Then FLOHIO had a play with it and straight off the bat absolutely killed it, not just with the lyrics and energy, but the harmonising too, it was a beautiful process.”

The final piece on the EP “Candeleda” originated from Clouth’s solo experiments with a live rig made entirely of vocals and keys, using his self-developed “cheatbox” system. “He put forward a beautiful stumbling melodic sequence which we bounced back and forth adding harmonies and synth layers,” says Cooper. “It rounds off a collection covering some of the breadth of music that we both love.”

This is the story of an artist in search of sound and breath: an artist who dares to question the rhythm of silence—an invitation to rethink music, sound, and musical collaboration. This is the story of a journey that, after opening countless paths, has finally found its vessel—and its messengers. Three artists of profound musical truth and radical freedom, merging into an exceptional trio that crosses genres and transcends words in a journey toward pure emotion.

Le Rythme du Silence is the culmination of this long search. Yom delivers it here with violinist Théo Ceccaldi and cellist Valentin Ceccaldi—kindred spirits in sound. “I’ve been working on this idea of the ‘rhythm of silence’ for years,” Yom explains. “I first heard the phrase from a Sufi master, describing the foundation of meditation. It struck something deep in me. I’ve practiced meditation for a long time, and we often think of it as a kind of stillness—opposed to noise and life. But in truth, the rhythm of silence enables meditation. It means accepting that the world continues to move and live around you, even as you try to be still. I wanted to compose from that place. To imagine sound as vibratory matter—the primal substance of creation. That required letting go of fixed structures: forgetting melodies, abandoning the idea of a constructed solo. I needed to leave behind music as a system, and touch sound as a living, breathing entity. It took years. Many projects led me elsewhere. But with the Ceccaldi brothers, I finally found the right resonance. Working with them was simply obvious—it was indredibly powerful.”

Yom first rose to prominence reimagining Jewish traditional music with his 2008 debut New King of Klezmer Clarinet. Since then, his path has led through rock (With Love, 2011; You Will Never Die, 2018), electronic utopias (The Empire of Love, 2013), meditative and sacred soundscapes (Prière, 2018), and countless unclassifiable hybrids (Unue, 2009; Green Apocalypse, 2010). It was inevitable that he would eventually cross paths with the free-spirited Théo and Valentin Ceccaldi—two artists who also place collaboration and genre-blurring at the heart of their artistic development. Their projects are always bold, demanding, and full of life (Kutu, Tricollectif, ONJ, Velvet Revolution, Grand Orchestre du Tricot, Lagon Noir, Constantine, etc.). And so, when the three met within the iXi string quartet, something clicked.
“I was seated between the two of them in the quartet,” Yom recalls, “and I could feel their energy flowing from both sides—it was wild! They’re so tuned into each other, they don’t need words. It’s like they’re connected by musical Wi-Fi. The groove happens instantly. They’re precise when they want to be—thanks to their experience in pop-influenced projects —but they can also let go completely, diving into pure sound. That’s exactly what this project needed.”

Without a single rehearsal, the trio formed instinctively. They began performing Yom’s compositions live, unfolding them into a single continuous piece, where clarinet and strings stretch the limits of sound and breath.
Bowed, plucked, or prepared with clothespins, the Ceccaldi strings engage in a playful and intense dialogue with Yom’s custom B-flat clarinet. Through their imaginative listening and fearless invention, air and space open into a vast new soundscape—one that lies somewhere between meditation and healing music.

“When Yom shared the concept of the rhythm of silence, we were immediately drawn in,” says cellist Valentin Ceccaldi. “There’s a deep intensity and spiritual commitment in his music that really spoke to me. With this trio, we’re trying to dive into the core of sound—but also to create a kind of communion with the audience. It’s like gradually turning up the volume on silence, and realizing it’s made of countless tiny sounds—the music of particles in motion" This stripped-down intensity demands full presence—body and mind—of these three musicians, vibrationally connected in a state close to trance. With them, we enter a journey - not religious, but sacred nonetheless.
The Rhythm of Silence becomes an echo of our most intimate, most distant inner landscapes.
An album—and a trio—to return to without end.

After his 2024 album The Spirit Continues, Tilman returns with Altered Spaces, a tightly focused four-track EP that distills his signature sound into a concise, club-ready format.

Opening track Make My Body Move sets the tone with soulful vocals, warm piano stabs, a rolling bassline and a breezy Balearic vibe. The Last Resort deepens the mood, layering pads, organ hits and shimmering strings over a steady, driving groove. Rounding out the EP are two reimagined cuts from The Spirit Continues. Dance Department (Spirit Mix) smooths out the rougher edges of the original, adding organ stabs and a more melodic sensibility.

Need It (Dance Dub) transforms the track into a softer, dub-tinged version - hypnotic, restrained and full of subtle movement. Altered Spaces is classic Tilman: warm, understated house music that's rich in detail and groove - made for dancers and deep listeners alike.

"Eight tracks of jagged electronics, heavy basslines, and fractured spoken word collide in a body-jerking soundclash that is both raw and vital."
Good On Paper enjoyed "Baldauf’s crisp, distanced tones accompanied by Roe’s ominous, pulsating programmed bass line and four-to-the-floor whack, coaxing pure pop out of tension and incongruity." Electronic Sound Magazine hailed the LP as "a blistering, club-forward workout", with "top-drawer, nose-bloodying electronics,’" positioning the Stroud duo as "rather like a wonky Tom Tom Club with added grit."

Shining lights in London’s queer electronic underground, prolific duo FAFF make their debut on Phantasy with the ‘A Few Good Days’ EP, featuring three tracks reverberating the smudged euphoria of the capital’s rave scene, both past and present. Drawing equally on peak-time club catharsis and the emotive experimentation of golden-era IDM and electro, these recordings meld the pair’s diverse DJ sets and ambient live work, which has captivated festivals including Draimollen, Field Maneuvers, and Body Movements.

The title track, ‘A Few Good Days, ’ melds hypnotic percussion, snatches of vocal euphoria, and a stuttering break for instant post-rave afterglow. Its wandering but compelling arrangement subtly invokes and updates the pioneering aesthetic of One Dove, Sabres of Paradise, or even William Orbit. The tempo tilts skywards for ‘Tracy’s Night Out’, a peak-time display of FAFF’s studio prowess that fuses choral techno drama with a shamelessly bouncing bassline designed to tear up any respectable sound system. Emerging from the sweat and strobes for a wide-eyed stroll home, ‘Tracy’s Daydream’ wishes away the EP with delicate, textural delight, floating gently on pure analogue reverie.

Animistic Resonance marks a new stage for artist and electronic musician Leslie García, as it is her first album under her own name, following several releases as Microhm and her parallel work as founder of the contemporary art studio Interspecifics, where she has developed an extensive body of sonic projects presented in major museums and programs around the world. The album is the culmination of a profound and extended exploration of sound as language. It is also a statement against the classicism of long-form ambient pieces. Narratively, each track is conceived as a finely detailed work that functions as a condensed temporal fragment, each with its own individuality while simultaneously forming part of a broader universe.

The compositional language of the album draws on minimalist structures, deep listening strategies, and experimental approaches to electronic sound. Each track offers a meditation on repetition, density, and micro-variation, unfolding like a sonic landscape shaped by temporal tension and perceptual ambiguity. Animistic Resonance resists categorization, situating itself between ambient, noise, and abstract rhythm, while grounding its aesthetic in a Latin American sensibility that embraces technological poetics, affective depth, and critical imagination.

The album invites listeners to move beyond the surface and inhabit a world of vibrational and animistic temporalities. It offers a refuge in sound, a suspended space where calm can emerge. In the midst of contemporary turbulence, Animistic Resonance opens the door to imagining new ways of listening and feeling, demanding an embodied and visceral form of engagement.

Composition sound synthesis and programming by Leslie García. Composed between 2022—2024 in Mexico City.
Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY. Artwork by Daniel Castrejón.

Nu-hardcore quintet, Bodyweb, are the sound of someone’s nervous system on the verge of breakdown—hyperactive, tormented and unflinchingly vulnerable. Born out of the Leeds hardcore scene, they’re a shape-shifting alloy of jagged emotion and precision chaos. What began as late-night jams between Louis Hardy (Higher Power, Big Cheese, Fate) and Ben Jones (Pest Control) eventually mutated into train_wreck_simulation, a debut EP filled with frantic breakdowns and nu-metal swag that felt like the soundtrack to a digital exorcism. The final piece of the puzzle came from Hardy’s estranged childhood friend, pq. His twisted samples and synthetic textures are haunted and disturbed, injecting cyberpunk soul into hardcore flesh. Contorting through several iterations in the following years, the band absorbed Luke Thompson (Stiff Meds) on drums, filmmaker Tom Hobson on guitar and Naomi Macleod (Empire State Bastard) on bass, and laid down their first collective offering. deadwired is due out on Flatspot Records later this year. Bodyweb's second EP is a violent thesis on connection and pain that sends Hardy’s unfiltered vocals through heaven and hell. Four overstimulating tracks run a gamut of styles and influences from Slipknot to Björk, constantly lane-switching between dizzying heaviness, ambient soundscapes and brain-burrowing hooks. Entirely self-produced, deadwired upgrades the sonic formula laid down on the last record and raises the question: what else could exist in Bodyweb’s twisted roadmap? Nothing seems impossible. What seems important, however, is retaining the rawness in a style that can often turn sterile. “We still wanted it to sound very human. It had to be well produced but not cold and lifeless.” shares Hardy. “We didn’t use a click track. All guitars were real amps with microphones. We tried to make everything as real and raw as possible, we recorded using all the same gear we use when playing live too to really capture the energy of how it feels when we jam together." ‘Deadwired’ is a snapshot of violent implosion. Four ADHD-fuelled transmissions from the edge of spiritual collapse. It drags metallic hardcore through glitched-out ambience to confront ego death, generational trauma, and the violence of being alive. On stage, Bodyweb don’t just perform, they purge. Raucous live electronics meld with digitally contorted guitars. Breakbeats meet breakdowns—no backing track in sight. Bodyweb enable a collective catharsis. Mosh, dance, dive, scream, heal. A physical therapy session screamed into the void.

Pickle Darling has always existed just outside of the periphery. In a heightened time of fast music, algorithmic consumption and rapid virality, Lukas Mayo (they/them) has remained focused on the album. Their discography is a reflection of their creative evolution, and they deliberately look for ways to push sonic boundaries from release to release. Since debuting with Bigness in 2019 followed by Cosmonaut in 2021, Mayo has curated a catalog that is deeply personal and strangely tactile, where tiny, unexpected details_an off-kilter loop, a whispered aside, the warmth of an old Casio_become as crucial as melody itself. Their 2023 LP Laundromat was a precise and polished expansion of that world, a record that felt like it had been carefully placed behind glass. Their forthcoming fourth album, Battlebots, by contrast, is unruly and full of static: a collection of songs that feel like they could only ever exist on scratched CD-Rs passed between friends. Self-recorded in their home studio in Christchurch, New Zealand, it finds Mayo taking a scalpel to their own songwriting. Songs were stretched, chopped, reversed. Some ideas started as "unlistenable garbage" before morphing into something unexpectedly beautiful. If a song felt too straightforward, Mayo had to mess it up. That friction of old and new, organic and digital, melody and noise is what drives Battlebots. Drawing inspiration from a strange, scattered lineage: Four Tet's Rounds, The Books, Neneh Cherry's Broken Politics, The Wrens' Three types of reading ambiguity, but also the emotional directness of 2000s pop like Madonna's Ray of Light and Robyn's Body Talk, the result is an album that feels like a glitch in the system, pushing against past constraints while embracing the weird, beautiful mess of making something new.

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.



Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.



Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”



But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.



The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.



“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.



Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.



Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Following his 2019 debut on the label with Amphibious / Lucid Dreams, Bristol-based producer Drone returns to System Music for another exploration into the darker corners of sonic frequencies and low end pressure.

Entitled Flooded EP, this is Drone’s biggest project to date and features 4 original, epic tracks accompanied by an incredible remix from SP:MC. The EP kicks off with 20k, an introduction laden with off-kilter, haunting eeriness and pulsating bass and percussion. Next up is Entropy, a truly ethereal track. Spatially beautiful yet isolating and cold. The title track, Flooded, is a monster of a track which intimidates and excites with eyes down and gun fingers raised. Rounding off the body of work is Fear which hits hard with crisp drum patterns and a throbbing bassline, almost evoking a sense of nostalgia, tying it in seamlessly with a typically electrifying remix from SP:MC

Depth.Request proudly announces the debut full-length album from French electronic artist Pierre Berge-Cia - a culmination of two years of dedicated experimentation and creative exploration. This inaugural LP represents a significant milestone in Pierre Berge-Cia's musical journey, showcasing his innovative approach to electronic music.

Crafted through experimental processes and delving into themes of tension, control, and movement, "If You Do, Then When?" unfolds as a visceral journey through the complexities of bodily and sensory experience. Each track is designed to reflect the human body in all its shapes and forms, using innovative sounds and structures to evoke physicality and movement, and aiming to resonate with listeners on a deeply corporeal level.

The album was produced using a combination of the Elektron Digitone synth, a Mackie CR1604 mixer, a Shure SM57 microphone, and a limited selection of digital plugins to maintain sonic consistency. Mastering was handled by Pierre's close friend, Stefan Brown - also known as "Lesser Of". His expertise as a top-tier sound engineer at Abbey Road Studios helped shape the LP's pristine and powerful sound identity. Additionally, the tracks were tested and refined using some of the electronic scene's most beloved sound systems, ensuring an impactful club experience.

The album's artwork, created by Pierre Berge-Cia himself, is a reinterpretation of one of his favorite art performances: "Rest Energy" by Marina Abramovic and Ulay. The tension of the drawn bow and the close-up framing of the subject evoke a palpable sense of danger and emotional intensity, mirroring the physical and psychological strains within human connection. Pierre used his own hands as the model, infusing the artwork with a deeply personal and intimate touch that amplifies the psychic gravity and thematic cohesion of the album.

Pierre Berge-Cia's debut LP is a multi-sensory experience that challenges listeners to feel sound in its most physical and affective form.

Introducing 'Higher' - the first release in a powerful new series from the Higher label.
This heavyweight track is a collaboration between renowned producer Bukkha and soulful vocalist Ites Vibration. It features the rich brass of King David Horns, deep-rooted percussion from Don Fe, and an analogue mix from Mysticwood.

The Higher series proudly delivers bass-heavy, rootikal music built to resonate through sound systems - music that moves the body and speaks to the heart, mind, and soul. Each release honours the foundations of traditional roots while pushing spiritual and sonic boundaries.

'Higher' calls us back to our natural state-a reconnection with the earth and surrender to the universe's rhythm. With its mystical melodies, swinging groove, and deep flow, this track invites listeners into a space of elevation and meditation.

Deerhoof haben sich schon vor langer Zeit als eine der großartigsten Rockgruppen des Planeten etabliert - wer das für übertrieben hält, hat noch nicht genug Zeit damit verbracht, Deerhoof zu hören - das wahnsinnig erfinderische Quartett behandelt jedes seiner neuen Alben als eine Gelegenheit zur kreativen Wiedergeburt. Und doch sind sie irgendwie auch zutiefst zuverlässig, eine seltsame, aber wahre Beschreibung für eine Band, die so kreativ rastlos ist. Man weiß nie, wie ein neues Deerhoof-Album klingen wird, außer dass es immer nach Deerhoof klingen wird. Die Band wird durch solche Paradoxien definiert, wie "Noble and Godlike in Ruin" erneut bestätigt. Ihr neuestes Album ist entweder ein Porträt einer Welt, die in monströsen Hass, Entmenschlichung und Dollarzeichen abgleitet, oder ein eindringliches Selbstporträt der Band als Monster: ein intelligentes, sensibles, hybrides Wesen, das unermüdlich von Liebe singt, sich aber zunehmend von dieser Welt entfremdet. Die Musik ist fröhlich und ahnungsvoll, kybernetisch und zutiefst menschlich, alles zugleich. Streicher, die an avantgardistische Kammermusik und klassische Horrorfilm-Soundtracks erinnern, prallen auf Gitarren- und Basslinien. Das Schlagzeug ist manchmal gefiltert und klingt fast elektronisch, aber kein Computer könnte einen so funkigen und dynamischen Rhythmus erzeugen, bei dem jede winzige Variation von einem Snare-Schlag zum nächsten Welten der Möglichkeiten vermittelt. An der Spitze steht die unnachahmliche Altstimme von Satomi Matsuzaki. Eine Stimme der Einsamkeit, deren schlichte Ruhe seltsam außerhalb des Mahlstroms der Band zu stehen scheint, zu dem sie mit ihren zackig-präzisen Bassläufen selbst beiträgt. Als Einwanderin der ersten Generation in den USA hat sie nie versucht, ihren japanischen Akzent oder ihre Karaoke-esken Vortrag zu verbergen. Auf "Noble und Godlike in Ruin" wirkt dies abwechselnd als Ausdruck von Einsamkeit und als kühle Provokation gegenüber Systemen der Unterdrückung und Kontrolle. ,Kindness is all I needed from you", singt sie auf dem epischen Albumabschluss ,Immigrant Songs`. ,But you think we're in your house." Nicht lange danach explodiert der Song, sein eng gewickelter Art-Pop macht Platz für mehrere Minuten heulenden Lärm. Auch wenn das Thema düster sein mag - wie könnte es anders sein - tragen die Songs trotzigen Optimismus in ihrer Weigerung, sich den Konventionen oder überlieferten Weisheiten zu beugen. Da ist diese berühmte Zeile von Dylan Thomas über das Wüten gegen das Sterben des Lichts: "Noble and Godlike in Ruin" fühlt sich ein wenig so an. Die Welt mag untergehen, aber Deerhoof gehen schwungvoll unter.

Deerhoof haben sich schon vor langer Zeit als eine der großartigsten Rockgruppen des Planeten etabliert - wer das für übertrieben hält, hat noch nicht genug Zeit damit verbracht, Deerhoof zu hören - das wahnsinnig erfinderische Quartett behandelt jedes seiner neuen Alben als eine Gelegenheit zur kreativen Wiedergeburt. Und doch sind sie irgendwie auch zutiefst zuverlässig, eine seltsame, aber wahre Beschreibung für eine Band, die so kreativ rastlos ist. Man weiß nie, wie ein neues Deerhoof-Album klingen wird, außer dass es immer nach Deerhoof klingen wird. Die Band wird durch solche Paradoxien definiert, wie "Noble and Godlike in Ruin" erneut bestätigt. Ihr neuestes Album ist entweder ein Porträt einer Welt, die in monströsen Hass, Entmenschlichung und Dollarzeichen abgleitet, oder ein eindringliches Selbstporträt der Band als Monster: ein intelligentes, sensibles, hybrides Wesen, das unermüdlich von Liebe singt, sich aber zunehmend von dieser Welt entfremdet. Die Musik ist fröhlich und ahnungsvoll, kybernetisch und zutiefst menschlich, alles zugleich. Streicher, die an avantgardistische Kammermusik und klassische Horrorfilm-Soundtracks erinnern, prallen auf Gitarren- und Basslinien. Das Schlagzeug ist manchmal gefiltert und klingt fast elektronisch, aber kein Computer könnte einen so funkigen und dynamischen Rhythmus erzeugen, bei dem jede winzige Variation von einem Snare-Schlag zum nächsten Welten der Möglichkeiten vermittelt. An der Spitze steht die unnachahmliche Altstimme von Satomi Matsuzaki. Eine Stimme der Einsamkeit, deren schlichte Ruhe seltsam außerhalb des Mahlstroms der Band zu stehen scheint, zu dem sie mit ihren zackig-präzisen Bassläufen selbst beiträgt. Als Einwanderin der ersten Generation in den USA hat sie nie versucht, ihren japanischen Akzent oder ihre Karaoke-esken Vortrag zu verbergen. Auf "Noble und Godlike in Ruin" wirkt dies abwechselnd als Ausdruck von Einsamkeit und als kühle Provokation gegenüber Systemen der Unterdrückung und Kontrolle. ,Kindness is all I needed from you", singt sie auf dem epischen Albumabschluss ,Immigrant Songs`. ,But you think we're in your house." Nicht lange danach explodiert der Song, sein eng gewickelter Art-Pop macht Platz für mehrere Minuten heulenden Lärm. Auch wenn das Thema düster sein mag - wie könnte es anders sein - tragen die Songs trotzigen Optimismus in ihrer Weigerung, sich den Konventionen oder überlieferten Weisheiten zu beugen. Da ist diese berühmte Zeile von Dylan Thomas über das Wüten gegen das Sterben des Lichts: "Noble and Godlike in Ruin" fühlt sich ein wenig so an. Die Welt mag untergehen, aber Deerhoof gehen schwungvoll unter.

Es ist ein Fall von popkultureller Archäologie. Eine Spurensuche der elektronischen Musik. Nach über 30 Jahren tauchen verschollene Tapes von Holger Czukay wieder auf, die er einst "zur freien Verfügung" eingespielt hatte. Eine Sound-Meditation von 1997, die nun erstmals neu gemastert im Original und in einer "Version" von die ANGEL (Ilpo Väisänen / Dirk Dresselhaus) und Zappi W. Diermaier von der Krautrock-Legende Faust vorliegt.

Die Arbeiten aus dem Czukay-Studio sind eigenwillige Klangstrukturen, die Mastering-Ingenieur Dresselhaus alias Schneider TM einschätzt als "futuristisches Kleinod, das für seine Entstehungszeit musikalisch weit vorne ist." Für ein abstraktes Klanggebilde "tief und emotional" wie er sagt. Eine Komposition, die mit Avantgarde oder Neue Musik nur unzureichend beschrieben ist. Ein echter Czukay eben. Die Genese dieser Aufnahmen führt in die freigeistigen 1990er, als Holger Czukay in Köln mit jüngeren Techno-Kollegen wie Dr. Walker von Air Liquide mit Beats experimentierte und sich ansonsten sehr für die leise Explosion der digitalen Medien interessierte.

Es war der Tech-Pionier und Medienkünstler Arthur Schmidt alias Gvoon, der ihn in langen Gesprächen auf die (damals futuristische) Data-Maschine "RealityEngine" brachte, mit der sich virtuelle Welten erschaffen ließen. Vom Full-Body-Tracking-System bis zum gemeinsamen Prototyp eines "Internet-TV-Senders". Darauf liefen experimentelle Czukay-Videos, die er mit neuen Samples und Klangfragmenten ausstattete. Später wurde eine kontemporäre Show namens "Czukay/Gvoon:Magazine" daraus und auch die "Can-Live-Soloprojekts" im März 1999, ausgestattet mit der Body-Tracker-Technik von Gvoon. Die DDR-Vergangenheit seines Tech-Sparringspartners Schmidt, der ihm von seiner Zeit in Stasi-Haftanstalten erzählte, setzte in Czukay einen kreativen Prozess frei. Er setzte dieses Trauma in Töne um und machte ihm ein musikalisches Geschenk. "Gvoon-Brennung 1", eine Gabe, die Schmidt "irgendwann" einmal verwenden könne. Einfach so. Ein Soundtrack, der ganz profan auf Digital Audio Tape übergeben wurde.

Über 20 Jahre später brachte Schmidt das "Czukay-Geschenk" für eine zum Kunstwerk umfunktionierte Verhörzelle des Ministeriums für Staatssicherheit (MfS) wieder zum Einsatz. Als Installation für einen stockfinsteren, bedrückenden Raum mit Gummiwänden. Hier stieß wiederum Dresselhaus auf das Material. Ihm wurde klar, dass er dort mehr hörte als irgendwelche 1990er-Fragmente: "Es ist irgendwie Blues-mäßig, auf eine kybernetische und abstrakte Art." "Mit einem sehr langsamen Groove, der einen die gesamte Strecke aufmerksam hält", sagt Dresselhaus. Er beschreibt den Mastering-Prozess sowie die Neubearbeitung in Form der "Gvoon-Version 1" als Balanceakt zwischen Respekt vor dem historischen Material und einer zeitgemäßen Studio-Bearbeitung.

Eine respektvolle Verbeugung zum 87sten Geburtstag von Holger Czukay im März 2025.

Italian composer and saxophonist Laura Agnusdei returns with “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica” a career defining record that sees the artist diving into uncharted waters, a profound timeless meditation on our relationship with planet Earth, the eco-conflicts arising and the fascination with non human forms of life, backdropped to a vivid soundtrack of coral exotica, spiritual Jazz, fourth-world minimalism, tropical electronics, tribal futurism and contemporary elegance.

Every step of Laura Agnusdei’s path, from electroacoustic experimentation to her constant research based upon the acoustic dimension of wind instruments and their interaction with polymorphic electronic sounds, seems to have pivoted into a new sense of awareness, as if the mind and intellectual practice has finally caught up with the body, the heart and the soul, resulting in her most organic and transcendent work yet. “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica” is loosely inspired around a trifecta of pioneering ideas that explore unconventional reality: James Bridle’s ‘Ways Of Being’ with his radical story that mixes ecology, tech and intelligence; Luigi Serafini’s late-70s fantastical ‘Codex Seraphinianus’, an unparalleled collection of flora, fauna, anatomies metamorphosed into new fragile beings; J.G. Ballard’s climate-fiction foreshadowing sci-fi ruminations. These influences shift Agnusdei’s musical trajectory injecting doses of terrestrial malaise, the earthy sub-saharan ‘Ittiolalia’ with its wah-wah filtered sax and trance inducing groove; the rubbery playfulness of ‘Oasi Bar’; the gentle eco-system of ‘P.P.R.N’ reminiscent of Herbie Hancock’s innovative synthesis of funk, space and synthesizers; the kaleidoscopic northern lights of ‘Emperor Penguin Lullaby’, where south-east Asian echoes reach icy shores; the Jon Hassell hyper-ambience of ‘Cuttlefish REM Phase’; the post-apocalyptic march of ‘The Drowned World, a jazz standard for an artificial civilization on the brink of self-destruction. Nothing feels out of place and it’s no coincidence that one of the most powerful messages on the record is delivered on centerpiece ‘Are We Dinos?’ via an interview conducted with two preschoolers. Radical optimism or sonic liberation?

Laura Agnusdei’s tenor sax cuts deep all across “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica”, a laser baton raised up to the clouds, a conductor orchestrating devotional soundscapes for a three-eyed dolphin, guiding us through prismatic pastures and acidic oceans. Her tropicalized realm is pin-pointed with Miles-like sheer clarity, a bristling nakedness on the verge of exploding at any time, creating an album where ascension becomes the unifying code.

Scanning Backwards, Phase Fatale’s second full-length album originally released on Berghain’s in-house label Ostgut Ton in 2020 is now reissued via his label BITE on limited edition pink marble vinyl after being long sold out and sought after. Using the connection between weaponized sound and psychological manipulation as a conceptual foundation, Hayden Payne explores the ways in which music – and sub frequencies in particular – are used to influence thinking and to synchronize emotions and behavior: from military technology to sound systems and the physicality and sexuality of queer techno culture.

Known for his innovative post-punk takes of dance music as featured on EPs for unterton and Ostgut Ton, the Berghain resident draws on his background as both a guitarist and sound engineer to create a heady mix of broken rhythms, noise-, and shoegaze-inflected techno, often at slower tempos. The result is music with space and pace to expand, highlighting the intense rushes of frequencies found in both sonic warfare and functional dance music. Over eight tracks named after a combination of historical and fictional narratives from literature and science fiction, Payne’s rhythmic excursions explore different manifestations of sound as power – specifically within the context of seeing Berghain as an instrument itself. This is also reflected in the album artwork, taken from an early flyer for the SNAX party series and an obvious ode to the fetishization of power dynamics.

In his own words: “All tracks on the album, no matter the style, were tailored to sound a certain way in Berghain – something I figured out through years of dancing in the middle of the floor, DJing as a resident and investigating what frequencies really penetrate the body. This includes speech and high-frequency, brain-penetrating instrumentation and drilling textures that I had not utilized so often before, but which I think also have an effect on thought and memory. It’s especially true in a space where gay and fetish roots combine with music in unexpected ways, almost in a cultish manner. A musical and physical deprogramming and reprogramming, psychic driving and de-patterning, the erasing and replacing of memories.”

Ultimately, Scanning Backwards surveys not only the manipulative properties of electronic music (mantras, loops, subliminal messages) but also how rhythm facilitates both moving and thinking in synchrony; a pulse of coordinated sound- and brainwaves.

(Standard black vinyl version) With their anticipated new album, Black Flower delves into the transformative power of rhythm and motion.



Each groove, rhythm and pulse channels raw energy, acting as a disruptor that drives transformation. When the mind feels stuck-cemented in patterns, rigid in its views, overwhelmed by obstacles-Kinetic serves as a reminder that the body's motion can be the force to shatter those confines. To move is to adapt, evolve, and transform.



The album embodies a philosophy of flowing with change rather than resisting it, offering a bold, dynamic statement on breaking free from life's limitations. Kinetic is a call to dance through life's chaos and to harness the power of movement as a tool for liberation.


The album showcases Black Flower's signature blend of Ethio-jazz, oriental influences, dub, and afrobeat. The jazz combo, hailed by tastemakers such as Gilles Peterson, The Gaslamp Killer, and Lefto Early Bird, has performed live sessions on BBC Radio 3 and Worldwide FM. Their previous albums earned widespread acclaim, with glowing reviews from prestigious publications such as MOJO, Stereogum, Q Magazine, and Uncut Magazine. The band has toured extensively across Europe, building a strong fanbase.



File under: contemporary Jazz / ethio jazz

‘Dynamic Movements - Music for Exercise & Relaxation’ is the new album by the Swedish electronic music producer/remix duo of Johan Agebjörn and Mikael Ögren, lovingly released on Ltd. cassette via Lo Recordings.

Back in the 1980’s there was an exercise craze, people wore lycra bodysuits and headbands. All over the world people were making ‘Dynamic Movements’, determined to change the flow, turn their lives around and step into a bright new future. At the same time the New Age movement was blossoming and meditation was the way forward. Meditation and deep relaxation with maybe some crystals and Unicorns, just for fun.

Inspired by these exercise tapes of the 70s/80s and in tribute to those times and movements, Johan and Mikael worked with producers from around the world to create an album of diverse interpretations, bringing us an album of deep sonic nourishment. Sometimes throbbing and at other times gently lapping at your toes, the result is a lavish cassette contrasting ‘music for exercise’ on side A and ‘music for relaxation’ on side B.

Kicking off side one is the duo’s own ‘Dynamo Dance’, a resonant, pulsating slice of electronic pleasure, which gives way to tracks by acclaimed collaborators like the crisp, cruise control groove of Causeway, the dub chug delight of Jarle Brathen and the irrepressible majesty of ‘Lovelock’ (Steve Moore), before Johan and Mikael return with a tribute to the late great Florian Schneider of Kraftwerk.

Side two’s sumptuous drift into a world of soft pads, rippling arpeggios and sultry saxophone (all the saxophone on the album is by the aforementioned Steve Moore) is initiated by Seahawks, with their lysergic ‘Phase Induction’ leading to the extended Cafe Del Mar beach bar ambience of the legendary Fax records maestro Dr Atmo, continuing with the impossibly lush shimmer of Mary Yalex, the gravity defying drift of One Million Eyes and the divine dream world of Patricia Wolf.

With their anticipated new album, Black Flower delves into the transformative power of rhythm and motion. Each groove, rhythm and pulse channels raw energy, acting as a disruptor that drives transformation. When the mind feels stuck-cemented in patterns, rigid in its views, overwhelmed by obstacles-Kinetic serves as a reminder that the body's motion can be the force to shatter those confines. To move is to adapt, evolve, and transform.
The album embodies a philosophy of flowing with change rather than resisting it, offering a bold, dynamic statement on breaking free from life's limitations. Kinetic is a call to dance through life's chaos and to harness the power of movement as a tool for liberation.
The album showcases Black Flower's signature blend of Ethio-jazz, oriental influences, dub, and afrobeat. The jazz combo, hailed by tastemakers such as Gilles Peterson, The Gaslamp Killer, and Lefto Early Bird, has performed live sessions on BBC Radio 3 and Worldwide FM. Their previous albums earned widespread acclaim, with glowing reviews from prestigious publications such as MOJO, Stereogum, Q Magazine, and Uncut Magazine. The band has toured extensively across Europe, building a strong fanbase

»Italia Synthetica 2025« features a Fred Ventura curated selection of unreleased tracks from a collective of Italian artists and producers who have long been influential in the electronic underground scene. These musicians continue to push boundaries and explore new frontiers within electro, synth-pop, and new wave. read on / listen

Black Truffle is thrilled to begin 2025 with a rare solo release from Konrad Sprenger, alias of elusive Berlin composer-producer-instrument builder Jörg Hiller. A prolific collaborator, Sprenger has worked extensively with icons of American minimalism such as Ellen Fullman (with whom her recorded the gloriously eccentric song album Ort) and Arnold Dreyblatt (as a core member of the Orchestra of Excited Strings since 2009), as well as releasing their music on his impeccably curated label, Choose. As an instrument builder and installation artist, he has overseen the creation of a computer-controlled multi-channel electric guitar and, with Phillip Sollmann, a modular pipe organ system designed to be reconfigured from space to space.

In much of Hiller’s work, a scientific approach to acoustic phenomena co-exists with a pop sensibility and a sly sense of humour. Nowhere is this unique combination more in evidence than in his slim body of solo work, beginning with the startling diversity of instrumentation and compositional approaches heard on the short pieces of Miniaturen (2006) and Versprochen (2009), followed by the more single-minded exploration of the computer-controlled electric guitar on Stack Music (2017). Set brings together these various strands of Sprenger’s work into a wildly infectious, playful epic, performed by the composer and the mysterious Ensemble Risonanze Moderne. On the LP’s second side, we are also treated to a guest appearance from longtime collaborator Oren Ambarchi, on whose recent solo releases Simian Angel and Shebang Sprenger has made key production contributions. Ambarchi’s signature stuttering, swirling harmonics weave through a sparkling assemblage of electric guitars, acoustic instruments, percussion and electronics—though, given the deft use that much of Sprenger’s recent production work makes of midi-controlled sampled instrumentation, it’s anyone’s guess where the acoustic ends and the digital begins here.

As soon as the needle drops on the first side, we are inside a musical world that Set will inhabit for its 33 minutes: sparkling guitar harmonics and palm-muted notes, tuned percussion, crisp electronic drum hits, flashes of horns, and untraceable bursts of synthetic sound are arranged into a skittering polyrhythmic framework calling up the detail-rich percussive constructions of contemporary techno filtered through the pointillism of the post-serialist European avant-garde. Behind this shifting mist of particulate sound, winds and strings sound out held chords, reminiscent of Arthur Russell’s Tower of Meaning in their epic yet seemingly aimless drift. The relationship between elements is mysterious, appearing both carefully considered and almost random. Though never straying too far from where it begins, as the piece moves along, it spotlights increasingly bizarre instrument choices (shakuhachi and steel drums, anyone?) as well as momentary liftoffs into motorik propulsion. Set is a fascinating, mercurial thing: at once propulsive and fragmented, essentially static in form yet ever-changing in detail, unabashedly egghead in its construction yet sure to get the feet tapping.

“Music is my forever cove,” writes Portland, Oregon’s Luke Wyland of the ideas that give shape to Kuma Cove, his latest album under his own name. Though named after a real place on the Oregon coast, Kuma Cove casts its gaze far beyond the sightseer’s line of vision. Recorded live in the studio and blurring obvious lines between computer-based composition and electro-acoustic instrumentation, it is an album about flow, borders, transitory states, and shelter. Composed of discontinuous ripples and repetitions (“I’m forever searching for a better descriptor than looping, which feels too simple and flattened by overuse,” Wyland says), shaped into richly emotive arcs, and informed by his experience as a person who stutters, it is also an album about identity, self-expression, and the energies that sluice through and across what we perceive as linear time—like floodwaters seeking an exit, like streams running into the sea.

Artist’s Statement:
I made this record while spending significant time in the woods by the Sandy River in Corbett, Oregon,
where I've had my studio for the last five years. It is a diary of spontaneous live recordings edited to highlight the moments of clarity that emerge from long-form improvisations. These compositions express a slowing internal rhythm. An unwinding. A somatic recalibration as I enter middle age. A newly empowered vulnerability.

Here are the internalized cadences of my stutter, flowing freely from my fingers. The musicality of my disfluency is revealed in its frictions, elongations, and foreshortenings. Disruptions in linear time, where the bubbling cadences of my stutter find unexpected pathways, reveal the elasticity of the present moment. This is my idiosyncratic language, shaped and inspired by my disability. Subliminally mirroring internal processes, neural firings, cognitive entanglements...

The title, Kuma Cove, refers to a beloved cove on the coast of Oregon my wife and I return to yearly. There has always been something so magnetic about coves. The way they cradle one from the overwhelming enormity of the ocean beyond, muting a primordial fear. I experience these improvisations as ecosystems I'm able to inhabit for stretches of time, embodying the particular rhythms and sensorial textures within each. Music is my forever cove. Everything you hear is created live in Ableton on a setup I've been honing for 15 years. I celebrate MIDI and computer music as an extension of self and strive to make it as expressive as any analog instrument. I was a visual artist for the first half of my life and quickly adapted those skills to composing and producing on a computer. The transition felt natural within the landscape of DAW's interfaces, especially as a synesthete. Ableton and its community of Max creators continue to surprise me with its expansiveness.

I'm forever searching for a better descriptor than looping, which feels too simple and flattened by overuse. I envision sonic loops as tangled masses of time, three-dimensional knots spinning on tilted axes, or overlapping wreaths refracting out a myriad of colors. My practice is continually refocusing my ear to what is revealed in the repetitions, searching for the fingerprint of each. I find it incredible how technology lets us manipulate time like this. Nothing on this record is quantized or locked to a universal bpm. Experiencing numerous tempos at once feels important. Recordings as mirrors. Freedom from expected (conversational) flow as we hold time for each other.
-Luke Wyland, August 2024

Artist Bio:
Luke Wyland is an interdisciplinary artist, composer, and performer based in Portland, OR (USA). Wyland has been releasing critically acclaimed records for the past 20 years in the groups AU and Methods Body, as LWW, and under his own name, working with such labels as New Amsterdam, Beacon Sound, Balmat, The Leaf Label, and Aagoo Records. As a person who stutters, Wyland’s approach to music is informed by his idiosyncratic relationship with language. Wyland believes deeply in the cathartic power of live performance as a means for collective healing. Through an interdisciplinary art practice that focuses on improvisation, somatic embodiment, bespoke tuning systems, the cadences of disfluent speech, and time manipulation technologies, he’s collaborated with choreographers, high-school choirs, filmmakers, sound designers, and renowned musicians such as John Niekrasz, Holland Andrews, Colin Stetson, and Abraham Gomez-Delgado. He’s also the co-creator of the “It’s A Fucking Miracle” dance class with Tahni Holt.
Wyland has toured nationally and internationally and performed at the Whitney Museum, Ecstatic Music Festival, Issue Project Room, PICA’s Time-Based Arts Festival, End of the Road Festival, and Les Nuits Botanique, among others.

Two years ago, after Covid sent the industry into a tailspin I made the sad decision to stop pressing Holding Hands records to vinyl. This was gutting as the label had been putting records out from the first release and it had always felt like an integral part of the label’s identity.

It sucked but I always hoped that in the future I would be able to feel confident in pressing records again and I am so happy to say that the time has finally come again!


Earth Trax popped into my inbox with some demos and I instantly knew there was something special here. The tracks are absolutely timeless and will do the business on any dancefloor from now until the end of time.

The A sides have more of loopy club quality that you could listen to all night. The sort of thing that you just lose yourself to when it comes on in the club. You aren’t sure exactly when it came on but you suddenly realise that you’ve been gurning with your eyes closed for some indeterminate amount of time. Basically, they’re very chewy loops (note to self: potential cereal idea).

The B sides have more of a...for lack of a better word, B side quality to them. They’re both broken and they make me want to move my body from side to side in a sort of jagged cool 80’s way. Ones to make you move and think at the same time.

OK enough of my blather. Go and listen to the damn things yourself and decide if you like them, rather than trying to work it out from reading a bloody press release you weirdos.

All four tracks are produced and sculpted for the club. They want big sound systems and dark rooms.

Close your eyes, hold hands and experience transcendental space flight...

Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series, blurring the boundaries between text, music and voice, returns with their fifth instalment, an expanded version of Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, across its two sides the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist taps an almost dada sensibility, delivering a suite of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life.

Roughly a year ago, we had the pleasure of exploring the first two releases from Dischi Fantom’s emerging Sussurra Luce series, Ginevra Bompiani, Caterina Barbieri, and Tomoko Sauvage’s “Il Calore Animale” and Francesco Cavaliere’s “Zoomachia Disc 1”. An extension of the Milan based cultural platform Fantom’s broad and diverse activities (exhibitions, installations, performances, etc.) across numerous artistic disciplines, the series, curated by Francesco Cavaliere and Massimo Torrigiani, delves into the “science of imagination”, working with contemporary authors to explore and blur the boundaries between text, music and voice. Now the brilliant series returns with its latest entry, the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Released in a limited edition of 200 copies and coming with an LP-sized booklet, it combines orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, and it’s a stunning gesture of performative poetics that plums a startling range of subjects through its sonorous forms.

Working across the fields of text, vocal performance, sound installation, printed objects and sculpture, for more than a decade Hanne Lippard has deployed language as the raw material for her work. Working within a practice that rests at the juncture of the spoken and written word, drawing upon content appropriated from the public sphere (found text) intertwined with her own words, Lippard’s work investigates how the rise in digital communication and mediation reprograms our relationship to language, presenting the subsequent fragility of language - its flaws, oddities, and potential for misinterpretation - and its attempts to convey meaning and sense.

“Talk Shop”, the fifth instalment of Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series and Lippard’s third recorded release - building upon the ground of 2020's “Work”, issued by Collapsing Market, and 2021's “PigeonPostParis”, released by Boomkat Editions - began as a live performance. Combining orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, its relationship with the world of work today, and its personification through the experience of the human body - anonymity as the spearhead of the digital economy - the conceptual underpinnings of the piece depart from the notion that the human voice has become commodified by the ubiquitous nature of contemporary productivity, and intertwined with the mechanics of capital - the voices of satnavs, smart speakers and voicemail systems - while the written word has become increasingly anonymous online.

Addressing vocal anonymity as a spearhead of the digital economy, Lippard’s “Talk Shop” - regarded by the artist as “a compilation of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life” - taps an almost dada sensibility through its unexpected layers of meanings drawn from a maximalized approach to the potential of the human voice, creating an engrossing and challenging listen from the first sounding to the last, that continues to reveal itself and unfold with every return.

Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, it culminates as one of the most strikingly singular creative gestures we’re likely to encounter this year. Highly recommended and not to be missed.

Hanne Lippard (Milton Keynes, 1984) explores the social forms that govern discourse. Her artistic practice, which mainly takes the form of reading and sound installations, investigates the voice as an instrument of emancipation and alienation in times of hyper-connectivity. By mixing personal thoughts and appropriating texts from advertising, slogans and newspaper articles, the text becomes a mix of private and public that regains inventiveness and authorship through the use of the voice, becoming a body of its own. Her recent artistic research has focused on the use of the female body as a container of sounds, on the conscious and unconscious automation of speech and language.

Maverick UK producer Kevin Richard Martin (Zonal / Techno Animal / King Midas Sound) joins Relapse for the release of his devastating new double album Machine, his first solo instrumental record as THE BUG.

Machine started life as a series of self-released "floor weapons" (to use Martin’s description), landing in installments between 2023 and 2024 on the Bandcamp page of Martin’s own PRESSURE label. And now - always his intention - Martin has collated a single, powerful, unified statement from those EPs. The album detonates apocalyptic dread-tech mutations of crushing intensity, fusing a unique new strain of futuristic dub with deadly deep electronics and killer bass riffs worthy of the heaviest metal. It is, writes Martin, “ice cold and dystopian.” It celebrates “atmospheric pressure, and the joy of full body assaults, via oversized sound systems in undersized club rooms.” Machine also represents the latest metamorphosis of the "Macro Dub Infection" philosophy Martin germinated with the groundbreaking series of compilations he began curating for Virgin Records as early as the mid 90’s.

In collaboration with musicians and parody artists Auralnauts, Stumpy Frog Records has pressed the soundtrack to their ongoing series of ‘As Seen on TV’ parodies known as the ‘Infomercial Wars’. During an unspecified point in time, a faceless dystopian company pushes out products under the guise of improving the quality of life for humanity. The commercials have a sexy presentation to them, designed to lull the viewer into a hypnotic state and gloss over what is really being sold to them: enslavement to an evil entity. The true purpose of these products is clear to anyone with an iron will: to imprison your mind, strip away your humanity and weaponize what remains. Humanity’s only hope is a scrappy group of freedom fighters whose key to success is convincing you to buy their products instead of the enemy’s. May the best infomercial win. Beyond humanity. Beyond Copper. The parody series is made up of real life infomercials with complete audio makeovers. The products themselves vary from one commercial to the next, but a popular trend in these ads is the seemingly unlimited uses for copper, which is taken even further by the parody versions. The bubbly pitchman from the source material has been replaced by a soothing, yet vaguely threatening alien presence. This mysterious voice paints a picture of a world that would make David Cronenberg and James Cameron blush, and all of it is held together by a dystopian soundtrack that is perfect for ushering humanity into the next step of this forced evolution. Side A of the album contains six full length studio versions of the music featured in each ad. 1) 300% More Human 2) Techromancer 3) Full Body Copper System 4) Master of Reality 5) Final Boss (Sock Defense Grid) 6) Beyond Copper Side B features the ads themselves, presented faithfully as they appear on the Auralnauts Youtube channel.

Following a run of chamber recordings, Samuel Reinhard returns with a suite of electroacoustic collages.

"Movement", the New York–based composer’s latest offering, is built from notes softly held. In his ongoing investigation of musical duration, perception, and attention, Reinhard deemphasizes progress through an embrace of repetition and negative space, inviting listeners to linger in time. Instrumental recordings are arranged according to a predetermined system, iterating fragments of sound in overlapping intervals of various sizes. Delicately layered snippets of decaying piano are joined by cello (Leila Bordreuil), bass flute (John Also Bennett), double bass (Vincent Yuen Ruiz), baritone sax (Michael Biel), and harp (Shelley Burgon). This breadth of instrumentation, arriving as individual notes stretched and overlapped, is treated not as an opportunity for immersive coalescence, but rather a gentle augmentation of texture, free-floating counterpoint. Notes are accompanied by the traces of the bodies and actions that produce them: a hand pressing a key or an arm keeping a bow aloft; breath filling an instrument’s body or glancing off its surface; a string vibrating and then softening to stillness. In sum, we hear resonance in the process of being sustained, as well as in the release that follows.

Dialling up the needlepoint rhythmic science and deadly restraint we hold so dear, SPD debuts on Sneaker Social Club with a taut four-tracker built for smashing systems with measured flair. It's no surprise to learn Will Sheppard has graced labels like Keysound, EC2A and Roska Kicks + Snares in recent times, given his sound taps into the UK bassweight lineage while maintaining a necessary futuristic tilt.

'Genbu' deals in the kind of stripped back, snaking sequences that keep a body of people rolling deep into the dance, powered by sounds so crisp you'd think they'd slipped out of a trouser press. Maintaining this sonic poise, 'Systema' is a lean, bleep-speckled roller with a firm grip on the square wave snarls lurking below the midrange.

'Willman' rides a choppier groove, but still Sheppard holds down the dance with a monk-like patience, finding power in the art of holding back before opening out into the subtly emotional swathes of 'OK' to round the record out. The devil is in the detail, and there are deep-diving layers to the sound of SPD, but this is a specific angle on club music that prizes subtlety and meditation over brash arrangement swerves and bait hype trysts. For selectors seeking sublime set builders, SPD has got you.

CECILIA is a nomadic soul. Like in an existentialist epic that traverses different ages on a phantom thread of love, spirituality, desire and rage. She inhabits different bodies, inserts herself in a whole array of different characters. Some are fictional, some are as real as the artists that inspired her, and whose influence appears in CHOEUR under the guise of tiny fragments, direct quotes, dedications and spectral presences. Cecilia channels the poetry of different lives that might have been her own or might have only existed in dreams, and does so within a collection of songs that twist the path of traditional French and Italian songwriting into the inmost recesses of electronic mysticism. The composition of CHOEUR took place mostly around January 2023, a pretty precarious time in the artist life, and happened in a spontaneous and ritualistic manner that could appear as somewhat odd in the realm of electronic music production. Birthing out of ego-free solo jams in hyphened states of consciousness and audience-less performances, these moments of do-or-die energy intake served to funnel the wilderness of her emotions into extremely tight arrangements, ultimately allowing a dramaturgy of fierce and beautiful songs into existence. Striving for the sublime, CECILIA trained her whole body for a paradoxical procedure of disconnection and reconnection. A crucial pin in Melissa Gagné’s system of 7-year creative cycles, CHOEUR marks her debut on Haunter Record as much as the first step towards the possibility of a new artistic identity. A labour of love if there ever was one. CHOEUR is made of Awe, Chants and Ravishment, of Pain until Vision. CHOEUR prays Earth, Water, Stars, Sea. CHOEUR feels Spirits, Lightning, Thunder, Dawn, Dusk, Blood, Flowers. CHOEUR invokes a Return, to Grace. CHOEUR loves Mud and longs to Play. CHOEUR lives in a Dream created by a Dream. CHOEUR lives in a Body created by Love. CHOEUR is about a broken heart, open and ecstatic, about the beauty and the sadness that all is not what could be, about wandering and wondering why were the stars made so beautiful?

One of the hottest talents emerging from the New Zealand underground, Brassic, returns to DDD with a tour de force of a record, Into Chaos EP.

Switching from the sublime to the ridiculous, while simultaneously traversing a mental cliff edge under the constant threat of experimental torture - this EP is a no hold bars attack on all your senses.

Out on a limited edition six track vinyl and digital EP, come and get lost in the deep caves of Brassic’s warped and psychoactive mind.

Ranging from the grunge-influenced broody opener, Antagonist, to the outright naughty system banger, Alienated, through to the string punctuated grime influences of title track Into Chaos and the epic EP closer I Am - this body of work is a true gaze into the mind of a truly visionary creative and at points the producer’s soul.

Will you step Into Chaos?

Ten bad boy digi riddims from the myspace era by Copenhagen’s Maffi crew, dubbed out into 3D space by disrupt in 2024. Raw, minimalist CyberDancehall at its best, nostalgic and oddly futuristic at the same time, this album is quickly becoming RoboCop’s favorite playlist when going to work.
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Maffi Promotions a.k.a. Maffi Boys come straight outta 1773 Kbh V, Copenhagen, Denmark. Originally founded in 1990 by the two homeboys, lazy body Moog and Junior the Rat, Maffi Promotions have been a steady producer of simple digital riddims for years. Hanging out in the streets of Hummel City Junior & Moog used to entertain their friends with the primitve riddims of the Maffi sound. Not knowing that they would do the exact same thing fifteen years later, they continued to believe that one day they would move up the ladder, break out of the underground and reach for the stars.

Now, after finally adopting a little sense of realism, the two homeboys have realised that stardom is nothing compared to spamming people on myspace. So the two stoners decided to get a couple of friends together and turn up the bass online. Together with their sound crew FIREHOUSE, Maffi deal nuff weed and gyals!

Maffi Boys are very dedicated to the art of playing Sensible World of Soccer, rolling weed joints with Manitou tobacco and keeping it real in a Vesterbro-style. So watch out! And don’t test! We’ll be putting up new riddims on a weekly basis. We have nuff things brewing – including a delicious chicken!
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Growing up in the streets of Hummel City, Vesterbro, MOOG learned the pleasures of sleeping late, playing Sensible World Of Soccer and picking up hot gyals at an early age. He has spent most of his life trying to master these crucial skills. Taking a break from the dog race, Moog is currently focused on reaching a higher understanding of reggae-science and weedology.

JUNIOR experienced the necessity of rolling well-made spliffs at an early age. Incorporating the aestethic heritage of Scandinavian design, he has spent most of his life perfectionizing this old and traditional art form. Junior is currently taking his ph.d. in digital reggae by buying crates of 80’s 7″ and selecting for his sound system Firehouse.

forgive too slow, Avant Garde artist julia-sophie’s deeply personal debut album is testament to her ability to transform adversity into raw beauty, combining her traditional songwriting roots with her own take on experimental electronica. It features her intimate voice backed by warm and precise electronic sounds whose free spirited explorations give body to the carefully written personal songs julia-sophie comes off the drama of her 2010s rock band, Little Fish, which was signed to a major label. The surreal experiences (like being flown to Las Vegas in helicopters with a bag of slot machine money or given limousines for the day to go shopping), along with having to work in environments where she felt unsafe, drove her decision to leave the fame game. She turned down the offer to emigrate to America and engage with the machinations of the system as it did not feel “true or congruent with who I was”. Instead, she focused her attention on her hometown (Oxford, UK). She started recording lo-fi pop in her garage, using an old laptop, wonky microphones and hitting whatever was around for beats. Candy Says grew to be more of a collective than a band, and eventually co-wrote a film score for indie film Burn Burn Burn and recorded a cover of Running Up That Hill for the Netflix film Close (starring Noomi Rapace). Julia-Sophie soon started recording songs with her friend B, who had a studio stacked from wall-to-wall with analogue recording gear, vintage synths and drum machines. She decided to self-release and the music reached audiences beyond her expectations, including support from BBC Radio 6 and a feature in The Quietus. forgive too slow is Julia-Sophie’s debut solo album, and concerns relationships and the struggles we go through when we “forgive too slow” and can’t break out of patterns from the past. The songs narrate her story of self-destruction (“numb”), love (“falling”), and loss (“telephone”). By the end, embers are still burning and there is no telling if Julia-Sophie has found peace, but we do get a sense that she has gotten closer to the core of her being and is finally living authentically.

Moods & Grooves welcomes another talented deep house producer to the stable. BitterSuite's Jon Gray channels his influences into Compulsive Response, an EP of hypnotic synths and mesmeric atmospheres, floating on pulsing drum machines and deeply rooted basslines.

Following BitterSuite's releases on UK labels Situationism and Deep Systems, Compulsive Response creates moods of different shades to vitalize the mind, body and soul. Each of the four tracks sets its unique vibe, driven by a machine groove and steered with the colors of the imagination.