quête:click box

Silencio celebrates the first year of the label with a double-pack vinyl aptly titled Uno.
Comprising of new and established artists, the tracks on Uno collectively summarize the the feel of this label's year, while giving us a hint of what to expect in the year to come.
Click Box & Stefan Dichev kick off the release with 'Memories'. Presenting a collaborative production that will prove over and over again why sound is one of the strongest senses tied to memory. Engineered with emotionally responsive rhythms that roll into a rocksteady baseline, this track evokes feelings with finesse. "Memories" also features funky squiggle sounds and trailing even-tempered tones to punctuate its procession. This is one you'll want to relive every time the opportunity arises.
New comer Wave Particle Singularity has done it again. 'Virtue' is a tremendous track that will quickly establish itself as one of your new favorite things. The drum sequence, accented by beguiling background sounds and curious vocals, gallops throughout this selection with all its feet off the ground together in each smooth stride. Plus, it also comes fully equipped with a pleasingly unpredictable pace in the form of some moody, well-orchestrated changes that result in a perfectly adjusted attitude. Never a dull moment on the dance floor.
Guaranteed.
Kepler.'s latest offering 'Tool A' possess all the qualities one would normally associate with a fine wine because the taste left on the palate after its consumption is both complex and satisfying. During its ascent, effects that compress a thousand echoes into a single sample ride alongside an active baseline that ripples accordingly. Subtle, flavorful snippets bleep and bloop in complete balance, giving this cut a coordinated, contemplative vibe that brings everything into focus.
With his first track on Silencio, Yuuki Hori's 'Scene 5' is truly a unique item. This electromechanicaly exotic sounding export from Japan makes an impression with layers that are neatly stacked and minimal to the max. Its main feature, a sample that seemingly mimics the mating call of a male bullfrog, rhythmically ribbits in harmony with the beat, bellowing over the entirety of this track. All the various elements of this composition come together in a natural way that feels symbiotic and sounds superb.
Another Silencio first, Jorge Ciccioli's 'TD8' has a deliberate intention to create momentum, with a deep, penetrating baseline that rises to the occasion by descending the darkest depths of its own digital horizon. In the midst of the mix the listener is greeted with a clever chorus that effectively sounds like air vibrating, or in layman's terms "blowing", within an empty glass bottle. As it goes through the motions, observe how every note is noticeably nuanced in an effort to reflect the subtle changes that take place.
Closing out the release and year for Silencio, is Laughing Man with 'Reach Out'. Hard, heavyand heavenly are all terms that could be used to express the sentiment of this selection.
Notice how right from the get go this production profoundly pounds out its agenda with a solid, speedy beat that relentlessly rocks throughout the recording. Accompanied by aseries of wavy, spirited vocal layers, ringing bells and an inspired intersection of cymbals,this track is one hell of a ride that will enable you to make contact with the other side.

DYSTORTION
Extrawelt's Latest and Longest-Brewing Album Lands This December on Cocoon

In this beautiful world marked by rising chaos, sometimes the simplest way to escape its troubles is through sonic relief. Germany's renowned electronic duo Extrawelt will offer exactly that with their 5th full-length album, DYSTORTION, via Cocoon Recordings this December.

For over two decades, the humble duo behind Extrawelt, who shy away from making music for clicks, have been a steadfast presence in electronic music. Known as serious studio and tour-focused artists who craft timepiece albums, each a work of enduring craft, that go on to create atmospheric, out-of-the-box live acts, they've been shaping and redefining electronica since their first release.


DYSTORTION is their most diverse and evocative album to date. Imagined over six years and shaped by a world in flux through COVID, political upheavals, social media, and AI, it reflects the contrasts and twists we've all felt while offering surges of serenity and hope. From brooding tension to playful relief, it moves through different states in an evolved Extrawelt manner.

The album's opening credit, "Grand Départ," as if a cinematic prelude, invites us into a world of creeping bass, an explicitly Extrawelt sound that's synonymous with the "anti-genre genre" they work within. The album's second track, "Clapland," sees Extrawelt joining forces with Jimi Jules, a name synonymous with excellence in electronic music, creating a rare collaboration that is felt in every note. Soon, the mood shifts into softer melodies as heard in "Surrounded By Miracles," "Hope Sounds Good," and "Sir Stringalot," which bring bright euphorics to balance the darker moments in an album echoed by industrial influences. Later, as "Dystortion" (the album's title track) unfolds, we're drawn into something few electronic artists can create: raw emotion. This is a gritty landscape as reflective as it is pulsing, glitchy, intense, and richly textured.

DYSTORTION is a reflection of a complex, divided world, carried through dramatically with Extrawelt's signature techno tension. Like the world right now, it is full of contradictions, surprises, and moments of introspection, an essential listen for fans of mature electronic music that may or may not need a reminder of why, after 20 years, we're still listening.

Two sides, each lasting 8 minutes and 50 seconds. A clash that resonates in friction, united by the materiality of vinyl - if only for a time. Or at best, a rapprochement, like in cinema. On side A, a MIDI composition by Xavier Robel for synthesized piano, based on La Monte Young's tuning system for The Well-Tuned Piano. Mouse clicks, boxing gloves, vibrancy, and mischief. On side B, a positively insistent On-U Sound-flavored rhythmic investigation, produced by Androo in response to Xavier Robel's composition (one he hadn't asked for). From sparse elements, a kaleidoscopic pulse unfolds - as dub seeps within a fog of electroacoustic fluctuations.

We are honoured to work with Neil, who’s been an intrinsic part of the UK techno scene, especially with his devotion to experimentation within the genre! Sorry for the typo on the centre label mate. This release came out of the thirst for something very much outside the box.. literally! Fun fact: Fang Man was inspired by a breakdown driver who Neil met the day before signing this EP with us. Maximum respect to all DJs who picked this one up for the club circuit or radio spins! Thanks to everyone who’s been supporting the label and bought the wax, we’ve got plenty more in the works.

Vierfaches Vinyl (Frosted White Vinyl Colour) - oder CD-Box-Set, kuratiert von David Gedge, um vier kompromisslose Jahrzehnte The Wedding Present zu feiern. Nachdem sich die Alternative-Rock-Band The Lost Pandas aus Leeds Anfang der 1980er Jahre aufgelöst hatte, beschlossen Sänger/Gitarrist David Gedge und Bassist Keith Gregory, eine neue Gruppe zu gründen. 1985, inspiriert von Pop-Radio, Punk-Frechheit, The Velvet Underground und Davids ehemaligen Schulkameraden The Chameleons, gründeten sie The Wedding Present. Diese Band war - und ist bis heute - in jeder Hinsicht kompromisslos und unerschütterlich authentisch, und so wurde Gedge, ohne es zu beabsichtigen, zu einer legendären Figur der alternativen Musik. Er ist einer der wichtigsten Architekten und Begründer des alternativen Gitarrenrocks und der Mastermind hinter einem der reichhaltigsten, eingängigsten und beständigsten Kataloge der Popgeschichte. Vier Jahrzehnte später, mit 13 Studioalben, 20 Compilation-Alben und einer ganzen Reihe von Singles, EPs, Live-Alben und Radio-Sessions - und weiteren in Aussicht - ist "The Wedding Presen 40" eine feiernde Reflexion dieser komplexen und faszinierenden Band. Erhältlich als vier Vinyl- oder vier CD-Box-Sets, handelt es sich hierbei nicht um eine gewöhnliche Sammlung der ,beliebtesten" Songs, sondern um eine chronologische, akustische Reise durch Albumtracks, Singles und B-Seiten. Das atemberaubende Artwork wurde von Jonathan Hitchen zusammengestellt, der viele der Original-Plattencover der Band entworfen hat, und es gibt ausführliche Begleittexte von David Gedge selbst sowie dem renommierten Musikjournalisten Mark Beaumont NME, Guardian, Independent. Gedge's Kommentare bieten einen einzigartigen Einblick in die Arbeitsweise der Band und einen spannenden Track-für-Track-Leitfaden zur Jubiläums-Compilation. Inklusive 32-seitigem Hardcover-Buch mit ausführlichen Begleittexten von Mark Beaumont sowie Kommentaren zu jedem einzelnen Titel von David Gedge.




[b] 1.2YOU SHOULD ALWAYS KEEP IN TOUCH WITH YOUR FRIENDS [PEEL SESSION VERSION]


[e] 1.5MY FAVOURITE DRESS [LP VERSION]



[i] 1.9GIVE MY LOVE TO KEVIN [ACOUSTIC VERSION]




[n] 2.3BRASSNECK [SINGLE VERSION]





[t] 2.9CORDUROY [LP VERSION]





[z] 3.6SPANGLE [LP VERSION]



[xd] 3.10INTERSTATE 5 [LP VERSION]





[xj] 4.5TWO BRIDGES [LP VERSION]

[xl] 4.7I AM NOT GOING TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU [LP VERSION]
[xm] 4.8SCIENCE FICTION [LP VERSION]

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.

Originally conceived as a compilation of outtakes and live recordings from The Shadow Ring's 1995 stateside tour, Wax-Work Echoes takes its name from the first line of "Put the Music in Its Coffin," the title track of the group's breakthrough release. Lambkin abandons the bitsand- bobs approach, advancing the Shadow Ring concept with entirely original material that builds on the unit's self-mythologizing lyrics, celebrates the clicking of horse hooves, ponders on the sociability of rats and mice, and warns of the dangers of poultry. The first Shadow Ring album to officially include Tim Goss in the main lineup, Wax- Work Echoes reveals the group in its final and lasting form, awash in the outer bounds of atmospheric exploration, with Lambkin's familiar wry and morbid lyricism and the stripped-down angularity of amateurishly detuned guitars fully intact. While Klaus Canterbury and Tony Clark seem all but forgotten, and the shrugged off S. Fritz is listed on the liner notes as performing only "when required," Lambkin did solicit contributions from outside the inner circle. A bit of "Mambo Twist," lifted from a tape of unreleased Vitamin B12 material sent to Lambkin by Alasdair Willis, found its way into "V.E.R.M.I.N.," while an extended epistle contribution from Richard Youngs (and, technically, Brian Lavelle) would be employed in the second half of "Catching Sight/Of Passing Things." Released on CD in 1996 for Bruce Russell's newly minted Corpus Hermeticum, Wax-Work Echoes was recorded concurrently with intense rehearsal periods, in anticipation of the forthcoming "Rose Watson Tour," and was supported by a celebratory fanzine media blitz. The album seemingly absorbs the frenetic excess of the band's transatlantic travels; Wax-Work Echoes channels the trio's wilder instincts into an unresolved catharsis, not yet free of frustration or restlessness. Out of print for almost three decades and available here for the first time ever on long-playing disc, Wax-Work Echoes is a classic from the outer eddies of The Shadow Ring's sound, a must-have for any aficionado's collection: "A window slides, glass slips from frame / And canvas carcass breathes again." Throughout their legendary, decade-long run, the Shadow Ring were an enigmatic force on the international musical sub-underground. Before their disbandment in 2002, this shambolic rock outfit, formed by a group of rowdy teenagers in southeast England, left behind a mighty run of eight LPs, a handful of 7"s, and a spate of raucous live shows and cryptic zine appearances on both sides of the Atlantic, all which have bolstered their enduring word-of-mouth mystique. Beginning in 2023 with the first-ever vinyl pressing of the self-released pre-Shadow Ring tape The Cat & Bells Club (1992), Blank Forms Editions has been conducting a systematic retrospective of the storied group. Wax-Work Echoes and Hold Onto I.D. are the latest releases in a multiyear reissue effort that includes several LPs, a comprehensive CD box set, and a nearly five-hundred-page book.

On ‘Animal’, Ash Fure appeals to “animal intelligence” by using sounds that are inherently physical and driven by perception, athleticism and interaction. Placing polycarbonate sheeting over an inverted subwoofer she built alongside her partner Xavi Aguirre and brother Adam, Fure isolates the physical impact of sound by focusing on psychoacoustic sub-bass pulses, semi-perceptible micro-rhythms and discomfiting white noise bursts, linking the process to her experiences in Berlin and Detroit’s techno dungeons where the sound has to adapt to the space it’s performed in. When she performed ‘Animal’ for the first time, Fure fabricated a “listening gym”, allowing the audience to interact in real-time by circuit training in response to the sound. The sweat is almost audible across the record, a run-on selection of rhythms, resonances and abstractions that sound like interlocking heartbeats on a series of treadmills. Her fascination with techno’s cavernous cathedrals is clear from the beginning, but Fure doesn’t worship at the altar: we’re hit with the feeling, not the aesthetic. The beats themselves, made from unstable vibrations and waterlogged, reverberating clicks, echo the brain’s unconscious reaction to repetition in a vast concrete box, the feeling you get when each percussive snag ricochets from every surface in the building. Coddling these whirring, criss-crossing polyrhythms with harsh, distorted low-end retches, Fure accurately recreates the energy and fatigue of the endless weekend sesh. We never once encounter techno in its expected shell, just its residue - the outline of humans figuring out their relationship with technology, architecture and each other. Fure’s use of dynamics is also deviously smart, marking out an overall rhythm that’s not tied to the strength of the sounds themselves, but just volume and physical impact. Often her most brutal sounds - ear-splitting squeals and overdriven mechanical whirrs - are reduced to an almost inaudible level, a bit like the bandy legged trip to the bathroom, or the escape to some dimly lit nook, the part of the night where you can still detect the sound on your skin without being battered by it. When the undulating rhythm returns in earnest, Fure masks acidic sequences in jet engine expulsions, still refusing to objectify anything that an AI model might be able to pick up on.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Ltd White Vinyl, DL card. 1992's 'Untitled' brought the band's third album that re-cemented the duo once again as the progenitors of the "lo-fi" genre. This breakthrough set transitioned "The Trux" into a never ending all-inclusive rotating cast of musicians. Continuing Fire Records' series of classic remastered albums from Royal Trux, 'Untitled' is released on white vinyl and features updated monochrome and silver artwork. As unpredictable as ever, Neil Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema shook off the next level layering and noise of 'Twin Infinitives' to embrace the history of rock 'n' roll in all its deformed grandeur. Utilizing their ever present mind set of macro-inclusivity, they allowed the subconscious "radio stations" of their lives to infiltrate, lead, and dictate. Culling from their collective minds and memories twisted tunes that touched them. After the blood rush of their much-hailed avant-garde masterpiece 'Twin Infinitives' (1988), this eight-song opus added to the lo-fi genre that originated on 'Twin Infinitives'. On 'Untitled' Hagerty uses his 5-string blues roots and hails rock's twisted potential, while Herrema slurs and snarls in ecstasy. They sound like they're locked in a fourth-floor boudoir at the Chelsea Hotel; bottles clink, an album clicks on its run-out groove, the band plays on. In the mix are the characters and casualties of the 90s, a roll call of swaggering misfits. These aren't superficial sketches, the Trux cut much deeper than that_ "'Junkie Nurse' isn't just about addiction; it's about the twisted hope that even the most broken people can somehow mend others, even when they're falling apart themselves." Jennifer Herrema, Royal Trux. With 'Untitled' Royal Trux justifiably increased their coterie of convicted followers, becoming the cult heroes for a transgressive generation, and the Rosetta Stone for male/female duos (ie:The White Stripes, The Kills etc... ) over the years inspiring everyone from The Silver Jews (David Berman) & Sonic Youth through to melodic blue-eyed soulsters like Hot Chip - "I urge and encourage you to enter the harmolodic multiverse of their music." Alexis Taylor, Hot Chip. "Royal Trux were nothing if not fearless." Pitchfork.

Dawson’s latest offering, The Tinnitus Chorus, is an album of wide-eyed collaborations. He is joined by an inspired cast of revered friends and kindred strangers including Suso Saiz, M. Sage (Fuubutsushi), Eli Winter, K. Freund, (Trouble Books / Lemon Quartet), Dasom Baek, Lina Langendorf (Langendorf United), Vumbi Dekula, Jairus Sharif, Yutaka Hirasaka, and his bandmates in Peace Flag Ensemble. The collection is bookended by two pieces with Michael Grigoni. From birdsong and decaying tape to Western sprawl, each of Dawson’s previous solo records have moved in a singular direction but here he approaches things through a kaleidoscopic lens. While his weathered ambient sketches serve as a through line, they are woven with all manner of instrumentation from clarinet and modular synth to steel guitars and flugelhorn. Improvised Congolese guitar nuzzles next to American experimental folk. Handmade electronics give way to spiritual sax. M. Sage contributes something referred to as a “mystic music box”. The result is a strange and beautiful journey that feels lost between genres and yet wholly unified. Dawson reflects on the genesis of album with a smirk and a shrug. He has been marred by ear troubles in recent years and had been struggling to complete an album of solo material. The clicks, ringing tones, and hiss in his ears had been drowning out the ringing tones, clicks, and hiss in his studio. When he reached out to We Are Busy Bodies to provide an update on the record he was met with an unsuspecting proposal that perhaps he shift focus to an album of collaborations. The truth is he had been ruminating on the idea for years and the nudge from WABB proved to be the motivation he needed to shelve his insecurities and invite artists he admires to join him for The Tinnitus Chorus.

Resonance is one of the most powerful forces this world has,
simply because there is no way to stop it. A drop of
condensed water separates itself from the concrete ceiling.
Propelled only by its own weight, it plummets down towards
a cacophony of naked bodies and §ailing arms to shatter on
a the forehead of an ecstatic dancer. And while all this is
happening, a voice resonates through the entire room,
making the walls shake and the crowd lose themselves even
further : “Move Your Body, Move Your Soul”. Narciss emerges
from a grimey basement in Berlin to bring us two heavy
utility dance§oor cuts on Actions Speak Louder Than Words,
his ¦rst Solo EP on Seelen. The title track is truly something
to behold. With a breakneck tempo, hard hitting percussions
and a legendary house vocal, it wields an absolutely
hypnotizing power that, before you know it, will make
everyone in attendance grind and juke till the early morning
hours. There is a palpapable vibe of mid 90s Detroit-Techno
but still it manages to cut out an identity for its own, with
razor sharp sound-design and a very uplifting attitude for its
genre. And while the tracks arrangement and sound-design is
very minimal, it is on Brennpunkt that Narciss really §exes
his trademark way of building tension with remarkably few
elements. Everything here is stripped down to its most
functional core. The synth-lead is simple yet menacing, the
kick-drum hits like a boxer, and you can be pretty sure that
the hihats will leave burns if you get too close to the record.
As is custom on this label, the B-side is dedicated to thereconstructive efforts of friends or family. This time the
mastermind of Manhigh and Grounded Theory, Mr. Henning
Baer, and Seelen’s very own Shaleen have both let their
actions speak. Henning Baer has taken on the title track in
his Remix and has transformed it into a true vintage electro
cut. A distorted synth and pad add heavy grit to the original’s
vocal, and the warehouse sized kickdrum will knock anyone
unprepared off their feet. Meanwhile Shaleen’s reinterpretation of Brennpunkt strips it down even further,
swirling the original’s elements into a groovy maelstrom.
This version rumbles, clicks and sneers, with sampled voices
from a Shakespeare play giving the whole ordeal a truly
macabre feeling. This is a tool for only the most darkest of
warehouses when the night is at its peak. So now, to
summarize this record : it is a call to action. And because of
this, it continues to resonate, even when the last track has
been played. And a resonance can never be stopped.

LIMITED INDIES LOSER EDITION PRESSED ON BLUE TRANSPARENT VINYL! Stella makes her Sub Pop debut with the mesmerizing Up and Away, an old-school pop paean to the pangs and raptures of love. From the Greek folk-inflected get-go, we're swept up in Stella's world - and it's quite the captivating place to be. The singer-songwriter joined forces with artist and producer Tom Calvert (aka Redinho), and it was a match made in Athens; the results are heavenly. Tom caught one of Stella's gigs on a visit to the city. He reached out, they started hanging out, and the pair soon clicked creatively. Both mention chemistry when asked about their collaboration and it's clear, from what we hear, they had it in spades. The meld is seamless. Stella's songs have always riffed on American and Greek mid-century pop but Up and Away doubles down on the vintage aesthetic. Tom says he styled the record "as if it was a rare gem from the '60s found in a box of records in Athens," and Stella notes she was ready for a more "deeply Greek touch - it felt comfortable and right, smoothly fusing with the pop." The bouzouki appears on a full five tracks played by Christos Skondras who, she says, "was brilliant at improvising," while Sofia Labropoulou on the kanun "brought an insane amount of dreaminess to the last two songs. Having these amazing musicians play for Up and Away - I couldn't be more grateful." While not exclusively a confessional artist, Stella is always intimate - when she sings, it's personal. She writes "about things I feel passion for. Stories about me, about others, about all that's there in love and war." Stella was "in a very emotional state at the time, which came through in the lyrics and vocals." And it's true, her honeyed voice - layered in those unmistakable harmonies of hers - thrillingly runs the gamut from tender to terse, by turns bracing and smitten, aching and forlorn. But it's the lyrics that feel key. Across her output, Stella has proven herself a strong storyteller, and Up and Away is no exception (the guise of the medieval bard she assumes on the cover is telling). Past releases have been studded with gem-like vignettes - a diverse array of stories set tightly together to form non-linear narratives unified by emotion. Her latest feels singular in that it seems to trace a longer-form tale across songs, with each track escalating the record's erotic arc. By the end of the album, Up and Away's core concerns are clear: the conflicting and conflicted emotions inherent in love, that live on in ways we can't always understand or control. Love is like this record: when it's over, you still feel it for time to come.

4x LP and Zine (ft. photos, historical text and track narrations by the artist) set. Nation bring it.
An essential delve in to the retrospective works of SSPS. Limited edition. No repress. HUGE TIP ON THIS!

" You can't fake the funk, as they say and SSPS is pure funk embodied in all he does, the man oozes the funk 24-7!
One of my earliest encounters with SSPS was at one of the infamous Rubulad parties out in Brooklyn....
the man was decked out extravagantly...a cross between Blowfly and some futuristic being zapped
down to earth directly from the P-Funk mothership. Who was this masked man?
The disco vampire, was beating fast disco tracks relentlessly while slamming in his 707 over the records in real time...
not an easy feat, the beauty of the imperfections making it that much more exciting hearing the gallop and wild energy
he was bringing to the crowd, we were eating it up. This is SSPS, fearless in his approach and execution,
a modernist looking to the future but rooted in the past, an artist committed to his art...
all presented with unhinged emotion. It's all or nothing...everything on the table....do or die...the true epitome of style!!!!

Declaring someone a "cult figure" or a "legend" is a huge weight to carry and is often a term that is carelessly thrown around,
but those of us who have dwelled in this "underground" over the last 30 years can say with confidence that SSPS is just that
to many of us, no questions asked, it's not up for debate.

Now, many years later we see the culmination of his electronic works from 2002-2021 committed to record in this 4xlp,
16 track boxed set (plus 45 page booklet) titled SSPS, "The Life and Times of GiGi Black" thus solidifying
Mr. Nicholson's place in the secret world of dance not dance music.

The only way to describe this offering is "full spectrum electronic musical madness" not to be categorized,
never to be pigeonholed, full of surprises and straight from the gut with a direct hit to the heart.
We could go on about the production processes, about his Furr City studio space or his cross country excursions
for work with a truck packed with paintings (but also his music equipment) plugging in and recording during his
pit stops in Motel 6's across the US. But again it doesn't do justice to simply have a small peek inside the man's mind...
the music is beyond the mind. The process is the process and nothing has or can stand in the way of what the SSPS
has done in his long musical life. Punk Rock, Hardcore, House, No-Wave, Industrial, Jakbeat/Slow-Beat and Noise.
it's all there for the taking, it's all intertwined. If you want it, you will find it within SSPS's works.

Nicholson's path is the embodiment of true culture within "dance music" cultivated from years of learning, experimenting,
and pushing the limits with total commitment and immersion. "The Life and Times of GiGi Black" is true life experience,
it is a reflection of someone delving deep into his craft and presenting it with care in opposition to the fast, disposable,
self gratifying click bait culture we see dominating the pages today. The proof is here, drop the needle, enter the world of SSPS.














n G2 1000 Truths Balearic Inaugural Mix

MILK GREY VINYL

100% GALCHER was by all accounts a game-changer when it landed in 2013 as an hour of original music from a relatively unknown producer ushered in by the beloved mix series Blowing Up The Workshop. Galcher Lustwerk's signature sound _ a smoky stream-of-consciousness baritone shadow-boxing with beats, informed by funk, rap, rhythm, and blues _ felt like an epiphany, impossibly hypnotic and complete. Resident Advisor writes, "100% GALCHER laid out a louche, lysergic and resolutely black take on deep house." Pitchfork remembers the music's immediate impact: "It's the sort of gem you felt inclined to pass around" _ and by year-end list time, word-of-mouth intensified. It was Resident Advisor and Juno's mix of the year, and earned a top-ten placement in FACT Magazine's albums list, as well as Philip Sherburne's personal rundown for Spin." Since then, select songs from 100% GALCHER have seen small-run pressings, while the album has lived primarily on SoundCloud and YouTube as a low-key cult legend. The gateway into Lustwerk's now well-established catalog, known for its reliability as a late-night listen and its prophetic vision for the near future of underground dance music. RA would later name it a mix of the decade, citing its influence and imagination: "Original in every sense _ unknown, unheard and unbelievably good." In late 2022, marking ten years since he first recorded the material, Lustwerk returns to Ghostly International to release 100% GALCHER as a remastered limited-edition double LP. Lustwerk is a product of the Midwest. Growing up in Cleveland, he'd tape over his parents' cassettes and spend hours at his family computer recording loops and designing artwork for the jewel cases of burned CDs. In high school, he turned to Ableton Live and absorbed every electronic music magazine he could find at the local Borders Books store. As a college student at RISD, he played in noise bands, plugged into Providence's DIY scene via Myspace, and started DJing weeknights at bars downtown. There he connected with Young Male and DJ Richard, who would go on to found White Material Records and offer their third release to Galcher Lustwerk, an alias realized via CAPTCHA test, a perfect artifact of its internet age. By 2012, Lustwerk had drifted to New York City and settled into a graphic design job, quickly growing disenfranchised by office culture. "Some days I felt like a token, other days I felt invisible." At night, he and his friends were carving out their own space, throwing parties in small basements, office buildings, and off-beat karaoke bars in Manhattan, influenced by series such as Mr. Sunday in Gowanus and The Bunker at Public Assembly. The lifestyle started to bleed into Lustwerk's musical vision. He remembers the night it clicked in Providence, partying and listening to tunes with Morgan Louis and Alvin Aronson. He went back to New York and pieced together his bedroom setup: a Dave Smith Tempest drum machine, a Waldorf Blofeld synthesizer, and a TEAC cassette recorder. Early snippets went straight to SoundCloud, where Lustwerk tested the crowd. Comments and messages offered instant feedback. One DM proved to be the greenlight: from Matthew Kent, an invitation to his burgeoning mix series Blowing Up The Workshop. 100% GALCHER traveled fast and far. A phenomenon he could only enjoy for a short period before discovering that nearly all the masters of the tracks got wiped by water damage to his computer. "The only copies were now on the 192kbs mp3 mix I sent Matt." Until now, after Lustwerk revived the lost tracks and handed them to Josh Bonati for remastering. "The original mix was never mastered so I hope older fans can find something new here." Hearing the enhanced set for the first time delineated by tracklist reveals this was a proper album all along. Sly synth interludes (all titled "Stem") clear the air for raspy house anthems like "Fifty" and "Parlay," the set's original breakout. Themes present across Lustwerk's catalog first materialize in this iconic run _ the link between the meditative state of Midwest driving and the solitary comedowns of nightlife. Lust- werk, the narrator, is an elusive character, a secret agent of the club, embodied by the hooks: "One minute I'm on / next minute I'm gone," he reminds us on cult-favor- ite "Put On." These narcotic, one-line refrains stick with you; look no further than the original YouTube upload of "Kaint" to know that fans can't let these phrases go. While recorded alone, 100% GALCHER was a collective moment. A decade later, Lustwerk sees the legacy as shared: "Making music can be an alienating experience, especially for DJs who travel a lot, it's all super isolating. It's easy to express lone- liness in the music itself, but when it comes down to getting things done, putting music out, you def should go on that journey w other people, friends, or maybe just a group of people online, build things with your friends then they can build to help you."

Sub Pop debut by accomplished Greek artist Σtella, produced by Redinho (Swet Shop Boys).
‘Up And Away’ is an eclectic, compelling modern pop album showcasing Σtella’s skilled songwriting and the influence of classic love songs, Greek folk, and contemporary electronic-music production.

Σtella makes her Sub Pop debut with the mesmerizing ‘Up And Away’, an oldschool pop paean to the pangs and raptures of love. From the Greek folkinflected get-go, we’re swept up in Σtella’s world - and it’s quite the captivating place to be.

The singer songwriter joined forces with artist and producer Tom Calvert (aka Redinho), and it was a match made in Athens; the results are heavenly. Tom caught one of Σtella’s gigs on a visit to the city. He reached out, they started hanging out, and the pair soon clicked creatively. Both mention chemistry when asked about their collaboration and it’s clear, from what we hear, they had it in spades. The meld is seamless.

Σtella’s songs have always riffed on American and Greek mid-century pop but ‘Up And Away’ doubles down on the vintage aesthetic. Tom says he styled the record “as if it was a rare gem from the ’60s found in a box of records in Athens,” and Σtella notes she was ready for a more “deeply Greek touch - it felt comfortable and right, smoothly fusing with the pop.” The bouzouki appears on a full five tracks played by Christos Skondras who, she says, “was brilliant at improvising,” while Sofia Labropoulou on the kanun “brought an insane amount of dreaminess to the last two songs. Having these amazing musicians play for ‘Up And Away’ - I couldn’t be more grateful.”

While not exclusively a confessional artist, Σtella is always intimate - when she sings, it’s personal. She writes “about things I feel passion for. Stories about me, about others, about all that’s there in love and war.” Σtella was “in a very emotional state at the time, which came through in the lyrics and vocals.” And it’s true, her honeyed voice - layered in those unmistakable harmonies of hers - thrillingly runs the gamut from tender to terse, by turns bracing and smitten, aching and forlorn. But it’s the lyrics that feel key. Across her output, Σtella has proven herself a strong storyteller, and ‘Up And Away’ is no exception (the guise of the medieval bard she assumes on the cover is telling). Past releases have been studded with gem-like vignettes - a diverse array of stories set tightly together to form non-linear narratives unified by emotion. Her latest feels singular in that it seems to trace a longer-form tale across songs, with each track escalating the record’s erotic arc.

By the end of the album, ‘Up And Away’s core concerns are clear: the conflicting and conflicted emotions inherent in love, that live on in ways we can’t always understand or control. Love is like this record: when it’s over, you still feel it for time to come.
Loser Edition LP pressed on blue vinyl.

DJ Swagger Minor Major Grand Schemes Nearing that halfway mark into 2022, you'd think Bielefeld's most illustrious producer DJ Swagger would have begun losing steam. Following a successful string of releases throughout the New 20's - consistently solid slabs on Thirty Year Records, ec2a, Timeisnow, plus killer collaborations with LUZ1E as DJ DOOM - the young musician pulls out his second full-length on his own GODDESS MUSIC imprint in the form of a slick, multi-genre double-pack: Minor Major Grand Schemes. MMGS is as much a refinement as it is an expansion of Swagger's stylistic bag of tricks, maneuvering through modern styles of club music, pop sensibilities and sleek production techniques that ticks off boxes for both DJs and casual listeners alike. You got your cheeky intros/interludes and your trap-pop miniatures; dusky UKG street devotionals and bonkers dubstep tools; sexy vocal features, clickity-clack percussion, and biiiig low-end. This is what DJ Swagger says about his new LP: This album is the most DJ Swagger sound yet. It wraps up all my influences from techno over hiphop to breakbeat and IDM. I had such a great time working on this and watching the process. I'm beyond grateful for the features and beautiful people that consistently helped me shape this piece of music. As said this is my very own project on my own label. Probably the largest project I ever started and drove to finish. Minor Major Grand Schemes stands for the balance between objective and subjective reality. Your perception of things mirrors on how you see them, feel them and take them for yourself. Minor major, so to say, important or not-so-important, grand schemes, means that things might get more or less important on how you value them. This is at least what I learned for myself doing a long-term therapy late 2020 into early 2021 against depression and OCD. As my view changed, so did my surroundings. As my surroundings changed, so did my view. I found that to be a really important and crucial lesson on how to deal with fear, anxiety and feelings alike. The toughest thing is to learn how to shift your mind towards another, more positive direction. That might take time, a lot of hard work and a strong will. Be sure that it is okay to ask for help, always. If I didn't get the help I got during my down times, I don't know where I would be now. This is why I decided on that name for this album. Consider yourself important and beautiful at any given time. Have fun and enjoy listening to Minor Major Grand Schemes.

Waves 1 is the rst release of Curd Duca since the legendary Elevator series (1998-2000). Waves is an album trilogy. Waves 2 and 3 will be released on Magazine in 2021.

If we think of Curd Duca’s Waves in terms of sound, rather than in terms of form, each track on Waves is actually like the large, illuminated, richly decorated initial letter that introduces the narrative of so many medieval manuscripts. It is as if Duca was collecting extraordinary letters, opening up an alphabet of sounds, and developing a musical phonetics between adjacent terms. From gong to gone; bell to bells minus drone; dome to father.

The real beauty of Curd Duca’s cycle lies in the fact that it opens up differently from so many perspectives. That we can understand it as a collection of treasures, as a commentary on our acoustic environment, as an attempt to dissect the world and stylize its parts. Much like a printer's typesetting box, Duca proposes an inventory of everything that sounds. Some of the pieces are exaggerations. Some allusions. Others abstractions, parodies, and trans gurations. It is often not even clear whether the music is based on a recording or a synthetic sound. Is the nightjar real or is it a synthetic imitation? Did Duca really use brass and zither sounds or simulate them on the computer? The hermaphroditic nature between reality and arti ciality is a central aspect of Duca’s sound world.

There is only one thing you must not do with this music: trivialize it or underestimate it. With Waves, Duca is exploring the very essence of sound, and its possible meanings and contradictions.

The Land of Look Behind soundtrack returns to vinyl in a remastered and expanded edition that includes a download of three previously unheard and unreleased tracks from the original sessions. Alan Greenberg, who wrote and directed this film documenting the funeral of Bob Marley, provided K. Leimer with location tapes which were used to originate many of the rhythmic patterns for Land of Look Behind. Loops of the monologues and phrases that exhibited more distinctive cadences and pacing, the words, glottal stops, clicks and coughs of witnesses were used as cues for the percussion instruments. In effect, speech became the organizing principle of the musical score. By eliminating the accuracy of click tracks, musicians were prompted to rove through the inconsistent intervals of the voice-derived patterns. Also included is a four-page insert featuring an essay by Paul Dickow.

K. Leimer founded Palace of Lights in 1979. Leimer's early work has recently been reissued by Autumn and RVNG, and his early cassette work is in the critically acclaimed VOD box set American Cassette Culture. Leimer has been actively producing music since the mid 1970s — his current catalog includes seventeen albums plus two collaborative albums with Marc Barreca.

Leimer's work is included in the collection of The British Library.