Search:common sense

On Last Night At Marienbad's latest, the imprint brings together three of the brightest souls found within the realms of Jazz, namely Mauricesax, 9ick and Milan93, with their collective talents synergising effortlessly on 'A Garden Between Us', alongside a stellar cast of remixers who add even further delight between the grooves….

As a genre, Jazz has perhaps lent itself the most to other musical universes, in that its curious heart, endlessly experimental nature, and parameter-defying spirit have wrapped itself deep within the core of countless albums, scenes, and music makers. It's a genre that welcomes reinvention, consistently defying its contents and always reaching out to find new methods of expressionism. Electronic music, in its many forms, has truly embraced Jazz perhaps like no other movement of music has, with a truly astonishing array of records surfacing in the past 40 years which have blended Jazz's unique motifs with grooves, chords, and emotive excellence. From 90s Jazz house and UR Techno, through to Future Jazz, downtempo, and Hip Hop, and around many other suns, there remains such an intrinsic and symbiotic relationship between the two musical realms that caters to those who wish to live music both within and out with themselves.

As practitioners of blending electronica and Jazz, few do it like the trio of Mauricesax, 9ick, and Milan93. All three are known for their distinctive soundscapes, yet share commonalities in terms of musical language, feel, and sense of progression. Bringing them together allows for overlaps in their sounds to emerge, and just like Jazz itself, this is where the intrinsicness of sound begins to blossom. 9ick brings his softly evolving vibe to the table, one which was so prevalent and celebrated on his 2025 album 'SMIL'; Milan93 draws from his focal point of exploring fill-laden grooves and a myriad of emotive sensibilities; and Mauricesax draws up his extensive musicality that exists at the corner of jazz, electronic, and experimental music, along with running musical workshops all over the globe.

'A Garden Between Us' represents the trio's core tenets, with this immediately obvious from the record's opener, 'Rhodora'. A gentle solo piano quickly evolves into a series of powerful rhythmic pulses, with brass lines bringing vitality and feel to proceedings. The track shifts gears with purpose, transitioning between musical vignettes of the highest order, with the synth work doing much to bind the transitions together. 'Tulip' emerges slightly differently, with glossy Rhodes tones and an unravelling rhythmic undercurrent setting an enthralling stage. The track flourishes amongst sweeping textures, coming up for air amongst a deeply hypnotic rhythmic section that holds on and never lets up. 'Honeysuckle' lands next, which sees the trio emerge with a boundless, dynamic soundscape. The drums shift within the undertones, as keys, chords, horns and hip-hop vocal samples dance around the pulse, capturing the imagination with their narrative-like placement. Wrapping up the A side comes 'Camellia'. A dazzling array of harmonic sounds converges around the transfixing rhythm section, which emerges from deep below to lavishly roll out over the midsection, with the delicateness of the instrumentation a real highlight here.

The B side features two exquisite remixes, with Pacific Coliseum's version of 'Tulip' landing first. Beginning with a signature four to the floor to get things going, his careful handling of the source material is seen in the tactful introduction of the blissful elements that made the original cut so impactful, with great focus placed on emotive fidelity. The result is a summer-bound house number that reimagines the original in all the right ways, flipping it into a euphoria-driven jazz-laden pacer that reaches for the heavens as much as it drives right into the heart. Teuteu then showcases their take on 'Honeysuckle', and at 9 minutes long, represents the longest cut on the record - and the experience is all the richer for it. Leaning heavily into dance music flavours, Teuteu shifts perspective totally into the realm of the club, with the walls beating hard to the kicks. The sax lines that drift ethereally up top keep eyes closed and souls full, as the dance shifts into the next phase.

An experience that drifts from the daydreaming, to soul-warming through to the club shaking - what else is left to experience, except for 'A Garden Between Us' and how it will brighten up life itself….

This VA release brings together four producers who share a common language: hypnosis, movement, and an obsessive attention to sound design. Across two sides of vinyl, the record moves through different shades of deep and mental techno, held together by a sense of restraint and clarity rather than force.

Na Nich opens the A-side with a mental yet groove-driven piece, where impeccable sound quality meets a clean, deliberate design. LFO-driven elements float underneath the surface, almost speaking, giving the track a voice of its own without ever breaking its hypnotic hold.

Forest On Stasys follows with a tribal and deep approach that still hits with weight. Shakers and layered percussion drive the movement forward, building a rhythmic body that feels both organic and controlled.
On the B-side, Translate stays true to a purely mental identity: repeating LFOs and speaking tones that fold in on themselves, always kept clean and precise, letting the repetition do the work.

Save Your Atoll & Gabriele Santucci close the record with a deep, tribal-leaning cut full of groove and motion. Bongos, shakers, and background percussion build a danceable hypnosis, where every element serves the movement.

Four tracks, four voices, one shared sense of direction — a record built for the floor, but never at the expense of detail.

Moulded By Industry is William D Drake's six album, his first for ten years and a return to the richly layered sonic texture and epic production of his majestic Briny Hooves. He is joined by long time collaborators James Larcombe, Dean Gaisburgh-Watkyn and Steve Jackson, with the addition of a new crew member, singer Treana Morris. Moving on from his nine years of pianistic and compositional duties in Cardiacs, Drake's solo work has been known for its synthesis of Mellotron-driven grandeur with a surreal playfulness.

But the deep heart of Drake's work is in its powerful evocation of the landscape of the countryside and its connection with love, longing and loss. To this end, his own enigmatic lyrics have rubbed shoulders with poetry drawn from across the centuries. From obscure sources such as Samuel Spree to the poetry of Thomas Hardy and Rupert Brooke, his settings make old words shimmer with human emotion. The texture of his music also reflects an inspirational lack of concern for distances of time. The earthy breath of his harmonium is interwoven with tones teased from archaic instruments by James Larcombe – hurdy-gurdy, dulcitone and melodeon.

But Drake's sound-world is no museum. Here, ancient words and the timbres of ancient instruments become one with the rush of a moment's emotion. Moulded By Industry brings this approach a new sonic depth, intoxicatingly shaded by Treana's lush vocal harmonies and underpinned by Steve's rhythm. Dean's evocative guitar textures give an oceanic sense, tinged with Americana, recalling his work with Drake in their alt country band Nervous. These many layers of sound are drawn together into vivid soundscapes by the painterly mixing of producer Ott. Renowned for his work in electronica and dub, Ott's two decades of experience working with artists such as Sinéad O'Connor, the Orb and Brian Eno bring an organic touch here, more akin to the elemental forces of land and sky than grid electricity. More than any of Drake's previous albums, Moulded By Industry reignites the emotional urgency of old texts. The gorgeous single The Flickering Shade, haunted by glimmers of lost possibilities, is set from words by Thomas Ashe. Turtledove's heady evocation of the blissful madness of love sets the words of an anonymous 17th century ballad. above all, the album is a testament to Drake's love of John Clare, 'The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet'. Clare wrote as the centuries old process of enclosure, in which wild and common land was appropriated commercially, was accelerating.

His works, rather than representing simple sentimentality, are passionate love poems to the landscape and cries from a soul reeling from the creeping unfamiliarity devouring it. This sense of the tension between passion and ill-ease has its most potent expression in Green Shadows. The brooding, slow-tempo energy of Steve's drums drive a horizon-wide lament, alternately lulled by Treana's vocal textures and made restless by James' plaintive hurdy-gurdy and the emotive pull of Dean's slide guitar. The present moment is also a time of enclosure, both metaphorically, as our lives, memories and emotions are drawn into the commercial space of social media, and literally as land and water are swallowed by vast data centre developments. Moulded By Industry celebrates a regained sense of being in the moment in the landscape, in life and in love. The album closes with the utterly delightful single Love In The Universe. The kind of song that could make a cynic use the word 'joyous' without irony, this Harry Nilsson-esque romp reassures us, with a wink, that 'in an infinite universe everything has its place ... even the human race'.

With his last three records all landing within a calendar year (2024-25), enigmatic Swedish producer Civilistjävel! (aka Tomas Bodén) is on a hot streak of releases, his singular vision increasingly ambitious and expansive. There are few artists working at this level so consistently right now, reinventing, revising and continually developing their language. Following on from 2025’s radically re-worked ‘Versions’ (of Mayssa Jallad’s ‘Marjaa…’), Bodén returns to break further fresh ground with his new album, ‘Älvgång’. Featuring contributions from Soccer Committee, Carrier and guest (aka Jabu’s Jasmine Butt), ‘Älvgång’ foregrounds a more brittle and insistent rhythm-based sound, whilst comprising his most broad-ranging collection of material to date.


‘Älvgång’ grew out of a series of sketches made from late ‘24 and throughout the whole of ‘25 at Stockholm’s renowned EMS Studios, which gave Boden free rein to its extensive collection of vintage analogue equipment and rare modular synthesizers such as the Serge and Buchla systems. As a loose framework of tracks began to take shape, so did a reflection of sorts, on family and foundations, underpinned or influenced by sounds that drifted into Tomas consciousness around this time - ancient Swedish pastoral music, Georgian lithurgical chants, gongs, chimes. An idea settled into place, a dedication to his Grandfather, as the earlier release Fyra Platser (tr. ‘Four Places’) was to his Grandmother. Älvgång is grounded with the sense of time and place of an old family photograph, with the tracks over each side bearing one of two names that are more or less the same location - Strinne was the old name for a this loose collection of villages. These days it is more commonly known as Bjärtrå. Metaphorically speaking, the river runs through both.


Civilistjävel! conjures so many adjectives and descriptors, ‘glacial’ and ‘ambient’ frequently among them - but while not altogether untrue, such terms belie the tension and drama so often present in Tomas’ music. Listening to ‘Älvgång’ is not a passive experience. The eight tracks here feel like a patchwork of memories that bathe in the same ethereal, otherworldly glow of Tarkovsky’s polaroids’.


The machine pulses that dominate this landscape are reigned in and tempered by a human hand; lithe, untethered coils, breathing in and out. ‘Strinne Ett’ sets out with purpose, sensing awe and wonder through the murk, but as the final tone unfurls like a question mark, another chapter begins, unfolding/building like a Tarjei Vesaas novel. These lyrical, abstract miniatures combine to reveal a wider context, fragile humanity standing alone against nature.


Guest appearances on Civilistjävel! records have become a regular occurrence (including recent collaborations with Mayssa Jallad, Laila Sakini, Cucina Povera, Thomas Bush, Eldon + Withdrawn), but are used sparingly and with increasing precision. On ‘Strinne Tre’ Mariska Baars’ (Soccer Committee) voice feels like a balm, a clearing. But as her simple, three-word incantation drifts further into fog, the meaning changes, and her words seem to curdle. Carrier’s beats widen the parameters on ‘Strinne Fyra’, a skittering promise that builds tension then refuses to release it; all false starts, Photek gongs, and trinkling modulars. Jabu’s Jasmine Butt pulls all the threads together for the final track, Thomas Tallis’ ghost walking over offset machine impulses, that work against their own symmetry.


Side two begins inquisitively, scanning bleached, alien surroundings, its sparse pads recalling Aphex Twin’s ‘Selected Ambient works Vol 2’. 'Bjärtrå Två’ picks up the baton from ' Strinne Fyra’ with a ruptured Simmons SDS200 analogue drum synth set free from its shackles, the rhythm eventually slotting into the spaces that were hiding in plain sight. What follows seems like an epiphany; ‘Bjärtrå Tre’ is achingly beautiful, a euphoric, winding ascent that leads to devotional plainsong. ‘Bjärtrå Fyra‘s final unheralded shift feels both tragic and haunting.

With BALADA, MoBlack continues this journey through a collection of tracks rooted in Afro House rhythms and Brazilian-inspired influences. Across four distinct productions, the compilation explores the meeting point between percussive energy, expressive vocals and melodic detail, highlighting artists who approach the sound from different angles while sharing a common sense of groove and atmosphere.

2026 Repress.


There is with Tour-Maubourg an eternal desire to translate the feeling of love into music. Sometimes cheerful, sometimes melancholy, always exhilarating, the producer, native of Brussels and expatriate in Paris, has continued for 3 years to attract the praise of his peers and the support of a growing audience. The man who was described by Trax Magazine upon the release of his 1st EP as ‘‘one of the most promising producers of the French house scene’’ has revealed himself in this hyperactive new scene to become one of its best standards.

After several EPs released in France on Pont Neuf, FHUO (ie. Folamour’s label), as well as Happiness Therapy or in England and Germany on FINA and Salin, Tour-Maubourg unveils his first album, Paradis Artificiels. The Parisian producer refers to Charles Baudelaire’s poem, to which he links his melancholy music, who wrote:

‘‘common sense tells us that the things of the earth exist very little, and that the true reality is only in the dreams’’.

If the producer’s first EPs were mainly focused on club music, Paradis Artificiels oscillates between the atmospheres that made the success of these previous releases and those of a studio album. Composed of both house songs and downtempo sound researches, always flirting with the jazz sounds that have made the fame of the producer, this first album invites us on a journey in the lineage of St Germain, Massive Attack or Nicolas Jaar.

Continually presents Norwegian Rave EP (CON007), curated by Tonchius and Rub800.

A rave is never only a location. It is a temporary world built through rhythm, movement and shared energy.

Norwegian Rave captures different moments within that world. A collection of four interpretations connected by a common pulse, moving between peak-time intensity, hypnotic travel, open-ended exploration and the euphoria of the final hours.

A:G opens the record with Vibrations, a high-energy transmission built for the moment when the room reaches its highest point. Lord of ITB follows with Duties, taking the journey deeper through hypnotic patterns and a sense of movement beyond the immediate.

On the B-side, Finn Balansen presents Ketu, opening the space with a more progressive and expansive approach. Ruton closes the release with Rave-O-Lution, a playful and energetic celebration of rave culture—the moment when the night continues into the morning and the memories begin to form.

Norwegian Rave is a collection of moments rather than a definition—a shared frequency moving between individuals, rooms and memories.

Continually.

Guests is the home recording project of Jessica Higgins and Matthew Walkerdine. Vaguely named as such to avoid any problems with the poster if they pull out of a gig (which has only happened once, about a year and half before any songs were actually written to be fair) but also to capture a sense of reverse hospitality. That is, arriving at your door with a bottle of good wine (can’t turn up empty handed) or a fist full of savoury or sweet snacks (time of day dependant); oversharing at the afters (and then passing out on your couch); reading to your toddler while you make their lunch or put everything back where it was meant to go (only to get torn apart again). So, something about what happens when private worlds meet each other, making or having been made a space for. But at times, it’s a different kind of intimacy, a temporal or material one, like the feeling of crisp fresh sheets, and abundant and soft, body-part appropriate towels in a hotel in a city you’ve been to before and love to go back to.

Their debut record, “I wish I was special”, was variously described as “a collage of concrète experiments and outerzone pop gestures, music that sounds as if it’s been written from the depths of a dream”; “music for people who love music but also hate it too”; “something like chasing ghosts or befriending a wild animal”; “pulling apart nervous sensations with haphazard ease and requisite humour”; and “a melody of refusal, of being all-in (…) finding the exact right WRONG sound to express the discontent”. Common Domestic Bird continues in this vein, layering synthesiser, keyboards and samples over rudimentary drum rhythms and field recordings, which are in turn sung or spoken with to create nine new songs.

Written and recorded between autumn 2024 and summer 2025 in Reading, Berkshire, the music has matured since its last outing, in a way, leaning less into collage and more toward structured composition and melodic depth, yet retains a healthy dose of indeterminacy and off-kilter rhythms for the forever-amateur. The songs on Common Domestic Bird hint at some “about”-ness through a series of discrete vignettes which sound a bit like architecture or end of year lists, gossip or over-thinking subjectivity, like disappearances and impressions, the support structure of the spine, letters and signs offs, things you could really do without and where they should go, hoping you’ll see something that isn’t there, pretences and performance. At times they feel kind of funny, others kind of sad or a bit angry and annoyed, a bit like you really.

Detroit original, Terrence Dixon, returns to Tresor Records to kick off 2026 with ‘When Stars Remember’. Despite his thirty-year career, Terrence has always managed to keep a lower profile than his peers; he has given few interviews, preferring instead to speak through his music, with cryptic song titles hinting at the thoughts swirling around their creation.
However, ‘When Stars Remember’ finds him stepping forward. “I wanted to get closer to the dancefloor. I consciously made this one feel louder…made with Tresor specifically in mind.” And the EP does just that: whilst many of the hall marks of a Terrence Dixon production are present, the drums are more forward; the synth arpeggios so bold that ‘monumental’ seems a better descriptor than ‘minimal’.
“I put three or four sounds together on the same track, layering to make something bigger”, he says of opening track ‘Mono Collapse’, though the statement could apply to any of the music appearing on the release as all four pieces fold in sonics to create something hypnotic; more than the individual parts: “If you stick with the same layered tones, and repeat it over, after a while your brain changes it on its own; you hear a lot of things: things that you didn’t notice at first, things that maybe aren’t even there.”
The absence of things is another main theme of the EP, especially what Dixon sees as ‘The Forgotten’, a group of fundamental principles like common sense, trust, loyalty, honesty and respect that are missing from modern life. “This world is different…the love is gone. But I love everybody, man. I think, secretly, everybody love everybody, but they just don’t know it.”

Two fabulous jazzy rhythm'n'blues/popcorn tunes back to back on one 45!

Limited to 200 copies.

"Forastero translates to “outsider” or “foreigner”. It is a common reference in Argentina folk music that describes the experience of immigrants and troubadours - bringing up feelings of isolation and solitude, but also the freedom of roaming in nature without borders. It reflects Selasco’s experience as an immigrant - feeling like an outsider both in the United States or Argentina, yet at the same feeling that there is a deeper sense of belonging to the world that is beyond borders.

In Forastero, Terror/Cactus explores themes of identity, memory, perception, and mysticism. Featuring collaborations with artists such as Pahua, Rumbo Tumba, Barrio Lindo, and Corina Lawrence, Forastero encompasses a musical landscape filled with electronic folk, dark cumbia, and psychedelic beats."

J Hus is back with his highly anticipated third album ‘Beautiful And Brutal Yard’, preceded by the raucous street track ‘It’s Crazy’ which charted Top 15 and ‘Who Told You’ (featuring Drake) which debuted at #2 with the 3rd highest UK week 1 singles sales of the year and Hus’ highest single chart to date.

‘B.A.B.Y.’ is the follow-up to his chart-topping album ‘Big Conspiracy’ which earned him the Best Male Award at the Brits and his Top 10 platinum debut ‘Common Sense’ which won an NME award and was nominated for the Mercury Music Prize and Best Album at the Brits.

Fans have come to expect a range of influences and musical styles from Hus’ albums and they will not be disappointed. Across ‘B.A.B.Y’ Hus incorporates elements of afrobeats, drill, R&B and bashment, all delivered in his inimitable lyrical style. The album includes features from Drake, Burna Boy, Jorja Smith, Popcaan and Naira Marley as well as from UK up and comers CB, Villz and Boss Belly.

Having not played his own live shows since 2017 J Hus is announcing a UK Arena tour on Thursday 29th June.

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

“Ruins are the style of our future cities, future cities are themselves ruins.” - Izosaki Arata

A note from Lawrence English: Nostalgia is not an ideology, though in this moment, we could be mistaken for thinking it might be just that. Over the past years, the idea of nostalgia has been filtered through various political and technological lenses and has become a tool used for forgetting, rather than remembering. Instead of embracing histories’ complexities and inconsistencies, this version of nostalgia seeks only singular recollection. This contemporary phenomenon of nostalgia has become a methodology at best, and a weapon at worst, used to erode the past and project forward a collapsed and unimaginably sanitised version of things, places, and ways of being from former times. It’s this projection that sees it playing a mounting role in a social pathology associated with reducing the imagined possibilities of future.

The Rest Is My Ghost is a record that interrogates the manifestations of this reductive futuring and celebrates those that have tried (and failed), and those who continue to push back against decayed and revisionist positions. It’s a record that considers the weaponisation of nostalgia for the purposes of cloaking possible futures.

In recent times, I’ve proposed a term for this weaponised use of nostalgia, something I have called Acid Nostalgia. I offer it as a shorthand to describe the de-contouring of the future through a corrosive fixation on a flatten rendering of the preceding times. It is, in part, a certain type of lazy cultural scripting where tropes of the past are presented in the absolute, as empty pictorials; photocopies without any original from which to draw actual meaning, or useful detail.

Acid Nostalgia describes an increasingly common political projection of nostalgia that exists without any subjective connection to the memory surrounding and contained within it. Like acid poured onto a surface, this use of nostalgia seeks to erodes and smooth out the complexity and texture of lived connection and longing, which has until recently guided contemplations of nostalgia. Acid Nostalgia instead erases the texture of histories and de-contours the past, and in doing so dematerialises the horizon of possibility, which by its very nature marks the beginning point for any (and all) imaginable futures. Acid Nostalgia is a dreamless screen, where uncertainty, restlessness and aspiration are subjected to corrosion, breaking down and neutralising the wellspring of futures which are birthed from within the ambiguously charged, complex and at times chaotic atmospheres of the present.

The Rest Is My Ghost is not however some universal reading of these things and happenings. Rather it draws its breath from a very personal pathway carved through my own fraught experiences of nostalgia and framed through a disparate collage of chance encounters, situations, places and provocations. It takes oblique notes from civic and architectural references such as Japan’s Metabolist movement, Hong Kong’s ‘one line sky’ and Los Angeles’s vanished Sodium Vapour lights. It interpolates texts – factual and fictional – by authors such as Franco Berardi, Kate Crawford, JG Ballard, Katsuhiro Otomo, Mark Fisher and Alexei Yurchak who have each so wonderfully sought to rupture the familiarity of now, and push us towards other ways of imaging ourselves, our surroundings and our very ways of being in this world.

I also owe a debt of thanks to Adam Curtis in helping launch what has become this edition. It was his provocation, in a conversation we shared about an overwhelming and profound sense of uncertainty around being able to predict the immediate future and how to respond to that, which sparked the earliest inklings of this edition.

The Rest Is My Ghost is ultimately a record about the promise of constructions and connections to come, material, social and political. It's a record that accepts the fragility of failure as a source of ultimate potential, and a position from which the deepest freedom of imagination might be sought and summoned forth to conjure even the most unimaginable, (but) possible futures.

The recordings on Volume II were captured in Copenhagen, Denmark on January 18, 2020. Guided as much by human instinct as by musical intention, the ensemble moved through the evening with a shared sensitivity…listening, responding, and trusting the moment as it unfolded. Though Morten McCoy admits to having felt quite ill that evening, nothing in the music suggests restraint. Instead, what remains is a vivid, playful exchange, where McCoy and Johannes Wamberg carry both Part I and Part II as a flowing conversation, speaking through sound rather than words.

Part I begins abruptly, almost throwing the listener back in time to the exact moment the improvisation was born. Jonathan Bremer steps to the forefront, providing a solid, melodic bassline as Kristoffer and Eliel, perfectly in sync, lay down a steady foundation for whichever voice chooses to rise above the rhythm.

This is also one of the few I Am An Instrument recordings to feature two guitarists. Johannes Wamberg leads the way, shaping the harmonic direction, while Steven Jess Borth II adds subtle rhythmic textures through muted palm work, deepening the groove without ever stepping into the foreground.

Part II unfolds with Morten McCoy on his Moog One, delivering a beautiful, expansive solo. Using a carefully chosen patch, the sound pulses through the rhythm, moving with the groove rather than above it, riding the beat like a wave through the ocean.
Shaped by trust, presence, and collective improvisation, Volume II captures a group deeply attuned to one another, allowing intuition and momentum to guide the unfolding form.
——
Volume III was recorded in Copenhagen on March 5, 2020. Little did anyone know that only days later, the world would be placed on pause for years. Captured just before that moment of global stillness, this session carries a heightened sense of presence, a final gathering before silence reshaped everything. Recorded in a space more commonly associated with a club atmosphere, the music draws on a different kind of energy and immediacy. With Eliel Lazo unable to attend, the group invited Victor Dybbroe of Girls In Airports to join on percussion, subtly reshaping the ensemble while preserving its core spirit. Part I opens with Steven Jess Borth II calling out on tenor saxophone, answered by Morten McCoy on Wurlitzer electric piano. The piece gradually unfolds into a meditative groove, patient and expansive, carrying the listener through an eight-minute journey of layered rhythm and restraint.

Part II begins with Jonathan Bremer on stand up bass, slowly joined by the rest of the ensemble as each voice enters with intention. Midway through, an unexpected vocal melody from Borth emerges, drenched in reverb and delay, later reappearing as a melodic line on the tenor saxophone.

Part III is led by Morten McCoy on Wurlitzer electric piano. His signature melodic language sets the direction, guiding the ensemble while leaving ample space for the music to breathe and evolve through collective improvisation. Reprise returns to the closing moments of Part II, its title reflecting its origin. The familiar groove reappears, transformed into a distinctly Jamaican-influenced rhythm, over which Borth delivers a final tenor saxophone solo, bringing the conversation to rest.

Any questions about any of these products feel free to get in touch and we'll help you out!

a a1. Part I [Vol.2]
[b] a2. Part II [Vol.2]
[c] a3. Part I [Vol.3]
[d] b1. Part II [Vol.3]
[e] b2. Part III [Vol.3]
[f] b3. Reprise [Vol.3]

For some time now, followers of Field Medic have been piecing together clues about Floral Prince. The name has been mentioned in late night Twitter hints, secret YouTube leaks, teaser riddles, Instagram live sets, and standalone single drops. This unconventional approach paints a bigger picture for the 11-track project as a whole, set for release October 2nd from Run For Cover Records. Part mixtape, part album, part collection, part musical patchwork quilt, Floral Prince is the latest offering from Field Medic, aka the preeminent Bay Area freak folk artist Kevin Patrick Sullivan. It’s a reflection of his unique approach to songwriting and a creative drive that can’t be contained to the traditional album format. Field Medic’s songwriting rarely slows down; even after the release of his 2019 full-length fade into the dawn and the busy touring schedule that followed, Sullivan still found himself flush with new songs and ideas. As he attempted to earmark certain songs for his next release Sullivan began to chafe at the pressures of a follow-up album. Longing for the spontaneity of Field Medic’s earlier work, Sullivan found inspiration in what he calls the “full-time freestyle” mindset where he writes and records songs on the fly with a four-track, usually with a self-imposed limit of three takes. “This style lends itself to more off-the-cuff lyrics and recordings that communicate their point much clearer to my ears,” he explains. “It’s also fun.”

The process proved surprisingly satisfying, often capturing the diary-like nature of Sullivan’s songwriting more accurately than some of the music he’d been poring over. “The songs born from this method aren’t always ‘hits,’ he says. “But they feel much more important to me…closer to how I really feel.” Some of these charming homespun missives made their way onto the internet, spurring fans to follow the breadcrumbs towards these first glimpses into Floral Prince and the ever-expanding Field Medic mythology. “I realized the songs I was saving for another album were much less focused and effective than some of the freestyles I had been creating and subsequently leaking,” Sullivan says. “I think that’s because I really enjoyed the process of writing and recording the freestyles, whereas the ‘hits’ I was attempting to make were being approached as more of a chore.” Floral Prince officially began to see the light of day through a series of stand-alone singles released throughout early 2020 in tandem with episodes of Sullivan’s homemade webseries, the field medic show. To invite fans further into Field Medic’s unique world of achingly beautiful melodies and conversational lyricism, songs like the atmospheric ballad “better way” and the Alex Menne (pickleboy/Great Grandpa) collaboration “talkin johnny & june (your arms around me)” were shared alongside the YouTube show’s accompanying live versions. Other tracks—like rousing opener “-h-o-u-s-e-k-e-y-z-” and the longing “i want you so bad it hurts”—were repurposed from the fade into the dawn sessions to finally find a home on Floral Prince. Elsewhere “it’s so lonely being sober” exemplifies the unvarnished appeal of the full-time freestyle attitude. The song’s direct lyrics and single-take phone recording preserve the deeply personal storytelling, relatable details, and palpable emotions that make Field Medic’s work so intimate and enthralling.

Although Floral Prince is culled from several years of Field Medic songs, its 11 tracks have a sense of cohesion that can be attributed to Sullivan’s singular vision and willingness to allow the listener into his life. “These songs were written through different seasons of my life but they all share a common theme of quiet, nagging, yet somehow defiant insecurity,” he explains. “To hear them all grouped together reminds me that I’ve always felt more or less the same way, and have had the same obsessive tendencies my whole life that have often led to self-destructive behavior. Maybe this is catharsis.” In the end Floral Prince is actually many things at once: a snapshot of an artist shaking off the perceived boundaries of his medium; a document of years of Sullivan’s life preserved in musical form; the closing of one songwriting chapter and the start of another. Or perhaps as Sullivan puts it, “All songs have their day…”

Mildred have announced their debut album Fenceline (out 24 April via Memorials of Distinction / Dog Day Records), they have also shared the Nick Roberts directed video for lead single ‘Fish Sticks’. Speaking of ‘Fish Sticks’ and the album, Mildred say: “Fish Sticks is a song of scenes from two worlds. Conversations with your boss. Acute workplace mediocrity. Riding home and eating fish sticks with your friends. For UK audiences, a fish stick is a fish finger, ideally Alaskan-caught cod. The song comes packaged in Fenceline, an album about conversations with old friends, little cousins, ceaseless piles of dust in your crumbling duplex, loves and theologians and their books. Fencelines mark two places but belong to neither. Neither nor, either or.”
Ahead of Fenceline, at the end of last year Mildred released their debut twin EPs mild and red, an insatiable collection of songs birthed before Mildred even knew they were a band. Arriving purposefully on the scene in that gentle, approachable Mildred way, the EPs picked up support from The Guardian, The Line of Best Fit, Uncut (‘We’re New Here’), The New Cue, Clash, DIY and more. Mildred is a band from Oakland, CA of four equal parts. They don’t have a lead singer, no one person writes the songs. The songs that make up Fenceline come together as a group with their genesis sprouting from any one of their members - Henry Easton Koehler (vocals, guitar), Jack Schrott (vocals, guitar), Matt Palmquist (vocals, bass, woodwinds) or Will Fortna (drums, production) - each time.

The songs are often wrestled from the lead writer by the other three, a lyric might have been mumbled absentmindedly for a few days before one of the other three grabs at it. Summed up neatly by Clash “imagine if Pavement went Americana and you’d be close”, Mildred make music that is pure and poetic, gently addictive and never overwrought. The lyrics for their songs are written largely alone and often draw from their own individual lives and experiences but there’s a shared something there. “It makes sense when common threads emerge” they say, “because we do things together a lot as friends: cook, laze about on a weekend, listen to an album, go walkabout, read, go see movies etc.
Strikingly literal or intriguingly oblique, Mildred have a remarkable way with lyrics that lodge themselves in your head softly but with such determination that they begin to feel like shimmering memories from your own life. Fenceline is a collection of songs that you want to hold close and delve into, and yet play to everyone you know.

Welcoming prolific and essential Mexican artist Andy Martin to Animalia, with his mesmerising, mind-bending musical interpretation of the Nahual, a common & integral figure of the belief systems of ancient Indigenous peoples of the Americas, which embodies the spiritual connection between humans & animals. In some traditional stories, this connection is so strong that they are said to transform into one of them. Tierra de Nahuales refers to a region of ancient America inhabited by these mythological beings, which in this EP become part of the Animalia universe, shaped by psychedelic broken rhythms, tribal sounds, and dub influences. A release that feels both deeply personal to Andy's musical & cultural identity as well as the label's own - a telling ode to the abilities of the depth & outer worldly sense to his music - a world-building, shapeshifting & one of a kind artist who feels truly at home in the Animalia family.

Intimacy is manifested in every moment of Radiator, the debut album from Philadelphia's Sadurn. This feeling of closeness, of being able to lend your every sense to one's confessions of internal conflict, is due in large part to the circumstances under which this album was created. Much of the world fell apart in 2020, but Sadurn tucked themselves away in a Pocono's cabin, creating and recording what would become their first full-length. Within the confines of their close quarters, passing animals as the only auditory witness to a makeshift recording studio created by moving furniture, Sadurn created an album that will break your heart and then slowly piece it back together.Sadurn started as the solo project of Genevieve ??DeGroot. Picking up guitar in 2015, DeGroot started writing songs, eventually playing DIY shows throughout the city of Philadelphia. With time, the direction, sound, and members of Sadurn changed. The beginning of 2020 was meant to serve as their debut as a four member band (Jon Cox on guitar/tenor guitar, Tabita Ahnert on bass, and Amelia Swan on drums), but the world had other plans and the group adapted.Taking influence from artists like Gillian Welch, Alex G, and Jason Molina, Sadurn's emotive indie rock explores the struggles and eventual beauty of grappling with multiple emotional realities, particularly when it comes to relationships. That conflict, the idea of being forced to choose, even when terrified, is present on singles like "Radiator" and "Golden Arm." The latter is an unhurried ballad that shows its truest colors with time, eventually blossoming with unexpected admissions of desire and uncertainty. Indecision, heartbreak, and attempting to live out your days against the actual backdrop of a gradually worsening hellscape is a shared commonality among us all, but on Radiator Sadurn breaks down walls that others so often put up. It's a fleeting, impactful glimpse at one's whole heart, and its sweeping, special nature is evident from the moment the album opens.

These two very different sessions involving John Surman and Mike Osborne have much in common. They both share a wonderful sense of liberation, of the joy of making music together and of finding collectively new ways of making jazz happen. And even more importantly, they speak volumes about the eclecticism and openness of British jazz in those years of the mid- to late-sixties and about the creative ambitions of John Surman. In the current absence in the market of his first LP, this is an essential purchase for Surman fans. Notes by Duncan Heining with suggestions from John Surman. These sessions have never previously appeared officially in any form.
Side One 26.2.67 - Mike Osborne (as), John Surman (ss, bs), Harry Miller (b), Alan Jackson (d) - Side Two 17.7.68 - Sterling Betancourt for Alan Jackson and add Russ Henderson (p)

Bristol experimental band SUGAR HORSE are delighted to announce that their third album, Not A Sound In Heaven, will be released on 10th April 2026 via Fat Dracula Records.

To celebrate the news, the band are sharing the bruising lead single ‘Secret Speech’, available to stream on all good digital service providers from 12th February 2026.

Also announced today are a run of April 2026 UK album headline tour dates and an appearance at StrangeForms Festival 2026, with tickets on sale now (see below for full listings).

“We are fortunate enough to live in what is generally known as ‘The West’,” says front man Ash Tubb of the lyrical themes behind the new track. “I say fortunate with gritted teeth, because I know—as I’m sure the reader knows—that living in the West isn’t always rosy. The vast majority of people struggle everyday to feed, clothe and house themselves. Let alone receive adequate healthcare, schooling and workers’ rights.”

“We are, however, where all the world’s wealth is hoarded. We are at the centre of Empire. The people outside of this empire—those of the Global South—have had their resources extracted and their populations exploited by our own governments, with very little given back in return. This won’t go on forever. It will inevitably end, as all great empires do.”

“We in The West have a choice to make in the meantime; either help create a new, fairer world, or let the greed of our ruling classes become the undoing of all of us.”

The first glimpse of new material from the quartet, ‘Secret Speech’ starts as Not A Sound In Heaven means to go on—a politically-charged wrecking ball of a song that smashes its way through the often unbelievable chaos and brutality of the 21st century with vitriolic malice.

How do you capture the machinations of the geo-political industrial war machine—and all the horrors that go with it—in the studio, without seeming trite or crass? That’s the question that Sugar Horse have posed themselves on their forthcoming third album Not A Sound In Heaven, and they must surely be one of the only bands in existence capable of delivering on just that premise with both musical substance and cutting philosophical insight.

“Ever since I was born I can remember visions of war, famine, and death being beamed directly into my living room via the magic of television,” says Tubb of the record. “These visions were accompanied by newsreader narratives designed to either humanise or dehumanise the people involved. We humanise our government’s allies and dehumanise their enemies. This is taken as common sense, or even wisdom to some degree. People watch the news and accept it as fact, simple and true.”

“As a person gets older they move in one of three different directions with this acceptance of reality; They embrace what they’re being told, they fall into a kind of trust free nihilism or they learn that there are deeper narratives at play.”

“Not A Sound In Heaven is an aged acceptance of the latter. An acceptance of sitting at the centre of a global empire of both military and economic dimensions. An acceptance that the stories we’re told as a nation, or what’s generally in the zeitgeist, isn’t necessarily reality itself.”

“How does a person cope with the weight—and, frankly, the guilt—of a society that perpetuates such distinct inequalities? A society that thinks a bit of killing abroad is fine, as long as it improves the lives of people at home. You can see why so many choose to embrace it. Hell, nihilism seems pretty sensible. Once a person decides upon pursuing a degree of truth however, things get a bit depressing. Beyond depressing...maddening.”

“This album explores this kind of breezy, frivolous subject matter in a manner that will no doubt be uplifting to the listener and massively financially rewarding for the artist.”

The new album follows on from their standalone AA single ‘What’s Your ETA? Let’s Have A Tear Up’/‘Would You Like Me To Be The Cat?’ which was released late last year as a surprise double drop.

From the cold North of Sweden, NORNA and LEGBITER deliver a six-track document of contrast, convergence, and uncompromising heavy music. Bringing together two distinct voices, the release explores the many shapes heaviness can take_stretching from crushing, slow-moving atmospheres to sharp, volatile bursts of aggression. Formed by musicians with deep roots in the European underground, Norna approach heaviness as a vehicle for emotional gravity. Their sound is expansive and deliberate, built on massive low-end, tectonic rhythms, and an acute sense of restraint. Legbiter approach heavy music as direct, confrontational, and unrelentingly physical. Rooted in hardcore and metal's most ferocious intersections, the band thrives on immediacy and impact. Legbiter compress time, delivering short, explosive bursts that hit with the force of a live wire. Their sound is lean, aggressive, and unapologetically raw. "Even though we sound very different sonically I think we all have a lot of common ground, not only in being parts of the 90's scenes, but also musically in the somewhat dissonant and harsh guitar parts", says Legbiter guitarist (Rickard Nordström. "Personally, I love splits with bands that don't sound exactly the same, but share some common traits and vibes." "Contrast is everything, we have always tried to flow between despair and beauty. Dynamics are important to us. This split will give you that contrast", comments Norna guitarist and vocalist and former Breach vocalist Tomas Liljedahl. FOR FANS OF Handsome * Quicksand * Fireside * Breach * Helmet * Superheaven * Narrowhead * Metz

Released in 1967, Open marked a bold debut for Brian Auger & The Trinity, featuring the dynamic vocals of Julie Driscoll. Music and its makers were rapidly evolving in ‘67, the UK's Jazz and R&B scenes were being influenced by pop and psychedelia and socially, musicians of many styles found common ground in London’s clubs like The Cromwellian and The Scotch Of St James where the The Beatles, US legends Wilson Pickett and Jimi Hendrix mingled with the capitals jazzers and pop stars, often loudly jamming together in even louder 'Lord Byron' shirts. 'Open' fully embraced this spirit by fusing together those genres and attitudes of the era. From the outset Auger displays his jazz rooted approach on the A side with 'In and Out' and 'Isola Natale' (later covered by one of his American jazz heroes Richard ‘Groove’ Holmes). Both showcase the Trinity's musicianship and Brian's improvisational flair. Auger himself takes on vocal duties on the raucous ‘Black Cat’, a track that became a club hit. Open is marked by its eclecticism; 'Lament for Miss Baker' is a tender, piano ballad influenced by Duke Ellington, reflecting Auger’s jazz and classical influences whilst 'Goodbye Jungle Telegraph' is a wild and crazy percussive freak out. Brian displayed not only his virtuosity but also his surrealist sense of humour with bizarre sound effects, inspired by Spike Milligan's The Goons' radio show interspersed between the tracks.

Julie Driscoll’s arrival on the album’s B side brings a sharp shift in tone. Her smoky, emotive vocals inject a soulful depth, notably on covers of Otis Redding & Carla Thomas hit 'Tramp', Aretha's 'Save Me' and The Staples Singers ‘Why Am I Treated So Bad". With original numbers 'Break It Up' and 'A Kind Of Love In' we hear the Auger / Driscoll pop infused R&B at its very best, whilst the version of Donovan’s 'Season of the Witch' stretches out into a slow-burning epic. In 2025, Open is viewed as a cult classic and testament to a unique period when genre boundaries were fluid and artistic risk-taking was the norm. Brian Auger & The Trinity’s debut captures the adventurous energy of the late 1960s. 58 years later, its importance in the development of British jazz fusion and progressive bands that followed is undeniable, with The Charlatans Tim Burgess recently commenting on Auger's Instagram that The Trinity were a 'huge influence'.

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

From the opening notes – arriving as if in mid-air – to its final, cheerful burblings, Sean Mac Erlaine and Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh’s Old Segotia is an album about friendship: both musical and human, the product of two distinctive musicians visiting each other’s worlds with a sense of veneration, and a sense of joyful wonder.
Here, Mac Erlaine (This is How We Fly, Quiet Music Ensemble) and Ó Raghallaigh (The Gloaming, This is How We Fly) meet on common ground developed over 20 years of playing together, with Mac Erlaine’s musical language rooted in jazz and sonic experimentation, and Ó Raghallaigh emerging from an Irish traditional music that he has shaped and reshaped in a deeply personal way.
In this place, Mac Erlaine and Ó Raghallaigh’s music is profoundly integrated and emotionally textured: at times bursting with explosive energy, at times almost sighing into life, but always searching. Here are the touching unison duets of ‘Cantandor’, the lyrical wanderings of ‘Swallow Dive’, or the flirtations with finding a groove in ‘Reverse Burst’.
The palette of instruments speaks to the album’s feeling of abundance, with Mac Erlaine performing on clarinets, chalumeau d’amore, three different flutes, car hooter, percussion, live electronics, Wurlitzer, synthesiser, vocals and alto saxophone; and with Ó Raghallaigh bringing his signature hardanger d’amore sound plus a turn on the flute and live electronics, too.
With the title echoing a well-worn Dublinese expression for “friend”, Old Segotia plays out with ‘Oiche Crua Sna Sleibhte’ (A Hard Night in the Mountains), with ornithologist Seán Ronayne’s field recordings of birdsong rising out of the musicians’ playful explorations, offering a taste of life echoing music, echoing life.

Swiss artist Lukas Traxel releases his powerful debut album One-Eyed Daruma on We Jazz Records, March 10. The trio features Traxel on double bass, Otis Sandsjö on sax and Moritz Baumgärtner on drums. Compact, deep, and organic to the bone, Traxel & co's sound echoes the innovations of rhythmically driven avantgarde jazz while keeping things moving at all times. There's both drive and freedom to this sound.
ONe-Eyed Daruma features eight new compositions by Traxel, who crafted the outline for the album while dealing with the loss of his father. The group came together after an open invitation from the Zurich jazz club Moods to present a new group. The trio of Traxel, Sandsjö and Baumgärtner creates a full, symphonic, and powerful body of sound despite the instrumentation without a harmony instrument. The trio functions as a collective where the boundaries between composition, melody, and accompaniment are in flux, while keeping the common goal of creating new music together in sight at all times. Traxel reports that after playing bass in various groups with guitar and/or piano, he wanted to create a counterpoint of sorts with his new group and specifically go about it with a more sparse setup. As One-Eyed Drama proves, the idea behind the trio dynamic is a strong one and the unit makes use of their extra space in creating evocative, moody, swinging creative jazz with a distinguishable fingerprint of its own.
Lukas Traxel says:

"The process of composing this music while dealing with the loss of a loved one resulted in a writer's block at first. The notes would just not flow out of my pen until I noticed a mysterious-looking figure in the right upper corner of my piano. It was a daruma, an eyeless figure that in the Japanese tradition brings luck and prosperity. According to the myth, the first eye must be drawn onto the figure while expressing a wish. The second eye can be added only if the wish comes true. My daruma is meant to stay one-eyed as my wish, strongly connected and intertwined with my now gone father, is not meant to be fulfilled. The feeling of unfulfillment and imperfection of life serves as a common thread throughout this album, right down to its title. In a similar fashion, a composition remains incomplete until it is interpreted by musicians, and given form as music. That being said, for me playing together with this trio symbolises the upside: the sense of fulfillment in music and life.

Our musical influences include the American composer and singer Caroline Shaw, Swiss pianist Colin Vallon's trio, and composer/singer-songwriter Gabriel Kahane. In addition, I have listened a lot to the trio albums of Jimmy Guiffre and Sonny Rollins. Besides that, my musical heroes like Charlie Haden, John Coltrane, and Keith Jarrett always flow into the music. Another very important influence in the music is the work of American visual artist Agnes Martin, in whose works the imperfection of a multiplicity of repetitions results in a lively big whole in the end. (See "Wild Flower")

Live, the trio takes a lot of freedom in interpreting this music, yet we have a deeper, almost pop-like attitude towards the live performance as an experience. For me it's always important to build a strong narrative with the band while on stage."

One-Eyed Daruma by Lukas Traxel is released on 10 March 2023 by We Jazz Records on LP/CD/digitally. The LP edition is shelved in an inside-out sleeve and pressed on white vinyl. The CD is housed in a cardboard digisleeve with UV lacquer finish.

Una interpretación de Soinuarenbidea II debería partir de esta premisa: todo es posible, nada es aleatorio, y en sí mismo es un imposible de aleatoriedades. El escenario planteado explora la idea de realidad aumentada desde una percepción sonora, ambiental y colectiva. La obra transita hacia adelante y hacia atrás recreando experiencias extintas de porvenir incierto, tratando de facilitar un fin pacificador. Cada pieza sonora se crea, se despliega, se repliega y se destruye, en una torsión permanente de toda la realidad que hace posible cada fragmento musical, cada identidad acústica, cada espacio sonoro. Lo onírico, la ficción, y el viaje están continuamente presentes, y es en el transitar de cada fragmento donde se produce el diálogo de la exposición musical. Los elementos de esta ficción se recrean continuamente, en un continuum donde se entrelazan y se van contorsionando a medida que crecen o decrecen con cada fragmento de síntesis concreta. Los temas explícitamente musicales son el magma que conduce a dar voluptuosidad al disco, siendo la piel un contexto o límite que en sí mismo fluctúa indefinidamente en texturas y configuraciones posibles. Y la urdimbre del silencio es la síntesis que está continuamente presente y que trata de cohesionar los fragmentos en continua colisión expresiva. Las grabaciones de campo proporcionan el material sonoro concreto, y como un fractal sonoro cada una de ellas ofrece diferentes grados de interpretación que a su vez conduce a nuevos fragmentos y nuevas creaciones. Así que se puede pensar que esta es una síntesis de una posible realidad, pero interpretable en infinidad de maneras. Un movimiento y una estaticidad implícitas que generan estructuras y dinámicas acústicas. Lo que se escucha no es real, pero en sí mismo forma parte de la realidad, creando un escenario expectante. Lo cinematográfico, plástico y teatral, danzante y dinámico cobra importancia en este juego, porque se trata de contar una historia, una experiencia recreada desde los puntos de vista del arte visual. Es a su vez hilo conductor y entretenimiento, discurso político y puro divertimento. Es desde este espacio de convivencia artística que tiene sentido la totalidad y justifica el formato sonoro planteado. La contradicción de la obra es patente en el formato, y es a su vez el planteamiento de una accidentalidad en el devenir vital. Contenedor de Ruido recoge todas estas contradicciones y las manifiesta en la obra Soinuarenbidea II. Es una historia sonora, es un cuento acústico. Es un fragmento de vitalidad en imágenes audibles. Es una invitación a la reflexión, a la crítica, al disfrute, a la meditación, a la celebración. Y sobre todo es esperanzadora apreciación de la realidad como algo maleable que confeccionamos colectivamente, que requiere de una paciente observación y la participación colectiva global, en un mundo finito pleno de diversidades y del que ignoramos prácticamente todo, al que deberíamos volver con respeto y devoción.

Soinuarenbidea II-ren interpretazio batek premisa honetatik abiatu beharko luke: dena da posible, ezer ez da ausazkoa, eta, berez, ausazkotasun ezinezko bat da. Planteatutako agertokiak errealitate areagotuaren ideia aztertzen du, soinu-, ingurumen- eta talde-pertzepzio batetik abiatuta. Lanak aurrera eta atzera egiten du, etorkizun zalantzagarriko esperientzia desagertuak birsortuz eta helburu baketsua lortzen saiatuz. Soinu-pieza bakoitza sortu, hedatu, tolestu eta suntsitu egiten da, musika-zati bakoitza, identitate akustiko bakoitza eta soinu-espazio bakoitza ahalbidetzen dituen errealitate osoaren etengabeko bihurdura batean. Onirikoa, fikzioa eta bidaia etengabe daude presente, eta pasarte bakoitzaren joan-etorrian gertatzen da musika-erakusketaren elkarrizketa. Fikzio honen elementuak etengabe birsortzen dira, continuum batean, non sintesi zati zehatz bakoitzarekin hazi edo txikitu ahala elkar lotzen eta bihurritzen diren. Esplizituki musikalak diren gaiak diskoari atsegintasuna ematera eramaten duen magma dira, azala testuingurua edo muga izanik, testura eta konfigurazio posibleetan mugarik gabe aldatzen dena. Eta isiltasunaren irazkia etengabe presente dagoen sintesia da, zatiak etengabeko adierazpen-talkan kohesionatzen saiatzen dena. Landa-grabazioek soinu-material zehatza ematen dute, eta soinu-fraktal batek bezala, horietako bakoitzak interpretazio-maila desberdinak eskaintzen ditu, eta horrek, aldi berean, zati eta sorkuntza berrietara eramaten du. Beraz, pentsa daiteke errealitate posible baten sintesia dela, baina hamaika modutan interpreta daitekeena. Egitura eta dinamika akustikoak sortzen dituzten mugimendu eta estatikotasun inplizitu bat. Entzuten dena ez da erreala, baina, berez, errealitatearen parte da, eta agertoki espektakularra sortzen du. Zinematografikoak, plastikoak eta antzerkikoak, dantzariak eta dinamikoak garrantzia hartzen dute joko honetan, ikusizko artearen ikuspegitik birsortutako istorio bat, esperientzia bat, kontatzea baita helburua. Aldi berean, hari gidaria eta entretenimendua da, diskurtso politikoa eta dibertimendu hutsa. Elkarbizitzarako espazio artistiko honetatik osotasunak zentzua du eta planteatutako soinu-formatua justifikatzen du. Obraren kontraesana nabarmena da formatuan, eta, aldi berean, bizi-bilakaeran istripu-tasa bat planteatzea da. Zarata-edukiontziak kontraesan horiek guztiak jasotzen ditu eta Soinuarenbidea II obran adierazten ditu. Soinu istorio bat da, ipuin akustiko bat. Bizitasun zati bat da, irudi entzungarrietan. Hausnarketarako, kritikarako, gozamenerako, meditaziorako eta ospakizunerako gonbidapena da. Eta, batez ere, itxaropentsua da errealitatea modu kolektiboan egiten dugun gauza xaflakor gisa hautematea, behaketa pazientea eta partaidetza kolektibo globala eskatzen dituena, dibertsitatez betetako mundu mugatu batean, ia guztia kontuan hartzen ez duguna, eta errespetuz eta debozioz itzuli beharko genukeena.

An interpretation of Soinuarenbidea II should start from this premise: everything is possible, nothing is random, and in itself is an impossible randomness. The proposed scenario explores the idea of ​​augmented reality from a sonic, environmental, and collective perception. The work moves back and forth, recreating extinct experiences of an uncertain future, seeking to facilitate a peaceful end. Each sound piece is created, unfolds, retreats, and is destroyed, in a permanent twisting of all reality that makes each musical fragment, each acoustic identity, each sonic space possible. The dreamlike, the fictional, and the journey are continually present, and it is in the transit of each fragment that the dialogue of the musical exposition takes place. The elements of this fiction are continually recreated, in a continuum where they intertwine and contort as they grow or diminish with each fragment of concrete synthesis. The explicitly musical themes are the magma that leads to the work's voluptuousness, the skin being a context or boundary that in itself fluctuates indefinitely in possible textures and configurations. And the warp of silence is the synthesis that is continually present and seeks to unite the fragments in a continuous expressive collision. The field recordings provide the concrete sound material, and like a sonic fractal, each one offers different degrees of interpretation that in turn lead to new fragments and new creations. So one can think of this as a synthesis of a possible reality, but interpretable in an infinite number of ways. An implicit movement and staticity that generate acoustic structures and dynamics. What is heard is not real, but in itself is part of reality, creating an expectant scenario. The cinematic, plastic and theatrical, dance and dynamic aspects take on importance in this game, because it is about telling a story, an experience recreated from the perspective of visual art. It is at once a common thread and entertainment, political discourse and pure entertainment. It is from this space of artistic coexistence that the whole makes sense and justifies the proposed sound format. The contradiction of the work is evident in its format, and it is, in turn, the presentation of an accidentality in the course of life. Noise Container gathers all these contradictions and manifests them in the work Soinuarenbidea II. It is a sound story, an acoustic tale. It is a fragment of vitality in audible images. It is an invitation to reflection, to critique, to enjoyment, to meditation, to celebration. And above all, it is a hopeful appreciation of reality as something malleable that we collectively craft, requiring patient observation and global collective participation, in a finite world full of diversity and of which we know practically nothing, to which we should return with respect and devotion.

Paisajes sonoros, diseño sonoro, drones y música grabada, realizada y arreglada para Contenedor de Ruido por David Aranaz. Coro: Basandere Ahotsak. Producido y mezclado por David Aranaz. Mástering: Estanis Elorza. Fotografía: David Aranaz. Texto: David Aranaz. Traducción: Saioa Aranaz Oreja. Trabajo y Diseño artístico: Cristina Martinez. Edición: Contenedor de Ruido Producciones y Sarbide Music. Distribución: Contenedor de Ruido.

Contenedor de Ruido agradece el apoyo en la realización de Soinuarenbidea II al coro Basandere Ahotsak y en especial a Eva Orbara Goicoa.

Soinuarenbidea II está dedicado al pueblo palestino.

Paisajes y objetos Sonoros, samplers y otras músicas transformadas para Soinuarenbidea II
Burlada: Paseos sonoros matinales por Merindad de Sangüesa, Calle Mayor, Capuchinas, Parque Uranga y varias iglesias y plazas. Pasajes del cotidiano: basura de papel, cristal y plástico.
Pamplona: Cementerio de San José. CEIP Sanduzelai /// Quinto Real: Fábrica de Armas, Puerto de Urkiaga y alrededores. Suite del silencio, bosques en movimiento /// Fábrica de armas de Orbaiceta: regatas, biosques, paseo sonoro hasta regata /// Belate: Puerto de Belate y alrededores. Vacas en pradera junto a las turberas /// Bardenas Reales: Suite de guitarra y Suite del silencio, estepa desértica /// Austria: Tranvías de Graz y Viena. Muchedumbre del metro de Viena.
Voces cinematográficas de: Matanza en Texas, Robocop, Espíritu Sagrado, Solo los Amantes Sobreviven, Voces de Gaza, Yojimbo, Terciopelo Azul, Los 7 Magníficos.
La pista A2 está dedicada a la memoria de David Lynch.
La pista B4 está dedicada a Eva Orbara Goicoa.
Pista A4: Contiene interpretaciones de piano de Three Piano Pieces Op.11 de Arnold Schoenberg.
Pista A5: Es una interpretación expandida con síntesis FM del Concerto Op. 24 - Etwas lebhaft - de Anton Webern.
Pista A7: Contiene la canción Besarkatu ninduzun (Letra de Josune López y música de Josu Elberdin) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak en la iglesia de Burutain bajo la tormenta.
Pista B2: Contiene la canción Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Fernando Tárrega) en interpretación torsionada de David Aranaz Sarasa.
Pista B14: Contiene la canción Agur María (Letra y Música de Estíbaliz Robles “Estitxu” y arreglo exclusivo de Alfonso Ortiz para Basandere Ahotsak) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak.

Equipamiento para Soinuarenbidea II.
Micros de condensador SE7, configuración XY y ORTF; Micros de cinta ORTIZ LUTHIER configuración XY y Blumlein; Grabadoras MARANTZ y ZOOM; Sintetizadores y samplers Elektron MONOMACHINE SPS-1, MACHINEDRUM SFX6 y MODEL:SAMPLES. Dave Smith MOPHO. Torso Electronics S-4. Sintetizador Modular 333 DIY; Guitarra clásica ALHAMBRA 6P; Esculturas Sonoras tipo Baschet, cristal y metales; Mesa Soundcraft FX16ii; Interface de Audio RME Babyface Pro FS; DAW Logic Pro; Procesamiento de modelado analógico con Acústica Audio, Waves, Softube, Brainworx, Sonible, Analog Obsesion, Tokio Dawn. Metering de Logic y RME DigiCheck . Amplificación Hafler PRO2400. Monitorización BW DM602 S3. Mezcla digital; Mastering híbrido.

The piano recital/album sans retour forms the concluding part of Croene's 'Trilogy of Hopelessness' (Cortizona). The overarching theme is the sense of doom inherent in our responses to climate change. After the doomed indulgence in nostalgia ('cul de sac', 2019) and the doomed yearning for landscapes lost through climate change and human mismanagement ('solastalgia', 2022), he now presents 'sans retour': the doom of the inevitably failed fantasy of escape.

Six piano pieces serve as an in memoriam for six fearless aviation pioneers who ultimately lost their lives in plane crashes. The album opens with a sound recording of the communication between Yuri Gagarin and mission control one minute before the launch of the first manned space flight. At the end of Side A and the beginning of Side B, excerpts from the conversation between Richard Russell and air traffic control can be heard.

Conceived as a single, Beethovenian composition, Croene once again demonstrates the wide range of sound palettes a piano can produce. The common thread is a melody based on the 'Dies Irae', which takes six different forms to embody the in memoriam concept.

Amand returns to All Day I Dream alongside Belgian newcomer Capoon for their collaborative two-track Ouverture EP. The release arrives with a bonus remix from producer/DJ Khen.

Guided by a shared sense of musical storytelling, Amand and Capoon find common ground in organic instrumentation and cinematic rhythm. Across its two movements, Ouverture unfolds like a passage through dusk and dawn part meditative, part ascendant. The title track’s first part opens in a space of gentle introspection, carried by fluid percussion and softly woven synths. Its counterpart rises with quiet momentum, layering melodic phrasing, captivating vocals, and subtle rhythmic tension into a transportive finale. It’s a delicate and dreamy 12-minute journey that encapsulates the wondrous imagination of All Day I Dream curation.

Khen’s remix expands the emotional arc further, blending the original’s warmth with his signature precision and dynamic melodic control. The result feels both grounded and dreamlike, aligning seamlessly with the label’s ethos of soulful progression and timeless sound design.

For our ninth offering we have ventured out of our small but fertile swamp in search of another source of magick. Meandering across boggy pastures new, we crossed paths with Steevio, who sat hovering serenely in the fern covered shade of a nearby valley. Instantly recognising the singular vision of this fabled artist, we hastily gathered our nets and cast them under Steevio’s branches, capturing four beautiful offerings as they wriggled towards us. Upon the return to our mulch, it became clear that we could not contain Steevio’s creations, so willful was their vitality. It was therefore all we could do to release them back to the universal dance from whence they came.

The dance germinates with the writhing polyrhythmic ‘Apricity’. Hearing the crunch of frost laden grass beneath our webbed toes, we look above us to search for the sun. Angular beams of light escape over the horizon, as the warmth of Steevio’s machines coalesce. A glistening hi hat breaks through the membrane to bind his creation and anchor its ever shifting arms.

‘Octopus’ glides gracefully through a sun-dappled kelp forest. Sub frequencies rumble up from the shadowy darkness below, rippling along the fronds as they ascend. As the ocean begins to churn, a wriggling melodic tentacle parts the foliage, gleaming with primordial energy. Its joyful visit to the surface realm leaves us with a brief yet powerful reminder of the mystery beneath.

The glow of the midwinter sun warms our bones on ‘Apricity (Sunrise Mix)’. Percussive elements bubble out of the depths, forming intricate cascading patterns as they grow over the perfectly formed kicks. The moog filter tames the brew with Steevio’s intuitive restraint , until he releases its mighty power upon the gleeful forest dwellers, to their rapturous gratitude.

With ‘Adref’ we return home. The sedate tempo provides oceanic space for a melody which inhales and exhales over a familiar landscape of perfectly tuned percussion. With each breath the melody seems to increase its reach, until it’s buried deep within our bones, its memory resonating on long after it’s gone.

Steevio’s music reflects the universal moments where seemingly chaotic and disparate elements are suddenly revealed to be perfectly harmonious. Of course examples of this are always universally present in nature, and have been eternally, but we have to be reminded to appreciate them. In the same way that a wave deposits a perfect line of shells on a beach, dew freezes on grass, or individual strands of mycelial hyphae bind together to form incredible patterns, Steevio’s music is likewise; effortlessly considered. For us, it has more in common with the unrelenting flow of a river than it does with dance music. It is psychedelic music in the same sense that nature is intuitively psychedelic; without ever leaning into any tried tropes of what is culturally considered ‘psychedelic’ music.

An’archives presents Kagome Kagome, the first collaboration between France’s Delphine Dora and Japan’s Ayami Suzuki. Curious listeners might know Dora from the string of lovely, idiosyncratic albums she’s released over the past two decades, most recently for labels like Modern Love, Morc and Recital; she’s also worked with the likes of Michel Henritzi and Sophie Cooper. Suzuki’s performances, predominantly for voice, place her within a tradition of Japanese improvised music – see the music she’s made with artists such as Takashi Masubuchi, TOMO and Leo Okagawa – but her approach also takes in folk song, ambience and claustrophobic drone.

On Kagome Kagome, Dora and Suzuki play to their many strengths: a gentle, free-willed folksiness; long, aerated drone constructs; ghostly, time-warping explorations for voice. They met on Dora’s May 2024 tour of Japan, though they’d been in touch beforehand, with Dora proposing the collaboration to Suzuki, developed around “concepts of ‘otherworldliness’ and ‘impermanence’,” the latter says, “and explored the relationship between ‘the invisible’ and sound in Japanese culture – a common interest we share.”

They recorded across several days that month, with the sessions for Kagome Kagome taking place in Kanumi, in Tochigi prefecture, at a space named Center. “I was particularly looking forward to seeing Delphine encounter the vintage 104-year-old harmonium from Nippon Gakki Seizo Co. that had just been repaired at Center,” Suzuki recalls. “It was as if the harmonium had been waiting for Delphine to draw sound from it. I felt it was a beautiful relationship where they could guide each other.”

Indeed, there’s something channelled about the music that Dora and Suzuki made together in the session that constitutes Kagome Kagome. Dora’s harmonium might be the spine of the album, but Suzuki’s free- floating voice, and gaseous, muddied banks of electronics, wrap around the wheezing, ancient tonality of the harmonium beautifully – they, too, sound as though they were just waiting to be willed out of the daytime air. Their voices nestle together beautifully – “when we sang together in a tunnel,” Suzuki says, “there were times when we sang the exact same melody without planning. It happened so naturally that the boundaries between us became blurred.”

And that title? It’s drawn from a Japanese children’s song, and the song titles themselves constitute the song’s lyrics, in alternating Japanese (Romanized) and French language. Urban legend connects the song “Kagome Kagome” to the Nikko Toshogu Shrine, nearby Center, that Suzuki and Dora visited while they were in Kanumi. “The mysterious lyrics of ‘Kagome Kagome’ and its puzzle-like connection to Nikko Toshogu were a perfect fit for this mysterious album,” Suzuki reflects, “which I think has its own kind of puzzle-like elements.”

A deep album of prayer and magic, of divination and ritual, Kagome Kagome’s sense of serious play, its rich beauty, feels somehow dislocated from our time. If you’ve ever enjoyed the music of Nico, Kendra Smith, Charalambides, or other channelers of ghostly mystery, its eerie otherness will, somehow, feel oddly familiar.

Many Amerindian cultures share the belief that the future lies behind us, while the past is what we face ahead. This challenge to Western chronology is, however, rooted in common sense: the open possibilities of what is to come are, in theory, what we cannot see—the uncertain—whereas the events that have already happened unfold before our eyes and are available for us to learn from.



This second album by Chilean producer, live performer, and DJ Valesuchi could be described as an experiment with time through music. Some years after relocating to Rio de Janeiro, she released Tragicomic LP (2019) on MAMBA rec—a label founded by the boundary-pushing Brazilian party Mamba Negra—and the self-released EP Cascada (2024). In both works, we can already appreciate her musical imprint: rhythmic and emotional timbral lines—wet, filtered, mathematical,

devotional, multilingual, fantastic, and unreal. However, in Futuro Cercano (Discos Nutabe, 2025), we can hear a leap: the sedimentation of her lived experiences in electronic communities across Latin America, her search for a universal yet personal language to convey emotion and new spiritual meaning, finds in this release a consistency and spontaneity that is rarely heard these days.



In a time when all cultural expression is not only expected to be taggable, but is also increasingly produced from templates that precondition our perception—favoring categorization and connections to works or scenes of the past—the tracks on this album are generically unclassifiable. They represent an openness to experiment without prejudice with electronic instruments and rhythms that are asancestral as they are futuristic. They publicly reveal an intimacy born from the compositional process, a bond formed through the encounter—sometimes tense, sometimes harmonious—between human will and that of the machines themselves. Or, as Valesuchi put it, "cyborging my friendship with the machine and becoming a tempest." Tempest as an eruption of the unknown into the present, the result of opening oneself to a nearly meditative state to uncover the deepest feelings through improvisation on cybernetic feedback and loops. And in that improvisation, to develop “técnicas para estirar o medir el tiempo”

“techniques to stretch or measure time” as she sings in 22, the album’s first track. “Connecting knowledges” as a portal to access that future so near it lies behind us, and to anticipate it as intuition and prospection.



That’s why Futuro Cercano is more than just electronic music: it is a technological ritual, an immersion into the secrets that machines hold as artifacts of human and non-human knowledge, as mysterious objects that allow us to connect with our own otherness—the personal alien hiding beneath the skin that opens us up to uncertainty as possibility rather than catastrophe.

Last summer, after living across the country from each other for several years, the four members of Anamanaguchi decided to try something new. Their label Polyvinyl had rescued the famed American Football house from potential destruction, so the band took the opportunity to move in and write together. Over the course of a month, Anamanaguchi – pioneers of hyper-melodic 8-bit rock, whose extraordinary ascent has led them to topping charts with virtual pop star Hatsune Miku and scoring Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: The Game and Netflix’s Scott Pilgrim Takes Off – flipped their typically meticulous digital process on its head. Anyway, the result, is the most personal record of their career. And it's a rock record for the ages.

Recorded straight to tape by Grammy-winning rock producer Dave Fridmann (The Flaming Lips, MGMT, Sleater-Kinney), Anyway united the members around live instruments and lyrics sung by everybody in the band. As Anamanaguchi has always been an instrumental band, the decision to sing suddenly confronted them with the question of what the band’s voice would ultimately be. They explore this newfound power in every song, making it their most emotionally resonant work yet.

Anyway captures a band creatively and personally energized by the experience of four best friends reviving their connection in a disconnected world. On “Rage (Kitchen Sink),” the band confront loneliness and boredom, two epidemics of the digital age that seem to be humanity’s only common bond. The power-pop ballad “Darcie” finds inspiration in small gestures from a local unsung hero, who brightens their lives and allows unforeseen amounts of fun to happen. Taut and dynamic, “Buckwild” is a rock sing-along that serves as the album’s genesis story: a band making an effort to do something new, while accepting the risks that may bring.

USA, Anamanaguchi’s critically-acclaimed second album and debut for Polyvinyl, anticipated a crucial cultural shift in moving from escapist, nostalgic fantasy to a more introspective exploration of digital identity. Described by Pitchfork as the band’s “most emotionally grounded record,” USA laid the foundation for the openness and honesty that defines Anyway. Where USA made sense of life online, their third album Anywayventures into the world outside the front door.

A meeting of minds and bodies on a heady percussive trip with no clear destination, captured live at Espacio Cultural El Tanque in Tenerife. With both imaginary and lived in tropical sceneries coalescing the two units, both Tenerife's Lagoss and Kampala's Abagwagwa (aka Nihiloxica) find a common thread to disentangle cartographies. As if it was bound to happen. As it did.

Taking Abagwagwa's relentless barrage of polyrhythms as a starting point to jammin' excursions that never falter into self indulgence, brimming with ideas and spirits pulled from East African traditions, Free Jazz cosmologies, Dub tactics, urban sonic warfare and different strains of psychedelia through a vast array of drums, percussion, flutes, skewed synths, ecstatic vocals and electronic processing.Blessed with the xamanic drumming of João Pais Filipe on two tracks and feeling equally indebted to both bands' vision all the while commiting to a newfound sense of wonder, 'Island Slang' is a celebration that's truly alluring in its search for some sort of 'Universal Consciousness' - to quote Alice Coltrane - for which we're now invited to tag along. You are all welcome.