quête:crash delay

2026 Repress

Trickpony rightfully return with their sensual sophomore record, a six track tip of downtempo anthems elaborating on the sonic blueprint established through Pillow Talk (STEP11). Contemporary trip hop revivalists at the core; the trio specialise in new age pop collages, stripped, subbed and dubbed for your pleasure. With whispered secrets tangled over atmospheric decay and hooks that tug at heartstrings, the trickpony DNA is embedded deep in the musical discourse; “24/7 Heaven” elevates even the most devious to a divine higher place.

From top to tail slung breaks crash like waves, rolling and seeping into opulent synthesis which fills the room. Sometimes music can say a thousand words without a single lyric; Ripple and Trick Trick fixating on textural constructions, layers of harmonic delight working in unison with forward thinking percussion patterns. Angel and No/Direction delve deeper into a more sparse, stripped back landscape; delayed fragments with room to breathe between vocal stylings that will lodge themselves into your memory one word at a time.

Closing with a psychedelic exploration, Memphis Light derails structure formula and drum&bass starts to feel technicolour. With an understated maturity exuding from all angles, STEP17 offers an introspective assortment of illustrious songs ready to reach into your subconscious.

The record captures an expansive performance in Poitiers, France in November 2023. First working together in an unpredictable trio with minimalist legend and eccentric extraordinaire Charlemagne Palestine, Ambarchi and Thielemans quickly established a remarkable musical chemistry that led to an ongoing series of duo concerts, including the performance documented on their LP Double Consciousness (Matière Mémorie, 2023).

Kind Regards finds the duo refining their shared language while continuing to take risks, allowing the music’s gravitational pull to lead them from meditative calm to unexpectedly expressive passages of melodic invention and rhythmic drive.

Recorded in sparkling fidelity and carefully mixed by Ambarchi’s longtime collaborator Joe Talia, the LP contains a single unbroken performance, stretching out for over 45 minutes. Guitar and drums weave together into a symbiotic whole that nevertheless affords us ample opportunity to marvel at the highly personal approaches these two musicians have developed to their chosen instruments through decades of diverse collaboration and prolific performance. The set begins with Thielemans’ hypnotic tom patterns, around which Ambarchi’s wavering, shimmering guitar tones—achieved with the help of the rotating speaker of a Leslie cabinet—flurry and swirl. Thielemans’ drums play subtle tricks with time and perception, adding and dropping beats within repeated patterns to create an effect at once rhythmically insistent and liquified. Growing at first into a rapidly pulsing texture of brushed drums and flickering harmonics, the music builds momentum into an irregular groove over which Ambarchi’s guitar is transformed into haunting, monumental electric organ chords, strikingly recalling the Wurlitzer work of Alice Coltrane, before settling into a section of gentle portamento melody embedded into the tactile clicks and clangs of Thielemans’ percussion.

When Thielemans adopts a more traditional jazz approach to the kit in some of the set’s second half, the results are stunning, demonstrating a feel for shifting accents and sensibility to the touch of the stick on the drum or cymbal that recalls greats like Jack DeJohnette or Billy Hart (one of Thielemans’ mentors). And when Ambarchi turns up the heat, he does so in an unexpected and delightful way, letting loose a swarm of jittering delayed tones straight out of Henry Kaiser’s classic It’s a Wonderful Life, with a more active use of the guitar’s fretboard than his usual approach to the instrument allows. As the performance draws to a close after a climactic episode of distorted harmonic groans and crashing cymbals that manages to be at once thunderous and carefully attuned to detail, it is clearer than ever that, for these two serial collaborators, this is a very special pairing.

Kind Regards shows us the kind of magic that can happen when two masters who have dedicated decades to reimagining their instruments simply begin to play, following the music wherever it goes.

Playful Italo-Disco project by Florentine Marzio Benelli, originally released in 1984. "Life Is Now" delivers a number of what seem to be almost very important life-teachings over a rather sloppy beat. The hi hats, although very present also make it clear "Spanish Crash" is in no rush to get anywhere any time soon, sounding almost off beat. What strikes the listener even more than the smudges of highly valuable advice in some form of English language is the creative usage of what might have been some of the latest studio recording toys to reach Italy in 1984, an array of rather unorthodox synthy effects, vocoders, trippy delays all topped off with imposing guitar riffs for good measure. Very much sounding like what could be the soundtrack to a bootleg Disney comic strip on acid. Castro's "Paella Crash" shifts the original lazy gear into a dubbier, high BPM, striped down version of the original that is more club oriented.

Underground Pacific is back with a new double vinyl compilation titled ‘The Only Good Wave is a Dead One’ that confirms, once again, its uncompromising taste for bold electronic music, psychedelic textures, and raw, electrified rock ‘n roll. This release brings together a varied group of artists, each of them adding something special to the journey.

The trip begins with “Excursions” by Gregory Moore, a piece that floats into a humid sonic world, between the nostalgic tones of vintage video game soundtracks, the Fourth World atmospheres of Jon Hassell, and the shimmering calm of ’90s Japanese ambient à la Takashi Kokubo.

Next comes Talee, the Rotterdam-based regular of the label, with “Makes Me Wonder”. Here, grunge-soaked vocals meet a tight dark disco groove, pierced by crystalline guitar chords that shimmer at the track’s heart. A song with its soul in the past and its feet in the club.

Label founder Cantor teams up once again with German duo New Hook on “Achtung! Achtung!”, an homage to the eponymous track by Italian producer Black Saagan. Fueled by vintage drum machines, punk-infused vocals, and melodies echoing the krautrock minimalism of Cluster, the track channels pure Cold War disco energy.

On “Scavengers”, Berlin based World Wild Web and Rasp Thorne deliver a pure mix of electro-rock noir – Suicide by way of David Lynch. Picture a never seen before episode of the series where Martin Rev and Alan Vega are playing live at the Roadhouse in Twin Peaks, while Laura Palmer slowly moves her head to the music, with a devilish smile on her face.

All the way from Grenoble to Berlin, H.L.M. deliver a dirty bass-driven anthem called ‘Fronde’. French spoken vocals spitfire over layers of distorted drones and hypnotic rhythms. The result is rough, hypnotic, and brings to mind the grooves of Death in Vegas.

New Hook return, this time solo, with ‘Unity’: a blend of groovy downtempo percussions, melancholic guitar riffs, and their signature brand of spoken word, a style that’s quickly become their sonic fingerprint.

Then it’s the turn of mexican-wave exponents Montessori featuring Vongold on “Ad Libitum”: a techy sunrise piece with soft pads, subtle build-ups, and an ecstatic sense of endlessness. After-party music for vast, open spaces.
Next up are SX2 from Ireland with their ‘Buttons’, offering a rolling tech-house banger laced with desert guitars. Psychedelic FX’s and whispered vocals drenched in delay slow the pace in a breakdown full of tension, preparing the floor to an euphoric release.

A dream from the pandemic era reappears: Cantor’s “Hannett’s Dream”, originally released in 2020 by Modular’s Project’s imprint ‘Nothing Is Real’ together with their own reworked version present also in two very limited vinyl-collector editions released by Underground Pacific. The introspection and hypnotic structure of the original cut here is replaced by a more stripped down arrangement, with a four-to-the-floor groove that is perfectly crafted for peak-time ignition.

Closing out the release is “Carissima” by the man behind iconic label Wonder Stories, Aimes – a Moroder-esque bassline and sensual vocals play on top of a warm groove that suddenly fractures into jazz-tinged, breakbeat mood, in the style of early Warp Records, just in time to get back into its disco-ish swing.

Contrary to what the title of this release might suggest, the wave isn’t dead at all. It’s well alive in the underground, reanimated by labels like Underground Pacific who are always ready to welcome artists who aren’t afraid to crash genres together and, above all, who are driven by the desire to make free-form, inspired pieces of music.

Two years after releasing the acclaimed Crash Recoil, Anthony Child aka Surgeon returns to Tresor with new LP, Shell~Wave. Retaining the minimal equipment list and studio-version-of-live-show-sets approach of the previous album in order to focus on the work itself, Shell~Wave is a deeply personal document of both where Surgeon is and has been, converging three decades of experience with a continued curiosity in the untested.
“To make this project, I had to dig really deep in terms of what my relationship was to techno; I’ve been involved with it for a really long time and there’s a lot about it I feel dislocated from, so I had to really think hard about what techno is to me. I often get asked “what is techno to you?” but I can’t answer that with words; this album is the answer.” From the complex, twisting track Infinite Eye to the caustic Soul Fire, the eight tracks that make up the body of the album are single-take explorations of the vast, hard yet minimal techno Child is synonymous with.
Neatly dividing the record in two, the emotional centre of the record comes in the form of Dying, a vibrating, beatless piece that with a mantra-like vocal loop steeped in reverberating effects. Further echoes of dub production appear throughout the record as tracks like Divine Shadow, and Empty Cloud have an almost ever-present mist of reverberation, driven by the appearance of a new delay unit in the equipment list; while much of the philosophy of Crash Recoil’s creation is present, the process and the instruments have changed as Child again switches up his approach to studio work.
This insistence on trying novel techniques doesn’t preclude returning to old ones, as this use of modern digital machines with live, hands-on takes that are as inspired by 60s producer Joe Meek and 70s reggae as they are by this year’s synthesiser expos.
“For me, it’s an interesting experience returning to old techniques again after 30 years. I’m always exploring and finding myself back at the beginning. Connecting the present with the past.”
This philosophy of ‘time travel’ is inherent to the music itself as the synchronised loops repeat while the delay and effects branch out, forming unique eddies; distinct quantum moments within the circular whole; the future leaking through the spaces between the sounds. All of the concepts on the album are perfectly communicated through the painting by Taiwanese artist Jazz Szu-Ying Chen which suggests the movement of water, sound waves, and the chitinous shells of sea creatures.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Music On Hold's second album raises to its climax an altogether well-cultivated ambiguity between new ambitions and the waiting posture of a band which has never lived up to its name so well. Produced in a cellar in the 7th arrondissement of Paris, supported by Ray Jane and "surrounded by a group of people who manage to concentrate on something for more than 15 minutes", "MOH4Ever" is one of the most personal things that Emile Cartron-Eldin delivers today, "from the salt-dough workshops in kindergarten". Opening, "His Master Voice" transforms the tribute to a recently deceased loved one into a sad clown's dancing homily. With no surprise follows "Wander" and roaming in a Paris traveled up and down at least ten thousand times already. "Music On Hold 4 Ever" then releases the title of this album in a cry accompanied by an invitation to "unplug" his singer. We hear a bit of the group's very first single, "Bread", taken through the prism of Beck's "Up all night". "Citadel", 6'30" end of side A, loudly proclaims as a chain-breaking the nostalgia of truant school and a desire not to die (at least not like Darby Crash). Mixed in - like this entire album - are the versatile ingenuity of LCD Soundsystem and Gorillaz with Italo-disco arrangements from Roberto Zanetti (aka Savage). With "Over", "Home", "Taming a Tiger" and "Last Laugh", side B prolongs the tightrope walker's delirium by summoning in no specific order, memories in Vienna, resumption of excessive consumption, the fact that "the director of the US Federal Reserve is a real fake-ass" and the cynical humo(u)rous swings of a guy overwhelmed by them in an everlasting after-party. From the first LP, "30 Minutes Of..." and its already delayed release, its chopped tour, "Music On Hold 4 Ever" digs a refined pop, no longer as "solar" as some could have described it when everything seemed to be going quickly. Retaining a semblance of immediacy, the 8 pieces of this second album open up new perspectives with their elegant sophistication, in a quite French and truly original touch of DIY and experimentation that the group can pride themselves on. " I'm twenty-nine, and i don't wanna die ".

Infinite Machine is proving again it's a label that refuses to sonically sit still. Having released everything from code-based compositions to bass-heavy techno in 2022, the imprint is readying the release of the black metal-tinged Ehkta by BOLT RUIN later this month. A musician whose work has been described as 'apocalyptic' more than once, on this new mini-album, the Belgian producer blends field recordings, twisted samples and rave signifiers with an eerie tonality born out of his nocturnal production sessions and time spent absorbing the silence of his studio garden.

Bridging the gap from his previous record to this one, 'Sktone' is a cinematic opener that unfolds like a bad dream in slow motion. Warped samples of Bulgarian choirs glide over synths wired in closed-circuit loops which feed back on themselves, degrading for infinity. Texture and space is added via field recordings of waves crashing over the ruins of Brighton West Pier. This track exemplifies the unexpected influence BOLT RUIN took from the wildlife he witnessed in the garden of his urban studio when working on Ehkta. Adapting to the material at their disposal, weasels and blackbirds create nests from organic waste and human trash - an astute metaphor for the Belgian producer's compositional approach.

Next up, BOLT RUIN drives up the tempo with the rave-ready 'Nehng', where a frenzy of trance arpeggios and frantic drum programming builds and intensifies over its 5-minute duration. Inspired by Yves Klein's 'Leap Into a Void', 'Nehng' definitely evokes that bodily rush of freefalling into the unknown. 'Nehng''s driving rhythm is switched out for the brooding 'Tzarhk' - an ode to the soundtracks of B-movies composed on a vintage Roland SH-2 (a prominent character of the Stranger Things soundtrack). BOLT RUIN runs thick, syrupy synth slabs and punishing drum patterns through a rain-soaked limiter the producer found lying on the street by chance.

Another master-class in self-destructive arrangements comes in the form of 'Rfohmdrá' as delicate pianos and synth tones atrophy through daisy chained pedals which erode the signal. Valgeir Sigurðsson's mastering skills shines through here, taking BOLT RUIN's sci-fi-meets-metal sonics and amping them up to a scale on par with the Björk or Ben Frost records he's previously worked on.

Conceived of as the mirror reflection of the LP's opener, 'Maevr' pushes the approach of 'Sktone' to an even more nightmarish extreme. Embracing chance, the clattering layers of beats are sampled of a knocked mic on a window as BOLT RUIN attempted to capture a recording of rain from his studio. A happy and very effective accident for the foreboding mood of the track!

BOLT RUIN rounds off Ehkta with 'Ekztamnh'; an ode to that specific sensation of entering through a corridor to a rave and hearing the rumble of a soundsystem from afar. Snarling melodies are run through a reverse granular delay effect which fragments the signal, reverses it and plays them back in irregular order; much like the shattered memories of a late night in a warehouse.

A musical magpie who finds inspiration in the most unlikely of sources, Ehkta is a restless exploration of salvage-punk aesthetics where doom-laden black metal melodies, amen breaks and an experimental approach to sound design sit in an irregular and uneven musical apocalypse. For fans of Blanck Mass or Caterina Barbieri - this is a must-listen material from a fresh producer establishing himself with a singular musical voice.

Label favourites Balearic Ensemble return to the fore following last summer's spectacular 'Cachonda' EP, this time with a 12" treasury of wonderful, eclectic dancing music of the highest balearic order. They're joined by Das Komplex, notable for recent excursions on DJ Harvey's Mercury Rising, to round out their five-track excursion for the label: this is the Mediterráneo EP.

Opener 'Pitiusas First' sets the tone with dizzy, downbeat percussions as a bass guitar skates and glissades underfoot; soaring, starry-eyed synth work and Latin organ stabs in concerto. This homage to the islands and islets of Ibiza comes with a note of melancholy, or nostalgia: waking up to find that your best years might have evaded you - and celebrating the fact. It's a maturing of the Residentes sound in a way we haven't heard before; a gorgeous moonlight serenade, the last tango on Formentera, and a tip for orange-tinted sunsets all summer long.

Second track 'Almendros y Drones' takes us deeper into the throes of that distinctive Mediterranean sound with dizzying arpeggios and analogue bass over teetering hihats and fizzing synths; it's an eruptive, volcanic beast of a track that will take liberties with your dancefloor. Over-the-top filter action and driving piano perforations, crashing snares and resonant howls, Almendros, Drones.

The third offering is 'Mojada', taking cues from classic deep house with its deep-set bassline and modular squeaks. It's a slow burner, an aquaplane on Eivissa, cueing 303 squelches and 90s drum machine riffing before its eventual, explosive peak.

After Mojada we enter the chugging, gritty realm of Das Komplex's remixes. He refashions the heady throes of 'Mojada' into a driving, churning unit; percussions, distorted into infinity; basslines bent and buckled into submission; slabs of piano lathered with space echo delay. Wonky late-nite dancing music at its very best.

Extra treat: Das Komplex also left us his 'Pineapple Bonus Mix' of Mojada, which is a more sunset-suited affair altogether. This special mix lasers in on that exuberant piano part, then plays with percussions and dynamics to create a full-on dub version of the original track.

They Say: “Contemporary scores for visual effect”.

We say: Synth-heavy, low-slung space-funk masterpiece.

The creator of the romping tunes that became the iconic themes to the BBC’s Grandstand programme and their televised Wimbledon Tennis Championship coverage, Keith Mansfield was perhaps KPM’s most prolific artist from the mid 1960s right the way through the 1980s. As well as the sort of pop orchestral sound that is all over these classic library records, he could also turn his hand to raw, edgy rock and funk. Quentin Tarantino is a big fan, going as far as including some of Keith’s work on the soundtracks to Kill Bill and Grindhouse.

This is it. This is THE ONE for us: Keith “The Man” Mansfield’s Vivid Underscores from 1977. A sample freak’s wet dream and one of Be With Rob’s favourite ever KPM records. A must for fans of Brian Bennett’s Voyage (yes, THAT good). And no, we’ve no idea either why it took us this long to get round to tackling this monster of a record. But then again some things are worth waiting for.

Attention! Calling all crate diggers, DJs, beat heads, Hip Hop junkies, MF DOOM fans! Behold! Vivid Underscores makes sampling easy. Prepare to be up all night, every night, chopping, looping and splicing these endless grooves and spacey synths. The highlights are too many and too mind-blowing so we’ll pull out a few particular highlights. Trust us, this library LP is just jaw-dropping.

“High Velocity” sets the tone with its aggressive horns, wah-wah guitars, funky baseline and wobbly synth refrain. So good and so hypnotic that Memphis Bleek just had to swipe the ominous, frazzled intro for “What You Think of That” featuring Jay-Z. Also, for real drama, the 1985 Lakers retrospective “Return to Glory” used it to soundtrack the footage from the legendary game five of the NBA finals at the Forum. Heady days. “Crash Course” - Stetsasonic horn refrain? Beautiful - jazzy chase-funk, amazing warm keys, percussion and funky horns - all action.

The more restrained “Matter Of Urgency” is an utterly amazing, brass-heavy underscore. The grandiose, uplifting “Dawn Of Aquarius” still sounds like the future with its tense, thundering drums, killer bassline and swirling synths. Version II loses the drums and percussion but is no less startling. “Staying Power” closes the first side with a relentless, pounding groove which *will* snap your neck. Be warned.

“Trucking Company” is a pacey, synth-and-string masterpiece and its accompanying parts (a–c) mess with the formula to great effect. Part (a) adds echo delay to really dazzle and part (c) plays the breezy, beautiful middle section without the tension. “Hot Cargo” and “Espionage” are both tense spy-funk themes par excellence. “Interplay” is a quiet killer, with flutes over a glistening piano refrain just waiting to be looped. The intro to the menacing “Omen” might’ve been sampled by 7L & Esoteric for their classic “So Glorious” but the entire 5 minute track is a mini-drama masterpiece, one only Mansfield could create.

Even though its a mix of short themes in-and-amongst longer, full-length tracks, Vivid Underscores is still thoroughly listenable from start to finish. That’s not something that can be said of all library records and it still manages to serve as rich resource to keep even the keenest samplers busy for a while.

As with all of our KPM re-issues, the audio for Vivid Underscores comes from the original analogue tapes and has been remastered for vinyl by Be With regular Simon Francis. And as usual, the sleeve reproduction duties were handed over to Richard Robinson, the current custodian of KPM’s brand ident

Jatinder Singh Durhailay and David Edren released Tea Notes as a cassette back in April of 2018. London-based Jatinder Singh Durhailay is a painter and student of Indian Classical music. He has trained in both the sitar and the Hindi singing technique, Dhrupad. He also plays two traditional Sikh instruments; the bowed, stringed Dilruba and Taus. Poetic Pastel Press issued his solo debut, The Last Ballad Of Mardana, in 2017. David Edren`s expertise lies with machines and modular synthesis. His Kosmische and New Age-Inspired electronics have featured on numerous cassettes, and compilations, produced for imprints from the current Belgian underground, such as Jj Funhouse, Social Harmony, and Ultra Eczema. These recordings appearing, since the turn of the millennium, either under his own name, or the moniker DSR Lines. Jatinder and David’s collaboration, Tea Notes, is a celebration, a meditation, on both the beverage, and the communal time shared imbibing. The coming together to partake in its ritual. Each of the six tracks represents a different infusion. The opening piece is a tribute to semi-oxidised Oolong, from China`s Wuyi Mountains, with hammered dulcimer-like glissando. Gongs shimmering, gently crashing, as if signaling a change in the weather. A calm of thin, stretched synths and Ai angels introduces Tulsi from India. The Holy Basil of Hinduism, used in the worship of Vishnu, Krishna, and Rama. A traditional herb of Ayurveda and Siddha medicine. Automated arpeggiated sequences raising a vibrating wall of hallucinatory sound. Pairing swooning strings with a racing robot heart. Ceylon is a modern twist on the classical raga. Serving to tell the story of a tea smuggled into Sri Lanka in the 19th century. Plants stolen from South West China, where the brew had been enjoyed since the days of the Shang Dynasty (1766 to 1122 BC). The contraband founding fresh industry in its new home when the indigenous coffee crops failed. Muted organ and sleepy, treated sine wave microtones describe Kava, the Polynesian fireweed root, whose extract serves as both sedative and euphoriant.Shincha are the first young leaves of the season. Picked in Southern Japan and steamed to prevent oxidization, retain their flavour and green / gold colour. Their musical counterpart finds Edren establishing an ecclesiastical drone, while Durhailay`s strings chart an ancient romantic ache. Sonic stars shine. Singing out to the infinite, the universe, before dissolving into knots of Radiophonic Workshop noise.Melodies treated with subtle sustain and delay denote Pu-Ehr, from the Yunnan province. The only truly fermented black tea - made distinctive by the action of bacteria, moulds, and yeasts. Its musical themes hovering in the vapour trails, the atmospheres, they themselves create. Spiraling, soaring, reaching for the heavens, while pretty music box glitches - tiny chimes turned in on themselves. Catching, reflecting, like light at play on fresh running water. (words: Robert Harris)

Nirosta Steel is a sometime alias of Steven Hall. Musician and survivor of the `80s NYC`s art melting pot. Everybody Sing dances like Steven`s long-term collaborator and lost-way-too-early friend, Arthur Russell. As he forced irresistible, idiosyncratic, Disco-Not-Disco, out of the Ingram Brothers. Riding low rumbling bass. Phased guitar, country picking, flickering in and out of the mix. Strings, choir boy falsetto, and blue yodel, cutting through its delay-drenched, dance floor delirium.

L.A.`s Cole Medina delivers two reworks. His Heavy Disco take is intro`d by cowbell and synth swirls. Cymbals crashing like sampled surf. With Stratocaster microtones, and echoes of the original, washing over an electronically, re-imagined B-line and trip-py sequences.

Cole`s Knuckles Tribute sets poignant piano and gated orchestral euphoria against a classic Def Mix groove. Revealing the song in epiphany. Clarifying the lyric`s call for unity. Where singing your troubles away is a analogy for strength in adversity. Everybody hurts sometimes. In that, we are united. Eventually heading towards its own disorientating climax. Comin` at ya from all sides.

Mind Fair`s version goes in for some tribal thumping. Stripping the track down, before building it back up. Its big kick blowing bins like a hyped heart pumping within a giant's chest. Chicken scratches dropping in between its colossal 'lub dub', and Coati Mundi-meets-Jah Wobble-like Punk Funk..

Breakcore attack in the aera ! Dancefloor Trauma ! This is a Toolbox Co-Production. We apologize again to the label for the big delay it tooks to issue this record.