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For the first release of AKIHI DRIVE on Bright Sounds, wepresent an immersive journey through complex soundscapesthat seamlessly blend intricate rhythms and abstract melodies.This debut is a bold exploration of experimental electronictextures, evoking deep atmospheres that challenge conventionallistening.

Expect a fresh yet familiar sound with roots in the most iconicmovements of IDM, where organic beats meet synthetic beauty,inviting listeners into a space of introspective discovery andsonic experimentation. Perfect for those seeking music thattranscends traditional genres, AKIHI DRIVE's release is set toresonate with both seasoned electronic enthusiasts and curiousnewcomers alike.

This is the first ever stand-alone vinyl release of the Bel Canto Orquestra"s legendary concert in Montpellier in 1983. Founded by Pascal Comelade, Pierre Bastien, Cathy Claret and Laurent Churet, the Bel Canto Orquestra was constituted of toy instruments only. During its lifetime from 1983 to 2015, other members included Victor Nubla, Pip Pyle, Jac Berrocal and many more. Includes bonus track "Résumé Du Concert Du Bel Canto Orquestra Du 7 Mai 1992" which is a never before released piano summary of the Orquestra"s 1992 concert.

Introspective, surrealist techno on 'Doctrine EP' by 393AD for the maiden release of Full Range Motion! Three playful, layered cuts that draw inspiration from minimal visual arts, DIY culture, and the repetitive grind of everyday life. Based on long hardware jams followed by extended in-the-box production methods, Amsterdam-based artist and co-owner of Full Range Motion 393AD creatively crafts slowly-evolving, locked-in-place techno. While all tracks vary in intensity, the concept for 'Doctrine EP' is a clear one: explorative dancefloor music with a hint of mystery and curiosity to keep you moving. Mastering by Temudo. Distribution by Clone.

Indulge in the smooth vibes of Luke Beats' latest album, 'Cream', dropping now on Little Beat More.
Inspired by the Italian saying 'ci sta una crema' ('as good as cream'), which indicates the utmost satisfaction, this work is the perfect dessert for your musical gluttony, kneaded by the skilful hands of Luke Beats for all hip hop lovers. In a world where the saying 'Cash rules everything around me' (once again: C.R.E.A.M!) still resonates loudly from the days when Method Man and the Wu-Tang rapped it, the love and passion for music can continue to shine.
With nods to sounds that have defined this genre in its origins, especially in the melodic and synthesiser parts, 'Cream' blends tradition and novelty, love for the classic and curiosity for the contemporary, creating a dreamy, mellow atmosphere that takes listeners on a creamy journey.
The 18-track album features the collaboration of drummer Federico Romeo on '404 Fun 4 Days' and guitarist Danny Bronzini on 'JamDilla', while Luke Beats himself played bass parts on 'P.T.H', 'JamDilla', 'Cookin' and 'The D'.

Once again, Matteo Baracco's artwork adorns the EP, with a closed but squashed tube of tempera, which perfectly complements the nostalgic yet fresh sounds within, telling of an approach to production and beatmaking still anchored in the “old school” sound craft principles in which getting one's hands dirty is the prerogative needed to shape a sound that is personal and respectful of its history.

A further tribute to the golden era of hip hop is provided by the format of the release, in an iconic timeless audio cassette to dust off your ghettoblaster!

cLOUDDEAD's debut album, compiling six 10" EPs that appeared between 2000-2001, is aurally dense and obscured. A sprawling mass of miniature beat-suites and Dadaist lyrics, this strange and beautiful 3xLP would influence a myriad of sub-genres (cloud rap, hauntology, lo-fi hip-hop, etc.) in the two decades since its initial release.

Only the three members of cLOUDDEAD – Why?, Doseone and Odd Nosdam – can speak to the group's origins, but in the context of underground hip-hop towards the end of the 20th century, their arrival makes perfect sense. Cincinnati had a vital scene; home to Scribble Jam, an annual confluence of MCs, DJs, B-boys and graffiti artists. While the trio soon relocated to the Bay Area where they co-founded the Anticon collective, their Midwestern roots – in ramshackle basements of off-campus hovels, as the "cerberus of Southern Ohio" – would remain the atomic heart of their early recordings.

As Chris Martins writes in the liner notes, "The only reason we know their names today is because of how loudly and curiously they aired their insularity. They rewrote the entire world as they knew it through their own fucked perspective, and when those mysterious 10-inches started popping up in record shops, it wasn't just a puzzle to investigate: there seemed to be a whole cosmology hidden in those grooves."

Each side of the album represents one of those elusive 10-inches, each embodying a universe unto itself. Opening salvo "Apt. A" and "And All You Can Do Is Laugh" are perhaps most emblematic of the cLOUDDEAD experience. Why? and Dose create a new language through boundless non-sequiturs, sing-song non-choruses and call-and-response hooks, while Nosdam's dexterous production shifts from crackling ambience of Flying Saucer Attack to tight Ohio Players drum breaks and oblique film samples.

Taken all together, cLOUDDEAD is an original interpretation of hip-hop in the surreal Y2K glow – a bizarre meeting point between William Basinski's Disintegration Loops and MF DOOM's Operation: Doomsday. All it took was a Dr. Sample SP-202, Tascam cassette eight-track and cheap RadioShack mic. There's truly nothing like it.

This edition has been faithfully restored by Nosdam. European exclusive version comes on clear vinyl, incl. fold-out poster and liner notes insert.

Highly regarded as a former resident at Salon Des Amateurs at his native Düsseldorf, Tolouse Low Trax/Detlef Weinrich has carved one of the most distinctive sounds in contemporary leftfield club music thanks to his deeply unusual grooves and hypnotic arrangements over the past 15 years as a solo artist.
Fung Day is his first album with entirely new material since Leave me alone which was released through Bureau B in 2022. Fung Day was written and recorded over the course of two years, slowly mutating and progressing from one state to another. Mixed, produced and finally mastered in Paris, his new domicile by choice.

A few words by Yvan Smagghe about Fung Day:
„He pretended he was in exile from Germany but he was a French lover like all of us; his MPC Sampler was smoking hot, an Enigma machine, an ashtray full of ghosts. I had left Paris for the same reasons he came. I could strangely relate. We’d met before he left Düsseldorf, and I knew of him through his oeuvre, his art over words (they were few) and piercing blue eyes.

He was now texting me on a night train from Warsaw going East, as in a Greene novel, asking me to go over his file. He sent me a spontaneous, fun, brave and bold record which is his new album - one that curiously smelled of mechanical grease - machinery of the soul, broken transport rhythms, samples like memories, noise at peace. Referenced yet uncoded. I don’t believe in ulterior motives and complex explanations. Not here at least. On the other hand, I do believe that works can be exposure - especially with the silent type or mistaken identities - and I knew about these too.“ - London, 2024

The Tokyo Blues is an album that reflects Horace Silver's deep musicality, cultural curiosity, and love for the blues

Its combination of relaxed grooves, melodic beauty, and hints of Eastern influence make it a unique and memorable work within Silver's extensive catalog. It's a perfect example of how jazz can both explore new territories and remain grounded in its own traditions, showcasing Silver's versatility as both a pianist and a composer. Released in 1962 it is considered a gem within Horace Silver's prolific career and offers an intriguing combination of Horace Silver's unique jazz language with the subtle influence of his experiences in Japan, producing a warm, thoughtful, and musically rich album. Horace Silver's The Tokyo Blues is the result of his quintet's tour of Japan in 1961, which left a strong impression on him. While on tour, Silver was struck by the culture, atmosphere, and aesthetics of Japan, which he sought to translate into the musical language he was deeply rooted in hard bop. The album, however, doesn't feature overt Japanese musical scales or instrumentation, but rather evokes a mood and a sense of place. Silver's approach was more about integrating his impressions of Japan, its serenity, beauty, and mood of reflection, into the compositions. He did this within the framework of the jazz tradition, creating music that remains unmistakably his own. His quintet was already known for its catchy themes, complex rhythms, and inventive solos, and The Tokyo Blues adds a layer of atmospheric and emotional depth to that established style. In the early 1960s, Horace Silver was at the height of his creative powers. His work was instrumental in shaping the hard bop movement, a style that emphasized blues, gospel, and soul influences over the more intricate, intellectual sounds of bebop. The Tokyo Blues stands as an example of Silver's ability to evolve his sound while staying true to the groove-based essence of hard bop.

Producer, designer, publisher, filmmaker, all-round scene phenom - Lasse Marhaug returns with his first album since relocating from Oslo to the Arctic Circle, surveying his 35-year career for a set of grizzled, doom-pocked rhythms and foghorn drones pulled from the aether. Expansive and hard to categorise, it's a precision-tooled set of ice-cold tonal productions that heavily lean into Mika Vainio’s rhythm experiments, with extra levels of growling bass and curious noises to send us deep into the uncanny.

Lasse Marhaug has put his mark on literally hundreds of albums - working with artists like Jenny Hval, Merzbow, Jim O'Rourke, Kevin Drumm, Hilary Woods - so many others - yet he still regards himself as a primarily visual artist who got diverted into an occasionally different path. If his last album 'Context' was a kiss goodbye to decades of life in Oslo, 'Provoke' turns a new page, but one that draws heavily from memories of the distant past, reflecting on the way the topographies of Norway's frozen north helped shape his creative worldview. Weaving electronics into environmental recordings captured in the bleak Arctic winter, the album was mixed during the Polar night season, when, for two straight months, the sun never rose past the horizon. Somehow, even at its bleakest, Marhaug avoids the usual aesthetic signifiers for this kinda thing, finding elements of queered beauty in all the severity, juxtaposing elements that shine a bright light on all the odd spaces in-between.

A consideration of noise music's place in 2024, and whether it can still be a tool for subversion when its aesthetics have been so commodified, ‘Provoke’ also refernces an experimental '70s Japanese art magazine that attempted to define a new language for photography. Operating somewhere between these two guiding poles, Lasse feels his way through a subtly altered mode of expression, a new approach to familiar concepts. Album opener ‘Plates’, for example, gives it the full Ø treatment, like some exceptional ‘Oleva’-outtake, but , eventually, shards of interference start to exhale like horses blowing, creating uncanny sensations that hit through ambiguous feeling rather than sheer noise terror. Ritualistic, corporeal - hard to know what you’re listening to and why it makes you feel that certain way - so much more than just machine cycles optimised for their ultimately hollow brutalist aesthetic.

Marhaug paints vivid pictures from a carefully chosen palette, drawing us into a soundworld that's rich with contradictions and contrasts. Even the relatively deafening 'New Topographics' offsets its wall of distortion with a muffled, perforating kick drum, cutting into the noise like a knife through butter. And all of this preparation makes the album's lengthy centrepiece 'Monochrome Head' even more impactful; hinging on a Pan Sonic-like alloy of bass and drums, the track snowballs through tempered feedback and improv scrapes and whistles that pick up into an orchestral din. Marhaug accents the bluster with rhythmic hums that gather in momentum until they're almost oppressively heavy, as if everything's about to collapse.

A masterclass in quietly subversive world-building, 'Provoke' invites us to peer at an expansive sonic landscape and marvel at its intricacies, but this time around there's a Lovecraftian behemoth lurking somewhere beneath its icy surface.

Cosmic Breeze Records is happy to announce “The Long Way Up”, the second record from our label, featuring a split format showcasing the latest works of Toolate Groove and Bass Toast. As purveyors of soulful music, we pour love into every release, cohesively blending different genres such as House and Broken Beat creating music that speaks to our souls.”The Long Way Up” shows our belief and curiosity in blending both club-oriented and laid-back soulful music. We believe that through music, we can unite and express ourselves in the most true and transparent way, while revealing the depths of our souls.

“A lot of people run to see who’s fastest. I merely run to feel the breeze.”

Greetings from Brussels,

Alex & Seb

»Nuts of Ay«, the thirteenth album by the Berlin-based electronic pop duo Tarwater (Ronald Lippok and Bernd Jestram), is their first in a decade, since 2014’s »Adrift«. Beautifully poised and smartly dressed, it's an album that draws Tarwater’s various pasts into a high-definition present, while bringing the duo, yet again, into productive dialogue with all kinds of fellow travellers.

Tarwater’s music has always been marked by a hypnotic pop-ness, but that’s particularly evident on »Nuts of Ay«, where a song like »Hideous Kiss« weaves together jangling guitar, pastoral flute, and flittering electronics into a gem-like construction. While the lyrics of »Hideous Kiss« are written by the duo, »Nuts of Ay« also continues a longstanding Tarwater tradition of recasting the words of others in their own mould. This time, their remit is broad: poetry from Derek Jarman (»All Nuns«) and Millner Place (»Trapdoor Spider«); lyrics from Jean Kenbrovin (»I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles«), the late Shane MacGowan (»USA«) and, again, John Lennon (»Everybody Had a Hard Year«).

This cast of found and borrowed lyricists also finds collaborative echo in the guest musicians dotted throughout »Nuts of Ay«. Schneider TM turns up on the lovely, Felt-like »Spirit of Flux«, where guitars channel the tangled reveries of Vini Reilly and Maurice Deebank into lush pop. Carsten Nicolai joins, as Alva Noto, dappling »On Waves and Years« with intimate glitching textures; he also provides the album cover art. Elsewhere, Masha Qrella appears on »Down Comes the Goose«, and actor Lars Rudolph pitches in for »USA«.

It may have been ten years since the album's predecessor, but Lippok and Jestram have kept active with other projects. They’ve collaborated with Masha Qrella, Immersion, and Iggy Pop; worked on radio plays with Kai Grehn, some based on the writing of Nick Cave (»The Sick Bag Song«, featuring Tilda Swinton, Paula Beer and Alexander Fehling) and William S. Burroughs (»The Cat Inside«); and made music for several radio-tatorts (radio plays based on »Tatort«, a long-running German police TV series) by playwright Tom Peuckert.

Both voracious and committed in their creative energies, Jestram and Lippok report back from these experiments with »Nuts of Ay«, one of their most compelling, deeply lustrous, dreamlike albums yet. They say there was no concept for the album, which is surprising, perhaps, given its holistic mood, explaining it »grew together like a coral reef in the studio over a period of several years«. There’s something to be said for letting an album gather and mutate naturally, without an overarching framework in place, and »Nuts of Ay« certainly feels like an unforced collection of material that nonetheless inhabits a similar space, one where guitars twist like driftwood next to amorphous, aqueous electronics, Lippok’s droll yet completely convincing vocal delivery riding songs that pulse and plume with curious, unpredictable rhythms.

But you can also hear elements – submerged but still present – of other music that’s inspired the duo: they’ve drawn some connections for us with psychedelic folk, Bowie in Berlin, Burial, and the film music of Popol Vuh and Krzysztof Komeda. This music shares a strong sense of place – whether in the world, or the mind – and the twelve songs on »Nuts of Ay« have such similar presence; a shared mood, a shared world, a shared sense of the possibilities of what electronic pop music could, and should, be. A bold and brave pop experiment.

Artwork by Carsten Nicolai
Mastering by Bo Kondren, Calyx Berlin

»Trapdoor Spider«, »On Waves and Years« & »Breaking Day«: lyrics by Milner Place
»All Nuns«: lyrics by Derek Jarman
»USA«: lyrics by Shane MacGowan
»Down Comes the Goose«: lyrics from a traditional song
»Forever Blowing Bubbles«: lyrics by Jaan Kenbrovin
»Everybody Had a Hard Year«: lyrics by John Lennon

Robin Carolan's latest soundtrack for Robert Eggers' highly anticipated Nosferatu is a haunting, gothic-infused and meticulously crafted work that draws from a vast palette of sounds, instruments, and inspirations. Following their successful collaboration on The Northman, Carolan reunites with Eggers to bring the legendary tale of Nosferatu to life, infusing the film with a score that is as complex and nuanced as the story itself. With Daniel Pioro, one of Britain's most exciting young classical musicians, at the helm as the orchestra leader and first chair for a vast majority of the recording, the soundtrack features a vast orchestration, including 60 string players, a full choir, various horns and woodwinds, a harpist, and two percussionists. Despite the grandeur of the orchestration, one of the most challenging pieces was the music box used at the film's beginning. Carolan and Eggers struggled to perfect its sound, a process marked by their meticulous attention to detail, which Carolan describes as almost telepathic. Set in the 1800s, Nosferatu allowed Carolan to incorporate contemporary instrumentation, though he made a deliberate effort to ensure the score didn't sound overly modern. Letty Stott, who also worked on The Northman, contributed ancient horns and pipes, enhancing the soundtrack's eerie atmosphere. Additionally, percussionist Paul Clarvis custom-built a toaca-like instrument for added authenticity. Carolan's inspirations for the soundtrack were as eclectic as they were profound. He frequently drew upon the works of Bartok and Coil, while films like The Innocents, Angels and Insects, and Eyes Wide Shut provided cinematic inspiration. Additionally, he explored the more obscure side of Hammer Horror soundtracks and found a deep connection to the music of the Ukrainian film The Eve of Ivan Kupalo, which helped shape the score's otherworldly tone. Carolan intentionally moved beyond the typical horror score, focusing on capturing the tale's melancholy and tragic elements while weaving in a sense of warped romanticism. The result is a soundtrack that not only complements the film but also stands on its own as a testament to Carolan's artistry and the enduring power of collaboration.

Robin Carolan's latest soundtrack for Robert Eggers' highly anticipated Nosferatu is a haunting, gothic-infused and meticulously crafted work that draws from a vast palette of sounds, instruments, and inspirations. Following their successful collaboration on The Northman, Carolan reunites with Eggers to bring the legendary tale of Nosferatu to life, infusing the film with a score that is as complex and nuanced as the story itself. With Daniel Pioro, one of Britain's most exciting young classical musicians, at the helm as the orchestra leader and first chair for a vast majority of the recording, the soundtrack features a vast orchestration, including 60 string players, a full choir, various horns and woodwinds, a harpist, and two percussionists. Despite the grandeur of the orchestration, one of the most challenging pieces was the music box used at the film's beginning. Carolan and Eggers struggled to perfect its sound, a process marked by their meticulous attention to detail, which Carolan describes as almost telepathic. Set in the 1800s, Nosferatu allowed Carolan to incorporate contemporary instrumentation, though he made a deliberate effort to ensure the score didn't sound overly modern. Letty Stott, who also worked on The Northman, contributed ancient horns and pipes, enhancing the soundtrack's eerie atmosphere. Additionally, percussionist Paul Clarvis custom-built a toaca-like instrument for added authenticity. Carolan's inspirations for the soundtrack were as eclectic as they were profound. He frequently drew upon the works of Bartok and Coil, while films like The Innocents, Angels and Insects, and Eyes Wide Shut provided cinematic inspiration. Additionally, he explored the more obscure side of Hammer Horror soundtracks and found a deep connection to the music of the Ukrainian film The Eve of Ivan Kupalo, which helped shape the score's otherworldly tone. Carolan intentionally moved beyond the typical horror score, focusing on capturing the tale's melancholy and tragic elements while weaving in a sense of warped romanticism. The result is a soundtrack that not only complements the film but also stands on its own as a testament to Carolan's artistry and the enduring power of collaboration.

Not at all dangerous, but no less powerful and devoted to one another, the Coppola family have loomed large in film and the arts for decades.
The head of this particular family was not a Don lurking in the shadows, but a brilliant composer arranger and conductor: Carmine Coppola.
On the face of it, this album is a bit of a curiosity, though it was surely the first recording to bring together music from both Godfather films in this way.
Its original release coincided with a high-profile television event called The Godfather: A Novel for Television (also known as The Godfather Saga).

The extended cut necessarily featured additional music and arrangements, which were overseen by Carmine Coppola.
We can safely assume that at least some of that forms part of what is included in The Godfather Suite. For it, Coppola selected and re-arranged musical highlights from the two films,
including all of Rota’s main themes and his own source music pieces, creating what is essentially a 14-part symphonic suite.

It’s all rather beautifully executed, with great romantic flourishes, and it’s a fitting tribute to Carmine Coppola’s talent, not to mention his contribution to two legendary films.
Carmine Coppola himself passed away just months after the release of The Godfather Part III. A highlight of that final score is the ‘Love Theme’,
which was the basis of Carmine Coppola and lyricist John Bettis’s Oscar-nominated original song ‘Promise Me You’ll Remember’. The instrumental arrangement is included here in addition to the Suite.

On alene et, Michaela Turcerová, a Copenhagen-based, Slovakia born musician, takes minutiae — the tiniest scrapes and breathiest hums — and distorts them into sprawling, collaged webs that barely resemble the instrument in its natural state. Each shard, when pieced together, makes a rhythmic, undulating sound born from the subtlest motions.

Alene et marks Turcerová’s debut as a soloist, putting a spotlight on the exploratory approach she has developed on her own and across a variety of collaborations. She has long studied the quiet excavation of her instrument, pulling it apart to find a new vocabulary. To develop this language, she unearths shards of sound from the instrument, muting it or bringing out its scratchiness and grittiness. Primarily working with open-ended scores and improvisation, she is inspired by various percussive music, looking to deep sonic awareness to guide her. As a soloist, her music harkens to the abstracted electronics present across the Editions Mego catalog or the distorted ruminations of Nyege Nyege tapes. And no matter where she goes, she is constantly in the pursuit of the unknown — the hidden elements of music that come to life through experimentation and listening.

With alene et, Turcerová presents her singular language on the saxophone to the fullest. To make this music, she placed many microphones close to her instrument, zeroing in to each sound and examining it from multiple different angles. She emphasizes the percussive possibilities of her instrument, puzzle-piecing each note into pulsating webs. Each track highlights a different side of the saxophone — the bristling distortion and amplification of a column of air as it blows through her saxophone’s body, the trickling tapping of the keys as she places her fingers onto them.

At its core, alene et presents Turcerová’s curiosity. The saxophone lives many different lives within her hands, shapeshifting through the uncovering of its possibilities. She shows us how the instrument is an ever-changing entity, a distorted and blown out drone with a thousand shards poking out from inside of it. But more than just a showcase of an individual instrument, alene et feels like a statement of the act of exploration. Turcerová is an excavator, always looking for new worlds hidden within her saxophone, and leaving room for more to come alive with each listen.

Equal parts soft and sorrowful, Myriam Gendron’s stunning Not So Deep As A Well LP became something of a sleeper hit upon its initial release back in 2014. Her debut album shone a warm lamp-light glow upon a curious and captivating new voice in the Quebecois folk world.
Nearly ten years on from its release in her native Canada and America, Not So Deep As A Well gets a European release for the first time this autumn, with a new pressing on the Basin Rock label (Julie Byrne, Aoife Nessa Frances, Trevor Beales, Juni Habel) which features two tracks not included on the original release - ‘Bric-à-brac’ and ‘The Small Hours’ - both written and recorded in the early days of 2014.
Recorded alone in her apartment, with no knowledge of sound engineering, it could almost be a lost artefact, a dust-lined document of a forgotten time and place. Taking the poems of Dorothy Parker, whose work Gendron stumbled upon by chance in a Montreal bookstore, she imbues the words with a graceful, gentle expression, a lingering sense of sorrow always present.
A stark, spellbinding collection, Not So Deep As A Well is raw and unyielding in so many ways we no longer expect to hear. As if sitting in the room with her, Gendron’s voice is cracked and unadorned, quietly forced into a push and pull between

As with most things, this project started with a conversation in the pub between me and Martin.

As we discussed what J-Walk and BiD could do next we chatted about our mutual love of DIY, Post Punk, Reggae, Digital & Dub, how about using that feel as an initial jump off on the next thing and see how you get on? I suggested.
As is his way Martin considered the suggestion, then promptly disappeared, 6 weeks later something landed in my inbox, it was titled Broken Beauty and the music contained embraced all those symbiotic ideals and culture.
Nailed it!
Recorded entirely in Stockport using a mixed kit bag of cheap forgotten keyboards, guitar, bass and effects pedals, this LP takes the J-Walk aesthetic and applies the wider palette of these influences to create something unique, those past and present influences forged together to bring you something truly DIY - instructions below.
How To Make Such A Thing...

Deactivate social media. Ignore the internet, don't answer text messages, avoid other music, the telly and other people. This is a process where it's only you in the room with whatever's in your mind. You will be there for some time and the loneliness can hurt a little.

Forget any predetermined ideas. Forget everything you've ever done before. This is an opportunity to start from scratch, but with years of accumulated knowledge and craftsmanship. Trust yourself.
Be scared. Be excited about not knowing what will happen and what will result.

Don't use midi sequencing, virtual instruments or samples. Just plug a toy instrument into an amp, press a rhythm and play around to see what happens. If it sounds good and fresh then record it. Plug a bass in to jam around and you'll soon hear and feel what sits in the pocket of the beat. Record it as it is. Dirty is real and good. Cleanliness equals sterility. Loop the bassline. Plug a guitar in and do the same.

Don't think when doing any of this. Just experiment with interest and curiosity and the music will take care of itself. You will now have a groove which is also about half a song minimum. Play some keys from the toys on top of what you have. Put 'em through effects pedals. Again, don't overthink it and don't try to get it clean. Add sound effects in right and random places.

There you go. Something you've never made before. But more importantly, it's something you've never heard before.

You don't have to die to be reincarnated.

BROKEN BEAUTY...You can't be either without also having been the other.

When the quartet of Luke Martin, Gabriel Salomon, Klaus Janek and Andy Graydon gathered to record an afternoon of sessions in Andy's studio, it was both the result of years of cultivation and an afterthought. Klaus and Andy had been long-time, and now long-distance, collaborators since their shared years in Berlin. That city was also where Andy was introduced to Gabriel at one of his solo performances by their mutual friend, the painter Paul McDevitt. Years passed, and cities. After meeting and working together in Boston, Luke and Andy both found themselves transplanted to Minneapolis. And by happenstance Gabriel arrived a few years later. A new conversation was just starting to emerge when Klaus announced his arrival, stopping by on a North American tour. Suddenly the four got a chance to listen and play together performing on a bill at a local gallery, in one configuration or another, for the first time. Packing up after that show, Klaus leaned over to ask, "isn't there a moment we could meet again, to play?"

Nothing was expected, and so anything was possible. The circumstances lent their gathering an impromptu but grounded feeling, a unique mix of chance encounter and reunion. As befits an opening encounter, the focus was as often on listening to the unfolding sonic conversation as it was on making a recording. Everyone seemed to intuit the direction despite not knowing where they were headed. The four faced each other in a loose circle surrounded by speakers and microphones pointed haphazardly, as likely to catch the dog padding around curiously as the bowing of strings or rattling of a cymbal. The permissive spirit of the day was declared early, just before rolling, when Gabriel asked if we should close the studio windows or leave them open. "You know what my answer is," replied Luke. If it's in the nature of a recording to become fixed, to be bottled up, let us at least leave open the windows to hear what might be coming next.

The two separate double vinyl sets are now available that correlate to the triple CD released earlier this year. TMTCH stumbled into existence onstage at the Alternative Country Festival, Electric Ballroom, Camden on Easter Sunday in 1984; after a long afternoon busking and drinking in a Hammersmith subway. They knew three chords and a hundred songs all of which sounded a bit the same, a frenzied skiffle that was exciting to jump around and drink snakebite to. If they thought about longevity at all, a lifespan of 40 days seemed most likely. It's forty years later and they are still running. Since those early days, and without much of a game plan other than always stepping onward, TMTCH have released around 20 albums plus many side projects, bootlegs, curios and an unknown number of T shirts. They've toured constantly, whether in dingy pub backrooms or Grand Ballrooms and Festival Stages. From Cairo to Reykjavik and all points in between, the TMTCH roadshow has shambled and thrilled through the decades, always passionate, always literate, occasionally dishevelled. Forty years of recording has spawned a vast back catalogue, well represented here by songs from each album, style and era; a tapestry of human stories and vibrant characters. So there are the fast sprints like early folk hoedown 'Ironmasters', the frantic shanty 'Raising Hell' and the amphetamine punk blues of 'Going Back to Coventry'. Then there are the waltzing folk ballads, from their impassioned version of the anti war standard 'Green Fields Of France' to the bitter regret of 'The Bells' and the righteous testimony of 'Our Day'. Elsewhere there are anthems galore; 'The Crest' a swirling gaelic chant, 'Rosettes', a fast marching assault of drums, fiddles and mandolins; historical epics such as 'Ghosts Of Cable Street', 'Shirt of Blue' and 'The Colours'; romantic ballads like the wistful 'Parted From You' and 'Island in The Rain'. All the eras are here; from the wiry lo fi of the first album, through the eighties into full blown MTV ready multi trackers with vast charging drums; the initial simplicity of their recipe deepening and darkening. And then on through the nineties, noughties and tens; always the double pronged vocals drifting between harmony and unison, always the celtic, folk and country tones vying for attention, the emotive fiddle, the top end mandolin above the thundering rhythm section. On through bouffant hair, spiky hair, dyed hair, thin hair and hats; on through Grunge, Baggy, Madchester, Rave, Britpop. On through the Miner's Strike, Poll Tax, New Labour, Iraq and Brexit. On through marriage, children, loss and revival. Forty years at the working end of rock and roll is a feat achieved by very few bands. It requires tremendous chemistry, a deep catalogue; both panoramic and miniature, a vital and irrepressible energy, all of which is on resplendent display in this sprawling 3 disc compilation. But most of all it requires an intense resilience, something that TMTCH possess in spades. Forty years on the run; was ever a band so aptly named?

Names You Can Trust presents the third release in its Swing-A-Ling "Now Sounds" 7-inch series, a limited collection of record presses celebrating the label's long-running summertime Jamaican music dance and cookout that takes place in the relatively undiscovered enclaves of the Flatlands neighborhood of Brooklyn. In the spirit of the Swing-A-Ling event, the "Now Sounds" series focuses on the unreleased, never-to-be-released, or utterly underground gems that may have otherwise been locked in the vaults for years to come. This year, the series resurrects a definitive tasty treat for the Fall and upcoming Halloween season, a picturesque capture of obscure early-70's cinematic darkness, featuring an ode to horror-style DJ toasting and its accompanying haunted hammond organ cut, courtesy of the curious and spectral stage name Vincent Price & The Young Spirits. As always, the Swing-A-Ling series has been touched up sonically at the NYCT studio HQ in Brooklyn, then mastered and cut by renown London engineer Frank Merritt at The Carvery for maximum sound system engagement.

Michael Mayer albums don’t come round too often, which is one of many reasons why his fourth collection, The Floor Is Lava, is a genuine event. It’s been eight years since his last one, the collaborative & released on !K7; its predecessors, Mantasy (2012) and Touch (2004), took their sweet time, too. It’s no real surprise, given the many hats Mayer wears – globetrotting DJ, revered remixer, inveterate collaborator, and boss of both Kompakt and Imara – that his solo productions are relatively sparing. But this also speaks to their quality: Mayer’s name on a record sleeve is a sign of quality, of music that’s both looking to the future and calling back to the past, that balances the imperatives of the dancefloor and the loungeroom, that’s as exploratory as it is functional.

On The Floor Is Lava, Mayer seems to be taking the temperature of both the music that surrounds him (past and present), and the ides of the industry he works within. There’s that iconic album title, for a start. “The album’s mindset,” he says, reflecting on those four words together. For Mayer, it’s partly a critique of the way the industry boxes in both producer and listener, focuses them on genre, on market, on the next new thing: “Being a free minded spirit that transcends genres has become an uphill battle.” A battle worth fighting, though, and with The Floor Is Lava, the result is an album that’s varied, quixotic, idiosyncratic, charming, and deeply, addictively listenable.

Throughout, Mayer finds thrills in exploration and juxtaposition, allowing unexpected things to blossom and giving them their life, their platform, throwing the listener exciting curveballs: “It’s a DJ album by a DJ that’s easily bored.” Either easily bored, or endlessly curious, The Floor Is Lava is rich with ideas. It opens with “The Problem”, which looks back to look forward, embracing the rickety way early house productions threw samples together with gleeful abandon. Mayer mentions Pal Joey, and the scene around Rockers Hi-Fi and their Different Drummer imprint, as reference points, and you can hear that freewheeling spirit throughout.

It’s followed by “Vagus”, a slinky, sensual minimal house number that Mayer describes as his “musical catnip”. The flow of these two opening cuts defines the dynamic of The Floor Is Lava, defining the dialectical drive at its core: thesis and antithesis leads to synthesis, but with a welcome prickliness that means you’re always excited, always engaged. It’s also productive in the way it derives energy from rubbing genres and sounds against each other, in unexpected ways, for maximum musical frisson. There’s psychedelic techno on “Feuerstuhl”, more minimal techno with “Ardor” (Mayer mentions ‘Immer 1’ era 90s minimal as inspiration), slippery, Shepard-tone breakbeat through “Sycophant”, a lovely, lush vocal turn on the poppy “The Solution”.

The album closes with the melancholy “Süßer Schlaf”, where Mayer sets a poem by Goethe to one of his most haunted, moving pieces of music yet, in abstract tribute to a lost friend. It’s one of the most affecting moments on The Floor Is Lava. There’s also an update on 2020’s wild Brainwave Technology EP, with the surrealist glitter-stomp of “Brainwave 2.0” (check out those handclaps!),where Mayer’s thinking about the socio-political precipice of the now: “I’m reading with great interest about this whole complex of how humanity is about to cross so many lines and the implications that the resulting financial and educational inequality will bring.”

That’s The Floor Is Lava: then and now, brainwaves and nerve structures, problems and solutions, genres on fire; the real, the unreal, and the surreal. An album for the easily bored and the endlessly curious. Mayer has the last word, telling us all you need to know about the album’s spirit: “Burning for the cause, being zealous, being addicted to the heat of the night, the exuberant powers of music.”

Michael Mayer veröffentlicht nicht oft Alben, was einer von vielen Gründen ist, warum ‘The Floor Is Lava’ ein echtes Ereignis ist. Es sind acht Jahre vergangen seit seinem letzten Werk, dem Kollaborationsalbum &, das auf !K7 erschien; seine Vorgänger, Mantasy (2012) und Touch (2004), ließen ebenfalls auf sich warten. Es überrascht nicht wirklich, da Mayer viele Rollen gleichzeitig erfüllt – weltreisender DJ, vielbeschäftigter Remixer, unermüdlicher Kollaborateur und Chef von sowohl Kompakt als auch Imara – weshalb seine Solo-Produktionen eher sparsam ausfallen. Doch das spricht auch für deren Qualität: Ein Album mit Mayers Namen auf dem Cover steht für Qualität, für Musik, die sowohl in die Zukunft blickt als auch auf die Vergangenheit verweist, die das Gleichgewicht zwischen den Anforderungen des Dancefloors und des Wohnzimmers hält, die genauso erforschend wie funktional ist.

Auf The Floor Is Lava scheint Mayer sowohl die Musik um ihn herum (vergangen und gegenwärtig) als auch die Strömungen der Branche, in der er arbeitet, zu reflektieren. Da wäre zunächst der ikonische Albumtitel. „Die Grundhaltung des Albums“, sagt er, drückt sich in diesen vier Worte aus. Für Mayer ist es teilweise eine Kritik daran, wie die Industrie sowohl Produzenten als auch Hörer in Schubladen steckt, sie auf Genres, auf den Markt und auf das nächste große Ding fokussiert: „Ein freier Geist zu sein, der Genres überschreitet, ist zu einem steinigen Weg geworden.“ Ein Kampf, der sich jedoch lohnt, und mit The Floor Is Lava ist das Ergebnis ein Album, das vielfältig, eigenwillig, charmant und tiefsinnig, aber auch süchtig machend ist.

Im gesamten Album findet Mayer Freude an der Erforschung und Gegenüberstellung von Stilen, lässt unerwartete Dinge erblühen und gibt ihnen Raum, überrascht den Hörer mit spannenden Wendungen: „Es ist ein DJ-Album von einem DJ, der sich schnell langweilt.“ Entweder langweilt er sich schnell oder er ist unendlich neugierig – The Floor Is Lava ist reich an Ideen. Es beginnt mit „The Problem“, das in die Vergangenheit blickt, um nach vorne zu schauen, und die wilde Art, wie frühe House-Produktionen Samples mit fröhlicher Unbekümmertheit zusammenwarfen, aufgreift. Mayer nennt Pal Joey und die Szene um Rockers Hi-Fi und ihr Label Different Drummer als Referenzpunkte, und dieser freie Geist zieht sich durch das gesamte Album.

Es folgt „Vagus“, eine sinnliche Minimal-House-Nummer, die Mayer als seine „musikalische Katzenminze“ beschreibt. Der Fluss dieser beiden Eröffnungstracks definiert die Dynamik von The Floor Is Lava und den dialektischen Antrieb im Kern: These und Antithese führen zu einer Synthese, jedoch mit einer willkommenen Schärfe, die dafür sorgt, dass man immer aufgeregt und engagiert bleibt. Zudem gewinnt das Album Energie, indem es Genres und Klänge auf unerwartete Weise aneinanderreibt, um maximalen musikalischen Nervenkitzel zu erzeugen. Es gibt psychedelischen Techno in „Feuerstuhl“, mehr Minimal Techno mit „Ardor“ (Mayer erwähnt ‘Immer’ Ära Minimal als Bezugspunkt), gleitenden Shepard-Ton-Breakbeat in „Sycophant“ und einen lieblichen, üppigen Vocal-Auftritt im poppigen „The Solution“.

Das Album schließt mit dem melancholischen „Süßer Schlaf“, in dem Mayer ein Gedicht von Goethe vertont und eine seiner bisher eindringlichsten und bewegendsten musikalischen Kompositionen schafft, als abstrakten Tribut an eine verschiedene Freundin. Es ist einer der ergreifendsten Momente auf The Floor Is Lava. Ebenfalls gibt es ein Update der wilden Brainwave Technology-EP von 2020, mit dem surrealistischen Glitzer-Stampfer „Brainwave 2.0“ (hör dir diese Handclaps an!), in dem Mayer über den sozio-politischen Abgrund der Gegenwart nachdenkt: „Ich lese mit großem Interesse über diesen ganzen Komplex, wie die Menschheit dabei ist, so viele Grenzen zu überschreiten und welche Auswirkungen die daraus resultierende finanzielle und bildungstechnische Ungleichheit haben wird.“

Das ist The Floor Is Lava: Damals und heute, Gehirnwellen und Nervengeflechte, Probleme und Lösungen, brennende Genres; das Reale, das Unreale und das Surreale. Ein Album für die schnell Gelangweilten und die unendlich Neugierigen. Mayer hat das letzte Wort und sagt uns alles, was wir über den Geist des Albums wissen müssen: „Brennen für die Sache, leidenschaftlich sein, süchtig nach der Hitze der Nacht, den überschwänglichen Kräften der Musik.“

Time It Was Always Time, the debut duo release from Berke Can Özcan & Jonah Parzen-Johnson on We Jazz Records, is a refreshing and full-throated expression of joy and curiosity. In a year when 76 countries hold national elections and we find ourselves in an existential battle against apathy and cynicism, this effortlessly authentic album offers an innocent reminder that the antidote to stagnation is curiosity and the fuel for change is the joy of building something transformative together.

Collapsing new rhythms and industrial visions meet restless melodic vocals on Gateway, the debut album from San Francisco duo YANTRA on Swiss label Subject To Restrictions Discs. This isn’t dance music, but you will dance to it. It isn’t ritual music, but it will channel spirits.

The dreamer is still asleep. She awakens to heed the call. Curious downtempo drums, spartan and potent, animate the body. Running through the city, shadows dance on walls, and alluring voices, whispered, sung, and soaring, possess the mind. At the end of the path, gazing at the mirror’s edge, she finds the source of the voice—and realizes it’s her own.

YANTRA are artist-producer Yaniv de Ridder, also known by the alias YNV, and lyricist-vocalist-instrumentalist Janina Angel Bath. The pair have worked together for some time, beginning with YNV’s 2021 LP Golden Hour Ritual. On Western Paradox, a YNV EP released last year on Subject To Restrictions Discs, Bath contributed vocals—and so YANTRA, the project and the concept, was born. Working together, the pair craft new forms of transcendent sound, timeless and familiar all at once

No stranger to the Spatial family following the release of his excellent Age of Awareness EP back in 2023, Eusebeia brings his eclectic breakbeat driven vibes to sister label
Curvature for an EP spanning a variety of energies with a free-spirited approach to drum patterns and atmosphere you wont want to miss.

A1 Set In Motion
Shimmering melodic keys and light hi hats quietly introduce Set In Motion, as Eusebeia takes a laid back opening approach to his Curvature debut. Clean, wandering breaks enter the mix and develop continually, as a subtly used, luscious female vocal greets the listener with a curiously soothing vibe. Following the breakdown, a deep, pounding bassline punctuates skillful synthwork riddled with intrigue and atmosphere to round off
a unique, eclectic track.

A2 In Perpetuum
Stepping things up with a doggedly breakbeat focus, In Perpetuum is an energetic piece with an opening backdrop akin to an aging printer being coaxed back to life,
before an echoed vocal welcomes hyperactive, rasping breaks, edited and chopped with the scintillating talent we have come to expect from Eusebeia. The latter half of the
track changes up the vibe slightly with inquisitive padwork gliding above the omnipresent edits.

B1 Flow State
Subtle cowbell style cymbals and gentle melodies introduce Flow State, before an inimitable duality of old school atmospheric breaks pass the baton repeatedly through the track in typically impactful style from Eusebeia. The melodies and an understated bassline wrapped around kickdrums continues through the various phrases before the beats depart, leaving the listener to reflect on a truly captivating track just as the title
suggests.

B2 The Cure For What Ails You Reverberating percussion and classic whale sounds instantly grasp your attention
before ominous 808 bass ushers in a thunderous helping of pure amen pleasure sent straight from the old school - edited and programmed to perfection by Eusebeia with a
finesse seldom seen in modern production. Dense kickdrums vibe perfectly with the highs and mids of a track destined to headline many an atmospheric junglists set.

Flame is Slow collects together three acclaimed seven-inch EPs (originally released on the Noisebox label in 1996 and 1997) by the mysterious, mercurial Navigator. The post-Loveless UK underground of the early 1990s was a vibrant place, despite what music biographies may tell you. What might now be lumped together as “post-rock” was in fact a varied and forward-thinking group of artists creating inquisitive music in the wake of the grunge goldrush. Contemporaries such as Hood, Flying Saucer Attack, Movietone and – of course – Mogwai and Arab Strap are rightfully seen as timeless nearly thirty years on but they’re really just the tip of the iceberg. Navigator might get mentioned less but their story is every bit as intriguing as any of their peers. Navigator formed in Norwich in 1994. Their music was consistently introspective and melancholic, but their brief existence of five years saw them move rapidly from traditional song structures towards noise, found sound, free improvisation, electronics, primitive instrument building and – ultimately - silence. They were an enigma back then and they remain so now. They released four seven inches before a solitary album Nostalgie (1997, Swarf Finger Records). Each release felt different to the last but always intimate and peculiar. Their use of sound and space is nothing short of magical. Rough and unsettling textures rub against each other, selected and mixed instinctively. Another band’s discarded mistake becomes a key element in their hands. The band received much acclaim and some genuine commercial success when single When the Wires Fall ended up in the indie charts. They shared stages with Low, David Thomas, Aerial M, Stars Of The Lid and Labradford and toured with Mogwai and Arab Strap culminating in the now-notorious, equipment-levelling performance at The Garage in London. The original version of the group played live for the last time in 1999 before quietly disappearing. It was perhaps inevitable that a band so committed to exploring and refining their sound should end by removing themselves from it entirely. Aside from a brief (and excellent) reformation in 2006 and a CDR compilation of those early seven inches, Navigator have been quiet for over 20 years until now. Flame is Slow assembles the blue, red and green Noisebox EPs into one cohesive album-length collection, remastered with care and reassembled by the band. It rightfully places Navigator where they belong – as one of the most curious, adventurous, and beautiful groups this island has ever produced. “Whenever I think of bands that more people should’ve heard than did, I always think about Navigator. It’s great that the music they made is going to be available again as it is truly special and deserves to be heard by more people” – Stuart Braithwaite

Black Pus is the guttural, raw, freeform project of singular drummer, vocalist, & artist Brian Chippendale. A heavy drum foundation and distorted electronics anchor Black Pus" sound, and remain directly connected to the intensity of Chippendale"s legendary duo with Brian Gibson, Lightning Bolt. Recorded at Machines with Magnets by engineer Seth Manchester, Terrestrial Seethings is pure energy, pure Black Pus, capturing the precision, frenzy, and ecstatic performance in all its glory. After more than a decade playing and improvising, Chippendale"s imagination and curiosity continue to push his world of twisted joy in expressive new directions. While known primarily for his iconic style of drumming with Lightning Bolt, Chippendale has also worked alongside artists such as Björk, The Flaming Lips, Boredoms, Andrew W.K., and Lee "Scratch" Perry. Outside of music related endeavors, Chippendale has made a name for himself as a renowned painter and painterly silk screen artist. Known for his frenetic color work, for Terrestrial Seethings Brian created striking black drawings that, like its title, pervert assumptions. Chippendale"s approach to crafting music as Black Pus mirrors his restless and indomitable spirit as a creator. His daily practice of making music and art on his own is both as meditative and cathartic, as it is inquisitive and spontaneous.

Black Pus is the guttural, raw, freeform project of singular drummer, vocalist, & artist Brian Chippendale. A heavy drum foundation and distorted electronics anchor Black Pus" sound, and remain directly connected to the intensity of Chippendale"s legendary duo with Brian Gibson, Lightning Bolt. Recorded at Machines with Magnets by engineer Seth Manchester, Terrestrial Seethings is pure energy, pure Black Pus, capturing the precision, frenzy, and ecstatic performance in all its glory. After more than a decade playing and improvising, Chippendale"s imagination and curiosity continue to push his world of twisted joy in expressive new directions. While known primarily for his iconic style of drumming with Lightning Bolt, Chippendale has also worked alongside artists such as Björk, The Flaming Lips, Boredoms, Andrew W.K., and Lee "Scratch" Perry. Outside of music related endeavors, Chippendale has made a name for himself as a renowned painter and painterly silk screen artist. Known for his frenetic color work, for Terrestrial Seethings Brian created striking black drawings that, like its title, pervert assumptions. Chippendale"s approach to crafting music as Black Pus mirrors his restless and indomitable spirit as a creator. His daily practice of making music and art on his own is both as meditative and cathartic, as it is inquisitive and spontaneous.

Leya Touch & soFa elsewhere aka Dream Baby Dream combine their left-of-centre musical perspectives on an otherworldly new self-titled album that arrives on Hell Yeah this September and will get a Japanese domestic release on CD. The duo's beguiling mix of occult synths and treated vocals ride dubbed-out mid-tempo rhythms on a retro-futurist record that blends cold wave, cosmic disco, dub and trance.

Dream Baby Dream describes themselves as "two children who refused to grow up" and now they offer a glimpse into their very own fantastic land of dreams. This journey into diverse flavours spontaneously started after a cosy dinner and after just three sessions resulted in the album presented here. Playful yet sometimes gloomy, this music echoes life, both imaginary and real - the highs, the lows, the dark moments and the joy, trance-inducted love zones, daydreams and everything in between. It is a coherent hole but one filled with surprising turns, moments of deja vu and plenty of outsider dance floor delights.

Leya Touch is a rising voice and live act on the Brussels alternative scene. Together with soFa, a veteran DJ and producer who released on many forward-thinking labels worldwide, they provide signature vocals and synths that challenge typical genre categorisations.

Opener 'Love Zone' sets a strangely seductive basic channel vs dreamy pop vibe with wispy cosmic melodies and oodles of echoes as Touch's vocals draw you in. Lose limbed percussive jumbled and sci-fi motifs define 'Badalamenti On Fries', 'Curry Con Sax' has an avant-guard sense of soul and melodic curiousness and 'Diskoteka' is a jittery mix of retro synth sounds and whispered vocal coos that shimmer like stars in the night sky. Elsewhere there's the malfunctioning Kraftwerkian electronics of 'Körperkonsum', goa-filter madness of 'Banana Trance' and the eerie interplanetary dub of 'Carpenter On The Beach' while 'Whale Rider' and 'The Rude Red Lady' bring warped lines and enchanting vocalisations that sound like nothing you have heard before.

This is an exultant album of new musical rituals, tiny soundscapes, dehumanised words and combinations of the past, present and future that never fail to excite and intrigue.

Limited to 300 copies

What we hear on SICK! is the most realized version of Earl to date: a man with the same wandering spirit as before, but with a newfound command of his celebrity. This Earl is far more serene and grounded in who he really is. You feel his curiosity when speaking with him; his thoughts tend to land broadly and touch on everything from African literature to spiritual jazz and ’90s hip-hop before centering on himself. When asked to unpack his own narrative, he tends to speak in terms of we and not I, leaning on the group aesthetic to explain his own rise. The emphasis isn’t surprising, given Earl’s recent love of fellowship, but for an artist who made his name as a loner, his optimism is refreshing to hear. For an album born out of seclusion, SICK! is a moving ode to evolution. As always, Earl is a testament to the healing powers of honesty and self-awareness.

Dawn Richard and Spencer Zahn share a common collaborative ethos, a genuine sense of musical curiosity, and a cosmopolitan eagerness to escape the conventions of genre. That shared vision first brought them together on 2022's Pigments_icy and warm, stripped-down and grand, familiar and otherworldly_and now it has reunited them for Quiet in a World Full of Noise. By turns intimate, soul-baring, spectral, and startling, Quiet in a World Full of Noise blends atmospheric and orchestral soundscapes with mellifluous soul, jazz, and journalistic vocalizing_driving it all home with stark, confessional lyricism. The new album finds Richard at her most raw and exposed. This year, Richard's musician father experienced mini strokes while being diagnosed with cancer; and last year, her cousin Cisco was fatally shot seven times in New Orleans. Richard channels the emotional impact of these traumatic experiences of loss into her lyrics and vocal performances, which are left bare and human here, raw and unprocessed across the album. Quiet expands the definitions of what constitutes progressive, avant-garde R&B by rewriting them altogether. On paper, Richard and Zahn's audacious, impressionistic musical collaborations feel like a surprising match. Richard, a New Orleans-reared visionary, has had an improbable journey from late 2000s reality television and mainstream pop with girl group Danity Kane to become one of the most prolific, experimental, and visible indie R&B singer-songwriters of the last decade and a half, with seven solo albums under her belt. Zahn is an East Coast-raised multi-instrumentalist and composer working at the intersections of jazz, Americana, classical, and ambient pop. His growing solo discography includes People of the Dawn, Sunday Painter, Pale Horizon, and Statues I & II, as well as the duo's first release, Pigments. "Pigments was one of the best projects I've ever made," Richard says, "and the furthest I've ever been pushed as an artist." The album was a critical hit, hailed as Best New Music by Pitchfork and receiving praise from Stereogum as Album of the Week, NPR Music, Bandcamp Daily, The Fader, Bitter Southerner, and Edition, among many other publications. The making of its follow-up, Quiet in a World Full of Noise, began in 2023 in upstate New York. Fresh from a break-up, Zahn sat at his piano and poured himself into writing and recording instrumental compositions. "I wrote all these stream-of-consciousness pieces on piano, and they were eerie, spacious piano tracks," he said. He used a piano that had been unconventionally tuned to the room rather than to standard pitch. These oddly-tuned, eerie instrumental recordings were never intended to be an album. Six months later, he listened to the recordings again and sent them to Richard who immediately recognized their potential and said, "Oh, this is the next album." Richard went into the studio the next day and wrote and recorded melodies and lyrics to Zahn's piano recordings. Zahn brought in gifted musicians like Bryan Senti on strings (violin, viola, and violoncello da spalla) and CJ Camerieri on brass (French horn, flugelhorn, and trumpet). In some cases, like on the track "Life in Numbers," Zahn used only the original first-take piano recording and scratch vocal, resulting in an intimate close-up of both Richard and Zahn.

A1 - Desire
Opening the EP in quietly epic fashion, Desire begins with a delightful beat pattern with adistinctive cymbal hit set over warm bass tones and whale song samples. A smooth, thoughtful bass melody is introduced which joyfully intersects with gorgeous piano keys while swirling strings and atmospheric vibes layer and recede like tides of the ocean, creating a truly unique journey of a track that will linger anywhere it may be heard.

A2 - Voidscaping
Instantly setting the scene with crisp, striking breaks, Voidscaping is an atmospheric treatfor the senses with serene throwback pads reminiscent of the halcyon days of Good Looking. Bringing the piece up to date for the Spatial era is the typically intricate blending of reflection and intrigue ASC conjures with his sampling and reverb work, effortlessly thickening the soundscape with memories old and new.

AA1 - Let Go
Opening with the vibrant sounds of twilight nature and metallic bongos, ASC sparinglydeploys a glorious choral vocal before the breaks take off with an energetic pattern drivenby constant, playful hi hats. As the track develops, questions are asked of the listener bythe curious atmosphere, gradually unraveling with strings, synths and trademark vocalusage, offering a new perspective with each listen.

AA2 - Meltdown
A darkly, anxious undertone floods the mix as Meltdown grips the listener from the first barwith skillfully sequenced minimal breaks, hi hats that whoosh in and out like evening crickets you can't quite track, and intense ambient padwork. A longing female vocal occasionally yearns over the various melodies which enter at will, discreetly developing the mood with purpose, unfurling a stream of aural consciousness from this incredible producer.
Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Dawn Richard and Spencer Zahn share a common collaborative ethos, a genuine sense of musical curiosity, and a cosmopolitan eagerness to escape the conventions of genre. That shared vision first brought them together on 2022’s Pigments icy and warm, stripped-down and grand, familiar and otherworldly and now it has reunited them for Quiet in a World Full of Noise. By turns intimate, soul-baring, spectral, and startling, Quiet in a World Full of Noise blends atmospheric and orchestral soundscapes with mellifluous soul, jazz, and journalistic vocalizing driving it all home with stark, confessional lyricism. The new album finds Richard at her most raw and exposed. This year, Richard’s musician father experienced mini strokes while being diagnosed with cancer; and last year, her cousin Cisco was fatally shot seven times in New Orleans. Richard channels the emotional impact of these traumatic experiences of loss into her lyrics and vocal performances, which are left bare and human here, raw and unprocessed across the album. Quiet expands the definitions of what constitutes progressive, avant-garde R&B by rewriting them altogether. On paper, Richard and Zahn’s audacious, impressionistic musical collaborations feel like a surprising match. Richard, a New Orleans–reared visionary, has had an improbable journey from late 2000s reality television and mainstream pop with girl group Danity Kane to become one of the most prolific, experimental, and visible indie R&B singer-songwriters of the last decade and a half, with seven solo albums under her belt. Zahn is an East Coast–raised multi-instrumentalist and composer working at the intersections of jazz, Americana, classical, and ambient pop. His growing solo discography includes People of the Dawn, Sunday Painter, Pale Horizon, and Statues I & II, as well as the duo’s first release, Pigments. “Pigments was one of the best projects I’ve ever made,” Richard says, “and the furthest I’ve ever been pushed as an artist.” The album was a critical hit, hailed as Best New Music by Pitchfork and receiving praise from Stereogum as Album of the Week, NPR Music, Bandcamp Daily, The Fader, Bitter Southerner, and Edition, among many other publications. The making of its follow-up, Quiet in a World Full of Noise, began in 2023 in upstate New York. Fresh from a break-up, Zahn sat at his piano and poured himself into writing and recording instrumental compositions. “I wrote all these stream-of-consciousness pieces on piano, and they were eerie, spacious piano tracks,” he said. He used a piano that had been unconventionally tuned to the room rather than to standard pitch. These oddly-tuned, eerie instrumental recordings were never intended to be an album. Six months later, he listened to the recordings again and sent them to Richard who immediately recognized their potential and said, “Oh, this is the next album.” Richard went into the studio the next day and wrote and recorded melodies and lyrics to Zahn’s piano recordings. Zahn brought in gifted musicians like Bryan Senti on strings (violin, viola, and violoncello da spalla) and CJ Camerieri on brass (French horn, flugelhorn, and trumpet). In some cases, like on the track “Life in Numbers,” Zahn used only the original first-take piano recording and scratch vocal, resulting in an intimate close-up of both Richard and Zahn.

Permanent Parts is the second album released by visual artist Katharina Grosse (synthesizer) and musician Stefan Schneider (synthesizer; So Sner, To Rococo Rot). Grosse and Schneider were joined at Galerie Max Hetzler on 29 April 2023, performing as part of the Spectrum without Traces exhibition, by three artists who all generally work within improvised music – Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet), Tintin Patrone (trombone and electronics), and Billy Roisz (noise generator, piezo and mini cymbal). Permanent Parts is an extraordinary set of recordings that inhabits multiple zones at once: within its thirty-five minutes, we can hear the interactions of non-idiomatic collective music making, and the electronic glimmers of electro-acoustics, while, at the same time, the music remains untethered to genre.

This capacity to work within liminal zones makes perfect sense when thinking about both Grosse’s and Schneider’s prior work, whether the energetic diffusions and spatial explorations of Grosse’s artistic practice, or the slippery texturology of Schneider’s recent work with electronics. Khorkhordina, Patrone and Roisz all find their own ways into this dynamic, too, and Permanent Parts feels like an equal exchange of presence and contribution; there are no hierarchies here. This might explain the music’s curious sense of development, where several elements are allowed to exist alongside each other, not in direct contact but in a mode that’s somewhere between carefree layering and unconscious juxtaposition. The musicians are listening, but not just with their ears – their skin, their bodies are hearing, too.

When talking about Permanent Parts, Schneider is careful to place it within contexts that are specific, to some degree, but which allow for difference to blossom. “Although it was recorded live, it somehow was not meant to be a documentation of a live event in the first place. The five piece line up that appears on the record had met for the first time only a few hours before the concert took place.” While it might take a leap of faith for all parties to walk together, and so willingly, into a place of such freedom, of such risk, there is clear sympathy here between the musicians, and a shared appreciation of the immediacies of the situation.

It also throws some of our preconceptions about this music out of the window. “The record does not feel like a document of a performance as the music was not pre-composed and there was no reference,” Schneider continues. “Perhaps it was not even an improvisation?” For Grosse, her musical relationship with Schneider similarly shakes free from expectation: “My sound does not exist without Stefan’s. It is neither written down nor is it improvised. It is instantaneous.” When thinking about the five-piece exploration on Permanent Parts and asked to expand on what each musician brings to the table, she continues, “We all love the thrill of an unknown encounter and we seem to have a need for building connections through the thicket of our voices.”

There’s a curious phrase on the back cover of the album, before the artists are listed: “Wir sind eine Batterie / We are a battery.” This sums up the spirit of Permanent Parts. Schneider recalls that Grosse said this phrase to the musicians at the start of the performance. Grosse explains further, “The figure of the battery referred to our placement in the space building out a small circle facing one another from where the sound could spill into the impressive volume of the gallery.” The battery as an arrangement of similar devices; but I also think of charge, and the conversion of chemical energy, and of fortification. It’s a poetic metaphor that sums up much of the febrile pleasure of the music contained on these Permanent Parts.

– Jon Dale, Melbourne

Mermaid Chunky. It's all in a name, sometimes. The danceable, costumed, curiosity rich duo of artists Freya Tate and Moina Moin are as imaginative as they profess. Or, to get more to the point, as we all need them to be. Freya and Moina are two visual artists and musicians from Stroud and South London, places where they importantly found communities (Stroud's SVA and the capital's Total Refreshment Centre) of like minded people just as willing to chase down an idea to its possibly illogical conclusion. And it is in the collective and the idea of participation that Mermaid Chunky really clicks. This is a party, a collective dance, made all the better with more: people, ideas, layers, kick drums, recorders, saxophones, frogs. To wit, the album's first track and first single, "Céilí," named after a traditional Scottish or Irish social gathering and dance, which builds from a simple recorder line into a swelling, warm burst of major chord dance music. Goosebumps or check your pulse. Further down the rabbit hole, "Chaperone" is almost boardwalk electro, like Fischerspooner on a ferris wheel; "Frogsporn" and "Nature Girl" are mucky, trippy dirges filled with stalactites of synth and squelch; "Tiny Gymnast" is a kaleidoscopic waltz into the night. Hold onto your seats, ladies and gentlemen. You might be wondering how we, DFA Records, all the way over in cynical Brooklyn, entered the picture. There was a day a few years ago, sun shining in full Springtime splendor, when James heard something while waiting for a coffee down the street from the office. It sounded simple yet deceptively complex: a dance track, but one where the one - that anchoring first beat in a measure - could be heard a thousand different ways. Frustrated and interested, he Shazamd the song, playing at the shop from an episode of Zakia's Questing show on NTS, and brought it back to the office, where we all listened to it about fifty times. (The song was "Friends," from Mermaid Chunky's VEST EP, released in 2020. It led to an invitation to open for LCD at Brixton Academy in 2022. Mermaid Chunky has also played live alongside The Comet Is Coming, Alabastair Deplume, Snapped Ankles, and many others.) Thus began our search for Mermaid Chunky. A quest it has been and a quest it will always be.

Spectres have been stirring in the shadows for years now. Dark eyes watching from pallid faces. Siren songs calling to lost souls. In the blackest corners of the UK underground, a name whispered relentlessly amongst the faithful, first with curiosity, then soul-shuddering awe: Zetra.

Zetra is also the title of their striking debut LP. Ten tracks whose indefinable blend of shimmering shoegaze and pulsating goth-metal work deep beneath the skin, it is a masterclass in intimate dark romanticism and sweeping elemental beauty. It could be seen as a reaction to the geography of a strange new world, but also to the jagged topography of the human psyche itself. Is it a manifesto? A roadmap? A riddle waiting to be solved? Profound pleasure lies in peeling back its many layers.

Travelling alone, armed only with synths, guitar and drum-machine to compose, The Wanderers’ music could sound skeletal. Instead its early metallic bones have been fleshed-out with the electronic new-wave of Gary Numan and Pet Shop Boys and dreamy, droning guitars that hark to heroes like Slowdive and Sonic Youth as well as dark contemporaries Deafheaven and Alcest. As harsh as the truths with which they deal may be, these songs deliver beguiling brilliance.

Acolytes to spread the word of Zetra aren’t hard to find. British ‘contemporaries’ like Burner and Wallowing, Celestial Sanctuary and Employed To Serve have been dementedly singing their praises as far back as they can remember. Tours with the heavyweight likes of Creeper and Godflesh, VV and SKYND have taken their once-subterranean sounds into the spotlight. Unto Others’ Gabriel Franco (‘Moonfall’), Svalbard’s Serena Cherry (‘Starfall’) and Sólveig Matthildur Kristjánsdóttir from Iceland’s Kælan Mikla (‘Shatter The Mountain’) even crop up amongst these recordings, dissolving into the cult of Zetra themselves. But none are as important as the legions of fans Zetra are yet to reach with a dark gospel still unpicking all manner of psychological knots and existential truths.

On their seventh long player The Breaks - their second for Joyful Noise Recordings - SUUNS are lost in limbo. For some artists, being caught in flux may result in songs that are either naive, out of touch or both, simply as a consequence of being cut off from human civilization. But for SUUNS, a band who have grown more than comfortable in the oblique and the intermediate, it actually had the opposite effect. The Breaks marks the Montreal experimental rock outfit's most emotionally resonant and tonally rich collection of music to date. The trio of Ben Shemie, Joseph Yarmush and Liam O' Neill leans more zealously than ever into their pop instincts. Yet remarkably enough, with that same dauntless abandon, SUUNS have mined a more extreme sonic palette this time around, one that stretches far beyond their core fundamentals as a band. The Breaks finds Shemie, O'Neill and Yarmush gleefully experimenting with loops, synths, samples and MIDI-instruments like a post-millennial Tangerine Dream messing with downtempo triphop beats. O' Neill took point in the producer's chair for The Breaks, arranging, structuring and editing many of Shemie and Yarmush's ideas from sporadic rehearsal sessions into Pro Tools, reimagining the songs over and over during a two-year time frame. Forged between countless plane rides, road trips, van tours and text threads, The Breaks became a product of endurance and a lot of trial-and-error. It's a record forged in tight fissions of freedom, where spells of whispered intimacy - like on the stunning ballad "Doreen" - are allowed to branch out into the vast glacial dreamscapes of the album's majestic title track. It captures SUUNS at their most panoramic, curious and exuberant: a constant relay of being adrift and enlightened anew, geared up to eleven. And guess what: the wheels keep on spinning.

Isik Kural returns with Moon in Gemini, a luminous scrapbook of slow-flowing narratives couched in intuitive and symbolic storytelling. Bending a playful take on environmental music to the folk song form, Isik's vocals coo atop pastoral field notes, airy chamber instrumentation and archival recordings culled from a curious musical life. A tender pastiche coalesces across the suite of Moon in Gemini's fourteen pieces, and Isik invites the listener to daydream as-deep-as-possible. "The songs on Moon in Gemini don't mind being slower or taking their time to reach the listener," says Isik, who wanted the title to speak to the album's dreamy, liminal nature. "I enjoyed how the phrase could be used to describe an object, a time or a place simultaneously," he explains. Similarly and subsequently, these songs contain a multiplicity of sonic artifacts, moments and spaces that span Isik's rich musical career to date. With the bulk of the album realized between Amasya, Turkey and Isik's current home in Glasgow, in both domestic and studio recording environments, additional tracks unearthed from his personal recording archive lend their lush patina. The record emerged as a fertile space to reimagine a handful of previously unreleased songs and unfinished ideas spanning the past fifteen years of his life and work, including streetside sounds documented while growing up in Turkey and recordings made while studying music engineering in Miami, Helsinki and Glasgow. Looking to the more recent past, Isik found himself wanting to build upon some of the methodologies and textures explored on his 2022 album in february, seeking a newly intimate, vocal-forward sound. He points to the track "film festival" from that album as a door through which to enter Moon in Gemini, where sample-based arrangements are presented in the context of asymmetrical "build ups and progressions" and ambience and vocals intertwine. Inspired in part by listening to iconic, if not sometimes misunderstood, singers such as Nina Simone, Aldous Harding and Ed Droste of Grizzly Bear, Isik aimed to carve out a new space for his voice on Moon in Gemini, experimenting with novel recording and mixing techniques. Captured at his aunt's farmhouse in Amasya during an extended three week recording session, we find Isik's vocal high in the mix, front-and-center and on newly expressive terms. As a songwriter, Isik is an intuitive and playful lyricist who allows his deep love of literature to flow through his off-kilter texts. Here, echoes of Silvina Ocampo's poem "Dialogues of the Silence" reverberate from the margins of "Most Beautiful Imaginary Dialogues". Likewise, Elliott Smith and Virgina Astley shapeshift through "Behind the Flowerpots," some lines of which were based on misheard lyrics from Smith's "Stickman" and Astley's "Some Small Hope." Attuned to the magic of happy coincidences, other unexpected "themes and connections between tracks flourished" during the recording process, resulting in some songs being more "thematically and lyrically connected to each other compared to previous records." The duos "Prelude" and "Interlude" as well as "Grown One Iota" and "After a Rain" explore connected stories, while "Almost a Ghost" and "Behind the Flowerpots" serendipitously emerged out of a conversation with Stephanie "Spefy" Roxanne Ward, whose balmy vocals heard highlighting in february return and call out to Isik's in sweet dialogue. Plumbing these new potentials of structure and songwriting, Isik also developed a taste for an expanded sonic palette, one enriched by the lulling undertones of live woodwinds and strings. The resulting collaborations with flutist Tenzin Stephen, harpist Kirstin McCarlie and clarinet player Giulia Tamborino envelop the record in an altogether "dreamier sound," swaying pastel and awash in lunar light. Moon in Gemini, brimming with natural imagery and lullaby-inflected tones, tunes into states of being where the wonder filled sound of everyday is heard and felt, perfectly imperfect in its poetry; where the invisible steps forward; where dauntless ghosts wait around every corner and play enriches the soul; where bird song fills sun-soaked afternoons and carries us on its wings into each enchanted evening. Isik Kural's Moon in Gemini will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on September 6, 2024. On behalf of Isik and RVNG, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Mor Çaty Women's Shelter Foundation, whose social work at their solidarity centers and shelters supports women building lives unhindered by gender-based discrimination and male violence under free and equal conditions.

Lukas de Clerck brings us the ancient greek instrument, the aulos, of which his new interpretation of long form expression is coaxed forth on this tremendous recording. Lukas de Clerck explores a niche of archaeological research in music; the aulos is a historical Greek instrument that Lukas analyzed and reinterpreted by a luthier in modern times_navigating this impression as an artwork or living sculptural object, as there is an absence of historical partitions or written information about how to recreate technique on the instrument. Lukas de Clerck has interpreted information from the rare archaeological resources and visual art of the classical Greek period to recreate both playing technique and possible sound timbres with the instrument. With his contemporary approach to drone, post-minimalist music, and contemporary folk, we find a deeply satisfying and compelling, even playful set of songs, timbral exercises and compositions. An important document of new music meets contemporary archaemusicological research via Stephen O'Malley of SUNN O)))'s label Ideologic Organ. _ The telescopic aulos is speculative: might it have existed? It takes on features from the historical aulos, a double-reed instrument of which we know how it looked but little about what music was played on it or how it would have really sounded. It's an instrument without the limitations of canon or manual, providing creative freedom and awakening curiosity. The new instrument featured on this album is ancient and futuristic at once. The aulos has no tone holes; instead, each of the two tubes consists of three parts that can slide into each other. In this sense, the metal pipes bear a certain resemblance to the principle of a trombone. However, since both hands are already in use to hold both tubes, the sliding has to be done by way of gravity and the help of a «phorbeia», a leather mask which helps keep the reeds in place. The aulos's material is metal (instead of wood), which gives it a certain electronic allure and intensity, as well as a variety of sonic possibilities and textures. It produces overtones efficiently and allows them to play with their microtonality. The aulos Lukas plays on this recording was developed at Brasserie Atlas, a temporary occupation of a former brewery in the heart of Brussels where Lukas lives. It is quite a poetic coincidence that the birthplace of the instrument is named after the Greek titan condemned to carry the sky, while this instrument needs to be turned skywards to lower its pitch with the help of gravity. At Brasserie Atlas, Lukas has found collaborators who have shared in the process of building this new instrument: the collective Noir Métal has constructed the tubes, in this way becoming instrument builders; the phorbeia has been manufactured by Jot Fau; a former water reservoir in the vast cellar of the building carried the instruments' resonance for its first sounds. The place has left an imprint on this new instrument. With all of the telescopic aulos' layers, its sonic, musical and extra-musical components are still unfolding their potential as a medium for discovery and research, next to being an instrument of great musical potential. The music on The Telescopic Aulos of Atlas reflects this spirit. In several miniature pieces, it presents an encyclopaedia of musical possibilities that the instrument offers while keeping an intense and corporeal sonic specificity. The short pieces are studies that reflect on the sonic possibilities of this instrument that are yet to be explored. It meanders, searches and interacts with itself and the space. It needs to answer common expectations of old instruments being harmonious or pleasing. It transports a kind of experimental archaeology that, by formulating hypotheses in the present, allows us to reflect on what might have been in the past and simultaneously questions concepts of beauty, harmony or virtuosity. However, in the end, this instrument might have never existed before. -Julia Eckhardt

This is going to be the scariest spoken word record you’ve ever heard. We’re not joking…and neither is Vincent Price. The star of such horror classics as House of Wax, The Abominable Dr. Phibes, and Theatre of Blood (and, of course, narrator of Michael Jackson’s Thriller video) can barely hide his delight while he takes his audience through a graphic and occasionally grisly history lesson in witchcraft from the Bible through the Middle Ages, the Spanish Inquisition, and Nazi Germany. Then, accompanied by occasional eerie, abstract electronic music, Price’s sinister satisfaction only mounts as he provides instruction in the dark arts, with such tracks as “How to Make a Pact with the Devil” and “Curses, Spells, Charms.” It’s all in good fun, of course…or is it? The mysterious writer of the script, one Terry d’Oberoff, has only one other credit to his name: as the “mascot” of an early ‘70s band called…wait for it…Black Magic. This 1969 double-LP release has long been coveted by collectors of the curious and macabre, and for its first reissue in over 50 years, we are giving it the Real Gone treatment, reproducing the gatefold jacket and the full-size, 8-page booklet that accompanied some copies. It’s a combination history textbook and how-to manual in witchcraft, with a title page depicting a particularly unsettling spell called “The Hand of Glory” involving the severed, salted, and dried hand of a convicted felon. We are releasing this one-of-a-kind album on clear with orange “pumpkin” swirl vinyl…Happy Halloween.

Carving an unlikely and elaborate niche in the stoney academic landscape
which she once shared with the likes of Phill Niblock, John Cage and Sorel
Hayes, the excitable proto-punk poèmes sonores of the linguistic loose
cannon known as Beth Anderson first rolled through New York in the mid-
1970s (from Kentucky via San Francisco) like a jumbled tumbleweed of lost
Letterism, face paint and threadbare drummy funk to astonish gallery floors,
lecture theatres and loft apartment stages.
One thousand leagues under the radar of the commercial music industry,
with a sense of humour that elevated way above her highbrow peer group,
the music of Beth Anderson has successfully evaded the pressing plant for
most of her creative career, and not unlike fellow New York gallery actionist
Suzanne Ciani, it has taken decades to successfully collect and contextualise
these early recordings - expanding her elusive discography beyond the rare
and mysterious solo single entry in the process.
When uttered amongst the type of vinyl vampires that haplessly gravitate
between both art school vintage vanity pressings and family funded plunder
funk, there’s an outside chance that the name Beth Anderson might muster
some vague recognition on account of her one and only solo wax sojourn
into the expansive DIY market. In 1980 the 45rpm single, ‘I Can’t Stand It’,
combusted into the consciousness of adventurous participants with its deep
rhythmic backbeat (courtesy of future Sonic Youth / Dinosaur Jr producer
Wharton Tiers, member of the new wave band Theoretical Girls), climaxing
with two colourful and commanding linguistic tantrums before disappearing in
a puff of smoke leaving would-be fans dumbstruck without so much as a
label name or distribution contact to explain what they had just heard.
For those who have spent the subsequent years on the edge of that same
seat, it might come as some comfort knowing that somewhere out there,
there is also a contrasting world of gallery patrons and experimental sound
poetry enthusiasts that similarly didn’t know that their regular performance
poet Beth Anderson even made the ambitious pop record. For the uninitiated,
the enigmatic Beth Anderson has straddled both sides of the art / rock fence
placed between two equally niche pastures.
Hopefully this first ever vinyl compendium will succeed in joining the dots,
loops, yelps, squeaks, beats and repeats. Let us follow Beth’s lineage, along
her magnetic tape highways crossing multiple boundaries in a hope to bridge
unlikely anti-genres like ‘yoga punk’, ‘ramble rap’, ‘combustion pop’ and
‘formroom funk’… all of which were officially neatly bracketed under the
curious Text-Sound movement where Beth garnered utmost respect as a key
practitioner.