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“Música Para Caminar” is the new album by 80%Baul, and the record that confirms his definitive leap from revelation to legend. Following the critically acclaimed debut Ayer y Ahora, this release positions 80%Baul alongside the great names of Spanish post-punk, standing shoulder to shoulder with seminal acts such as Décima Víctima and Parálisis Permanente. Rooted in a dark, introspective sensibility, Música Para Caminar also connects seamlessly with the vitality of today’s Spanish underground, aligning with the current wave of forward-thinking artists, including labelmates like Yvgoslavia. But this album is not defined by sound alone. Once again, 80%Baul surprises with songs that function as poems—bleak, incisive reflections on a decaying, dystopian present. More than music, Música Para Caminar is a statement: music with intention, depth, and meaning—an artistic vision that transcends genre and cements 80%Baul as one of the essential voices of contemporary Spanish post-punk. Presented in ONE-OFF truly limited edition of 300 copies lacquered pressed on 180 gr. high quality solid BLACK vinyl tracks have been specially remastered and mastered for vinyl by Daniel Hallhuber at Young and Cold Studios (Germany).

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

"After being praised as one of the best releases of 2025 by multiple platforms, the highly praised debut album from Obeka lands on vinyl via YUKU.

The rhythmic dynamics and emotive attitudes of A World No More captures the density of soundsystem culture in Obeka's ancestral roots. YUKU presents the Bermudians debut album capturing a Neo-Colonial dystopia, protest and Afro-Futurism hyperextended through decaying sonic structures of a dark past and its grievances which very much exist today.

Growing into adulthood within the walls of British and European Colonial systems meant the disconnection and lostness in a new country hid me from the world at a young age. Unlike London's vast and culturally engaging migrant communities, the industrial milling town of Stockport introduced a coldness towards people from other countries I experienced in my first year after relocating from Bermuda. I couldn't understand why. Whether cold words thrown towards me or actions upon other people who look like me, it has shown to be a dooming societal virus with no cure. The most comfort was found through what was familiar - drums and rhythmic spirituality of my homeland. It was a safe-haven, a place to empty the anger and confusion. It's been 15 years since relocating and as my sound evolved, it seems classism, racism, oppression and civil control of ethnic peoples has become worse - even now more legalised and normalised. Ogun (a powerful Yoruba deity associated with anger, justice and war) acts as the opening sequence of the record and its symbolism. Using distorted bass frequencies and dissected Regga-Dub immersed in live-sampled ghostly voices of the lost ones. This sonic exercising is also applied in Drillaman - a stampede of industrial framework and metallic instruments wielded over moody Dancehall MC'ing, magnifying two parallel worlds in cocooned evolution. The resurrection of Transatlantic African cultures and identity have never been silenced, rather carried elsewhere through trade routes of enslavement, which was pivotal when composing and completing the album upon returning home to the Caribbean for the first time ever. After reconnecting with my heritage my blurred vision of what's wrong in the world became so clear. Guidance in empty plains seek truth throughout the pain - A statement of finding oneself expressed on the poetic closing track A World No More.

On Fawohodie (A West African Adinkra symbol that represents independence, freedom, and emancipation stamped on the album cover) the motive and atmosphere begins to change. Afro-Caribbean idealism which refers to the philosophical concept that emphasizes the interconnectedness of individuals and the importance of community, often contrasting with Western individualism, begins to take shape in a new universe. We can co-exist. The track framework uses machine-led software forming frequencies we have no control over, then manipulated through decomposing soundscapes, scattered hand-drums and human-made weapons of control - exposing the hidden disparity that's been carried over generations whilst balancing hopeful and musical foundations towards equality and peace. On Pressure and Kuduro! the writing direction attempts to wake people up. Not settling for a composed approach like in past projects, quite the opposite. A call for native sonic awareness, dismantled vocals of protests, eroded percussion using chains, gears and motorised harmonies sculpted in challenging abstract behaviors far outside my comfort zone. A direct abrasiveness and weight I want people to feel, whilst finding hope and solace through enchanting choirs and hypnotic basslines in complete synchrony.

"Purity in sound manifests when you least expect it. The smallest memory or feeling grows from a seed into a sonic language that you, and only you can interpret and release back into the world." "

For thirty years, Alden Tyrell has been at the forefront of electronic music. This analogue alchemist has concocted heady grooves that transmute genres: acid, disco, electro, house, italo and techno; no style left unturned. Under his Tyrell Corporation moniker, he returns to the Bordello with a sound forged for dancefloors. Midnight Machines is a warm embrace that melts electro‑disco with star‑gazing synthlines. “Midnight Machines Pt. 1” balances robust melodies and incising snares with soulful undercurrents and joyous breaks. Past energies are re‑channelled. Arpeggiators rumble as beats throb. Beneath it all, there is a greater consideration of the interplay of elements.

This focus pulsates through speaker cones on the needle‑drop of “Love in Decay.” Elated key changes and bright shifts are tempered by bittersweet moments, early‑morning light piercing fresh mists of grey. Tempos rise on the flip with “Midnight Machines Pt. 2.” Sci‑fi‑scored disco lifts ever higher as scaling notes untether themselves from the floor and soar above vibrant rhythms. Coy and alluring, the bright “Romance Obscura” closes the record. Cowbells and bending wavelengths open into an expansive, intoxicating melody where keys search the horizon as arms fold around celestial bodies.

Isella doesn’t flinch from the horror stitched into the fabric of the feminine experience. Citing writers like Plath Margaret Atwood, and Mona Awad as germinal influences on her lyricism, Isella plunges into the underbelly of expectations of good-girlhood, of valiant womanhood. In her songs she splays out the stakes of it all, plumbing the viscera, unearthing the blood, guts, dirt, and decay lurking beneath. By the time she hit fifteen, Isella’s taste had expanded and grown darker and more mature. Artists like Nine Inch Nails and Tom Waits became a conduit for the kind of raw intensity she’d always been drawn to, and gave her permission to push herself to new depths of expression. This is evidenced on her latest EP; That freedom that Reznor et al. endowed to the songwriter are evidenced on her latest EP; Something is a shell . Isella’s vocals swing from coolly detached to emotional detonation, often in the span of the same song. She brings listeners into a world colored by feminist hyper-realism, challenging listeners to re-define ideas of femininity, and safety; to see that things are not okay.

KITCHEN. LABEL is proud to present AGATE, the latest album by Japanese artist MEITEI, marking a deepening of the world he first shaped through his Kofū trilogy released between 2020 - 2023.

Named after the mineral agate, a stone formed through slow accumulation, pressure, and time, the album reflects MEITEI’s patient approach to sound. AGATE brings together extended and newly rearranged works from across the Kofū cycle alongside new compositions and passages, refining material developed through years of performance and sustained practice.

The album presents seven tracks:

HAŌ (Previously unreleased track)
SHIN-OIRAN (Remodeled from Oiran I, Kofū 2020)
SHIN-SADAYAKKO (Remodeled from Sadayakko, Kofū 2020)
SHIN-WAROSOKU (Remodeled from Wa-rōsoku, Kofū III 2023)
KYŪGEKI (Remodeled from Shinobi and Akira Kurosawa, Kofū II 2021)
SHIN-OIRAN II (Remodeled from Oiran II, Kofū 2020)
SHIN-EDOGAWARANPO (Remodeled from Edogawa Ranpo, Kofū III 2023)
Across these works, MEITEI expands the musical vocabulary first introduced in Kofū, a sound he once described as “lost Japanese mood.” While Kofū drew from fragments of folklore, theatre, ghost stories, and forgotten urban memory, it was never an act of historical reconstruction. Rather, it reflected a sensibility of the past observed from the present. With AGATE, this worldview is clarified as Shinpu, a process of discovery in which historical awareness becomes a foundation for contemporary creation rather than a constraint.

During five years of Kofū tours across Japan, Europe, and Asia, MEITEI performed this material in a wide range of spaces, from underground live houses and listening rooms to culturally significant sites. These environments influenced pacing, dynamics, and structure, shaping how the material evolved over time. AGATE is therefore not only a studio album, but the result of material refined through repeated performance.

If the Kofū albums were windows into forgotten eras, AGATE explores what lies beneath, sediment and strata formed through time and pressure. MEITEI’s approach to sound mirrors the nature of agate itself. Grains become texture. Texture becomes narrative. Voices drift through decaying layers of sound, while ancient instruments are used in non-traditional ways, forming distinctive percussive rhythms and melodies that appear and vanish without fixed resolution.

The album’s visual materials were developed under MEITEI’s direction through physical art-making processes. The cover artwork originates from a letterpress print created by Kamisoe, a Karakami atelier in Nishijin, Kyoto, using Kyo-karakami paper. The original artwork, produced through traditional woodblock techniques on handmade washi, was subsequently reproduced on print for the album edition. Kamisoe continues to reinterpret this historical Kyoto craft with a contemporary sensibility.

The title calligraphy was created by Bio Xie, whom MEITEI personally invited to participate in the project. During his performances abroad, MEITEI encountered in Taiwan a lingering atmosphere reminiscent of “Shitsunihon” — a sense of old Japanese memory that quietly endures beyond time. He was deeply drawn to Bio Xie’s distinctive use of Chinese characters, which resonated with this experience, and asked him to contribute to the visual expression of AGATE.

In parallel, MEITEI continues to reinterpret Japanese sensibility through his concept of “Shitsunihon,” presenting it as a contemporary musical language. The refined Kyoto motifs envisioned by Kamisoe and the distinctive calligraphic expression by Bio Xie intersect with MEITEI’s singular artistic direction, weaving together a newly articulated worldview.

The accompanying visual imagery, including the liner photographs, was created by photographer Hiroshi Okamoto, who was also responsible for the visual direction of MEITEI’s previous work, “Sen'nyū.” It draws from MEITEI’s lived experiences of winter seas, solitary cliffs, and breaking waves. These scenes symbolize the inner conflicts of the ten years he spent living in Hiroshima, and his confrontation with solitude and the sounds he creates.

AGATE will be released on 17 April 2025 via KITCHEN. LABEL on 180g vinyl, CD, and digital formats. The album is mastered by Kelly Hibbert, known for his work with Flying Lotus, Madlib, and J Dilla.

With AGATE, MEITEI returns to the material of Kofū with greater focus and discipline, continuing an ongoing process of working forward with inherited material.

2026 Repress

Buttechno digs into Berlin's club psyche once more on the second chapter of X-Berg Dubs, which twists his sound into something murkier and more inward. Squashed breaks and flighty dub techno blur with jungle-adjacent sidewinds, all wrapped in rough, lo-fi textures. These tracks don't rush the 'floor, they slowly subvert and seep into it. Overdriven delays, ghosted guitars, and smudged rhythms unfold on 'Dark Loop' with 'L Dub' setting a glitchy, Burial-esque vibe, while '2080 Dub' drifts deeper into echo and decay, but with retro garage chords and 'Stone Dub' is a pure stoner dub.

A catalyst for all sorts of noise-making endeavors, Bob Bellerue embraces chaos as a positive force. As a musician, he harnesses the violent timbres and textures from feedback clashing against piano wires, amplifiers, metal, zithers, electronics etc. He's also been central in harnessing community through his long standing Ende Tymes festival in New York, providing an intersectional platform for all voices to utter their noise. To a polite society, things such as chaos, noise, and anarchy threaten the normative structures that can assert control and maintain power over others. Bellerue qualifies his practice as a form of sonic animism, in which engages with that which is unheard in materials, equipment, and their relationships, developing a process of amplified discovery. The unhinged, the unquantifiable, and the unknowable are all possible outcomes in Bellerue's expansive works.

Chaos Is A Law is a macrotonal album, whose expressive de-centralization originates from rasping noise, intense textural accretions, brutalist drone, and inharmonic ambience. For all of the sustained harmonics and dissonant frequencies, the album is in constant motion, with Bellerue pushing dynamics that build, rupture, collapse and reform with an almost organic morphology. At times, it boils with a feral intensity. At others, its muscularity collapses into peculiar almost half-melodic figures, mutated within all the distortion. One could look to the free noise practitioners from New Zealand (e.g. A Handful Of Dust, Birchville Cat Motel, Surface of the Earth) or to the alchemical dronescaping of Stephen O'Malley and Organum. Yet, Bellerue's work maintains a bespoke tactility that is uniquely his.

In Bellerue's words, "The universe is a feedback loop. Creating and destroying. Growing and decaying. Loving and dying. Expanding and contracting. The big bang is the end result of everything merging together in the biggest black hole ever and then erupting into being over and over again. Praise chaos!"

Incl. Remixes by Red Axes, Roman Flügel & Abe Duque

What does it mean to exist in sound?

It does not begin with a beat, but with a choice. With the moment when someone decides not merely to inhabit the space, but to shape it – and in doing so, makes themselves visible.

Roman Flügel stands as a constant in the background. Not as an authority, but as a collective consciousness. Since the 1990s, he has moved through club music like a seeker, never content with the first answer. House, techno, experimentation – these are not genres, but states of being. His remix thinks, hesitates, opens, strikes like a surging acid wave, warping reality and demanding true presence.

New York taught him that club music is never neutral. It is body, friction, attitude. Abe Duque’s remix carries a strangely enchanting relentlessness, a resistance to smoothness – as if the dancefloor were a place where freedom is not claimed, but fought for.

Red Axes do not enter this space; they conjure it. Their sound is raw, repetitive, circular, as if deliberately refusing linearity. House, dub, and acid elements become material for a movement that is more trance than structure. Their remix does not ask where it is going; it asks why one should ever stand still.

And then there is Tim Paris. Not at the center, but as a narrator. As someone who knows that the voice is an attitude. “That Boy” is not a pose, but a mirror, ironic, direct, vulnerable. Paris moves between new wave house and club, always aware that identity is never fixed, but formed in the moment.

This remix record is not a gathering of names. It is a situation, four perspectives on the same question:

What does it mean to exist in sound?

Yet sound alone does not tell the full story: like music, the visual is a space to be shaped, felt, and deciphered. The cover of Tim Paris feat. Foremost Poets – That Boy, created by Konstantin Fürchtegott Kipfmüller, a visual artist at the Hochschule für Gestaltung in Offenbach under Heiner Blum, embodies this principle. Drawing inspiration from the urban environment, Kipfmüller transforms traces of decay, weather, and time into abstract narratives that, like the music of Tim Paris, Roman Flügel, Abe Duque and Red Axes, unfold meaning layer by layer. The result is no mere adornment, but a mirror of the sonic landscape: every line, every surface an echo of the question of what it means to exist – fully, in the moment, in sound.

A Sudden Burst of Noise is a study in equivalence between rotational frequency, material structure and sonic form. The album is based on sonified pulsar data and field recordings captured at a concrete radiotelescope located in the Eifel region of West Germany.

Following the core concept of BRUTALISM, architecture and infrastructure are not treated as backdrop but as structural agents. The radiotelescope – its reinforced concrete body, rotational mechanics and scientific function – serves as compositional framework. Rotational movement becomes rhythm. Structural tension becomes texture.
Measured cosmic data becomes sound.

The source material consists of astronomical measurement data translated into sound, combined with field recordings from the site itself: interacting with exposed concrete, mechanical resonance and electromagnetic presence. Dornen and Lomi process these elements into compositions that oscillate between abstraction and physical density.

The result is not a documentary representation of the site but a sonic architecture derived from it. Each track reflects a structural component: axis, mirror, descent, radiation. The record unfolds as a sequence of material states – from reduction and
erosion to rotation and amplification.

With A Sudden Burst of Noise, BRUTALISM continues its transformation of material, texture and structure into sonic forms. The vinyl format captures our site-specific research process as a physical object.

2026 Repress

French talent Hyden makes label debut on Mutual Rytm with conceptual new techno EP, 'To Whom It May Concern'. Hyden is a potent force in the French underground, creating powerful techno with dense percussion, immersive grooves and subtle nods to classic influences - all through his own unique lens. Having delivered standout releases in recent years, here he offers up sounds "anchored in psychoanalysis, time, and emotional residue" as he makes his mark on SHDW's Mutual Rytm imprint, delivering influences of dream logic and surrealism as the palette moves between brutality and introspection. "It's hypnotic music for moments of rupture where something breaks or breaks through". Opener 'Manifest Content' is inspired by Freudian theory and explores the surface illusions of thought and dream. It's about the dissonance between what we perceive and the deeper meaning that slips away beneath and is a deep and dubby techno track with flashes of unsettling melody. 'Bruises' is emotional trauma made sonic. This piece delves into invisible scars and traumas, residues of past conflict or intimacy - it's slow-burning, heavy and raw. 'Jikan' is a meditation built on time and its erosion. Inspired by the Japanese concept of impermanence, it reflects fleeting moments, decay and the tension between stillness and motion with jacked up but warm drums and turbulent bass. Next, 'Free Will' is born from inner conflict and plays with deterministic rhythms and evolving layers, questioning whether we are truly in control or just passengers in a prewritten sequence. The vocal mentions, "creatures, you're out of time" to bring darkness to the intense but sleek rhythms. The streamlined physicality of 'Swarm' channels the primal force of collective movement and is a nod to the loss of individuality in group behaviour. In addition, the package is loaded with digital bonus cuts. 'Yumehara' is a dive into surreal dream-states and evokes subconscious landscapes where logic dissolves and emotion reigns, while 'Lu Bu' is brutal and warlike and named after the legendary Chinese general that captures impulsive violence, betrayal and reckless glory with relentless energy and rhythm. Lastly, 'Neon Pale' is a synthetic dreamscape about fading beauty under artificial light - a melancholy ode to cities at night and the loss of warmth in modern life.

DJ Amir takes another deep dive into the back catalogue of Detroit's legendary Strata Records to curate a 2nd volume in his Strata Records – The Sound of Detroit compilations. Whereas volume one took in the soulful edge of the Strata canon this volume, as Amir says, 'leans into the label's groovier, funkier edges whilst still celebrating its bold, avant-garde spirit.' DJ Amir's relationship to the Strata label has resulted in the release of the long lost Charles Mingus live 'Jazz in Detroit' box set released on BBE Music along with re-issues from The Lyman Woodard Organisation and re-imaginings of Strata's genre defying music by Berlin based DJ and producer collective, Jazzanova as well as remixes from Kai Alce, Wajeed, Henrik Schwarz, re.decay and DJ Amir himself and, of course, volume one of The Sound of Detroit. Featuring music from The Soulmates, Fito Foster, Keith Boone & Janice Coombs and The Contemporary Jazz Quintet amongst others, The Sound of Detroit volume 2 absolutely exemplifies the importance of Strata Records in the history of innovative Black music as well as its place in the cultural landscape of Detroit as a powerhouse city for art and music. Released by BBE Music in collaboration with 180 Proof Records as a triple vinyl LP and high res. digital download DJ Amir presents Strata – The Sound of Detroit volume 2 really is a gem of a compilation to grace any serious music head's record collection.

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.

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce Dalbergia Retusa, an extensive double LP selection of the solo guitar music of Hans Reichel, compiled by Oren Ambarchi. Last heard on Black Truffle as one quarter of the joyously anarchic Bergisch-Brandenburgisches Quartett, Hans Reichel (1949-2011) is one of the great figures of experimental guitar music. Though perhaps lesser known than peers like Derek Bailey, Fred Frith and Keith Rowe, Reichel’s rethinking of the instrument was in some ways the most radical of all. Early on, he dispensed with existing guitars to build a series of his own that explored the use of additional strings and fretboards, moveable pickups, extra bridges, special capos, and other innovations documented in the extensive booklet accompanying this release.

Reichel was a long-term resident of Wuppertal, the small Western Germany city that became an unlikely centre of European free jazz in the late 1960s, also home to Peter Brötzmann and Peter Kowald. His solo debut Wichlinghauser Blues was an early entry into the FMP discography and began a relationship with the label that stretched into the 1990s; all the solo performances heard here were first released on FMP. As Reichel says in the charming archival interview with Markus Müller included here, he was ‘always a cuckoo’s egg at FMP’, a label that began as an outlet for roaring European free jazz. What strikes the listener right from the opening selection on Dalbergia Retusa—‘Return of the Knödler show’, from 1987’s The Dawn of Dachsman—is the extraordinary beauty of Reichel’s music, at once alien in the shimmering sonorities and unconventional pitch relationships made possible by his invented instruments, and deeply lyrical, even romantic in its harmonic content. Growing up in West Germany in the 1960s, Reichel’s formative influences were mainly British and American rock bands, a background that shines through in many of the pieces included here: ‘An old friend passes by’ is haunted by the ghost of Hendrix’s rhythm guitar, and the wild closer ‘Heimkehr der Holzböcke’, taken from a rare 1975 7” and the only piece to use overdubbing, layers errant hammer-on and slide tones over a Canned Heat boogie chug.

Reichel was an important source for the development of Oren Ambarchi’s own extended approach to the electric guitar. Appropriately enough, his selection opens with the very first piece by Reichel he ever heard, on a flexidisc included with a 1989 issue of Guitar Player magazine. Though Reichel collaborated with others extensively in many settings and also performed on violin and his other major contribution to instrument invention, the daxophone, his music for solo guitar remains at the core of his oeuvre. Focusing exclusively on solo pieces recorded between 1973 and 1988, the 23 pieces on Dalbergia Retusa showcase the range and consistency of Reichel’s work, allowing the listener to see how his performances developed hand-in-hand with his instrumental inventions. On a piece from his very first LP, played on an 11-string instrument (partly strung with piano strings and using a schnapps glass a slide), we hear his intensive exploration of fret-hammering to create zither-like, chiming tone, which Reichel would hone further in later years with a double fretboard guitar specifically designed to be hammered rather than fretted and picked. On a piece from 1979’s Death of the Rare Bird Ymir, Reichel uses two steel-string acoustic guitars at once, with beautiful results: ‘some even say too beautiful’, he jokes in the interview included here. Many of the pieces from the 1980s make use of varieties of the ‘pick behind the bridge guitar’, instruments of uncanny harmonic richness primarily designed to be played on the ‘wrong’ side of the bridge. At times the unexpected behaviour of attacks, resonance, and decay can almost seem electronic, conjuring up the technology-assisted work of Henry Kaiser or even Fennesz, but realised solely through Reichel’s unorthodox techniques on his invented instruments. Extensively illustrated with photos and Reichel’s own plans and drawings of his instruments, Dalbergia Retusa is an essential introduction to the unique world of Hans Reichel. Rarely has music been at once so strange and so beautiful.

2026 Repress

A further exercise in musical curation, Child Of Nature is our latest sonic confluence of self-released tracks from the loners, hippies and outsiders of the 70s and early 80s. A collection of privately pressed music, able to breathe and be created free from the constraints of heavy handed commercialism, yielding a pure vision of artistic expression. Child Of Nature features ten songs of brooding soft rock and psychedelic folk steeped in melancholia. Some ache for better times or past lovers, while others seek spiritual fulfilment or social progress.
A compilation to evoke the raw and unobstructed, to summon the occult, to fundamentally conjure a vivid portrait of our untamed natural environment. Recorded on the north coast of California, Luellen Reese’s ethereal “Silvery Waterfalls” drifts and swirls with electric guitar as her unearthly vocals transcend across a seven minute opus, fit for the golden age of labels like 4AD or Dedicated. “The flowers are dancing just for you …”, Reggie Russell croons over glistening Key Of Creek’s title track “Child Of Nature”, evoking a utopian world of natural harmony free from the present day realities of industrial decay.
Tap into your inner primal being, to embrace wholeheartedly, with frivolity and without reserve, your own child of nature.

Sonic Groove Experiments returns with the debut album from Mendikant DX. A Pack of Ghosts draws the listener into a deep ambient-industrial swirl of decay; a haunting soundtrack to the grim, back-lit, post-reality world we find ourselves in. Written and produced by techno veteran Bryan Zentz.

Cindytalk has remained a majestic proposition over the decades, one marked by a continued process of disintegration and regeneration. Change has been a constant for Cindytalk, as has been the presence of the Scottish musician Cinder, who has fronted the project since the early '80s. The first Cindytalk albums embraced a dark theatricality of post-punk dissonance and abject rock deconstruction that coupled industrial dirges with Cinder's beatific vocals, these same vocals that were once plied to the earliest This Mortal Coil and Cocteau Twins recordings,forever binding Cinder to the 4AD lore. But even on those albums, Camouflage Heart and In This World, Cinder was pushing the band to embrace the studio as a tool for further abstraction of sodden drones, cobwebbed dark elegance, and decayed textures.

By the early aughts, Cinder had reimagined Cindytalk through the granular processes of digitalia with a handful of equally celebrated works of glitch-born expressionism for Editions Mego. Cinder explains that "those elements were growing roots under our sound and had started to organically change the shape of what we were doing. The fucked-up rock music was in retreat and the electro-acoustic abstractions were becoming apparent. Fast forward to the early part of the 21st Century and my first laptop. It seemed natural where I needed to begin that part of my new sonic journey. To further explore those and new territories. Sunset and Forever is intrinsically connected to what came before."

Sunset and Forever is a labyrinthine opus, one that returns to the themes of the sacred and profane that have rippled through all of Cindytalk's recordings, albeit in various guises. The opening track "Embers of Last Leaves" is a haunted piece of undulated, cyclical tones that entwine into a sorrowful chorale with Cinder's own voice. Thumps of electronic drum kicks and bass drops dot the apocalyptic menace of "Tower of the Sun" but serve not as a rhythmic grid, but as painterly noises that further disrupt and disturb the machined dissonance. A cinematic radioluminescence blooms from the tempered electronics within "For Those Eyes, Shadows Of Flowers." The finale "I See Her in Everywhere" bookends the opening number with a seemingly human chorus build from electronic tones cast in cathedral reverence. Sounds throughout may appear adjacent to those of Fennesz, Holly Herndon, or even Lovesliescrushing from time to time, but Sunset and Forever remains purely Cindytalk.

Cover designed by Chris Bigg, known for his iconic design work for 4AD. Mastered by James Plotkin.

With this new chapter, Blackwater Label presents an EP exploring the frontier between ethereal, electronics and sonic horror. Two tracks move like ambiguous presences, evoking atmospheres suspended between dream and nightmare, body and shadow. "Hypnoptera" is a journey through dense textures, oblique frequencies and subtle pulsations that seep into the listener, keeping alive the tension typical of the label's most radical productions. A work that does not seek comfort, but disorientation: a sonic ritual digging into the dark matter of imagination.

The A-side opens with "Gomma", a sonic mass that deforms, viscous and elusive. Gomma moves through dry hits and elastic reverbs, a living organism mutating at each beat. The atmosphere oscillates between tribal and industrial, like a ritual dance seen through distorted lenses. A track that fascinates with its physicality and hypnotic nature, suspended between attraction and unease. "Dulcis in Fungus" descends into a humid and cavernous sonic landscape where sweetness and decay coexist. It layers ethereal drones and underground pulses, creating an environment that feels both organic and alien. The piece develops like the growth of a fungus-silent yet unstoppable, seductive and corrosive at the same time.

LIMITED QUANTITIES TO 100

A central figure in the contemporary scene, Setaoc Mass delivers five tracks of intimidatingly dystopian techno for Fuse's next release. Synth-heavy and melodically focused, the UK native brews moody tones over his signature percussion to provide a touch of improvisation for balance. In Static Rush, genres and influences collide under the persistence of concrete club music.

A haunting synth sequence opens FUSE10 with 'The Sky Above', showcasing Setaoc Mass's intentions for the rest of the release. Playing with decay and sifting through shakers, the seasoned producer fills the spectrum with constant tension throughout the entirety of the A1. In 'Shaded', whipping white noise over sixteenth synth notes, the pressure rises and falls with whistling accents on the transitions. Keeping the dancer on their toes with a lively arrangement, Setaoc Mass keeps his hands on all elements to maximise the record's progression. Moving to the B side, Feeling blends harmony and robust tone. Claps thunder through the track's warehouse acoustics, complemented by a sharp lead cutting through a heavy low end. The structure remains elusive and quick like the previous two, and it boasts a full, grinding sound destined for peak-time sets.

The end of Feeling then dips down into a two-track journey of ethereal sound designs and soft melodies. Keeping the rhythm swinging, Flutter By settles the atmosphere with an IDM-inspired iced synth and pads. This change of emotion pushes depth into the record, providing a welcome surprise in Static Rush. Setaoc Mass then signs off with the final contribution to the EP, Overload. Pushing further than ever into melody with hints of Detroit electro and a complete absence of a kick, the producer teases a slithering arrangement that ends his record with a bold conclusion.

'Nicolò's Static forays deep into liminal space, where signal decays, rhythm stutters and sub-pressure thrums.
'The four-track EP is the inaugural transmission from Nicolò’s own Exploring Records. Melancholy bleeds through the frequencies, yet the pulse remains restless, insectoid, off- kilter.
'Here we pace darkened corridors of flickering projections and half-remembered futures, setting the direction for what’s next...'

The Temptations Get High on Psychedelic Soul: Cloud Nine Soars with Ambitious Arrangements and Production, Features Standout Vocal Performances and Instrumentation by the Funk Brothers

The Temptations’ Cloud Nine announced that Motown — and “The Sound of Young America” — would never be the same. Influenced by the emergence of cutting-edge rock and pop currents, as well as increasing sociopolitical turmoil, the album broke down barriers between rock, psychedelia, and soul while heralding the arrival of visionary arrangements and production techniques. Bookended by traditional R&B numbers, the 1969 record sent the Temptations in bold new directions and signaled the advent of psychedelic soul.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45PM 2LP set presents Cloud Nine in audiophile sound for the first time on a domestic pressing. This collectible reissue bestows Norman Whitfield’s extraordinary production with the grand-scale dynamics, natural tonality, expansive openness, and low-end weight it deserves. The timbre of each of the five members’ voices is readily identifiable — even within the group harmonies — bestowing a realism never experienced outside the recording studio.

Making its debut on 45RPM, the album further benefits from the wide groove space by playing with greater separation and more realistic presence than prior editions. Everything from the brassiness of the horns to the dry snap of the snare comes across with reference-grade clarity and positioning. And since Motown’s renowned Funk Brothers backing band plays on many of the cuts, you’ll want to savor every note. The imaging, soundstaging, and organic bloom-and-decay of the notes make that possible.

Amid Cloud Nine, the instrumentation and architecture stand out as much as any element. Never before had a Motown album contained such ambitious patterns and complex passages. Seemingly conscientious of the departure from their past methods, the Temptations and Whitfield bunched together the tracks that mark a deep dive into psychedelic territory and counterbalance them with seven sterling soul cuts that dovetail with Motown tradition drenched with heartfelt vocals, swelling strings, and finger-snapping beats.

On the original 33RPM release, traditional Motown soul — laden with heartfelt vocals, swelling strings, and finger-snapping beats — occupies Side Two. These songs reveal an ensemble still very much on top of delivering pristine pop-soul material graced with romantic sweetness, persuasive insistent, and soaring highs. Re-energized after the departure of lead singer David Ruffin, who was fired for a variety of reasons in June 1968, the Temptations seamlessly meld with his replacement, Dennis Edwards, on one melodic gem after another.

The collective tackles five songs co-written by the legendary Motown team of Barrett Strong and Whitfield. Not the least of which are the smooth, shuffling “Why Did She Have to Leave Me (Why Did She Have to Go)” and deceptively simple, horn-spiked “Gonna Keep on Tryin’ till I Win Your Love.” On these tracks, as well as on a lush rendition of the ballad “Love Is a Hurtin’ Thing” and pleading, tender send-up of the Gerry Goffin-Carole King classic “Hey Girl,” Edwards and Paul Williams take turns on the lead with the estimable Eddie Kendricks, Melvin Franklin, and Otis Williams providing backing support.

All five vocalists trade-off leads on the simmering title track, a groundbreaking composition shot through with wah-wah-pedal effects, liquid funk, deep bass lines, Cuban percussion, saturated reverb, and gang choruses. Whitfield mines each member’s natural vocal range with spectacular results, keeps time with cymbals, and channels both the heated temperatures and escapist desires of a society embroiled in war, conflict, and experimental drugs.

Amazingly, the Temptations top themselves on the similarly revealing “Run Away Child, Running Wild.” Nearly 10 minutes in length, the song explodes R&B parameters and harbors a cinematic scope. Urgent pianos, distorted guitars, stripped-down percussion, steamy Hammond organs, minimal bass motifs, five distinct voices narrating the tale of a boy who fled home and now finds himself amid the scary, unforgiving external world: They combine to give the urgent tune a walls-closing-in atmosphere where fear and desperation reign. Bolstered by an extended instrumental section that precedes a climactic return of the singers’ voices, “Run Away Child, Running Wild” equaled the success of the record’s title track, with both reaching No. 6 on the pop charts.

Techno innovator Regent has already made his mark on Mutual Rytm with two previous outings highlighting his refined but powerful style. The Berlin-based artist joins the dots between bold percussive grooves and distinct cerebral layers, with his productions continuing to receive wide support from DJs and tastemakers across the globe. This return to SHDW's flourishing label features one of his most anticipated tracks to date - a truly timeless warehouse anthem that marks an exciting new chapter for both Regent and the label.

'Permean' is a raw but sophisticated piece of techno that merges powerful drums with hypnotic pads. It brims with surgical sound design. While the groove is fierce, a haunting melodic touch adds a soft and deeply emotional edge
as Regent explores the tension between permanence and decay, delivering a timeless and essential track.

The first remix comes from Steve Rachmad under his Sterac guise. This version channels the spirit of his early work - pure, stripped-back techno at its finest. Tightly programmed and deep, it features burrowing bass and impish synths dancing up top to occupy the mind while the body moves.

Next comes a remix from one of the most innovative producers of our time, Rene Pawlowitz, under his Head High alias, a project reserved for his more house leaning sounds. His 'Power Tool Mix' brings his signature loopy style with thudding kicks, raw hi-hats and twitchy synths - already shaping up to be a summer hit. Pawlowitz then steps out under his renowned techno alias Shed. His 'Forceful Pressure Mix' is a blistering and unrelenting weapon, with rusty textures and powerful bass locking you in its glitches, unresolved loops and booming low end.

2026 Repress

Techno innovator Regent has already made his mark on Mutual Rytm with two previous outings highlighting his refined but powerful style. The Berlin-based artist joins the dots between bold percussive grooves and distinct cerebral layers, with his productions continuing to receive wide support from DJs and tastemakers across the globe. This return to SHDW's flourishing label features one of his most anticipated tracks to date - a truly timeless warehouse anthem that marks an exciting new chapter for both Regent and the label.

'Permean' is a raw but sophisticated piece of techno that merges powerful drums with hypnotic pads. It brims with surgical sound design. While the groove is fierce, a haunting melodic touch adds a soft and deeply emotional edge
as Regent explores the tension between permanence and decay, delivering a timeless and essential track.

The first remix comes from Steve Rachmad under his Sterac guise. This version channels the spirit of his early work - pure, stripped-back techno at its finest. Tightly programmed and deep, it features burrowing bass and impish synths dancing up top to occupy the mind while the body moves.

Next comes a remix from one of the most innovative producers of our time, Rene Pawlowitz, under his Head High alias, a project reserved for his more house leaning sounds. His 'Power Tool Mix' brings his signature loopy style with thudding kicks, raw hi-hats and twitchy synths - already shaping up to be a summer hit. Pawlowitz then steps out under his renowned techno alias Shed. His 'Forceful Pressure Mix' is a blistering and unrelenting weapon, with rusty textures and powerful bass locking you in its glitches, unresolved loops and booming low end.

There was nothing in contemporary music like Chris Isaak’s Heart Shaped World when it hit shelves in June 1989. More than three decades later, the singer-songwriter’s third album still sounds unique — and claims a backstory nearly as fascinating as the retro-leaning material and standout performances that propelled it to sales of more than 2.5 million copies. Home to the Top 10 smash “Wicked Game,” the set remains a masterful mood piece that invites you to pour a late-night drink, sit in a dimmed room, and relish Isaak’s elegant albeit raw ruminations on love, relationships, and questionable decisions.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, and featuring the bonus track “Diddley Daddy,” Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of Heart Shaped World unearths the staggering inner details, saturated tones, and brilliant atmospherics of the crisp production. It brings you up close and personal with Isaak’s spectacular singing — impeccably controlled, tense, brooding, steamy, smoldering, haunted — situated amidst stripped-down backdrops that allow every note to fully bloom and decay.

While Isaak’s ever-steady baritone remains the anchor, the contributions of his trusty backing band, the aptly named Silvertone, come across with just as much cool, command, and realism. The indispensable playing of guitarist James Calvin Wilsey particularly emerges with superb clarity and dimensionality. The character of his 1965 Fender Stratocaster, shivering twang of his spring-coiled fills, and his signature use of reverb, delay, and vibrato seamlessly match Isaak's patient deliveries and the band’s unhurried rhythms. Experienced on UD1S with ultra-black backgrounds and a nearly invisible noise floor, Heart Shaped World is in every regard a demonstration disc.

The premium packaging of this UD1S pressing befits its elevated status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics. Aurally and visually, this reissue is for discerning listeners who desire to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, not the least of which is the cover art depicting a lost-in-thought Isaak staring ahead and sitting in what appears to be an efficiency apartment. The image epitomizes the record’s lonesome temperaments and pensive themes.

Of course, if not for director David Lynch hand-picking two cuts from Heart Shaped World for his 1990 film Wild at Heart, the record would’ve probably suffered the same fate as Isaak’s prior efforts and gone unnoticed by the mainstream. Despite receiving raves from outlets such as NME, Chicago Tribune, and Rolling Stone upon its original release, the album stalled in the lower quadrants of the Billboard charts and, after a few weeks, dropped off.

Cue the ear of Lee Chesnut. Then the music director for a large Atlanta radio station, Chesnut heard the instrumental version of “Wicked Game” on Lynch’s soundtrack and started airing the album rendition at all hours of the day. Aided by a sensual video featuring Isaak and supermodel Helena Christensen, the song found its way into the public consciousness by early ‘91 and helped make Isaak a most unlikely mainstream star in an era where his techniques had little to nothing in common with popular tastes.

Despite its vintage vibes and shared DNA with legends such as Roy Orbison, Chet Baker, and Glen Campbell, Heart Shaped World transcends nostalgia, rockabilly, and throwback tropes. For all the melodrama and sadness at hand, Isaak’s gorgeously transparent singing dives deep underneath emotional surfaces. He mines subtleties that indicate his feelings go beyond heartbreak and anguish, and occasionally suggest frustration, menace, and anger. You can hear it in his quivering falsetto, and the slow and methodical ways he allows delicate whispers to break into shadowy phrasing that crosses over to the darker sides of romance and desire.

That approach bolsters the title track, which suggests calm yet moves on ominous currents — its simmering pace and snare-drum snappiness foreshadowing Isaak raising the volume and urgency during the coda. The southwestern-tinged “Wrong to Love You” plays with similar concepts of hesitation, unease, and discord, Isaak careful never to fully erupt and give anything away. His poised deliveries offer a master class in the art of insinuation and hurt on “Nothing’s Changed,” sent up with a wordless backing chorus and crackling guitar lines straight out of a Memphis blues joint.

Heart Shaped World further boosts its merit via its abundant stylistic variations, from the upbeat country-and-western trot of “I’m Not Waiting” and Spanish acoustic shimmer of the jazz-based ballad “Blue Spanish Sky” to the swinging horn-accompanied grooves of “Don’t Make Me Love You” and desert smokiness of the understated “Kings of the Highway.” On the latter, Isaak comes across as resigned and absolute. His singing and pain worm their way into your soul, and echo akin to the way the music prepares to strike when you least expect.

“Trouble going 'round,” Isaak croons right as the album begins. “Trouble going down.” Damn straight.

'Transplant Rejection’ is the work of Estonian artist and IDA Radio co-founder Robert Nikolajev, this collection of seven ‘almost’ dark ambient tracks embody the melancholy of autumn whilst hinting at the forthcoming eternal winter. A man with many hats, Nikolajev operates on the fringes of the leftfield house underground for labels such as Incienso, Collect-Call and Sad Fun as well as being one half of the sporadic DIMA DISK act with Ragnar Rahouja. Eschewing the more rhythmic side of his productions for this Muscut tape, Nikolajev taps into the fictional soundtrack atmospheres the label is known for and brings his own brand of wistful, introspective world-building by way of machine harmony to the now Tallinn based imprint.

There’s a lo-fi, grainy quality running throughout the collection, a kind of sepia-toned nostalgia that envelops the listener and disorientates any perception of time or place. Buried vocal fragments sit in the mix on ‘Stifled’ alongside decaying synthesiser drones whilst ‘DDM’ channels an edgy post-rock dirge with its use of sagged bass guitar. Overall, an inspired look into the more ‘at home’ side of this increasingly prolific Estonian artist.

A Walking Contradiction resurfaces with a new release by their friend & collaborator Katatonic Silentio, channeling a collection of tracks submerged in echoes and pressure-shaped pulses. AWC011 traces fluid architectures built from delay, decay, and deep resonance--each composition unfolding like sediment in motion. Sounds sway with tidal pull, suspended in chambers where space thickens and time refracts. Basslines emerge like sonar beneath shifting layers, while percussive elements flicker at the edges, softened by current and drag. Elastic and disorientated, these underwater constructions are tuned to the language of depth and dissolution.

Avenue 66 opens Series 33 with a Düsseldorf–Lyon connection.
Jonquera first encountered Tolouse Low Trax a decade ago in a small Lyon club. That night, his hypnotic slow-motion set was cut short, yet it left a lasting imprint. The Düsseldorf artist’s mechanical psychedelia, and the influence of the Salon collective have been a constant touchstone for
Jonquera, even inspiring playful “Düsselcore” edits in his Tera Octe days.
After several LPs, Jonquera returns to the EP format with Cause & Utility / Tales of Decay. Built from improvised drum, bass, and vocal recordings, the tracks are reworked through heavy looping and acoustic treatment, a method inspired by his recent live shows. Cause & Utility revolves around the
abstract idea of two dogs as concepts, enriched by the earthy drone of a hurdy-gurdy. Tales of Decay paints a surreal image of a house losing its rooms like a body shedding parts.
The MPC sorcerer Tolouse Low Trax, aka Detlef Weinrich, brings his Düsseldorf circuitry and autobahn funk with two tracks of pure rhythm apparition. Amp is a quintessential Tolouse Low Trax cut, built on concealed rhythmic structures, swampy bass lines, and fragments of radio and voice
samples. The piece extends his exploration of how art can mirror the flow of inner-city traffic; drifting without a clear climax. Solid Rock echoes this idea, first conceived as a variation on Amp where particles repeat themselves. The result is distinct yet conceptually linked, evoking the
density of a crowded neighboring city: beginning in apparent disarray before locking into an abstract, hypnotic funk.
Series 33 begins with the convergence of Jonquera’s looping experiments and Tolouse Low Trax’s mechanical psychedelia, a dialogue between Lyon and Düsseldorf.

Gwenan Spearing, known for her perceptive, groove-oriented DJ sets, and more recently as a live performer working with hardware improvisation, launches a new imprint, Phase Space, with Degrees of Freedom, a debut album diving deep into generative electronics, modular systems, and real-time response. Composed and recorded in 2019-2020, the album treats constraint as creative fuel, floating between ambient,
sonic sculpture, and improvisation, mapping Gwenan’s path from rural Wales to Berlin’s outer zones of experimental sound.
Sync opens with a theme on a slow triangle wave, expanding the space as it evolves. Some Pluck explores generative counterpoint using LFOs and Euclidean rhythms. Generator I unfolds in an oscillating time where keyboard and bass circuits cross-modulate. Sleep Pressure is a lullaby for grown-ups, capturing that eerie threshold before sleep, followed by Loper, where time flows fluid and unstable. The closer, Generator II, holds machine heartbeats in delicate equilibrium before unraveling into graceful decay, a soft farewell. (That’s the Universe waving.) Degrees of Freedom is algorithmic music with a pulse: visceral, hand-wired, and built for deep listening.

Texas drone pioneers Stars of the Lid take stock of a landmark career with this 30th anniversary edition of their debut LP Music For Nitrous Oxide on their own Artificial Pinearch Manufacturing imprint. Long before the brittle-yet-warm racket Adam Wiltzie and Brian McBride kick up became synonymous with the achingly beautiful decay of America they were two audio geeks in Austin with almost no connection to the city’s vibrant, but rock and roll focused music scene. Finding brotherhood in mangled tape collages and engulfing fuzz, Stars of the Lid was born out of their mutual abstraction from what surrounded them. While to its creators, Music For Nitrous Oxide may have simply been a (slight) refinement from the drones Wiltzie and McBride were unleashing on unsuspecting college radio listeners at UT Austin, the rest of the world was slowly catching up to the duo’s noise-addled magic.

Lucy Duncombe and Feronia Wennborg compose a modern symphony for virtual choir on 'Joy, Oh I Missed You', muddling sound poetry with Nuno Canavarro and ‘Systemische'-style machine-damaged surrealism. Like a mashup of Lee Gamble's 'Models', Akira Rabelais' 'Spellewauerynsherde' and Robert Ashley's timeless 'Automatic Writing’ screwed to perfection.

Duncombe and Wennborg have been chewing over ‘Joy, Oh I Missed You’ for four long years, working their process until they were "queasily intimate" with their arsenal of artificial voice tools. Tracing the history of the technology, from voice synthesisers and chatbots to AI voice analysis tools, the duo experiment relentlessly to develop a digital-age response to IRL extended vocal technique - think François Dufrêne, Yoko Ono or Phew. Less interested in replicating human sounds exactly, they instead test how various tools might cough up their own idiosyncratic tics as they stretch and stutter through attempts to mimic their "fleshware" counterparts.

Duncombe's got prior form here, most recently re-synthesising her voice on the brilliantly oily 'Sunset, She Exclaims' 45 for Modern Love, following a stunner for 12th Isle in 2021. Wennborg brings along experience from her tenure as one half of microsound duo soft tissue, whose 2022 LP 'hi leaves' (Students of Decay) was a haptic treasure. These approaches mesh remarkably well on their first collaborative full-length, with Duncombe's eerie bio-electronic incantations providing the ideal foil for Wennborg's carbonated hardware processes. It's not completely clear where the human voice ends and the zeroes and ones begin on 'Your Lips, Covering Your Teeth', as rolling cyborg syllables tumble over OS-startup womps and surprisingly svelte outcroppings of glassy, synthetic glitches. The music is surprisingly mannered, a sonic reflection of the cover, where a mouth is pixellated until only colour swatches remain. Duncombe and Wennborg trace the gradual erosion of their voices, leaning into the chaos as their various tools veer off into unique patterns of failure.

What sounds like a far-off, ghosted folk rendition (we're reminded of the Icelandic laments that Rabelais chewed up on 'Spellewauerynsherde') is offset by gnarled, bitcrushed machine faults and pneumatic lip smacks on the brilliant 'Residue', and on 'Brushed My Hair', the duo massage the voice until it sounds like a flute. Assembling stutters and barks and sighs into a celestial chorus alongside time-stretched moans, they create a levitational atmosphere on 'Smell It', freezing the energy from bizarre pitch steps to configure a zonked vocal ensemble.

'Joy, Oh I Missed You’ is an album that, like its source material, constantly morphs, testing the boundaries of its concept repeatedly without bubbling over into conceptual goo. In fact, it's remarkably euphonious, even at its most theoretically abrasive; Duncombe and Wennborg wring out uniquely angelic formations through a process of trial and error that packs a surprising, hefty emotional punch.

Iter, Calgolla's latest concept album, is an intense and layered sonic journey into the contradictions of the contemporary human condition.
With a musical language that combines alt-rock, post-rock, post-punk, spoken word and forays into performance art, the group constructs a complex work that defies any simple definition.
The record deals with themes such as migration, inner transformation, social alienation, ecological collapse and a sense of loss, layering lyrics and sounds into a coherent but fragmented narrative, like the time it tells.
The lyrics are taken and adapted from Viaticus, a graphic poem written by the singer together with visual artist Giacomo Della Maria, reshaped to adhere to tense, dense and visionary soundscapes.
The nine tracks of Iter thus form a journey that crosses different languages, styles and moods, like stages of an initiatory path that reflects the precariousness of modern life.
An album that refuses to offer answers, but invites immersion, surrender and transformation through listening. It is a meditative, multi-layered exploration of transformation, perception and resilience in the fragmented reality of modern life. With nine tracks and several languages, Iter (‘journey’ in Latin) traverses internal and geopolitical, sacred and profane landscapes, layering spoken words and sound collages into a deeply expressive experience. The guitars weave textures that are now ethereal and now abrasive, while the rhythm section builds a pulsating framework that supports and amplifies the evocative atmosphere of each piece. Iter does not merely recount the decay of our time, but attempts to bring it to life, immersing the listener in an emotional flow that blurs the boundaries between dream and nightmare, between meditation and chaos. An album that refuses to offer answers, but invites immersion, abandon and transformation through listening.

The writer Max Sebald often pondered over the nature of human memory, specifically, how our thoughts and desires - and their results - overlap and mutate over time. In A Place in the Country, he writes of the significance of what see as “similarities, overlaps and coincidences”. Are they the “delusions” of the self and senses, or manifestations of “an order underlying the chaos of human relationships, ... which lies beyond our comprehension”?

Song of the Night Mists, the new album by post-classical composer Stefan Wesołowski, often feels it draws on Sebald’s premise.

On a simpler plane, the one where the market dictates the neatly ordered information we consume, Song of the Night Mists can be described thus: recorded in the main by Stefan Wesołowski in Gdańsk, both in his studio and in Saint Nicholas' Basilica, the album incorporates acoustic instruments - piano, violin, double bass - and classic synthesizers such as the Roland Jupiter-8, the Soviet Polivoks. A Roland Space Echo RE-150 tape delay was also pressed into service as an instrument. We also hear the basillica’s organ and field recordings from the Tatra Mountains. Other musicians were Maja Miro, who played the flute parts on ‘Glacial Troughs’ and brother Piotr Wesołowski, who played the organ on ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’. Sound engineer was Marcin Nenko, who was also on hand to record the basilica organ parts. The album was mixed in New York by Al Carlson (Oneohtrix Point Never, Jessica Pratt, Zola Jesus, Lady Gaga, and Liturgy) and Rafael Anton Irisarri handled the mastering.

Ostensibly, Song of the Night Mists is the last in a trilogy, following on from albums Liebestod (2013) and Rite of the End (2017). All three deal with existential matters such as love, death, decay and “an ultimate end”; apocalyptic and Promethean in spirit, and betraying very human conceits. The Sebaldian nature of the new record starts to make itself felt when Wesołowski talks of how he used sampling. One element is unexpected, that of sampling himself: “I go back to dozens of my own unused sketches and recordings, treating them as raw material to cut, slow down, reverse, and transform in every possible way.” Memory as sound, to be reemployed by the listener through their own imaginings.

Another set of samples made by Wesołowski plays another role. These are field recordings, originally created for an audio illustration of the formation of the Tatra Mountains, and used in a film by sound designer Michał Fojcik. Wesołowski: “You can hear cracking ice, streams, footsteps in the snow and the wind, and a real avalanche, recorded from the inside.” The “Tatra connection” on the album is also found in samples referencing composer Karol Szymanowski. The album’s title alludes to a poem about the mountains by Polish poet, Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer.

Wesołowski’s Tatra recordings are “about a world without humans - about the fact that the world existed, was beautiful, and had meaning long before people arrived, and for the vast majority of its history, it was a place without us.” Wesołowski, using one iteration of the natural world, plays out in sound Sebald’s idea of another order, underlying the chaos of human relationships lying beyond human comprehension.

These feelings play themselves out on the five album tracks. Sonorous and rich, they illustrate tectonic shifts we have no control over. Wesołowski hints that the overall sound is a “meditation on the metaphysics of the non-human set against the spirituality that human presence has brought into it.” In that light, the opening number, ‘Core’, with its slow build, and crackling and straining sound effects, create an effect of the earth groaning into life in a creation myth. Once the piano part raps out a simple melody and modulated tonguing trumpet samples add to the overall atmosphere, the listener can certainly find a cue in the “spiritual”, or “human” side of the story. Human versus nature: from the strains and harmonic muscle stretches of the second number, ‘Glacial Troughs’, through to the powerful and filmic ‘Stalagmite’ and heart-on-sleeve romance expressed in closer, ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’, we listeners are cast as Friedrich’s wanderer, looking out over a landscape that will appear only if we engage with it.

Formations of melody appear incrementally, almost appearing by chance - like hidden footings in the rock shelves to give us something to grasp onto. Rhythms are used sparsely: the prolonged percussive taps on ‘Glacial Troughs’ are an anomaly and maybe there to give pace to the album to come; essentially to keep the listener strapped in. Elsewhere, percussion is used as an aid to mood, the two thudding, timpani-style passages on ‘Peak’ there to offset the short, beautiful, kosmische passage that splits them.

Elements of the borderline religious spirit that drove German electronic music in the late 1960s and 1970s also find a place on Song of the Night Mists. The swells and recessions of the organ find their emotional climax on ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’, a track which summons up echoes of the “mountain magic” vistas created by Popol Vuh or Tangerine Dream, especially with the slightly atonal wobble of the Mellotron that counters it.

This is a dramatic album, but it does feel a strangely short, or curtailed listen on ending, evoking the feeling one gets when waking from a dream, and, for all its incipient grandeur, a track like ‘Stalagmite’, for instance, ends on a minor note. Wesołowski admits that Song of the Night Mists is born of the all too human process of temptation, doubt and recalibration - Sebaldian overlaps and coincidences forming something that must live another life, away from its creator. In Wesołowski’s words, the album is “a newborn foal must stand up and walk right after birth.” Now it is yours to ponder.

Plying refracted rhythms with an exacting poise, Aerae arrives on Samurai Music with a fully formed sound that plumbs the depths between techno immersion and D&B beat science.

An accomplished, palpable tension runs throughout Nefanda, Aerae's second solo release. Following up on the meditative pulse of her debut album on Annulled Music last year, the Paris-based artist digs deeper into ominous atmospheres filled with evocative reverb decays and taut, dynamic drum work - tools she wields to Redner tracks with specific meaning, coded by the Latin framing that runs through all aspects of her musical output. Contemplating the ancient language as an inescapable part of her European roots, on Nefanda Aerae ruminates on external trials and inner impulses, and conjures a jaw-clenching soundtrack to match.

'Mons' (translation: 'Mountain') speaks to challenges, strength and spiritual ascent, marked out by an urgent thrum of conga slaps and a 4/4 kick around the 170 BPM mark that finds power in minimalism even at the relatively high tempo.
The title track opts for a more broken framework, pivoting pointed percussion around a deft sub pulse while turning up the intensity with an exacting poise.

'Nefanda' translates as 'unspeakable,' or 'too horrific to name,' and the fraught, synthetic wraiths contorting through the track convey the dread the title implies.
'Fovea' (translation: 'pit') burrows deeper into spatial design with a looming low end rumble and subliminal sound sculpture, shaping out a dark, introspective chasm tipped towards disassociation. It's a powerful statement in any setting, but the all-consuming bass feels especially crafted for full, physical sound system immersion.

'Phrenesis' (translation: 'frenzy') rounds the EP out in fierce form, building up a high-pressure arrangement from ambient beginnings with ruthless control. There's a sense of duality in motion between half-time and double-time rhythmic elements, every incremental shift adding to the intensity of the track with the elegant, impactful touch that has fast become Aerae's calling card.

Finding her own language within the dialogue between techno, D&B and dark ambient, Aerae's music makes a vivid impression thanks to the ideas and intention that drive her in the studio. Nefanda confirms her status as a leading light in deep, psychedelic dance music, making something extremely personal that also reaches out beyond notions of the self like all the best transcendental music.

AN ATLAS OF LOSS

Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?

If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.

There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.

In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.

Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.

Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.

Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.

Alfons Pich, 2025

Unspecified Enemies, the project led by Louis Digital (Numbers, Counterattack, Arcola) present their debut album Romance in the Age of Adaptive Feedback.

Written and produced by Louis Digital, the album incorporates fragments of music data generated by long-time collaborator CiM (Ann Aimee, Delsin). Describing the title track, Louis Digital states:

“It’s the microelectronic sound of a city playing strange light games with itself, evoking bitcrushed desires and floating images, an urban phantasy stored on the broken circuits of an Ensoniq ASR-10.”

The origins of Romance in the Age of Adaptive Feedback trace back to 2006, when Louis Digital launched Diamond Sea, a series of events at London’s ICA that introduced the Unspecified Enemies project and a label called City of Quartz. The vision was to merge the hi-tech electronic textures of contemporary R&B with the sampling and sequencing techniques of pioneers like Anthony Shakir and Soundhack. However, the music was lost in time, and City of Quartz never released a single record.

Yet, the story took an unexpected turn. At one of these events, Spencer from Numbers received a CD containing early recordings. Years later, Numbers encouraged Louis Digital to reconstruct the lost music for an album. The result is a work resurrected from the past and reimagined for the future—retrieved in fragments from a broken Iomega Jazz SCSI Drive.

Expanding on the album’s themes, Louis Digital reflects:

“By the late ’90s the cinematic image of Los Angeles and the sound of Detroit techno had crystallised a new style of living in time and space. In 1997 Mike Davis — the political activist, urbanist, writer and historian of Los Angeles — suggested that it all had “something to do with a microelectronic aesthetic of very transient and decaying states”. It was a romantic vision — one where the city’s glass surfaces reflected a musical desire for futurity not yet dominated by data-driven corporate life. These were strange days to live through. This album evokes the embers of this fibre-optic moment, when urban revolution in an age of digital reification still felt possible.”

The album features full sleeve artwork and a poster designed by Ben Drury. In support of the release, an NTS show titled Romance and Reification will explore the cinematic and electronic music influences behind the album.

The fifth album from H. Hawkline (Huw Evans), ‘Milk For
Flowers’, is released via Heavenly Recordings.
Following the 2017 album, ‘I Romanticize’, and 2015’s ‘In
The Pink of Condition’, the album was produced and
features musical contributions from long-time collaborator
and celebrated solo artist Cate Le Bon. Artwork is
designed by H. Hawkline.
Recorded at Rockfield Studios in Monmouthshire, the
album features a host of musical collaborators - Davey
Newington (Boy Azooga) on drums, Paul Jones (Group
Listening) on piano, Tim Presley (White Fence, DRINKS,
The Fall) on guitar, Stephen Black (Sweet Baboo) and
Euan Hinshelwood (Younghusband, Cate Le Bon) on sax,
Harry Bohay (Aldous Harding) on pedal steel and John
Parish (PJ Harvey, Aldous Harding) on infrequent bongo.
The record was then engineered by Joe Jones (Aldous
Harding, Parquet Courts) and mixed, after an unlikely and
fortuitous crossing of paths, by the Grammy-nominated
Patrik Berger (Charli XCX, Robyn, Lana Del Rey), and
mastered by Heba Kadry (Deerhunter, Cass McCombs,
Cate Le Bon).
‘Milk For Flowers’ is at once visceral and enlightened, its
soundscapes verdant yet delicately rendered, and with this
latest, most intimate work, H. Hawkline bares his blood,
bones and soul beautifully. And quietly, along with the
entrails and rubble held in ‘Milk For Flowers’’ reliquary,
there hides a small, green kernel of life; hope, perhaps,
that today’s decay might nourish tomorrow’s blooms.
Available on CD and LP with rigid ‘tip-on’ sleeve with antiscratch matt lamination and digital download code.

Crush of Souls is the musical endeavour of Charles Rowell (Crocodiles, Flowers of Evil, Issue). One foot in early Industrial and the other in 80’s Synth-Pop, Crush Of Souls hold the whip and demand that you submit your soul.

Returning once again to Catacomb Soul studios where he had recently finished recording “(A)Void Love”, Charles Rowell mapped out the next chapter for Crush of Souls, limitations were set in place while new faces appeared to lend a fresh coat of black magic to the album.

The album is a love letter to Paris; all of its beauty and decay. “Lézire” which is a slang mixture of the French words for Lizard and Desire provides a sinister title to an album full of hard hitting, romantic songs.

Harry Howard (These Immortal Souls) provides his signature snarl and profound lyrics to the haunting ballad “You Rose Up”. Long time sax player Stanislas de Miscault colors the dark corners of the record with his unhinged personality and one half of new look COS, Stevan Dinet bangs both the martial beats and the Fairlight sample pads.
An album cover full of chains and S&M can provide enough of an explanation as to the new direction of Crush of Souls. Cronenberg’s “Crash”, David Lynch’s “Lost Highway”, Psychic TV and Sisters Of Mercy are constantly mentioned.

‘Subtle Bodies’ is the new album by US-based sound artist and composer Francis Morning, released on Ltd. cassette via Lo Recordings, which contemplates the concept of the non-physical, energetic layers of a person that exist alongside the physical body. Being the next installment of Lo Recordings' ongoing SPACIOUSNESS series, the album features 15 tracks that embrace the theme through hints of electric piano melodies buried under layers of tape hiss, meandering sine wave bass notes, and expansive ambient textures.

The compositions on ‘Subtle Bodies’ are meditations on impermanence, imperfection, and the natural process of decay, approached without judgment. They arise from moments of introspection, often inspired by the contemplation of inner channels, energies, mindfulness, breath, and other Tibetan Buddhist practices. Deliberately recorded using minimal equipment, each piece explores and pushes against the thresholds in an attempt to strike a balance of texture and noise. About Francis Morning:

Francis Morning is a US-based sound artist, musician, and composer known for crafting gently textured sonic environments using a simplified palette of musical hardware, including analog tapes and cassettes, field recordings, synths, pedals, pianos, and acoustic and electric guitars. His work embraces imperfection, human quality and touch, and the transient nature of life. The music began to take shape as simple, personal daybreak rituals with no audience or expectations. Each piece was recorded live in single takes, with the original elements eventually discarded or recorded over, as a statement and exercise in impermanence and letting go.