Buscar:each other

V Don and Da$h are not strangers to each other. Connecting in the past for memorable tracks like “Glad Bag”, “Redrum”, and “Now or Never”. They picked right up where they left off with a menacing five track EP back in July. “5 Deadly Venoms” put V Don’s expert production and the many flows of Da$h on front street. A duo that has always held themselves to high standards.

"The Whole Of The Moon" is a classic. It's a song about awe and hope and love for the people who show us the best of this often broken world, the blessed few who show the way and introduce us to things and thoughts. Keith McIvor aka JD Twitch of Optimo was one of those people, and this version of the track - electronic, euphoric, open-hearted - was made by some members of the broader Optimo community after his terminal brain cancer diagnosis in 2025. The task of making a version that could've been heard on the dance floor at Planet Peach, Mas, or the Sub Club on a Sunday night or Monday morning brought them together across oceans, an act of joy amidst so much loss. It was never intended to be released, but as it made its way to friends and others, it also felt wrong not to. Its sentiment is universal and applies to so many incredible people in music and beyond that are sadly missed. So here is the Watergirls' first and last track, presented as a limited white label with some particularly lethal mixes from Sean Johnston of Hardway Bros and A Love From Outer Space. We're giving all the profits to charity. It's meant to be played out. It's meant to make two friends hug and sing into each other's faces. It's for Keith and for everyone like him.

This is the first full-length release from South Korea"s beloved pansori psych-pop band available worldwide. The release follows an extremely successful and eventful year for LEENALCHI. They had their first-ever North American tour, opening for Japanese Breakfast at Stern Grove, sessions at KCRW and (rumor has it) KEXP, and in the fall, they"ll be on the East Coast, including opening for Geese at Forest Hills on the very same date this record comes out. LEENALCHI is led by the great composer Jang Young-Gyu, who has undoubtedly scored all your favorite Korean horror movies, including The Wailing, Train To Busan, and the Good, The Bad, The Weird. Sugungga sounds like animals talking to each other over tripped-out bass lines. It gets its name from the old Korean folk tale about a clever and loyal turtle who tries to lure a rabbit underwater and into the lair of a Dragon King who has come down with an illness that can only be cured by the rabbit"s liver. What is the fate of the rabbit? This fall, you will find out.

Naarm/Melbourne-based artist Now Always Fades returns with Coalesce, the follow-up to his widely acclaimed 2025 album Into The Doldrums. The project of Xavier Bacash, Coalesce sees the musician evolving his modernised approach to downtempo and trip-hop, genres in which he has been heralded as a leading new voice amid their growing popularity. Across the record, NAF's musical and thematic universe expands with the return and addition of a series of new vocal collaborators, speaking to the versatility of a voice as a contextual instrument. In doing so, throughout 'Coalesce', he continues to develop a kind of sonic consistency that focuses on shared emotion above all else. In pursuing those feelings, Now Always Fades finds himself alongside a series of strong and soulful voices: Alia Seror-O'Neill, otherwise known as Alias Error; Lili Hall; and Olive Kimoto, NTS Radio host and singer behind influential 90s band Locust. Throughout the record, each vocalist finds themselves on tracks entirely for them, and in doing so, the NAF project provides everyone involved, and the listener, with something sonically new but emotionally familiar at every turn.

2026 Repress

'Quiet Pieces' initiates Abul Mogard’s personal imprint Soft Echoes with a definitive self-portrait of calm, contemplative, and discreet inner landscapes made audible. It is the first solo album on vinyl in four years. RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker.

While sifting through archived material left idle from earlier projects, a chance encounter with a late uncle’s trove of beloved 78rpm classical and opera records prompted the reworking and completion of what would eventually become the album. Spinning dusty records at 33 and 45rpm, Abul Mogard recombined their enduring spectres with unfinished sketches from his archive. The resulting soundscape blurs distinctions between his memories and those of another, exquisitely short-circuiting the senses with its waking, dream-like lucidity.

This was a process I hadn’t explored in my earlier works. I began sampling brief moments from these records, altering them with studio effects and playing them at slower speeds. In many cases, I wasn’t entirely sure how the original music sounded. These fragments, once further processed, became a source of inspiration for my new compositions. Over time, I realised that the old pieces from the archive and the new material derived from the samples naturally complemented each other.”

The resulting pieces hover over a threshold, a liminal space that harmonises the old and older material. Voluminous waves of quiet and loud undulate between consonance and dissonance, conjuring imagery of a decaying grandeur that humanity’s decadence has surrendered to the elements. Abul Mogard’s seemingly abandoned yet vast landscapes are nevertheless intimate with timbral frissons of red-lined distortion. Elusive, yet as tangible as sea spray or smog, they affect the olfactory senses with a rarified, synesthetic quality that modestly engages one’s emotional register – a hypnotic, distinguishing feature long hailed as one of the hallmarks of his work. A fidelity to memory and dream recall is sensitively probed in the journey from the stately symphonic stasis of 'Following a dream' to the almost industrial, untethered brutality evoked by a looming silhouette that’s never fully visible in 'Constantly slipping away', culminating in the foreboding coda of 'Like a bird'. Those pieces appear to shield the album’s sentimental core, where the tempestuous play of light and shadow of 'In a studded procession' escalates to breathtaking, panoramic climax, while 'Through whispers' evokes an out-of-body-like experience encountered with visceral poignancy.

Looking back, Mogard notes an unexpected influence: “I realise being inspired by Phill Niblock, whose work I had barely known at the time but explored after his passing in 2024. His album 'Boston Tenor Index' changed the way I approached dissonance. It encouraged me to push my sound further, to the edge of a space where I began to feel uncomfortable.”

The album artwork, created by longtime collaborator Marja de Sanctis, features a photograph taken at the Temple of Jupiter Anxur, an archaeological site overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Captured with an iPhone, the image traces the residual presence of construction techniques and architectural forms of the Romans, where material history is transcribed through contemporary tools. The convergence of ancient and modern technology aims to reverberate the site’s lasting spiritual presence – an echo persisting in what is now perceived as a quiet, emptied space. The spiral gestures towards infinity and light. Past and present dissolve into one another, reflecting 'Quiet Pieces' meditation on sound, memory, and time.

RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker

Parisian minimal maestro olivier romero and reflex blue team up for an EP of stripped back house music. Inspired by each-others sonic palette, the duo fuse together their influences and express themselves fully through a two track journey of straight-to-the-point club sounds.

2026 Repress

Ezra Feinberg's third album Soft Power sees the composer-guitarist enlist an impressive array of fellow musicians including Mary Lattimore, David Moore (Bing & Ruth), Jefre Cantu-Ledesma, Robbie Lee and share the life affirming lead single 'Future Sand'.

Defined by its abundance of melodies, repeating figures and ecstatic improvisations, Soft Power exudes an enlightened and transformative spirit to empower the listener. Feinberg, a practising psychoanalyst and former founding member of the San Francisco psychedelic collective Citay (Dead Oceans / Important Records) resides in the artistic enclave of upstate New York's Hudson River valley. Initial recordings emerged in the late summer of 2020, before added synthesis with collaborator John Thayer (Arp, Sunwatchers) during early 2021. Soft Power follows previous albums 'Recumbent Speech' (2020) and 'Pentimento and Others' (2018).

Feinberg artfully transcends the listener to an enriched place, his compositions distinguished by the deep humanity that lies at their core, plugging the listener into a state of wide eyed being, open and alive. Soft Power then is Ezra's own mantra but also one of power giving - a colourful catharsis translated into music.

Feinberg's music always speaks to the listener, but Soft Power, in whispering, speaks loudest.

"Much like everyday life, I wanted to convey these very plain, simple, tranquil, nearly quotidian aspects, but each piece contains this arc in which that form expands, is broken out of, so what starts out like a painting of flowers in a seaside motel turns into a riot of color and sound, or you feel slipped into a dream that feels like it could go on forever"

For any collaborative project to succeed, the artists involved need a creative unifier – a meeting point, if you will, of their disparate interests and experiences. In the case of Mondo Love & Betrayal, the joint project of Nottingham musical mainstays Neil ‘Nail’ Tolliday and Henry Claude Scott, there were two creative unifiers: a mutual love of classic 1980s synth-pop, as well as shared admiration for each other’s work.

Even so, such shared interests and respect for prior mutual endeavours is no guarantee of success. Yet as their eponymous debut album emphatically proves, the duo’s disparate experiences, characteristics and musical strengths have not only dovetailed beautifully, but also resulted in serious sonic gold. Put simply, Mondo Love & Betrayal is a stunning debut album rich in emotive songs, colourful melodies, atmospheric chord progressions and infectious grooves. Throw in the sun-splashed warmth and saucer-eyed, loved-up tactility of late 80s dance beats, and you have a breakthrough album whose timelessness is evident from start to finish.

The project’s roots lie in Tolliday’s desire to work with Scott, a virtuoso guitarist, talented producer and secret songwriter best-known for his work alongside Huw Costin as Torn Sail, and John ‘Ming’ Thompson as Brown Fang – both projects known for prioritising organic instrumentation and sunset-ready soundscapes over dancefloor-rooted beats.

Tolliday, of course, is one of British electronic music’s true polymaths – a long-serving house producer best-known for his long-running Bent project alongside fellow Nottingham resident Simon Mills. He initially approached Scott with the idea of providing vocals on a house track he was working on, but quickly suggested something else: an exploration of a classic synth-pop sound inspired by his love of Pet Shop Boys, New Order, Depeche Mode and the producers who worked with them – the likes of Martin Hannett, Arthur Baker, Stephen Hague and John Robie.

Scott accepted the invitation, seeing it as an opportunity to explore a different side of his musical personality. Their first recording session resulted in the ear-catching and memorable brilliance of ‘Correspondence’ – a tongue-in-cheek breakup song inspired by the death of landlines and the rise of mobile communications – and soon they were working on their debut album.

The resultant 10-track set is simply sublime, with Scott’s expressive delivery of his own lyrics on life, love, heartache and rejection working in perfect union with Tolliday’s kaleidoscopic and pleasingly authentic backing tracks – gorgeous and beautifully rendered instrumentals rich in memorable melodies, bittersweet chords, and subtle nods to ‘80s and early ‘90s dance-pop culture, from Shep Pettibone style remixes and Bernard Sumner guitar licks, to Beloved-esque piano parts and Chris Lowe chord progressions. Some listeners may also draw favourable comparisons with 21st century synth-pop practitioners, particularly Parcels, Private Agenda and the deeply emotive songs showcased by Junior Boys.

For proof, wrap your ears around such album highlights as opener ‘Boo Boo’, where Scott warns that “love and betrayal will haunt you” atop sparkling synths and Vince Clarke style grooves, the Behaviour-era PSB melancholy of recent single ‘Your Latest’, the mid-tempo dreaminess of ‘Beyond The Rainy City’, the early Depeche Mode chug of ‘Whatever Happened To Me’ and the tactile warmth of ‘Across The Plane’.

We could go on. In truth, the whole album is – in Scott’s words – “magical musical alchemy”. Wherever they choose to go next, Mondo Love & Betrayal is a seriously good sonic statement of intent.

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Composer and multi-instrumentalist Koen Holtkamp has spent more than two decades shaping a body of work at the intersection of ambient, experimental, and electroacoustic music. Known for his role in the influential duo Mountains, as well as a solo catalog defined by texture and spatial awareness, Holtkamp has long explored how sound interacts with environment and perception. With Nightlife, he enters a new phase of that inquiry, one shaped as much by physical relocation as artistic evolution.

After leaving Brooklyn for the relatively rural setting of New York’s Hudson Valley, Holtkamp found himself immersed in nature and embracing a slower way of life, a shift that directly informed the album’s creation. Rather than rushing into a new project, he allowed the space itself to guide him, focusing on experimentation and play instead of a fixed outcome. Over time, a new instrument emerged from his modular system, built around physical modeling techniques that emulate plucked string sounds. Drawing on a deep affinity for acoustic traditions, from guitar soli to the kora and other chordophones, he began translating those influences into an electronic language, creating music that feels tangible, effusive, and even intimate, despite its synthetic nature. As the pieces took shape, Holtkamp expanded the project into a kind of imagined ensemble. Composed with specific collaborators in mind, the album features extensive contributions from drummer Greg Fox and saxophonist and flutist Matt Bauder, whose performances subtly reshape the material and draw it toward more fluid, song-like forms, alongside a guest appearance from Ben Vida on synth bass. Yet even as Nightlife occasionally resembles a band in motion, its construction resists traditional cohesion. Acoustic and electronic sources coexist to create a hyper-dimensional sense of space, with each element deliberately placed in its own distinct environment, yielding a complex yet inviting setting that feels both otherworldly and completely natural.

Much of the album was created during late-night sessions, which became a kind of personal ritual and ultimately inspired its title. Nightlife unfolds as a series of finely detailed environments, where stillness, texture, and subtle interplay take precedence over momentum. Each piece invites close listening while remaining open and unforced, reflecting both a change in pace and a deepening of focus. The result extends Holtkamp’s ongoing interest in how sound can shape, and be shaped by, the spaces we inhabit.

Axis Expressionist Series

A collection of vinyl and limited digital releases, curated by Millsart, an alias of Jeff Mills, of his most eclectic and transcendent compositions that derive from his Every Dog Has Its Day project as well as new unreleased works. Vernacular creations that fall off from the "other side" of the Electronic Music tree, this project is designed for the experienced Techno music listeners, and its goal is to reflect upon the pure artistry of the craft of storytelling. A realization between music and life. Whereas "dancing" is the goal of Dance Music, the goal of this music is about "reflecting on the complexity and simplification of life".Soundtracks for people in their evolutionary process.

This release 'Drifter' is about 'Hype'.



Hype

An animal that prowls on the vulnerable - it excites those who might be looking the other way or with their eyes and minds wide shut.

What is life without hype?

As a transitional tool, hype can be most effective especially when impulse reactions are at play. Something of a psychological currency, there is a lot to gain by giving people what they want - the rush that comes with taking part in a process of making something bigger, more successful and more preferred. Even if there is nothing there.

What's wrong with getting exciting about something?

There are only a few rare masterclass cases that have lasted a lifetime.

As Andy Warhol proclaimed that "everyone will be World famous for 15 minutes" rings darkly true in an era when each one of us can be the talent scout, artist, critic, audience.......and then a revisionist, hoping to bring hype back again by reminding people how great the first round felt.

We are all free to use our attention and time anyway we please. This is the freedom we have, right?

In most cases, we wake up and at some point, the question of justification becomes a debate between those who found unconditional solace and those who re-discovered the subject of substance and "kicked the tires".

Should I care if others like or dislike something?

For some, the hype of something never ends. It hardens and becomes part of a foundation like a cement podium. Something to be stood on to speak over all dissenting voices.

„Öd“ marks the long-awaited return of Institut für Feinmotorik - the Black Forest collective known for using eight prepared turntables to investigate acoustic micro-phenomena generated by everyday objects - with a new album and their first full-length release on Faitiche. It is also the return of their almost comical understatement as personal artistic principle: „making almost nothing out of almost nothing,“ compressed into the dots on an umlaut.

The Öd-nis, the wasteland, is a field that the collective has been ploughing in sound since their first release in 1997. Eight prepared turntables, four mixers, no records, six hands (give or take) merge into what they call the „Octogrammoticum“. A rotating organism of surfaces in friction, fed with the clutter from a drawer: rubber bands or tin foil, CDs, a discarded socket board. Under IFF's scrutinizing stylus, mundane almost-nothings get scratched open to reveal the acoustic density of negative space itself.

Last year’s „Adhesive Tape“ drew IFF closer together after an almost ten-year hiatus. An eponymous event series at Berlin's silent green set in motion what would become their most twistedly funky release since „Penetrans“ on Staubgold in 2002.

The only thing öd about „Öd" (meaning „barren" or „boring“ in German) may well be its title: layers of improvised play and randomized loops convolve around porous, dubby groove locks, tugging at each other in a call-and-response with howling static that cuts through bulbous ambient techno into a scrap-metal Dixieland phantasm. Stratified yet spacious, these sonic double exposures always hover on the verge of collapsing. What you think you hear might not be what you actually hear.

The album’s track titles resemble Conceptual Poetry, extending this psycho-phenomenological gesture into the realm of spoken language. Conceived by renowned poet Dagmara Kraus, they become word molecules - „stern,” „dies,” „lose“ - tilting delicately between German and English, constantly changing depending on the ear’s perspective and pointing back to the deeply unstable fabric connecting meaning and sound. Which also makes „Öd“ an unusual cross-disciplinary collaboration - at least in the field of electronic music.

PS: Since its beginnings in Bad Säckingen, IFF has always been more than the sum of its rotating parts, moving tirelessly between multimedia art, theory, solo projects and collaborations. With IFF Expanded, the collective now opens its eight-doored apparatus, inviting artists working with CDJs or samplers to join - an ambitious live format that loosens its former purity law while carrying forward a long-standing curatorial practice. The same thread also runs into the related event series Acephalic Headspace.

Institut für Feinmotorik (*1997), artist-group originating from Black Forest working in various fields. In musical context known for transforming turntables into instruments by removing the records and instead applying rubber bands, paper scraps, household materials – resulting in a vivid laboratory for the productive misuse of everyday objects. This approach is documented in record releases and performed live.

LIMITED PRESS ACT FAST

Ever-evolving Amsterdam duo ANOTR continue their forward momentum with the release of their highly anticipated third studio album, ‘Withness’, out via their own imprint No Art. Rooted firmly in dance music, ‘Withness’ sees the pair refine their sound into their most dance-floor focused and cohesive project to date.

Born during their global tour, ‘Withness’ was shaped in real time: written, tested and refined on dancefloors across the world. Following the expansive, genre-blurring approach of their 2025 LP ‘On A Trip’, the duo felt a pull back toward the club - not as a limitation, but as a unifying space. “We really wanted to have a wide variety of songs that we can play out and create moments,” they explain. “Every track needed to make sense wherever people come together to dance.”

That intention sits at the heart of ‘Withness’. A title that reimagines the idea of “witnessing” into something more active and collective. ‘Withness’ is an album about experiencing life with others. It’s about the moments you share, the people who shape them, and the energy that becomes real only when you’re fully present. The album captures the collective high of friendship. Whether in a packed club, at a festival, or in a living room with friends, the album is designed to soundtrack moments of connection.

“The memories you make with people, they’re the witness of those moments. Withness is about being in it together.” - ANOTR

Sonically, the album marks a clear evolution. Drawing from their early club roots while building on the songwriting confidence developed on their previous records, classic drum machines and 909 samples sit alongside warm, 80s-tinged textures, layered vocals and modern production techniques, creating a sound that feels both nostalgic and forward-thinking.

A key part of the process was spontaneity. The duo embraced a free-flowing, collaborative studio environment, often working with a rotating cast of contributors. Their now-signature “open mic” approach encouraged anyone in the room to experiment with melodies, lyrics and vocal ideas. This energy translates directly into the album’s standout moments. From the euphoric pull of ‘Withness’ to the groove-led ‘Do It With Ya’, the uplifting ‘Paradise’, each track is built to live beyond a single setting.

The LP comes at a timely moment, as their single ‘Talk To You ft. 54 Ultra’ has become the biggest global breakout dance single this year. Sitting firmly in Spotify’s Global Top 200, it has surpassed 175 million streams, and is currently No. 21 in the UK Singles Chart. Spotify have tipped it in their much-coveted global ‘Sound Of The Summer 2026’ list and other highlights include peaking at No. 7 in Shazam’s Global Chart, No.1 on Beatport Top 100 and gaining over 600M UGC views so far.

Environments are sticky, they stick to whatever happens within them. They can’t help it. And neither can you.

Land of the Few and Far Between / Songs for St. Michel is a collection of musical ‘figures’ written and recorded in 2022 and 2023 using a method Lyckle and Kim call the ‘snelkookpan’, translated as the pressure cooker. The ’snelkookpan’ in essence is trying to write and live-record as many musical figures in a given timeframe in a specific place. For ‘Land of the Few and Far Between’ this was an afternoon and evening in an exhibition Kim had curated about collecting and memory in The Hague. For ‘Songs of St. Michel’ this was 6 days in the basement of an art institution in Maastricht where they were joined by Otto de Jong on guitar. The figures are usually worked out by ear, sometimes improvised, sometimes written down, but often they are simply remembered and soon after recording forgotten. For ‘Land of the Few and Far Between’ they recorded ten figures. For ‘Songs for St. Michel’ fifteen. Of each a selection of five ended up on this seven inch.

F. van Abeelen (one of whom’s drawings is pictured on the sleeve of this seven inch and of whom 750 drawings were part of the exhibition mentioned above) was forced as a boy to hide in a basement for years. Only a small window gave access to the outside world. That sliver was his reality. After these years in hiding he began drawing his sliver of reality obsessively. Daily series of similar drawings that he would meticulously catalogue in an organizer. We never met F. Our friend who discovered the drawings in a closet of psychiatric nursing home Dorestad never met F. We only recorded ten musical figures next to 750 drawings by F.

St. Michel is a house that stands on the outskirts of Maastricht. It is built on the floodplains of the river Maas and living there you see the river change daily. It is a river fed by rain. No rain means a low river. Rain means a river that sometimes comes frighteningly close to flooding. Which it sometimes does. Due to the ebb and flow of the Maas, stuff is deposited in the boggy areas that are its floodplains. A shoe, a CD, a drone, some wood.

Places impress themselves onto what you are doing. You become an unwitting prop in the place’s story.

The first ‘snelkookpan’ happened in 2017 in the water-basin of one of the earliest concrete structures in the Netherlands; a bunker that was part of Amsterdam’s defensive line, built around the 1890’s. Something that used to house water was now empty. For three days Kim and Lyckle recorded improvised music there, which is still alive on a hard drive somewhere. In 2020 they recorded ‘the third of May’ at an old pumping station in Den Helder; an eleven part piece of auditory historical-horror which was released by South of North in 2024. Since 2023 Lyckle and Kim have mainly recorded live shows. With a Clarinet, kawai K1, Ipad, organelle, samplers and a variety of instruments curated for their minimal size or odd sound they’ve made chains of brief and improvised mini compositions inspired by browsing environments (digital and otherwise).

Land of the Few and Far Between / Songs for St. Michel adds to this growing collection of recordings for environments that are somehow sticky.

Als Sänger, Songwriter, Schauspieler und Model hat sich Troye Sivan längst als eine der prägendsten Popstimmen seiner Generation etabliert.
Seine Musik verbindet emotionale Offenheit mit modernem Synth-Pop, euphorischen Dance- und ClubSounds und persönlichen Geschichten über Liebe, Begehren, Identität und Selbstfindung.
Mit seinem vierten Album „She’s the Best“ führt Troye diesen Weg weiter: Intim und selbstbewusst zugleich bringt das Album all das zusammen, was Troye Sivans Musik ausmacht – große Popmomente,
emotionale Verletzlichkeit, pulsierende Club-Energie und eine unverwechselbare queere Perspektive. Das
Album beschäftigt sich mit Begehren, Identität, Freude, Einsamkeit und queerem Zugehörigkeitsgefühl und
ist als immersives Projekt konzipiert, das ebenso visuell wie musikalisch erlebt werden soll.
Seit seinem Debütalbum Blue Neighbourhood (2015) und dem Nachfolger Bloom (2018) hat Troye seinen
Sound und seine visuelle Welt kontinuierlich weiterentwickelt. Songs wie „Youth“, „My My My!“, „Dance
To This“ feat. Ariana Grande, „Angel Baby“ und „Rush“ machten ihn zu einem international gefeierten
Pop-Artist. Einen bisherigen Karrierehöhepunkt markierte sein drittes Studioalbum Something to Give Each
Other (2023). Die Leadsingle „Rush“ entwickelte sich zum globalen Dance-Pop-Hit, erreichte international
hohe Chartplatzierungen und brachte Troye u.a. zwei Grammy-Nominierungen ein.
Die enge Verbindung zu seiner Community und eine selbstverständliche queere Perspektive prägen Troye
Sivans Musik und visuelle Welt seit jeher. Mit She’s the Best entwickelt er diese weiter und eröffnet
ein neues Kapitel, in dem Pop, Performance, Fashion und Clubkultur zu einer unverwechselbaren Einheit
verschmelzen.

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

Hallelujah Trial is Tom Roberts (Cranebuilders, Beatowls) and John Canning Yates (Ella Guru): two Liverpool songwriters who knew each other for twenty years before they ever played a note together. Roberts brought a folder of songs to Yates' front room. Yates answered with piano. A weekly ritual of tea and talk became a repertoire, the repertoire became a debut performance at the final La Violette Società, and a few weeks later the songs became an album, recorded in May 2026 in the Gustav Adolf Church, the Scandinavian seamen's church on the edge of Liverpool's Baltic Triangle.

The sound is spacious, stripped back and gloriously melodic: voice, guitar and piano, songs in a room, storytelling that recalls Bill Callahan, Lee Hazlewood and the late Johnny Cash records. Yates' Ella Guru drew a Peel session and 'the best debut album since Marquee Moon' from the Independent on Sunday. Roberts' Cranebuilders recorded two Peel sessions of their own. The pedigree is genuine. The songs are better.

Recorded, mixed and produced by John Canning Yates. Mastered by Jason Mitchell (PJ Harvey, Aldous Harding). Sleeve by Pascal Blua, after a rose from William Turner's herbal of 1568. The closing 'Reprise' carries a hallelujah chorus of friends and family, recorded live in the ch

To kick off our 5th year party celebrations the label begins its new set of releases starting with the joined forces of Regal86 and IMOGEN. The artists contribute two tracks each to the four track vinyl alongside remixes of each other's work, meeting at sonic crossroads.

The EP journeys through rave nostalgia filled with warmth and hope for the future, recollecting some favourite memories of the dance floor.

The A side is fast, driving with a sense of longing for the Halcyon Days and the offline times of partying when things felt easier. The release opens with ‘One Night In 1992’, IMOGEN’s nostalgic ode to an earlier rave era, built around a vocal recollection of her mother’s experiences on the dancefloor in the 90’s. Raw, hazy and deeply personal, it sets the tone for a record rooted in memory while remaining firmly in the present. Regal86 follows with ‘Rush’, bringing a different energy to the record. Driven by rolling rhythms, playful movement and a strong sense of groove.

The B side takes a more optimistic turn looking into the future with dubby aquatic pads and euphoric breakdowns, carrying a feeling of forward motion. There is a lightness to the tracks, a sense of joy running beneath NC Station and keeping the momentum locked whilst turning inwards on the final track, IMOGEN’s ‘Midnight At Bret’ rounds out a release that moves naturally between nostalgia, propulsion and the shared language of the dance floor.

As the next release launches, IMOGEN takes wigs on tour for a five year special run of shows starting on release at Tresor for a two club take over following with further cities: London, Milan, Dublin and more.

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

The sun sat high above the desert outside Joshua Tree on October 17, 2024, baking the rocks and shrubbery outside the Farrington Observatory as a small group of invited guests ventured up a steep path towards the telescope. Kyle Simon, the artist and printmaker who founded the Observatory, was standing outside the print studio sat below the towering cylindrical building, greeting friends alongside his wife Sarah and lifelong friend Brian Weitz, the musician widely known as Geologist of Animal Collective. Simon and Weitz had spent the previous day testing and retesting a system that would transform the light of the oncoming full moon captured by the gigantic telescope into a signal that would modulate the control voltage of Weitz’s modular synthesizer. As the sun dipped below the horizon line, the audience gathered on a small wooden patio surrounded by speakers while Weitz readied himself behind the array of patches and knobs. Simon addressed the group, presenting the history of The Sirens, the sonic exploration of the night sky’s mystical and scientific significance about to unfold.

The music conjured under the Hunter’s Moon that night is now documented on this first official release of The Sirens, which was conceived by Simon and Weitz as a recurring performance piece and sound installation. Over a decade ago, Simon began immersing himself in literature on humanity’s sonic relationship to the celestial realm, including Homer’s Odyssey, Plato’s “Spindle of Necessity, ” Kepler’s Harmonices Mundi, and the field of astroseismology. He fitted homemade telescopes with photodiodes and optical sensors to make the images audible, finding latent patterns in the noisy sonic signals he began receiving from the stars. With Weitz, the process expanded as the signal was routed through an analog amplifier and set to modulate the pitch, filter, and other elements of his synthesizer. Together they developed a system of improvisation, with Simon adjusting the telescope to change the intensity of the light based on its relationship with the moon’s position (imagine a theremin player moving their hands in subtle, meaningful motion), and Weitz responding to that input in real time: bending it, amplifying it, or letting it stand on its own. The duo debuted the piece at the Integretron in Joshua Tree in 2018, providing a crucial proof of concept for the performance at Farrington featured here.

The first thing the listener hears on The Sirens is the opening of Farrington Observatory, the cranking of motor and metal. As the lens of the telescope is exposed to the evening air, a wavering drone emerges from the synthesizer, flickering at the margins, the tuning of the oscillators adjusting to the rapidly cooling desert air. The piece progresses and the drone becomes a luminous, spherical constant, bathing the listener in pure tone as Weitz draws out harmonically ambiguous melodies that spiral upwards. Electronics crackle and convulse, coalescing into dense dissonance before widening out into an open octave. Just as the moon orbits the Earth and the stars shift as the planet rotates, so each sonic element appears in flux, interrelationships slowly forming and falling away. Divided into two parts, The Sirens flows as a continuous conversation between the artists and the starlight completing its thousand-year journey across the galaxy.

The Sirens belongs primarily to a lineage beyond music: of sea captains navigating by looking skyward, of astrophysicists studying the formation of the Milky Way, of the modern myths of werewolves, of the stories embedded in constellations. As Simon writes in the album’s extensive liner notes, “These stories and explorations reveal a collective yearning to become conscious of our connection to the universe, our deep-seated desire to understand how we fit into it all.” This music underscores the history of the night sky as the place where poetry and science find common ground, where exploration hinges on the imagination. Driven by curiosity and ingenuity, Weitz and Simon look up and wonder.

After decades contributing to records where a single riff could transform a dancefloor, Charlie May turns that instinct inward on Trusted Farms.
For over thirty years, Charlie has occupied a position that seems increasingly rare in electronic music: the musician’s musician, the person behind the machines, the extra pair of hands in the studio, and quite often, the person responsible for the melody you end up carrying around in your head for weeks on end. 
Alongside Duncan Forbes as Spooky, Charlie helped shape some of the most important electronic music to emerge from the UK in the early ’90s. That partnership would also sow the seeds for one of Sasha’s defining records: the central riff behind Xpander began life in Spooky’s live material, before Charlie brought the idea into the studio with Sasha and helped transform it into one of electronic music’s most enduring anthems.
Listen closely to Charlie’s work and there’s a particular instinct that keeps returning: knowing when a simple synth line is enough. Knowing which note needs to change. Knowing when repetition stops being repetition and starts becoming the entire reason a track works. More recently, as one-third of Quiet Places on ASIP, he’s taken those same instincts somewhere looser — beatless, gridless and led by improvisation.
Trusted Farms puts those instincts front and centre.
Tiny melodic phrases appear and refuse to leave. Synth lines repeat just long enough to become lodged in your head. Parts rub against each other without being tidied into submission. There’s a sharpness and directness to it all amongst the purposeful analogue warmth.
Some of these tracks feel almost ridiculously simple at first. But simplicity is difficult when you’ve spent decades learning every possible way to complicate something. Many of the parts on Trusted Farms were performed live with minimal editing. A synth line might be doubled, distorted, re-recorded and pushed back through another piece of equipment, but it remains the same idea. Instead of filling the gaps, Charlie works on the weight and character of what is already there. The melodies become physical; slightly worn around the edges.
For someone whose fingerprints can be found across some genuinely monumental moments in electronic music, Charlie has spent decades knowing what to add. 
Trusted Farms is about knowing exactly what to leave alone.
Available on black 12”, mastered by Andreas Lupo LOOP-O Lubich and featuring artwork by Peter Skwiot Smith,

2026 Repress

Few producers embody the soulful heart of House Music quite like Move D. Being a mentor of the label since day one, All That Jelly brings together two defining and desirable cuts from David Moufang’s recent history to one record.
'To The Disco ’77' 2013 original version for the A-side and the 2017 live rework finds its way to the B-side, both freshly remastered by the amazing and sought after Andreas Kauffelt. 'To The Disco ’77', opens with a clean, electro-styled beat that has a restrained power and a controlled tension that gradually blooms as the keys start to lift the mood into something lighter. When the iconic 'to the disco' vocal sample cuts through, it’s like a wink
from the past, threading disco’s golden exuberance through the disciplined swing of classic house. The track is a seamless blend of Funk, Disco, House and Electro with each element raw yet playful, woven into a groove that never stops urging you forward. It’s a masterclass in balance: sleek but deeply human, nostalgic but alive in the moment. It's like listening to the history of dance music in one special track.
'To The Disco ’77 (Move D Live Rework)' stretches the idea out into something even more fluid. The groove loosens, the funk rises to the surface and the extended runtime gives space for guitar and bass lines to share center stage, riffing around each other with organic warmth. The 'to the disco' mantra remains, grounding the track in its celebratory intent. It’s the kind of tune that closes a night perfectly and makes you not want to leave the dancefloor. Reissued together, these versions show Move D’s masterful ability to bridge eras and genres, reminding listeners that the dancefloor is as much about emotion as it is about motion.

Cooper Saver joins the Dream Space family for his first solo EP in 6 years, which was well worth the wait.

Born in LA and now residing in Squamish BC, Cooper ran the infamous Far Away parties in his home city through the mid-to-late 2010’s. Over the past decade, he has released exceptional music and remixes on labels such as Hivern Discs, Permanent Vacation, Internasjonal, DFA and more.

Working often as a collaborator, his recent projects alongside Chris Macintyre as Inner Flight and Night Cycle, and as part of hardcore punk band Self Arrest, all hold up to the same high quality output.

After being in contact with each other for years, it feels like a full circle moment to be working with Cooper and sharing more of his music with the world.

Across all four tracks he dives deeper into the new progression of his sound. From the peak time energy of Depths Of Reality and cosmic radiance of Be Alive, to the understated and shimmering B side of Glider / Running In Circles, this one’s an essential.

Revered worldwide for their love-fueled, technically adventurous all-vinyl b2b DJ sets, Maya Bouldry-Morrison (Octo Octa) and Eris Drew conceived Alchemical Sisters as a vehicle for creating music together. Alchemical Sisters describe themselves as "psychedelic chaos, acid rollers, and big beat, channeled through hardware instruments and animated by love, touch, rhythm, and spiritual fire." Their self-titled debut double album is forthcoming on Interdimensional Transmissions this October, just in time for Samhain XXVI. Alchemical Sisters was recorded in the forests of New Hampshire by Maya and Eris and mixed by BMG in Detroit in the Interdimensional Laboratory on high end hardware for ecstatically euphonic results. In the cold winter months, Maya and Eris emptied the master bedroom of their forest cabin and sealed it as an alchemical retort--a hermetic vessel in which a higher form could emerge. For a year they slept on the studio floor while, in white nightgowns and under the spell of mushrooms, they brought dulcimers and ancestral instruments into communion with turntables, twentieth-century machines, and new technologies. Alchemical Sisters is the substance crystallized within that vessel by their secret fire. They then brought their music to BMG in Detroit to meticulously mix their vision through hardware, in a high end studio environment. For two weeks at the height of winter, we shut out the world and focused on fusing their sonic vision within the Interdimensional Laboratory. Setting up their computer and sound card, BMG processed their tracking sessions through a high end mixing console, using transformers and tubes and the special properties of many machines to create a solid visceral sound out of a dream, to create a powerful euphonic ecstatic experience from their highly personal highly evolved music, whose sources could be both carnal and celestial. It was important to have their music connect before thought, to feel both the power and the gentleness of their sound, to have the texture and presence of their myriad influences unconsciously affect you. Watching them work together, the patience, the focus, the rigorous thought and discipline, the love, the space and the dedication afforded to each other was a genuinely inspiring thing to witness. They truly are Alchemical Sisters, and we are extremely proud to share their debut album on IT, and their debut performance at IT's Samhain XXVI. It truly is a loop point in time, a full circle moment.

DJ Deep and Traumer continue the Get-Rooted journey with a new four-track EP that once again reflects the label’s concept: two artists sharing their individual perspectives while complementing each other’s musical language.

The release opens with DJ Deep’s original version of “Come Get It”, a timeless House cut deeply inspired by the spirit of the early ’90s, with a subtle nod to the legendary sound of Murk. Traumer then delivers his own interpretation of the track, transforming it into a more contemporary and forward-looking production while preserving its original essence.

Bridging the two versions is a dedicated DJ Tool, designed to seamlessly transition from one interpretation to the other, or to be used creatively in the mix alongside other records.

The EP closes with “Le Coton”, an elegant and sophisticated House track whose timeless groove perfectly rounds off this third Get-Rooted release.

The most beautiful thing we’ve ever released?

It is virtually impossible to describe with mere words how emotionally powerful this work of art is. Just listen. Listen, listen, listen...

A blissed-out 80-minute epic, Hatchback's Phaser For The Ocean, Chorus For The Moon is his magnum opus, a sprawling masterwork that encompasses ambient, new age and environmental music to wondrous effect. Moving, hypnotic and deeply meditative, it's FFO Mike Brooks, Deuter, Klaus Weiss, Innovative Communication, Harmonia, Cluster, Ashra's New Age of Earth, Stomu Yamashta, Haruka Nakamura, Yoshimura, Hosono, the works.

A record truly deserving of the deluxe Be With treatment, the vinyl was specially cut at Abbey Road Studios whilst the original stunning artwork has been pleasingly expanded. Now, an eye-catching holographic-foil layer moon is set against the original tones, wrapped up in a sumptuous double-gatefold jacket.

Soaked in Californian consciousness and limited to a run of just 500 copies for the world, this release is a treasured balm like no other for these troubled times.

Hatchback is the atmospheric, melodious ambient alias of California-based artist Samuel Milton Grawe. Sam creates music that sings of the Cosmos, full of deep resonant tones, glistening arpeggios, lush pads and harmonic motifs.

"When I first was getting into the creative side of music making in my teens, I was heavily influenced by concept albums like Quadrophenia and The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, as well as epic pieces that took up an entire side of a record: Pink Floyd’s Echoes, Yes’ Close To The Edge, Klaus Schulze’s Nowhere Now Here, Miles Davis' Shhh/Peaceful and He Loved Him Madly. In the extreme, these ideas coalesced in double albums where each side of each record is occupied by a single title - Yes’ Tales From Topographic Oceans and Tangerine Dream’s Zeit being primary examples. When I returned to making music after moving back to Northern California in 2020, the first piece I recorded landed around the 20-minute mark, and the idea of creating three other long pieces to realize a full album felt like a natural - if indulgent - goal. From there, each new piece followed sequentially. Four songs. My fourth album." - Sam Grawe

Phaser For The Ocean Chorus For The Moon is a pure expression, informed by a lifetime of deep listening unbound by algorithms or AI. These are songs for the sunrise and the sunset - and every colour in between.

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

If you dig deep enough into the internet's lower depths, you'll find a shaky video shot on a camcorder. In 43 seconds, we see a makeshift drum kit built out of backyard Ostbahnhof trash, hear distorted vocals, and feel the anarchic energy of band and ravers dissolving into each other. It's now been twenty years since Bonaparte played their very first show at the legendary Bar25 on Berlin's Spree river. The ringmaster of this unhinged musical theater was Tobias Jundt then, and it's Jundt again now bringing the Bonaparte extravaganza back to the stage. New and nostalgic sit close together when the party's been going this long. Or, as they put it: "PARADISE IF YOU CAN STAND IT."

From late October through mid-November, Bonaparte will tour Germany, Austria, and Jundt's native Switzerland at full intensity, the full lineup - band to burlesque. Since their 2006 debut through their supposed farewell in 2019, Bonaparte played over 800 shows in 28 countries. Bottom line: "Too Much" isn't enough to properly celebrate a body of work like this. And the new songs from "PARADISE IF YOU CAN STAND IT" are far too significant not to bring to the stage. The lo-fi trash-punk of Bonaparte's earliest records has been built out with added layers, in production (largely alongside British avant-garde electronic artist HELiX) and in the songwriting itself.

The world certainly hasn't gotten any simpler since 2006. Tracks like "EVERYBODY PRESiDENT," loosely riffing on Zoe Leonard's poem "I Want A Dyke For President," and the corrosive "BRAiN ROT" mirror the social chaos we find ourselves in 2026. "OBEY (THERE iS STiLL A RiOT GOiNG ON)" is just as furious, though here the principle of hope still holds, as a multigenerational choir concludes "everything will be okay." Jundt speaks across generations again on "i LOVE YOU (MORE LATER)," dedicated in equal measure to his parents and his daughters: "Let the echo chamber bleed - from here into eternity."

The reconciliation and hope Bonaparte allows for and tends to, amid violence and all that noise, make "PARADISE IF YOU CAN STAND IT" a singular document of an artist grown wiser. Separation and grief don't cancel out love and vitality - they depend on each other. Ultimately, the album is a record of searching for and finding a home. To arrive, you have to let go.

And what better place to let go than in step with Bonaparte's wild, hedonistic party circus, finally back to gently terrorize our cities?

Underoath reinvents the balance between chaos and harmony with each successive release. Their compositions, conjured from creative tension, become iconoclastic anthems. Even when the band almost combusts, the crackling energy coalesces into something deeply resonant for millions.

Each time they have a chance to do something safe, Underoath challenges themselves instead, with integrity and attitude. Their pair of gold albums and three Grammy nominations stand in stark defiance of the idea of commercial compromise. The Underoath catalog weaponizes noise, aggression, and ambiance as skillfully as melody.

This year the band celebrates 20 years of their album Define The Great Line. Coming on the heels of 2004’s They’re Only Chasing Safety, Define The Great Line saw Underoath pivoting towards a more aggressive sound. The record’s unconventional – and, at times, jarring – intensity served as a stark contrast to the pop-leaning trends that were taking over heavy music at the time.

Featuring fan favorites like “Writing On The Walls”, “In Regards To Myself”, and “You’re Ever So Inviting”, Define The Great Line defied expectations when it debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard 200. It is widely regarded as one of the definitive heavy records of the early 2000s, solidifying Underoath’s legacy as one most influential bands of the genre.

The heart of their sound, which delivers naked vulnerability with thrilling force and cinematic lushness, can be heard in generations of bands who’ve pursued their trailblazing spirit. But Underoath refuses to sit still. Walking an artistic tightrope between immersive access and isolationist otherness, Underoath owns the space between huge choruses and forward-thinking heaviness, both on record and onstage.

Underoath reinvents the balance between chaos and harmony with each successive release. Their compositions, conjured from creative tension, become iconoclastic anthems. Even when the band almost combusts, the crackling energy coalesces into something deeply resonant for millions.

Each time they have a chance to do something safe, Underoath challenges themselves instead, with integrity and attitude. Their pair of gold albums and three Grammy nominations stand in stark defiance of the idea of commercial compromise. The Underoath catalog weaponizes noise, aggression, and ambiance as skillfully as melody.

They're Only Chasing Safety is the fourth studio album by American melodic hardcore band Underoath. It was released on June 15, 2004, through Solid State Records. Following the release of their third studio album, The Changing of Times (2002), half of the band's members were replaced. After finalizing the line-up with vocalist Spencer Chamberlain, the band recorded They're Only Chasing Safety with producer James Paul Wisner (Dashboard Confessional, Further Seems Forever, Paramore). In the heavy and punk music scene, the album is considered a watershed moment. The blend of heavy metal and hardcore influences with a strong pop/punk sensibility spawned a new branch of heavy music. The sound eventually became synonymous with the screamo scene of the mid-2000s. The record went gold in 2011.

Nine-time GRAMMY® winner Anderson .Paak and GRAMMY®-nominated rapper Cordae have been operating on the same wavelength for years. What started as pure chemical reaction on 2019’s “RNP” slowly turned into one of hip-hop’s most natural, low-ego partnerships, fueled by back-and-forth gems like “Two Tens” and “Summer Drop” and a series of dynamic TV performances that felt more like two best friends hanging out than a polished routine. On their debut collaborative album, Heavy Is The Crown, that organic bond gets the full-length treatment it’s always deserved.

At its core, the project is a tightrope walk between serious real-life stakes and uncompromising fun. The title isn't just bravado—it speaks directly to the shared weight both artists carry as the primary providers and anchors for their families. But instead of letting that pressure crush the vibe, .Paak and Cordae lean into each other. Meeting as total equals, .Paak’s elastic, soul-drenched musicality anchors Cordae’s razor-sharp lyricism, allowing both to unpack the heavy reality of success and family responsibility without ever losing their spark.

That balance is what makes the album tick. To drive the point home, the album art pays homage to the cult comedy Step Brothers—a nod to the silly, irreverent friendship that birthed the music in the first place. Heavy Is The Crown doesn't feel like a forced corporate crossover or a calculated career move. It’s a record about brotherhood, family, and what happens when two masters of their craft step into the studio simply because nobody makes them laugh, rap, or create quite like the other.

Nine-time GRAMMY® winner Anderson .Paak and GRAMMY®-nominated rapper Cordae have been operating on the same wavelength for years. What started as pure chemical reaction on 2019’s “RNP” slowly turned into one of hip-hop’s most natural, low-ego partnerships, fueled by back-and-forth gems like “Two Tens” and “Summer Drop” and a series of dynamic TV performances that felt more like two best friends hanging out than a polished routine. On their debut collaborative album, Heavy Is The Crown, that organic bond gets the full-length treatment it’s always deserved.

At its core, the project is a tightrope walk between serious real-life stakes and uncompromising fun. The title isn't just bravado—it speaks directly to the shared weight both artists carry as the primary providers and anchors for their families. But instead of letting that pressure crush the vibe, .Paak and Cordae lean into each other. Meeting as total equals, .Paak’s elastic, soul-drenched musicality anchors Cordae’s razor-sharp lyricism, allowing both to unpack the heavy reality of success and family responsibility without ever losing their spark.

That balance is what makes the album tick. To drive the point home, the album art pays homage to the cult comedy Step Brothers—a nod to the silly, irreverent friendship that birthed the music in the first place. Heavy Is The Crown doesn't feel like a forced corporate crossover or a calculated career move. It’s a record about brotherhood, family, and what happens when two masters of their craft step into the studio simply because nobody makes them laugh, rap, or create quite like the other.

Pablo Volt and J.G.G. make dub-folktronica the unpolished way: guitar, horns, drums and synths, recorded loose, drenched in echoes and tape saturation. They met in Barcelona over a shared love of experimental beers and even more experimental sessions, determined to see how far their musical chemistry could take them. "Mordida", their 2023 tape, spent months on repeat at the Pingipung office. Now comes the debut LP: Aqui me quedo. It's a record built on the gap between two childhoods. Pablo Volt (aka Pope, as producer) grew up in Mendoza, Argentina; Jordi Gege aka J.G.G. in a suburb of Barcelona. What they share is a language and a curiosity about each other's memories and musical roots - the studio is where they embrace their different origins in improvisations. A ditch from Pablo's childhood becomes "Zanjon". A mountain Jordi used to roam becomes "Emisora". An ice cream shop, a Sunday market, a football club: small doors into a past the other never lived, but somehow recognises. Aqui me quedo, "I'm staying here", is also the name of the Barcelona bar where they toast after a good session. Two friends, tracing their way back through the past, decide the present is where they'd rather be. Handmade, melodic, unashamed of a smile as they greet from the LP sleeve: this is the spirit in which Pingipung was founded 24 years ago and these two guys, muy simpatico, are living proof of it.

No Home is the new album by Lane Hartley, releasing October 23rd 2026 on Royal Oakie Records. Produced in collaboration with David Hartley of The War On Drugs & Adam McDaniel (Animal Collective, Angel Olsen, Geologist), the album was recorded at Drop of Sun Studios in Asheville and features contributions from North Carolina’s tight knit music community–including Mary Lattimore, Seth Kaufman of Floating Action & Dream Sitch, David Hartley, Jack Victor Johnson, and more.

After recording his debut album Naming Horses, Lane left Los Angeles and returned home to the Carolinas, eventually landing in Asheville. It wasn’t too long until the songs started flowing and Lane found himself reaching out to Adam McDaniel at Drop of Sun Studios–a vaunted space that’s been at the heart of indie-rock the past few years, bringing to life recent albums from MJ Lenderman, Wednesday, Fust, and more. McDaniel introduced Lane to David Hartley, and what originally started with discussions to record one song quickly turned into a plan to track a whole album live with a six piece band. Once in the studio, co-producer McDaniel encouraged the group to lean on intuition–“All of the players on this record really brought it to life in such a cosmic way. They instilled so much childlike wonder and fun into the making of the album. It inspired me to keep going” says Lane.


Lyrically the album is a collection of vignettes about people who’ve become alienated from their deepest desires of connection, belonging, intimacy, and autonomy–inspired both by Lane’s own life and the lives of people he’s loved. The unique character of the album emerged when Lane made the decision to pair the dark lyrical content with bright & lush arrangements, inspired by Gene Clark’s No Other, Neil Young’s After the Gold Rush, and Amen Dunes’ Love. In Lane’s words, “The content of the songs got way darker, and my reaction was to make the songs catchier, and to lean harder into the music that influenced me. I wanted each song to feel like a room in a haunted house, with a beautiful garden growing outside”.

Album opener “I Am Not Ashamed” was inspired by the anti-memoir of actress Barbara Peyton, a 1950’s Hollywood starlet who met an untimely end; “It’s about knowing that whatever you’ve done to survive, you still deserve love” says Lane. “Mother” pairs lyrics about ancestral trauma with the sunshine-pop influence of Colin Blunstone, featuring backing vocals from Lane’s sister Barrett Hartley. “It's about coming to terms with the fact that the people meant to protect us are dealing with their own trauma…”

Meanwhile, “All Of This Is Yours” and “Tone Poem” form the spiritual center of the album, an attempt to transmute anger & pain to bittersweet acceptance in the wake of a breakup. “I feel like on the surface this is essentially a breakup album, a lot of these songs are about mourning the end of a relationship and reflecting on what went down. I was falling in love and getting my heart broken, then waking up and driving across the country and doing it all over again.” “Love Is Not A Song” was inspired by Margo Guryan’s Love Songs, pairing bright piano with playful lyrics about an old man who’s been beaten down by life but still believes his greatest love is yet to come. Last but not least, title track “No Home” sums up the album’s key theme of alienation, “It all goes back to this feeling of wanting to belong to someone or somewhere, wanting to belong in your own body.”

Trixie Whitley returns with 'Folded Time', her first full-length album in seven years and one of her most adventurous and rhythmically driven records to date. Written largely at the kitchen table of her Brooklyn apartment and recorded between Brussels, New York and Montréal, the nine-track album finds Whitley moving freely between rock, soul, R&B and more experimental territory.

Rhythm sits at the heart of 'Folded Time'. Whitley plays drums, bass, guitar and piano herself, with her love of polyrhythms running throughout the record. Heavy, slow-moving drums turn opener 'Carry' into a mantra, 'Fascinating and Fun' grew out of studio improvisation, while on 'Carnaval' Whitley and Cem Misirlioglu face each other behind two drum kits for what she calls a "drum rave". Her unmistakable voice remains at the centre, moving just as easily between restraint and raw power.

Across the album, Whitley looks at motherhood, womanhood, heartbreak, desire and forgiveness, and at how the past continues to shape who we become. It is a record about taking stock without standing still: instinctive and physical, but full of detail.