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The second chapter of this young Danish talent's Spectrums, with more post-bass techno hybrids, and inspired by the early 90s sounds of Belgian labels like R&S and Buzz.

3024 welcomes a bright young lad from Denmark to the label by the name of Erosion Flow. These three vibrant little nuggets of funk are the introduction to his ambitious Spectrums series. Artwork by Erosie (no relation)

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.

Water can retain or wash away memory; flowing or freezing. It gives life and shapes earth, while frozen imprints of an ancient past are waiting to melt – back into sound or fluid motion, or simply to dissipate and disappear. For their split release, Yoichi Kamimura and Olli Aarni offer two distinct reinterpretations of a performance recorded live at the Temppeliaukio Kirkko – a church in Helsinki built directly into solid rock and bathed in natural light – meditating on glacial landscapes and water cycles, using shared field recordings that bifurcate into two sonic visions of “ice journey”.

Yoichi Kamimura’s extensive recordings formed the bedrock of the original performance, notably from time spent on Suomenlinna Island just outside Helsinki in 2021, aiming to capture the remnants of the glacial movements that formed the area’s geology. Elsewhere, the voices of ringed seals, underground waterways of Kyoto, and icy rivers in Lapland from Kamimura’s library float in as well. “The small, charming, and gentle islands floating in the Baltic Sea—some with little cottages and restaurants—reminded me of the drifting ice in the Sea of Okhotsk between Japan and Russia,” describes Kamimura. Fragments of a Christmas choir creep in too, recorded at the church on Suomenlinna Island. Titled Kōri no ryokō , Kaimimura’s reinterpretation of the performance emphasises a shared future across all icy sea regions of the world: thawing ancient memories and the threat of disappearing entirely.

On Jäämatkailu, Olli Aarni presents his own expansive reworking of the same source material, heavily processed alongside his own field recordings from Vantaanjoki river and Suontee lake in Finland. “I was thinking about the processes of erosion, water carving rock, the prehistoric glaciers over the landscape in my own environment,” explains Aarni. The soundscape hums with both intimate details and macrocosmic flow, and a submersible bass rumble hinting at an iceberg far below the tip, morphing at time scales beyond human comprehension.

Side A is composed by Yoichi Kamimura using field recordings of drift ice (Shiretoko, Hokkaido, 2019–2022), the Lake Biwa Canal (Kyoto, 2020), the Therme Vals baths (Vals, 2017), spring water (a fountain next to Saint Benedict Chapel, 2017), a Christmas choir (Suomenlinna Church, Helsinki, 2021), ice in the Juutuanjoki River (Inari, 2021), and recordings from Yoichi’s and Olli’s concert (Temppeliaukion kirkko, Helsinki, 2021), KORG iPolysix, and KORG minilogue xd.

Side B is composed by Olli Aarni using the aforementioned sounds + field recordings of the river Vantaanjoki and the lake Suontee, sampled sounds, and a computer.

A record born of insurmountable joy and simultaneous profound loss; World Maker marks a time of great change for Psychonaut, both personally and musically, as the band burn away the philosophical narrative complexities of previous offerings with a searing, panoramic clarity that implores us to savour the beauty of the now as a means of leaving a legacy for the future. The traditional, three-piece line up of Belgian, psychedelic post-metal collective Psychonaut has long belied the compositional prowess, captivating narrative depth and crushing live presence of a band now operating at the forefront of forward-thinking, contemporary heavy music. Having sent a shockwave through the post-metal and prog scenes with their three times repressed Pelagic Records debut Unfold The God Man in 2020 before following it up with the transformative metaphysical complexities of 2022's Violate Consensus Reality, Psychonaut have played prestigious Belgian open-air festivals like Alcatraz, Rock Herk and Boomtown Festival as well as boutique events such as Soulcrusher, Roadburn Redux and A Colossal Weekend whilst sharing stages across Europe with the likes of Amenra, Brutus and Pelagic labelmates The Ocean and PG.Lost. The seed of World Maker took shape just as the campaign for Violate Consensus Reality came to a close, with the news that guitarist/vocalist Stefan De Graef was to become a father. This tilting of life's axis led De Graef, like most fathers-to-be, to re-assess what was really important. As such, the music he was inspired to write felt free of the band's previous philosophical and spiritual foundations and instead took the form of life lessons for his unborn son, a legacy of love in case something were ever to happen. This hopeful euphoria shines keenly throughout World Maker as an uncharacteristically optimistic warmth; from the reverberating Rhodes organ on the titular opening track and the meandering, free-jazz inspired guitar solo that introduces `Everything Else is Just The Weather' to elements of world music, electronica and the otherworldly voice of Dutch multi-instrumentalist and old friend Anthe Huybrechts (Anthe/Helion Creek) most notably on tracks like `Origins' which also features tabla, a pair of indian hand drums, as its propulsive heartbeat. Whilst Psychonaut's giant riffs, punishing polyrhythms and guttural vocal rage are more resplendent than ever, there is a wider dynamic spectrum to World Maker that sees the band proudly exploring their more delicate, intimate extremes as well as their most aggressive and abrasive. Not long after the birth of De Graef's son came the devastating news that both his own father and Psychonaut bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels' father had been diagnosed with advanced cancers. Living day-to-day and torn between joy and grief, the band found themselves shedding the grand scope and world-shattering agenda of Violate Consensus Reality to focus on the here and now. Lead single `Endless Currents', the first full track on the album, explodes in a barrage of staccato guitar tapping but mellows to let the powerful, newly pared back lyrics ring out as a call to embrace the flow and follow joy. The song's final few words `Lead the way. / Soar. / Everlong.' double as both a greeting and a goodbye as the trio build their formidable post-metal might to a thunderous breaking point. Similarly, the pulsing, propellant `Stargazer', named so for De Graef's son being born in stargazer position, pairs delicate guitar motifs and folk-inflected optimism with huge and sprawling breakdowns as some of the band's most genre-pushing work to date; asking difficult but important questions of what happens next. It is `And You Came With Searing Light' though that most immediately exemplifies Psychonaut's redirected ambition on World Maker, as euphoria collides with blinding fury. The first track written for the album, `_Searing Light' is easily the most complex and initially wouldn't sound out of place on Violate Consensus Reality. Originally meant to be the new album's opening track; the decision to defer its impact, not to mention its compositional and dynamic gravity, speaks of a fundamental change to the band's very core. The words "Discover the world with wide eyes" recurring throughout speak as much to those having lost a part of their world as they do to those seeing it for the first time. Amidst such turbulent times, the band found strength and support within their Post-Metal community. The album was recorded and produced by the band alongside their longtime collaborator and close friend Chiaran Verheyden (Hippotraktor) with help and advice from Psychonaut's live engineer Victor, who will no doubt make this album sound just as awesome on stage. Even the artwork for World Maker was a family affair, being designed by close friend Sam Coussens of Belgian cosmic sludge metallers Pothamus. In the face of life's soaring highs and desolate lows, World Maker is direct and brave without sacrificing any of Psychonaut's raw power, creative innovation or inimitable musical depth. Where their previous full-length offerings have charted grand introspective courses through time and space, World Maker is breathtaking in its uncompromising clarity: a father singing to his newborn son as a son bids his own father farewell. FOR FANS OF Mastodon, Russian Circles, Tool, Gojira, The Ocean, Pelican, Hypno5e, Cult Of Luna, Amenra

Gradually, the latest album by Julien Mier, is a sonic journey that delves into the transitions of life, identity, and the blurred boundaries between art and personal growth. With a trilingual brain, Mier reflects on how language shifts have shaped his sense of self throughout his life and the music that he writes. Gradually is his exploration of shapelessness—an urge to break free from rigid musical genres and get closer to his most fundamental expression. The album is composed of nine tracks, each representing a distinct cultural and linguistic influence, all tied together by the theme of gradual evolution.

The first section, Ciel, Soleil, and Espace (French for Sky, Sun, and Space), draws on Mier’s French heritage, evoking the feeling of childhood memories bathed in a warm, nostalgic glow. This fluid, atmospheric section mirrors the soft, ever-changing air, symbolising a time of pure, untainted intention. It feels like a hazy, sepia-toned dream, as fleeting and elusive as the scent of an old friend. The gentle flow of the music mirrors the flow of wind, effortlessly shifting from one element to the next, a reflection of the innocence and clarity of youth.

The second section, Steen, Zee, and Zand (Dutch for Stone, Sea, and Sand), channels the influence of Mier’s childhood in a small Dutch dune village. These tracks are grounded in the hard-edged textures of electronic dance music, a genre that introduced him to a world of rhythm and movement. With a sonic palette of blues, greys, and more defined shapes, this section captures the solid, enduring forces of nature—earth, water, and stone. It’s a sonic landscape rooted in stability, a foundation from which everything can grow. The tracks build from the fluidity of the first section into more structured, rhythmic territories, mirroring the natural transition from childhood innocence to the discovery of deeper, more grounded musical influences.

The final section, Scrap (a collaborative track with the Japanese producer Daisuke Tanabe), Soil, and Spark, dives into the exploration of the world beyond familiar borders. Mier’s relocation from the Netherlands to Australia in 2016 is reflected in these pieces, which grapple with the contrast and complexity of different cultures and environments. These tracks are tinged with rust-red hues and a sense of eroded beauty, evoking a more fragmented, distorted view of the world. The music here is marked by tension, conflict, and the erosion of once-solid forms—symbolic of the digital and ecological storms that shape our modern existence. The closing piece, Spark, signals a new beginning, a hopeful initiation into the cycle of renewal.

The album artwork for Gradually is a conclusive visual representation of this journey, captured in the final frame of an analog film roll that began in the Netherlands and concluded with an image of the streets of Sydney, Australia—a perfect metaphor for the album’s narrative of gradual transition and discovery.

A record born of insurmountable joy and simultaneous profound loss; World Maker marks a time of great change for Psychonaut, both personally and musically, as the band burn away the philosophical narrative complexities of previous offerings with a searing, panoramic clarity that implores us to savour the beauty of the now as a means of leaving a legacy for the future. The traditional, three-piece line up of Belgian, psychedelic post-metal collective Psychonaut has long belied the compositional prowess, captivating narrative depth and crushing live presence of a band now operating at the forefront of forward-thinking, contemporary heavy music. Having sent a shockwave through the post-metal and prog scenes with their three times repressed Pelagic Records debut Unfold The God Man in 2020 before following it up with the transformative metaphysical complexities of 2022's Violate Consensus Reality, Psychonaut have played prestigious Belgian open-air festivals like Alcatraz, Rock Herk and Boomtown Festival as well as boutique events such as Soulcrusher, Roadburn Redux and A Colossal Weekend whilst sharing stages across Europe with the likes of Amenra, Brutus and Pelagic labelmates The Ocean and PG.Lost. The seed of World Maker took shape just as the campaign for Violate Consensus Reality came to a close, with the news that guitarist/vocalist Stefan De Graef was to become a father. This tilting of life's axis led De Graef, like most fathers-to-be, to re-assess what was really important. As such, the music he was inspired to write felt free of the band's previous philosophical and spiritual foundations and instead took the form of life lessons for his unborn son, a legacy of love in case something were ever to happen. This hopeful euphoria shines keenly throughout World Maker as an uncharacteristically optimistic warmth; from the reverberating Rhodes organ on the titular opening track and the meandering, free-jazz inspired guitar solo that introduces `Everything Else is Just The Weather' to elements of world music, electronica and the otherworldly voice of Dutch multi-instrumentalist and old friend Anthe Huybrechts (Anthe/Helion Creek) most notably on tracks like `Origins' which also features tabla, a pair of indian hand drums, as its propulsive heartbeat. Whilst Psychonaut's giant riffs, punishing polyrhythms and guttural vocal rage are more resplendent than ever, there is a wider dynamic spectrum to World Maker that sees the band proudly exploring their more delicate, intimate extremes as well as their most aggressive and abrasive. Not long after the birth of De Graef's son came the devastating news that both his own father and Psychonaut bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels' father had been diagnosed with advanced cancers. Living day-to-day and torn between joy and grief, the band found themselves shedding the grand scope and world-shattering agenda of Violate Consensus Reality to focus on the here and now. Lead single `Endless Currents', the first full track on the album, explodes in a barrage of staccato guitar tapping but mellows to let the powerful, newly pared back lyrics ring out as a call to embrace the flow and follow joy. The song's final few words `Lead the way. / Soar. / Everlong.' double as both a greeting and a goodbye as the trio build their formidable post-metal might to a thunderous breaking point. Similarly, the pulsing, propellant `Stargazer', named so for De Graef's son being born in stargazer position, pairs delicate guitar motifs and folk-inflected optimism with huge and sprawling breakdowns as some of the band's most genre-pushing work to date; asking difficult but important questions of what happens next. It is `And You Came With Searing Light' though that most immediately exemplifies Psychonaut's redirected ambition on World Maker, as euphoria collides with blinding fury. The first track written for the album, `_Searing Light' is easily the most complex and initially wouldn't sound out of place on Violate Consensus Reality. Originally meant to be the new album's opening track; the decision to defer its impact, not to mention its compositional and dynamic gravity, speaks of a fundamental change to the band's very core. The words "Discover the world with wide eyes" recurring throughout speak as much to those having lost a part of their world as they do to those seeing it for the first time. Amidst such turbulent times, the band found strength and support within their Post-Metal community. The album was recorded and produced by the band alongside their longtime collaborator and close friend Chiaran Verheyden (Hippotraktor) with help and advice from Psychonaut's live engineer Victor, who will no doubt make this album sound just as awesome on stage. Even the artwork for World Maker was a family affair, being designed by close friend Sam Coussens of Belgian cosmic sludge metallers Pothamus. In the face of life's soaring highs and desolate lows, World Maker is direct and brave without sacrificing any of Psychonaut's raw power, creative innovation or inimitable musical depth. Where their previous full-length offerings have charted grand introspective courses through time and space, World Maker is breathtaking in its uncompromising clarity: a father singing to his newborn son as a son bids his own father farewell. FOR FANS OF Mastodon, Russian Circles, Tool, Gojira, The Ocean, Pelican, Hypno5e, Cult Of Luna, Amenra

A hill repeating its own name.

Ben Beinn — mountain mountain — an imagined summit, recursive and unstable.

Poole’s new album Ben Beinn follows 2024’s In a River Shadow, and deepens his exploration of environment, voice, and abstraction. If the previous record moved with flowing water and submerged hymns, Ben Beinn climbs into elemental instability: passing storms, coded skies, and sodden ground.

Across ten tracks, Poole entangles the Celtic New Age sound world — traditional instrumentation (flute, low whistle, bagpipe, piano, strings) — with synthesis, environmental recordings, and abstracted voice. The sound palette is tactile — marked by microtonal harmony, swelling dissonance, and a breathy naïvety. Voices in Gaelic, Norwegian, and English surface and dissolve, stretched beyond recognition — more weather than word.

The album’s title refers to a tautological hill — Ben Beinn, or “mountain mountain” — a recursive site where motifs surface, fracture, and re-emerge. On 365 Days of Rain, rainfall data becomes a rhythmic lattice that slips from metrical order. 1000 opens the record in cinematic emergence: mountain icicles and frozen streams swell into strings and breathy melodic weight. Pulling from the connective folktales of hill and mountain trolls — “Dance for a thousand years,” Poole writes, “for jeg har sovet tidlig så lenge.”

Recorded in Scotland between 2024–2025, Ben Beinn draws from environmental recordings of frozen hill passes, storm drains, and peat bogs using contact mics and hydrophones. Rather than simply reflecting place, these recordings press against it — layering the sonic materiality of landscape with synthesis and song. An inflection point between fabrication — folk music as performed identity, a carrier of story — and its obfuscation through digital networks, where tradition is refracted into plural forms.

Musical reference points include the emotionally saturated textures of Inoyama Land, the folk-electronic hybrids of Eli Storbekken, the hyperrealist collage practices of Noah Creshevsky, and the disquieting sonic simulations of James Ferraro. While Ferraro captures the uncanny surfaces of networked life, Ben Beinn turns inward — toward a located listening, shaped by weather, memory, and terrain.

The second in a triptych that began with In a River Shadow, Ben Beinn continues Poole’s excavation of environmental and folk material through contemporary methods. If the first record submerged itself in flowing water and submerged hymns, this one is shaped by the slow pressures of land and sky — a music of erosion, recurrence, and elemental presence.

In a time where everyone from Whitney Houston to Frank Zappa have been re-created in hologram form, where Grimes recently suggested in an interview that “we were at the end of human art”; there could scarcely be a better time for genre-shifting Leeds-based six-piece Team Picture to bring forth the thrillingly expansive synth-pop opus of their debut album The Menace of Mechanical Music.

Inspired by an early 20th century essay under the same name by American marching band leader John Philip Sousa, Team Picture take a look at the automation of creativity on this, their first record with a fully settled line up. Themes centre around the value of creative identity in an automated age, the increasingly disposable nature of art and where that leaves its creators. At twelve songs split into a three-part suite; The Menace of Mechanical Music is emphatically maximalist.

Tracks like the breathy, twinkling Flowerpots, Electric Beds and Handsome Machines’ Icarus-like striving for the sun are an antidote to a music world awash with digital production manipulation and songs written to algorithm. In debating the loosening of the human grip on creativity, Team Picture have poured every last drop of emotion into the recording process.

The group’s now trademark three-way vocal delivery and blurring of textures takes on new structure and purpose. They’ve always had a self-awareness to themselves, too. Initially grouped in with the guitar psych crowd, thanks to their fledgling repeato-rock, they were quick to disassociate themselves from that on 2018's mini-album Recital. With The Menace of Mechanical Music, they expand their sound further still, pirouetting from the likes of Sleeptype Auction – which glimmers like a late 80’s 4AD artefact – through various FX-laden dreamscapes, to the squelchy post-punk of closer Quit Reading. Yet the group were as much influenced by the work of the Early Netherlandish painter Hieronymus Bosch, and his triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights, as they were music touchstones ranging from Kate Bush, Cass McCombs and The Cure.

It’s Sousa words that resonate most deeply within the record however: “The fears of Sousa echo the fears of today's musician,” says Lewis of the late band leader’s 1907 text. “The re-appropriation of funds and support that the artist needs to survive, the gradual erosion of musicianship and self-improvement, that art will become disposable, and that our cultural identity will disappear.”

Recorded with producer Matt Peel (W.H Lung, Eagulls), half the group were unemployed during the session and a daily routine would see them undertake universal credit meetings and job interviews in the morning, before heading to the studio to work into the night. “It was an anxious process but an enjoyable one” says the band’s guitarist Josh Lewis. Indeed, beyond the increasingly golden gated idea of ‘making it’ as an artist, this new album is simply about surviving as one.
Sousa’s vision of a society that had deferred to automation, where babies were rocked to sleep by wheels and pulleys, and people no longer played piano with their own hands. Well over 100 years later and on the precipice of a technological shift never seen before, The Menace of Mechanical Music is the most human response that Team Picture could have given.

Caught somewhere between environmental sound studies and surrealist sonic architecture, SUGAI KEN helps mark the 30th release of Field Records with an ambitious new album. Commissioned by the Dutch Embassy in Tokyo, Tone River is the product of a year’s intensive work between artist and label, created in part to examine the relationship between Japan and the Netherlands with regard to water management.

While its doors to the Western world were closed during the 17th and 18th centuries, Japan kept abreast of Western science via a Dutch trade post in the bay of Nagasaki. When the country changed from a feudal society to a modern democracy through the turn of the 19th century, Dutch engineers lent their expertise to large-scale water management projects. One of the most prestigious projects of the time was the Tone River, which stretches 322 kilometers across Honshu, Japan’s largest island.

For this project, SUGAI KEN travelled to three points across the Tone River and used regular, binaural and underwater microphones to record environmental sounds, seeking to express the change in landscape of the river in its flow into the Pacific Ocean. On Tone River, these varied recordings are interspersed and juxtaposed with Ken’s distinctive take on synthesis, where raw and precisely sculpted textures and tones interact in stark, neutral space.

On this conceptually rigorous, yet beguiling and free-flowing record, SUGAI KEN glides between the elemental and hyper-synthetic in a flexible exploration of sound and story