Suche:exist

Rhythmus ist die erste Sprache. Ein Puls, der irgendwo beginnt - in einer Maschine, in Händen, als Gedanke. MINCKA existiert in dem kreativen Prozess, der sich daraus entwickelt: ein Dialog zwischen Struktur und Chaos. Entstanden als Idee zwischen einem Schlagzeuger und einem Produzenten, lädt MINCKA heute Produzentinnen, Musikerinnen und Kreative gleichermaßen dazu ein, dem Projekt immer neue Formen zu geben - als etwas, das sich stetig weiterentwickelt.Alles beginnt als Skizze: ein Fragment oder eine Kadenz, die scheinbar ins Leere führt - bis das Live-Schlagzeug übernimmt und der Groove die Richtung vorgibt. Mal festgezurrt in unerbittlichen Beats, mal verträumt und schwer greifbar. Wie der Soundtrack zu einem Fiebertraum, mit Echos von Mo' Wax ebenso wie von International Anthem.Von dort aus öffnet sich ein Raum, in dem Musiker frei auf das reagieren, was bereits existiert. Klänge werden zerschnitten und neu zusammengesetzt, wie Filmszenen, die ihre Bedeutung erst im Schnitt erhalten. Eine passende Analogie für den Hintergrund des bosnisch-niederländischen Schlagzeugers Sergej Kreso, der zugleich ein vielfach ausgezeichneter Dokumentarfilmer ist. Gemeinsam mit dem niederländischen Produzenten Subp Yao initiierte er MINCKA. Doch eines wird durch diesen Ansatz schnell klar: MINCKA ist kein Duo.Statt einer einzelnen Vision wurden unterschiedliche Musikerinnen und Kollaborateurinnen (aus Seattle, Peking, Maastricht, Essex, Amsterdam, Heerlen und Uden) eingeladen, mit der Musik in einen Dialog zu treten. Ihre Antworten und klanglichen Abzweigungen prägten den Sound von Beginn an. Kollaboration ist das Wesen von MINCKA. Und ebenso der Kontrast: Mensch und Maschine. Organisch und elektronisch. Freie Improvisation und meticulousche Präzision. Wertschätzung für Low-End-Theorien.Es ist ein Sound im permanenten Wandel, der sich weigert, in eine Schublade gesteckt zu werden. Stattdessen tritt er die Schublade ein, zerreißt die Überreste und baut aus dem, was bleibt, eine vollkommen neue Collage.Selbst jetzt, da die Musik veröffentlicht wird, ist MINCKA nicht abgeschlossen. Der Dialog geht weiter und lädt jeden ein, MINCKA mitzugestalten, indem über Stems der eigenen Musik Produzentinnen und Musiker*innen zur Verfügung gestellt werden. Was du hörst, war es nicht. Was es werden wird, ist noch offen. Diese Veröffentlichung ist erst der Anfang._ MINCKA

Auf insgesamt 100 Stück limitiert. Rhythmus ist die erste Sprache. Ein Puls, der irgendwo beginnt - in einer Maschine, in Händen, als Gedanke. MINCKA existiert in dem kreativen Prozess, der sich daraus entwickelt: ein Dialog zwischen Struktur und Chaos. Entstanden als Idee zwischen einem Schlagzeuger und einem Produzenten, lädt MINCKA heute Produzentinnen, Musikerinnen und Kreative gleichermaßen dazu ein, dem Projekt immer neue Formen zu geben - als etwas, das sich stetig weiterentwickelt.Alles beginnt als Skizze: ein Fragment oder eine Kadenz, die scheinbar ins Leere führt - bis das Live-Schlagzeug übernimmt und der Groove die Richtung vorgibt. Mal festgezurrt in unerbittlichen Beats, mal verträumt und schwer greifbar. Wie der Soundtrack zu einem Fiebertraum, mit Echos von Mo' Wax ebenso wie von International Anthem.Von dort aus öffnet sich ein Raum, in dem Musiker frei auf das reagieren, was bereits existiert. Klänge werden zerschnitten und neu zusammengesetzt, wie Filmszenen, die ihre Bedeutung erst im Schnitt erhalten. Eine passende Analogie für den Hintergrund des bosnisch-niederländischen Schlagzeugers Sergej Kreso, der zugleich ein vielfach ausgezeichneter Dokumentarfilmer ist. Gemeinsam mit dem niederländischen Produzenten Subp Yao initiierte er MINCKA. Doch eines wird durch diesen Ansatz schnell klar: MINCKA ist kein Duo.Statt einer einzelnen Vision wurden unterschiedliche Musikerinnen und Kollaborateurinnen (aus Seattle, Peking, Maastricht, Essex, Amsterdam, Heerlen und Uden) eingeladen, mit der Musik in einen Dialog zu treten. Ihre Antworten und klanglichen Abzweigungen prägten den Sound von Beginn an. Kollaboration ist das Wesen von MINCKA. Und ebenso der Kontrast: Mensch und Maschine. Organisch und elektronisch. Freie Improvisation und meticulousche Präzision. Wertschätzung für Low-End-Theorien.Es ist ein Sound im permanenten Wandel, der sich weigert, in eine Schublade gesteckt zu werden. Stattdessen tritt er die Schublade ein, zerreißt die Überreste und baut aus dem, was bleibt, eine vollkommen neue Collage.Selbst jetzt, da die Musik veröffentlicht wird, ist MINCKA nicht abgeschlossen. Der Dialog geht weiter und lädt jeden ein, MINCKA mitzugestalten, indem über der eigenen Musik Produzentinnen und Musiker*innen zur Verfügung gestellt werden. Was du hörst, war es nicht. Was es werden wird, ist noch offen. Diese Veröffentlichung ist erst der Anfang._ MINCKA

Preston duo White Flowers announce new album, Dreams For Somebody Else - due for release 1st May 2026 via The state51 Conspiracy.
White Flowers, the long-running collaboration between Joey Cobb and Katie Drew, exists within what they call “the realm” – a shared creative space, wherein time, rather than being a restrictive force, is fluid and boundless, and music exists as an endless conversation with their past and present selves. Adopting what the band describe as a “sketchbook” approach to writing, White Flowers is the product of a decade’s worth of recordings - snippets nestled away on hard drives, only to truly make sense years later.
On Dreams For Somebody Else, the band expand upon the dark-hued dream pop of their debut, channeling the catharsis of dance music via repetitive structures and “sad, euphoric sounds”. Working alongside LCD Soundsystem and Hot Chip’s Al Doyle on production, the album maps out a mosaic of soaring choruses that swirl around imposing arrays of synths, guitars, and percussion.
Through this new lens, the band explore themes of isolation, dissociation and identity - drawing inspiration from Annie Ernaux’s The Years. “Whilst recording the songs for ‘Dreams For Somebody Else’, we really connected with the concept of Annie Ernaux’s book, ‘The Years’ - a ‘collective autobiography’ pieced together from mismatched fragments from her past, conjuring the effect that she’s merely an observer of her own life. This concept merges into the White Flowers world, where time, rather than being restrictive, is fluid and boundless, with our music existing as an endless conversation with versions of ourselves at different stages of our lives.”
“The album has that same feeling of disassociating from your own life, because you’re just blending into everyone else”, the band explains. “There’s a sadness there, because it’s as if you’re looking back on things that happened to you, and they feel like they don’t belong to you anymore”. It’s the dull ache of nostalgia intertwined with a sense of wonder at what could lie ahead - the hopeful optimism and endless loss that defines the human experience. “It’s this idea of identity not being a fixed thing, but something that’s always changing. It’s a fluid thing, similar to time. Things aren’t really fixed, but rather in a constant state of change. It’s important to remember that we’re all going through that.”

2026 Repress

Anenon's tenor saxophone breathes an emotive contemplation on loss, meshed with sustained piano and field recordings. 'Moons Melt Milk Light' is a hyper-personal statement contained in a visceral beauty.

LA native Anenon returns with a highly anticipated new album 'Moons Melt Milk Light' on Tonal Union, bearing his most personal, expressive, and arresting works to date. Anenon is the ongoing solo studio and live project of Brian Allen Simon, whom since 2010 has released multiple albums and EPs to critical acclaim, including the highly revered 'Tongue' (2018) and 'Petrol' (2016).

'Moons Melt Milk Light' is direct, efficient, and unwavering in its immediacy. Anenon departs from the electronics of previous works, and embarks on a reductive, almost entirely acoustic approach consisting of piano, tenor saxophone, bass clarinet, and field recordings. All of the music was improvised with everything recorded as either a first or second take with no edits. Any layering happened fast and in the moment, and yet the sonic architecture of the whole feels both planned and refined.

"I feel a kinetic and messy honesty that doesn't exist in any of the other music I've ever made. There is also a sense of being settled, of calm. There is no faking it here."

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

More than half a century into its existence, heavy metal still prowls as a living force in the dark, and Vancouver's SPELL summon that spirit with defiant conviction on their fifth album, 'Wretched Heart'. Rejecting the safety of nostalgia, the band; Cam Mesmer, Al Lester, Gabriel Tenebrae and Jeff Black, step beyond retro homage into shadowy new terrain, where harmony guitars blaze like torches against the night and gothic atmospheres coil around songs pulsing with desperation, longing, and wild exaltation. Forged through the fire of the stage and shaped by trusted collaborators, this is SPELL at their most potent: dramatic, vulnerable, and unafraid of excess. From existential laments to bittersweet anthems that shimmer with both steel and sorrow, 'Wretched Heart' beats with a fiercely human pulse. In SPELL's hands, heavy metal is no museum relic but a darkly romantic covenant-restless, cathartic, and forever reaching beyond the veil.

More than half a century into its existence, heavy metal still prowls as a living force in the dark, and Vancouver's SPELL summon that spirit with defiant conviction on their fifth album, 'Wretched Heart'. Rejecting the safety of nostalgia, the band; Cam Mesmer, Al Lester, Gabriel Tenebrae and Jeff Black, step beyond retro homage into shadowy new terrain, where harmony guitars blaze like torches against the night and gothic atmospheres coil around songs pulsing with desperation, longing, and wild exaltation. Forged through the fire of the stage and shaped by trusted collaborators, this is SPELL at their most potent: dramatic, vulnerable, and unafraid of excess. From existential laments to bittersweet anthems that shimmer with both steel and sorrow, 'Wretched Heart' beats with a fiercely human pulse. In SPELL's hands, heavy metal is no museum relic but a darkly romantic covenant-restless, cathartic, and forever reaching beyond the veil.

More than half a century into its existence, heavy metal still prowls as a living force in the dark, and Vancouver's SPELL summon that spirit with defiant conviction on their fifth album, 'Wretched Heart'. Rejecting the safety of nostalgia, the band; Cam Mesmer, Al Lester, Gabriel Tenebrae and Jeff Black, step beyond retro homage into shadowy new terrain, where harmony guitars blaze like torches against the night and gothic atmospheres coil around songs pulsing with desperation, longing, and wild exaltation. Forged through the fire of the stage and shaped by trusted collaborators, this is SPELL at their most potent: dramatic, vulnerable, and unafraid of excess. From existential laments to bittersweet anthems that shimmer with both steel and sorrow, 'Wretched Heart' beats with a fiercely human pulse. In SPELL's hands, heavy metal is no museum relic but a darkly romantic covenant-restless, cathartic, and forever reaching beyond the veil.

There comes a point in every bands life when originality stops being a virtue and honesty takes the wheel. On their 11th long-playing record: Forgeries (72-84)-(16)- return to the impulse that first dragged them into loud rooms and bad ideas: the urge to steal what we love and make it semi-unrecognizable through devotion. We have partnered with Heavy Psych Sounds Records to release a collection of covers that function less as homage and more as a possession to be given away. The artworkrendered by the ever-amazing Maraldcompletes the ritualiconicunsettlingand unafraid. Weve always believed that a great cover is not mimicry but revelation. Its finding a song that's already lived inside you since youth and letting it crawl outbruised and changed. From the early 90s onward-(16)- have treated covers as translations rather than as replicasacts of tribute and emulationfiltered through distortionfatigueand lived experience. These are songs that taught us how to standhow to falland how to keep going. In our collective headthis album exists because these songs demanded it. Because they screamed copy meand we listened. In the endForgeries (72-84) stands as both a thank you note and a thefta reminder that all music worth a damn is borrowedbrokenand passed on between friends. The selections on Forgeries 72-84 span eras and attitudesunified not by genre but by necessity. Each track is a document of obsessionof influence absorbed and re-expressed without permission.

There comes a point in every bands life when originality stops being a virtue and honesty takes the wheel. On their 11th long-playing record: Forgeries (72-84)-(16)- return to the impulse that first dragged them into loud rooms and bad ideas: the urge to steal what we love and make it semi-unrecognizable through devotion. We have partnered with Heavy Psych Sounds Records to release a collection of covers that function less as homage and more as a possession to be given away. The artworkrendered by the ever-amazing Maraldcompletes the ritualiconicunsettlingand unafraid. Weve always believed that a great cover is not mimicry but revelation. Its finding a song that's already lived inside you since youth and letting it crawl outbruised and changed. From the early 90s onward-(16)- have treated covers as translations rather than as replicasacts of tribute and emulationfiltered through distortionfatigueand lived experience. These are songs that taught us how to standhow to falland how to keep going. In our collective headthis album exists because these songs demanded it. Because they screamed copy meand we listened. In the endForgeries (72-84) stands as both a thank you note and a thefta reminder that all music worth a damn is borrowedbrokenand passed on between friends. The selections on Forgeries 72-84 span eras and attitudesunified not by genre but by necessity. Each track is a document of obsessionof influence absorbed and re-expressed without permission.

Extremely Rotten Productions and M.N.B. Records resurrects the corpse of FUNEREAL and presents for the first time on vinyl the 1994 album “The Misery Season”.
From the remains of Chicago death metal demo legends, CONTAGION, rose the even gloomier and dark death metal band FUNEREAL and their sole album testaments to misery and heaviness that was created within their short 2 year existence and are perfectly encapsulated on this majestic recording. Complete with amazing cover art by Greek artist Dimitri Patelis.

The series, written and directed by Flo Van Deuren and Kato De Boeck, tells the story of Bibi and Ama, two lesbian girlfriends in their twenties.

Hoping to become a better version of themselves, they move in together at a flat in Brussels. Each in their own way, but under the same roof, they come to new insights: life has no manual, love even less and themselves even less so. The result is an intimate series full of humour and familiarity.

Musically the series is coloured by an exclusive soundtrack and homegrown songs: 7 female or non-binary artists from Belgium were asked to write a song. Lara Chedraoui & Patrix, Juicy, Miss Angel, Tessa Dixson, Oriana Ikoma, Ana Diaz, SPACEBABYMADCHA and Mick Lemaire crept into their musical pen. The series also features existing songs by artists such as Martha Da’ro, Aili, B1980 and Fatal Error to showcase a maximum of local musical talent.

Recorded Live at the Fleece, Bristol 17/4/2025 and featuring the return of original singer Boobs. Disorder are an English street punk band that formed in the Bristol area of England in 1980, and has existed with varying line-ups. They are aligned with politically charged punk bands. Disorder were part of the "protest punk" movement, and were one of the bands that spearheaded the Bristol punk scene in the early 1980s. The BBC DJ John Peel described their early singles as sounding like Triumph Bonneville motorbikes.

Certain paths necessitate and call for one singular long sequence in order to arrive at a fully formed conversation or reasoning. Nothing seems to broadcast it more clearly than the trajectory Brussels based Italo-Vietnamese artist Nguyễn Zen Mỹ embarked on during the last decade as Radio Hito.

After a string of highly cherished and sought out tape releases, Radio Hito’s new album ‘L’uso e gli attributi del cuore’, co-released by Maple Death & Meakusma, unfolds with devastating
clarity, a profound balance of depth, minimalism and emotional grounding. A ten-sequence song cycle for voice and MIDI soundfonts adapted from the 2021 book by French poet Claude
Royet-Journoud.

Written and recorded between January 2023 and August 2025, the cycle evolved through nearly 80 live performances from Galicia to Kazakhstan before arriving at its recorded form. Set to an Italian libretto adapted from Royet-Journoud’s text ‘L'usage et les attributs du cœur’ (POL, 2021), the work revisits the tradition of the 19th-century Lied — art song built on existing poetry— transposed into a radically economical contemporary setting: voice and Casio CTK workstations.

"I was interested by this incompleteness CRJ mentions - by the ‘suspension’ of meaning questioning readability and intelligibility. I ‘resisted’ to CRJ’s texts since I met him and got to know his work. … It seems to me that when playing the songs, I submit an object to be completed by the audience."

Radio Hito’s distinctive approach to setting poetry to music — spare arrangements, strophic repetition, and a voice suspended between recital, fm transmission and canzone — creates a language of its own, reaching new heights on ‘L’uso e gli attributi del cuore’, songs that are formally rigorous, emotionally restrained, and shaped by the discipline of sustained live performance, interlocking into a coherent cycle.

Rather than illustrating the poem, Radio Hito approaches it as a space of suspension. Royet-Journoud described poetry as a “profession of ignorance” where meaning remains incomplete; these songs extend that trembling state, allowing repetition, digital timbre, and restraint to hold the text open.

Often misread as minimal synth or romantic chanson, Radio Hito’s practice is rooted instead in the lineage of the art song and song cycle: open structures, close attention to language, and a live performance economy that pushes the voice at the heart of the stage. The choice of accessible keyboard workstations — light, portable, and embedded in contemporary popular culture — replaces the historical piano.

Radio Hito creates fantastical, mirage-like songs, intimate yet elusive. Her music is forlorn chanson for the digital age; bringing her haunting and beautiful vocalisations into conversation with MIDI soundfonts and humble-yet-deep casio compositions. Music that strides for simplicity, yet lands miraculously within an entire new universe, a uniqueness achieved from like-minded spirits such as Ghedalia Tazartès, Savina Yannatou & Lena Platonos, Dorothy Carter, cycles that trickle down into estuaries.

“Radio Hito's set is superb. Sitting on the altar steps with a synth, her fabulously expressive vocals colour sparse, pensive compositions.” The Wire

Deaf Center travel through quiet pathways and grand boulevards in their fourth studio album “Through Time”.

Since their last full-length LP, “Low Distance” (2019), the duo has gradually shifted towards a more long-form electroacoustic sound which perhaps makes for their most immersive listening experience so far. Otto A Totland’s piano travels in less frequent rhythms than before, yet is felt even more as a relief in the quieter moments that contrast with Erik K Skodvin’s deep atmospheric worlds. There’s a searching quality within the record which feels like slow movements on the way towards something meaningful, capturing a sense of both peace and awe.

The latter part of the album takes a different turn: fluctuating electronic rhythms over deep strings create an ecstatic yet haunting duality. It is the first time a guest musician appears on a Deaf Center record: British composer and musician Simon Goff joins with violin and viola in the finale, “Further”, a hypnotising piece submerged in layers of strings and drones.

The subject of time is an ambitious one, yet Deaf Center manage to balance the humble with the grand in great warmth as seconds become minutes, hours become days and time seemingly freezes as a still-life moment.

The new album by Mecánica Clásica, Una Teoría del Ritmo, unfolds across nine tracks as an intimate and organic rhythmic landscape. Rhythm is not something to be counted or measured, it's an odd power that shapes life and nature. Embracing rhythm is a wild experience rather than a technical concept.

The album emphasizes its strong subjectivity: rhythm exists deep within the self and at the core of perceived phenomena and listening itself transforms that kaleidoscopic perception.

Moving against cold conceptualism, Una Teoría del Ritmo embraces a truly warm and intense space, seeking a path where listeners can feel a special energy through hypnotic, melodic and percussive sound waves in a cosmic and naturalistic way.

Rave At Your Fictional Borders is not beyond borders. The band simply denies any notion thereof. Driven by a sense of community, it defines human existence as one bio-organism with planet Earth. Now comprising members Dave De Rose, Marius Mathiszik, and Salim Akki, this incarnation of Rave At Your Fictional Borders first released the 'Entanglement' and 'Utopia' tracks in March 2025. Analogue Nomadism is the project's first album release. Recorded in Morocco and then co-produced and mixed by Dan Nicholls, it is an album of dizzying, trance-inducing scope. Rave music stripped of all external signifiers. Repetition, noise, krautrock, avant-garde sensibilities. This is a search for a groove that both connects and interlocks. The soul of improvisation and exploration runs through all seven pieces on Analogue Nomadism. Genres are referenced and transcended. The open-ended is perpetually embraced.

It is neither night nor day, but there is a half-light all the time. What used to be disconcerting is now not alien anymore. The sky boasts a faint light. Certain shapes are laid out, but get changed through communal ritual. Analogue Nomadism is the music of a feeling of community. It builds and breaks down. It is accepting of the psychedelic standards of the groove. Transportative and vertiginous. Endless.

FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER: THE LONG-LOST RECORDINGS OF BIRMINGHAM ROOTS REGGAE PIONEERS NATRUS Mastered from the original tapes by Guy Davie at Electric Needle Mythology, the label founded by music writer, author and broadcaster Pete Paphides, is thrilled to announce the archival release of newly-discovered recordings by Birmingham reggae band Natrus. Comprising members of the same family – seven in total – Natrus were a ubiquitous presence of the live circuit within and beyond the West Midlands in the late 1970s. Used as an ad hoc “Wrecking Crew” by local producer and promoter Toney Owens, NATRUS frequently provided live accompaniment to visiting Jamaican artists such as Sugar Minott, Johnny Osbourne and Freddie McKay. With an age span ranging from 9 to 25, NATRUS’S live work had to be structured around the educational obligations of their younger members. But when they weren’t playing live, they would frequently hone their own compositions at Owens’ studio in Saltley, Birmingham.

During their collective lifetime, NATRUS released one very limited edition single Mash It, with a stellar guest vocal from deejay Ranking Glad(Stone). Featured alongside Mash It on this release are a selection of recordings previously thought lost by the group who laid them down. They were only discovered after Toney Owens’ alerted Needle Mythology’s Pete Paphides to the existence of some 60 quarter-inch reels featuring all the music recorded by Owens over a period of ten years or so. When Paphides finally tracked down NATRUS rhythm guitarist Owen Taylor, he was stunned to hear of their existence. After a meeting with Taylor and his siblings, Needle Mythology collaborated with NATRUS on the restoration and remastering of the tracks featured on this, their very belated debut album. As well as Mash It and its original flipside Come From Africa, highlights on ‘NATRUS’ include a superb version of Slim Smith’s The Time Has Come and the deep roots entreaties of Freedom Inna Babylon, both showcasing the soulful vocal of lead singer Fitzdonald “Fitz” English and the almost psychic sense of musical attunement that percolates right down the the formidable rhythm section of Beverley Stewart (bass) and Clinton Gordon (drums).

Just when you thought you had heard it all.... Evil Grave were an exceptionally unique underground rock band from Malta that shook the islands with uncompromising attitude and dark imagery. In the early 1970s they ruled the Maltese scene and were voted best band in national polls. Heavily influenced by Black Sabbath and early progressive rock with a traditional Maltese flavour, Evil Grave never released any material during their existence. Several low budget demos were recorded at the time but, over the following years, the name Evil Grave simply vanished into obscurity. Until now! During a recent vacation to the islands, label owner Lee Dorrian became aware of the band and has spent the past three years tracking down as much information about them as he possibly could. With the blessing of original guitarist/songwriter John E Zammit Pace, we are excited to release this ungodly artefact upon the work for the very first time. Death From Malta, gathers together all known existing material from the band, the sound quality of which is decidedly lo-fi but, if anything, this only adds to the mysterious vibe of this simply enigmatic band.

Piano-driven post-rock band We Stood Like Kings from Belgium celebrate 15 years of existence with the release of their sixth album, Pinocchio, coming out via Kapitän Platte. The 9-track, 49-minute concept album revisits the world-famous initiatory tale of Pinocchio through a dark and violent lens of betrayal and power struggles."This really feels like We Stood Like Kings 2.0, while remaining unequivocally us. It might very well be the record we've always wanted to make," says pianist Judith Hoorens. With its extended use of distorted synths and heavy post-metal riffs, Pinocchio clearly marks a turning point in the band's history.

Nevertheless, the latest album from Hammock, exists in a state of awakening. Across 11 ambient guitar string, and piano works, ethereal light crests and contrasts with darkness, giving shape to physical forms and feelings. Amidst sorrow and grief, melodic motifs and refrains echo from the past to reanimate dreams and faded memories. As Nevertheless asks questions of permanence and purpose, beauty takes shape in the intangible_the traceless connections that gave, and give, meaning. "Nevertheless has been one of those words that has outlasted my upbringing," says Hammock's Marc Byrd. "Being from the deep South, I most often heard it said or read at funeral services. It's meant to imply a type of sacred pause . . . a space of in between. Between the grief of being broken by the world and the impossibility of moving into a future that feels more like empty space and less like solid ground. This album is for a friend who lost a daughter and a son to addiction within a couple of years of each other. Requiem for Johan sets up the context for what is to follow throughout the rest of the album. . . a passage through the aftermath of devastation. Unfortunately, and fortunately, these seasons of loss are what we all share in common. Nevertheless . . . we limp on."

Between elegant and dark electronic beats and cosmic ambient breaths, seven tracks enveloped in the voice of a multi-talented artist, dedicated to deconstructing the song form and breaking down language to create an esoteric sonic world where the archaic, contemporary, and futuristic entwine like the gravitational dance of two galaxies about to merge. Born in 1992 in Gallura, with a jazz background that allows for absolute compositional freedom, Daniela Pes is a unique personality in today"s scene. Her distinctive features include the use of voice as an instrument and textual exploration: in Spira, the Sardinian artist sings in a language that does not (yet) exist. Ancient Gallurese words, fragments of Italian terms, entirely invented words form the organic molecules of an unprecedented language where verses are free from metrics, and words are not conveyors of a concept but pure sound, like beads of an articulated phonetic rosary, inaccessible rationally but intoxicating emotionally. Spira is an album of visionary music interpreting the sonic dramaturgy as utopia.

Lo Recordings is proud to present a brand new compilation by Russian electronic producer/composer OID, spanning 25 years of music that blends in and out of focus, inhabiting styles from dub techno to ambient, vaporwave, space gamelan, electronica and beyond. The album is both a retrospective and a celebration, a journey into a singular world that exists only in OID’s imagination, available digitally and on Ltd cassette from 24th April 2026.

“I first met OID in an illicit ‘Sky High’ bar in Moscow. It was a club for people who liked to jump from high buildings. OID played the piano whilst a tea ceremony took place. It was all like some kind of strange dream. The music he creates sounds like that kind of dream. Some of the tracks are reminiscent of the music released by ALEXANDROID on the ‘False Starts’ album way back in 2003 - a legendary album, in our minds at least. Alex tragically passed away in 2009, leaving only OID.

The music on this album is a testament to the beauty of friendship, the everlasting meaning of music and the light that shines forever.” -
Jon Tye, Lo Recordings

Fifteen years after their first album "Time for a Change", and drawing on the experience of two others ("Elephanz" 2017, and "Rien de personnel" 2023), ELEPHANZ now returns with a fourth album that carries the scent of first loves, the kind you sing from the heart with your hands gripping a guitar.

"Love. Hurt. Repeat." tells, across ten songs, the story of a return to oneself, like coming home after years spent roaming the world, only to realize that everything you needed to understand yourself was already there at the starting line.

To help you understand what this new album makes me feel, I'd like to tell you about my first meeting with Jon and Max in 2009, when I became the band's bassist. Sixteen years ago, I discovered these two young men and set off in their family Kangoo van on my very first tour.

Through our early rehearsals around the piano of their childhood, I discovered their love for pop music in all its breadth, always in search of harmonies and melodies that touch the heart in the simplest way and gently ease your sorrows along the way. With them, I learned to appreciate the mainstream hits I had previously dismissed on principle, and I discovered the demanding art of melody as I listened to them sing about love and friendship through unforgettable catchphrases.

Listening today to some of the songs from their new album, I think back to those two young men with a big-city rock look, shut away in the living room of their family home, talking only about leaving that dull countryside behind to live the big life in the capital (Streets of Rage). What I once took for a kind of revenge against the hostile environment of their adolescence was in fact an almost vital need to find their place among others, to feel understood in order to feel at ease in their own skin.

Today, I find them again with the same guitar and the same inexpensive Juno as back then, but with the confidence shaped by years of concerts, writing, studio encounters, and all kinds of experimentation. The music of this fourth album has never been so close to that of their earliest days, but their voices have been set free. They no longer sing about who they dreamed of becoming, but about who they have always been, their most distant concerns, sometimes even their darkest ones, yet always in search of the light.

It is as if ELEPHANZ had to travel all the way around the world to come face to face with themselves again. There is no longer any shame in being who you are, and it is even the best way to understand yourself, to exist and to heal. To heal from grief and heartbreak, to understand the child you once were and the one who carried them (Mother), to forgive yourself and finally learn to love yourself.

That is what makes this record as sensitive as it is powerful and strikingly truthful. It was written and recorded like a cry, live, in just a few weeks, using the instruments of their beginnings: sharp bass and drums, powerful guitars, and synthesizers that are at times soaring, at times carriers of liberating melodies. The art of ballads remains, as does that of universal pop songs.

There is a beautiful urgency here, the urgency of finding oneself again in order to understand oneself through both pain and beauty, and "Love. Hurt. Repeat." is its most perfect expression.

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

Venturing into “a limbo world between medieval tropes and modern-day decay”, New Orleans musician Urq (half of art punk duo Spllit) returns with a new solo offering. Recorded over a single, intense month, This Dismal Village is a homespun document that sits somewhere between jittery punk, dreary psychedelia, and hooky bedroom pop. Recorded to 4-track, the record embraces limitation as a creative engine, resulting in a sound that is raw, unsettled, and deeply atmospheric.

The album is set not in a fixed point in time or geography, but a liminal environment where dystopic visions and archaic fixtures exist side by side. In the dismal village, kings and witches share space with televisions, skyscrapers, and modern enterprise; organ fanfares echo down streets populated by disgruntled townsfolk and whispered gossip. It is simultaneously the dark ages, 1950s suburbia, and a 21st-century metropolis. Embracing anachronism was central to the project’s identity, an attempt to collapse history into a single, uneasy present.

Sonically and philosophically, the album sits firmly in the tradition of rough and raw cassette rock. Guided By Voices’ Bee Thousand looms large as an influence, particularly its ability to build an entire world through unpolished, first-take recordings. Robert Pollard’s idea of the “four P’s” (psych, punk, prog, and pop) serves as a neat summary of the artist’s musical instincts and each element can be traced right through the heart of This Dismal Village. Further inspiration comes from post-punk’s so-called “Calgary Sound,” a loose movement blending psych pop, post-punk, and math/prog elements with a home-recorded, unpretentious ethos.

The result is an album that unrolls like a place wandered through, uneasy, occasionally familiar, and impossible to pin down in time. All captured on tape before it could disappear like an apparition, like a dream only half-remembered.

Le Futur c’est la drogue, which should here be translated as The Future Is the Drug, is not to be read as a promise, but as a statement of fact. The present is no longer an experience, but pure consumption. Life itself has taken the form of a dependency.

With this sixth album, Christophe Clébard goes straight to the point, driven by a free and repetitive form of writing, stripped of any syntactic rigidity. Words strike like balls against a wall, revealing darker zones of his mind where guilt, fear, and existential anxiety coexist.

The sound composition, equally minimal, sustains a dense and obsessive mental space, a vortex in which trance appears as the only escape. Driving drum machines, relentlessly hammered electronic loops, and a battered synthesizer, his music unfolds within a physical, strangely hypnotic synth-punk aesthetic that hits viscerally.

The Future Is the Drug is his sixth album.

Is it Kasra V or Kasra the Fifth? Fifth generation, fifth of his name? V for vendetta or V for valentine? Try as we might to figure it out and whatever the answer may be, he has sauntered back toward the decks to present this aural offering. Two tried and true edits specially brewed for dancefloor mania. Limited numbers of these tantalizing records exist, get them before they fade out into the ether.

Gal Costa’s 1969 self-titled album stands as one of the
boldest statements of the Tropicália movement. Blending
psychedelic rock, experimental arrangements, and Brazilian
popular music with fearless originality, the album showcases
Costa’s powerful, expressive voice at its most adventurous.
Featuring contributions from major Tropicália figures such as
Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil, its mix of sweetness and
sonic daring helped redefine contemporary Brazilian music,
cementing Gal Costa as a groundbreaking and influential artist.

Hailing from the birthplace of Hip-Hop, this 3-Man Crew (Natural Elements) have been a Staple in the NYC Hip-Hop scene for among those who seek authentic lyricism and organic flows given off by this amazing group. On their highly anticipated NEw album “ALIGNMENT” on the legendary Fat Beats they are continuing this tradition of sharp, thought-provoking bars and songs that their cult following (worldwide) has become accustomed to over the years. This 17 Song piece of art features robust production by their longtime original producer and founder of NE “(The Real) Charlemagne”, as well as UK producer “I.G Nexus”, Harlem producer ‘Le Grand Mohyay aka Bearfakts’ & producer ‘Real6’ on the title track. As a quote from one of their previous releases goes "Fat Beats, Lyrics and Skills Natural E is coming with it."

Hailing from the birthplace of Hip-Hop, this 3-Man Crew (Natural Elements) have been a Staple in the NYC Hip-Hop scene for among those who seek authentic lyricism and organic flows given off by this amazing group. On their highly anticipated NEw album “ALIGNMENT” on the legendary Fat Beats they are continuing this tradition of sharp, thought-provoking bars and songs that their cult following (worldwide) has become accustomed to over the years. This 17 Song piece of art features robust production by their longtime original producer and founder of NE “(The Real) Charlemagne”, as well as UK producer “I.G Nexus”, Harlem producer ‘Le Grand Mohyay aka Bearfakts’ & producer ‘Real6’ on the title track. As a quote from one of their previous releases goes "Fat Beats, Lyrics and Skills Natural E is coming with it."

Faitiche welcomes a new artist: Christina Kubisch belongs to the first generation of sound artists. Her practice ranges from performances, concerts, to works with video and visual art, but she is best known for her sound installations and electro-acoustic compositions.

TUNING brings together three pieces by Christina Kubisch from different periods of her oeuvre. What they have in common is the way they transform sound phenomena originally considered “non-music” into compositions.

Jan Jelinek: Gaming in Silence (2024) is the most recent work on this compilation. It’s a collage of electromagnetic waves, voice, and abstract sound textures. How did this combination come about?

Christina Kubisch: Gaming was commissioned as a fixed-media composition for the Sound Dome at ZKM Karlsruhe. Since Resonances: The Electromagnetic Bodies Project (2005), I’ve been making recordings in the old and new server rooms at the ZKM and in their permanent collection of historical computer games. Computer games like Asteroids (Atari, 1979) and Poly-Play (VEB Polytechnik, 1986) have specially generated analogue electromagnetic waves that interest me in particular on account of their density, rhythms and textures. I originally studied painting and to me the work of composition often feels like painting an abstract picture. I alter my source material as little as possible, layering and overlapping until a distinctive sound space emerges. In recent pieces, I sometimes combine magnetic waves with field recordings or live instruments. In Gaming it’s my recording of a Chinese song about silence.

JJ: Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004) is a recording from your Electrical Walks series. Here we should give a brief explanation of one of your best known works: participants in an Electrical Walk move through public spaces wearing prepared headphones that allow them to receive electromagnetic waves from their surroundings – for example from security gates, ATMs or neon signs. They discover a situation that normally is inaudible to the human ear and they can actively shape it by choreographing their movements. I really admire this piece, not least because there’s no clear dividing line between participants and artist. What exactly do we hear in Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004)?

CK: With this early work, I wanted to understand what is heard by people participating in an Electrical Walk in the same place but moving in different ways. The Spanish composer Miguel Alvarez-Fernàndez and I set off from opposite ends of a major shopping street in Madrid, met briefly in the middle, and then continued to the end. We both recorded our walks and I then layered them over one another. You might call it a work of electromagnetic conceptualism.

JJ: Diapason (2009 version) is an installation that plays a composition based on sounds from fifteen tuning forks. This setting is audible in the recording: there’s no dramatic arc, no beginning or end – instead, it recalls a piece of aleatoric music focussing on the decay phase. How did you come to make this work and could you tell us something about your compositional method?

CK: Diapason is part of a series of three pieces that deal with “non-instruments” or instruments that no longer exist: electrical mine bells used to send signals to the workers underground; a historical glass harmonica originally used for medicinal purposes; and tuning forks that were used by doctors to test people’s hearing. All of these methods are no longer in use. The sound of the tuning forks, audible only if held close to the ear, was recorded at the electronic studio at Berlin’s Technical University in such a way that even their decay remained audible. The frequencies range between 64 and 2048 Hertz and they can be adjusted at micro-intervals using small movable weights. The sequence and the duration of the pauses are dictated by chance and were not defined in advance. The 2009 version was created for an installation in the historic Holy Cross Church (Korskirken) in Bergen. Visitors could enter and leave the space at any time, deciding for themselves where and for how long they wished to listen to the sounds played back over an array of small loudspeakers placed on the floor of the apse.

Credits:

Gaming in Silence: commission of the ZKM/Hertzlab, Karlsruhe 2023
elektronic sound processing: Tom Thiel
sound engineering and mixing: Eckehard Güther

Diapason: produced at Elektronisches Studio of TU Berlin
rearrangement: Eckehard Güther

Christina Kubisch, published by Edition Christina Kubisch / Random Musick Publishing

image front: Transitionen 2021 by C. Kubisch, sonagrams of electronic waves (courtesy: Galerie Mazzoli Berlin)
image back: Diapason Tuning Fork, property of Folkmar Hein, Photo: Archiv Christina Kubisch

design by Tim Tetzner
mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi
Thanks to Miguel Álvarez-Fernández, Folkmar Hein, Dominik Kautz and Mario Mazzoli

Lungfish's sixth full-length LP, released in 1998.

Daniel Higgs vocals
Asa Osborne guitar
Nathan Bell bass
Mitchell Feldstein drums

With American idealism and societal unity in flames, the ethereal ambiance of Denver's ABRAMS has been permeated by vibrating, hair-trigger fury. On new album Loon, wistful melodies warp into dissonance and aggression, and crystalline beauty is inhabited by bitterness and rage. 2024's soaring and driving Blue City was a record full of arresting, nostalgic textures that Metal Hammer Magazine called "an upswell of positivity in the face of frustration that's sure to shake you from your existential slumber." But this is no longer the world of that album. The grinding hopelessness and chaos of these times have infused ABRAMS with the shattering intensity of Converge. Urgent and abrasive, Loon is acerbic, fed up, and riddled with pulverizing fury. Wistful melodies warp into dissonance and aggression. Crystalline beauty is inhabited by bitterness and rage. The band's instinctive hooks aren't gone, and hopeful moments do shine intermittently through. But it's clear that ABRAMS, like a lot of us, are pissed off. Desperate and seething, Loon is an irresistible, frenzied purge from a band refusing to give in. For fans of Torche, Converge, Cave-In, Failure, Quicksand and Hum. Coloured LP (white vinyl) & digipaked CD

Geboren im Sommer '96/'97 - dem Jahr des Höllenschweins - brannten Mustang als soziales Experiment aus der Innenstadt Tasmaniens heraus. Sie kamen mit ziemlich viel davon, andere hätten für weniger wohl nicht mehr gleich ausgesehen.Sie sauf-ten, machten Sachen kaputt und brachten dieses Chaos in das Schreiben von Banger-Songs - während sie sich bei den ,Proben" XXX Ales reinzogen und bei sehr wichtigen ,Bandmeetings" Protokolle führten.Mustang schütteten Benzin über ihre tasmanische Ödnis, bevor sie 7,69 Millionen Quadratkilometer Landmasse der Erde in sich aufsogen und dort ,dominierten", auf die einzige Art, die sie kannten: laut, wütend und zu ihren eigenen Bedingungen - und nahmen dabei Horden williger Partygänger mit auf die Reise.Über drei Non-Studio-Alben und eine Handvoll kleiner Veröffentlichungen hinweg bauten Mustang einen Katalog auf, der von Bier, Speed und störrischer Unabhängigkeit geprägt war. Kein Glanz. Kein Trendgehechel. Kein Buckeln vor dem Mann. Sie ritten ein, tranken, was da war, und hinterließen klingelnde Köpfe.Cut Up Rough (2015) war ihr Schwanengesang - geboren in einer Heuscheune am ausgefransten Rand von Tasmaniens Rock-Hochburg. Aufgenommen über zwei schlaflose, bierselige Tage wurde das Album mit improvisierten Drum-Takes, aufgedrehten Gitarren und purem Instinkt in die Existenz gerissen. Die Band lebte während der Aufnahmen buchstäblich in der Scheune - schiss ins Gras, schlief zwischen leeren Dosen, und ließ Isolation und Absurdität direkt in billige Mikrofone bluten.

Leading outlet for forward-thinking Scandinavian jazz, April Records, proudly presents the new album from Malmö-based quintet People In Orbit. A followup to their critically acclaimed 2023 release Close/Away (Naxos Prophone), the group continues to explore Scandinavia"s jazz tradition through a contemporary lens, blending acoustic interplay with electronics and a focus on collective improvisation. Led by trumpeter and composer Adam Sass, People In Orbit were formed in late 2020 with the intention of reimagining the classic jazz quintet with a contemporary edge. The group prioritises space, interaction, and ensemble balance, allowing composed material and collective responsiveness to shape the music. Alongside Sass, the band features Edvin Ekman (tenor saxophone, effects), Niklas Bergström (piano, Moog, keyboards), Edvin Elmersson (double bass), and Frank William Reis (drums). Viewpoint is a concept-driven album centred on perspective; how different viewpoints influence the way events are interpreted, and how perspective can foster connection or distance. Much of the album is built around Cycles, a four-part suite composed from a graphic score, with each section representing a different human life and its relationship to the surrounding world. The album moves through shifting emotional and psychological states, from curiosity and tension to reflection and release. Perspective is explored not only through human experience, but also via non-human viewpoints - including music inspired by deep-ocean communication between whales and slow, drifting motion. Musically, Viewpoint continues People In Orbit"s blend of modern jazz-rock and electronics, while drawing influence from the Scandinavian jazz quintet tradition of the 1960s. The music balances structured composition with openness, allowing individual voices to exist within a clearly defined collective sound. With Viewpoint, People In Orbit presents a focused and cohesive statement - an album shaped by shared intent, conceptual clarity, and a continued commitment to collective expression.