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Im Herbst 2022 lebte Phil Cook allein in einem kleinen Haus am Rande von Feld und Wald in North Carolinas Piedmont. Die meiste Zeit seines Leben lang lebte er in der Nähe der Herzen der Städte, die er sein Zuhause nannte, in der Nähe des ächzenden Verkehrs und des Trubels in den Coffee Shops. Diese Nähe Nähe trug dazu bei, dass der gesellige Cook ein produktiver Mitarbeiter wurde, als Mitbegründer von Megafaun bis zur Zusammenarbeit mit The Blind Boys of Alabama, Bon Iver, Hiss Golden Messenger und unzähligen anderen. Aber Cooks nächster war ein Wanderweg, und so ging er hin und lauschte, hingerissen erst von der Stille und dann von den vielen Vögeln. Er begann, sein Fensterbrett jede Nacht einen Spalt offen zu lassen, damit der Chor der Vögel im Morgengrauen ihn begrüßte. Cook begann, diese verworrenen Vogelstimmen aufzunehmen, und er schloss sich ihnen an. Wenn die Sonne schließlich hoch stand, hörte Cook sich die Aufnahmen des Tages an und improvisierte in Echtzeit auf dem Instrument, das seine erste und unerschütterlichste Liebe seines musikalischen Lebens geblieben ist: das Klavier. Als Cook diese Hütte nach einem Jahr verließ, zog er in ein eigenes Haus in Durham, mit viel Platz für seine beiden Jungs zum Spielen und für etwas, das er noch nie besessen hatte: ein richtiges Klavier. In den nächsten Monaten verbrachte Cook unzählige Stunden damit, an diesen Stücken zu feilen. Während des Unterrichts beim großen Südstaaten-Gospelpianisten Chuckey Robinson hatte dieser Cook aufgefordert, weniger Noten zu halten und seine Melodien nicht mehr durch die Verwendung der Pedale des Instruments als Krücken zu benutzen. Seine Musik hatte plötzlich mehr Klarheit, und die Klänge und Gefühle, die sie transportierten, hatten mehr Raum zum Funktionieren. Cook grub sich in die Gefahr und Freude, in die Idee, dass wir unsere Körper zu Knoten verdrehen um zu verstehen, was das Beste für unsere Herzen ist. Im April 2024 kehrte Cook in das Chippewa Valley in Wisconsin zurück, wo er aufgewachsen war. Sein lebenslanger Freund und Bandkollege, Justin Vernon, hatte gerade die Renovierung von April Base abgeschlossen, dem Studio, in dem Cook in den letzten 15 Jahren an mehr als einem Dutzend Platten gearbeitet hat. Cook bat Vernon, Appalachia Borealis so einfach wie möglich zu produzieren, nur zuzuhören und in zwei ausgedehnten Nachmittagssitzungen Feedback zu geben, um die richtigen Takes auszuwählen, die, die das Herz erfasst haben. Natürlich wurde das Ganze komplizierter, als sie anfingen in dem Prozess zu experimentierten. Vernon fügte die Vogelstimmen zu Cooks Kopfhörern hinzu oder entfernte sie, um zu sehen, wie sie sich auf sein Spiel auswirkten. Oder sie leiteten seine Noten durch eine massive Hallkammer und Cook reagierte darauf mit hauchzarten Improvisationen. Appalachia Borealis ist eine zutiefst ergreifende und persönliche Sammlung von 11 Klavier Meditationen, die die emotionale Bandbreite einer vollen und offenen Existenz abbilden. Inspiriert von diesen Improvisationen auf der Fensterbank, spiegelt es nicht nur die Aufruhr und die Traurigkeit einer schwierigen Zeit für Cook, sondern auch die Hoffnung, das Licht und die Freude, nach der anderen Seite zu schauen. Manchmal kann man noch die Vögel hören, deren Melodie und Zeit so viele dieser Lieder inspiriert haben. Selbst wenn sie nicht in Hörweite sind, bleibt ihre Essenz bestehen.

Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”

“Machine Against Rage” is the first release on OAOE - a new experimental music series on Wodawater.

Real and cloned voice becomes intertwined with physical space forming a call and response chain of a spatial imaginary emerging from a certain passage from Philip K. Dick. The machine never stops and enfolds the listener with affective feedback tones, subtle rhythms, disjointed impacts and noise. The record is result of a collaboration between the label’s founder Miko Szatko, also known as the techno producer and performer TRSSX and co-founder of EXIT Glasgow, and Verena Lercher, a Berlin-based media artist and resident at spæs - lab for spatial aesthetics in sound in Berlin. All recorded at Funkhaus Berlin between 2023-24, the six compositions originate from various feedback spatialisations and turntable movements amplified by an IKO, the 20-membrane speaker-instrument developed by spæs lab’s co-founder Gerriet Krishna Sharma and the IEM in Graz.

Low Fidelity was commissioned by Anna Koch / Weld with support from the Swedish Arts Council for the performance Insisting On. Sneak premiere for Issue Project Room, Saint Vitus Bar, Brooklyn, USA in December 2015. First performance at Weld, Stockholm, Sweden in February 2016.

Invocation I is an excerpt from a live recording at Inter Arts Center, Malmö, Sweden, January 2017 based on Lindström’s ‘giant electronic feedback set-up. The True Laptop Quartet is named after a set of instruments built on electromagnetic feedback principles. Both the instruments and the piece were commissioned by Bergen Assembly 2016 for Tarek Atoui’s Within project. Track recorded at Sentralbadet, Bergen, Norway, June 2016 with September 1st 2016 with Tarek Atoui, Espen Sommer Eide, Mats Lindström and Kaya Molsen as the musicians. Light Vessel 21 was a collaboration with Anna Koch and presented as an A/V installation on board the historic LV21 vessel. LV21 saw most of her service off the Kent coast on the Varne and East Goodwin stations. The piece was commissioned by Töne Festival, Kent, England. World premiere: June 20th 2014. Sotto il Ponte was recorded live, with Alba G. Corall on live video, at Huset Under Bron, Stockholm, Sweden in February 2014. Shadow of the Dutchman was an overture to the Wagner opera in a version for three pianos and live electronics. The piece was commissioned by Folkoperan, Stockholm, Sweden. Its debut performance was in February 2013.

“Eerie, wailing sounds over distorted feedback drones… Vibrato-heavy harmonies chirrup and throb in agonisingly slow motion.”
The Guardian, Album of the Month

“Cinematic...carefully orchestrated...delicately explores unfamiliar territory with uncanny finesse.”
The Wire

Acclaimed Icelandic theremin musician Hekla returns with Turnar, her third album of devastatingly heavy, spectral soundscape-songwriting, entering a sublime paranormal plane of haunting dread.

Now augmenting her virtuosic solo theremin work with cello, voice, and the sacred church organ of Icelandic master Kristján Hrannar, the evolution of Hekla’s unique magic summons new worlds with Turnar. The album was recorded partly in (and named after) a medieval castle tower in rural France, its ruinous black broken in spare beams of angelic stained-glass light. But, writes Hekla, “the sound of theremin kind of opens up a portal into a new realm that both looks into a dark old world and to the future.” The record is an alternately beautiful and crushing space voyage into a glacial underworld cascading with phosphorescence and cave drip, conjuring ancient choral ritual just as readily as redolent sci-fi gloam.

Opener “Inni” begins with swooning and shimmering lines of theremin that shiver with electrified energy before subfrequency bass elevates them into a glowing plasma, hovering above a crystallised surf. Key moment “Gráminn” wails with ghostly harmonics while distorted drones crash together in a stormy and blackened netherworld sea. It traces a neat progression from Hekla’s last album - the acclaimed Xiuxiuejar - while also welcoming an expanded timbral palette and flourishing compositional confidence. At the end of side A, “Var” delicately places sonic artefacts about a desolate negative space, creating a dense inverse gravity. As with the rest of the record, a claustrophobic gauze hangs over music that could otherwise be called subverted songwriting, aligning Hekla’s sonics with avant-garde, musique concréte and sound-art.

After meeting in New York City more than a decade ago, Fred P & Simbad connected in London in 2017 to create a moment in time that rarely happens in underground electronic music these days. The results is Mantras For the Traveling Souls. A sonic journey where both friends experiment with pure emotional inspiration, analog electronics combined with live instrumentation to channel an experience for the mind body and soul. A timeless body of work.

Repress!

It's been four eventful years since Keinemusik's Adam Port, &ME and Rampa joined forces and laid down their collaborative debut album ‘You Are Safe.’ Taking time to explore new territories and sourcing material for their second offering, 'Send Return' is the product of this creative 'time-out:' a positive message requiring positive feedback, and hopefully making things a little better along the way. To get that message across, the boys invited a variety of voices from both past collaborative projects and new ties built over the last few years, to take part


Limited Edition, Silver Sleeve with silk-screen printing, flip image sticker on the front

Feedback! Teenage Angst! Thatcher Revenge Fantasies! Das Ffa Coffi Pawb-Debütalbum "Daleic Peilon", 1988 nur auf Tape veröffentlicht, zuerst im Eigenvertrieb und später auf dem walisischen Indielabel Ankst, erscheint zum ersten Mal auf CD und LP (White Vinyl). Die britische Neo-Psychedelia-Band aus Gruff Rhys (später Super Furry Animals), Dafydd Ieuan (später Super Furry Animals), Rhodri Puw (später Gorky's Zygotic Mynci) and Dewi Emlyn (späterer Tourmanager beider Bands) war zwischen 1986-1992 aktiv.

Like a passenger riding shotgun on a road trip, The Villagers Companion offers its own unique perspective and story to tell. Featuring tracks recorded alongside last year’s acclaimed villagers, TVC captures the miles between the start and destination—the faded gas station pit stops, the plastic saint statue stuck to the dashboard for safe travels or luck. It embodies the essence of the journey without the burden of driving—the experience of the ride itself.

The album takes us through the heart of Califone’s magic: reverb-drenched piano chords, electronic whirs, and layers of experimental noise. Guided by Tim Rutili’s abstract, fragmented lyrics—both strange and familiar—delivered through his warm, well-worn vocals, it creates an experience as evocative as it is haunting. Often passing through what seem to be the spaces between radio frequencies, the stations never meant to be heard. Crackles of static, feedback loops, and fleeting signals bloom into meditative moments, with each sound given space to breathe, unravel, and shimmer in slow decay. The result resonates deeply, transforming what might be noise into something profound, hypnotic, and totally immersive.

As with villagers, Rutili and company continue to explore what it means to get lost while surrounded by modern technology. Like a ghost in a machine or a whispered prayer stuck in a telephone line, Califone adds soul—be it damned or saved. And they do so with the kind of transformative magic granted perhaps only to artists a quarter of a century into their craft. The kind that turns a photograph into a tableau, or any darkened space with a microphone into a makeshift confessional. A song into a hymn, and a hymn into a soundtrack to a life.

Like a passenger riding shotgun on a road trip, The Villagers Companion offers its own unique perspective and story to tell. Featuring tracks recorded alongside last year’s acclaimed villagers, TVC captures the miles between the start and destination—the faded gas station pit stops, the plastic saint statue stuck to the dashboard for safe travels or luck. It embodies the essence of the journey without the burden of driving—the experience of the ride itself.

The album takes us through the heart of Califone’s magic: reverb-drenched piano chords, electronic whirs, and layers of experimental noise. Guided by Tim Rutili’s abstract, fragmented lyrics—both strange and familiar—delivered through his warm, well-worn vocals, it creates an experience as evocative as it is haunting. Often passing through what seem to be the spaces between radio frequencies, the stations never meant to be heard. Crackles of static, feedback loops, and fleeting signals bloom into meditative moments, with each sound given space to breathe, unravel, and shimmer in slow decay. The result resonates deeply, transforming what might be noise into something profound, hypnotic, and totally immersive.

As with villagers, Rutili and company continue to explore what it means to get lost while surrounded by modern technology. Like a ghost in a machine or a whispered prayer stuck in a telephone line, Califone adds soul—be it damned or saved. And they do so with the kind of transformative magic granted perhaps only to artists a quarter of a century into their craft. The kind that turns a photograph into a tableau, or any darkened space with a microphone into a makeshift confessional. A song into a hymn, and a hymn into a soundtrack to a life.

In 2000 and 2001 the original version of 6TH GATE raged over mainland Europe hitting top 10 in a dozen countries and becoming platinum and gold in Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Greece, Poland,….

In 2023 the track got 2 make-overs by Reinier Zonneveld and Quintino.

2 years on, 2025, the track gets the commercial make-over it deserves.

On the vinyl, besides the new 2025 remix, also the very sought-after ORIGINAL MIX and the, never-on-vinyl-before released QUINTINO Remix

Remix by Erik Hubo, the original producer/author of the 2023 worldwide clubhit METRO (Mau P/Kevin De Vries)

Armin Van Buuren absolutely loves the track and it made it’s debut on Armin’s show A State Of Trance on November 7th. Since A State of Trance has a 3 week exclusive, no other DJ-feedback for the moment.

Thme is the alias of Paris-based musician Théo Martin. He has released numerous albums on labels such as Seil Records, Vaagner, and Lontano Series, along recent collaborations with artists Agyt and Lamasz.

Anti Atlas is Théo’s first solo work in two years, and his first release on vinyl and cd. The use of magnetic tape remains central to his creative process, enabling him to infuse the sound with a sense of fragility and vulnerability, despite its inherent unpredictability. Feedback loops, emerging from the interactions between tape recorders, served as the guiding principle throughout the entire recording. Longing, heartfelt aspirations, and the quiet hope that keeps us reaching for what lies ahead.

"Porœs" ist das erste gemeinsame Album des Elektronikmusikers und No-Input-Mixing-Universalgelehrten Simon Grab und des Schlagzeugers und Komponisten David Meier, Mitglied der renommierten Avantgarde-Minimal-Rockband Schnellertollermeier. Der Sound von Grab & Meier ist roh und unbeständig und wechselt zwischen messerscharfen, rollenden, bröckelnden, unberechenbaren und wilden Zuständen. Er balanciert zwischen Meiers organischem Schlagzeugspiel und Grabs pulsierenden Pieptönen und Geräuschen, knurrenden Basslines und Dubbed-Feedbacks, die er aus seinem individuell angeschlossenen No-Input-Mixing-Setup extrahiert. Keines der Instrumente übernimmt die Führung, die beiden Musiker treten in einen ständigen Dialog. Als leidenschaftliche Improvisatoren haben sie dieses Album mit sieben Tracks in mehreren Studiosessions aufgenommen, was zu einem Ergebnis führte, das selbstbewusst und präzise ist, aber die Dringlichkeit einer Live-Improvisation beibehält.

- "Unser gemeinsamer Spielplatz ist das Grooven auf dem Risiko des Auseinanderfallens, wie das Surfen auf einem Unterwasser-Seil durch Wellen von Frequenzen, auf gebrochenen Rhythmen." – Simon Grab & David Meier

. The idea for the band was originally conceived by singer-guitarist Joe Woodward whilst writing and recording songs in his kitchen on a 4-track recorder, and over time eventually found help from like-minded friends, Elliot Roberts and Cam Wheeler. The three of them would spend their nights experimenting with cassette recording with the admirable if not challenging aim to recreate the symphonic sounds of Phil Spector on a DIY budget. With growing confidence and having amassed a small catalogue of songs, a few aborted attempts were made to get a live band together before they found help from a second guitarist, Eli Allison, who had recently relocated from Cornwall. As necessity would dictate, the first shows as a quartet made use of a drum machine, but the ideal formation for the band wasn’t truly complete until meeting Nia Abraham, whose live drumming would add a more physical quality to the band’s sound. At the beginning of 2024, they began working more purposefully towards an end goal with the writing and recording of the five-song Nowhere Near Today EP. Though retaining some of their home recording practices, they also made use of a studio facility based in a disused shopping centre basement that was made available through SHIFT, a local artist collective connected to the band. The acquisition of an 8-track Tascam 488MKII, along with the natural reverb of SHIFT’s empty concrete space allowed for further opportunity to experiment with both cassette recording techniques and their still developing live sound, the two environments permitting an all-too-rare creative freedom. The process was transformative for the group, their Spector-inspired ambitions now taking on a more defined shape that skirted around the edges of psych, noise-rock and industrial-pop in a way that increasingly became their own. For a debut EP, the results are impressively realised, a confluence of expansive tremolo guitars, a deliberately primordial rhythm section and a contrasting vulnerable vocal performance that’s both melodic and bracing. It’s a record born both of private experimentation and public performance, who they are on stage and what they express on record informing the other but still distinctly each their own thing, shifting then dovetailing like the waves of feedback that wash through Nowhere Near Today. Still a young band, it’s tomorrow they feel a lot closer to.

Terra Utopia returns to Emotional Response with a second long-from EP / mini-LP, 10 more tracks that span the ethereal sounds of ambient, atmospheric beats and liquid drum and bass.

Originally intended as a one-off project from French producer Benoit B, Terra Utopia 1 was recorded in 2 weeks while sojourned in an Athens’ Spring. A personal dedication to a specific sound he loved.

Since the original release, a debut LP under his own name followed, before Benoit embarked on his new club orientated project Blu:sh, releasing a series of acclaimed EPs for the likes of esteemed Kalahari Oyster Club and Roza Terenzi’s Step Ball Chain label.

However, the incredibly positive feedback of the first Terra Utopia recordings led to reappraisal and return to the name and here again, a second set of 10 tracks (8 vinyl and 2 digital bonus).

Once more recorded as short pieces – cut loud for DJ play – they interconnect to feelings of intangible expanses, that embracing summer, the warmth, a latent stillness of the azure sea and sky. This invitation, a narrative forever calling, of long days, calm nights, the infinite astral plain in minds eye.

The ambience has progressed, beats crackle and snap, tracks visualise an individuality, names are anointed, with the collaboration with singer dvdv on Shadows Of Memories, a floating, mesmeric highpoint, a dreaming siren.

No fears, the children of the heat embark.

Cello player and electronic artist Martina Bertoni returns with her 2nd album for Karl: Hypnagogia delivers six new, masterfully crafted tracks between experimental ambient, drone and modern composition.

Cellist and composer Martina Bertoni started playing the cello at a very young age. Classically trained, her career further developed around experimental and film music, for which her cello has been featured in numerous records, works and soundtracks for films and series. After two EPs and her debut full length All The Ghosts Are Gone (2020), Bertoni joined the Karl roster where she released Music For Empty Flats in January 2021 to critical acclaim (a.o. one of the Top Ten drone albums of 2021).

On her new album Hypnagogia she continues to explore the sonic possibilities of her cello which she uses as primary source for composition and sound processing through reverbs, feedbacks and sub-bass frequencies, thus crafting sonic sculptures, rich of atmospheres and frictions, fed by ambient as much as drone and modern composition.

In the words of Martina Bertoni:
"The six tracks that constitute Hypnagogia have been written during 2021 and partially inspired by the reading of Stanislaw Lem's book Solaris. The title refers to a transitional state of consciousness from wakefulness to sleep, during which one might experience sensorial hallucinations and lucid dreaming, and can tap into the pristine structures of the subconscious. Hypnagogia portraits an imaginary cosmic journey of the Self that crash ends into a blinding sun."

Hana Vus "kontemplativer Indie-Pop fängt die Desillusionierung des jungen Erwachsenseins ein", schreibt der NME. Ihre neue LP Romanticism unterstreicht dieses Gefühl als ein Coming-of-Age-Werk, das die Vergänglichkeit der Jugend betrauert und nach einem Sinn sucht. Die in LA geborene Songwriterin macht seit der High School Musik und hat bereits ein Debütalbum und mehrere EPs mit glühenden, grüblerischen Hymnen voller Abstraktion und Emotionen veröffentlicht. Bei ihren früheren Arbeiten hat Vu immer wieder Feedback erhalten, aber für die Entwicklung von Romanticism hat sie sich von der Außenwelt abgeschirmt, um ihre eigene Vision zu bewahren. Das Ergebnis ist eine einheitliche Sammlung von Songs, die vor Tiefe und Intimität nur so strotzen. Die üppigen und lauten Songs erinnern sowohl an gitarrenlastigen Indie-Rock der späten Achtzigerjahre als auch an futuristisch anmutende Synthie-Bass-Schichten. Sie pulsieren vor Bedeutung und schütteln sich vor Verspieltheit, getragen von ihrer kraftvollen, sonoren Stimme und unterstrichen durch das von der Romantik inspirierte Artwork der Platte.

LP limited to 500 LP copies. Nina Garcia ’s first solo record widely available via international distribution. Nina has collaborated with artists like Stephen O’Malley, Sophie Agnel, Fred Frith, Antoine Chessex, Louis Schild, Leila Bordreuil, and supported for bands like Sonic Youth, SUNN O))). After a decade of performing concerts under the Mariachi guise, Nina Garcia has finally unveiled her unique approach in Bye Bye Bird, her first album under her name. Bye Bye Bird is her second solo album. With no pretence or demonstration, the album is a captivating blend of chiaroscuro, melodies, and raw emotion. Nina Garcia’s album takes on an almost documentary-like quality by adopting a simple approach to gesture and sound recording. It offers a candid portrayal of a moment, a lack, a state, and a breathtaking energy. With ostinato as her only credo, Nina Garcia’s music is an experiment in freedom, where the peaks answer the abysses, and the power of movement and the emotion of sound serves as her compass. From very short (01:28) to never very long (07:34), the eight tracks that make up this set explore a moment, a space, a mechanism, an intention or a way of doing things. As a common feature of almost all these pieces (all but one, the last), Nina Garcia explores a new technique. She adds to her instrumentation, reduced to the essentials (a guitar, a pedal and an amp), an electromagnetic microphone which, when held in hand, makes it possible to listen in on the exact zones where the vibration of the string creates a sound amid vast spaces of silence. The guitar is unplugged, and the body/instrument relationship changes in dimension. In this series of variations, you can get caught up in masses of noise seen from very, very close up, evocations of melodies in the making, feedback on ridgelines, pulsations that hold their own, modulations weakened by exhaustion and harmonic bursts that hint at better days to come. Neither hopelessly chthonic nor beatifically ethereal, Bye Bye Bird is a sum of musical pieces that make a whole and give voice to echoes of what has been, the presence of what is and the hope of what will be, a record movement in the form of flight and salvation. Since 2015, Nina Garcia has been researching and creating around the electric guitar, halfway between improvised music and noise. On numerous stages in Europe and North America, she has played occasionally with Stephen O’Malley, Sophie Agnel, Fred Frith, Antoine Chessex, Louis Schild or with Luke Stewart and Leila Bordreuil’s Feedback Ensemble, in addition to more regular formations in which she participates, such as the ensemble Le Un, mamiedaragon, Autoreverse (with Arnaud Rivière), duets with trombonist Maria Bertel and percussionist Camille Émaille, and the installation piece De Haut En Bas, De Bas En Haut Et Latéralement (with Christophe Cardoen, Jennifer Caubet, Etienne Foyer, Anna Gaïotti and Romain Simon). “Nina Garcia has been actively moving the art of noise guitar into surprising and intriguing new spaces. She has been at it for some time now, a bit of a secret weapon all the while hiding in plain sight. As I listen to her music and ruminate upon seeing her perform it brings me to a realization which I have with very few musicians: the ego inherent in making art can be transcended through a purity of direct action. At least that’s the feeling I have when experiencing Nina’s music which comes across as serious and radical and wholly engaged in the moment of its creative impulse.

Sunfear is a project from Turkish multidisciplinary artist Eylul Deniz who now returns to Dark Entries with her sophomore album. Deniz has been making waves in sound since 2017 when she debuted her blend of ambient and experimental music using piano, guitar, voice and synths as tools for storytelling and self-expression. Inspired by Dante's Love That Moves the Sun and Other Stars, Pessoa's poems and Turkish poet Lale Muldur, this darker follow-up to Octopus channels some of her own personal loss and grief. Tracks like 'Above' pair sparse guitar riffs with swirling electronics, 'Bright and Wild' contrasts lush drones with jagged feedback and there are also hints of hope in the likes of 'Form Changed.' A great return.

20 mins+ EP on 10" vinyl (black), ltd. 400 copies. "The Underground Youth blend the sounds of shoegaze, post-punk and psychedelic rock with their own hauntingly beautiful twist." The Underground Youth is the name under which Manchester's underground poet, Craig Dyer, has produced his records since 2009. In 2011, Fuzz Club Records started putting out his prolific catalogue, bringing to light a number of LPs and singles that had only circulated virally on the Internet. Since then, The Underground Youth, with Craig and Olya Dyer as the core of the band, have expanded to a four piece, gaining a solid international fan-base and touring all around the UK and Europe. Gideon Coe has spinned their single "Juliette" on BBC6 and they took part to the "Reverb Conspiracy - Volune One", curated by Fuzz Club and Austin Psych Fest. In June, they rocked up the Eindhoven Psych Lab and they are set to headline Paris Psych Fest in July. Drown In Sound said of their Eindhoven set: "combining the mesmeric rhythms of The Velvet Underground - Olya Dyer's driving beats make her the new psych generation's Mo Tucker - with rippling feedback associated with Bad Moon Risingera Sonic Youth and a dash of the Mary Chain thrown in as well, they're a captivating force".

Bluish Green was 15 + years in the making, passively percolating bi-coastly in the background of three family members' lives, waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself. That moment came in January 2024 when Ball Sisters & N1_Sound settled into the Spiritual World home base of Studio Z in Toronto, Canada. What started as three casually blissful days, resulted in a debut album, combining a unique blend of dub, neo soul, ambient & downtempo. Bluish Green sits halfway between a low-key dance floor and late night back room.

The album was almost entirely created live in the studio with very little discussion, conversation or conscious direction. There were no goals or future plans, just mutual appreciation for the moment. Repeat takes were few and far between, with the group moving fluidly from one track to the next. This preservation of emotion and human touch is deeply embedded into the music, allowing the listener to share in the raw moments that were experienced while Bluish Green was organically taking shape.

Sonic themes of the natural world run throughout the five song, 30 minute album. “R U 4 Real” welcomes the listener into T3AL’s unique ecosystem with intimate cicade-esque shakers. A reverberous güiro frog (acquired on a family trip one year ago) and synthesized ocean waves create an ambient wetland on the album's 8 minute instrument track “Frog Legacy ''. Bluish Green comes to a shimmering close on “Flip That Switch” with dubbed out crystalline slide-flute melodies resembling ocean birds that fade into an iridescent horizon.

Digital drum patterns skip & stride around contemplative circular lyrical themes on four of the five album tracks, while spatial flute melodies simultaneously spin just under the surface. The bass guitar on Bluish Green is a continuous harmonic support system, repeating on a different tectonic rotation, much slower and deeper, offering familiar footing that stops the listener from drifting out in the rippling undertow of analogue delay feedback.

“R U 4 Real”?... A question that T3AL revisits frequently when thinking of the surreal weekend that resulted in the trio’s debut album, Bluish Green

“My introduction to “noise” came from a record shop in Lake Worth, Florida ran by a musician named Kenny 5. Kenny had left Detroit sometime in the mid nineties and had begun selling used records and CD’s from the downtown strip of this tiny southern Florida city in a humble shop sandwiched between a deli and a dog grooming business. Kenny previously was on labels like Amphetamine Reptile and timeSTEREO, and the records and videotapes that would be on repeat at his shop were a vast sonic expanse that spoke to the eclecticism of his experience as a touring musician participating and adjacent to American noise culture through the early to late 90’s. In 1998, I was eleven years old and I would order a pizza with him and watch VHS tapes of Japanese noise and deathmatch bootlegs, as well as any other sonic and subcultural rarities that far outstripped my age to comprehend (notably the RRR “Journey Into Pain” compilation and various Vanilla Tapes videos). This widecast net of information formed an introduction to a reality that did not fall deaf on me, but it took many years later for me to reorient the specific freedoms of what this dense and cathartic sound culture had imparted on my life and would continue onward to.

What does this have to do with this selection of choice recordings from the Secret Boyfriend catalog for the enmossed label? For the uninitiated, Secret Boyfriend is the long running moniker of Ryan Martin, North Carolina musician and label proprietor of the Hot Releases imprint. For over a decade from this writing I have watched Secret Boyfriend, and Hot Releases by extension as a curatorial and archival effort, embodying the multiplanal capacity that noise loosely functions from as an umbrella ideology and formalist avenue for sound creation. For anecdotal purposes, from (before) 2006 until roughly 2023 the East Coast of the United States showcased a vibrant network of eclectic regional festivals that saw wide swaths of artists addressing and negotiating the notion of what qualified “noise” from a conceptual and ideological perspective. Some festivals honed in on particularities in aesthetics and tropes, and others had a kind of “catch-all” implementation that allowed for a salvation of the sort of alienated and singular artistry that was amassing throughout these territories. While clear guidelines had been set from regional predecessors as to how noise with a capital “N” should maneuver, Secret Boyfriend is emblematic in the spirit of fluidity that was either implicitly coupled to the notion of the genre, or grew to evolve towards or devolve from.

Within Secret Boyfriend performances, I have seen and admired a mirroring from a ravenous appreciator of this culture at large back towards itself. Typical of a Secret Boyfriend set is an interchangeable narrative arc wherein blistering feedback laden scrap metal improvisations are forayed into naive ambient or “pop” songs, or skipping CDs, or mixer feedback play, or delayed Roland 707 drum workouts all at once and in a unique hegemony. Secret Boyfriend's stylistic mastery of each endeavor is at once an homage to a history of loving listening and enacting, while a brave step into the realm of actualizing the unique fluidity of his own practice. In performance and the action of network engagement, Secret Boyfriend operates a survey of that which he sought to hear and that which he cultivates around his work. His operations are mirrors, and the project (alongside his other peers) is a reflection on the ethos of his time.

Conversely his recording practice narrows in on these moments and allows for a different kind of intimacy or alienation for the non live listener. This record of selected “pop songs” (let's call them that) is particularly poignant at a time when the culture Martin mirrors is at a strange crossroads with itself. The aforementioned festival networks necessarily change and shift. The onlookers become the artists, the artists find new horizons, and the spaces for these cycles fade into locales of a distant memory. It seems, from my perspective, that audiences currently yearn for a more bottlenecked experience, searching for some ontologically vetted manifestation of an idea, of a sound and less for an experience that functions in opposition to our collective banalities. This makes sense in the face of general global catastrophism that plagues us. We need certainty of what something is somewhere, don’t we? Noise as an idea has expanded and contracted to so many iterations of itself it is hard to tell what it even is, and it is particularly difficult to identify in the absence of solid network activations a moment to reflect on its own complexities and nuances. In the face of so much change, I argue that the language of noise culture at large has on one hand become increasingly didactic and predictable, and laughably inclusive and non linear on the other. Probably has always been this way, but now we are in the midst of a moment of extreme access and indexicality, which somehow cauterizes expansion and naivety and chance.

This record highlights the Secret Boyfriend that obscures didacticism by highlighting output that opens up for more challenging catharsis and emotive signal processing. It provides an entry to the materialism of a cultural field full of ecstatic complexity and beautiful inconsistency. In these muted moments Secret Boyfriend has given us over his career we have an argument for evolving languages that further challenge our notions of what is supposed to happen and how it is supposed to be presented. In his more song oriented expansiveness, we can punctuate the ability to think in new modalities. Listening to these recordings reminds me of the polarity of sitting in the record store as a kid and understanding that His Name Is Alive is on 4AD and (gasp!) timeSTEREO. This trite early impression that nothing is really as different as our imaginations might want them to be, and that we can do whatever we want mostly within the creative realms we work through is an important filter to look through Secret Boyfriend as a project and a vessel. If we can achieve abandon and vulnerability through our artistic endeavors, then we have a sound model for, maybe, new potentialities. If that’s too much projection, or just complete liberal bullshit, I am fine with that. Secret Boyfriend's oeuvre at best offers us moments of reprieve to ponder these complexities, or at least a moment to zone out on a drive through North Carolina Highway 54.

You have one pocket of life that you must do whatever you want to inside of. Secret Boyfriend does it affectionately, in a variety of forms, and always with deep sentimentality. These recordings are a wonderful set of songs to begin further investigation from. Thank you Ryan for allowing as many avenues as possible to continue a broad cultural exchange and conversation that intersect and refract while being the kind of artist that is brave enough to not phone in the effort.”

- Nick Klein , May 2024

Limited hand numbered edition of 2000
Booklet featuring photos from the show and technical details.
140g black vinyl.
Rice paper inner sleeves.

Building on the promise of his standout Vacuum EP, Brendon Moeller returns to Samurai Music to dial his expert dub techno up to 170 for a full-length trip. Moeller is celebrated as a versatile operator applying cavernous sound design and decades-deep machine soul to a broad sweep of tempos and styles, and his pivot to D&B territory is as natural as it is original. It's a perfect fit on Samurai, where palettes, pressure and rhythms are continually yielding fresh results in this highly fertile zone of modern club music.

It's no secret Moeller is a prolific producer, and following his initial connection with Samurai he offered up a vast folder of tracks created in this latest furrow of his production. The label has since sifted through and puzzled out a sonic narrative, first realised on the Vacuum EP in June 2024 and now extended with Further. For anyone keyed into the deep, techno-informed innovations taking place at 170, there is a logical connection to Moeller's take on the sound, but at the same time these tracks stand apart from anything else out there right now. In the particular textures, the unfolding arrangements and monolithic reverbs Moeller threads together with hypnotic poise, his accomplished legacy shines through.

Whether it's the snarl of a delay feedback pushed a little further, a soaring synth swell sculpted into artful noise or a particular shuffle applied to a particular drum rack, Moeller's tracks unfold with a masterful poise, hitting the sweet spot between club-spirited physicality for the deepest of dance floors and introspective headphone trips. Teeming with detail, swathed in soul and engineered to perfection, the inspiration driving Moeller is palpable across the LP, and it's resulted in some of his finest work in a career studded with highlights.

Limited edition pressing - 50 copies come with one page insert. Download code included.

The album Sonic Mystics for Poems (of Life and Death of a Phoenix) by Andrea Burelli is a work that masterfully blends traditional musical languages with the formal and conceptual sensibilities of contemporary music. It offers a profound reflection on the life-death-life cycle, centered on poetic texts that oscillate between human-sensitive experience and the mythical journey of a phoenix, a metaphor of this circular and infinite reality.

The work, which includes a collaboration with musicians from the renowned Solistenensemble Kaleidoskop, stands out for its clear influence from classical Western music and modal traditions, as well as experimental electronics. Composed for voices, strings, synthesizers, and drum machines, this music features a minimalist tapestry of polyphonies, enhanced by sophisticated electronic elements and a diverse array of rhythmic articulations.

Field Notes describes Andrea Burelli as a versatile artist capable of embodying a multitude of roles, from poet to composer, musician, and singer, emphasizing how her work reflects this versatility by ¨combining elements of art song, contemporary music, pop, and electronic sounds.¨ According to Groove Magazine, this LP evokes neoclassical chamber music and an imagined Italian folklore, aligning with contemporary explorations of modern vocal abstractions, similar to the work of artists like Marina Herlop, stating that: “This is how the new and the good emerge.”

Furthermore, the music has received positive feedback from internationally acclaimed artists such as Rashad Becker, who, in addition to being the mastering engineer of the project, describes it as "pure and honest"; James Young of Darkstar calls it "bold and innovative"; while Eartheater (PAN), Rabih Beaini, and Gigi Masin have praised it as "beautiful."

Over the course of her trailblazing career, Charli XCX has earned critical acclaim for her forward-thinking musical output and refreshing entrepreneurial spirit that has seen her carve her own lane on the global pop circuit. A singer, songwriter, video director, documentary maker, radio host and record label boss, Charli’s story is one of an artist continuing to succeed without compromise.

Now in 2020, Charli is already breaking boundaries - this year has seen her first BRIT nomination for British Female Solo Artist, marking a huge moment of validation from a mainstream audience that Charli has built on her own terms. In reaction to the global COVID-19 pandemic of 2020, Charli has proven herself to be one of the most adaptable artists working today; initially providing programs of Instagram live sessions that invited various guests to spark conversation, share insight, or simply entertain fans across the world who are currently practicing social distancing. Charli’s vision then expanded further, leading her to announce ‘how i’m feeling now’ - a new album to be written, recorded and released in 39 days, completely in self-isolation. The creative process was also to push her collaborative stream in a unique way; opening up the recording, writing, artwork, music videos and more to fans for feedback and contribution - she also further inspired her fans’ creativity, allowing them access to song stems to create remixes and greenscreen footage to be edited using their own imagination.

‘how i’m feeling now’ has given further spotlight to Charli’s status as one of the most adaptable, exciting pop artists working today, and through it’s uniquely collaborative approach, provided a shared space for those who listen to feel safe enough to express themselves however they wish at a time when they need it most.

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

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

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

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

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

Crankers of amp, torturers of fuzzbox and denizens of small-hours salvation, Thee Alcoholics dished out a rancorous and righteous debut in their decent `Feedback' - one that filtered gnarled riffage and motorik malevolence through a uniquely debauched prism in pursuit of some extremely ill-advised audial dystopia. Thee Alcoholics may have started life as the home-birthed brainchild of Rhys Llewellyn (Hey Colossus/Acidliner/Drmcnt) yet an evolution since has proven the ultimate form of this beastly creation to be the live arena. In assembling cohorts to turn these visceral jams into something to shake rafters and rattle pint-glasses, new frontiers of ornery intensity have made themselves manifest, and such is the form of the monstrous Bear Bites Horse Sessions, a live-in-the-studio document recorded with Wayne Adams at Bear Bites Horse studio in Haggerston, London, chronicling a band breathing life into a Stoogian paradigm, and doing so apparently whilst barely breaking a sweat. Taking essential elixirs of in-the-red mania, hypnotic repetition and deathless swagger, these twelve jams walk a crooked path that neighbours the nihilistic vortex of Loop, the saturnine lurch of The Fall and the deadpan derangement of The Heads but remains possessed of a maverick charisma and mischief all its own. Lovers of lysergic heaviosity and the sound of a Marshall 4x12 violently spluttering its last will find much to satisfy here, but moreover Bear Bites Horse Sessions is a testimony to sonic punishment as a gateway to new horizons, audial excess as a path to wisdom, and answers, right or wrong, being found in the bottom of a glass.

Finding herself in different emotional and physical spaces over the past years, The Hague-based Seina creates four ambiguous tracks for Juni, her debut EP out on Präsens Editionen. The material, which comfortably sits between ambient, glitch and noise, feels like a long-overdue update of Mille Plateaux and Raster-Noton's golden days. The result, however, is much richer in texture and much more sensual than these dinosaurs of electronic music.
On Juni, Seina, who has a background in electroacoustic music and live performance, layers a range of source material created with different means and techniques—from Supercollider-generated elements, to field recordings gathered in Finland, France and The Netherlands, to analog electronic instruments, digital feedback and manipulated human voices.
The EP, which is partly composed and partly improvised, does not point in one particular direction but in many at the same time, making it an immersive experience and, at the same, a bold debut.

* Edition of 100 copies
* Special artwork by Paris-based visual artist Caroline Ventura in custom snapbox
* Designed by Swiss graphic designers Denise Häberli & Alina Scharnhorst of INTR

Ava Mendoza has never made an album quite as personal as her second solo full-length, The Circular Train. Through her decades of collaborations with Nels Cline, Carla Bozulich, William Parker, Fred Frith, Matana Roberts, and Mick Barr—plus years leading her power trio Unnatural Ways and playing in Bill Orcutt’s quartet—the guitarist’s name has become synonymous with virtuoso technique, raw passion, and visceral resonance, a player pushing the edges of the guitar’s possibilities. Along the way, from 2007 to 2023, Mendoza was writing these slow-burning, incandescent songs. The Circular Train is comprised solely of her single-tracked guitar playing and, on two songs, her corporeal singing. Her first solo LP of original material since relocating from California to New York City a decade ago, much of The Circular Train was honed amid pandemic years that clarified the virtues of slowing down. This expressive avant-rock is a definitive introduction to one of the most uncompromising and inquisitive visions in creative music. Mendoza’s thrilling melange of free jazz, blues, noise, classical training, and blazing experimental rock’n’roll all coheres with ecstatic feedback, with picking and solos that crest with shimmer. Sometimes she sounds like a one-woman Sonic Youth with guttural and poised vocals that equally evoke Patti Smith and blues greats like Jessie Mae Hemphill. Conceptually, The Circular Train is presented as a psychogeographical train ride through certain of Mendoza’s musical homelands. The songs draw on ancestral and recent familial memories, notably of her parents’ roots in mining towns—in her father’s home country of Bolivia and mother’s hometown of Butte, Montana, each country with its own history of colonialism, racism, forced labor, the eradication of culture and the subsequent excavation of it. These adventurous songs were composed in cars and planes, in the heart of the Mississippi Delta, in Los Angeles and upstate New York—which is to say in motion. “Ride to Cerro Rico,” named for the mountain and silver mine at the center of Potosi, Bolivia, was inspired by Mendoza’s great grandmother’s life there in a Quechua mining family. “Dust From the Mines” drew from that history as well as Mendoza’s familial lineage of miners in Montana, building up to stunning swaths of shredded iridescence. “Pink River Dolphins” was inspired by a visit to the Amazon rainforest, swimming with dolphins alongside her father—the pink bufeos that inhabit both Bolivia and Columbia—and the song is dedicated to the memory of Mendoza’s late friend, the Colombian-American trumpeter jaimie branch. They shared a fascination with those intelligent and agile creatures who often communicate by echolocation. “Make a sound, it comes back around,” Mendoza sings, and later, “Echo, echo/The answer in a sound,” evoking what branch knew well: through music we navigate life. The Circular Train contains one cover, “Irene, Goodnight,” composed by Gussie Lord Davis and popularized by Leadbelly; Mendoza has been performing it for over 20 years. Almost as deeply embedded in her repertoire is the penultimate track, “The Shadow Song.” “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you good,” Mendoza sings on this song that she’s been reworking for over a decade, an emblem of devotion. “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you right,” she repeats, becoming a blues mantra. What is a shadow self if not one’s secret world, which, once laid bare, awaits an echo, a return?

Rolf Gehlhaar (1943-2019) was an instrumental and electronic music composer, and a pioneer in computer controlled interactive music. He grew up in the US where he studied philosophy and composition at Yale University. In 1967 he moved back to Germany to become Stockhausen’s personal assistant and member of his performing ensemble. In 1969 Gehlhaar co-founded, along with Johannes Fritsch (Metaphon 012) and David Johnson, the Feedback Studios in Cologne, a new-music performance center and publishing house. He later moved to England, where he became in 1979 a founding member of the Electro-Acoustic Music Association and later on senior lecturer in design and digital media. Gehlhaar's compositions include symphonies, instrumental works, experimental and electronic music, interactive computer controlled music and everything in between. The three previously unreleased tracks on this LP only show a glimpse of the versatility of his adventurous and innovative musical ideas.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Rediscovered and compiled for release shortly before her death in November 2023, Further Selections from the Electric Harpsichord presents a never-before-heard recording of composer and artist Catherine Christer Hennix's early magnum opus. Originally debuted in 1976 at the festival Brouwer's Lattice at Stockholm's Moderna Museet, The Electric Harpsichord has steadily mystified fans and students of Western minimalist music for its implacable, transformative qualities, and the long-held, relative obscurity of its creator. Like the work of Hennix's close friend La Monte Young, the piece is set in just intonation and focuses on the transcendental potentials of precise tuning, inspired by their studies with Pandit Pran Nath. Composed of bursts of oscillating, synthetic tones using a carefully retuned synthesizer and a tape-based system for feedback delay, the sounds swirl, twinkle, and appear to bend time, space, and perception. Additional, sustained chords on the sheng, most likely played by her Deontic Miracle bandmate Hans Isgren, are present at the opening of the piece and reemerge towards the end of the recording. The release of Further Selections constitutes the most comprehensive original recording of this foundational work to date. Originally billed as The Well-Tuned Organ during its debut in Sweden, The Electric Harpsichord has developed a legendary reputation, predicated on a twenty-six minute fragment salvaged and circulated by Hennix's friend Henry Flynt. Promoting its importance on multiple occasions, Flynt aired the work on WBAI radio, organized a pair of tape concerts at New York alternative arts spaces in 1970s, and later penned a 1998 essay which served as the liner notes to its eventual CD release in 2010. For him, this work not only represented a sterling milestone in minimal sonic aesthetics, but also spawned a new genre that he dubbed "hallucinogenic/ecstatic sound environments (HESE)," which in turn inspired his own drone-like compositions. Gradually, interest in the recording led to a spate of archival projects, public performances, and new compositions by Hennix in the 2010s, in turn drawing into focus her multifarious practice, which includes serious contributions towards mathematics, poetry, sculpture, Noh drama, philosophy, and light art. Since 2018, Blank Forms has spearheaded a comprehensive publication effort in support of her work, including the writing collection Poësy Matters and Other Matters (2018); archival recordings like Selected Early Keyboard Works (2018) and The Deontic Miracle's Selections from 100 Models of Hegikan Roku (2019); and recent compositions such as Blues Alif Lam Mim (2021) and Solo for Tamburium (2023).

Golden-era of kinked, acid-hued, analogue, harmonic song writing sits at the heart of The Eggmen Whoooooo!’s first, mind-bending, full-length album. Two-decades of meandering musicality fans the embers of cult Welsh legends, El Goodo, glowing beneath Benedict Frye’s latest bakeries of sound.

Whisking effervescence and colour into the flat glass of soda of mundane middle age, the
former El Goodo pace-setter has gathered a band of five other, talented souls and asks the jittery cut of sparking psych to lead the charge as the band’s debut album, ‘Fuzzy Eggs, Please’ is announced for release on Fri 25 October 2024.

Almost a full two decades since El Goodo rose to an elevated position amongst discerning
music-lovers as consorts to, support act beneath and studio collaborators with Super Furry
Animals, and a full four years since the final act of the departed band (their last, acclaimed
studio album, Zombie) a tapestry of distinctly and brilliantly odd songs scrambles from the
heart of the Welsh hills. Transplanted into the chest cavity of a new, stage-ready six-headed creature, what awakes is a new beast of valve amp and feedback-fuelled splendour.

All ten songs, recorded in mountainous seclusion in Carmarthenshire with producer,
Thighpaulsandra (Spiritualized, Tim Burgess), have clustered in strange harmony on The
Eggmen Whoooooo!’s very first, perfectly imperfect album.

Formed in a lightning strike of inspiration by prolific, remote South Wales-based keeper of
various musical flames, Benedict E Frye, The Eggmen Whoooooo! finds members of
kindred, Welsh musical spirits, El Goodo, Los Blancos and Trecco Beis, joining hands and
overloading studio plug sockets in a display of unchallenged creative hubris. With nobody to please but themselves, the six-piece’s indulgence in sounds straddles sun-licked Californian harmonies and the torn-sneakered snottiness of New York punk making for thrilling sonic schizophrenia with only their own record collections occasionally poached.

GǼG, the production unit of Tokyo's leading club sound Monkey Timers and Okayama-based maverick producer Keita Sano, is proud to present this heavyweight, alternative, and leftfield release on the "Sound of Vast."

Over a powerful and mysterious bassline, the hypnotic A1 'Jack' builds up with sharp synth stabs, dark pads, and ACID voices taken from Ron Hardy's open reel soundtrack series Jackmaster Hater.
AA1 is followed by the obscure percussion track 'Yamato.' It is a reinterpretation of the drumming of legendary drummer Curt Cress from the German jazz-rock scene of the 80s in the context of dance music.
AA2, 'Central' takes the funky bassline of The S.O.S. Band's 1982 album 'High Hopes' and infuses it with roaring feedback, cutting guitars, and spacy synth sounds, giving it a fresh, modern twist and elevating it to the realm of cosmic disco.

Monkey Timers' love for the classics of disco, krautrock, and Chicago house, the intensity and immersion of current club music created by their real-life experience in the field, and Keita Sano's unique free-form outlandish sound techniques coexist on this 12" EP.

東京のクラブサウンドをレペゼンしてきたMonkey Timersと岡山の奇才プロデューサーKeita SanoによるプロダクションユニットGǼGが〈Sound of Vast〉より満を持して放つ超重量級オルタナティブ・レフトフィールド・ストンパー！

パワフルで不穏なベースライン上にRon Hardyのオープンリール音源シリーズJackmaster Haterから割愛した”Acid! Acid! Acid!” ヴォイスリフレインを刻み、鋭利なシンセスタブとダークなパッドでビルドアップしたヒプノティックなナンバーA1. Jackを皮切りに、80年代ドイツジャズロックシーンの伝説的ドラマーCurt Cressのドラミングをダンスミュージックの文脈で再解釈したオブスキュアなパーカッション・トラックAA1. Yamato、そしてThe S.O.S. Bandの82年作”High Hopes”のファンキーなベースラインに轟音フィードバックやカッティングギター、スペーシーなシンセサウンドで現代的なコズミックディスコへと昇華したAA2. Central。

ディスコ、クラウトロック、シカゴハウスといった古典への愛情と現場で積み重ねてきたリアルな経験が生み出す現行のクラブミュージックとしての強度と没入感、そしてKeita Sanoのフリーフォームで奇天烈なサウンドテクニックが同居した渾身の3曲を12“EPに収録。

Das Debütalbum des Künstlers Andrzej Steinbach „Portal“ enthält zwei Musikstücke, „Wartehalle“ und „Behörde“, die er Anfang 2024 in Mono im Leopold-Hoesch-Museum Düren aufgenommen hat. Dafür hat Steinbach ein Objekt („Ohne Titel (Zarge aus einer ehemaligen Behörde), 2020“) aus seiner Sammlung zu einem Instrument umfunktioniert. An den metallischen Türrahmen wurde ein Kontaktmikrofon angebracht, das die Eigenschwingungen der Zarge durch einen Verstärker und einen Schallwandler in einer Feedbackschleife zurückgibt. Mit einem zwischengeschalteten Mixer war es Steinbach möglich diese Aufladungen direkt anzusteuern und den Türrahmen in einer Art „Free Industrial Jazz“ zu spielen. In situ entstanden die beiden experimentellen Tracks „Wartehalle“ und „Behörde“, deren klanglichen Charakter Waltraud Blischke u.a. so beschreibt: „Was auf Vinyl mit Glockengeläut von außen und vibrierendem Crescendo durch Schwingungen im Inneren beginnt, diffundiert bald als Feedback, verwandelt stehende Wellen in Klänge von Nebelhörnern. (...) Eine Art rudimentäre Sprache steigt über verschiedene Stimmlagen hinauf, wirkt über Distanzen hinweg drohend, mal launisch wie ein durchnässter Kontrabass, verweilt im rhythmischen, elektrostatischen Knistern, rattert wie ein Relikt frühindustrieller Maschinerie mit Schlagzeug im Gedärm.“ Und damit rüttelt auch „Portal“ – wie alle Arbeiten Steinbachs, die im Rahmen seiner Ausstellung „Unkenntliches Metall“ vom 29.9.2024 - 19.01.2025 im Leopold-Hoesch-Museum Düren gezeigt werden – an den Festschreibungen und Sicherheiten unseres durchstrukturierten Alltags.

Lee Ranaldo and Rob Menard have been friends and collaborators for years and this split cassette release on Important Records' Cassauna label amplifies their unique musical personalities and sonic compatibility. Both artists contributed over 30 minutes of music making this a pair of mini-albums on one tape.

Ranaldo plays Farfisa, electric guitar, tres, marimba, bass and bells, taking the listener on a lyrical, hazy, ride full of life, time and echoing riff shimmer. Massive vibes from author, artist, Sonic Youth gtr slinger.

Rob Menard (Ascension Sound), delivers a mini-album of washed out, minimal lo-fi astral guitar and feedback drones. Menard founded the 20 Guitar Circular Wall Of Angelic Sound and practices vibrational frequency healing.

2024 Repress

The unassuming maestro of techno music Donato Dozzy returns to Tresor Records on its 30th year with a new EP entitled 124.

The record follows a majestic appearance on the Tresor 30 anniversary compilation and his expert devotion to the Roland TB-303, Filo Loves The Acid. True to form, 124 meddles sharp rhythmic minimalism and diverse textures, each track pushing at the epiphanic threshold as the boss of Spazio Disponibile allows his deeply intuitive productions to take effect.

messy kafka world introduces a frenetic and concentrated atmosphere of rhythmic forces, hallucinatory and euphoric in effect. Its dizzying staccato loops are given structure by strengthening beats and bleak synthetic pillars. synthi chase emits radical powers, as buzzing rhythms and monotone synths make raw gestures towards altered states. It shares a kindred spirit with cassiopeia 36, seen in particular through its determined and primitive pulses, nested within wobbling wood percussion and nervous synth repetitions. wooden dolls don’t cry stamps a warm groove, its tempered percussion taking centre stage as shimmering melodic loops threaten spiralling feedback.

These dark, hypnotic tracks are flawlessly programmed to cast mesmeric momentums onto club floors and into loosened limbs. 124 represents Donato Dozzy ever-expanding his powers and musical freedom. His innate groove and inventive sound design push minimal and serene techno with a substantial weight and voice that sets him apart from others.

This release documents the coming together of two fallible musical instrument systems and their creator-operators. In June 2023, Graham Dunning's Mechanical Techno and Sam Underwood's Acoustic Modular System took a train journey to Galerie Paradise in Nantes, France. Following a period of exploration, points of cohesion, jeopardy and happenstance were exploited to create these nine unruly pieces that appeared initially on the ultra-limited vinyl release on the gallery’s record label. Now they celebrate a new pressing of Beaux Timbres on Accidental.

Using innovative methods, they create abstract, rhythmical and textural experimental soundscapes. Graham uses an extended turntable: a regular DJ turntable with numerous sensors, modified vinyl records and synthesizers creating irregular rhythmic patterns. Sam presents his Acoustic Modular System: a device for creating acoustic sounds with bellows, feedback and chaotic sequencers.