Cerca:first fragment

Los Angeles duo crushed announce their signing to Ghostly International and the first vinyl pressing of their 2023 debut EP, extra life. A love letter to `90s radio, the first collaboration from musicians Bre Morell and Shaun Durkan finds them tuning a shared taste for maximalist dream pop. Open-hearted hooks and melodic riffs move through a haze of breakbeats, spliced sound design, and distortion. Faithful yet fluid in its channeling of golden age alt-rock, Britpop, trip-hop, and electronica, there's a refreshing freedom to the sound, which quickly resonated with fans and critics upon initial release. Pitchfork called it "effortless, widescreen dream pop that's serene without being sentimental," and NPR cited its "deep sense of place and time." The music also struck Ghostly, and the first measure for crushed and their new label home is to give extra life a wider physical release paired with remixes from band favorites Real Lies and DJ Python. The story of crushed is written across midnight transmissions. In the early 2010s, Morell, who fronts the band Temple of Angels (Run For Cover Records), hosted a graveyard shift college radio show and used to play music from Durkan's former band Weekend (Slumberland Records). In 2020, Durkan, having focused on production work (Tamaryn, Young Prisms) following Weekend's run as a formidable shoegaze act, hosted a late-night program on a community radio station in San Francisco. Driving one day, he heard Temple of Angels by chance and was immediately drawn to Morell's voice. He added a song that night to his on-air tracklist. Morell saw it and reached out to thank him and point to that connection made a decade earlier. The exchange sparked a long-distance project. First, they filled an audible moodboard with `90s classics from the likes of Natalie Imbruglia, Sneaker Pimps, and The Sundays. Songs that transported them back to places of comfort and discovery; Morell's memories of a metallic, lavender boombox that dispatched past sounds from a world beyond her Houston suburbia, and Durkan, in his mom's car on the way to band practice. These touchpoints provided a palette for crushed to experiment without expectations, purely for the fun of it. A creative intimacy emerged; stepping outside the reverb walls of her full band, Morell embraced more clarity and a range of emotions in her vocals, while Durkan looked inward as a producer, collaging fragments from their everyday lives: voice memos, piano recordings, even the panting of Morell's late dog on "milksugar." The wistful ballad embodies extra life's feeling as a whole. "I am home again," sings Morell; her refrain cycles above a drum machine beat as Durkan colors their universe with star-lit strums, synth swells, and the crackle of fireworks in the distance. Elsewhere, the duo's uptempo mode is equally effective, like the super-charged duet "coil" or the propulsive opener "waterlily," which sets a cinematic tone for the set. Bold, bright, and replayable, extra life presents crushed as a project of immense promise, two artists unlocking something special within themselves, a space to hold both melancholy and bliss. Durkan adds, "To me, extra life is true and pure - in a way I haven't felt about music in a really really long time."

The founders of Cukor Bila Smert’ (Ukrainian: Цукор– Біла Смерть, English: Sugar – White Death) band were Svitlana Okhrimenko (a.k.a. Svitlana Nianio), Oleksandr Kohanovs’kyi, and Tamila Mazur, who studied at the Reinhold Glier Kyiv Academy of Music in 1984-1988. In the summer of 1988, they got acquainted with Eugene Taran, a young guitarist and artist. He joined the band and also became the ideologist of Sugar – White Death. Moreover, Eugene coined the name for the band: the irony towards the Yellow Press. The musicians gathered at Kohanovs’kyi’s house, where they spent their free time not only playing music but also listening to and discussing new records and thinking about the conception of their new project.



For two years, the band recorded a few home-made albums, such as “Rhododendrons Coral Aspides” in 1988 (which is considered lost), where Kostyantyn Dovzhenko took part as a guitarist and sound engineer. He also replaced Taran during the recording session because Eugene was passing an exam at that time. The band also recorded another album – “Lilies and Amaralises,” in 1989, which is also considered lost. Eugene remembers that the band made a lot of recordings but did not pay so much attention to them. Sugar – White Death played live occasionally but spent more time creating their own sound, which was named by Oleksii Dekhtyar (a founder of “Ivanov Down”) as a “sugar calypso sound.” At that time, the music was mostly created by Oleksandr Kohanovs’kyi, and the lyrics were written by Svitlana Okhrimenko and Eugene Taran.



In February 1990, a quartet came to the Scientists House Studio in Kyiv, where they had one studio session only, recorded by Valerii Papchenko. Musicians played live for about one take. This session was represented on the “Mannered Music” compilation by several blocks – “Venus with Long Neck,” “The New Sissies,” and “Rhododendrons Coral Aspides,” which was shortened to “Rhododendrons” on the cassette (two songs from which – “Summer Will Not Come” and “The Great Hen-Yuan’ River,” dedicated to Grigorii Khoroshylov, the sinologist from Kyiv). The compilation cover design was created by Eugene Taran. Later, this tape got to Vlodek Nakonechnyj, the founder of Koka Records, a young Polish label, who released “Mannered Music” on cassettes and made efforts to invite Sugar – White Death to play several gigs in Poland.



In November 1990, Sugar – White Death played their last gig as a quartet in Kharkiv. They were invited by Sergii Myasoyedov, who curated the art association “Nova Scena” (The New Scene). The band played selected tracks from the albums “The New Sissies” and “The Shellfishes in Gold Wrappers” (the last one is also considered lost). Due to Sergii Myasoyedov's efforts, the performance was documented: he saved a lot of photos and fragments of soundboard recordings on reel-to-reel tape.



Later, Oleksandr Kohanovs’kyi and Tamila Mazur left Sugar – White Death: Oleksandr founded his own project Pan Kifared, and Tamila became a bass player of Shake Hi-Fi (whose co-founder was Eugene Taran). Sugar became a duo of Svitlana and Eugene. They started to focus on their next work: “Antinoy Is Leaving” in late 1990.



In 1992, they were also invited by Sergii Myasoyedov for a studio session in Kharkiv, where due to the efforts of Oleksandr Vakulenko, Sugar recorded the new album called “All Secrets Of A Poem”. Some tracks from the work (“Dead Ceremony,” “Vienna Is Sleeping,” and “Untitled”) were released on their next and last album, “Selo” (“The Village”). The rest compositions were published as a part of the compilation for the first time.



In the autumn of 1992, the musicians went to Poland, where Vlodek Nakonechnyj, who wanted Sugar to come to a “real” studio, organized their last recording session. Although the journey’s beginning was unsuccessful (Eugene’s guitar was taken away by a customs officer when crossing the border), the musicians worked fast during the session at the Arek Was studio at Marki on an 8-track reel-to-reel machine. Boleslav Blazhchyk took part as a cellist, playing the parts created by Svitlana. The album was completed in three days – the musicians spent two days recording and one-day mixing, mostly done by Eugene Taran. In 1993, this work was released as “Selo” (“The Village”) album on cassette tapes by Koka Records (remastered by Tadeusz Sudnik). Later, Sugar – White Death was disbanded.



Credits:



Cukor Bila Smert’: Svitlana Okhrimenko (lyrics, keyboards, piano, vocals), Eugene Taran (lyrics, keyboards, guitar), Oleksandr Kohanovs’kyi (piano, A1-B2), Tamila Mazur (cello, A1-B2), Boleslaw Blaszczyk (cello, C5-D6)

Cover photo by Vlad Urazovs’kiy

Photo archive courtesy: Vlad Urazovs’kiy, Vlodek Nakonechnyj (Koka Records),

Oleh Yuhrinov, Sergii Myasoyedov

Audio archive courtesy: Vlodek Nakonechnyj (Koka Records), Guido Erfen,

Sergii Myasoyedov

Liner notes: Vlad Yakovlev

Compiled by Dmytro Nikolaienko, Dmytro Prutkin and Sasha Tsapenko

© ? Shukai / Cukor Bila Smert’

2024

Farbige Vinylpressung für den Indiehandel mit Bonus 7" mit den digitalen Singles "Tag" und "Lucky" auf der A-Seite und dem bisher unveröffentlichten Song "Thanks" auf der B-Seite. Wiederveröffentlichung des selbstbetitelten Debütalbums der texanischen Band, Teethe, die zwischen Dallas und Austin lebt. Ihr gleichnamiges Debütalbum entstand im Laufe des Jahres 2020 und ist eine Sammlung von Songs, die im Laufe der Zeit zusammengefügt wurden - eine Klangcollage aus fragmentierten Aufnahmen und halbfertigen Tracks, die inmitten der Isolation zu einem Ganzen wurden. Das Album wurde im November 2020 zunächst ohne viel Aufsehen im Eigenverlag veröffentlicht und verbreitete sich mit seiner warmen Lo-Fi Ästhetik und den langsamen, beruhigenden Songs durch Mundpropaganda. Etwa ein Jahr später, Anfang 2022, meldete sich die Band mit dem Song "Tag" zurück, einer neuen Single, die die Aufmerksamkeit der Slowcore-Fans auf sich zog und von unwahrscheinlichen Berühmtheiten gelobt wurde. Bald folgten Tourneen mit Charlie Martin von Hovvdy, Momma, Milly, Waveform und They Are Gutting A Body Of Water. Die Band veröffentlichte eine weitere Single, "Lucky", im Herbst 2022, und kürzlich erst im Oktober 2023 die neueste Single "Moon" bei Saddle Creek im Rahmen derer 7-Inch-Serie.

Sydney, Australia- Melodic metalcore band BLOOM have announced new album Maybe In Another Life, out 15th February 2023- their first for new label, Pure Noise Records. Alongside the announcement is the release of the title track of the record, Maybe in Another Life. The track speaks to the anxiety that can be buried in fantasy. The lyrics contrast the experience of a sordid existence and the indulgence of what could have been, and what could be. The song moves from a dreaminess desire to a lament on the harshness of reality, the voice in the song is “Lost in the fantasy, Of being anyone but me.” The listener is left with a sense of longing at the climactic moments of the track, with soaring, symphonic instrumentation that fuels the words “ Let me start again, I'll make it count this time, Can I start over? Maybe in another life” "The song speaks to the characters anxieties and their methods of distracting through fantasy." says the band. "The lyrics contrast the experience of a sordid existence and the indulgence of what could have been. The song touches on a desire to lament on the harshness of reality. “Lost in the fantasy of being anyone but me”. The listener is left with a sense of longing at the climactic moments of the song with soaring, symphonic instrumentation that fuels the words “Let me start again, I’ll make it count this time. Can I start over? Maybe in another life”.

ALWAYS + FOREVER is the first compilation to be released on Do You Have Peace? collecting unreleased tracks from both new and existing artists on the label. Featuring Time Cow, YL Hooi, Teresa Winter, Jonnine, Guest, Static Cleaner Lost Reward, Hermeneia, Zaumne, Birthmark, Silzedrek, Laughter of Saints, Vessel & Rakhi Singh. Originally imagined as a project to link together the dream pop related leanings of a disparate group of artists, as the project grew it became more amorphous but still kept a strange and half awake quality throughout. The pop leanings are still there, although often buried under slabs of reverb, but there are also less heavy lidded bedroom confessionals, as well as DIY chamber pieces and teary eyed instrumental passages. Most of the vocal-led tracks are in the first half of the album, leaving the second section to drift fully into hypnagogic sedative territory. Where vocals do come in they are more like half remembered fragments of dream speech than any kind of traditional narrative. The voices eventually leave us completely, drifting through 3 chamber pieces, reclaiming the classical arrangements of strings / piano / etc from the lofty heights of concert halls and scores to something more intimate and familiar, a box room in a flat, or a bedroom, a memory of lying awake staring at the ceiling and trying to go to sleep again.

tapetopia 010 FO 32 extra hart arbeitendes rastermaterial für kontakt did not emerge from the usual underground milieu – their setting was the base of the 4th Flotilla of the GDR People’s Navy! The propaganda unit PrK 18 had among its recruits some who turned the logistics for agitation against the intentions of the system. Inside a barracks, but under the state radar, the paramilitary music corps FO 32 boarded an NVA studio and recorded industrial tracks and dark ambient. The experimental military band gave an illegal concert; they had previously been heard on the radio programme “Parocktikum”, a pirate gig from the ranks of the People’s Navy on GDR radio. In 1989, a first FO-32 tape was shared among just a few friends. Shortly after, an abridged mix of material was released on the illegal Trash Tape label in an edition of no more than one hundred copies. The vinyl version on tapetopia is based on the original tape. The tapetopia series, using the original layouts and track lists, publishes cassette editions from the GDR underground of the 1980s, especially from the “walled-in” scene in East Berlin. More than three decades after their initial “release”, these tapes have yet to be heard on either vinyl or CD, even though they made an audible mark in the canon of GDR subculture. Despite the tiny original editions of the time, many of the bands were considered cult in countercultural circles, which made them highly suspect in informed circles.

The heavyweight trio of Keiji Haino, Jim O’Rourke and Oren Ambarchi return with their 12th and most epic release to date, the triple LP With pats on the head, just one too few is evil one too many is good that's all it is. Documenting the entirety of their final performance at the dearly departed Roppongi home of Tokyo underground institution SuperDeluxe in November 2018, the music spread across these six sides splits the difference between the guitar-bass-drums power trio moves and experiments with novel instrumentation that have defined the trio’s decade of working together. Containing some of the most delicate music the three have committed to wax since the gorgeous 12-string acoustic guitar and dulcimer tones of Only wanting to melt beautifully away is it a lack of contentment that stirs affection for those things said to be as of yet unseen (BT011), this wide-ranging release also offers up some of their most blistering free rock performances yet.

The side-long opening piece finds Haino on a single snare drum in duet with O’Rourke on unamplified electric guitar, playing in the lovely post-Bailey vein heard on his classic 90s recordings with Henry Kaiser and Mats Gustafsson. Spiky dissonance and ringing harmonics interweave with flowing melodic fragments as Haino single-mindedly explores the resonance of the snare like an untutored Han Bennink. On ‘Right brain, left brain; right, left; right wing, left wing. Just how many combinations can be made from these?’, O’Rourke moves to synth and electronics, joined by Ambarchi on drums, who at first focuses on sizzle cymbals before hypnotic cycles of gentle tom rhythms combine with electronic burbles and flutters to suggest a dream collaboration between Masahiko Togashi and Jean Schwarz. Ambarchi’s percussion is then joined by Haino on wandering, overblown flute, before the man in black switches back to the snare for a bizarre, stuttering drum duet.

For the first trio performance, Haino makes another new addition to his seemingly infinite catalogue of instruments, this time a homemade contraption he refers to as ‘Strings of Dubious Reputation’. Joined by O’Rourke on increasingly spaced-out electric guitar and Ambarchi on skittering percussion, Haino’s wonky, slack strings adds a definite ‘musique brut’ edge to this side-long performance, certainly one of the most enchantingly odd in the trio’s discography. When the group reconvene for the second set, spread out across the final three sides, they seem ready to breathe fire from the first instant. O’Rourke slashes distorted chords on the six-string bass, Ambarchi breaks into his signature irregular caveman thump, and Haino squeals and squawks on heavily delayed oboe before unleashing an overpowering electrical storm when he first picks up the guitar. For over half an hour, the trio pound out one of their most relentless performances, a constantly rearranging kaleidoscope of tortured fuzz guitar, insanely busy bass riffing and propulsive, tumbling drums. A hushed atmosphere initially reigns on the final long piece, given the mournful title ‘There are always things I wish to say but I can only convey them in this language August 6 August 9’. Haino’s clean guitar strumming calls up the shimmering tones of his PSF classic Affection, gradually building to a surging wall of sound, bass and drums lumbering through a roar of jet-engine guitar. Arriving in a deluxe trifold package with photos by Lasse Marhaug alongside inner sleeves with extensive live images, this epic release is perhaps the most remarkable document yet of this unique trio’s stamina and continuing inventiveness.

Following their contribution to the 2022 International Women’s Day compilation, and a co-production credit on “Dreaming is Essential” by Byron Yeates, Eoin DJ drops their first release on Radiant Records, Total Body. The 4-track EP is replete with mind-bending, lustrous tracks waiting to be spun out to sweatbox dancefloors.

“Total Body” invites movement from its first seconds. Layers and layers of snares, shakers and rhythmic synth stabs build tension before the pulse of a rolling bassline cements the elements into a cohesive hard house groove. Fragments and chops of sensx’s vocals wrap in and around the sonic field, leaving wisps of reverb and echo in their wake before repeating the track’s Total Body mantra in the breakdown. The result is a lushly-scored density of sound, with a relentless stomp that never feels overcrowded or too heavy.

Angel D’lite’s remix takes a more skeletal approach to “Total Body”: a snare and clap march beneath chiming vocal stabs, rumbling low end and rolling breakbeats, flipping the original into a modern bass-heavy hybrid number. The rhythmic synth from the original, reversed and efex’d, ushers us in, and then out of the track, around extra bass stabs and pitch shifted “Total Body” chops.

On the B side, “Ultra Soft” lifts off with a firm kick and a rolling 3-note bassline. Despite the title, the track hits harder than “Total Body” and sings with Eoin DJ signatures: swirling funnels of processed vocals, rich, ear-itching textures, stripped back percussion and rave-ready samples are sprinkled with 303s, to create a track that sits comfortably with both classic trance and techno and contemporary “Progressive” dance music.

The EP’s closer, a remix of “Ultra Soft” by Byron Yeates, compresses the astrally-inclined scale of the original track into shining slices of sound. A playful, chiming melody starts off the track alongside the kick, working through precise grooves, knife-sharp snares, a throbbing bass and chopped-up, smokey vocals. The result: 6 minutes of total embodiment from the Radiant Records boss.

In 2020, Pali Meursault and Thomas Tilly collaborated to create Radio Glaces, a fourteen-part sound collection featuring recordings of glaciers in the Alps and testimonies from people who have a close relationship with this environment: glaciologists, geomorphologists, hut wardens, mountaineers and high-mountain guides.

As a continuation of this first project, Melt* was a series of improvised performances by the duo of sound artists, playing back the sounds and vibrations of the glaciers as they conducted a microphonic auscultation of the crevasses, rimayes and torrents of the Oisans mountain range.

The outcome of a research project that began over three years ago and is still ongoing, Melt* is based on the recording of a concert at GMEA (Albi) in early 2023, and is available as a vinyl record published by Fragment Editions.

Credits

Sound recordings made in 2020 on the glaciers of Mont-de-Lans, la Girose, Sarenne, la Pilatte and Saint-Sorlin (Oisans-Écrins, France), for the Radio Glaces project.

Field recordings, sonified ice, processing and sine waves played live by Pali Meursault & Thomas Tilly at Grand Théâtre d’Albi on February 4th, 2023, in the frame of ‘L’Expérience du Terrain’, a program by GMEA.

Recording by Benjamin Maumus. Mastering and Cut by Frédéric Alsdat/Ångström.

Aiko T. is a concept, an entity, a ghost that appears only through her own music.

"I’ve released various materials over the years under other names, Aiko has been materialized in 2022 through self-published music and with IIKKI it's the first official release that I am very proud of. Despite this, Aiko has been publishing in other forms since 2020, but always within the sphere of ambient music.

This album was born as a long-lasting sound continuum. It was then cut, stitched together and reassembled to give shape and restore unity from the fragments, in order to have an album that shows its completeness halfway between the titles and the compositions themselves. Contrary to what it may seem, it is not born from a concept and does not want to be. The titles were chosen in a poetic, almost naïve way, the sounds of these creatures led me to believe that they could be divided into different distinct phases of the day. What I want to communicate with the titles is just what came to mind in a moment of reflection, a very simple thing, that sometimes time passes too quickly, and the moments we spend with our loved ones could always be better, it could have been a beautiful morning, afternoon, evening or night." - Aiko Takahashi

Music crafted by Aiko Takahashi with laptop and various music devices, analogue and otherwise

'Of No Fixed Abode' gathers fragmented recordings by the Madrid duo of Pablo Mirón and Juan Vacas, the multi-disciplinary artists behind the collective Real No Real (realnoreal.org) and Ediciones Fontenebro label. Working with field recordings, found materials, instruments such as Violin and Harmonica and by manipulating old radios, turntables and reel to reels the pair have been performing across the world of late taking their collage style process with them. 'Of No Fixed Abode' uses cross-continental sound diaries from the 2019-2022 period and has been central to shows at venues and festivals around Europe and South America.

Contributing to the wider field of post-fluxus 'broken music', the duality of natural sound and decaying, processed tape loops along with gentle instrumentation across the record follows in the footsteps of the Dieter Roth school, Anne Gillis, Leyland Kirby or Henry Krutzen yet is anchored in a charming restraint in which each element seems to fall into place perfectly. Miradasvacas have a long history with presenting experimental music through shows on Madrid's Radio Relativa, concerts and gatherings across the city and self-published mixtapes and sound art, though debut here on 12th Isle with their first proper album. Far-flung gallery sonics at their finest.

Much has been written about Young Marble Giants' small, perfect catalogue, which contained roughly two-dozen songs, nearly each one a perfect gem. Less is known about his long wilderness years after the break-up of his first professional band. His next project, The Gist, chopped YMG's minimalism into a new sound. This Is Love, Public Girls and Fool For A Valentine showed his songs to be razor-sharp, but the album's fragmented pieces were a step too far for some, though even the strangest, Carnival Headache, when cast in sunlight by Alison Statton's combo Weekend, was as fine a song as any he'd written - and Love At First Sight became a million-seller when covered by Etienne Daho. Then Stuart disappeared. A rmid-90s resurgence led to fine albums done on low budgets, before more silence followed. The Gist's 2018's release Holding Pattern - unexpected and then quickly followed by YMG singer Alison Statton's first new album with her accompanist Spike in two decades, adding fuel to public interest. The Devil Laughs, recorded a few years back, is a compelling addition to the canon of the 21st century songwriting. Stuart's generally unadorned musical presentation does not hinder his appreciation for the skills of Louis Philippe, whose iconic arrangements across an array of Él label albums inspire the fierce devotion of aficionados around the world. Nor does the unvarnished solidity of Stuart's arrangements deter Louis from hearing possibilities for their presentation in styles which take inspiration from the perfection of 1960's studio technology that led to the rise of Brian Wilson, Burt Bacharach, along with less-recognised names such as Bones Howe and Roy Halee. Tidy Away is Young Marble Giants redux, though the backing vocals hint at maturity which band didn't live to see. Fighting To Lose, written with producer Ken Brake, would pass as a worthy b-side to Bridge Over Troubled Water, and although the songs are otherwise Stuart's, Louis fans will delight at several, like Love Hangover and Sky Over Water, which display his style and production genius as succinctly as anything on his own albums. The Devil Laughs is as out of its time as Colossal Youth was - its subtle but immediate beauty, devoid of "rock", is a recording best understood in the light of those obscure groundbreakers who inspired it - the faux barbershop vocals of Smile-era Beach Boys, the studio lustre of Tom Wilson's work with Simon & Garfunkel, a dash of The Swingle Sisters and French chanson - along with enough hints of Young Marble Giant's modernist folk abstraction to satisfy longtime fans. The Devil Laughs is a small masterpiece of pure expression.

‘Demos/sketches/interludes from the hinterland between records. Drum machines and single take vocal sketches tied together with downtime synth experiments and recordings of local disappearing areas.’ True as it is, Jabu’s strap-line is a somewhat understated take on what also proved to be a transformative experience for them. The follow-up record to their 2020 sophomore LP ‘Sweet Company’ (and the ensuing ‘Versions’), ‘Boiling Wells’ weaves a smudged, group -mind spell. Originally released earlier this year without fanfare as a digital-only release, it now receives the proper release attention it deserves, issued in a neatly packaged vinyl edition of 300 copies. Dreamlike, woozy, raw and in dub, the album documents a blossoming process, and encapsulates a fragment in time - holed up in the country, soaking up the atmosphere in collective isolation, creatively embracing the limitations of a small recording set-up, and finding a new way to work as a band. “My mum had gone away so we’d decided to take the mixing desk and a couple of drum machines out to her house and set it up in the front room. We did it a couple of times to get the bulk of the tunes on 'Boiling Wells' done, one in summer and one boozy one around Christmas. I think we all immediately enjoyed working that way, sat around all together, more of an immediate thing. Jas started to play a lot more guitar, her and Al would write lyrics on the fly or be programming a drum beat in or something. We were all switching around and getting ideas down really quickly, not worrying too much if they were good or not. The music was limited by the stuff we had there, I didn’t bring a big desk so we only had six channels or so, and everything was basically just recorded in as a stereo take so we were more or less stuck with it after we’d laid it down - which was nice too. I don’t think we would’ve changed them anyway; it was the sound of the room and of us doing it together in the moment that was really important.” There has always been a collaborative heart to Jabu, though its nature has shifted and morphed over time. In their earliest incarnation, in after-school jams, Alex Rendall would rap over Amos Childs’ beats, but by the time they began releasing music in 2012, Al had found his singing voice – a sweet, soulful counterpoint to Amos’ increasingly dub-wise, experimental backing. Both are founder members of Bristol’s Young Echo, a collective of friends and musicians first operating loosely together on radio shows, artistic collaborations and events, and later on, running a record label. As expansive as their original remit was, Young Echo has steadily evolved since featuring in The Wire’s 2013 cover feature on Bristol’s new school of post-dubstep bass music. Of late, Seb (aka Vessel) has been working with violinist Rakhi Singh on string arrangements for Jabu, and the upcoming residency at Bermondsey’s MOT will showcase relative newcomers Birthmark and Intel Mercenary alongside the regular crew. Jabu’s debut album proper, ‘Sleep Heavy’, arrived in 2017 courtesy of Blackest Ever Black. A sublime, focused meditation on grief and loss written largely by Amos and Al, it marked the debut of Jasmine Butt (aka Guest), adding a further layer of vocal texture to their palette. ‘Sweet Company’, their first album written as a trio (released via their own do you have peace? label), drifted into lighter, more ethereal introspection. Featuring guest appearances by Sunun and Daniela Dyson, remixes by Equiknoxx’s Time Cow and Young Echo ‘s Ossia teased out the inherent pop and dub sensibilities respectively. Recent times have also seen remixes by kindred spirits Seekers International and Jay Glass Dubs, and a collaboration with the renowned T.S. Eliot Prize-winning dub Poet and musician Roger Robinson on a pair of plaintive, aching 7” singles. Jabu’s broad raft of inspirations can be experienced first -hand on their monthly NTS Radio show ‘Music 4 Lovers’, co -hosted by long-time friend and soul afficionado Andy Payback. A celebration of the endless tapestry of interrelated musical connections, it runs parallel to Jabu’s own reinterpretation of their influences. For ‘Boiling Wells’, Amos remembers a diet of “A.R. Kane, Cocteau Twins, DJ Screw, Southern/Memphis rap mixtapes, early 90’s jungle, Karen Dalton, Sybille Baier, Vashti Bunyan, Svitlana Nianio, a lot of soul, Armand Hammer & Alchemist, Grouper, Bobby Caldwell. Jazz was a constant, Japanese, Polish, Latin, American…”. And from those diverse strands, something new and singular has formed, to line up alongside them. ‘Boiling Wells (Demos ‘19-’22)’ is released by UK newcomer Six of Swords in a limited vinyl edition of 300 copies, pressed on black vinyl housed in full colour 270 gsm matt varnish sleeve and black paper inner, with full download coupon

This is a presentation of Xexa's different sensibilities as a composer, musician and sound designer, mapping what are in effect her initial explorations with voice, rhythms, synths, ambience, ever searching for an organic final result. As a student at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama (London) between 2019 and a still fresh 2023, she presented in her third year a portfolio that included what we can now listen as "Clarinet Mood", the final track on "Vibrações De Prata". Her intention was to «study the feeling of listening to music as an environment one inhabits and not as a sound that follows you throughout the day. Walk into, instead of listening to, an ambience». With no previous clarinet training, Xexa explores its palpable sound as a physical doorway to this realm.

Four other tracks ("Assim", "Nha Dêdê", "Fragmented Breath" and "Prendes Nh'Alma") formed part of what she named the 2021 Sound Calendar. Out of a (natural) total of 12 compositions, these four connect with other intimate moments to tell a broader story, one of fragility, «like a flower about to bloom, we can detect first glimpses of colour and form but can't yet divine its final form».

This sort of imaginative sonic micro-management can also be found on "Libelula", where the synth attempts to recreate the beating of a dragonfly's wings. Minute details are a major feature in jewelry, an art Xexa studied in her native Lisbon's António Arroio school. Free spirited as she is, Lisbon is merely a geographical location where she was born, no particular feeling of being Portuguese attached to her position in the world. So far, Xexa's origins in São Tomé and Príncipe and a prolonged stint in London (it feels prolonged, at such a young age) are the two other major environments that form her experience as a human being but also as an artist. We are extremely proud to have been able to access truly special creative, intimate moments and help bring out into the world this physical manifestation of beautiful contemporary music.

Released in 1996, Le Onde "The Waves" was the first solo piano album released by Ludovico Einaudi. The incredible work featured the following quote from the man himself. "If it were a story it would be set on the seafront of a long beach. A beach without beginning and without end. The story of a man who walks along this shore and perhaps never meets anyone. His gaze lingers occasionally to look at some object or fragment brought from the sea. The footprints of a crab or a solitary seagull. I always take the sand, the sky, some clouds, the sea. Only the waves change, always the same and different, smaller. larger. Shorter. Longer." Now released on Blue Vinyl for the very first time.

Released in 1996, Le Onde "The Waves" was the first solo piano album released by Ludovico Einaudi. The incredible work featured the following quote from the man himself. "If it were a story it would be set on the seafront of a long beach. A beach without beginning and without end. The story of a man who walks along this shore and perhaps never meets anyone. His gaze lingers occasionally to look at some object or fragment brought from the sea. The footprints of a crab or a solitary seagull. I always take the sand, the sky, some clouds, the sea. Only the waves change, always the same and different, smaller. larger. Shorter. Longer." Now released on Blue Vinyl for the very first time.

Seoul duo Salamanda arrive on Wisdom Teeth with their latest and most focused LP yet: 'In Parallel' - a vividly textural and immersive record that brings a new level of clarity to their typically psychedelic, expansive approach. Since arriving in 2019, the pair - comprised of friends Uman Therma (aka Sala) and Yetsuby (aka Manda) - have been fast at work mapping out their elaborate, dream-state sonic world - prolifically honing their sound across four albums and over a dozen singles to date. Across their already-extensive discography the pair have established a few key calling cards. Mallet instruments and tuned drums play out playful music-box melodies. Thick washes of gaseous ambience invoke otherworldly or ancient soundscapes. And buried fragments of found sound and manipulated vocal give their otherwise synthetic compositions a warm sense of first-person narrative. Ambient and Reich-school minimalism are the music’s most obvious sonic touchstones - yet the pulse of contemporary club and pop music have never been totally out of earshot. All of these themes come in to play here - but 'In Parallel' signals a step well beyond Salamanda’s work to date. Since 2022’s 'ashbalkum' (released on Wisdom Teeth alumni Tristan Arp’s label, Human Pitch), the duo have toured extensively: at classical institutions like London’s Kings Place as well as DIY club dens like Manchester’s White Hotel, all via a series of globally renowned festivals like Mutek, Nachti and Dekmantel. Their creative set-up has grown steadily alongside to incorporate a whole suite of new machines, processes and perspectives, taking their music in bold new directions in the process. The clearest development here is in the duo’s use of vocals - a shift that has been slowly taking place over their last few records, but that comes to a head on In Parallel. The album’s lead single 'Homemade Jam' is the closest the duo have come to writing an all-out pop track: its buoyant beat and autotuned vocals sounding like something SOPHIE and Charli XCX could have written after a particularly potent batch of mushroom tea. It’s a razor-sharp slice of alt-pop that offers a mouthwatering first look at what happens when Salamanda’s sprawling, unbridled creative energy is distilled right down into something concentrated and polished. At other points their sonic explorations lead them to embrace a more upfront approach to rhythm, skirting closer than ever before to the dancefloor in the process. The meandering drums and vocal chops on 'Paper Labyrinth' are underpinned by a firm 4x4 pulse, while the dembow groove of 'Tonal, Fluid' would feel right at home in a Nick León or DJ Plead set. 'In Parallel' is a record about connection, and the warmth and nostalgic simplicity of friendship is felt vividly throughout. Its title refers to the harmony the duo have found between them as friends and collaborators - and sonic parallels are traced throughout the record as testament to this. Motifs come and go before reappearing at later points: take, for example, the melody underpinning ‘Sun Tickles’, which returns in a different key and tempo on album closer ‘Mysterious Wedding’. Parallel lines are traced between each artist and through their music, linking back to their past and pointing ahead to the future. Only Salamanda know where these will take us next.

Faitiche releases the album Improvisations And Edits, Tokyo 26.09.2001 on vinyl for the first time. For the original 2002 CD on Soup-Disk and Sub Rosa (Audiosphere), Jan Jelinek and the Japanese trio Computer Soup (Satoru Hori – trumpet, Osamu Okubo - toys & electronics, Kei Ikeda - toys & electronics) presented eight tracks all recorded one afternoon in the trio’s living room in Tokyo. They are excerpts from a joint group improvisation that subsequently underwent rudimentary editing, on which Jelinek and Computer Soup worked separately.

Jelinek met the three musicians at his first concert in Japan in 2001, at Tokyo’s Yellow club, where Computer Soup performed as the support act. Delighted by their free improvisation on pocket-sized electronic toys, trumpet and oscillators, he arranged to meet Hori, Okubo and Ikeda a few days later for a session at their apartment. The resulting three-hour recording, made on their living room floor, formed the basis for Improvisations and Edits. A few days later, Jelinek returned to Berlin. Over the following months, they separately chose passages from the recording that were then edited and assembled into an album.

Formed in Tokyo in 1996 as a quintet (including Shusaku Hariya and Daisuke Oishi), Computer Soup began by performing with acoustic instruments on the streets of Shibuya. Ikeda und Okubo soon switched instruments, and from then on the group’s minimalistic but densely woven sound was defined by electronic toys, oscillators and Satoru Hori’s trumpet. Their first album was released in 1997 on the Japanese label Soup Disk. Eight further releases followed.

From the reviews of Improvisations and Edits, Tokyo 26.09.2001 in 2003:

"The mind-blowing first track Straight Life is perhaps the best example of what the album has to offer. Jelinek's trademark smears and washes occupy the midrange, like ghosted images of Joe Zawinul's electric piano floating quietly in the wind. DSP jazz modes are set against a walking bassline (possibly computer generated) and a gently tooted trumpet complete with Harmon mute, a dead ringer for Miles Davis' Prestige-era ballads. The effect is something like a three-dimensional film, with different realities on each layer; images of what jazz was manage to interact with a real-time demonstration of all it could be."
pitchfork, 2003

"Improvisations and Edits is a warm and mellow Ambient release with beautiful glitch fragments, static noise bursts and real trumpet intersections. However, there are times where it is the exact opposite, mainly effect-laden, overdriven and bouncy with a lack of melodies and focus, so be aware of these specific tracks."
ambientexotica, 2003

"Often deliciously dreamy and hazy, Improvisations and Edits is like listening to an exceptional instrumental jazz performance while half-conscious or under some sort of chemical influence. Computerised blips and bleeps, loops and treatments and murky sonic skips curl up around desolate horn notes and scattered instrumental noises that culminate in elegant music."
exclaim.ca, 2003

After two years, Carl and Andreas present their second album, and once again, it opens up a wide associative space for us. What strikes us initially is the uncommon instrumentation: a church organ, harpsichord, glass tubes, and more. Like their first album (The Aporias of Futurism), it is mysterious and dark. But it also carries a strong touch of rebellion and adrenaline, sometimes quite pointedly. The pieces are now shorter and feature intricate yet irresistible rhythms. The impact is immediate, yet it maintains a sense of solemnity and ceremony. The Apollonian complexity of the rhythms and subtle melodic interweavings is transformed into a Dionysian, ecstatic, hypnotic, and at times tribal context. "Music for Unknown Rituals" oscillates between primitive instincts and avant-garde intrigues.

The process began in Döblitz, a small village on the Saale river in Germany, inside an old church that houses an organ built in 1886 by Johann Adolph Ibach. Carl and Andreas gained access and secluded themselves there for a few days, accompanied by the organ, an instrument made of glass tubes, and a set of modular synthesizers. After recording the basic tracks in Döblitz, the work continued in Munich and Berlin. Carl played electric guitars, harpsichord, bass, metallophone, xylophone, Indian harmonium, and various percussive instruments. Andreas added layers of electronic sounds, noises, and atmospheric drones. He also created percussive structures extracted and derived from recorded material of technical and industrial noises, which contrasted with the acoustic drums played by Carl. The antithetical approach continues with the dichotomous arrangement of the instruments, often panned hard left and right in the stereo field, creating an antiphonic communication. Some parts, especially the use of the electric guitar, evoke memories of the psychedelic sixties. However, this is anything but a nostalgic album—these musical references are merely remnants, set pieces, and fragments used from a contemporary, post-modern, post-youth-cultural, and post-romantic perspective.

Although Andreas and Carl continue on their chosen path of composing music with an almost literary narrative structure, this album is conceptually and formally completely different from their first effort. If “The Aporias of Futurism” was a revolutionary manifesto (in a pataphysical sense), "Music for Unknown Rituals" is more like the implementation in action; it is the practical application of the previous statement. To put it another way, if "The Aporias of Futurism” was the conceptual manifesto of a dark utopia of modernity, "Music for Unknown Rituals" is the staging of free will surrendering to the myths and catharsis of a Greek tragedy. And in response to this, the artwork features a leitmotif of histrionics with hands, the hands being the first and intuitive part of the body to express something: a ritual, a prayer, a defeat...

— Andreas Gerth is one half of Driftmachine, and Carl Osterhelt is part of F.S.K and collaborates with Hans-Joachim Irmler of Faust. Both became connected through their participation in the Tied & Tickled Trio.

Sven Torstenson's notorious Drugs is a loopdigga's fever dream, bursting with breaks for days and featuring possibly the most iconic cover of all library music's cult classics. First released in 1980, it's now a hyper-rare and seriously sought-after electronic album full of experimental soundscapes and samples just waiting to be flipped. It's both terrifying and terrifyingly good. So much so, it's been brilliantly sampled by Kendrick Lamar and Chance The Rapper.

The sleeve describes Drugs as containing "the newest dimensions of electronic sounds. Dramatic underscores for all problems of today's life and society, at the border between reality and delusion." That's pretty spot-on. The fast moving "Euphoria" is an incredible, unignorable opener. It's loaded with disorientating effects and really needs to be heard to be believed. It's followed by the gorgeous "Soft Hallucinations", containing quiet, meditative and beautiful sounds - as the title suggests. One listen and you'll want to live in the warm embrace of this beatless, harmonic gem. Sinister squelchy synth stabs don't distract from the sheer beauty of the track's main (gentle) thrust. They only serve to elevate its trippy magic.

Next up, "Sky Move"'s agitated and repetitive rhythm makes it an intense listen but with a broad melody that will appeal to many. "Destroyed Dreams" utilises a muffled church organ and it sounds heavenly to begin with but it gradually invites increasingly distorted elements. Yes, you've had trips like this, we're pretty certain. Mental! Talking of bad trips, never have they sounded so good as "Horror Trip"; this fractured drama-synth just needs some some dusty beats to hold it up - get involved.

"Floating Illusions" almost sounds like a beatless Spiritualized bomb from the early-mid 90s; melodic, synthy, church organ-drenched. The mournful, dramatic "Lost Chance" pulses along on a bed of acidy synths whilst "The Morning After" is the sonic equivalent of the extreme fear and doom experienced in the aftermath of the previous night's carnage. Whilst somewhat uncomfortable listening, again, it's pretty compelling thanks to the myriad effects being expertly utilised. Fascinating. The sprawling, fragmented "Random Thoughts" is described as containing "confused melody phrases" - yeah, pretty much sums this one up.

The B-Side is ushered in by "Heroin" and it's as sketchy as you might think, all mysterious minor chords with a dominating - but not overbearing - bass refrain. Next up, the dream-like synthy fanfare of "Night Trip" climaxes after a few minutes of dramatic, ecclesiastical sounds whilst "Day Trip" layers its melody over a repetitive rhythmic base.

Next up, one of the *REAL* highlights makes itself known. Absolutely not to be missed, "Dealer's Corner" is all shifting tenors from quiet to hectic and back around again. The hectic parts are like a totally synthed-out-the-eyeballs jazz-funk collective wigging out with the latest electronic toys from 1980. This one totally SMOKES.

The dramatic "Sad And Hopeless" is appositely replete with dissonant, minor church-organ chords whilst "Riding Pegasus" uses a creepy ostinato bass melody to create irrational bleepy menace that's ripe for sampling. The penultimate track, "Hopeless Chaos" is another disorientating trip, a bleepy confection of sounds and phrases whilst closer "Goin' Mad" is all electronic percussion with an unpleasant rhthymic feel and irritating melody. Music to annoy your partner with!

Established in Munich in 1965 by Gerard and Rotheide Narholz, Sonoton introduced library music to Germany. Initially intended to cater to the country's new TV market, the library also provided an avenue for Gerhard Narholz's astonishing musical prolificacy, and soon became a haven for a wide range of European composers and musicians. In 1969, Sonoton struck a deal with the British label Berry Music for international publishing rights, exposing its catalog to a worldwide audience; when Berry was bought out by EMI in 1973, Sonoton transitioned into a full-fledged international label, with successes in the library and commercial fields and many innovations to its credit. Now a worldwide operation with hundreds of producers and composers under its employ, Sonoton nonetheless remains an independently run business still helmed by its founders - a remarkable achievement in an era when nearly every other major library has been absorbed by a multinational conglomerate.

The audio for Drugs has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original, iconic sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

PYLAR, one of the best kept secret of the Spanish underground, is a collective formed in Seville (Spain) by members of Orthodox and Blooming Látigo. With an imaginary that feeds on occult sciences, the sacred (with special attention to pagan themes) or hyperstition, PYLAR navigates the depths of mysticism and cosmic horror evoking interdimensional and abyssal sonic scenarios.
An instrumental training that incorporates percussion, guitars, keyboards, horn, violin or mandolin, to which is added vocals that intone texts by the experimental writer and philosopher Francisco Jota-Pérez, fragments extracted from occult sciences and the cult vanguard grimoire Cyclonopedia. PYLAR moves between experimental doom metal, black metal and psychedelia, creating music of dense textures by superimposing elements in the styles of Blut Aus Nord, Swans or Oranssi Pazuzu. Their first work “Poderoso se alza en my” (2013) was their letter of presentation, praised by the very Julian Cope.

Tibi Dabo returns with ‘Overture’, a from his forthcoming Crosstown Rebels album, with remixes from Map.ache and Aline Umber.

A label favourite having dropped his ‘Isla’ EP on Crosstown Rebels back in 2022, ahead of his much-anticipated debut LP comes this third superb taster from it. The superb ‘Overture’ is an eight-minute gem with super smooth percussion and elastic grooves, with wispy sci-fi chords and gentle synth modulations. It’s full of future feels and catchy drum funk that is sophisticated and smartly detailed with chopped-up vocal fragments.

First to remix is Liepzig’s Map.ache, co-founder of Kann Records and half of Manamana. His take builds with fatter drums that are just as infectious, while rippling synth loops weave in and out as flashy basslines cut loose, and balmy pads add extra cosmic absence to a hypnotic mix of the heady and the physical.

Aline Umber, a collaborative live project from French composers, producers and DJs Aline Brooklyn and Aman Umber, are second to remix. They run the Airfunk label and are no stranger to playing cult spots like Rex Club in Paris. Their ‘23% Eventide’ mix is a blissed-out and synth-laced trip with subtle, smeared chords and starry-eyed keys that have you gazing off into the distance as you get lost in the warm drums.

Explorations was born from the inquisitive spirit that Hypnotica Colectiva has always had for the world of experimental music. We can classify it as an ambitious project, based on the fact that it is the first official sub-label of HC Records, but also pointing to the musical section both on the publishing side and on the live art side. The main objective is not to adhere to any pigeonhole, seeking to cover a wide range of unconventional sounds and rhythms without straying too far from recognizable and danceable patterns. That is why we want to create space for this project on and off the track, without barriers, and with our eyes mainly set on the future.

To kickstart the project, we look within for answers, paying attention to our mother label. John and Paul Healy hide under the name of Somatic Responses, two Welsh brothers with a long and proven career in intelligent music. We won't say that they are pioneers, but they did manage to forge a characteristic sound and style that has accompanied them since they began their career in the mid-90s.

EXPLORATIONS 01 was not conceived as an LP is usually made. When contacting the artists, they sent us a large number of tracks that they thought would fit the label's preferences. From here, the Explorations team selected the 13 tracks that now come to you, trying to find the balance between the three main styles we bet on for this first release: IDM, Ambient and Drone.

"HC Records is expanding its horizons with a new parallel yet ambitious project. In an effort to broaden its recording legacy from an evolutionary perspective, the Valencian label is venturing into the field of experimental sound. This new direction signifies a rejuvenation and adaptation to a new era, where music fragments and expands towards infinite horizons. Complex compositions, abstract designs, and extreme sound treatments define this innovative approach, pushing music beyond its limits and sacrificing some of its essential properties in the process."

Ximo Noguera @Industrial Complexx

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Tender Membranes, the label’s first release from Swedish-Finnish sound artist and electro-acoustic composer Marja Ahti. Active for a decade in the Finnish underground music scene, in recent years Ahti has developed a distinctive approach to patiently unfolding electro-acoustic constructions, documented on a string of solo releases and collaborative projects with Judith Hamann and her husband Niko-Matti Ahti. Working with concrete and instrumental sounds, field recordings, and electronics, Ahti favours neither disjunctive collage nor monolithic consistency; rather, her work is composed of organically unfolding sequences of details and textures, which, as she says, ‘can stretch out or cut fast as long as they have a sense of inner stillness’, a sense that she connects to moments of heightened attention in everyday life. Tender Membranes consists of four lengthy pieces, partly inspired by the image of the senses and mind as membranes allowing for the passage between inner and outer spaces, sensation and its causes, creating a world. Ahti’s unhurried pacing encourages this sense of listening as an opening or surrender to sound, which can often create the impression that the listener is moving through a space zooming in on details. The opening Shrine (Aether) exemplifies this aspect of Ahti’s approach: a bell clears the air with a single long tone, followed by the ambience of outdoor spaces, crackling electronics, an archival recording of a horsefly on a windowpane. Dozens of these moments, varying in length, density, and intensity, move past the listener’s attention, momentarily brought into focus then slipping away. Like those of the masters of the French musique concrète tradition, Ahti’s sounds are not often recognisable, though they might suggest proximity or distance, open environments or closed spaces, the urban or rural, day or night. In Ahti’s work, we do not encounter spectacular metamorphoses à la Parmegiani but rather a state of ambiguity where the listener is often unsure what is organic and what is inorganic, where the careful productions of the synthesizer might end and sounds discovered in the environment begin. What Ahti calls her ‘poetic way of experiencing and organising the familiar and the unfamiliar’ is sustained throughout Tender Membranes, but each piece has its own character. On Dust / Light, human presence is more overt, as what appear to be whispers, singing, and distant speech thread between high frequencies, untraceable drips and pops, and metallic shimmers. In all this there is a melody that you can sing and to which you may dance makes more prominent use of musical instruments, gaining a sombre beauty from half-buried piano chords and organ tones. On the closing Oh Fragrant Witness, a delicate cloud of subtly bending pitches is repeatedly disrupted by a resounding, almost ominous mass of low tones, at once a strange detour from much of what has gone before and an almost classical finale. Arriving in a sleeve reproducing contemporary Finnish photographer Sini Pelkki’s fragmented visions of the everyday, Tender Membranes is a balm to reawaken tired ears.

Das von Cory Hanson (Drag City, Wand, Ty Segal) produzierte vierte Album der amerikanischen Rockband aus Nashville, TN um Singer-Songwriter Joe Firstman ist ein zeitloses Set aus freigeistigem, temperamentvollem Country-Rock, das sich auf Fragmente verschiedener amerikanischer und klassischer Traditionen stützt - von The Grateful Dead bis Marcel Proust -, und so erfrischend wie eine Sommerbrise, die durch die Palmen weht.

- Col. LP: (Turquoise Transparent Vinyl)

A long-in-the-works project of ours, here comes A Tribe Called Kotori's first foray into full-length territories, as the immensely talented Rampue takes us on a melancholy-riddled ride across his phantasmatic mindscapes. A true sound explorer, deftly steering his ship down the junction of electronica, abstract and balearic-infused prog house, the Berlin-based vibist has us transfixed and elevated throughout the twelve cuts that form the backbone to this lushly textured promenade in sound - at times understatedly euphoric, at others rivetingly exotic.

Of the creative process that lead to 'Bubblebath Trance', Rampue explains "It all started and ended in the same moment: my cherished feline companion, my laptop awash with an unintended bath, and alas, a dearth of backups. The resultant calamity, an echo of chaotic tranquility." Under the generous layer of irony lies some unaltered truth about Rampue's debut long-player for A Tribe Called Kotori: this sense of serenity that goes with stepping into this warm and bubbling primitive chaos of sorts infuses the listening experience far and wide. Distantly emulating the "euphonious strains" of iconic PS1 video games soundtracks from his youth days, the album has us surfing a constant paradox of emotions, wistful but not abandoning itself to sorrow, dynamic yet suspended in some sort of mind-expanding stasis. As if you were looking at the world beneath you in exploded view, conscious of all thing, slowly moving up the many layers of our atmosphere towards uncharted skies.

A paragon of Rampue's most poignant take on classic electronica tropes, 'Harmonie' blazes with a poetic fire that engulfs about everything in its wake. Just figure yourself riding a chocobo across the sand-covered expanse of North Corel (toasting to the FFVII nerds here) as this blasts out in the distance. From this trancey bubblebath emerge lots of musical shades and nuances, from the nicely dubbed-out, brass-heavy coastal jazz of 'Schattenschranz' to the choppy, trip-hop-adjacent future electronics of 'Inside', via the exuberantly joyous mess of faux-organic number 'Tripomatic' and cinematic charisma of 'Ich hasse Sonne' high-flying orchestrations.

Connecting the dots between that trance-indebted ebullience and further downtempo-friendly attraction, 'Verfahren' perhaps encompasses best what 'Bubblebath Trance' is about: gracefully walking the tightrope in-limbo nostalgia-soaked inner movements and a powerful outward thrust, burning to let the feelings ooze out from the shell that holds them.Clad in purely 90s-compatible breaksy motion, 'Salz' is another attempt to reconcile emotional and physical dissonance, like kneading all states - solid, liquid and vaporous - into an impossible mega-vibe of its own; malleable, strong and enveloping in equal measure. Borrowing from two-step and UK garage, 'Take Away' is a definite high in Rampue's master unfolding of musical twists and turns, summoning a Boarder Community-esque atmosphere and clashing it alongside floor-ready footwork motifs to fascinating effect.

An ode to his studio companion, 'Buchla Trip' finds Rampue's exploring his machinic friend's quirky yet soulful array of electronic potentialities - making it sound like a conversation you'd have with R2-D2 in the heart of a Sandcrawler, whereas 'Kajal' beams us up to a fragmented headspace, halfway altered PC-Pop and arps-loaded electronica on amphetamines. Effusive and transporting, the title-track 'Bubblebath Trance' could well figure as the album's no.1 medley in essence: a bountiful lucid dream of dancing forms, colours and sentiments to wrap your head around, confidently drifting from a liminal state of consciousness down the rapids of one's troubled inner workings.

Rounding off the package, the languid ambient finale of 'Die Leiden des hungrigen Fruehstuecks' rubber-stamps the feeling that 'Bubblebath Trance' belongs to that rare category of albums. The ones that mint their own alphabet aside from typical norms and expectations, teaching you the ropes of their new language as it unreels between your ears - real and unreal, elusive to any other meaning than the one your guts and brains will be inclined to give it to, in real time. A crystal-pure object if you will, that shall not reveal its secrets, even after a thousand listens and just as many wowing moments.

Clear Vinyl. They say there's always something special about the first time and this record is that first time for the Folk Implosion. The band left the acoustic guitars and fragmentary sketch modus operandi of their earlier cassette behind to focus on an eccentric version of home studio craft, held together by a few cheap microphones (including a Radio Shack PZM) and a Tascam cassette 4-track recorder sequestered under the eaves of a 3rd floor, Cambridge Massachusetts double-decker house apartment. Wood floors and Christmas lights were as much a part of the vibe as an Ampeg VT 40 guitar amp and a small chord organ. The duo would wait until the downstairs neighbor went to work in the morning and then would play until the tunes snapped like a high-pitched snare drum. The setup would close down just before the neighbor came home from work, keeping the peace long enough to see the project through to completion.Once tracked, the band snuck into Fort Apache studios with Tim O'Heir (producer of Sebadoh's `Bakesale' LP) early one morning, freeloading off the Sebadoh sessions that were set to get going that afternoon. Tim mixed the songs through a very hi-fi Neve board in a matter of hours with the Tascam sitting right on the giant board like a tugboat keeping time with an oil tanker. The duo hoped that the spirits of ancestors like The Troggs, Devo, Al Green, and The Bee Gees would be pleased with the scent of tribute that arose from the ashes of the pyre. Today, they are pleased to see the Slaps and the Sputniks on view again nearly 30 years later.

Tresor is proud to present the debut split 12" from Chloe Lula and Ireen Amnes. Meeting in the darker, harder-edged side of the Berlin techno scene in 2019, the pair have regularly collaborated and performed together, but Synergy marks the first time they've shared a record sleeve. Amnes describes Synergy as "the world we built while thinking about our journey as friends and the connection we share as people and artists," and while the record highlights their relationship and shared influences, it also showcases how each has grown into their respective lane.

Amnes' tracks lean into significantly more distorted territory, characterized by a dense fog of grainy pads punctured by sharp, expertly-programmed percussion. On "Our Bodies," these fragments are sculpted into driving hardware gear, replete with distant vocals and acidic squelches, where "Fragments of Desire" makes space for a more somber attitude, descending into murky, psychedelic electro.

In counterpoint to Amnes' deep atmospherics, Lula's contributions are driven by intricate sound design and a focus on dancefloor
impact. Taking cues from Regis and the Birmingham techno sound, she reins in the distortion of 2021's Errant Bodies for aufnahme + wiedergabe in favor of rolling techno and breakbeat-inspired rhythms that nod to her EBM influences. Making use of the extra space, she builds tension through heaving, textured basslines and crescendos of noise, and on EP closer "Event Horizon," she carves through the beat with her own metallic vocals.

Synergy includes a digital bonus track from each artist. Lula's sees her pushing deeper into finely-tooled techno territory, her drums at a swift, driving gallop, surrounded by ominous swaths of reverb. In contrast, Amnes crafts a gritty warehouse trip, sharpening the angles of her drums and detuning her synths until they sound bent and alien. Complete with the EP's physical cuts, these tracks are a testament to how the pair can simultaneously complement and contrast with each other, departing from their shared sonic origins and ending up in wildly dierent destinations.

Catorce reflexiones sobre el fin (Fourteen Reflections on the End) originated from an installation exhibited at the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Oaxaca, Mexico, in 2019. Fourteen magnetic bodies of tape that dialogued with the fourteen pieces of electroacoustic music now contained in this album composed from the sound anthology of Angélica Castelló. Thus, Catorce reflexiones sobre el fin is a complex piece consisting of multiple parts that, although articulated with each other, hold a life of their own.

Like every body, these have a unique history made up of mixed fragments spun by Angélica, ranging from field recordings, references, and self-references to previous pieces, experiences, and voice recordings made specifically for these compositions re-recorded in various formats, from lo to high fidelity, analog and digital, composed, decomposed and recomposed (Castelló, A., 2019). Likewise, as any body, they also reflect on their end, whether absolute or temporal, of the many ways of being finite and of saying goodbye.

During the Catorce reflexiones sobre el fin, Castelló takes you on a journey that is difficult to locate. An ethereal space between shattered glass, stridulation of cicadas, war drums, murmurs in French, Italian maledictions, and soft recitations in Spanish. From uproar to solace, all wrapped in a soft abstraction that only allows access to the subtle whisper of these expressions. A gesture between invitation and sharing because who does not recognize oneself in this emotional storm?

First, the approach of the winds, the first breeze that caresses the body. Then the bewilderment announced by the scent of uncertainty condensed in the air’s humidity. The prelude to the storm, to something that will shake you from head to toe, something from which there will be no return.

To the acceleration of the winds comes the percussions, the tremor of the storm with its lightning. la Ira (1). A vibration running through the whole body, unstoppable. This reverberating sound, resulting from its re-percussion with our body acoustics, owes its tones and echoes to the cavities and organs of different masses. From what is hollow and what is full; what is void and what is matter. There is no turning back. It is a dive into the void; to fight and resist because there is no other way to go. It is a matter of survival.

Ma fin est mon commencement Et mon commencement ma fin (2)

After this, the cicada resumes at the crack of dawn, a gentle breeze, and solitude, that temporarily musical silence of embraces (3) with hints of harpsichord and bells.

The breaking of the waves in Sicily is accompanied by the antenna that picks up radio transmissions that already invite other tastes. The Mediterranean and its currents mingle and divide tense routes of escape, exchange, and struggle between Blutorangen, tides, and birdsongs.

An immersion into deep waters.

And in the end, we all commit sins! Queste maledette! (4)

Lorena Moreno Vera, 2023

It has been some five years since US ambient maestro zake dropped the first volume of his Orchestral Tape Studies. We're glad to finally have the second instalment in the series available because there has rarely been music as cathartic and soothing as this on our shelves. It's made from drones, field recordings and richly layered movements of fragmented orchestral loops.

It is heavily inspired by the sound of the greatest minimalist symphonic composers and orchestras of the last 100 years and comes in several different colours.

This version is a transparent rose vinyl LP and download code.

Graham Lambkin (of Shadow Ring fame) returns with a long awaited epic double LP, Aphorisms, his first major solo outing since Community (Kye, 2016). Recorded mostly during the early winter months of 2022, in post-pandemic New York and post-Brexit London, Aphorisms assembles the sonic detritus of daily life into hauntingly intimate aural soundscapes. Made between Lambkin's residence in East London and Blank Forms in New York, Aphorisms superimposes the two spaces onto one another creating an imaginary stage where his musical dramas unfold. A transatlantic mediation on the rooms where Lambkin has lived and worked, Aphorisms summons up hallucinatory vistas by way of the composer’s collage technique, layering field recordings, piano, guitar, percussion, vocal fragments, and repurposed elements on top of one another in double, triple, and quadruple exposures. Like the Shadow Ring’s Lindus (Swill Radio, 2001) recorded between Folkestone and Miami Aphorisms ruminates on estrangement and displacement, catching Lambkin as he returns to London after two decades of living in the States, in his words, “leaving home to return home.” Aphorisms continues Lambkin’s synthetic-naturalist approach to sound-making, twisting disparate and unique elements together to create the sensation of a coherent sonic space. At the heart of his practice is the illusion of form, whereby Lambkin combines sonic elements, documenting the moment that they coalesce into music only to disintegrate back into incidental sound. The album is centered around two pianos, one in New York and one in London, sounding together as if through the ether, creating a spectral atmosphere that Lambkin fills with melodic snippets, fragments of songs, spoken-word musings, and guttural barks or “the animal purity of voice,” as he has it. The superimposition of the two spaces is maximized in the album's closing titular track, where, much like on earlier works such as Salmon Run (Kye, 2007) and Softly Softly Copy Copy (Kye, 2009) fragments of familiar melodies float through the mix as though being played from afar. Aphorisms is Lambkin at his best, extending methodologies only hinted at previously and taking his now-idiosyncratic mission statement to a new chapter.

I Shall Die Here / Earth Triumphant is an expanded edition of the fourth full-length album by The Body, first released to widespread acclaim, and terror, in 2014. Sharing their moribund vision with Bobby Krlic, aka The Haxan Cloak, the tried and true sound of The Body is shred to pieces on I Shall Die Here, mutilated by process and re-animated in a spectral state by the collaboration.

This double album set is expanded with the previously unreleased Earth Triumphant, a full-length companion album that would become I Shall Die Here, showcasing The Body's brutality in its most primal form. With both albums revisited by The Body and Seth Manchester at Machines With Magnets and remastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis Studios, this is the definitive edition of a shocking classic of unbridled bleakness and innovation. Formed by drummer Lee Buford and guitarist Chip King in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1999, The Body soon relocated to Providence, Rhode Island. The duo remained in Providence for a decade before moving west to their current home of Portland, Oregon. Their debut self-titled album (Moganano, 2003) and on the widely-acclaimed, classification curtailing of All the Waters of the Earth Turn to Blood (At A Loss, 2011) readied the band for even more experimentations. The employment of the Assembly of Light Choir's classical chorales on All the Waters, alongside more industrial music techniques such as vocal sampling and drum programming, prompted RVNG to inquire with King and Buford which darker corners of the electronic universe they were presumably interested in exploring.

The undertaking of I Shall Die Here was aided by Seth Manchester and Keith Souza, The Body's long standing engineer and creative collaborator, and noted producer Bobby Krlic. Krlic's own work as The Haxan Cloak struck a similarly despairing chord to The Body with the celebrated Excavation (Tri Angle, 2013), itself a minimalist evocation of the afterlife. I Shall Die Here shares similar nether space with the morbidly deviating darkness of Excavation, but remains sculpturally frozen in a sort of earthen purgatory.

The Body's musical approach, engraved by Buford's colossal beats and King's mad howl and bass-bladed guitar dirge, became something even more terrifying with Krlic's post-mortem ambiences serving as both baseline and outer limit. I Shall Die Here sonically serrates the remains of metal's already unidentifiable corpse and splays it amid tormented voices in shadow. This expanded edition gives us a window into the creation of a classic with the inclusion of its in utero twin, Earth Triumphant. Recorded as a nearly finished album by Buford and King before The Haxan Cloak's transformation, it stands as a raw statement of intent, the original DNA for what would soon mutate into something wholly new.

Fans of I Shall Die Here will find familiar sonic fragments in a more primitive state - like seeing an out-of-context photograph of a family member taken well before you knew them - but the album stands on its own in its minimalist brutality, a natural bridge to what The Body was soon to become. The Body's I Shall Die Here / Earth Triumphant will be released in digital and vinyl formats on June 30, 2023. On behalf of The Body, The Haxan Cloak, and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Intransitive, an organization that works to advance the cause of Trans liberation in Arkansas through art, education, advocacy, organizing and culture in order to create effective systemic change and on-the-ground impact.

I Shall Die Here / Earth Triumphant is an expanded edition of the fourth full-length album by The Body, first released to widespread acclaim, and terror, in 2014. Sharing their moribund vision with Bobby Krlic, aka The Haxan Cloak, the tried and true sound of The Body is shred to pieces on I Shall Die Here, mutilated by process and re-animated in a spectral state by the collaboration.

This double album set is expanded with the previously unreleased Earth Triumphant, a full-length companion album that would become I Shall Die Here, showcasing The Body's brutality in its most primal form. With both albums revisited by The Body and Seth Manchester at Machines With Magnets and remastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis Studios, this is the definitive edition of a shocking classic of unbridled bleakness and innovation. Formed by drummer Lee Buford and guitarist Chip King in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1999, The Body soon relocated to Providence, Rhode Island. The duo remained in Providence for a decade before moving west to their current home of Portland, Oregon. Their debut self-titled album (Moganano, 2003) and on the widely-acclaimed, classification curtailing of All the Waters of the Earth Turn to Blood (At A Loss, 2011) readied the band for even more experimentations. The employment of the Assembly of Light Choir's classical chorales on All the Waters, alongside more industrial music techniques such as vocal sampling and drum programming, prompted RVNG to inquire with King and Buford which darker corners of the electronic universe they were presumably interested in exploring.

The undertaking of I Shall Die Here was aided by Seth Manchester and Keith Souza, The Body's long standing engineer and creative collaborator, and noted producer Bobby Krlic. Krlic's own work as The Haxan Cloak struck a similarly despairing chord to The Body with the celebrated Excavation (Tri Angle, 2013), itself a minimalist evocation of the afterlife. I Shall Die Here shares similar nether space with the morbidly deviating darkness of Excavation, but remains sculpturally frozen in a sort of earthen purgatory.

The Body's musical approach, engraved by Buford's colossal beats and King's mad howl and bass-bladed guitar dirge, became something even more terrifying with Krlic's post-mortem ambiences serving as both baseline and outer limit. I Shall Die Here sonically serrates the remains of metal's already unidentifiable corpse and splays it amid tormented voices in shadow. This expanded edition gives us a window into the creation of a classic with the inclusion of its in utero twin, Earth Triumphant. Recorded as a nearly finished album by Buford and King before The Haxan Cloak's transformation, it stands as a raw statement of intent, the original DNA for what would soon mutate into something wholly new.

Fans of I Shall Die Here will find familiar sonic fragments in a more primitive state - like seeing an out-of-context photograph of a family member taken well before you knew them - but the album stands on its own in its minimalist brutality, a natural bridge to what The Body was soon to become. The Body's I Shall Die Here / Earth Triumphant will be released in digital and vinyl formats on June 30, 2023. On behalf of The Body, The Haxan Cloak, and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Intransitive, an organization that works to advance the cause of Trans liberation in Arkansas through art, education, advocacy, organizing and culture in order to create effective systemic change and on-the-ground impact.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Symphony No. 107 –The Bard, a previously unheard archival recording of the legendary improvising ensemble MEV (Musica Elettronica Viva), captured in concert at Bard College, New York in 2012. Formed by a group of American expat composers in Rome in 1966, the MEV ensemble played an important role in the development of free improvisation, bridging the live electronics tradition begun by Cage and Tudor and the high-energy squall of free jazz. Early recordings like Spacecraft or The Sound Pool unleash volleys of metal and glass amplified with contact microphones, howling winds, primitive synthesizer bleep and raucous audience participation, the intensity of which puts much later ‘noise’ to shame. In later decades, the ensemble would go through many iterations, often including legendary free players like Steve Lacy and George Lewis. In its final years, MEV settled into the core trio of founding members heard here: Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum, using piano, electronics, and small instruments.

Curran, Rzewski, and Teitelbaum were life-long friends blessed, as Curran says, with ‘incompatible personalities’: major figures in the post-Cagean experimental tradition, they explored countless divergent and even contradictory paths as composers and performers, from agitprop songs to brainwave-controlled synthesis. MEV is the sound of these three personalities coming together, their contributions radically individual yet attaining a state of ‘fundamental unity’ that Rzewski, in a text written in the collective’s earliest years, defined as the ‘final goal of improvisation’. Of course, listeners familiar with aspect of the trio’s individual works might hazard some guesses about who is doing what: the crisp piano figures are probably Rzewski’s, the cut-up hip-hop samples most likely Curran’s, the sliding, squelching synth possibly Teitelbaum’s. But often these identities are dissolved in a constantly shifting hall of mirrors, the listener unable to tell which of these pianos is live and which is a sample of a past virtuoso, or whether a horn blast derives from ethnographic documentation or Curran cutting loose on Shofar. The two side-long sets here occupy a similar terrain of constantly shifting texture and instrumentation, unexpected interruptions, and moments of sudden beauty. The first set is sparser, at times almost ominous, as a bell repeatedly sounds across wheezing harmonica, seasick orchestral textures, and creaking wood, making room for episodes of yodelling and delicate prepared piano before exploding into a storm of buzzing synth and piano fragments. The second set is more frenetic, moving rapidly across centuries and continents: cars crash into post-serial piano pointillism, wailing voices collide with chopped and screwed hip-hop samples, Hollywood strings are buried under layers of electronic gurgles. The performance slows in its final moments, making way for a sampled voice repeating the phrase ‘protest and the good of the world’, reminding us that MEV’s idea of freedom was always more than musical. Symphony No. 107 –The Bard is a beautifully recorded example of the endlessly multi-layered later MEV sound, accompanied by new liner notes by Alvin Curran (now the only surviving member of the group) and a selection of previously unseen photographs from across the many decades of the group’s activity. Arriving in an elegant sleeve bearing a beautiful photograph by Francis Zhou of the Olin Hall at Bard College where the concert was recorded, this is an essential document from a major group in the history of experimental music. As Rzewski wrote, this music is ‘like life, unpredictable, sometimes making sense, mostly not’.

Metroplex dont need an introduction, arguably worlds first and longest running Techno label. OCb aka Driss Bennis is a new face at Metroplex. Since starting his own label Casa Voyager in 2017, the Moroccan artist has gained a reputation for being as versatile an A&R as a producer. Hie debuts his OCB project on Metroplex with ,,The Sequel", an expansive five-tracker, covering a wide range of musical territory from funk-infused breakbeats, fast-paced electro bass, chilled downbeats to focused techno. The astral pads in the opening track ,,THX (The Sequel)" give way to lush electro beats, a funky bass line and warm chords before a vocoded voice exclaims ,,trans human express". Despite its slightly menacing title, ,,Global Warning" has the same ethereal star-gazing vibe, driven by breakbeats and accentuated by dreamy piano chords. On the flip side, the fast-paced electro of ,,Syntax Error" does its title justice with highly-processed fragments of a robotic voice propel the track forward. ,,Translate" is classic Motor City techno - Metroplex style. ,,The Sequel" rounds off with a short, chilled downtempo track, that once again underscores Bennis' musicality. Metroplex is back!!

Brazilian soul, psych, bossa and jazz, reimagined from Berlin, via the Dead Sea, on Moriah Plaza’s dreamy first album for Batov Records.

Moriah Plaza co-founders Tamir Chen and Moosh Lahav first encountered and fell in love with the beautiful and hypnotic sounds of Brazilian bossa nova and samba as children in Tel Aviv in the nineties, via the many local bands and tribute groups that had sprung up since the first wave of bossa had hit swept across the world. Likewise
they developed a fascination with elevator muzak, film soundtracks, and even the hotel pianist performing day-by-day in the lobby of the Sheraton Moriah where Tamir’s mother worked, overlooking the Dead Sea.

Relocating years later to the vastly different environment of Berlin, capital of a country that enjoyed its own Brazilian moment, Tamir and Moosh’s shared passion for Brazilian music would encourage them to create their own songs inspired by the warm pulse of Brazil, albeit a world apart, through a vastly different lens.
Whilst the initial inspiration for Moriah Plaza can be traced back to Tel Aviv and the Dead Sea, the band itself was conceived by Tamir and Moosh in Solarium Studio, Berlin, from the broken fragments of their former shoegaze band, Soda Fabric, who had the honour of backing outsider legend Daniel Johnston. They would go on to write and record their debut album in close collaboration with two Brazilians and fellow Berlin residents,, poet and singer Cecília Erisman, and singer, songwriter, synth operator and Tropical Disco Club founder Flavia Annechini.

The album opens with “Desendereçada”. Dirty drum machine beats thud away under flutes and extraneous noises and a spoken word commentary. The oddness and allure of the intro is a perfect introduction to the world of Moriah Plaza.

The pace picks up on “Mais Amor”. A beautiful Brazilian soul jazz number with a sublime vocal from Flavia Annechini that will surely appeal to the global dancefloor jazz scene. “Te Peço” daws us in deeper with sweetest jazz vocal over an irresistible bassline and bossa drums that transforms halfway through into a modern soul rhythm crowned by flute and horns. A flute solo from Moosh Lahav leads us into the final uplifting refrain.

The Pharoah Sanders meets Ravi Shankar in Rio grooves of “Estelar”
have that fresh feeling that will certainly appeal to fans of modern favourites Rebecca Vasment and Ruby Rushton. Next up, the mysterious “Lagoon de Merim” is practically two songs in one, the first half an atmospheric string-topped number somewhere between Arthur Verocai and Cinematic Orchestra, before snappy drums beats and playful organ chords introduce a slow brassy samba that fills the whole sonic room.

“Teu Porto” is a must for all DJs, mixing calypso, highlife and house, lilting guitars and smooth vocals by Cecilia Erismann.. The deep samba house grooves of “Samba Moosh” close us out. The rich blend of sweet vocals, soaring flute and gritty synths carry us off into the sunset.
Moriah Plaza’s self-titled debut album is a major addition to the global soul and jazz scene. providing the perfect summer soundtrack for music lovers around the world.

With BloodPact 11xxx27 & Mystics present their first installment on ZHARK. Dense, oppressive and gloomy atmospheres meet hard hitting heavy percussions, violent rhythmical and fragmented vocals underline a constant sentiment of ferocity and nostalgia. The Napoli based duo deliver 6 powerful energetic and deeply emotional electronic explorations.

Erik K Skodvin's alter persona “Svarte Greiner” re-appears with another chapter in his “zen music for disturbed souls” series, channeling both spiritual distress and meditation in a live recording from the bunkers of a bombed out brewery.

The first piece, entitled “Devolving Trust” is recorded live in the bunkers of Schneider Brewery in Berlin, 2018. Erik explains : “I was invited to use the vast old cellars located underneath the site for a performance / installation. Wet and hollow with a dark past and long reverb, it was a perfect location to channel a cello and electro-acoustic improvisation in the spirit of my two long-form, meditative albums Black Tie & Moss Garden. As a 30 minute piece, it was left looping in the room for hours after it ended as an echo of the performance, allowing people to walk around and soak up the sounds and empty hallways alone.

I am usually not into the idea of releasing a live recording, as there are so many factors that are lost in the translation from being present and listening to it in another space. The eyes, ears and body can often see beyond small mistakes once a live performance unfolds in front of you. The details are usually lost in translating it to a pure recording. I made an exception for this as I feel it translates the live feeling in a way I like. Very personal and full of small mistakes it creates its own life. Also, as an improvisation, I am very happy with it, and have been listening to it on and off since a few years. With this in mind I decided I want it to be another document in my ongoing series of longform, atmospheric pieces following the aforementioned two albums.

The second track simply called “Devolve” is mostly constructed out of fragments from the performance as a sort of minimal, reversed echo, further tunnelling into the unknown. These pieces has given me calmness, reflection and escape from the madness escalating outside of our doors. I hope it can do the same for you”.

Miles in the Sky reflects the intriguing curiosities and rainbow possibilities suggested by the album cover. Miles Davis' fifth and final album with his classic second quintet is kaleidoscopic in sound, forward-looking in structure, and contextually grounded in approach. As the legendary leader's first venture into what would become fusion, it's historical for containing the premier appearances of electric piano, bass, and guitar on a Davis effort.

The album's wide-open soundscapes soar. As do the fluid contributions of Davis' mates. Tony Williams' percussion, central to every composition here, transpires before your eyes. Herbie Hancock's piano hovers and fades with sublime purity. And George Benson, who sits on "Paraphernalia," blows the equivalent of smoke rings with his bluesy guitar, which here takes on brilliant tonality and definition. The acoustic material that occupies the second half of the record is equally transparent and full-bodied.

Granted enhanced production and a greater field of audible information, Miles in the Sky can finally be perceived as belonging to the same upper echelon as Davis' ubiquitously acclaimed Nefertiti and Filles de Kilimanjaro – the albums that precede and follow, respectively, this watershed title. Commonly branded a "transitional" work, Miles in the Sky showcases Davis already at ease with electric instruments and eager to venture into uncharted territories. Doubling as organized jams and bridges between jazz and rock, both the rhythmically challenging "Stuff" and frisky "Paraphernalia" glancing toward the future while keeping solid footing in the past.

Similarly, so do "Country Son" and "Black Comedy." In his original review for jazz authority Down-Beat, Larry Kart observes: "Davis takes material from his earlier days and darkens its emotional tone. His opening phrase on 'Country Son' recalls a fragment from his 'Summertime' solo on the Porgy and Bess album, but here it is delivered with a vehemence that rejects the poignancy of the earlier performance. Even on 'Black Comedy,' his most straight-ahead solo here, the orderly pattern of the past is displaced and fragmented."


Flavoured with humuor, bossa nova, country, and even ballroom phrases, the compositions on Miles in the Sky explode with creativity, purpose, and color.