Buscar:first fragment

Joel Vandroogenbroeck was an arranger, conductor, producer and, above all, a unique multi-instrumentalist in the world of music. The Belgian artist was also famous for being the only permanent member of the group Brainticket and the main promoter of its creativity, often renewed with the contribution of exotic instruments. At the dawn of the Seventies, this versatile musician began a parallel life as a composer of singular music libraries tailored to comment documentary images. “L'Immagine Del Suono” was one of them, originally released by Italy's Flirt Records and now repressed on vinyl
by Musica Per Immagini for the first time. This album circulated, however, unnoticed in a limited number of copies among insiders, only rediscovered later by fans, thus raising Joel Vandroogenbroeck as a real pioneer of ambient and new age music.

It is appropriate to consider the twelve short-lived pieces of L'Immagine Del Suono” as a sort of continuous and visionary experiment, with the addition of electronic gasps, a strong dose of inevitable psychedelia, fragments of synthesized jazz, all coming from experiences both internal and external, hallucinatory and hedonistic. All of this combined creates a mysterious and abstract hybrid. Sonic raw material is sculpted with artisanal care, at times twisted and cryptic, characterized by a transversal irony, to the point that the interference of rock elements in the course of the set divert the listener's attention and momentarily interrupt the flow of consciousness. “L'Immagine Del Suono” is a concentrated example of the avant-garde, free from categorisation of any kind, developed in a non-commercial key and, equally, is drawn from a direct line via what was previously expressed within the folds of the then contemporary works of Brainticket.

A Late Lunch’ is the soundtrack to Akiko Iimura’s eponymous movie realized in 1978. It is based on acoustic instruments and field recordings, brilliantly reconfigured and mixed by Bekaert to create a surreal, immersive soundscape. The technique used includes superposition and speed change of recordings, radical sound effects and juxtapositions of sounds. The players were prominent musicians of the 1970’s, including Maggi Payne, George Lewis, David Rosenboom and Blue Gene Tyranny.

‘A Summer Day at Stony Point’ was composed in 1969, with participation of David Behrman, Shigeko Kubota and Charlotte Warren. The piece was commissioned by English composer Hugh Davies who presented it at the Harrogate festival the same year. Stony Point is a small village in New York State where John Cage co-owned a small pseudo-commune art resort where like-minded artists gathered. ‘A Summer Day at Stony Point’ is nothing more than a page of a journal, a fragment of a notebook that utilizes a series of sound sources recorded at Stony Point on one beautiful day in the summer of 1968. Other electronic sound sources were recorded at the Brandeis University where Alvin Lucier was professor. The final realization of the piece was done at Henri Pousseur’s APELAC Studio in Brussels, 1969.

The soundtrack for Akiko Iimura’s ‘Mon Petit Album’ was composed on the basis of a simple description of the technique of the film and its time span. It includes David Behrman on alto, from an outdoor recording at Stony Point, plus excerpts from a Transition concert in London, the band Bekaert formed in 1971 with Michel Herr, Takehisa Kosugi and Ryo Koike, both members of the Taj Mahal Travelers. The atmosphere is quiet and pastoral throughout with a very dreamlike flavour.

Jacques Bekaert (1940-2020) was a man of many gifts: author, journalist, composer, photographer, visual artist, wine connoisseur, radio talk show host, diplomat and expert in Southeast Asian affairs. His whole life Bekaert has been actively involved in music but not much of his work got recorded or published. In the early 60’s Bekaert studied with Pousseur and through his frequent visits to the US he became friends with artists like John Cage, David Tudor, Charlotte Moorman and most of all David Behrman with whom he had a close friendship ever since. Bekaert helped organize the first European tour of The Sonic Arts Union (David Behrman, Robert Ashley, Gordon Mumma, Alvin Lucier) and in the early 70’s he formed the group Transition (with Belgian jazz pianist Michel Herr, Takehisa Kosugi and Ryo Koike, both members of the Taj Mahal Travelers). His meeting with Japanese experimental film-maker Akiko Iimura resulted in two film soundtracks featured on this one of a kind discreet avant garde album.

When asked in a 1979 interview about his double life as a musician and a journalist, Bekaert replied, “I suppose they’re both unsafe, unstable, questioning jobs—composing and reporting. Journalism takes me to places, shows me the world as it is. My music is my wish for the kind of world I’d want to live in. The little peaceful state I dream for everyone, where you can be yourself, and happy, and as collective as possible without giving up total privacy.”

Originally released in 1981 on the Belgian Igloo label this reissue comes with the same sleeve as originally designed by Alain Géronnez.

The new album of Swiss artist Martina Lussi joins what no longer is conjoined. Conceived and realized over a period marked by major changes in both the private sphere and the world at large, Balance brings together the before and after. The album is held together by a common feature: Lussi’s voice, with which every composition began. Her singing, modified by effects, is supplemented by other sounds, which are light at times, bittersweet at others, and sometimes replace her voice altogether, like on the album’s fulcrum “Fragments of Attention.” On the first half of Balance, Lussi’s singing plunges “Meditation on the Multitab” into a cosmic soundscape; occasionally a rhythm irrupts into it. On “Time Laps,” a track from the album’s second half, the artist’s singsong articulates rhythmical elements and propels them towards a reluctant euphoria.
Balance appears open and fragile, at times even vulnerable, but Lussi’s relentless openness derives from the immense strength needed to weather changes both small and large.

“This music is staggeringly original and innovative, and while it’s possible to locate it in a chain of circumstance that links it to ‘Industrial’ music, P16.D4 indulged in none of the empty cliches associated with the genre, worked incredibly hard, and seem to have been aiming at a form of sound art that was much more profound, varied, subversive, and potentially dangerous. Kuhe In 1/2 Trauer’s accompanying credits indicate their radical approach to making music: lots of improvisation, lots of live electronics, extensive use of tape-loops, some conventional instrumentation, and much that isn’t – like the milk churn on ‘Paris, Morgue’ or the use of baking tray and washing machine elsewhere. Even when guitars, drums or keyboards are used, they’re played very weirdly. It’s not even made clear who was doing what; the main credit is ‘Concept,’ which I assume means that one of the three devised the framework in which the noise would operate itself, and while RLW gets the lion’s share of these credits, a lot of the cuts are evenly divided among the team and I have no doubt that the group operated in a very democratic or libertarian manner. None of this prepares you for the insane and troubling sounds that reach your ears, composed with scant regard for conventional logic and following an exciting, absurdist path, especially in the matter of tape edits and juxtapositions of recordings.” - Ed Pinsent, The Sound Projector.

“Though this German group started out as a the new wave band P.D., by the time of Kuhe in 1/2 Trauer, their first LP under the P16.D4 name from 1984, they had developed far beyond into extremely experimental music similar to other post-industrial artists working with abstract avant-garde soundscapes. There’s a bleak industrial feel to the gritty, lo-fi electronics and tape loops, while the group throws in enough curve balls to keep it interesting. On some pieces, strange, looped choirs bubble out of throbbing pulses and drones of feedback, while others have clanging and clattering, and elements of musique concrète and improvisation blur the boundaries even further. The opening track, “Default Value,” is one of those disorienting pieces with noises flying everywhere, while “Paris Morgue” takes excerpts from one of their old P.D. tracks and messes it up with additional instruments, while the ungainly titled fourth track throws in a heavy texture of percussive noises to create an edgy ambience about to teeter off the edge, and the even darker and more ambient title track takes the tension even further. Arrhythmic and amorphous and capable at moments of becoming quite noisy and abrasive, while at others far more somber and quiet, Kuhe in 1/2 Trauer is quite a fascinating release.” - Rolf Semprebon / AMG

P16.D4 was a German electronic noise music collective, active primarily from 1980 to 1988. P16.D4 embraced tape cut-ups, musique concrète, endless recycling and transformation of previously published material, and many long-distance collaborations with like-minded artists such as DDAA, Vortex Campaign, Nurse With Wound, and Merzbow. Their active participation in the international industrial tape scene yielded collaborative output such as their release Distruct, where bands such as Nurse with Wound, Nocturnal Emissions, Die Tödliche Doris, and The Haters provided the source material. The longest-term collaboration was with the installation and conceptual artist Achim Wollscheid, who used P16.D4 sounds as the basis for LPs he recorded under the name SBOTHI. Ralf Wehowsky, the only constant member of the group, later released solo material under the alias RLW.

Members of P16.D4 were also involved with Selektion, a collective of people involved with sound as well as the visual arts. Selektion published LPs, CDs, books, visual art and design.

The collective worked in a strongly improvised, spontaneous and anti-professional way, using acoustic and electronic instruments, using existing sound fragments, duplicating and alienating them, using repetition, distortion, changes in speed and playing direction. For this they used not only sounds of other artists but also their own material from earlier productions. Late works of the collective are associated with musique concrete.

If we want to look into the future, we have to start considering the implications more holistically. All too often, science fiction is a dystopian projection of the current era's grimmest realities spiked with pragmatic historical hindsight - but what if instead it was able to reflect our needs, hopes, and dreams? On "SPINE", award-winning Danish composer SØS Gunver Ryberg considers a sustainable alternative, buoyed by interconnectedness, empowerment, and understanding. Channeling her dextrous sound design into advanced, time-bending music that fluctuates through techno, experimental ambient, and soundsystem-vibrating bass music, she maps out an artistic landscape that's futuristic and complex, but never oppressive.

Ryberg is an accomplished producer who's developed her sound over many years, playing concerts and working tirelessly on video game soundtracks, film scores, dance, performance, and multichannel installation pieces. Her first solo album "Entangled" appeared in 2019 on Berlin's esteemed Avian imprint, and was praised for its sensitive approach to noise and abstracted techno, while its EP-length followup "WHYT 030" was nominated for the Nordic Council's prestigious music prize this year. "SPINE" is the inaugural release on Ryberg's own label Arterial, and stands as a thematically dense statement of intent. The label provides a platform to extend Ryberg's artistic goals and reflect not just her world but a world she wants to see develop in the future: somewhere connected and creative, where exploration and free expression is prioritized over genre division and petty compromise.

This philosophy is central to the sounds on "SPINE", which have been carefully sculpted to accurately lay out Ryberg's worldview. Opening track 'Unfolding' presents a sonic ecosystem that flourishes as it spreads itself out, and quivering kick drums vibrate alongside unstable atmospherics. There's the faint fingerprint of Chain Reaction's notional dub techno in there somewhere, but Ryberg interrupts the thought before it can coagulate, assuring the listener that her vision isn't ponderous but playful and optimistic. This mood flickers into view again on the title track 'Spine', as fragmented breaks rumble beneath disorienting synths, faint images of a life we once knew refracted into cosmic beams of light. 'Mirrored Madness' meanwhile is warm, assertive, and optimistic, contrasting skittering cybernetic percussion with dense, enveloping harmonies.

When she pushes rhythm into the background, like on the cinematic 'We tumble on the edges', Ryberg's compositional skill is placed under the microscope. We're presented with the opportunity to examine another dimension of her work, the mystery beneath the stone, hearing saturated, alluring pads infused with hidden harmonies. In these moments, Ryberg implores all of us to consider the environment, asking us to think about the earth's essential nutrients on the dreamy 'Phosphorus Cycle', and what we might do to save ourselves on the delirious 'Where do we go from here'. Ryberg's concern isn't chastising, it's laid out in a warm embrace. The future could still be bright - there's something beautiful in the complexity if you just take the time to look closely.

Modal Analysis proudly presents Het Zweet - Archives Volume 1: 1982-1988, a compilation of the Dutch outsider legend painstakingly picked from over 100 hours of unheard tape. An early electronic pioneer who deployed an array of homemade instruments alongside synths and a tape recorder to craft his searching sound, Marien Van Oers occupies a lonely branch on the tree of this music's early efforts, sliding between pounding industrial grooves, ambient fragments, and extended, entrancing compositions bridging this divide. Most closely akin to Muslimgauze, Test Dept. or Fad Gadget, who shared his outsider practice while remaining thoroughly entrenched in contemporary sounds, Het Zweet is striking for his diversity and for its meticulous composition, formed of carefully arranged layers of sonic detritus culled from his collection of homemade devices and electronic distortions. Finally rising to greater exposure since his death in 2013, Modal Analysis passionately continues this mission with our first volume of archives dedicated to the memory of this bold innovator gone before his time.

La Tène"s boundary-blurring fragmentation of traditional music is a propulsive and pulsating trip drawing upon Terry Riley and the minimalist masters. La Tène named themselves in reference to a cultural period spanning a few centuries of the late Iron Age, first defined in the mid-19th century after a flurry of archaeological discoveries near a Swiss lake. That"s not a superficial hat tip, either. La Tène"s long, hypnotic, wordless pieces are built from traditional folk instrumentation, wild percussion and blurred, subtle electronic embellishments, and feel as ancient and earthy as those millennia-old artefacts - with all the metal, wood, dedication, and craftsmanship they entailed. Ecorcha / Taillée, their fourth release and third for Geneva"s Bongo Joe label, is the sound of three musicians playing together as intuitively as if hooked up to a central, pulsating brain.

Innovative horn player, producer and songwriter CJ Camerieri returns with his deeply collaborative CARM project. CARM II, the second album due out this fall with 37d03d, was produced in Minneapolis by Ryan Olson and features Edie Brickell, Sid Sriram, Kristian Matsson, Justin Vernon, Gabriella Smith, Sean Carey and others. It is a genre-defying, heartfelt exploration of the possibilities in provocative musicmaking and provides a homespace for a profound variety of voices. Where the first record used horns in place of other instruments, CARM II places them even more prominently in the musical texture. The experience of playing live shaped this approach. "Standing at the front of the stage was a new experience for me and I wanted to create a record of songs that justified my being there." On CARM II, there is no mistaking that the lead "singer" of this band is Camerieri's horn. CJ also wanted to feature bandmate Trever Hagen, who takes on both production and performance roles. The featured artists on CARM II have opined on their various roles in this project. Brickell contacted Camerieri asking him to participate in her short-form songwriting project that she introduced on social media during the pandemic. Camerieri and Olson were in the middle of writing songs for the record, and one stood out as perfect for Brickell's request. Sent as a work-inprogress, she quickly responded, writing the first verse and chorus to what would become "More and More." They knew it needed to be fully realized. Says Brickell, "CJ's trumpet melodies and phrases inspired `More and More.' I just listened to him and followed his lead, trusted what came to mind and sang it. It all flowed from his music." "For `I Fall' Ryan and I created the basic track and I really struggled to write on it. It wasn't in song form, and I couldn't find my way into making it a coherent thought." CJ thought of Gabriella Smith, one of the leading composers of our day, and on a whim sent her the track. Smith sent fragments to experiment with and send back to her as she rode out the pandemic in the Norwegian countryside. After 3 months, she then sent him a fully realized score of horns/vocals. The result is a testament to the visionary composer's incredible ingenuity. "That this music was in Smith's imagination and then fully notated is mind boggling to me." "The Ones You Love" was the last song written for the record. CJ had been arranging and playing horns on Sid Sriram's forthcoming debut, falling in love with Sriram's voice and style. The song came from a jam session at with Andrew Broder on keys, Evan Slack on guitar, Chris Bierden on bass, and Hagen on drum machine. CJ and Sid trade epic lines back and forth, celebrating vulnerability and virtuosity in tandem.

Having toured the world and delivered one of the pandemic’s most legendary live streams – including bodybuilders and furniture smashing at the old American embassy in Oslo, Aiming for Enrike started working on new music in 2020. Now ready with their fifth album Empty Airports, the tunes flourish further through atmospheric expressions, into floating, minimalistic, electronic, and ambient soundscapes. Empty Airports was composed and recorded in reflection of the quiet Covid19 life during the patience testing lockdown months of 2020 and 2021. Not only is this the duo's longest album ever, but it's also their first double album. The songs are inspired by and belong somewhere between Thom Yorke, Ashra, Nils Frahm, King Crimson in the 80s, Jon Hopkins and Steve Reich. The cover art for Empty Airports is the finishing touch that elevates the album to a complete piece of art. Thor Merlin's unique artwork is a generatively designed collage consisting of clippings from 19 digital paintings and 10 images created with shader programming in Sakuhin: an open-source program that Merlin also uses for live coding of visuals for Aiming for Enrike. The album cover's individual images will be available NFTs. Guitarist Simen Følstad Nilsen says: "Minimalism, which has always been an important part of our expression, is now cultivated to a much greater extent. When the rush to fulfill musical expectations is abounded, it gives the music more space to become more hypnotic and mesmerizing than before." Empty Airports is another fantastic release from the forward-leaning duo, which justifies that Aiming for Enrike lives entirely in their own universe.

VINYL COLOUR IS SNOW WHITE! As a founding member of Bauhaus, David J helped spearhead the post-punk scene of the early ‘80’s with a string of innovative work, including Bauhaus’ defining moment, a bona fide classic and feasibly the pinnacle of the entire goth scene: the nine minute plus epic slab of industrial dub “Bela Lugosi’s Dead,” featuring David’s lyrics and bass guitar work. Bauhaus propelled to the upper echelons of the UK charts before reaching their zenith in the summer of ’83 and imploding – shattering into fragments of individual talent. This implosion gave rise to David's wide-ranging solo career. The first of Bauhaus’ members to actively release music outside of the band, David went on to put out solo work and collaborations with various authors, poets and infamous indies such as 4AD. In 1985, David regrouped with two former Bauhaus members to form the hugely successful Love and Rockets. Since then, David has continued to produce his trademark brand of deeply heartfelt and darkly sophisticated music. Highlights of What The Patrons Heard include a timely rendition of Neil Young’s “Vampire Blues” delivered with penetrating intensity; “Gimme Some Truth,” which brings new urgency and potency to the John Lennon classic; and “Lay Over And Lay,” which delivers folk-punk that only musicians from the British Isles can get right.

Federico Madeddu Giuntoli is an italian multidisciplinary artist. Mostly autodidact, his art is based on groundedness and simplicity, and focused on the complexity of human journey in a non aggressive, warm and unfiltered way.

His works, ranging from contemporary art, music, writing and photography, are usually delicate and subtle, yet unequivocally tuned into a certain kind of pop communication, however essential and experimental it may be.

"The text and the form" is his first solo album, featuring german e-poetess AGF and japanese artist Moskitoo (12K).

The album is a collection of 11 minimal and intimate short songs, in which piano fragments, lonely guitar solos, spoken words and evocative vocals resonate with processed microsounds and lo-fi field recordings, creating a concise and very deep journey into romance and sense of mystery.

In the artist's words, "the album shaped itself according to a loose process of refinement and layering. A long, undisturbed assembling across more then a decade, often against my own will to reach a definitive form. If any relevance in this work can be found, I would say it resides in its capability to deliver a rare sense of vulnerability, longing and aliveness together, an aroma of improvisation and instability mixed with a unexplicable impression of perfection".

Y Bülbül is back on the controls accompanied by Yumurta, a percussionist from Istanbul. Pingipung introduced the London based artist in 2020 with his psychedelic, synth-laden debut “Fever”.

“Not One, Not Two” is based on a one-way transmission of improvised drum recordings from an industrial estate in Maslak, Istanbul to another one in Tottenham, London, where Y Bülbül laid down fragmented layers of bass, synths, guitars and field recordings over Yumurta’s singular drum takes. The result is a free-form deep listening album for fans of dub, ambient and kosmische music, where the groove and harmonies are mystically interwoven, yet somehow manage to stay on the brink of collapse. Although the sessions were non concurrent and scattered over two continents, the collaboration evokes scenes of a telepathic communion where individual perspectives, circumstances and stories are exchanged between the two.

Resembling Moondog, Holy Tongue or Luis Paniagua in the sense that they favor the raw over the polished, holistic presence over conceptual perfection and questions over answers, the duo’s focus on bare sounds and repetition guides the listener throughout the album. The ride cymbal opening the minimalistic “I’m This”, for instance, briskly disarms the listener who might have been looking for more traditional songwriting or production clues. There are plenty of immediately rewarding moments too in “Not One, Not Two,” like the organic acid bassline in “Maurin Quina”, the euphoric drum fills of “Big K” and the intoxicating groove of the hypnotic vibe-setter “Jah Oto”.

Bülbül is Turkish for a singing bird while Yumurta simply means egg. Which one is first? Who is to follow? It’s this enigmatic entanglement between the two artists which creates the lurking tension, emphasized by the Zen Kōan-like title. The beauty in this album is a peculiar one, and it certainly is a rabbit hole too. Dissonance is fluid as everything moves, and whenever two sounds collide, a third one emerges.

Folk Implosion's fan favorite album is available on cassette for the first time! 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. Tracklisting: 1. Blossom 2. Sputnik's Down 3. Slap Me 4. Chicken Squawk 5. Spiderweb-Butterfly 6. Had To Find Out 7. Better Than Allrite 8. Why Do They Hide 9. Winter's Day 10. Boyfriend, Girlfriend 11. Shake A Little Heaven 12. Waltzin' With Your Ego 13. Take A Look Inside 14. Start Again

The essential series from the ’80s has been rebuilt, remastered, and carefully portioned onto a five disc set of 7-inch singles, including all the classic vocal bits that became iconic samples, and more than a few new additions to bring things up to date.

Where would dance music be without Acapellas Anonymous? Although many records claim to have changed the game, the arrival of the Acapellas Anonymous series in the mid/late ’80s actually did just that. A hugely popular, multi-volume set of vocal tracks sourced from a wide variety of dance classics, AA was used extensively at the dawn of sampled music to provide hooks for numerous hits. “I’ve Got the Power,” “Ride On Time,” multiple Clivillés and Cole tracks, Pal Joey’s “Party Time,” ’90s Italo house and rave cuts, and untold others all found their choruses among the many acapellas collected on the series. As Ultimate Breaks & Beats was for funk and hip-hop sampling, so was AA for dance music, both for producers and as a must-have for the creative DJ. Sure, before these records came along, DJs had their own choice vocal bits that they used in sets or layered into edits. But suddenly, much like Ultimate Breaks, these carefully guarded secret sources were available easily, and in convenient form, for the first time. And the response, from DJs and a new generation of producers, was immediate.

That part of the story is widely known, and indeed, was widely experienced by anyone paying attention to music of the time. But the questions linger: who was it that found these acapellas, many of them only existing on promo singles, or as tiny fragments buried on obscure B-sides? Who edited and put them together? By now, you may have guessed that once again we owe an enormous debt to the maestro of edits and our hometown hero, Danny Krivit. And it’s to him we must tip our collective caps for this latest release, a carefully revised, fully remastered, and immaculately executed update to the series — this time on 7-inch.

All of the classics are here, rinsed but still powerful: “Let No Man Put Asunder,” “Weekend,” “Don’t Make Me Wait,” “You Don’t Know,” and dozens more. New additions make a few clever appearances as well, with Roland Clark’s “I Get Deep” (used for Fatboy Slim’s “Star 69”), and Rickie Lee Jones’s stoned rambling known as “Little Fluffy Clouds” showing up for the first time. This is no nostalgia trip — Acapellas Anonymous was recently tapped for a Cardi B megahit, and naturally you’ll find that source, Frank-Ski’s “Whores In This House,” included. All in all, an astounding 80 high-quality acapellas and vocal hooks are spread across the five 7-inch, 33RPM singles, which have each been sequenced thematically with attention paid to timings and tempos to provide maximum utility for the working DJ. And if the past is any indicator, we will likely see a new crop of tracks spring up as these find their way into the production toolkits of the world’s track-makers.

With I was born by the sea, Richie Culver brings to a close a period of intense introspection and emotional reckoning with a debut album that serves as both an optimistic statement of intent and a final glance back at the painful places it explores. Following recent work with Blackhaine and Pavel Milyakov, I was born by the sea picks up where Culver’s EP for Italian label Superpang, Post Traumatic Fantasy, leaves off, painting an unabashed portrait of contemporary malaise, detailing a life lived behind closed doors, pinned under the crushing weight of austerity, sapped of the strength to do anything other than gaze out to sea and all the grey possibilities it represents. Where Post Traumatic Fantasy saw Culver returning to his hometown of Hull after a period spent entangled in London’s relentless sprawl, his first full length project reaches further back to his formative years working in a caravan factory and going to raves in and among Hull’s outskirts. Unspooling like a fever dream, I was born by the sea is the anxious clutter of a racing mind spoken clearly, a stark reflection on how it feels to have too many ideas and too much time to act on them.

Though unquestionably a snapshot of a time of significant difficulty, Culver reflects on this period with tender empathy and pitch-black humour, stitching together unflinching observations from England’s neglected corners, ‘there’s more mobility scooter repair shops and bookies than there are bookshops,’ and devastating vignettes of everyday struggle, ‘tears on the tin foil’, with surreal depictions of industrial grit, ‘skimming stones in a small pond by the slaughterhouse’. His DIY approach to production stretches the rough sinew that connects these fragments of memory, a process he describes as using a paired back collection of synths and drum machines to the best of his ability, ‘but to the least of their capabilities,’ wringing out visceral sound with self-taught urgency. During the album’s most impressionistic passages it’s as though Culver has transposed past internal turmoil into powerfully resonant noise, the Sisyphean sonics of ‘Create A Lifestyle Around Your Problems’, which evokes in its concrète clatter and MRI machine barrage the sound of making the same mistake again and again, or the stuttered jumble of ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You,’ its garbled vocal modulation and frayed edges of distortion channeling the paranoia of somebody listening to muffled voices through thin plaster, climbing the walls of their bedroom with the curtains closed, a nervous breakdown in stereo.

In counterpoint to this glides the ever-present spirit of the dance floor, which haunts the record from the moment it is invoked in its first few seconds. Opening onto a sea wall of bright synthesis, the stuttering vocals and bass tone chops of ‘Nervous Energy’ dump us directly into post rave ecstasy, the echoing cry of a voice amplified by loudspeaker carrying the loose energy and surge of crowds moving in darkness. The incessant, dead phone line beep of ‘Pigeon Flesh’ builds to a pulse that suddenly swells into an anxious technoid surge, shapeshifting at lysergic speed into head shrinking audio hallucinations, a descent into the void of the present via machine music hypnosis. Even ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You’ summons the ego death drive of hardcore techno within its scorched textures, flickering indiscernibly between attritional noise and frazzled hardware stomp. Paying homage to both the parties of his youth and a countless succession of Sundays spent offering himself up within Berghain’s hallowed architecture, Culver’s experiments in addressing his formative relationship with rave provide an energetic glimpse at where he might take his sound next.

Between spikes of propulsive energy and grim mood pieces Culver returns to suspended passages of aching, glacial drift, the cold swell of the North Sea, accompanied by some of his heaviest testimonials. The gauzy ebb of ‘Daytime TV,’ its tumbling loops reminiscent of boats bobbing off a distant shore, sees the artist at his most checked out, slumped in front of his television, seven days a week. ‘I used to dream of doing something,’ he admits, ‘anything to get out of this town.’ ‘Love Like An Abscess’ pairs swirling currents of ambient shimmer with violent images of baseball bats lying next to beds and blood-stained mattresses, next to which Culver pleads in a desperate mumble, ‘let our love grow, like a broken abscess.’ Yet it’s with the album’s final word and title track that Culver reveals a glimmer of cautious optimism, a parting gesture of exposition and closure. ‘I knew I had to get away,’ he asserts, ‘so I did and I never looked back.’ What follows builds from a low throb, the flutter of a tiny heartbeat, to a resonant glow, embellished with unfurling synthetic burbles, oil rigs sparkling in the distance, golden light spilling across the sea. In reckoning with the place he had to escape, Richie Culver is now free to look towards the promise of something new, something hopeful.

Recommended If You Like: Trentemøeller, Nine Inch Nails, Zola Jesus, Tropic of Cancer, Chelsea Wolfe, William Basinski, oOoOO, The Focus Group/Ghost Box -- hauntology in general. LP on Blood Red Vinyl, LP & CD packaged in a gatefold jacket. First new music since 2018’s Lingering Pt. II. Featuring k Hover (Sound of Ceres) on “Moldering Fragments”. Sleep Party People’s Brian Batz dives into the darker edges of orchestral pop on new album Heap of Ashes. Influenced by primarily Bulgarian choral music, old-school metal, and 21st century experimental composition, the music of Sleep Party People exposes every facet, every moment, and every wound, finding beauty even when the last glow of hope looks like it’s ready to fade into the ashes. Heap of Ashes includes contributions from Halvcirkle, GNOM, and Sound of Ceres’ K Hover. Track Listing 1 It Won't Be Cinematic 2 Tide 3 Spider Cracks 4 Moldering Fragments 5 No. 3147 6 Labyrinth 7 Parched Bodies 8 Pagan Flames 9 Needle

Recommended If You Like: Trentemøeller, Nine Inch Nails, Zola Jesus, Tropic of Cancer, Chelsea Wolfe, William Basinski, oOoOO, The Focus Group/Ghost Box -- hauntology in general. LP on Blood Red Vinyl, LP & CD packaged in a gatefold jacket. First new music since 2018’s Lingering Pt. II. Featuring k Hover (Sound of Ceres) on “Moldering Fragments”. Sleep Party People’s Brian Batz dives into the darker edges of orchestral pop on new album Heap of Ashes. Influenced by primarily Bulgarian choral music, old-school metal, and 21st century experimental composition, the music of Sleep Party People exposes every facet, every moment, and every wound, finding beauty even when the last glow of hope looks like it’s ready to fade into the ashes. Heap of Ashes includes contributions from Halvcirkle, GNOM, and Sound of Ceres’ K Hover. Track Listing 1 It Won't Be Cinematic 2 Tide 3 Spider Cracks 4 Moldering Fragments 5 No. 3147 6 Labyrinth 7 Parched Bodies 8 Pagan Flames 9 Needle

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Uri Katzenstein’s Audio Works, produced in collaboration with Holon’s Centre for Digital Art. Spanning sculptural installation, performance, video art, and many other media, Katzenstein’s absurdist, poetic, and often hilarious work made extensive use of sound and music. This, however, is the first release dedicated to the artist’s audio work, collecting 28 tracks produced between the early 1980s and 2017. Compiled from dozens of hours of recordings left uncatalogued (and in some instances unheard) at the artist’s death in 2018, these four sides are a treasure trove, offering a captivating glimpse into a uniquely uninhibited creative practice. Predominantly recorded alone, with some contributions from regular collaborators such as Ohad Fishof on the later pieces, many of these tracks stem from Katzenstein’s time living in New York in the 1980s. Feeding on the cross-pollination of post-punk energy, radical art practice, and new media possibilities that characterised the New York scene at this time, many of Katzenstein’s recordings squeeze multilayered vocal experimentation into synth-based miniatures with a distinctively pop twist, their forms ruptured with anarchic bursts of free-form electronics, sounds from self-built instruments, and field-recorded snatches of the outside world. Katzenstein’s electronic production calls up touchstones of skewed 80s art pop like Laurie Anderson, Ambitious Lovers, and Scritti Politti, but imbued with DIY directness and economy of means. The arrangements of synths, percussion, and noise elements are invigoratingly raw and, at times, almost austerely minimal. On ‘Intermission’, thick distorted chords accompany a wandering portamento melody, inhabiting the wayward carnival space of Roedelius’ most unhinged efforts. Many of the tracks centre on Katzenstein’s multi-tracked vocal performances, often moving between multiple languages, (most commonly English, German, French, and Hebrew). A bewildering range of vocal approaches are present on these pieces, from sweet wordless harmonies to hammed-up growls and monastic recitations. On ‘Skin O. Daayba – Complex Habits no. 3’, improvised resonance singing against a backdrop of echoing electronics and radio snatches. ‘Half Monk Half Herring’ layers multi-lingual syllabic fragments, crossing sound poetry techniques with melodic invention in a way rarely heard outside of Caetano Veloso’s Araçá Azul. On ‘Attempt to Raise Hell’, Katzenstein’s distorted voice spits out streams of alliterative nonsense (‘the hemlock of Henry, he was a hermit…purple pumpkin pulsates to pops’), while on the hilarious ‘Eric’, Katzenstein appears to instruct a small boy simultaneously in basic French and German conversation. On ‘Chicken’, vocal harmonies accompany the pecking and clucking of the titular fowl. Moving from bent, outsider synth pop to snatches of Jo Jones-esque automated instrumental clang and absurdist linguistic experiments, these are far more than footnotes to an artist’s gallery works. Accompanied by extensive, beautifully written liner notes by Roee Rosen and the little information that exists on the individual tracks, Katzenstein’s Audio Works inhabits an outer fringe of DIY pop and sonic experiment reminiscent of Pascal Comelade or Die Welttraumforscher, where accessible forms convey radical interrogations of song, word, and sound.

6 face-melting gurners for the 21st Century’s, wilted and jilted generation.

Glasgow’s Lady Neptune follows her New Gorbals Gabber cassette E.P. with her debut vinyl release NOZ. Over the course of 23 bloody fisted minutes, Lady Neptune’s – aka Moema Meade - hyper destructed take on Gabber and Happy Hardcore breaks down the genre tropes before rebuilding them as a new pop music. If 2020’s New Gorbals Gabber showed an artist building their own language from fragments of different genres, 2022’s NOZ goes harder into the cyberpunk-ass future and takes no prisoners. Recorded and mixed at Glasgow’s legendary Green Door Studios and mastered by Rashad Becker, here Lady Neptune evolves into a monster.

With the classic weapons of Dutch Gabber – distorted 909 kick drums, bursts of noise and world-eating Rave-O- Matic hoovering synth riffs, Lady Neptune’s 6 tracks constantly threaten to careen off the speaker into the sweatiest, most gibbering, messy corners of the club. The two years since her debut has seen Meade destroying festival dancefloors, training for the full assault that is NOZ. Live performances have seen foam guns, tequila-pistols, neon stage dancers and a full, maxed-out orgy of fast-as-hell BPM, rave music burning up the cones. The experience reaps rewards from the outset on recorded form here. APOCOLYPS begins with monstrous vocals and the all-consuming kick, pulled back and taut for launch. The arsenal builds; warbling synths and high-pitched synth-strings before dropping into Bald Terror-sized hoovers and stuttering 4/4s. It quickly bleeds into MASTERER, with a looped, pitched up vocal intersecting with the synth riff. The aesthetics might be Happy Hardcore but the dynamic feels like a synthetic, evil Nu Metal-influenced Industrial music. Constantly evolving and twisting with its own natural drama, the drop at 2:15 is pure ecstatic release. fusing Meade’s inclination for pop hooks with the first out-and-out 180BPM (ish, who’s counting?) anthemic melter of the E.P., TELL ME has THE big catchy chorus, used sparingly and sung by Meade with angelic devilishness, coming at you in waves of XTC. It’s a repeater.

It’s then massive fists in the air for the ruthless Side B opener WIT. In the Welsh-Brazilian artist’s adopted home of Glasgow it translates directly as WHAT!? Itt makes sense. g. Sharp, weaponised, rhythmic punishment abounds before OH responds. Pitched up vocals and another mid-frequency synth hook wipes the slate clean. Like the best Gabber, the tension and release dynamic is used to full effect by Meade, with the thunderous low end kick -expertly tweaked in the mastering by Rashad Becker – slipping into the ghostly cavern. Industrialized 4/4 and noise-snares propel onwards to be utterly squashed by that bloody synth, stinging and horribly brilliant. Proving her genius for a ridiculous A-N-T-H-E-M, TIME 2 MAKE U FEEL GOOD closes the 23 minutes of ragged, drugged glory with a festival-slamming chorus built from the wreckage. It’s a song that does that thing we all know and love but can’t put our finger on. Sad, happy, tragedy, ecstasy, joy, horror...There’s big, minor chord changes (yes there’s some CHORDS on this slammer), the kick is submerged in layers of pads and Meade’s actual secret weapon: her vocal and knack for writing a chorus line. In the listener’s mind it’s over before it’s begun, a track destined for the big rewind.

NOZ is a breathless, E-number riddled eternal ecstasy.

Armed with a disdain for pastiche and a penchant for experimentalism, rRoxymore has spent the last decade pushing the boundaries of what constitutes club music. Across a steady stream of releases, the Berlin-based artist has continually reinvented her sound, shifting from hypnotic leftfield techno to UK bass mutations, genre-eschewing dub oddities and so much more. On Perpetual Now, her sophomore album, she again displays this propensity for pushing the sonic envelope. It's a slow-burning record, and one that blurs the lines between the electronic and the organic. Subverting the traditional album format, Perpetual Now is made up of four extended soundscapes - each taking the listener on a journey through tempo, texture and emotional state. Downtempo opener `At The Crest' gently sets things into motion, allowing the sparse percussion to tentatively find its feet. `Sun In C' is a peculiarly meditative excursion, crafting a rich, intoxicating atmosphere across its nine minutes. `Fragmented Dreams', with its pulsating rhythms and fractured melodies, sees the album fleetingly burst into life, before `Water Stain' winds things down in the most effortless of manners. A daring, unconventional album, Perpetual Now is everything we've come to expect and more from one of electronic music's most unique producers. French-born, Berlin-based DJ, sound artist and producer rRoxymore first emerged on the scene with `Wheel of Fortune', a ten-minute epic released on Planningtorock's Human Level back in 2012. She has since put out music regularly, dropping her debut album Face To Phase in 2019, and more recently "I Wanted More", a four-track EP that veered from downtempo ambience to lush deep house.

Several things happened before a warm day when I met the four members of Frankie Cosmos in a Brooklyn studio to begin making their album. Greta Kline spent a few years living with her family and writing a mere 100 songs, turning her empathy anywhere from the navel to the moon, rendering it all warm, close and reflexively humorous. In music, everyone loves a teen sensation, but Kline has never been more fascinating than now, a decade into being one of the most prolific songwriters of her generation. She's lodged in my mind amongst authors, other observational alchemists like Rachel Cusk or Sheila Heti, but she's funnier, which is a charm endemic to musicians. Meanwhile Frankie Cosmos, a rare, dwindling democratic entity called a band, had been on pandemic hiatus with no idea if they'd continue. In the openness of that uncertainty they met up, planning to hang out and play music together for the first time in nearly 500 days. There, whittling down the multitude of music to work with, they created Inner World Peace, a collection of Greta's songs changed and sculpted by their time together. While Kline's musical taste at the time was leaning toward aughts indie rock she'd loved as a teenager, keyboardist Lauren Martin and drummer Luke Pyenson cite "droning, meditation, repetition, clarity and intentionality," as well as "'70s folk and pop" as a reference for how they approached their parts. Bassist/guitarist Alex Bailey says that at the time he referred to it as their "ambient" or "psych" album. Somewhere between those textural elements and Kline's penchant for concise pop, Inner World Peace finds its balance. The first order of business upon setting up camp in Brooklyn's Figure 8 studios was to project giant colorful slides the band had made for each track. Co-producing with Nate Mendelsohn, my Shitty Hits Recording partner, we aimed for FC's aesthetic idiosyncrasies to shine. The mood board for "Magnetic Personality" has a neon green and black checkerboard, a screen capture of the game Street Fighter with "K.O." in fat red letters, and a cover of Mad Magazine that says "Spy Vs. Spy! The Top Secret Files." On tracks like "F.O.O.F." (Freak Out On Friday), "Fragments" and "Aftershook," the group are at their most psychedelic and playful, interjecting fuzz solos, bits of percussion, and other sonically adventurous ear candy. An internal logic strengthens everything, and in their proggiest moments, Frankie Cosmos are simply a one-take band who don't miss. When on Inner World Peace they sound wildly, freshly different, it may just be that they're coming deeper into their own. Inner World Peace excels in passing on the emotions it holds. When in the towering "Empty Head" Kline sings of wanting to let thoughts slide away, her voice is buoyed on a bed of synths and harmonium as tranquility abounds. When her thoughts become hurried and full of desire, so does the band, and she leaps from word to word as if unable to contain them all. As a group, they carry it all deftly, and with constant regard for Kline's point of view. Says Greta, "To me, the album is about perception. It's about the question of "who am I?" and whether or not the answer matters. It's about quantum time, the possibilities of invisible worlds. The album is about finding myself floating in a new context. A teenager again, living with my parents. An adult, choosing to live with my family in an act of love. Time propelled us forward, aged us, and also froze. If you don't leave the house, who are you to the world? Can you take the person you discover there out with you?" - Katie Von Schleicher

Several things happened before a warm day when I met the four members of Frankie Cosmos in a Brooklyn studio to begin making their album. Greta Kline spent a few years living with her family and writing a mere 100 songs, turning her empathy anywhere from the navel to the moon, rendering it all warm, close and reflexively humorous. In music, everyone loves a teen sensation, but Kline has never been more fascinating than now, a decade into being one of the most prolific songwriters of her generation. She's lodged in my mind amongst authors, other observational alchemists like Rachel Cusk or Sheila Heti, but she's funnier, which is a charm endemic to musicians. Meanwhile Frankie Cosmos, a rare, dwindling democratic entity called a band, had been on pandemic hiatus with no idea if they'd continue. In the openness of that uncertainty they met up, planning to hang out and play music together for the first time in nearly 500 days. There, whittling down the multitude of music to work with, they created Inner World Peace, a collection of Greta's songs changed and sculpted by their time together. While Kline's musical taste at the time was leaning toward aughts indie rock she'd loved as a teenager, keyboardist Lauren Martin and drummer Luke Pyenson cite "droning, meditation, repetition, clarity and intentionality," as well as "'70s folk and pop" as a reference for how they approached their parts. Bassist/guitarist Alex Bailey says that at the time he referred to it as their "ambient" or "psych" album. Somewhere between those textural elements and Kline's penchant for concise pop, Inner World Peace finds its balance. The first order of business upon setting up camp in Brooklyn's Figure 8 studios was to project giant colorful slides the band had made for each track. Co-producing with Nate Mendelsohn, my Shitty Hits Recording partner, we aimed for FC's aesthetic idiosyncrasies to shine. The mood board for "Magnetic Personality" has a neon green and black checkerboard, a screen capture of the game Street Fighter with "K.O." in fat red letters, and a cover of Mad Magazine that says "Spy Vs. Spy! The Top Secret Files." On tracks like "F.O.O.F." (Freak Out On Friday), "Fragments" and "Aftershook," the group are at their most psychedelic and playful, interjecting fuzz solos, bits of percussion, and other sonically adventurous ear candy. An internal logic strengthens everything, and in their proggiest moments, Frankie Cosmos are simply a one-take band who don't miss. When on Inner World Peace they sound wildly, freshly different, it may just be that they're coming deeper into their own. Inner World Peace excels in passing on the emotions it holds. When in the towering "Empty Head" Kline sings of wanting to let thoughts slide away, her voice is buoyed on a bed of synths and harmonium as tranquility abounds. When her thoughts become hurried and full of desire, so does the band, and she leaps from word to word as if unable to contain them all. As a group, they carry it all deftly, and with constant regard for Kline's point of view. Says Greta, "To me, the album is about perception. It's about the question of "who am I?" and whether or not the answer matters. It's about quantum time, the possibilities of invisible worlds. The album is about finding myself floating in a new context. A teenager again, living with my parents. An adult, choosing to live with my family in an act of love. Time propelled us forward, aged us, and also froze. If you don't leave the house, who are you to the world? Can you take the person you discover there out with you?" - Katie Von Schleicher

Within the panorama and filmic landscapes that open up from the music, stories and fragments of stories are told, about people, the spaces they occupy, their closeness and the distance that lies between them. Written and recorded over 3 years in London, Switzerland and in an ancient barn not far from their Midland’s roots, founding members Simon and Justin Jones who form the core of ‘And Also ­The Trees’ with maverick drummer Paul Hill are joined for the first time by Grant Gordon on bass guitar and Colin Ozanne on clarinet. ­Their inclusion brings a twist to this band’s subtle yet intriguing evolution. ‘And Also ­The Trees’ have been performing live and creatively developing since they formed in rural Worcestershire at the beginning of the post punk era in 1980. Other than a period in their early years when they attracted attention from John Peel, the British music press and Th­e Cure with whom they worked and supported on tours, they have operated mainly under the radar of the media and music industry as a whole, drawing inspiration from the dark underbelly of the British countryside and touring each of their 14 albums across Europe and as far afield as the USA and Japan. It follows their 2016 release ‘Born Into ­The Waves’ an album that many considered to be their most accomplished. A rare accolade for a band of such longevity. AATT will be playing shows Summer and Autumn 2022 with a tour in Spring 2023. Tracklisting: 1. In A Bed In Yugoslavia 2. Beyond Action And Reaction 3. The Seven Skies 4. Th­e Girl Who Walks The City 5. Th­e Book Burners 6. Across The Divide 7. Another Town Another Face 8. Last Of The Larkspurs 9. The Bone Carver 10. Sun Of Kashiva

Anthology introducing the first of a series of albums based on the concept of Aquapelago.

‘’ Since the earliest days of the planet there has been a rhythm of tides that creates coastal interzones where humans have foraged and pursued various livelihoods. Developing boats to fish from and technologies that enabled them to immerse themselves deep underwater, the aquatic realm has been one explored, experienced and imagined in various ways. In an effort to express the vitality and richness of this environment I coined the term aquapelago in 2012. The wordplay was deliberate. The neologism was designed to distinguish the liquid inbetweenness of this space from the dry, scattered, lands of archipelagos.

The concept of the aquapelago coalesced around themes taken from various places. Epeli Hau’ofa’s idea of an Oceanic “sea of islands’” was formative but a number of songs were also inspirational. Torres Strait islander Seaman Dan captivated me with his experiences of pearl diving in the Darnley Deeps in his song ‘Forty Fathoms’ and Norfolk Islander singer Kath King imaged how sea-turtles might have experienced ecological change in her song ‘Tech me how fer lew’. Other reflections on watery realms also appealed. Debussy’s solo piano piece ‘La cathédrale engloutie’ soundtracked me as I researched myths of lost Lyonesse while Mike Cooper’s Kiribati, an ambient exoticist album about the imperilled archipelago (recently re-released on Discrepant), caused me to reflect on the social and cultural impact of sea level rise before that topic became a high-profile concern.

This compilation album takes the concept of the aquapelago into new depths and breaches it on fresh shores. The tracks are soaked with the aquatic. Bassy sonorities boom as if heard deep underwater. Bubbly textures breach the surface, water drips and seabirds soar high above waves. Sugai Kei samples fragments of text concerning the Ningen, a fantastic humanoid/whale that reflects the ‘aquapelagic imaginary’ of modern Japan and its preoccupation with industrial whaling. Andrew Pekler continues the orientation of his Phantom Islands project - a sonic atlas of imaginary places - with a soundscape as if heard by a swimmer just offshore, mixing sounds of the island and the sea together. Mike Cooper’s sonic reflection on Hong Kong’s Lamma Island is similar, combining the island’s ubiquitous barking dogs with the slurp of waves on rocky shores, conjuring a languorous time before Chinese crackdowns on the territory.

Taking another tack, the Dead Mauriacs gleefully water-ski through collage of tropical island exoticisms, replete with glitchy orientalism, while Babau combines skittering idiophone melodies with resonant glissandi. Vica Pacheco moves between dense and airy sounds, as if crossing between surf lines and the space above. Yannkick Dauby’s track is also imbued with in-betweenness, evoking ambient sounds heard through a ship’s hull. Sculpture’s ‘Froth Surfer’ realises its title, with bubbling sounds and rhythms that evoke Hawaiian surfing filtered through layers of time and distance. Reminding us of the shore necessary for aquapelagic spaces, Franceso Cavaliere and Tomoko Sauvage’s composition anchors the album, centred around shaken rhythms and resonant ringing tones and drones.

Taken together, the album sketches the contours of the aquapelago as it might be imagined and conjured in sound – an endless oceanic realm that laps on to beaches and crashes against cliffs. The performers navigate this space under alternately starry and cloudy skies, orientating themselves with sounds, textures and sonic samples of their terrestrial homes while we float with them. ‘’
Philip Hayward December 2021

REPRESS!

Returning for 2019 with our first 12-inch release, Made in Green Records concludes Rooteo & Mahura’s opening salvo, with reinterpretations from the artists themselves and the label head putting their marks on already-outstanding material. Leading off the release, we find the original ‘Caxixi’ from their debut LP, Mettā, with its tablas and vocals rubbing against billowing clouds of bass and dubwise effects; Made in Green boss Vasco Ispirian turns in the first rework, a thickly layered, relaxed tempo dub techno trip. Barely- recognizable remnants of the original’s percussion and vocal lines occasionally surface out of the subaquatic haze before surging kick drums push them back beneath the surface. Appearing here under his recently-birthed 4NYØN3 project, Rooteo, best known as Marcos In Dub, closes the release with a pounding techno remake that utterly transforms his own & Mahura’s work. Squashing the original’s ambient sonics into unstable delay traps that reappear prominently in the breakdowns, he grafts this into stringent techno, adroitly wrought and with details to spare, the scrambled fragments of sound emerging between heavy drums and contributing to the dark and downcast mood that pervades the piece.

Subb-an returns to 20/20 Vision with 'State Of Flow' featuring vocals from Oli Gosh (Crosstown Rebels). Ash Subhan has been an integral part of the deep house and techno scenes over the last decade and more with releases for One Records, Spectral and Culprit.

'State Of Flow' is a beautiful slice of deep techno that incapsulates atmospheric layers of melodies and vocals with powerful bottom heavy bass and percussive floor control. SOF is the first collaboration between Subb-an and singer songwriter Oli Gosh and has resulted in new directions and musical landscapes.ASOF comes complete with remixes from Adam Pits and Armec.
Adam Pits delivers a devious little gem aimed at dance-floor destruction that winds it's way between a heavy garage bassline and 90's four to floor house rhythms, fragmenting the vocal around an increasingly unhinged and infectious groove. It's fusion served at it's finest and a super fresh sound perfectly placed for the current club scene.

Armec accentuates and expands the immense power hidden in 'State Of Flow' by breakin' the beats up and adding heavily swung filtered loops snaking around a massive bass. The Armec remix comes complete with a twist to its tale with the additional of a magnificently wobbly arpeggiated synth twisting our melons into a right old state.

Basslines like a clumsy, exuberant puppy. A braid of guitar notes tickling your neck. The jittery buoyance of a marimba, so cartoonish you can picture its unblinking technicolor eyes. A snare that cracks like every friend knocking on your door at once. These are the fragmentary beats and visions that Josh Diamond and Eric Copeland spent the last two years exchanging, the magnetic, romantic, completely unashamed chunks stacked into the bubbling delight of "Riders on the Storm." These two are, yes, known for vastness, transcendence, and suffocation. Eric is a founding member of Black Dice, weaponizers of volume, misdirection, and alien language. Josh is a founding member of Gang Gang Dance, whose haunted, murky explorations drag listeners to infinite, irreversible revelations. Given these pedigrees, it's natural to anticipate their collaboration as an itchy, opaque monolith. Within the shit and terror of 2022 it's even understandable to yearn for something like that. But "Riders" with its light heart and wiggle and squirm is actually the record we need. "It's intentional," confirmed Josh of the record's lightness: "just wanting to make the opposite of what's going on outside." Eric reinforced this feeling of liberation and inversion, recalling the freedom of sharing unfinished ideas, of trusting Josh's creativity. "Nobody was vying for anything," he explained, "we were just trying to do it for each other." The completed exchange of sound unrolls like a laughter-filled conversation, Josh and Eric each banking on the other's improvements and re-configurations. The most remarkable thing about this trust, this generosity, is how their pair have managed to invite listeners into it, making everyone a part of this free-spirited dance. "Riders on the Storm" is the first full length collaboration between Josh Diamond and Eric Copeland, following their contribution to Mary Staubitz and Russ Waterhouse's 2020 `Distant Duos' project. It was recorded and mixed with the guidance of Ivan Berko (Hidden Fees, Ghost Exits). In addition to their work with Black Dice and Gang Gang Dance, Eric and Josh are both solo artists. Diamond released his debut solo album, "Seek Rips," in 2021. Copeland released his 16th solo album, "Spiral Stairs," in 2022.

Deep-listening organ piece from Malaysia-born, Berlin-based composer Rishin Singh, performed by Martin Sturm on the Lizst organ in Thuringia, Germany. RIYL: Kali Malone, Anna von-Hausswolff - "An endless and captivating exploration of one organ's timbres and tones. Both whispered and shouted, large and small, close and far, Singh's work is both unsettling and a balm, and has invited me to reconsider pitch, consonance, dissonance, tension and release." – Clarice Jensen, artistic director of the American Contemporary Music Ensemble (ACME) In the 1850s the influential composer Franz Liszt, who was living in Weimar, Germany at the time, carried out, with the famous cantor Alexander Wilhelm Gottschalg, a series of “ländlichen Orgelexperimente” (rural organ experiments) in Thuringia – investigating various instruments and their capabilities for contemporary music. They eventually settled on the organ in Denstedt because of its high quality. Many years later, award-winning organist Martin Sturm would invite the Berlin-based composer Rishin Singh to repeat these “ländlichen Orgelexperimente” with him and they again chose the organ at Denstedt, now named in honour of Liszt, as the best instrument – the most flexible and expressive – to perform and record Singh's music for organ. mewl infans is a contemporary classical piece that invites modern listeners to ponder the enduring pull of an instrument that was first conceived more than 2,000 years ago and has, in recent years, been rediscovered by a new generation of composers and listeners. Throughout the larger architecture of the four movements, melodic motifs return over and over, fractured by noise, fragmented by carefully calibrated alternate tunings, dissolving into thin air, and generating drones which then transform into new melodic variations. Over the 44 minutes of the piece the organist at times attempts to exert complete control over the instrument, and at other times relinquishes all control entirely. Conceptually rigorous and emotionally charged, mewl infans rewards deep listening and patience. At times conjuring a sense of doom, at other times suspense, pastoral drift, or aquatic submersion, the album is a universe of tiny details comprised of noise and air, of the journey each tone takes from birth to expiration. HIGHLIGHTS: – Singh has been commissioned by the GRAMMY-nominated JACK Quartet. Premiere in NYC Spring 2023 – Collaborations between Singh and Sturm are ongoing: Sturm will premiere Singh’s concerto for organ, timpani, and string orchestra later this year – Sturm is the youngest professor of organ in German history – The debut album from Singh‘s ensemble Leider, A Fog Like Liars Loving, was released by Beacon Sound in May of 2021 Bios: Martin Sturm, born 1992 in South Germany, in an International award-winning organist (ION, Schwäbisch Gmünd, Festival St Albans, Haarlem, Bavarian Culture Prize, and Keck-Köppe Foundation). He performs regularly as an interpreter and organ improviser at festivals, churches, and concert halls around the world. In 2019 he was appointed Professor for Organ and Organ Improvisation at the University of Music “Franz Liszt” in Weimar (Germany), after teaching at the Universities of Music in Würzburg and Leipzig. Rishin Singh (b. Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia) is a composer and trombonist living in Berlin. He has been commissioned to compose for the JACK Quartet (US), Piano+ (US), Claire Edwardes (AUS), DNK Ensemble (NL), Prof. Martin Sturm (DE), the Amsterdam Wandelweiser Festival (NL), Quiet Music Ensemble (IE), and others. Upcoming premieres include “every day” a concerto for organ, timpani, and string orchestra (Martin Sturm, Thuringia, 2022), and “melancholy objects” a string quartet (the JACK Quartet, New York, Spring 2023). He is currently working on his first chamber opera and is the composer and lyricist for the art song ensemble Leider.

Grey Marbled Vinyl

Clear water hits the surface of a grainy ball. The stream slowly dissolves and flows down the spherical structure until it finally drops on a candle. The flame extinguishes; fragile streaks of smoke ascend until they hit the rough surface of the colossal globe again.
The cover art to Marble Arch, the second long-player of Vienna- and Berlin-based artists Oberst & Buchner, depicts masterly the dramatic juxtapositions the musicians have always been reflecting in their musical outcome.
The massive density of a giant sound wall is contrasted by spacious openness. Fragile sonic details are sparkling out of colossal pitch-black clouds. The songs are filled with gentle warmth and cold roughness, bright digital clarity and deep analogue crackle, ranging in style from pulsating dark-disco over classic pop to experimental ambient.
The duo's two-week artist residency in a 250-year-old house, located in the mystic landscape of the Bavarian woods set this specific mood for the 10-track album which became a mixture of electronic synthesis, organic instrumentals and field recordings. Heavy-weight basslines in combination with bitter-sweet orchestral instrumentation and the minutiae of precise percussion recordings and drum programming are the characteristics that formed the sound of Marble Arch.
Oberst & Buchner's way to deal with tension is in how they compose their song structures as extreme arcs of suspense in a near classical manner. Their intense dynamic arrangements always alternate between rise and explosion or implosion and fall. This way the compositions pick up the motive of creation and destruction throughout the long-player in the same way as the cover-art.
Taken together, all these fragments form the duo`s signature cinematic articulation of dramatic slowed down club music and moments of surprise.

BIO
Oberst & Buchner are two friends and musicians living in Vienna and Berlin. They look back on a mutual musical journey that is as rich in variety as it is more then 15 years long. For one thing, countless high-energy DJ sets in clubs and at festivals all over Europe in recent years have earned them a reputation as a dynamic duo infernale. At the same time, their own productions draw from the full palette of moods and emotions.
Boiled down to the very essence, there's one common denominator running through the duo's musical works: colossally massive elements are masterfully set against a shimmering backdrop of incredibly detailed layers. Each so full of subtle suspense that they feel like the first raindrops before a monstrous thunderstorm. You can literally hear the calm before the storm in every break they build up, then feel the force of the wind in your face when it hits you.
Ranging from pulsating electronica over slow organic sounds derived from both nature and acoustic instruments to deep dance pop ballads, their songs are full of suspense and packed with drama. In their productions, the two friends conjure up soundscapes that are extremely dense and at the same time infinitely open and spacious. Within this framework, they play with stark contrasts of antithetic elements: repetition and improvisation, functionality and emotions, emptiness and overload, clarity and crackling.

This album presents two multichannel works recorded at the seminal INA GRM Studio in Paris and ZKM Institute in Karlsruhe respectively, mixed to stereo at the composer's Cellule 75 Studio in Hamburg with excellent mastering by Rashad Becker. While his releases under the Black To Comm moniker often touched the fringes of acousmatic techniques and Musique Concrete this is Richter's first foray into a more abstract spatial music.

Recorded in the week leading up to the Paris terror attacks at the GRM studio, "Diode, Triode" (21:57) is loosely based on a reading of (and, in parts, a failure to understand) "Le Parasite" (1980) by Michel Serres, a philosophic metaphor about human interaction and communication (which can also be interpreted as a lyrical essay on capitalism; part confusion, part enlightenment).

As core elements Richter is using speech synthesis and the transformation and distortion of concrete sounds, instruments, voices and breathing. Abstract incognisable sounds are combined with strings, reeds and percussion while dismembered musical fragments emerge and vanish rapidly. Chunks of interfering noise are followed by long periods of silence; chaos and order are alternating. Choirs of synthetic and processed human voices are recounting stock market values, seemingly random sequences of numbers and inscrutable lyrics while parasitic sounds are trying to crack, collapse and fractionise the compositional stream and sonic interactions. Finally, a haunting piano chord is wrestling with a broken Publison machine. Like the book, it's part confusing, part enlightening - and a radical piece of sonic art.

"We are buried within ourselves; we send out signals, gestures, and sounds indefinitely and uselessly. No one listens to anyone else. Everyone speaks; no one hears; direct or reciprocal communication is blocked." (Le Parasite)

"Diode, Triode" was premiered on the Acousmonium at INA GRM's Akousma Festival in Paris, January 22, 2016 alongside new works by François Bayle, Robert Hampson, Leo Kupper and Ragnar Grippe.

The second piece "Spiral Organ of Corti" (17:00) has been composed in 2014 for the 47-speaker Klangdom concert hall at ZKM Karlsruhe at the foot of the Black Forest (where Richter was born and raised).

How does one listen with closed ears? Sine tones, alienated human voices and breathing noises build a labyrinthine puzzle alternating between the natural and the artificial. Human sounds merge with winds and strings, sine tones morph into metal sounds. Acoustic illusions confuse the listener, and dense noise-clouds slowly emerge from deceptive silence. Deep base sounds define space. Temporary focus glides into chaos. "Spiral Organ of Corti" is yet another extended composition that proves Richter is on a path of his very own.

"Spiral Organ of Corti" is dedicated to the late Gary Todd.

"Tongues that came from wind and noise. To speak in tongues after the fire." (Le Parasite)

Marc Richter records as Black To Comm for Thrill Jockey, Type and Dekorder and under the Mouchoir Ètanche and Jemh Circs monikers for his own Cellule 75 imprint. He collaborated with visual artists such as Ho Tzu Nyen, Jan van Hasselt and Mike Kelley. Under his own name he is composing for film and installations.

Synthetic Music From Yugoslavia 1980-1989

"The galloping technical progress in the second half of the last century dominated all spheres of daily life, art and culture. In the music industry machines took over the role of classical instruments and did not stop at RnR, punk nor industrial music. No one could resist the challenge, but also the prevailing trends in the 80s. The music industry was influenced by the electronic virus globally, not sparing even the remotest corners of the planet, producing bands like Depeche Mode, New Order, Soft Cell or lesser known ones like Liquid Liquid, Section 25, The Wake as well as the pioneers of the electronic music Silver Apples, Pierre Henry,etc .
What was going on in the music industry of former Yugoslavia and at Jugoton, the biggest YU music label at that time? The all over answer is given by a new release of Everland Music: Electronic Jugoton - Synthetic music from Yugoslavia 1964. - 1989. Vol. 1

Electronic Jugoton is the first part of two double albums, where the second part will even go back to pre-electronic music from 1964. Both double albums were initially released by Croatia Records (ex-Jugoton) in 2014 on a 2CD set with no less than two and a half hours of material (47 songs, 35 performers), showing the contemporary trend of Jugoton at that time towards avant-garde and provocative directions in electronic music. This untimely compilation is released for the first time on vinyl now on two double LPs, housed in gatefold sleeves by Everland Music, where part 2 will be released in 2023.
The brave and insightful creators of the compilation Electronic Jugoton, veteran crate diggers Višeslav Laboš and Zeljko Luketić, have excelled at reconstructing the musical past of electronic music in Yugoslavia from 1964 – 1989. Jugoton's extensive research included the most exciting and progressive moments of pop and disco music, early rap, electronic responses of new wave, RnR, post punk and industrial bands to the current trend of the 80s, but also pioneers of avant-garde electronic music.

Electronic Jugoton part 1 is officially opened by the band Laboratorija with the song Devica 69, which opens a window to a completely new and experimental world in former Yugoslavia.Laboš and Luketić have boldly chosen the material without reservations, suggesting that for the first time in one place we have a section of forgotten, unique underground bands like Beograd, Data, Brazil, The Master Scratch band, DU DU A and beyond.
Besides the excellent underground bands, we find popular performers of the time performing less well-known songs: Denis & Denis, Oliver Mandić, Slađana & Neutral Design.

Electronic Jugoton part 2 is partly dedicated to unique electronic music in the performance of important Yugoslav punk, new wave, RnR and industrial bands: Zana, Pekinška patka, Električni orgazam and Borghesia, while the second part of the material is focused on avant-garde early electronic music in Yugoslavia, where the works of composers Igor Savin, Branimir Sakac, Igor Kuljerić and Miroslav Miletić were presented. Luketić and Laboš rescued the obscure electronic tune Elektra by Zdenka Kovačiček, who was at that time Jugoslovska Soul and funk diva.

The uniqueness and quality of this compilation are also audio stories for children, which were extremely fertile ground for an experimentation with electronic sounds, as they should be highly imaginative to attract the attention of the childrens. Electronic Jugoton is also the first compilation in which the listener will find fragments of interviews with actors from the time gave for Jugoton Express. This was a series of promo vinyls printed in extremely small quantities in the 80's and intended to be exclusively for radio stations. An average of 30 minutes of promotion material and interviews with musicians were available for the first time through this compilation.

The value of this compilation is time and priceless. The only question is whether you will be fast enough to catch your copy of the limited double vinyl editions!"

LP on classic black vinyl. The long-awaited new album from the best pop band in Scotland... The Orchids were making sophisticated pop music right back in the early 1990s when Sarah Records first started. Their songs were as emotionally pure as anything else on that label, but they were always a step ahead of their peers in terms of song arrangements and musical ambition. With a casual, unpretentious air they made writing perfect pop songs seem easy, almost accidental, and several great releases followed. The Orchids gained a passionate following: people knew a good thing when they heard it and they hugged it close. But maybe now it’s time for the rest of the world to be let in on the secret. The songs themselves are a beautiful mix of strength and gentleness. They wrap you in a powerful embrace, making you feel comfortable and secure – and then whisper their insecurities and anxieties into your ear. They say: ‘it’s OK to admit weakness. It’s OK to be fragile. That’s where true strength comes from’. From Glasgow, and proudly Scottish, the band shares a musical lineage with other great groups from that city, from Aztec Camera to Orange Juice, Lloyd Cole to Teenage Fanclub - bands that specialise in song-writing that can tell big stories through small personal fragments, that can make the ordinary extraordinary. Ian Carmichael has helped the band create a perfectly produced masterpiece. He subtly accentuates the drama of the songs, with a sophisticated choreography and gloss that never overwhelms the tenderness of the music. In ‘This Boy Is A Mess’ (the first single from the album), the lyric confesses frailty while the arrangement gets stronger and stronger. It is bittersweet and exhilarating at the same time. ‘I Want You, I Need You’ has harmonies as big as a house – but the yearning message remains intimate and close. ‘I Don’t Mean To Stare’ is an elegant version of the song that first appeared on Skep Wax compilation Under The Bridge. Album opener ‘Didn’t We Love You’ daringly opens up empty spaces where the reverb of the drums is the only thing you can hear... and then floods your ears with a harmonised chorus, sweet guitar melodies and sweeping effects. Even then, the lyrical lament, expressing the desire to live in a better place - a place unspoilt by the greedy phonies who’ve taken over – comes across as clearly as if Hackett were leaning over for a friendly chat in the snug bar of The Orchids’ favourite Glasgow pub. Dreaming Kind will be released as a CD, digital download and vinyl LP.

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce Drumming Up Trouble, the first release of previously unissued music by Alvin Curran on the label. Collecting works recorded between 2018-2021 and a side-long epic dating back to the early 80s, as the title suggests, Drumming Up Trouble focuses on a hitherto almost unknown aspect of Curran’s encyclopaedic and omnivorous musical world: his experiments with sampled and synthesised percussion. As Curran’s wonderful, wildly sweeping liner notes make clear, his fascination with drumming belongs to the radical investigation of music’s fundamental elements that has marked his output since the beginnings of MEV, who aimed (as he says in a recent interview) to return ‘in some collective way to a non-existent start time in the history of human music’. Whatever kind of music our proto-human ancestors played, he writes, ‘drums were front and centre in the mix. Drums rule!’

In a paradox typical of Curran’s approach, Drumming Up Trouble interrogates this most ancient dimension of music with contemporary technology. On the first side, we hear recent pieces performed using the sampling software and full-size MIDI keyboard setup Curran has refined since the 1980s. Two of them are wild real-time improvisations, primarily utilising an enormous bank of hip-hop samples. Building from polyrhythmic layers of drum machine fragments to wild cacophonies of clashing vocal samples, scratching, and frantic pitch shifting, these energetic and at times hilarious pieces occupy a space somewhere between John Oswald’s Plunderphonics, Pat Thomas and Matt Wand in the Tony Oxley Quartet, and the propulsive Kudoro/Grime fusion of Lisbon’s Príncipe label. They are improvisations are accompanied by two austere, minimal compositions realised in collaboration with Angelo Maria Fallo: ‘End Zone’ for orchestral bass drum and high oscillator, and ‘Rollings’, where a snare roll is gradually stretched and filtered by digital means into ‘floating electronic gossamer’.

The incredible breadth of Curran’s output makes it pretty unlikely that a listener familiar with his work would be surprised to find it branching out in a new direction. But no degree of familiarity with his work can really prepare for side B’s epic and bizarre ‘Field it More’. It’s perhaps best to let the maestro describe this unhinged and infectious offering in his own words: ‘It features an 8 bar funky minimal riff à la James Brown, played on synth and an-out-of-tune piano, synced to a pre-paid patch on the Roland drum machine. Over this is laid a heavily processed track of the voices of dancer Yoshiko Chuma and movie-maker Jacob Burckhardt discussing an upcoming performance of theirs at the Venice film festival, capped by a track of my playing an increasingly out of control blues over the top of all of the above’. Only Pekka Airaksinen’s Buddhas of the Golden Light comes to mind as a reference point that might even vaguely compare to this wild home-brew of drum-machine funk, mad improvisation and squelching electronics, which eventually dissolved into a massive, layered cluster. Ancient and modern, synthetic and human, hysterical and rigorous, Drumming up Trouble is 100% Curran.

Somewhere in the middle of the first track, “Torres e Baldios”, there’s a sudden change of pace with percussion rhythms interfering with the trance-like sound of the first six minutes. It sounds like steps, people running away on a corridor bashing their feet. It dazzles you because of how unexpected it is, how unpredictable those sounds sound like and, most of all, how it makes perfect sense. It is a monstrous piece. And the beginning of a new age for Ondness, in the same year he defied his Serpente moniker to create an absolute classic, “Dias da Aranha”.

What makes “Oeste A.D.” so remarkable is the intangible idea of nostalgia. “Aqua Matrix Alternative Nation” recreates with a slowed down mentality the theme of one of the main events of the Expo 98 in Lisbon. It’s nowhere similar to the original, what it does is to mess around with the global ideas that were such a big part of that event. The Portuguese musicians that were invited to collaborate with Expo 98 were mesmerized by the ideas of union and globalization, creating overpriced music that sounds like shit today. “Aqua Matrix Alternative Nation” messes around with that vibe in a positive way. Think Mark Leckey playing around with his rave memories. Same thing, but in Portugal we had Expo 98.

Jokes aside, B Side is more futuristic with “Torres e Baldios II” and “Endless Domingo”, a nod to “Endless Summer”, by Fennesz, and “Endless Happiness” (from “Beaches And Canyons”), by Black Dice, mashing up – freely - both covers and reminding of how great 2001/2002 was for experimental music. Both tracks are full of sci-fi drama and this sickness of the future that has been travelling with Ondness since its early days. But the approach here is somehow different. Before “Oeste A.D.” the Ondness sound was fragmented, sparse and intensively reflexive. There was this uncertainty to it that made the previously releases so good. But “Oeste A.D.” is full of clarity, the phrases are straightforward, and the music moves in one direction, continuously. Before, there were loads of unanswered questions. The only doubt is when will the world start to care and listen to Bruno’s brilliant music. Now sounds like a good time.    

"Full recording of one of the most engaging and beguiling Late Junction live sessions we’ve ever heard - the one off first meeting between Korean multi-instrumentalist Park Jiha and writer and performer Roy Claire Potter.
It’s an unlikely pairing which works from the first breath. Park Jiha plays the saenghwang, a Korean mouth organ which she blows in long multiphonics to set pace for Potter’s words. They unfurl a scene slowly in front of you, rich and focused, shifting your field of vision and drawing you in, elsewhere. It’s impossible not to follow, not to look for where they point. When the piri sounds for a flooded town on the B side, the water flows between your own feet; Potter’s words a sometimes frightening hörspiel in scouse.

Though the details are fine, the space each artist gives one another and their instruments, their language, is given to the listener in turn. A careful melody picks out a route for words with no fixed meaning, a body with no fixed direction, and we are invited to listen and see a kind of music made visible in its inference. A truly very special record we are very proud to share.
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Influenced by linguistics and performance theory, Roy Claire Potter makes performance, text, drawing, installation and film, and oen collaborates with musicians and sound artists to make audio for music festivals and radio. Across the wide range of their practice, Roy tells stories built from fragmented, intense images that depict moving bodies or domestic scenes and architectural settings. Roy’s interest in subtext and narrative sequencing is felt in the way they use fast-paced talking or reading speeds, and restricted or partial views of space. Complicated social or group dynamics, and the aftermath of violent events are common themes in Roy’s work and are usually treated with a dark, sometimes wilful humour.

Park Jiha creates exploratory music rooted in traditional Korean instrumental performance. To this session she brings three instruments: a Korean hammered dulcimer called a yanggeum, a saenghwang which is an instrument made of 24 slender bamboo pipes attached to a bowl and played like a harmonica and a double-reed bamboo flute called a piri, which sounds similar to an oboe.
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Recorded and mixed on: 30 January 2020 by Rob Winter, Pete Smith and Andy Rushton at Maida Vale Studios, London for “Late Junction - Roy Claire Potter and Park Jiha in session”. Produced by Rebecca Gaskell, Katie Callin and Alannah Chance at Reduced Listening for BBC Radio 3."

First ever retrospective of Phương Tâm, the groundbreaking Saigon teenager who became one of the first singers to perform and record rock and roll (known in Vietnam as nhạc kích động, or, action music) | 25 tracks spanning Phương Tâm’s recording career: early rock and roll, surf, twist, soul, blues and jazz ballads recorded in Saigon between 1964-1966, featuring electric guitars, contrabass, lush brass, saxophone, drums and organ, and rich backing vocal arrangements. | Produced by Mark Gergis (compiler of Sublime Frequencies’ 2010 compilation Saigon Rock and Soul) and Hannah Hà (daughter of Phương Tâm). | Audio restored and remastered from original records and reel tapes. | A family story – as told by Hannah Hà, whose dedication to discovering and sharing her mother’s musical legacy, is helping to put Phương Tâm back on center stage after 55 years | Adds critical context to the fragmented understanding of Vietnamese popular culture at the time.

The seductive first full-length from electronic composer and multi-disciplinary visual artist Amosphère. Born in China, partly educated in Japan and now residing in Paris, her work came to the attention of a wider circle of listeners when she was invited by Laurel Halo to perform as part of a 10-hour durational ambient concert at London's Mode Exchange in 2019. Amosphère uses a careful selection of vintage electronics, sophisticated harmonic sense, and keen compositional intelligence to invite listeners into a meditative sonic space. Time expands and contracts, simplicity reveals complexity, and repetition becomes patient transformation. Spreading out over six expansive yet self-contained tracks, more die of heartbreak serves as a perfect introduction to Amosphère's warmly enveloping approach to analogue sound. Developed from scores (contained in the accompanying booklet) using techniques from concrete poetry and graphic notation as well as fragments of traditionally notated material, these six pieces take in a broad sweep of moods and approaches, from the gently burbling layered monophonic patterns of the opening 'circuit of unconsciousness', reminiscent of the sun-drenched synth figures of 70s Alvin Curran, to the haunted gliding tones and reverberating pops of the closing 'melting a piece of cadmium'. At times starkly minimal and making bold use of the stereo field, Amosphère's production approach keeps the grit and grain of her analogue gear intact, at times calling to mind the work of pioneers like Delia Derbyshire and Eliane Radigue.

Limited to 500 copies worldwide.


Heavy as f-ck and deep as hell, this devastating split album gleefully corrupts and corrodes Dub’s sunshine reflections. Celebrating rhythm & noise in its dank echo chamber, these demolition dub tracks are built from obsessive studies in distortion, overdrive and seriously ruff textures, amongst an absolutely insane amount of sub-bass level.

‘Disintegration Dubs’ is a three way low end collision, between G36 (The Bug aka Kevin Martin/Gorgonn’s rig torturing beat project) and JK Flesh (Justin Broadrick of Godflesh/Jesu etc…). As the album title suggests, this instrumental pile up of floor crawling, sound system crushers, is a clearer sign than ever, that these three producers crave their dub cuts to be mutant and heavyweight, totally damaged and completely atomised. Dub as sonic obliteration

Anyone previously smitten by Techno Animal’s deeply psychedelic face off with Porter Ricks, on the long out of print ’Symbiotics’, or who worshipped Zonal’s recent rhythmic wreckage via Relapse records, will surely gorge greedily on Disintegration Dubs’. Likewise, newbies, who have snapped up this year’s ‘Fire’ by The Bug or ‘New flesh in dub’ by Godflesh, will find endless pleasure within these dread-tech, annihilated dubs and Industrial strength steppas rhythms. Echoes of Basic Channel, early Iration Steppas, Public Image Limited or even Andy Stott can be heard within this collection’s haunted atmospherics and bulldozing rumble. Yet, these three individual producers have obviously found their own recognisably original sound, within these monolithic grooves, and what makes this album so utterly refreshing, is just how well the three disparate sound manipulators complement each other fully, as they collectively set their sights on some shared, relentlessly futuristic sci-fi vision, for a new form of dub.

Obviously, Martin as The Bug, and Broadrick with his colossal dubs of Godflesh and his filthy back catalogue of JK Flesh releases, have both long since subscribed to the genre, aesthetic and fragmentation of Dub. Meanwhile relative newcomer, Gorgonn, is The Bug’s long time, live soundman, and former bandmate with DJ Scotch Egg in Devil Man, as well as having formed Dokkebi Q with Kiki Hitomi (ex-King Midas Sound), so he is no stranger to the art of deviant dubs either…

G36 dropped their appropriately titled debut EP ’Floor Weapons’, in 2018, on PRESSURE, as well as providing the backing riddim for the first ever release from Jamaican MC phenomena Nazamba, with his startling debut, ’Vexed’. Alternately, Justin has previously released seven albums solo, as JK Flesh, that systematically contorted, distorted and completely bastardised techno for labels such as Hospital Productions, Downwards and Speedy J’s Electric Deluxe… (Next year will also see a full JK Flesh album on PRESSURE too…!)

This album is Mastered by Stefan Betke aka POLE, at Scape Mastering.

‘4-Vesta’ is the brightest asteroid visible from Earth. Measuring around 500km in diameter, it’s one of the four largest objects in the asteroid belt between Jupiter and Mars. Fragments of Vesta have been found on Earth, as meteorites that were ejected into space after two collisions that left huge craters on its surface. These fragments show that Vesta was probably once a planet itself, made of the same material as the four terrestrial planets (Mercury, Venus, Earth and Mars).

It was an encounter with one of these fragments that inspired the name for Azu Tiwaline’s latest EP for I.O.T Records, ‘Vesta’, which features tracks that were written and recorded around the same time as ‘Magnetic Service’, her break-through EP for Livity Sound. Holding a piece of Vesta that had been found in the Saharan Desert - already a place of deep significance for her - she felt a sense of wonder, on a cosmic scale. In her hands, was an object so apparently familiar, of the same age and made of the same fundamental materials as the Earth on which she stood, yet from somewhere else entirely. A perfect name for the four tracks that make up ‘Vesta’. And also the perfect source material for the EP’s cover, an electron microscope image of a razor-thin slice of that same cosmic fragment that Azu held in her hand.

‘Vesta’ is familiar, yet distinct. It’s recognisably Azu Tiwaline from the very start, yet the unexpected always finds a way in. A booming, echoing kick opens ‘Low’, followed by the rattling, shivering sound of a tanbur hand-drum, courtesy of his regular collaborator, Franco-Iranian percussionist and producer Cinna Peyghamy. But then, tentatively at first, a jazzy synth line emerges, and disappears again, only to reappear later. An another colour to add to Azu Tiwaline’s already rich palette?

Azu Tiwaline’s music has always explored the dynamics between space and depth, and the contrasts between light and density. ‘Vesta’ often feels like a high-wire act, an exercise in finding space even as the air fills with drum patterns and synth lines. ‘Medium Time’ builds from a chorus of buzzing insects into a thick percussive track across eight minutes, without ever losing that initial wide-open sound of the dusk. ‘Into The Void’ pays homage to her well-worn collection of Rhythm & Sound and Basic Channel 12-inch singles, all swaying dub echoes and languid kick drums. Then mid-track, it pivots in intensity, each element suddenly expanded and magnified: a psychedelic shift. Those who’ve had the chance to see Azu Tiwaline perform in the past few years might get a few flashbacks - it’s been a key part of her live set.

But it’s the final track ‘Deep Theko’ that best fits the EP’s cosmic title. A shape-shifting ‘ambient’ track that never seems to settle, it drifts restlessly, sporadic percussion and synth washes injecting random bursts of activity. A sonic representation of planetary debris floating through space? Here, as with the airless void of space, emptiness enables a certain perspective. If the distances between the stars weren’t so enormous, we wouldn’t be able to gaze upon them in their entirety, after all.