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After A First Ep Acclaimed As A « Summer Soundtrack 2018 » In France, Young Miel De Montagnewill Release His First Lp, Between Pop (muddy Monk, Flavien Berger ..) And Electronics (salut C'est Cool, Jacques ...), That Makes Him One Of The Most Attended French Electro-pop Artist.

The first studio album of the albanese duo I TPAME I TVRAME 'IKIN VIJNE¨' is a catching, surprising and innovative masterpiece work composed of 10 new songs where they shown how noise can be dominated. If you follow and likes projects such as November No¨velet, Portishead, Tropic Of Cancer or Not Waving, more than likely this album will be a highlight of your collection. It will be presented on DOUBLE 12 EP format and produced in a ONE-OFF truly extra limited edition of 200 copies lacquered pressed on 140 gr. high quality solid black vinyl. All tracks have been specially mastered and remastered for LONG CUT vinyl by Eric Van Wonterghem.

Commix completes his Generation EP series with part 3, carrying on from where the 2nd instalment left off. Again, the EP explores Commix's influences from electronic music and beyond, culminating in an extremely polished final part that we're excited to release.

With Lukas Lehmann, a new face joins the footjob-squad. Out of his estimated 7.436 unfinished projects, he managed to complete three tracks, bag a remix and bundle it all up to what will hit the stores as 'This Is Why' EP. The A-Side kicks off with the discoish banger 'Q&H' and a beautiful synth-heavy remix by Lorenz Rhode - not only famous for his releases on Compost Records or Exploited but also for taking Detroit-Swindle-Liveshows to another level with his godlike keys-skills. The deeper side of Lukas' sound is represented on the B-Side. Starting with edgy piano chords, 'Solid/Fragile (Coexistence)' introduces an enchanting arpeggio midway through the track. With its distinctive strings, 'Nothing But A Heartache' makes for a semi-sentimental yet still hips-moving finisher.

Hailing from Paris, Mikado featured singer Pascale Borel and instrumentalist Gregori Czerkinsky. As well as cult debut single Par Hasard, issued by Crepuscule in October 1982, the remastered collection includes subsequent singles Naufrage en Hiver, Carnaval and La Fille du Soleil as well as debut album Mikado from 1985, executive produced by Haruomi Hosono of Yellow Magic Orchestra.

Bonus tracks include b-sides, jungles, and several demo songs for an unfinished second album. There is also an English language version of Par Hasard (Romance), Christmas album track Noel Sous le Soleil, plus a previous unreleased cover version of the theme from Night of the Hunter.

Cover photography is by Pierre et Gilles, the famous French artists celebrated for creating a world where painting and photography meet. The 2xCD edition is housed in a 6 panel digipack with a 12 page booklet. The double vinyl set comes in a gatefold sleeve and includes a free digital copy.

Don't shoot me, I'm only the piano player.

The Scene: The Welsh mountains, remote and harsh, a special place. A good place to produce a special album. The characters: Volker Bertelmann in his friend Adam Fuests' studio, equipped with only a piano and a laptop. The Project: To record a album of piano music. Title: Hauschka.

Piano music is highly personal music, which is the reason why piano solo albums occupy a particular place of importance in a musician's work - not that Volker Bertelmann wants to hype his first foray to that extent, hence the pseudonym. Nevertheless Hauschka is personal music, simply because it has accompanied him for so long, because it has always been there in some shape or form, because it has always been important. The title points to the fact that it is dealing with something of import, not just a few finger exercises or background ivory-tinkling.

Substantial' is a snapshot of a life spent with the black and white keys, and is simultaneously both moment and history, thought and feeling, yet without turning into a unduly meaningful concept album. Rather, Substantial' is based upon the least conceptual of all concepts: Improvisation. Each track is based upon an opening sequence, the theme of which is extended, modulated and varied with, as far as form or length is concerned, no specific objective in mind. What has come out is music of a differing, well, substance: Eleven atmospheric pieces in which a variety of different techniques overlap and rhythmical images with narrative depth unfold, in which further instruments, such as double bass or vibraphone make a fleeting appearance, at once lending a hint of pop, but at no time detracting from the piano as central instrument, in which experimental and electronic music is accessed without compromising the directness and ease of the improvisational approach.

The confluence of Bertelmann's multiple musical personality can be apprehended here: Whilst the pop-oriented musician plays the melody, the electronic producer gently experiments with sounds, leaving the pianist quite literally to manipulate the piano, - plucking the strings with a plectrum, dampening them or bowing them lengthways to achieve a variety of percussive effects. Following the recording, the tracks were adapted, supplemented and finalized. Using multi-tracking, up to four piano tracks were superimposed, electronic sounds from the laptop added, as well Stefan Schneider's bass (Mapstation, To Rococo Rot, Music A.M.) on three tracks.

Nachdem er 2015 die Marke von einer Milliarde Streams schneller erreicht hat als jemals ein Küns
tler vor ihm, schickt 2016
sich sogar an, für Kyrre Gørvell Dahl aka KYGO noch größer zu werden: Hier sind die Details seines Debütalbums 'Cloud
Nine'.
Das Album ist seit 18 Monaten in Arbeit und wurde den Fans erstmals im Februar angeteased, jetzt gibt d
ie norwegische
Dance
-Sensation ein bestätigtes Release-Datum für 'Cloud Nine' bekannt, enthüllt das exklusive Artwork von niemand
Geringerem als Mr. Brainwash und veröffentlicht seine brandneuen Tracks 'Fragile' featuring Labrinth 'Raging' feat. Kodaline
u
nd all das kann ab sofort vorbestellt werden.
'Cloud Nine', dessen komplettes Tracklisting demnächst bekanntgegeben wird, erscheint am 13. Mai 2016 auf Sony Music
International/Ultra Music/B1 Recordings.
Nach über acht Millionen verkauften Tonträgern sei
t dem Originalrelease von 'Firestone' in 2014, hat Kygo ein Who-
is-Who
der Kollaborateure zusammengebracht, die ihn auf einem der am sehnlichsten erwarteten Alben 2016 unterstützen werden








G b4 | I'm in Love (feat. James Vincent McMorrow)

Memory Remains unveils a deeply emotional and intimate Unknown Artist release, a record driven by feeling rather than form.
Shaped and refined through careful dancefloor testing across 2025, these tracks revealed a rare sensitivity: minimalist structures wrapped in warm grooves, gentle tension, and soulful, intimate vocals that connect on a subconscious level.

This is music that doesn’t demand attention. It breathes, resonates, and stays.
Free from names and narratives, the release invites the listener into a private emotional space, where sound speaks louder than identity.
The journey is visually completed by an original artwork from Alisa Kirik, capturing the same fragile beauty and timeless mood that defines this release on Memory Remains.

For his new full-length on Second End Records, Lyon-based artist Jonnnah turns deeply inward. Conceived as a form of therapy, as much as a reflection and a testimony, the record retraces a process of introspection and confrontation with one’s own history, looking back at origins, DNA, and the invisible ties that connect us to our ancestors, while opening paths toward new connections.

The double-sided structure of the album makes this journey tangible. The first side lingers in uncertainty : opaque atmospheres, fragmented rhythms, and restless textures mirror the doubts, questions, and fragile states of self-analysis. The second side, in contrast, embraces clarity and resolution, dense yet luminous soundscapes where reconciliation and acceptance take shape, culminating in The Blue Comet, a piece charged with finality and revelation.

Opening with the multipart suite N-zero, symbolizing the beginning of therapy, and closing with O-one, evoking the soul’s original purity, the record traces a complete emotional and spiritual cycle. Between them, the third edition of Insomnia Never Ends once again portrays the struggle between sleep and the irresistible pull of musical distraction, a fragile tension that runs through the album as a whole.

The record condenses Jonnnah’s language into something rawer and more direct. Layers of dub and dub sonic resonate against ethereal ambient passages, while techno impulses maintain tension and forward motion. Each piece feels at once intimate and expansive, designed as much for solitary listening as for collective experience.

A new chapter in Jonnnah’s trajectory, the album is a document of transformation : from shadow to light, from questioning to acceptance.

Demilitarize follows Nazar’s remarkable 2020 debut Guerrilla, which reprocessed Angolan kuduro music with rough textures, field recordings and media clips, telling a personal story of the civil war that exiled his family to Europe, while his father, a rebel General, fought a losing battle in the jungle back home. After Guerrilla, and an extended period of serious illness, now Demilitarize is motivated by a reckoning with mortality and the flowering of new love, turning the ‘rough kuduro’ of Guerrilla inside out.This is a deep sound world, genuinely dreamy, the arc of the album describing shedding the armour of trauma and surrendering to this new situation. A constant and unexpected aspect of Demilitarize is Nazar's gentle, submerged vocal. Insistent and mantra-like, it’s like a cross between Elisabeth Frazer, Arthur Russell and Frank Ocean, and the music is fragile and opaque in response. The rhythms of kuduro are still here,but move around his voice like fish around a swimmer, while precise sound design illuminates from different angles. Chords spiral, ripple and shoot through the beats giving tracks the loosest of settings; songs disassemble; vocals float off-centre.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Phonica welcomes Mattias El Mansouri, a Swedish-born DJ and producer of Moroccan/Chilean descent who has been behind some of our favourite releases over the past few years on labels such as Aniara and Nous'klaer.

On the 'Sense Data' 12", El Mansouri expands on his atmospheric House and Techno explorations with three deep yet dancefloor primed pieces that hold personal resonance for him.

El Mansouri, who holds a degree in Theoretical Philosophy, explains:

"'Sense Data' are the immediate elements of perception; what is directly given to the senses before any judgment or interpretation. In vision, these appear as colored, shaped patches; in other senses, as sounds, tastes, smells, or tactile qualities. For example, seeing a brown table with a white coaster involves sense data of a brown patch and a white roundish patch, from which one infers the presence of a table and coaster."

On the record's flip, we have the beautiful "Cielo Vacío' and 'Ouzo Hallon' dub version of 'Sense Data'. El Mansouri continues:

"Cielo Vacío translates to “empty sky” in Spanish. The track serves as a eulogy for my brother, who passed away in December 2023. I chose this title because it resonates with the sonic and emotional atmosphere of the piece. Its ambiguity is intentional, carrying both the weight of grief that lingers after losing someone you love, and a strange, fragile peace you extend toward the departed. It reflects the hope that, wherever they are, whether or not one believes in an afterlife, they have found rest.

Ouzo Hallon translates to Ouzo (the Greek liquor)+Hallon (Raspberry). It’s a long drink that my (Greek) ex came up with last summer, mixing ouzo, raspberry syrup/raspberry juice and ice. It became a thing in our little friend group, consisting of mostly Greeks, and every time we all hang out we would all just drink ouzo hallon until we couldn’t stand straight. I always wanted to name a track Ouzo Hallon, just for the fun of it, and what better way to get the chance than now!"

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

The latest from master editor Mr. K, a jazz-funk classic backed by a Philly sure shot!

Debuting in 1975, the jazzy RnB instrumental ‘Always There’ from original Earth Wind and Fire saxophonist Ronnie Laws was a hidden gem until Side Effect’s vocal version took off the following year, one of many cover versions to come (Incognito’s hit the pop top ten in the ’90s). Mr. K's edit streamlines the original, mimicking Side Effect’s distinctive horn stab intro and adding a DJ-friendly drums-only outro. With original 7-inch releases being either fragile styrene or unreasonably short, this extended vinyl pressing is very welcome.

A song that needs no introduction—coming from the very best there is—the O’Jays backed by MFSB! ‘For the Love of Money’ rides one of the most immense bass lines ever committed to wax and, while that would be enough to carry a track on its own (see the Armada Orchestra’s cover), here we have the talents of the timeless O’Jays vocals to top things off. Mr. K has found the perfect balance between the Lp and single versions, giving us the very best DJ-friendly 7" mix that should never leave your bag.

Signaling their long-anticipated debut on ICONYC, the label welcomes acclaimed Italian duo Glowal with their Future Faces EP. Uncompromising in its intent, this two-track capsule extends the duo’s emotional vocabulary, threading new ideas through their unmistakable sonic lens for a release that underscores the expressive precision at the heart of their craft.

Casting their gaze forward on “Future Faces”, Fabio Giannelli and Alessandro Gasperini open proceedings with a fractured rhythmic chassis driven by a throbbing low-end pulse that warps with each passing beat. Heavy percussive strikes carve their path into the night before a disarming female vocal emerges from the shadows, injecting a sense of yearning and fragile wonder into the piece. A sudden brake—like tires skidding across rain-slick asphalt—ushers in laser-etched synth lines that cry out with an anthemic resolve, while iridescent sequences bubble to the surface, sealing a striking first statement on the label.

Turning the corner, Glowal unveil the esoteric “Desert Soul,” a slow-burning reverie that expands on the EP’s emotional terrain. Patiently unfolding over fragmented rhythms and a meandering bassline, neon traces guide us toward a robotic vocal presence that introduces a subtle human-machine tension. Stripped to a minimal core yet rich in sentiment, “Desert Soul” resonates with quiet introspection—an understated meditation on self-discovery that lingers well beyond its final echo.

Between flesh and silicon. “Under My Skin” (2026) is the first album by IADI, released by Neo Life. A record like few
others, highly conceptual, cover art included. Its essence lies in the folds of the increasingly ambiguous relationship
between man and machine, where the former designs the latter and, perhaps without fully realizing it, is gradually
destined to adapt and be reprogrammed by it. Each track of “Under My Skin” is, in fact, a sort of interface, connector, or
any other imaginative point of contact between two creative phases, amid emotional impulses and binary calculations.
The sonic architecture oscillates between analog warmth and algorithmic coldness, constructing landscapes in which
pulsating synthesizers and mechanical rhythms seem to question each other. There's no linear narrative, but rather a
progressive immersion in a zone of near-friction, where the comfort of technology coexists with more than a faint
musical uneasiness, like a background noise that never ceases to remind you who's truly in charge. In “Under My Skin”,
the machine is neither an enemy nor a simple instrument: it's a real presence, intimate, even tactile, amplifying desires,
fears, and dreams of dawns beyond the digital realm. Intelligent dance music. Less noise, more sensations. Electronic,
but profoundly human.
The final result, then, is a music project that speaks to the present, yet sounds like an X-ray of the future, capturing that
fragile moment when humanity and technology stop observing each other from afar and begin to merge, track after
track. It's no coincidence that IADI's album opens with “Impulse”, an immediate expression of an electrical impulse, for
both humans and machines, which is also the language of the nervous system, as fast as it is vital—pure energy and
rhythm, a track as intense as it is irregular. And after this introduction, it's the turn of the equally erratic “Axon”, whose
title describes the neuron that transmits the signal over distance, telling the listener to sit back and relax for a new
journey through the notes toward the more melodic “Cortex”. The cerebral cortex, the ultimate seat of thought and
memory, becomes the source from which the musical flow of the first part of the work is drawn.
Then, suddenly, an automatic, or instinctive, response to the constant succession of impulses: “Reflex”, or zerotemperature techno, with a fragmented pace, featuring vocal samples, breaks, and restarts. In the producer's
imagination, the subsequent, and conversely placid, “Neuron” represents the emotional core of the second part of the
work, providing a kind of respite from the seething vibrations. While the neuron is the basic unit of the nervous system,
the synapse is the functional connection point between one neuron and another effector cell, essential for the
transmission of nerve impulses and communication in the nervous system, enabling functions such as learning and
movement. Likewise, a track like “Synapse” once again illuminates the path traced by IADI. The more experimental and
streamlined “Static” instead suggests true ordered chaos. “Dreamstate” is the conclusion suspended in the void, relating
to that dreamlike state between waking and sleeping, where consciousness fades toward infinity and visions begin. Pure
fading into the subconscious. Eternal return to where it all began. Dancing is a form of consciousness. Every beat is a
question. IADI, however, holds all the answers you need.

Hild unites US sound sculptor zake and UK-based rhubiqs in a transatlantic collaboration steeped in plenty of their signature patience and emotional gravity. Across four slow-burning movements, deep drones, hushed piano lines and glacial textures unfold with cinematic allure as vastness and intimacy coexist. Rooted in both artists' post-rock backgrounds, this record feels less composed than discovered, as if each passage emerges organically from silence. There is plenty of fragile beauty in the stillness and looming sense of loss, so this is the sort of record that has a profound effect despite its knowing restraint.

'Trying Times' is a record about being in love whilst battling the limits of the self against a backdrop of global uncertainty. James Blake explores the tension between intimacy and isolation, the pressure to curate and perform even as everything, inside and out, feels fragile and precarious. Themes of reflection, both literally and metaphorically, run through the record’s visual presentation, as Blake holds a mirror to the contradictions of modern connection - how we see ourselves, how we’re seen by others, and what gets lost in between. It’s about the disorienting loop of joy and dread: feeling safe in love, yet knowing the bubble could burst at any moment; struggling to stay present while global anxiety and private doubt pull you in different directions. A meditation on love, identity, and fragility in an age where the world feels balanced on a knife edge

13 Track Album is James' seventh studio album and first fully independent release Album features British rapper Dave, and singer-songwriter Monica Martin Marketing plan will support long term growth, audience building and connecting with super fans Strong Content Plan including Single / Focus Track Performance Videos Alternative album versions TBC inducing deluxe, piano version and more

The second vinyl release on Platz fur Tanz continues the narrative of techno's past and future. Experienced artists reinterpret the shadowy vibe of dancefloors around the world, giving it new form and depth.
The record opens with a track by Swedish techno futurist Lakej, featuring his signature sound of machinery on a working factory floor. The music immediately transports you into the industrial atmosphere of a rave.
This time, the Italian-born, Berlin-based artist VSK takes us on a journey through the emotional waves of deep techno. A slightly jazzy groove makes this track perfect for peak time dancefloors.
Latvian producer Ksenia Kamikaza stays true to her style, transporting us into a world of visualized melodies and rhythms. The bassline sets the groove, while the unhurried rhythm allows you to fully surrender to the dance.
Liza Aikin brings an uncompromising Berlin vibrations to the release, reminding us how a true rave should sound. Her style is not heavy but persistent. Liza never stops experimenting, and this track will be a highlight of any DJ set.
Another Latvian electronic talent closes the release. Igors Vorobjovs blends the best of electro and techno in his track. Nervous rhythms and loud sounds stir the emotions, while the raw, untamed resonance will leave no true connoisseur of feral techno indifferent.

A cocktail of rebellious queer vocal fragments, deceptive percussive granules and swaying hammered vibrations, upsammy and Valentina Magaletti's first collaboration trembles with suspense. The seeds of 'Seismo' were sown following a commission from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum to soundtrack an exhibition of work from the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam and the duo didn't want to approach their collaboration flippantly. So, wandering the museum's maze of rooms, they recorded various improvised percussive sounds with their arsenal of microphones, using the space to inform various rhythms and textures that were sculpted later into electroacoustic vignettes. This was just the starting point, though; as Magaletti and upsammy began performing together, the project evolved and 'Seismo' began to take shape. The duo had struck on a salient aesthetic concept, using mostly digital and acoustic mallet instruments to blur the boundary between their roles and create friction between the synthetic and the authentic. And the finished record is a phantasmagoric push-and-pull between its various conflicting elements: harmony and dissonance, randomness and predictability, openness and constraint. 'Seismo' isn't the first time that upsammy has studied her environment in search of revelation. On her acclaimed second album, 2024's 'Germ in a Population of Buildings', the Amsterdam-based DJ, producer and multidisciplinary artist erected her complex, unorthodox rhythms and eerie melodies around a modernist frame of field recordings collected in various cityscapes, countering heavyweight basslines with subtle, microscopic sounds. London-based Italian vanguard Magaletti, meanwhile, has applied her unique logic to innumerable projects at this point, working with everyone from batida icon Nídia and hardcore-dub outfit Moin to French writer Fanny Chiarello and British bass scientist Shackleton. For years she's approached the drums with criticism, attempting to challenge any preconceptions, something that's most visible on 2020's 'A Queer Anthology of Drums'. And both artists' thoughtful perspectives are welded together seamlessly on 'Seismo', a dizzying suite of eight eccentric statements that's fragile but never insecure, gauzy but not indistinct. An unnerving sense of space characterizes 'It Comes to an End' as Magaletti's in situ improvisations herald for upsammy's microscopic glitches and chiming pitch-bent melodies. It's almost unbalancing to witness the track's impossible dimensionality, the interplay between reverberant marimba hits and bone-dry synths, or percussion that's been recorded and processed in consciously different settings. A new architecture emerges in the sound itself that the two artists scan and explore meticulously, testing its boundaries with undulating hybridized rhythms on the invigorating 'Superimposed' and offsetting the powdery drums with liquified smacks and alien voices. The duo's vibrations are knotted with piano flourishes on 'Hyperlocalize', balanced with artificial clanks and clangs that disappear into the track's sonorous atmosphere, replaced by whispers and half-hallucinated insectoid chirps. 'Seismo' is an album that feeds off the energy generated by its juxtapositions: the tension and anticipation that's melted by rapid, hyperactive movement and the finely drawn rhythms disrupted by a layer of indistinct, barely perceptible microsounds. It's a collaboration that sounds like two minds challenging each other but not wrestling, each peering from their own distinct vantage point and imagining a third landscape shaped by optimistic, queer vibrations.

Nicaraguan-American artist Dagmar Zuniga makes music that feels both intimate and expansive: songs drift like disrupted signals, carried by harmony, tape hiss, and a strong sense of touch. Her debut solo album in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music — written and recorded in New York, Norway, and Athens, Georgia over a period of five years on her longtime companion, the Tascam 424 — was uploaded to Bandcamp and YouTube in January 2025, quickly garnering over two hundred thousand views and the attention of artists such as Mount Eerie, who invited her to tour with them that summer. This year, what was once a jewel of tapped-in algorithms and message boards will meet the world at large, with in filth arriving digitally on March 4, and physically on April 10, via AD 93.

in filth is an atmospheric, devotional collage where one voice multiplies into a chorus of selves, sometimes delicate, sometimes severe; an effect created by Zuniga’s masterful layering of texture and complex harmonies. Synths glitter out like spears of sunlight from beneath clouds of moody, time-distorted guitars, and songs spin about themselves like tightly-wound music boxes, making use of a kind of hypnotic repetition, before melting apart into their components or slipping into the following track.

Zuniga began recording to tape as a teenager, drawn to the physicality of the medium — how a tape recording is fragile, mutable, and alive. Though her ethereal sound may draw easy comparisons to other female pioneers of psychedelic folk, she is influenced just as much by the darker sounds of Syd Barrett and The Fall. Like Barrett, Zuniga is a painter, and she is interested not only in recording music but in creating a full, self-contained artistic universe: she creates her own artwork, merchandise, music videos, and bootleg tapes of new and unfinished music that she exclusively sells at live shows (“If something is not material, it does not exist,” she insists). Her world has not gone unvisited, garnering her a monthly show on NTS Radio ‘World of Pain’, as well as a forthcoming appearance at Rewire Festival in April 2026.

Though Zuniga’s work explores themes of solitude and suffering, the suffering in her songs is not borrowed or displayed; it is held, then opened outward through empathy — an exacting practice of attention that insists on shared ground. Solitude, in her work, is not withdrawal but a starting point for connection. Likewise, over time, her recording process has become increasingly communal, with in filth featuring musicians Hayes Hoey, Austyn Wohlers (Tomato Flower), and Zach Phillips (Fievel Is Glauque). Newer recordings widen the circle even more. For Zuniga, collaboration is a way to “find a place between worlds,” echoing Badiou’s idea of love as a vision refracted through the prism of difference. Meaning emerges there — in the space between voices, between artist and listener. “I hope my music helps people work through difficult experiences,” she says. “The same way it helps me.”

About Alec Pace’s “Respiro 22:16”
Breath as rhythm. Breath as memory. Respiro 22:16, the debut album by Alec Pace, is a world suspended between intimacy and impact — where personal confessions are carried by low-end frequencies and fragile melodies are shaped into physical space.
Written, produced and mixed between London and Turin, this record reveals Alec Pace not only as a producer but as a storyteller through sound. Layer by layer, his voice, guitars, piano, synthesizers, drum machines, samplers, and field recordings converge to form a sonic diary — one that whispers, cracks, shimmers and erupts.
The album moves fluidly between dream pop, modern UK bass, breaks, jungle, and club music, yet its essence lies in emotion: love, memory, anticipation, release. Each track is a breath, an exhale, a fragment of something lived.
“The30th” opens with nostalgic warmth, darkness and breaks; “For You (Hello)” captures the tender rush of a love song over a drum & bass heartbeat; “Venus Winds” floats in a balance of techno pulse and harmonic light. “Angular Invariance” reshapes the floor beneath your feet, while “Respiro” pauses to listen inward — piano and air, fragile and close. “Anticipation” closes it all with a forward surge: emotional, propulsive, unresolved.
Respiro 22:16 is not just a collection of tracks, but a portrait of an artist learning to breathe out loud.

Alec Pace said:
“This album is about putting myself out there — letting every sound, chord and rhythm breathe,” says Pace. “Respiro is both a personal archive and a release.”

“Respiro 22:16” is available across all platforms on Friday 6th March 2026.

Malta’s Human Safari returns to R&S Records, building on the momentum of his 2023 debut ‘Sax Paradiso’, with another EP of fast, physical club music on ‘Children Of The Sea’.

Propulsive opener ‘Children Of The Sea’, balances tensile strings and frenzied percussion fused around a high-tempo techno framework. ‘Jazz Affair’ follows suit but shifts the mood inward, pairing feverish, hypnotic drum programming with expressive instrumentation - layering drifting piano chords, fragile pads and a winding bassline that lends the track a kinetic pull.

‘Turbulence At The Orchestra’ draws from the raw spirit of ’90s warehouse techno, weaving in the sounds of sensationalist news reports on illegal raves of the time and overall diving into darker territory, led by a foreboding, spiralling 303 line and punctuated with dramatic horn flares.. Closing track ‘Lido’ locks into another deep, rolling groove, with pulsing low-end, reverberant horns and skittering, Latin and jazz-tinged rhythmic details threading through the mix.

‘Children Of The Sea’ by Human Safari is available on R&S Records from 13th March 2026.

¡NO PASARAN! is the extension to Extrawelt's DYSTORTION, from brooding tension to playful relief, the album took listeners on a six-year-crafted exploration. Their next EP picks up where this epic chapter left off and is clearly related. It's a hypnotic dive into shadow and dream, darkness and melancholy with subtle flashes of light.
The title track of the EP, already known from the album (D1 - Extrawelt - ¡No Pasaran!) carries a commanding presence, pulses with a rolling, insistent bassline that anchors shifting rhythmic currents and evolving sonic layers. Between tension and release, shadows and melody, it's a track that moves like a living entity.
Arctic Dead Run hits like a surge of raw energy. Acid lines roll relentlessly, building tension that feels alive. Then a melody sneaks in - soft, almost fragile - cutting through the intensity, until hi-hats erupt and the groove snaps into full focus. Maximal yet controlled, every element finds its place.
Clipping Me Softly dissolves the pressure with a dark, playful groove. Precise rhythms meet spacious pads, opening into a dreamlike state where night slowly gives way to warmth and light.
A focused and uncompromising continuation of Extrawelt's sonic language: Dense grooves, acid pressure, and dreamlike relief collide in a release built for deep listening and late-night floors.

Krope is a six-part conceptual album by Belarusian sound artist and producer Anton Anishchanka. Rooted in archival folk songs recorded between the 1960s and 2000s, it transforms fragile voices of the past into living, cinematic sound worlds. Created in collaboration with ethnographer Iryna Vasilyeva, the album weaves Belarusian traditional music with field recordings, acoustic instruments, and analog synthesizers — an immersive journey where memory, landscape, and resilience converge.

Flowing as one continuous suite, Krope unfolds like a film: memory re-emerges, fragile yet persistent, shaping an emotional narrative of displacement, loss, endurance, and hope. The archival voices at its core — songs of love, exile, and mourning — resonate across decades, echoing the urgent realities of today. The album flows as a single, immersive sonic odyssey. From the tender rejection in Krope (Dill) to the grief carved in Dubrovuška (Oak Grove), it traces an arc of human experience that is both deeply personal and universally shared. By reimagining traditional music through contemporary sound art, Anishchanka preserves endangered cultural heritage while revealing its timeless relevance.

Credits:
Produced by Anton Anishchanka
Engineering by Tenzor
Mastered by Alex at Quitfish Mastering
Lacquer cut by Tim Xavier at Manmade Mastering
Cover Art by Sasha Zeliankevich
Graphic Design by Ihar Yukhnevich
Creative Direction by Nadzeya Burmistrava

Archival materials courtesy of the Institute of Art History, Ethnography and Folklore named after K. Krapiva, National Academy of Sciences of Belarus.

Special thanks to Iryna Vasilyeva for her assistance with archival selections and ethnographic material.

Shatkavalka 2025

2026 Repress

Gaudi’s Jazz Gone Dub is a masterclass in genre fusion, seamlessly blending the improvisational essence of jazz with the heavy atmospheric grooves of dub. Known for his eclectic approach to music production, Gaudi pushes the boundaries yet again, creating a sonic landscape that feels both nostalgic and refreshingly innovative.

Four years in the making, from the opening track it’s clear that Jazz Gone Dub is more than just a mashup of styles—it's a thoughtful exploration of the intersections between two rich musical traditions.

Gaudi’s multi-instrumental talents are on full display, and the presence of reggae royalty is palpable, courtesy of rootsy melodies from David Hinds (Steel Pulse), Jah Wobble’s iconic bass grooves, Ernest Ranglin’s intricate guitar lines and Sly & Robbie’s rhythmic genius. Add Sardinia’s Train to Roots band, Manu Chao collaborator Roy Paci, veteran guitarist Marcus Upbeat, Mr Woodnote and Tim Hutton’s brass work, Gavin Tate-Lovery’s sultry sax and flute, Horseman’s percussive flair plus Colin Edwin and Vlastur’s serious basslines, and the
result is a rhythmic foundation that’s both solid and fluid, allowing the jazz elements to float freely above the dub undercurrents.

Despite this star-studded line-up, Gaudi remains the glue that holds this gem together: his production is meticulous yet organic, allowing each track to breathe and evolve naturally. The use of space, delays and reverb—a hallmark of dub music—is expertly handled, giving the album a dreamy, immersive quality. Tracks like Susceptible and Alabaster Moon showcase Gaudi’s ability to create mood and atmosphere without sacrificing melodic and rhythmic complexity.

In Jazz Gone Dub Gaudi has crafted an album that feels both timeless and forward-thinking, a celebration of musical synergy where the free-spirit of jazz meets the deep resonance of dub. Whether you’re a fan of either genre or simply appreciate masterful musicianship and innovative production, this album is a must-listen.

Essential compilation of long lost hard to find Detroit classics! Now & Then features five 90s original tracks and 2 brand new remixes from Detroit In Effect and Terrace. Top that up with 2 unreleased 90's tracks from John and we have the perfect compilation for the true heads, TIP!

2026 Repress

On Left At Sunset, Tornado Wallace taps into those fragile, glowing moments after a long night in the club, when the lights come up just enough, the bass softens, and the first hint of morning slips through the windows. Time feels suspended.
The lead track Asahi Ga Yondeiru (“the morning sun is calling”) captures that feeling perfectly. Built around Courtney Bailey’s gentle vocal, it drifts somewhere between late-night house and early morning reflection. It is not about the peak. It is about what comes after it. That quiet euphoria when you realize the night gave you something you will carry back into the real world. The rest of the EP stays in that same emotional zone: warm, slightly melancholic, but full of light. These are tracks for the very last dance, when the floor is half-empty, hearts are wide open, and every sound feels a little more meaningful. Not an ending, really. Just the beginning of whatever comes next.

Hekt's debut album Forever is released 1st May 2026 on Numbers, with the first single "Someday" featuring Valeria Litvakov out now.

Made with his friends Henriette Motzfeldt & Catharina Stoltenberg (solo and together as Smerz), Copenhagen-based composer/producer Fine Glindvad (who records as Fine), and Valeria Litvakov, Forever is built around juxtaposition: pop and bass brushing shoulders with dopamine fueled EDM. The record is a funhouse of mirrors where polystyrene arpeggios skitter underneath uplifting chords.

As Hekt describes the record: "Forever is desire and digital synthesis, car rides and lingering perfume. It’s missing someone who was never really there, holding on to something you didn’t want in the first place. The songs you hear when you’re falling in love on the dancefloor, and the songs you hear when you open your eyes and realize it’s just you alone with the DJ, the last one to leave. Songs to make out and break up to. A party so good you get depressed it can’t last forever."

Forever is a continuation of Hekt's work exploring the emotional core of pop music. "Someday" is the soundtrack to a hundred imagined futures with strangers in the club, as pristine arps and heartswelling chords skitter under Valeria Litvakov's ruminations, both lovestruck and terrified. Smerz add a level of fantastic to the slanted otherworldly pop of "Up in the Air, So" and "Forever." On both tracks, the melodies are squishy and impressionistic, the sound of all those memories we make in dance floors, taxis home, and in the blurry morning sunshine as we adjust to reality.

And while guest vocalists abound on Forever, Hekt also takes a turn at the mic himself. On "Without You" he shakes up a perfectly mixed cocktail of melancholy and beauty. And on "Promise" his voice is turned into another melodic accent against the fragile IDM sound design. Elsewhere he turns up the aggro. Dueting with Catharina Stoltenberg on Boys Noize's secret weapon, "Anytime Anywhere," the two trade bars across a compressed field of static and feedback while little hints of sub and wiry synths circle the edge of the stereo.

Hekt's music has always attempted to redefine what club music can and might be. This reimagining of the very basic building blocks of the dance floor is felt across Forever where he leans into the emotions of 2010s EDM. "What I loved about hardstyle and jumpstyle was the emotional intensity that kind of music can bring if you’re in the right setting. And I think that is what has stuck with me from EDM too. Emotional intensity," he explains. "It’s just been the soundtrack to some of the most fun moments in my life." On "But I Can't Really Show You," he compresses the EDM-era into 3-minutes. Vocal catharsis, dubstep womp, and soaring chords make it sound like the entirety of Tomorrowland being processed through MAX/MSP. This Skrillex-meets-Calvin Harris colossus is designed to destroy every sub woofer as it pulls on every last heart string.

And then there are the straight-up club stompers. "Baby" is UK club music reimagined with the steely lines of Danish modernism - think DJ Q going b2b with Errorsmith. It has a bassline made out of flubber with a vocal chopped beyond recognition as it bounces across chromatic synth lines. Even when he strips things down on the slinky garage-esque "Big Things," there are still unexpected twists and turns. The melody sounds like an Ibiza House compilation played in reverse, alongside drums that swing in and out of psilocybin bleeps and bloops. On other tracks like "Dream" and "You Won't Believe," the tropes of dance musics past, present, and future are dissolved in baths of synthesis and polished sound design.

Forever is a record where club music and Scandinavian EDM seamlessly mixes into avant-garde pop. Hekt has crafted singular and unclassifiable love songs alongside effortless bangers, making an ode to those eternal dance floor moments where time stops and you start hoping for something big.

Hey! Cabrera is back at Bordello. Following on from Italo Void, this time he arrives with two friends and fellow countrymen in tow: Marta Paradise, the duo of Paolo Ancona and Davide Pozzovivo. A shared passion for the analogue riches of the 1980s cements this new partnership, a passion fully captured in the bold synth‑lines and heady grooves of Go By Night. Bodies swirl in the fog of “Stasera No.” Glittering melodies float above clean beats, shifts swooping and tucking before the unmistakable vocals of Fred Ventura smoulder. The mood drops from disco to basement as “Go Ahead” takes hold. Those addictive hooks remain central, but now they’re teased by breathy samples, orchestral rinses and thick basslines.

Whistle blasts and cowbell rumbles introduce the flip. Bright and luminous, vocoder verses carry this late‑night rave straight into sunrise. Tempos fall for the close. Fragile drum patterns form a base from which machined and spoken words intertwine with bubbling 303 lines. A record that captures every moment of the night.

TSSRCT returns with a significant new chapter: its third release, entrusted to Antigone. Across three carefully sculpted pieces, the French artist explores a territory where deep resonance, fragile melody and stripped-down structures converge. More than a return, this EP stands as a timeless statement, reaffirming both Antigone's singular voice and TSSRCT's evolving sonic vision.

Originally released on Ezekiel Honig's Anticipate label in 2007, Standing on a Hummingbird is the debut album by Canadian sound artist Mark Templeton, now appearing for the first time on vinyl, newly remastered by Giuseppe Ielasi and cut by LUPO. Working at the intersection of post-glitch, electroacoustic ambient, and textural minimalism, Templeton composes through restraint and erosion, building patient and richly tactile pieces primarily from acoustic sources - fingerpicked guitar, plaintive banjo, muted accordion tones - subjected to careful processes of granulation, filtering, and environmental masking. These gestures never overwhelm the source material; instead, they wonderfully destabilize it. Melodies appear briefly, only to dissolve into dense atmospheres of field recordings: distant streets, birds, water, air. Sounds hover, vibrate, and vanish, much like the wing beating latent in the album’s title.

Tracks such as “Pattern For a Pillow” and “Amidst Things Uncontrolled” articulate this approach with particular clarity, setting languid acoustic figures against churning granular backdrops that feel at once sheltering and unstable. Elsewhere, moments of fragile clarity - fluttering guitar lines, reedy accordion tones - briefly break the surface before being absorbed back into the field.

Heard today, the record offers a clarion, almost spartan strain of textural ambient music: intricate yet unforced, shaped by human touch rather than automated excess. Its refusal of spectacle feels especially vital in a landscape saturated with maximalist digitalia - a reminder that electronic music’s most enduring gestures often occur where sound is allowed to tremble and hold itself just long enough to be felt before disappearing once again. (Alex Cobb, 2026)

On Dreams ’24 / ’25, Scottish composer Bill Wells turns his nocturnal imagination into a sequence of delicate musical miniatures. The album brings together 24 short pieces, most of them under two minutes, unfolding in just under half an hour like a quietly drifting dream diary.

The album is split into two parts. On the Dreams 2024 side, Norman Blake lends his voice to Wells’ dream-born melodies. Blake, best known as a founding member of Teenage Fanclub, recorded the songs with Wells in a single afternoon at his home, capturing their fragile immediacy in direct and unadorned performances.

For Dreams 2025, Aby Vulliamy — one of Yorkshire’s best kept musical secrets — takes over vocal duties. In mid 2025, Wells sent her a batch of demos; Vulliamy recorded them at home and sent them back to him. The result is a second chapter that feels more introspective, intimate and gently surreal.

The songs themselves are born directly from dreams. Wells wakes from the dream, records it on his mobile and later shapes it into a brief, lyrical composition. One piece, Mackenzie’s Return, was inspired by a dream in which Elvis Costello marched through the streets of a suburban town complaining that he had run out of song ideas, a detail that perfectly captures the album’s blend of humour, strangeness and quiet melancholy.

Dreams ’24 / ’25 is not a collection of fully formed pop songs, but rather a series of fleeting emotional snapshots: soft voices, simple motifs, and melodies that appear and vanish before they can fully settle. It is an album that rewards close listening, inviting the listener into a private, half-lit space somewhere between memory and imagination.

The album is accompanied by a striking cover artwork by Annabel Wright.

An incising snare marks the return of Luxus Varta to Shipwrec. Since his last appearance, Aquamarine Puzzle in 2017, the Frenchman has been honing his craft with releases on a spread of stellar imprints. Noise Figure is the culmination of that refining process, his sound and style being forged and framed within the parameters of electro. And these parameters are immediately tested. From the warbling bass and tight percussion of The Resetter, crystalline chords cascade before a shimmering string of wintery warmth. Terse beats introduce Building Peaks, wraith-like rinses offering space for playful forms to take hold. Fudgey basslines are unsettled by sci-fi synths, a touch of the otherworldly balancing this unique cut. The warm current of Lizardous penetrates the frostier funk of the EP, delicate and fragile notes thawing the cold rhythms and glacial undertones. Silver Girl contrasts autumnal shades with brittle harmonies, angles and lines curved by sheer musical craftsmanship. Shifting into electronica, the close is a complex composition that demonstrates Luxus Varta's breadth of ability. Gentle melodic ebbs are countered by echoes of the factory floor, the human touch coming to the surface with understated radiance.

Métron Records announces Mycorrhizal Music, the forthcoming album from composer and multi instrumentalist Ess Whiteley. Currently a PhD candidate in Composition at the University of California-San Diego, Whiteley’s practice spans recordings, installations, performances, and scores, a body of work as diverse as the fungal webs that inspire it.

Across seven tracks, Whiteley explores interconnected sound worlds shaped by mycelium networks, rhizomatic structures, and other unseen systems that sustain life. Rooted in experimental electronics, minimalism, ambient and IDM, the record imagines sound as ephemeral connective tissue capable of reshaping how a listener might experience time, memory, and futurity.

At the core of Whiteley’s work is an excavation of what lies beneath perception, the felt but unspoken currents of emotionality and subtle experiences that dwell in the unconscious.

Mycorrhizal Music channels these hidden threads into a speculative ecosystem of kinship and exchange, where joy, play, and spirituality interlace like branching hyphae beneath the soil. Mycorrhizal Music has been conceived as kinetic ambient music, designed to move with the listener while walking, riding trains, driving, cooking, where everyday rhythms align with shifting sonic textures, reminding them of hidden, interconnected, mycelial webs of spiritual vitality beneath the surfaces of daily activity.

Guided by a vision of speculative ecology and interspecies resonance, it thrives in contrasts: tracks like Rhizomatic Harpists and Whispered Messages in Tapestried Fields of Fluid Motion pulse with fluid momentum, while Kaleidoscopic Patterns of Emptiness Dancing drifts into fragile stillness.

With artwork by Kenta Senekt and mastering by Brandon Hocura, Mycorrhizal Music extends Métron Records’ ethos of cultivating subtle, interconnected sound worlds.

Shaped from fragile, emotionally charged piano motifs that distort, disappear and transform into dense, cinematic textures, 'CANALS' is a debut that's finely matured, the result of years of friendship and growth. Italian artist Vanja Sturno and Montréal-based Belgian-Spanish composer Pablo Geeraert (aka Sanea Ima) have worked together extensively on various projects up until now, but 'CANALS' is their first official release as a duo. Having both studied music academically, the pair were eager to work more intuitively, so applied their well-honed set of skills to sound that, instead of fitting into a conceptual box, reflected more personal experiences.

Back in 2023, Geeraert travelled to Rome to support his friend at a difficult time and, during the trip, received some bad news of his own. The complicated feelings unconsciously surged through a series of delicate Ryuichi Sakamoto-inspired piano improvisations and a new project began to coalesce. They didn't realize it at the time, but once the record was finished, Sturno and Geeraert began to understand that the entire process had been a form a joint catharsis - a release of pressure. They were able to function so effortlessly and swiftly because they had already provided the space for each other to resonate emotionally and the music flowed from that point.

So the album's title, while remaining ambiguous, suggests its formation: a sequence of eight interconnected channels that feed a creative whole. On the first segment, Sturno and Geeraert's initial recordings can be perceived most nakedly, the melancholy, Satie-like phrases floating peacefully for a moment before the tranquility is agitated by stormy distortions and swelled into thick waves of harmony. The piano provides the record with its emotional anchor, offering focus and clarity as multi-dimensional noise wells up around it before inevitably dissipating, leaving gentle, unadorned sounds once again.

And the familiar instrument is reshaped into a wheezing artificial organ on the animated 'CANALS III', punctuated by percussive, tape-warped pitch fluctuations that seem to bite into its very essence. Gauzy acoustic granulations snowball into a powerful, bass-heavy crescendo on the fourth part, setting the tenor for the album's second half. But after the crushing 'CANALS VI', possibly Sturno and Geeraert's heaviest track, a brief tremolo-heavy vignette that ripples through experimental rock and ambient music's braided history, the duo clear the air with a jazzy diversion, introducing soft woodwind blasts as a palate cleanser before an epic, widescreen finale.

It's an album that's best absorbed as a whole, a vortex of ritualistic, rhythmic repetitions that Sturno and Geeraert appropriately refer to as "spiral listening".

Take Me, I’m Yours is the first collaboration album between Alan Abrahams and Jan Jelinek. Released through the latter’s faitiche, it builds upon multi-layered vocal sketches by the former. The Paris-based artist, primarily known for his work as Portable and Bodycode, supplied Jelinek with multi-layered song sketches that the German artist subjected to a rigorous process of manipulation, excavating the ambiguities of the original material and transforming its rhythms into subtle pulses. Take Me, I’m Yours is neither a typical Abrahams record nor a classic Jelinek album—it is something third, mediating between the physicality of the voice and the abstraction of electronic sound design.

The two had crossed paths before really getting to know each other after Abrahams invited Jelinek to play at one of his Süd Electronic parties. The idea of a collaboration emerged slowly. “It started as an experiment, and over the past few years grew from a few tracks into this album,” says Abrahams. He describes recording the basic material as a “tantalizing” process, not knowing how Jelinek would transform his material, some of which was based on wordless chanting, while other tracks were working with lyrical content. However, their mutual trust allowed Jelinek to remove the harmonies, radically reduce the rhythms, and concentrate on Abrahams’ voice.

Jelinek heard something “fragile” in this voice, “moments of doubt and dark premonitions.” He points to Forever as an example. “Alan’s original song reminded me of classic vocal house, but his voice seemed to almost break,” he says. “This contradiction made the piece even bigger, because we hear a singer in the moment of an awakening.” He further accentuated such tensions through arrhythmic synth modulations and time-stretching algorithms, while also adding concrete sounds from a variety of sources. With its dedication to both transforming and amplifying the emotional qualities hidden within Abrahams’ pieces, Take Me, I’m Yours functions as a dialogue between those two singular artists.