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Compiled by Philip King
“And then came the rise of synth pop : blokes with dodgy haircuts hunched over keyboard-operated
machines stuffed with wires and do-it-yourself tone oscillators making sounds like a brood of geese
passing gas in a wind tunnel. Whoopee! This is the way the ‘70s ended : not with a blood-curdling bang
bang but with a cheap, synthesized, emasculating whimper.”
NICK KENT, NME.

All The Young Droids: Junkshop Synth Pop 1978-1985 is a new compilation that charts the
underbelly of the epoch-defining sound of the synthesiser in 80s popular music. Compiled by Philip
King (previously seen compiling All The Young Droogs, Glitterbest and Boobs - The Junkshop
Glam Discotheque), the music here connects the dots between DIY synth enthusiasts grappling with
new, cheap synthesisers at the tail-end of punk and wannabe, jobbing songwriters enthral to the new
music pioneered by Gary Numan, Depeche Mode and Daniel Miller’s Mute Records. Featuring rare
tracks of auto-didactic progressive pop music, proto-techno punk, shoot-for-the-stars-land-in-the-gutter
chart flops and heralded, underground synth classics, School Daze paints a picture of beautiful failure.
Complete with extensive sleeve notes written by King and never before seen imagery, all 24 tracks
were remastered by RPM in-house engineer Simon Murphy, many from vinyl copies due to lost master
tapes. The story told on All The Young Droids is one of the dawning opportunity presented by both the
emergence to the market of cheaper analog synthesisers and the distribution networks plus indie labels
that exploded with the advent of punk music in 1976. While the music that sprouted out all over the
globe in the wake of these factors was decried as fake, plastic, a refutation of punk’s guitar-led
revolution, it’s telling that much of the music on All The Young Droids.. was created in bedrooms,
ramshackle studios and home-made set ups with often borrowed equipment. In the era of record labels
jumping to capitalise on the success of The Sex Pistols, The Clash (both on major labels, of course)
these artists struggled to stand out from a new gold-rush with next to no budget or PR team. With radio
and labels desperate for the new Yazoo, what resulted was a testament to necessity being the mother
of invention.

At the time, the synthesiser was the music of the future, a shiny new machine that could paint like an
orchestra with a single finger and a 4-track. In the hands of Manchester avant-pranksters Gerry & The
Holograms it’s a pulsing, sardonic weapon.. the only instrument on the Messthetics classic lampooning
of New Wave fashion. In Hamburg, a 16 year old Andreas Dorau used it to write and record (with his
female classmates on vocals) a global smash in Fred Vom Jupiter (later licensed to Mute Records).
The hard-to-find English version (Fred From Jupiter, natch) is included here. Many artists with alreadystoried careers caught the bug and recorded synthesiser-fuelled peons to space, computers, the future
and, of course, love-interests. Harry Kakoulli, late of Squeeze, recorded a solo album in 1979 that
included the incredible power-synth-pop smash-that-never-smashed I’m On A Rocket. Similarly, Ian
North of Neo and American Power Pop stalwarts Milk ’n’ Cookies bought a Korg MS20 and used a
tape machine to record We’re Not Lonely, an absolute lost-classic of minimal synth pop. We’re Not
Lonely also features on the Junkshop Synth Pop sampler 7” twinned with John Howard unreleased
track You Will See, released April 12th 2025.

There are plenty of compilation debuts in evidence. Sole Sister were a mysterious trio who were
featured on the Scaling Triangles compilation of female-fronted, queer-adjacent post-punk /
underground music that also featured The Petticoats. Selwin Image were from San Francisco and
featured members of the recently defunct power pop/punk group The Pushups. Their stupidly catchy
The Unknown fizzes with New Wave energy - think XTC to Sparks but remains unreleased until now.
Dream Unit’s A Drop In The Ocean is an early synth wave cut, positively teaming with Joy Division
instrumentation, previously only released on a long-forgotten and super rare, self-released EP.
Incandescent Luminaire’s Famous Names belies an archetypal struggle of a small-town trying to
make it in a cruel industry but is a thrilling New Romantic-Synth Wave cross over with a OMD
gloominess that’s a joy to hear. Feminist Minimal Wave track I Am A Time Bomb by performance artist
Peta Lilly and Michael Chance is a revelation destined for new found cult status. It was released on 7”
and lost until now.

The flipside to the subterranean, never-made-it synth pop mentioned above are the ambitious, even
fruity attempts at success that have a perennial elegance to their confidence. New Jersey-ite Billy
London (real name Ed Barth) tried to cash in on the synth boom with Woman, released by a major
label, a lurching new wave track built on the Louie Louie rhythm and a wonderfully camp Lou Reedstyle sleazy vocal before exploding in the synthesised chorus. The song bombed but with a chorus like
this, you have to wonder why? Ex-Glitter Band member John Springate’s My Life is truly epic, with
doomed chord progressions and massive sounding drums turning into at least 3 different songs in the
course of the track. Before you wonder what’s going on the song resolves with a glorious return to the
main refrain.

The dry-ice-dressed dance floor is well catered for too. Design’s Premonition and Vision’s Lucifer’s
Friend are stone-cold minimal synth bangers, well loved but given a new lease of life here. The
Warlord’s The Ultimate Warlord was released in 1978, a homespun proto Hi NRG banger that was
later re-recorded by The Immortals in Canada who had a club hit with it. One-man- band Disco
Volante’s No Motion was re-issued by Synth wave label Medical in 2012 but makes its first vinyl
compilation appearance here. Close your eyes and you can imagine what Lawrence of Felt would have
sounded like with some cheap Korgs a little earlier in his career. Gibraltar-based trio The Microbes
imagined a computer programming people to dance - how prescient - and ended up with a propulsive,
robo-funk track with splendid rubbery bass playing over a tectonic drum machine. Previously picked up
by Belgian label Stroom TV, Dee Jay Bert & Eagle’s heavily Euro-accented I Am Your Master
demands the listener to “come to paradise!” In a frankly terrifying manner.
All The Young Droids is the first compilation to peel away from the narrative that dour, Minimal Synth
and Cold Wave were the only musical children of the first rush of synth pop. Philip King and School
Daze Records describe a much more complicated world: along with the austere, Brutalist children of
Daniel Miller (who produced Alan Burnham’s Bowie-Low-influenced Science Fiction here) was a
plethora of desperate cash-ins, accidental mainstream hits, ambitious pop dramas and major label
punts that went nowhere. Crucially, the compilation blurs the line between junk and treasure. What if the
two things are interchangeable. What if it’s all science fiction?

Demon Music Group are delighted to confirm the signing of ‘Night Mirror’ – the fourth solo album from electronic music legend, Claudia Brücken. • Written and recorded in London between 2023-2025 with longtime collaborator John Williams, ‘Night Mirror’ is a stunning collection of 10 brand new songs, suffused with optimism, loosely bound by themes of reflection and rebirth. •

Having first come to notice as the lead singer of Düsseldorf electronic music pioneers Propaganda, one of the first signings to the celebrated ZTT Records (Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Art Of Noise, 808 State), Claudia’s striking image and distinctive vocals made her one the most influential and inspiring female musicians of her generation. Propaganda enjoyed chart success with hit singles like ‘Dr Mabuse’ and ‘Duel’ and their 1985 album ‘A Secret Wish’ is frequently cited as one of the landmark electronic pop albums of all time. • In subsequent years, along with collaborations with the likes of Wolfgang Flür (Kraftwerk), Martin Gore (Depeche Mode), ACT, Andrew Poppy, Andy Bell (Erasure), and Peter Hook (New Order). Claudia was most recently in the limelight fronting the reimagined xPropaganda whose 2022 album ‘The Heart Is Strange’ garnered ecstatic reviews and reached No. 11 in the UK album chart. •

On ‘Night Mirror’ Claudia is reunited with musical partner John Williams, whose work as a producer, writer, engineer, and record label head has seen him work with such luminaries as The Housemartins, Alison Moyet, Blancmange, Simple Minds and The Proclaimers. Contributing to the album are an accomplished series of musicians, whose credits include The Lighthouse Family, Cathy Dennis, Orlando Weeks (The Maccabees), and Kaiser Chiefs. • This LP release is presented on Dark Cherry vinyl. • This is a priority release for Demon, and we will be supporting with full retail, press, radio and online campaigns.

Metallic Life Review is the sound of two people who have collected field recordings of metal objects from around the world for years of their lives together, collaging their magpie hoard into rhythmic patterns, sometimes writing melodies and basslines, but sometimes just letting sound be sound. Patient gathering yields to ADHD editing. Painstakingly made but blink and you"ll miss it. Is it music or is it noise? It is without a doubt exceptionally beautiful music wrought from metal detritus. Metallic Life Review features Susan Alcorn"s pedal steel, Owen Gardner"s glockenspiel, Thor Harris" drumming, Jason Willett"s (Half Japanese) guitar, and Jeff Carey"s aluminum cans, which were melted, molded into custom aluminum rods, and then bowed and struck. The most dramatic difference from any previous Matmos album is that side two was recorded "live in the studio", ala Throbbing Gristle"s Heathen Earth. For the first time on recording, Matmos capture the evolving, shifting, slithering dynamic that happens when they play live and let patterns emerge out of chaos and then collapse and then re-form. Their playful blend of compositional brilliance and improvisational playfulness meld perfectly, truly capturing ecstatic moments in a way that can only happen live.

[o] B8 Back In The Highlife; Producer, Engineer – Paul Q. Kolderie, Sean Slade; Written-By [Uncredited] – Steve Winwood, Will Jennings

Iori Wakasa, one of the leading lights of the Tokyo club scene is set to release his second 12” from his own label, “BOTANICA” which he established to express his own primal sensibilities.

The Concept of the Label:
Tokyo-based DJ/producer, Iori Wakasa launched BOTANICA to assert that his label’s activities in itself is art and a palette for his creative, self-expression. It is also based on 2 main concepts: To integrate the sensibilities of both "nature" and “artificial and human activities" and to “contribute music that presents a scenery from the listener's point of view”.

For Iori, his label is an interface of some sort and is also a symbol of his own personal musical expectations.

Iori produced these 2 new tracks during the recent pandemic when the world was under severe restrictions. While taking into account and focusing on both 'his current outlook' and returning to “the roots of his own production aesthetic', he strived to produce something that would substitute it and as a result, created these two new tracks and the artwork that are presented in the label's second release, 'The Party Is Here EP’.

In this EP, he also attempts to express the sentiment that 'the experience that music provides to people is invaluably infinite' and that 'if you truly want to go out and party, it will happen, then and there!’.

About the tracks:
For the track, ’Bedroom Disco’, Iori tries to express his memories of 'a virtual night of partying’ that he experienced during Covid and created this track while being ‘in a state of wanting to break free from oppression’ and reminiscing about a party in a bedroom at night.

He also wanted to express the idea that no matter what situation or environment you are in, you can go to anywhere you want if you really want to and with that sentiment, he wanted to express a scenerio that transcends it and at the same time, he also wanted to convey his feelings of nostalgia for the past, rebellion against the environment and his feelings of desire.

For this track, Iori did not use any sampled voices or field recordings and created it by layering pure sonic imagery repeatedly folded and desolved which triggered the creation of new developments while imagining the thought that “a party actually begins when you step out” and the swaying of emotions that take place from it.

’Tropica' is a track that Iori produced by heavily mixing a utopian feel that people have inside of them with his own sensuality and is designed to ‘guide you to a tropical seaside', regardless of what the listener may have experienced in the past.
Unlike 'Bedroom Disco', this track uses a variety of samples and envisages "many elements intertwining with each other, working together to create this sound structure”. And it also expresses that equal opportunity exists for anyone who wants to visit an imaginary tropical land as well as the hope that even a brief break of the mind can be created by yourself and those close to you, if one pursues it.

About the artwork:
The cover of this new EP, the concept text 'Is your window open?', and the label's logo was designed by illustrator, HILOSHI SHINOZAKI who also worked on the first release, BOTANICA EP. For over 10 years, he has been a regular visitor of Hawaii, where he tries to cultivate his "true way of life” in his art.

And, artwork for the cover and label design of the EP is complemented by the label design and art direction of the record by hiro, a graphic designer who has been his partner and best friend since the first Botanica EP.
hiro expresses Bedroom Disco track's shifting compositional changes and its complex series of sound waves by creating an intricately multi-layered design that is a perfect representation of the way he sees it.
Also initially inspired by the fluctuations of waves, islands, sun, rays, sky and time, the artwork of Tropica also found inspiration from a drawing that made by Iori’s daughter who drew a picture of a scenery when she listened to the track. So through this design, one of the label’s concept of “the label’s activities is in itself art” was realised via the surprising contribution coming from his own family.

Over the decades, the image of Kompakt as a pirate ship has taken root in our minds, braving the dangers of the seven seas of the music market. Sometimes it glides with a tailwind through calm waters, sometimes it has to survive violent storms. When we set sail in 1993, we never would have dreamt that our journey would still be going on after more than three decades and with 500 releases to date.

In our fast-paced business, the 500 mark is rarely reached, so we want to celebrate it with a lavish 5LP box set. In a democratic process, we have selected 50 pearls from the thousands of tracks released over the last 33 1/3 years and pressed them onto 5 brightly coloured vinyls. Alongside many Kompakt evergreens, there are also some real rarities from the early ‘Kompakt Sound of Cologne’, which have been lovingly remastered here to shine in new splendour.

The box also contains a 144-page book that tells the story of Kompakt from 1993 to today with detailed texts and images. In addition to the manifold musical and graphic achievements of Kompakt, the multidisciplinary links to the visual arts are also highlighted here.

The Bonus Picture Disc opens with the symbolic tolling of 500 bass drums, followed by 50 locked grooves from the 5 Kompakt founders, looping into infinity at 133 1/3 BPM, and the ‘33 1/3 Years Loop Opera’ – in which the loops are combined into one track that, in its reduced essence, is more than the sum of its individual parts. The magic of groovy loop minimalism and the ‘art of omission’ are once again brought to the proverbial point.

On 23 May 2025, the big KOMPAKT 500 art exhibition will open at the venerable Kölnischer Kunstverein to coincide with the release. The entire visual cosmos of Kompakt will be shown here in an unprecedented way on three floors, with the participation of many renowned artists. Of course, there will also be dancing and partying at the vernissage party, with DJ sets and live shows by the Kompakt Allstars.

The last one turns off the bass drum.


Im Laufe der Jahrzehnte hat sich in unseren Köpfen das Bild von Kompakt als Piratenschiff festgesetzt, das den Gefahren der sieben Weltmeere des Musikmarktes trotzt. Mal gleitet es mit Rückenwind durch ruhige Gewässer, mal muss es heftige Stürme überstehen. Als wir 1993 die Segel setzten, hätten wir uns nicht träumen lassen, dass unsere Reise nach über drei Jahrzehnten und mittlerweile 500 Veröffentlichungen immer noch andauert.

Die 500 ist in unserem schnelllebigen Geschäft eine selten erreichte Katalognummer und soll daher mit einer üppigen 5LP-Box gebührend gefeiert werden. In einem demokratischen Prozess haben wir aus den tausenden Tracks der letzten 33 1/3 Jahre 50 Perlen ausgewählt und auf 5 knallbunte Vinyls gepresst. Neben vielen Kompakt-Evergreens finden sich auch einige echte Raritäten des frühen “Kompakt Sound of Cologne”, die hier liebevoll remastered in neuem Glanz erstrahlen.

Die Box enthält außerdem ein 144-seitiges Buch, das mit ausführlichen Texten und Bildern die Kompakt-Geschichte von 1993 bis heute erzählt. Neben den mannigfaltigen musikalischen und grafischen Errungenschaften von Kompakt werden hier auch die multidisziplinären Vernetzungen zur bildenden Kunst beleuchtet.

Die Bonus Picture Disc wird mit einem symbolischen Glockenschlag von 500 Bassdrums eröffnet, gefolgt von 50 Endlosrillen der 5 Kompakt-Gründer, die sich bei 133 1/3 BPM in die Unendlichkeit schleifen sowie der “33 1/3 Years Loop Opera”, in der die Loops zu einem Track zusammengefügt werden, der in seiner reduzierten Essenz mehr ist als die Summe seiner Einzelteile. Die Magie des groovenden Loop-Minimalismus und die “Kunst des Weglassens” werden einmal mehr auf den sprichwörtlichen Punkt gebracht.

Am 23. Mai 2025 eröffnet parallel zum Release die große KOMPAKT 500 Kunstausstellung im ehrwürdigen Kölnischen Kunstverein. Der gesamte visuelle Kosmos von Kompakt wird hier unter Beteiligung vieler namhafter Künstler*Innen in nie gesehener Form auf drei Etagen gezeigt. Selbstverständlich darf zur Vernissagenparty auch getanzt und gefeiert werden zu DJ Sets und Liveshows der Kompakt Allstars.

Der Letzte macht die Bassdrum aus.

Silver Vinyl. Metalhorse is Billy Nomates' third studio release, following 2023's critically acclaimed, CACTI, and her self-titled 2020 debut. A concept album revolving around the image of a dilapidated funfair, representing the tumultuousness of life - risk and pleasure, danger and exhilaration. The 11 new songs here explore blues, folk and pianodriven arrangements that take Billy Nomates' stark punk sound in a more pastoral direction. Metalhorse is the first Billy Nomates album to be made in a studio and with a full band, the line-up inc. bass player Mandy Clarke (KT Tunstall, The Go! Team) and drummer Liam Chapman (Rozi Plain, BMX Bandits) plus a special feature from The Stranglers frontman Hugh Cornwell on "Dark Horse Friend". Metalhorse is a balancing of extremes. Reckoning with loss, material insecurity, and trying to stay true to yourself against an increasingly unpredictable backdrop of global chaos, the scales could easily have tipped towards darkness, but the more Maries has had to weather, the more precious those smaller moments of happiness have become. Metalhorse begs the listener to find their own funfair; there will always be things that feel perilous. At the same time, you have to marvel at the lights while they're still on. Dancing with those feelings of uncertainty and joy, Metalhorse is awash with both pain and perseverance.

Silver Vinyl. Metalhorse is Billy Nomates' third studio release, following 2023's critically acclaimed, CACTI, and her self-titled 2020 debut. A concept album revolving around the image of a dilapidated funfair, representing the tumultuousness of life - risk and pleasure, danger and exhilaration. The 11 new songs here explore blues, folk and pianodriven arrangements that take Billy Nomates' stark punk sound in a more pastoral direction. Metalhorse is the first Billy Nomates album to be made in a studio and with a full band, the line-up inc. bass player Mandy Clarke (KT Tunstall, The Go! Team) and drummer Liam Chapman (Rozi Plain, BMX Bandits) plus a special feature from The Stranglers frontman Hugh Cornwell on "Dark Horse Friend". Metalhorse is a balancing of extremes. Reckoning with loss, material insecurity, and trying to stay true to yourself against an increasingly unpredictable backdrop of global chaos, the scales could easily have tipped towards darkness, but the more Maries has had to weather, the more precious those smaller moments of happiness have become. Metalhorse begs the listener to find their own funfair; there will always be things that feel perilous. At the same time, you have to marvel at the lights while they're still on. Dancing with those feelings of uncertainty and joy, Metalhorse is awash with both pain and perseverance.

Reissue of both EPs on one single vinyl: "Ruiner." on side A, "Clean." on side B. * Gatefold: cover of "Ruiner" is on the front, cover of "Clean" is on the back. Since their inception in 2010, Whores. has laid waste to both presumption and audial functioning. Beginning with 2011's Ruiner EP, Whores.brought a welcomed new vision to the often-tired "extreme music" scene. Two years later saw the release of the Clean. EP, a six-track musical display of visceral rancor and songwriting brilliance. Highly anticipated by critics and fans alike. For Whores.,the cavalcade of anticipation provides no pressure or expectation as Lembach states: "We don't just want to fill in the blanks." The only pressure here is to maintain authenticity, and to that end, Whores. are the quintessential example of genuine malice. "You have to bring a sense of realness to the music, otherwise it's fake, and it sounds fake. You have to be honest about it, and it's about getting to the really ugly stuff inside of you, and that's what we do." Classic black vinyl, pn: split cover that is the main product image here is just a mockup (original front showing the Ruiner.cover art)

Originally released on Ben Chasny's own Pavilion imprint in 2011.

"I was invited by the Incubate Festival and the city of Tilburg to participate in an artist residency where I would explore the region’s unique chapels built for the Virgin Mary. After writing the music for about six months by drawing on memories of the encounters with the chapels and using techniques inspired by Gaston Bachelard’s Poetics Of Reverie, I flew back to Tilburg to perform the music at the Incubate Festival. We recorded the evening and I released the result on my Pavilion label. Each cover was hand painted white on white in the old Pavilion style. I created a stencil and used graphite powder to make the design that is inspired by the sun imagery in Athanasius Kircher diagrams."

Roadside chapels express the identity of the inhabitants of North Brabant, a Dutch province, bordering on Belgium. Roman Catholicism has been the dominant religion in this southern part of the Netherlands since the eighth century. For about a century and a half this religion was strongly suppressed. Only when the French revolutionaries preached freedom of belief around 1800 could the people of North Brabant exercise their faith again. This was the start of a very strong emancipatory development from which a special form of the Roman Catholic faith arose that fully determined everyday life of the people here. This faith was the determining factor in life and the measure of all things. After the second Vatican Council (1962-1965) the reins of the catholic faith in Brabant were loosened as well. This was the start of a revolutionary process of secularisation. Within a decade hardly anything was left of the almighty influence of the Roman Catholic Church and this situation has lasted up to the present day.

In spite of the almightiness of the official, Vatican ruled, Roman Catholic faith, North Brabant has always and perhaps notoriously fostered an undercurrent of popular belief as well. This is a kind of belief in which elements of the official faith and age-old pre-Christian traditions are combined. Worshipping relics, holding pilgrimages and processions, the use of water from holy wells, popular art, recitations and songs, festivals, rituals, folk traditions, superstition and the like are all examples of popular devotion. These matters have strongly influenced and formed the identity of the present-day population of North Brabant. It is part of their immaterial heritage.

An obvious and still very much visible form of popular devotion are the roadside chapels. In Brabant some 400 can be found, most of which have been devoted to Mary. Chapels are small buildings in which Mary or other saints are worshipped. They can be found within villages or towns or in natural surroundings. Always at the finest spots! The beauty of the environment adds a primary religious or mystical feeling to the visitor. Local people attach great value to their chapels. In spite of the overall secularisation in society they are still at the centre of cultural and social life. Where people in North Brabant can hardly be found in the churches nowadays, this doesn’t mean at all they are no longer religious. On the contrary, religious feelings are perhaps stronger than ever, but now people have to find their own expression of them. That’s why they fall back on the age-old popular belief in which chapels play an important role. We can even witness new forms of popular belief with chapels as their focal point. An example of this is the scattering of ashes of people who have been cremated. Chapels clearly also play a role in the lives of young people. On an average five new chapels are added every year.

I have studied the popular culture and belief and the identity of the inhabitants of North Brabant for over thirty years. I have published over forty books on these subjects. In 2010 I was approached by the organisation of the Incubate Festival in the North Brabant town of Tilburg. Their request was for me to lead the American composer and guitarist Ben Chasny around a number of chapels in the province devoted to Mary. He had been invited to North Brabant to write some new compositions. Ben Chasny then chose to be inspired by these chapels and that’s how we met. I was especially curious how an American would react to something as specific and small as a roadside chapel in North Brabant, since we tend to think here of (people in) America in terms of ‘big-bigger-biggest’. Would an inhabitant of this enormous country with this prevailing culture be able to grasp and respect the identity of some 2.5 million people in North Brabant with their chapels? The answer to this question lies hidden in the compositions he made and that can be listened to on this album. Yes, Ben Chasny has been able to convert the phenomenon of a simple chapel devoted to Mary into music. The physical and the spiritual have found each other. What a beautiful world…just listen! - Paul Spapens

Award-winning singer Candice Night returns with a new solo album (and first for earMUSIC), “Sea Glass.”

Continuing a career as a multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, composer and lyricist, perhaps most famously as musical alchemist and voice of Blackmore’s Night, “Sea Glass” finds Candice at a new plateau in her life and music.

THE ALBUM
Inspired by a lifetime of challenging musical adventures as well as the magic and demands of everyday life and family, Candice has crafted an album that observes life through a prism of experiences, much like looking through a kaleidoscope of sea glass colors with their own special glow.

The album draws from rock influences on tracks such as first single‘ Angel and Jezebel’ and ‘Unsung Hero (She’ll Never Tell)’ and thematically touches on themes of loss and love (‘The Last Goodbye’) as well as the bond between parents and children and their wishes and dreams for the future (‘Promise Me’).

Inspired by Candice’s lifelong passion for collecting sea glass – finding treasure that has been transformed by time and tides – the images reflect the randomness of those discoveries and how they all assemble into a whole life’s experience.

MARKETING AND PROMOTION
•
New album from multi-instrumentalist and voice behind chart-topping Blackmore’s Night with a fanbase built over a quarter century
•
Album announcement and first single “Angel and Jezebel” January 2025
•
Album release preceded by 3 singles and videos
•
Continuous online marketing and social media campaign from album announcement through release

LA-based composer/producer/guitarist Dustin Wong returns to Hausu Mountain with Gloria, his third album on the label since 2018. Wong has established a multifaceted career over the last two decades that encompasses his solo work centered around guitar performance and live looping, roles as a guitarist in Baltimore-based bands Ponytail and Ecstatic Sunshine, and a wide catalog of collaborations with artists including Takako Minekawa, Good Willsmith, and Patrick Shiroishi. In composing his solo music, Wong has always transmuted his own life experiences into the thematic source material for emotionally resonant works rippling with fine-grain details and intricate looping architectures. With Gloria, the composer channels specific memories and pieces of his family history into a deeply personal narrative arc focused on his grandmother Gloria Violet Lee Wong, who passed away in January 2024, just shy of her 96th birthday. Using a road trip they took together down the west coast of America in 2023 as the direct inspiration for the individual scenes and flashes of imagery that form the album’s continuously unfolding structure, Wong presents Gloria as a memorial to her storied life and a celebration of the warmth and kindness that characterized their close relationship. A moment-to-moment travelogue that zooms out in its full scope to evoke a multi-generational memoir that spans decades and continents, Gloria gives Wong space to open his heart and uncover his roots — all while experimenting with new techniques in live performance and sound design that lead his music into territories that he has never before explored.

The Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam Woldemariam at the creative helm, provided the musical backbone for legends like Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, Mulatu Astatke, and Mahmoud Ahmed, including the iconic album Ere Mela Mela, shaping modern Ethiopian music as we know it today. This 1976 album (Ge’ez Year 1968) played a pivotal role in that legacy and has now resurfaced to set the record straight.

There’s a tendency to talk about the seventies as a golden age of Ethiopian music. There are good reasons for that, and just as good reasons against it. However, the notion of a golden past privileges the role of Western explorers and suggests that the pinnacle of Ethiopia’s musical culture is something only a foreigner can appreciate and unearth. It downplays the complexities of Ethiopia’s culture and history, creating an artificial divide between then and now. And it underestimates the constantly evolving sound that has followed.

The legendary musical outfit The Ibex Band, later metamorphosed into The Roha Band, has played a central role in defining the sound of many of the greatest stars on the music scene of Ethiopia from the mid-seventies onwards–but their golden output has never really waned. The story of the origins of the band that provided the musical backbone for greats such as Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, backing the solo career of group member Mahmoud Ahmed as well as backing Mulatu Astatke and many others has yet to be properly told.

Two misconceptions plague the image of Ethiopian music, one is that the music is pure because it is, by some notion, unexploited, the other is that it is all traditional. To begin with, a combination of political changes between the late sixties and the mid-nineties created an environment where only the most dedicated and skilled musicians struggled on and pursued a musical career against fierce odds. The whole Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam “Selamino” Seyoum Woldermarian at the creative helm, are arguably the origo of the vibrant scene in the mid-seventies, and the said pair are foremost responsible for not only navigating the band through troubled times, but also modernizing the 6/8 chickchicka rhythm to a contemporary form. Giovanni laid the rhythmic foundation with heavy looped basslines that reinvented traditional melodies as dance music, and with Selamino’s innovative guitar work they influenced scores of musicians from Abegaz Kibrework Shiota to Henock Temesgen. Even Giovanni’s Fender bass and Selamino’s Gibson guitar inspired younger musicians in their choice of instruments. Not only in choice of instruments but also in sound–even as the digital revolution hit Ethiopian music, a lot of popular music still took its cue from the masters from Ibex and Roha.

Ibex emerged out of the ashes of the sixties group the Soul Echos band, adding Giovanni and Selamino to their ranks and taking their cues from a slew of influences, such as Motown and The Beatles, fused with traditional music. A tighter-knit unit than most bands at the time – Ibex has remained six to seven members throughout their whole career, compared to many bands that were as large as fifteen or sixteen men strong when Ibex set out. Their playing has been viciously focused, economical yet heavy. Just a year before the recording sessions of the album in your hands, Giovanni and Selamino made a contribution to the popular musical lexicon of Ethiopia that was simply defining the popular sound: their arrangement and recording of bandmate Mahmoud Ahmed’s solo effort and real commercial breakthrough tune and eponymous album, Ere Mela Mela, from 1975.

Selamino has never limited himself to being an adroit lead guitarist, but has always been a scholar of history, and as such he has probably contributed as much to modern Ethiopian music with his guitar playing and compositions as with a deepened understanding of modern or contemporary – Zemenawi – Ethiopian music. Selamino’s contributions serve as a metaphor for those of the whole band, at one and the same time creating and defining a new, danceable and updated sound anchored in Giovanni’s bass, whilst also elevating the broader scene through their support for others on the scene and on top of that, increasing the understanding of the music.

There is an understandable desire to romanticize the musical heyday Ibex and Roha were at the forefront of, because so much of the output is sorrowfully hard to come by. Ibex creativity was nothing short of ridiculously fierce compared to many of their Western contemporaries. Based on their sheer recorded output alone they could have usurped the title “hardest working in show business” from James Brown, recording more than 250 albums or 2500 songs in the seventies and eighties. Some only surface as cassettes today, others were never given full LP release, and some are simply impossible to find today. In the light of that, it’s nothing short of a miracle that the recording Stereo Instrumental Music from 1976 (Ge’ez Year 1968) has resurfaced. Unearthed in perfect condition on a chrome cassette, this is musical history comes alive–to set the future straight. Stereo Instrumental Music was recorded in collaboration with Karl-Gustav Lundgren, a Swedish national working for the Radio Voice of the Gospel. It took two sessions at the Ras Hotel ballroom in Addis Ababa. The Ibex Band was the first band in Ethiopia to employ a four-track recorder for their recording (the first available in the country, lent by Karl-Gustav). Later the same week, Giovanni and Selamino realized that, lengthwise, the recorded material fell short of what they wished for, so they recorded four more tracks in one more session on a single-track recorder. The Ras Hotel and Ghion Hotel, where the Ibex Band held musical residencies were to Ethiopia in general and Addis Ababa in particular what Motown was to the USA and Detroit a few years earlier – a hotbed of musical creativity and showmanship.

The most astonishing thing about Ethiopian music of the last half century is how tradition and modernity are intertwined. Because of this feature, it’s kind of hard to tell when there ever was or when we are in a “golden age”. So much of music from the past has been criminally neglected, but because of the hardships in the past, it would be an oversimplification to say that said past was a golden age. Probably, the golden age is what we are approaching, because for the first time both the past and future are accessible, and the monumental contributions from before can lay a firm foundation for a thriving music scene today. The Ibex Band stands firmly in the past, present and the future. That, if anything, is golden.

The detailed history of Stereo Instrumental Music is in many ways unique. To begin with, it couldn’t have been recorded earlier (there were no four-track recorders available) and it really couldn’t have been recorded afterwards either, at least not in the years directly following, because of the toll the musical scene took from the unfavorable political climate that followed when the nascent Derg regime and rival groups tried to assert themselves, the musical equipment lent from The Voice of Gospel Radio simply disappeared from Ethiopia when the radio station folded in 1977. Karl-Gustav Lundgren,
the Swedish foreign national who assisted during the recording, worked with the Ethiopian Evangelical Church Mekane Yesus at the time, recalls how they only had about fifteen minutes to get the microphones in place for the recording as to not alert neither the management at Ras Hotel nor the authorities and most importantly, to complete the recording before the curfew came into effect at midnight. In leaping to the opportunity to use previously unavailable equipment to push their sound forward and improvising to meet the logistical challenges, the Ibex Band displayed the very avant-gardism and adaptability that explains their longevity as a band through the years. The recording of Stereo Instrumental Music is from a given time in history, but it sounds as beyond time.
Much of the energy that burst out of the scene that Stereo Instrumental Music came out of dissipated or got sidetracked during the societal changes Ethiopia went through in the 1970s and 80s. Whilst leaders might have professed to be revolutionary, the work ethic of the Ibex Band can truly be described as that. They never called it quits, but adapted, toured extensively abroad in Africa, Europe, and the Middle East, and found ways to work even in the face of the curfew that curtailed a lot of musical life. They even played major arenas in the nineteen eighties, despite said curfew and restrictions. The whole extent of their legacy has never been told, but their music speaks louder than words, so therefore… tune in to the Ibex Band’s Stereo Instrumental Music.

Christian Kleine continues to unearth long-lost transmissions with Electronic Music From The Lost World: Vol.2 - another batch of pristine artifacts from his personal DAT archive. Much like its predecessor, this release serves as both a time capsule and a reminder of Kleine’s effortless blend of melodic warmth, intricate rhythm programming, punk influences, and a deep-rooted love for the fringes of electronica.
Where Vol.1 felt like an invitation back to the late ‘90s, a time when IDM was still an evolving conversation, this second volume extends the dialogue, revealing more of the sonic experiments and fully-formed pieces that never saw the light of day. Tracks recall specific moments from Kleine’s time living in Berlin, an era of minimal comforts but maximal creativity, where all that really mattered was that the PowerPC, sampler, and synths kept running. This period of introspection, coupled with the musical freedom afforded by cheap rent and late-night school classes, shaped the deeply personal and solitary sound of these recordings.
Visually, Vol 2 shares its origins with the first volume, as Midori Hirano’s stark Berlin photography forms the foundation, and Noah M / Keep Adding pushes the imagery into a brighter, more reflective final space. Final touches remain in familiar hands, with LOOP-O on mastering and lacquer duties, bringing new life to Christian’s OG DAT recordings. 
And much like the classic City Centre Offices era that shaped this sound and Kleine’s early career, this release nods to that legacy. A special limited 7” EP with two bonus tracks, designed in tribute to CCO’s iconic DIY aesthetic, will be available on release day direct from the label’s Bandcamp. 

Drawing inspiration from a wide range of cultures and musical traditions, C"mon Tigre is a dynamic duo that developsits identity into a collective of musicians and artists from all over the world. Along the years, they have collaborated with musicians such as Colin Stetson, Seun Kuti, Arto Lindsay, Xênia França and artists Gianluigi Toccafondo, Harri Peccinotti, Danijel Zezelj and Paolo Pellegrin to name a few. TEN, which stands for Tenth Edition Newness, is an expanded edition of their iconic Self Titled debutalbum, which was initially publishedin 2015 through Africantape on a limitedvinyl pressing. It sold out quickly, was later repressedby the band and sold out again. Today, it finds its chance to be reissued with the Computer Students_äó treatment. Fans will love this remastered version, which sounds substantially better than the original. The album"s expansion features a slightly altered record cover in addition to a 12-page booklet with a number of writings and images. TEN will be offered on double blackvinyl, audiophile quality pressing 180-gram, inside a gatefold cover. The entire package is housed in a unique heat-sealed aluminum Type-2 foil bag, courtesy of Computer Students_äó.

Enigmatic producer ANiML returns to the freeform Los Angeles-based label StrataSonic to release a six-track mini album, Star Walk. The new body of work, which comes alongside a new music video for “Bruv” (directed by Spanish visual artist YZA Voku), is out now.

Picking up where ANiML left off with “Breather” and “Bruv,” Star Walk elaborates further on that woozy-yet-sophisticated psychedelia, materializing as cinematic trip-hop, cavernous dub, and other unique genre concoctions across its six tracks. “Cherry,” with its free-spirited, delay-soaked guitar riffs, depicts a colorful, post-rock-inspired soundscape. “BabyD,” in step with “Bruv,” features a mischievous marimba melody among ghostly vocal samples, a punchy drumkit, and a slackened bassline.

These scenes are brought to life thanks to YZA Voku, a groundbreaking visual artist who is at the forefront of AI-assisted filmmaking in the animation space (see his work for The Weeknd, Swedish House Mafia, Hï Ibiza, and XG). The new music video for “Bruv,” out today, unfolds in stark black, white, and red, evoking a noir-inspired aesthetic steeped in mystery and intrigue. Shadowy figures move rhythmically through dimly lit alleys and smoke-filled ballrooms, blending calculated steps with hypnotic dance sequences.

The production blended real-life recordings with digital effects like blur, negatives, masks, analog textures, and AI-driven transformations using Runway’s video-to-video tools. AI-generated sequences created with Midjourney and Runway were merged to contrast real footage with synthetic imagery. This type of work is a rejection that AI is simply used as a shortcut in art and comes at a time when musicians are beginning to embrace such tools for the visual components of their products.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Nicolás Melmann (born in Buenos Aires and now based in Barcelona) explores sound's social and poetic dimensions through transdisciplinary projects. Drawing inspiration from Erik Satie's concept of "furniture music," Melmann's compositions transform the listening experience into havens of calm and contemplation.

Música Aperta is a fusion of acoustic and electronic sounds, rich in beautiful harmonies, where carefully soft elements interplay with delicate raspiness. Made up of three parts, the music unfolds slowly, immersing the listener in time. Música Aperta resonates with echoes of Satie, the meditative minimalism of Arvo Pärt, the roughness of Phill Niblock, and the nostalgic reflections of Richard Skelton.

Another way of listening to Música Aperta is through its digital encore – an extension of the album experience that brings the concept of open music to life – "a work that remains unfinished and open to transformation." The website features a reactive audiovisual interface where images dynamically respond to the music's behavior, translating electroacoustic frequencies into real-time cinematic landscapes. The album blends instrumental and electronic textures while allowing listeners to interact with different layers through a virtual mixer, enabling them to create unique sound combinations and personal sonic experiences.

All songs written and performed by Nicolás Melmann in Château Éphémère.
Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY.
Artwork by Daniel Castrejón.

dreamcastmoe is the recording project of singer, songwriter, producer, and DJ Davon Bryant, a lifelong resident of Washington, DC. His music moves freely between moods and modes, hypnotic, romantic, traversing electronic, R&B, funk, soul, and hip-hop... Resident Advisor dubs it "soulful, cross-genre dance music." This ability to adapt and finesse, to twist in different directions while staying true and coherent in vision, can be traced to his home city and its complex cultural history. "Most Black kids in DC don't ever get to this point," he says. "This is what I am making this music for, in the DC tradition of soul and empathy and love that is rooted in this city. My music is for real people dealing with shit every day." A versatile, modern artist and collaborator, dreamcastmoe has thrived in the underground since his first uploads to Soundcloud and Bandcamp in 2017 and subsequent releases with labels like People's Potential Unlimited, Trading Places, and In Real Life Music. Bryant's laid-back personality, emotional honesty, and infectious energy shine through his work and how he talks about it, as Crack Magazine notes in their 2021 Rising feature: "a steady combination of confidence, creativity, and calmness." He grew up playing drums in church; he's worked dead-end jobs, had ups and downs, even sold off all his gear one time, but never stopped reinvesting in himself. He is quick to praise his co-producers, rattle off influences _ the visual feel of NBA 2K, the comedic timing of Bernie Mac, the savvy legacy of Duke Ellington, for starters _ and credit resourceful DC breakouts like Ankhlejohn that showed him the roadmap. His voice, a steady instrument, seemingly connects it all, capable of slow falsetto flow, swaggering talk-rap, and outright croon. His storytelling style is choppy yet fluid, like a mixtape, which is how Bryant sees Sound Is Like Water, his debut on Ghostly's International's freeform label, Spectral Sound. The two-part project culminates as a full-length LP release in November 2022. The first side, released as Part I, opens on the blurred beats of "El Dorado," which dreamcastmoe dedicates to his journey. It's a head-nodder, an off-kilter earworm co-produced by Max D (Future Times, RVNG Intl, etc.), with Bryant harmonizing hooks with synth jabs and a pitched-down presence. "Complicated" is the slow jam, delivered smoothly from a Saturday night crossroads. dreamcastmoe is contemplative and committed... gliding and locking ad-libs into skittering rhythms courtesy of co-producer Zackary Dawson _ but also willing to let something go, "acknowledging that everything in life IS NOT easy." "RU Ready" takes off from the jump as a tribute, challenge, and promise to his partner and his city ("The times you sat with me when I needed you the most / Told me the things that I needed to see / Young black man, really trying to be what I can be / And I'm really from DC). In its potent two-plus minutes, the sonics (co-produced by ZDBT) press the message, all cymbal crashes, breakbeats, and serrated synth lines. "Cloudy Weather, Wear Boots" is a blitzing dance-punk track made in collaboration with Jordan GCZ on Bryant's first trip to Amsterdam. The album's flipside opens on "Much More," the first of two synth-and-beat ballads co-produced by ZDBT. Later on "Long Songz," he claims, "I'm not writing love songs no more," prioritizing the vibe with "all my day ones." He calls it "a cry for more normal moments. Everything doesn't have to be a fantasy love story, more time spent getting to the money, growing, and making a way." He saves two of his most propulsive cuts for the finale, co-produced by Sami, co-founder of DC dance label 1432 R. As their titles suggest, "Take A Moment" and "Make Ya Mind" operate as anthems for movement, with Bryant free-flowing commands above wildly-styled percussion. Per Bryant, the latter is both "wake & bake jam" and a "dance floor bomb." His parting line: "Action / You got to show me action / Reaction." The world of dreamcastmoe straddles virtual reality and the realness of DC, images both imagined and lived-in. Bryant has a knack for unexpected melodies but what makes his music so exciting is his capacity to defy the expectations of genre and image. A fluid ingenuity and vulnerability bottled by Sound Is Like Water, and this is just the beginning.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

180g black vinyl - limited to 200 numbered copies.

"What is my heart now"is the debut solo album by Ziemowit Klimek, known so far from bands such as Immortal Onion, Hania Rani, and Magda Kuraś Quintet. It is a cycle of five improvised compositions – "What," "Is," "My," "Heart," and "Now" – unified by a unique artistic concept, with each piece created in collaboration with a different musician.

The creative process for each of the five duets began with a conversation between Ziemowit, the guest artist, and the video team. Deconstructing the title word into its fundamental elements through questions like "What does 'What' mean? What emotions and associations does this word evoke in us? How can we capture its essence in sound and image?" became the starting point for artistic exploration.

To preserve the authenticity of the material as much as possible, both sound and image were recorded live, with no cuts or post-production editing. Equally important was the choice of spaces that corresponded to the meaning of each title word. Instead of sterile studios, the recordings took place in a variety of unique locations – "Heart" was captured in Ziemowit's most personal space, his bedroom, while "Now" was recorded inside a car during a dynamic drive, where the physical forces acting on the musicians significantly influenced their decisions while playing.

The album resonates with dialogue – not only musical but also emotional and intellectual. It is a meeting of individualities who, for Ziemowit, are not only inspirations as artists but also significant people in his life."What is my heart now"is an album about defining one's identity and capturing the moment, created in an atmosphere of honesty and trust. Ultimately, the question arises: is it even possible to definitively answer the question posed in the album's title?

"What Is My Heart Now"

Ziemowit Klimek (Double bass, Bass, Piano, Moog)

feat.

Krzysztof Hadrych - Guitar

Michał Jan Ciesielski - Saxophon, Volca

Hania Rani - Piano

Mikołaj Kostka - Violin

Jacek Prościński - Drums

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

‘Moonlight Concessions’ goes back to basics, a return for Throwing Muses to their esoteric off-kilter best courtesy of Kristin’s pin-sharp sketches and their suitably abrasive musical arrangements. The album follows their acclaimed ‘Sun Racket’ from 2020, a heady set filled with tough and tender tales spiked with surreal imagery. Produced by Kristin Hersh at Steve Rizzo's Stable Sound Studio in Portsmouth, Rhode Island, ‘Moonlight Concessions’ is a collection of snippets from everyday life writ large - think Raymond Carver Short Cuts, overheard conversations, recounted happenings and telling one-liners, all sewed together to illustrate the times as they slowly mature, fully peppered with original Muses’ vim and vigour. ‘Drugstore Drastic’ is a kerbside soliloquy caught en route to a more alluring rendezvous. Built on a brisk acoustic strum with a guitar sub-melody underpinning proceedings, it’s an unfolding tale of social awareness from a blurred sub-conscious. ‘Summer Of Love’ began as a bet with a guy for a dollar that revolved around the idea that the seasons don’t change us. The album opener, it’s a haunting baroque overture, bowed and brooding. ‘Libretto’s strings offset the acoustic ambience, the hot and cold of longing at the very heart of it, a thematic driver filed with warmth in a safe haven lubricated by tequila. Written in the differing South Coast environs of The Gulf Of Mexico and Southern California, ‘Moonlight Concessions’ pulls from the star clusters that light both, generating optimism and hope in varying degrees. Hersh explains, “In New Orleans the stars look greenish-blue, as it’s below sea level and swamp-lit. But on Moonlight Beach, they glow icy white. All these songs were written in these two glowy places, which helped our sonic technique find itself.”

Tobacco City is a Chicago-based band that blends cosmic country with a mix of psychedelic rock and honky-tonk soul. Their sound captures the essence of small-town nostalgia while embracing modern-day themes, exploring heartache, longing, and the bittersweet nature of life. With their uplifting energy and authentic songwriting, Tobacco City continues to carve out a unique space in the countrytinged Americana scene. On Horses, the highly anticipated follow-up to their critically acclaimed debut, Tobacco City, USA, the band takes listeners on a nostalgic journey through the haze of youth, where time feels suspended and plans are nonexistent. The album’s lyrics conjure vivid images of small-town life—smoking schwag behind the grocery store, drinking cream from a gas station with your first love—capturing that carefree, uncertain time when the future felt distant. The music channels the spirit of ’70s country with influences from legends like Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris, bringing a timeless, uplifting energy to each track. At the same time, the lyrics intersect with modern-day themes, blending the beauty and innocence of youth with the harsh realities of life. Horses feels like a contemporary take on classic country, merging a nostalgic past with the complex world of today, all while remaining undeniably authentic and heartfelt. This follow-up to Tobacco City, USA—which received high praise from NPR and Rolling Stone— cements the band’s place at the forefront of a new wave of countrytinged Americana. “...Like the Chicago band’s namesake, a slow smoke hangs in the air, heavy with heartbreak and feather-blue eyeshadow, but puts a brave face on. Lexi Goddard sings with a far-away look over a pedal-steel cry, a melody that sways to country songs on jukeboxes of yore...” —NPR “Chicago’s Tobacco City do more with less... spacious grooves as pedal steel wafts through like a gentle breeze. Vocalist Lexi Goddard and Chris Coleslaw sounds simultaneously wistful and playful throughout...” —Rolling Stone

Mannequin Records proudly presents the debut release from Children Of The Night, a dynamic duo whose music is rooted in cinematic soundscapes. The project brings together Mexican techno producer Alejandro Barba, also known as Dellarge, and French documentary/film producer Pierre Labret, forging a distinctive creative partnership. Their collaboration masterfully combines dark, atmospheric elements with driving electronic rhythms, drawing heavily from the worlds of classic horror and psychological thrillers. The result is a collection of soundscapes that are as eerie as they are captivating, creating an immersive and haunting listening experience.



This album stands as an unconventional horror soundtrack for a film that never came to be—a tribute to the legendary Spanish filmmaker Jess Franco, known for his prolific work in the exploitation and horror genres. Born out of the quiet chaos of the pandemic, this project was originally intended to accompany a slasher film that was halted due to financial constraints. Despite the film’s cancellation, the duo pressed forward, turning the unfinished narrative into an imaginative auditory experience. The soundtrack will serve not only as a homage to Franco but also as a nod to Juan Mendez, better known by his alias Silent Servant, whose dark, minimalist electronic productions have left a deep mark on the underground music scene.

Dellarge and Labret’s creative process is shaped by an eclectic array of inspirations, pulling from both literature and cinema. They’ve cited films such as Franco’s "Paroxismus," "Gritos," and "Faceless" as vital to their sonic direction, as well as the eerie black-and-white imagery of F.W. Murnau's "Nosferatu." Additionally, the duo draws on the disturbing psychological tension of Stephen King’s "Carrie" and "Misery," and the surreal dystopian world of Stanislaw Lem's "Congreso de Futurología." The giallo horror aesthetics of Dario Argento's "Deep Red" also serve as a significant influence, merging surreal visuals with nerve-racking, visceral soundtracks—elements mirrored in Dellarge and Labret's own compositions.



The LP is not only rich with atmospheric storytelling but also boasts a range of remarkable remixes by prominent artists in the electronic music scene. Contributions from Alessandro Adriani, David Carretta, Legowelt, and Broken English Club inject new life into the original tracks, offering reinterpretations that span from industrial techno to Italo disco, further enhancing the project’s depth and versatility. Each remix complements the overarching horror theme while adding a modern, avant-garde twist to the duo’s work.



This debut album promises to be more than just a musical release—it's a vivid exploration of the horror genre through sound, creating a sensory experience that brings forgotten films, unrealized visions, and nightmarish stories to life through music. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, Dellarge and Labret invite listeners into a world where the echoes of lost films can finally be heard.

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Pink Vinyl. Enter Now Brightness feels different for Nadia. It is an album, she says, of departure and questioning, that has reminded her how songwriting can be "the most useful thing to do with pain and joy and thoughts and feelings and anger." That through music we can find great change. "I'm so much better off now that it exists,"she says. "Now feels like a new time." On this record, Reid moves ever further from her earlier folk inclinations, establishing a sound that is distinctly her own. Enter Now Brightness is a record of poise and great beauty, the sound of a cellular shift, of pain giving way to tenderness and joy. It takes its title from a passage in a book Reid was reading from a line that seemed to call out to her from the page: `Brightness entered the study.' "It was the image of opening the curtain, or turning the light on, or of standing in the wings of a theatre and waiting to go on stage. It's the idea of life beginning now."

Enter Now Brightness feels different for Nadia. It is an album, she says, of departure and questioning, that has reminded her how songwriting can be “the most useful thing to do with pain and joy and thoughts and feelings and anger.” That through music we can find great change. “I’m so much better off now that it exists,” she says. “Now feels like a new time.” On this record, Reid moves ever further from her earlier folk inclinations, establishing a sound that is distinctly her own. Enter Now Brightness is a record of poise and great beauty, the sound of a cellular shift, of pain giving way to tenderness and joy. It takes its title from a passage in a book Reid was reading from a line that seemed to call out to her from the page: ‘Brightness entered the study.’ “It was the image of opening the curtain, or turning the light on, or of standing in the wings of a theatre and waiting to go on stage. It’s the idea of life beginning now.” "Nadia embraces a full-bodied sound halfway between Haim’s sophisticated pop sparkle and Sharon Van Etten’s full-throated songcraft" - The Guardian

Written in the Winter of 2021 through email collaborations, the songs were constructed and recorded in DeeDee's bedroom and brought to life with Dom's crunchy drums, mixing, and production from his Nashville home studio.
D E A T H B A G' S music bridges fuzzed out garage rock through a post-punk lens while presenting images of cult worship, societal collapse, and the looming impermanence of existence. Within the grooves a new cult emerges

Beirut Birds (طيور بيروت) is a sonic memory capsule honoring (inter)personal stories of migration, displacement, and the cyclical turbulent circumstances in Lebanon. Transforming her multi-year project, multidisciplinary artist and composer Nour Sokhon crystallizes the performance Beirut Birds (طيور بيروت) into her long-awaited debut album. When presented and performed live, it is accompanied by juxtaposed images of the Lebanese capital’s city life and avian migration across the Mediterranean Sea, representing themes strongly woven into the music.

In her variegated artistic process, Nour has undertaken and recorded interviews with diasporas and repatriates to commemorate, share, heal, and envision. These source materials become the album’s core elements that loop, narrate, and return throughout time, with Nour responding with both instruments and her voice. Chanting in dialogue with the interviewees, crafting near-mantras, Nour further congregates these materially-rooted soundscapes by including field recordings that she gleaned during 2018–2021 in Lebanon and her subsequent move to Berlin.

Embedded within the composition are manipulated sounds from objects that symbolize migration, such as office bells, a luggage wheel, car parts, and bureaucratic paperwork. Musically, the songs are enriched by Nour’s improvisations on classical piano, electronics, synthesizers, violin, and various percussion instruments. As time is sculpted and the layers blur, words become specters, while an entropic orchestra of drums and melody rises, giving shape to an in-between space for those who have left, and stayed.

Music and artistic research by Nour Sokhon, 2018–2024. Recording, editing, and mixing by Rabih Beaini at Morphine Raum, Berlin. Mastered by Rashad Becker at Clunk.

Prepare for the new EP from Image Recordings. Starting out in late 2023 this is their third release, titled 'Kaizen.' This collection features an eclectic array of tracks, blending raw techno with booty influences, all drawing inspiration from the vibrant 90s house and techno era.

'Kaizen' showcases a distinctive sound created with drum machines and sampling hailing from the UK, delivering straight up club tracks.

This limited vinyl edition will include an additional track ‘Through My Mind’ exclusively for the physical release, while digital formats will feature only the three primary tracks.

Cuban music has a new global ambassador: Cimafunk. With a name and image that pays tribute to the Cimarrons – Cubans of African descent that resisted slavery – and music and showmanship that re-embodies funk legends from the last century, the medical-school student turned funk artist has developed into a musical force crafting the sonic future of the island and a global, cultural phenomenon that unites and celebrates blackness across borders, oceans and languages.

After the success of El Alimento, Cimafunk delves even further into his exploration of the intersections between funk and the sounds of the continent and gives us Pa' Tu Cuerpa (Mala Cabeza Records), his most polished and mature production to date. For this occasion, Cimafunk has summoned a constellation of extraordinary artists and musicians.

"Collaboration is something I really enjoy," he confesses. "This album has artists that I had always wanted to work with, of whom I am a fan and of whom I have a lot of influence from them." From the legendary touch of funk master George Clinton, who also appeared on Cimafunk’s last album, to the jazz mastery of top AfroCuban pianist Gonzalo Rubalcaba, through the vibe of Colombian rockstars Monsieur Periné, to the Caribbean rhythms and melodies of Haitian producer Michael Brun, and the youthfulness from Havana’s urban street scene of Cuban newcomer Wampi, each guest works like a piece of clockwork in this masterpiece.

“Cuchi Cuchi” is the track that immediately takes you to the Cimafunk of 2024. Catchy, danceable and super funky, “Cuchi Cuchi,” which is a playful way to say “hooking up,” is a Cuba meets New Orleans mashup ready to explode when performed live. “It’s really funky and you can envision me on stage with my band and feel the way I dress, dance and live life just by playing the track,” says Cimafunk. “My musical director Dr. Zapa is the producer and he’s been with me since the beginning. ‘Cuchi Cuchi’ is Cimafunk & La Tribu after a few years of exploring the world thru festivals, venues, dressing rooms and parties.”

New Orleans – Cimafunk’s new home – jumps out track-after-track on “Pa’ tu cuerpa.” The explosive flow of New Orleans bounce-icon Big Freedia on “Pretty” and the unreplicated, powerful horns of Trombone Shorty on “I don’t care” highlight Cimafunk’s affinity with and full-on embrace of New Orleans music and culture. He’s now a regular performer at the New Orleans Jazz Festival and leads an annual New Orleans – Cuba festival and cultural exchange program, Getting Funky in Havana, that has brought New Orleans top artists and musicians to Cuba to perform for the Cuban people and do work in the schools. The result is a sonic experience as innovative as it is impossible to label; Caribbean but borderless, rooted in Havana but with echoes of Detroit funk and New Orleans bass, horns and street-corner vibes.

Herman Brood's 1984 album The Brood is a high-energy blend of rock, blues, and punk that highlights the Dutch musician's distinctive style and charisma. Known for his rebellious image and raw, gritty vocals, Brood created The Brood with his band, Wild Romance, infusing it with sharp guitar riffs and a pulsating rhythm section. Standout tracks like "Tattoo Song" and "My Girl" reflect Brood's signature combination of edgy rock and blues influences, capturing his unfiltered approach to music and life. The album is a testament to Brood’s influence on the Dutch rock scene, delivering a mix of introspective lyrics and high-powered performances. The Brood remains a fan favorite, offering an authentic glimpse into the world of Herman Brood and his unique artistry. For fans of classic rock and punk, The Brood is essential listening. The Brood is a 40th anniversary edition on light green coloured vinyl.

xd H2 Rockers Revenge - Walking On Sunshine feat. Donnie Calvin (12" Version)

This band, and this album, function as critical missing links that takes one from The Fall to Yard Act, from Television and The Minutemen to Parquet Courts and Sleaford Mods, from punk as a sound to punk purely as an ethos. While any Van Pelt album is a stand alone album, the unique approach they take begs one to enter their world and dig deep in.

RELATED TO: The Lapse, Native Nod, St Vincent, Blonde Redhead, Enon, Jets to Brazil, Vague Angels, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, American Football, Texas is the Reason.

‘The lines between post-hardcore, indie rock, and emo blurred on the two mid-’90s full-lengths from the Van Pelt.’ Pitchfork

‘New York City’s The Van Pelt are an influential, but too often overlooked indie rock band -- cult favorites for many an emo-inclined crate digger.’ Consequence of Sound

‘...should be mentioned a lot more than they are when you talk about the history of emo.’
Washed Up Emo

Back in the day there was this thing called an A&R guy. They would hang out at small venues looking to throw money at the next big thing. In the early 90s, everyone was looking for the next Nirvana of course. NYC's The Van Pelt had just released an album of anthems called "Stealing From Our Favorite Thieves" that seemed to be just that. The only thing is, they didn't want to sign. Legend has it $2 million was turned down over pierogies and coffee one Monday morning because The Van Pelt didn't want to risk crashing and burning. Instead, they were gunning for a long and stable stride even if that meant they would largely remain out of the public's eye forever.

Lack of willingness to play the game didn't mean people weren't waiting with baited breath for their follow up album though. In 1997 The Van Pelt released "Sultans of Sentiment", an album nearly devoid of the anthems and licks people were expecting. In fact, it's a complete bummer of an album that subjects the listener to the point on life's curve where the hubris of youth gives way to a cresting crashing defeat no kid with heart could ever have seen coming. Seeing as humanity are sick fuckers who revel in the misery of both themselves and others, the popularity of Sultans grew and grew and continues to win new loyal fans even today. It's for this classic album The Van Pelt has never fallen off the radar.

That being said, their swan song "The Speeding Train" was recorded while they were working on their third album. In any other age, in any other way, this song would have been a hit. The Van Pelt broke up mid-recording, released Speeding Train as a single, and the rest of the songs from that session didn't see the light of day until they were released in 2014 as the "Imaginary Third" lp.

Why are we here talking about them today in 2023? Because in preparation for the release of "Imaginary Third" The Van Pelt started playing some reunion shows. Soundchecks revealed to them that this band has a voice that was prematurely muted by their inability to see clearly in the thick of it. Returning to explore just what that is 25 years later has led to this first collection of 9 songs, "Artisans & Merchants". This is not a reunion album. This is vindication for that decision made over pierogies and coffee decades ago. The Van Pelt is a band in it for the long haul, free from whatever trappings the mayflies of trends and markets may bring.

For lovers of The Van Pelt, listening to "Artisans & Merchants" is like hearing the voice of a dear friend you haven't seen in years, a friend you used to share countless beers with over banter that went nowhere other than delivering a solid night. Your friend is older, they've changed. In some ways you're worried for them, looks like they might be teetering on the brink of something. In other ways it's the same old them, a nugget of a soul too unique to ever be altered. It's for those unfamiliar with The Van Pelt though for whom we should be truly jealous. This is a stand alone album, incredible vital song writing in and of itself regardless of the long history this band has. The climax of the single "Image of Health" perhaps describes the beautiful desperation best: "And you never felt more alive / Than when the priest came to read you your rites!"

8/10 FULL-PAGE LEAD REVIEW IN UNCUT: “TALENTED ARTISTS SUCH AS ALDOUS HARDING , DELANEY DAVIDSON, IVY ROSSITER AND MARLON WILLIAMS REPRESENT A FRESH COUNTRY-FOLK/AMERICANA MOVEMENT IN AND AROUND CHRISTCHURCH AND DUNEDIN. NADIA REID'S IMPECCABLE DEBUT WILL MAYBE SET A WIDER ORBIT IN MOTION.”
4/5 LEAD REVIEW IN MOJO: “INSPIRED DEBUT BY A YOUNG NEW ZEALAND SINGER-SONGWRITER YOU'LL FEEL YOU'VE KNOWN FOREVER. A WONDERFUL ALBUM"

SUNDAY TIMES DEBUT OF THE WEEK: "SHE RANKS ALONGSIDE LOW AND THE COWBOY JUNKIES FOR DELIVERING SLOW-BURN EMOTION"
"It has all that well-smoked wisdom, that mingling of strength and yearning that seems to charge the work of all my favourite female artists – Laura Marling, The Weather Station, Sharon Van Etten and Tift Merritt, to name but four. Reid is just 23, and since I am loathe to run that “old beyond her years” line, let us simply say that when I hear a young artist making an album as soulful and rich and self-possessed as Listen to Formation, Look for the Signs, I feel so thrilled not only for the existence of that record but for all the music they will make over all the years to come.” THE GUARDIAN PLAYLIST
6MUSIC ALBUM OF THE WEEK
A richness of voice; a depth of emotion; and wise beyond her years; with Listen To Formation, Look For the Signs, 23-year-old New Zealand native Nadia Reid has claimed her place as one of the country’s most evocative and profound young songwriters. Her music traces the sharp mountain peaks, azure coastline, and mirrored images of the land and sky that pinpoint her home country’s vast open landscapes.
Whether nerding about with friends, stunning audiences into silence with her spellbinding live shows or unwinding in the tranquillity of her favourite hometown spot overlooking Port Chalmers’ harbour through her large-rimmed spectacles, Nadia Reid has achieved a gloriously fresh and eloquent new folk sound. “I’ve been in New Zealand my whole life and guess at times I take for granted the serene beauty that I live so closely with,” she says of her music’s majestic affiliation with nature. Mapping out tales of change and loss, whilst drawing inspiration from reading, writing, the human condition, falling in and out of love, death, and birth - it all lends to a superbly balanced album that moves surreptitiously between sparse and fragile melancholia to beautifully brutal lyricism with a philosophical maturity that bellies her years.
Born in Auckland, Nadia’s acoustic roots stem from an upbringing in a musical household where attending folk clubs and festivals were regular occurrences on the family calendar. “I was lucky to witness a lot of live music and theatre performances because my mum was an actress. I was encouraged to learn piano and guitar, and attended a Steiner school where we spent a lot of time in nature, singing songs.” Before long Nadia was listening to The Be Good Tanyas with friend and fellow recording artist Aldous Harding, which spurred her chosen career path. “There was something spiritual about the Tanyas’ records - I vividly remember the goose-bump feelings up my arms, a true connection to the lyrics and vocals,” she recalls. “Aldous was the first person who told me I had a good voice and I thank her for that. I admire her as an artist and writer, and we like to keep up with what each other is up to.”
Creating her own enchanting wonderworld, each of Nadia’s songs explores the elements; truly organic, her vocals ebb, flow and soar but are always ignited with fire from the gut. Her lyrics clearly reference lush landscapes but equally reflect alienation provided by the surrounding Pacific Ocean and mortality of living in such close proximity to Mother Nature’s wrath, as experienced whilst living in Christchurch at the time of 2011’s devastating earthquake. “It shook the city to its core,” Nadia recalls. “I’m sure living through it has shaped my personality and writing. My first EP was recorded just months afterwards, it was a strange time. We were all quite fragile, but I was braver somehow.”
Boldly infusing folk with full flavour, Listen To Formation, Look For The Signs was produced by Ben Edwards, owner of Lyttelton Records in his Sitting Room studios with Nadia’s band consisting bassist Richie Pickard, guitarist Sam Taylor and percussionist Joe McCallum. Whilst 'Reaching Through’s rich but unhurried nature evokes She Hangs Brightly -era Mazzy Star and intricate nuances of Beth Orton are recalled on lead single ‘Call The Days’ which talks of moving to a new town and was the first song penned after Nadia moved from Christchurch to Wellington; spurred on by a “panic attack” and being “worried about making the right choices in life”. Elsewhere ‘Runway’ and ‘Some Are Lucky’ immediately channel Nadia’s love of TBGT’s Jolie Holland and appreciation for New Zealand’s Maori music by Maisey Rika and Anika Moa, plus the inspirational narratives of Kenyan-born Somali poet Warsan Shire.