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Tchaikovsky stands as the central figure of 19th-century Russian Romanticism, embodying its widespread and vibrant vitality alongside a profound and sincere depth. This collection seeks to encapsulate the epic and intense qualities inherent in the genius of his compositions.

Deluxe 180g vinyl. Art Edition LP includes set of six 12”x12” art cards.



The follow-up to Kee Avil's acclaimed 2022 debut Crease: "A stunning debut" (The Quietus); "A whiplash style of uninhibited exploration" (The Wire); "Kee Avil's debut is a force" (Foxy Digitalis); "A work of Frankensteinian wonder" (Electronic Sound); "A tightly coiled, finely wrought vision of avant-pop" (Exclaim); "A debut of fiendish creativity" (Bandcamp Album Of The Day / Albums Of The Year) Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk… and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements - guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months - a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. - jj skolnik

The female-led discodelic soul band Say She She, named as a silent nod to NileRodgers (C'est chi-chi!: It's Chic!"), release their sophomore album `Silver' on theheels of an epic break-out year that grows brighter by the day. The three strong voices of Piya Malik (El Michels Affair staple feature, and formerbacking singer for Chicano Batman), Sabrina Mileo Cunningham and Nya GazelleBrown front the band. This harmonizing trio was formed in a classic New York taleof friends that met by following the music: the downtown dancefloors, through theLower East Side floorboards and up to the rooftops of Harlem. `Silver' was entirely written and recorded live to tape at Killion Sound studio inNorth Hollywood earlier this year and produced by Sergio Rios (of Orgone). Whilethese analog recording techniques help root Say She She's sound in a bedrock oftonal warmth that only tape can achieve, it is also their process of cutting the trackin the moment and capturing the magic of communal creativity that has seen theirsound described as "a glorious overload of joyful elation and spiritualelevation" (MOJO) and "infused with the wonky post-disco spirit of early'80s NYC" (The Guardian). Silver, the element, is known as the metal of self-confidence and the mirror of thesoul. With that, the 16-song double-LP projects not only their growth in writingwith confidence, but also reflects a deeper exploration into their punk-chic, femme-forward sensibility. Ultimately, `Silver' oozes with quirk and adventure and embraces themultifaceted nature of what it means to be a modern femme. The She She'sfully embrace their role as beauticians, actively reminding people of the inherentbeauty in the world. They skillfully employ double entendres and humor toencourage open dialogue and fearlessly address important matters that demandattention.

The lines of genre have blurred beyond recognition. The landscape flickers between haunting ambiance and noisy immersion, electronic and acoustic elements expressing emotional and mental states that are ever changing. "Somebody Else's Song" was their first true "New York album" since the band's relocation from Chicago, and much of the weight comes from the personal change inherent from living in a new place as life continues to whir around us. The duo took their time, the ideas coming into formation over the course of two years. That patience is apparent as the album unfolds, a balance between vulnerability and enormous shapeshifting rhythms.

Originally released on tape by SicSic in 2014, Aprilnacht commemorates a decade of music from Brannten Schnüre and marked the spring in a tetralogy of albums about the four seasons when it came out. Back then the Würzburg-based project consisted solely of Christian Schoppik, who later welcomed Katie Rich to take over the vocals. He used to perform as Agnes Beil, but dropped the name when, while making this album realized his music was becoming "much gentler and more fragile". Aprilnacht already captured the particular musical ideas that Schoppik would thoroughly keep exploring, delving deeper and deeper into the use and manipulation of samplers from sources so diverging as to wander between the five continents to post-war German family television and cult cinema. Heir of the ritualistic intensity of Coil, of the intricate sampler assemblies of Ghédalia Tazartès', and of the dusty, dismal old ballads from around the world, Brannten Schnüre manages to make these paths cross in a territory that is as inherent as it is uncanny; sieged by the past and intimate as a hearth. An organic approach to folk, ambient, and sound collage, where ethereal yet thoroughly textured pieces coalesce in enthralling, delicate, and innermost musical rituals.

The album cover paintings reveal the temper: dreary old towns where shadows come to dim the slow passage of crepuscular colors, a soft area of reanimation where wind and light come close and foresee the night of spring. Aprilnacht was inspired by the stories of German philosopher and writer Friedrich Alfred Schmid Noerr, whose work exhaustively examines the conflict between paganism and Christianity, safeguarding myth in a way that Schoppik describes as boldly modern, humorous and unpredictable in its variations of the Germanic folklore motifs. "I wanted to do the same with the music," he states, and the music here could as well be suitable for a night when household deities welcome wandering will-o'-the-wisps, water nymphs, and gyrovagues to discuss Perchta's leadership of The Wild Hunt, but this album is not a folk tale, it's not an elegy to worlds already gone, hidden in years; it's an intersection of routes that open mysteriously before our ears like a congregation of vapors. Aprilnacht is a gathering of voices; "There are too many children, and none of them keeps quiet," reads the last verse of «Requiem für eine Ringelnatter.»

Sensuality drips over the music to celebrate both the voluptuousness and tragic quality of nature; "It's raining on me, urine from your flowers," Schoppik sings in «Urin deiner Blüten» and later on, faced with a snake's erotic features, as if he wanted to be embraced by it: "Your quick, sharp tongue and your warm venom; that's what the pond is missing." Orality is where this profusion of contents thrives. When the voices get closer and condense, the words reveal the saliva employed to pronounce them; we feel the mouth and the tongue, but when breath envelops them in sorrow and softens their edges, they sound distant, diffused in the atmosphere, letting go of the body that held them. These two vocal facets oscillate permanently and interact naturally with the fertile assembly of samplers and instruments that develop throughout the album, which condense and disperse impersonating each other, interweaving to search for a specific syntax. Tangled whisperings of enigmatic phrases, timid voices that stick out to check the scene but hide away quickly, shivering trance chants and monastic ambiances, distant screams and clamors in between chaos and warfare swirl until bursting into subtle songs where even Mother Mary comes forth softly. Soothed by foggy atmospheres and crackling punctuations, these voices shape a vulnerable crowd, an occasion of fragility. Along this swarm of songs thrown into thin air, accordions sound like heavy-breathing lungs; clarinets sigh like curtains shaking; violin solos wander around like bees; Gjallarhorns cries distend like fleeing cattle; glockenspiels evoke remote music boxes and inherited toys; backward emanations emerge like slender waves retreating. On the banks of stretching loops and ember textures is where the songs slowly nest, collecting the words to find their tone.

A poem by Jorge Teillier says, "To talk with the dead you have to choose words that they recognize as easily as their hands recognized the fur of their dogs in the dark. To talk with the dead you have to know how to wait: they are fearful like the first steps of a child. But if we are patient one day they will answer us with a flame that suddenly revives in the fireplace." This may be Brannten Schnüre's main purpose: To find the voice to speak to those of whom we were a vision. Not in mourning, but acknowledging the obscure and volatile nature of spring's regenerative force, searching for the treasure of balance, as evidenced in the lyrics of «Requiem für ein Schwalbennest,» "Its nest was destroyed so many times before it was finished, and despite that, the shallow builds as if it is infatuated." The same idea is here in the words of Schmid Noerr, who made poetry an act of resistance to the horror of Nazism; "Since having seen the ability of a brilliant spirit to die, with a calm mouth that everyone saw, health is true again and we affirm it, even if rivers of blood flow." And as we call for the dusk's kindness, waiting to return home and eat with our kin by the stove, our ears become used to the games of the night. We feel like we're rowing on wetlands, while the "moon musick" keeps us vigilant against the slightest movement of water or sweet moan because eeriness here is imperative for survival. Do not succumb to the insipid howl of death, for nothing may last but mutability. You see, the rock has moved a little during the night; the rest is just wind fleeing from the void.

Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk—and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements—guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months—a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. — jj skolnik.

Subb-an joins the Semi Delicious family for their 17th edition with the aptly named ‘Wobble’ EP, complete with a remix from label head Demi Riquísimo. The release marks another progression in the label’s sonic development as Subb-an contributes a heady, all killer no filler collection of tracks that fit snugly in the diverse, forward thinking back catalog of the imprint. ‘Liquid Sun’ kicks off the release. A subtle, chugging track that utilises a classic organ with a bass acid lines to get rolling. A low end heavy ‘Contact’ is next bringing with it a deep brooding tone and housy shuffling drums. The A-side wraps up with ‘Balance’ a more ethereal track that uses classic deep house motifs whilst remaining inherently modern. The title track ‘Wobble’ opens up the B-side doing exactly what it says on the tin and the EP closes out with the main man, Demi on remix duties putting his own imitable spin on the aforementioned track.

The debut solo album (and second studio LP) by German singer Nico, Chelsea Girl was released by Verve Records in October 1967, following Nico's collaboration with the Velvet Underground on their 1967 debut studio album. The title is a reference to Andy Warhol's 1966 film Chelsea Girls, which Nico starred in. Born Christa Päffgen in Cologne in 1938, Nico was a singer, songwriter, actress and model. Besides working with Warhol, she had roles in several films, including Federico Fellini's La Dolce Vita (1960). In the 1980s, she toured extensively. She died in Ibiza on July 18, 1988, as the result of a cycling accident at the age of 49. Musically, Chelsea Girl can be described as a cross between chamber folk and 1960s baroque pop. AllMusic reviewer Lindsay Planer gave it four and a half out of five stars, stating that "Nico's inherently bleak delivery is similar to the more modern contributions of Laurie Anderson, Ann Magnuson, and Patti Smith. An unqualified masterpiece." Produced by Tom Wilson, much of the album features instrumental work and songwriting credits from Velvet Underground members Lou Reed, Sterling Morrison, and John Cale. "I'll Keep It with Mine" was written by Bob Dylan, while three other songs are by Jackson Browne.

« Lush Life » (1958) is among John Coltrane’s best endeavours on the Prestige (and Music) label. One reason can easily be attributed to the interesting personnel and the

subsequent lack of a keyboard player for the August 16, 1957, session that yielded the majority of the material. Coltrane (tenor sax) had to essentially lead the compact trio of himself,

Earl May (bass) and Art Taylor (drums). The intimate setting is perfect for ballads such as the opener ‘Like Someone in Love ». John Coltrane doesn’t have to supplement the frequent

redundancy inherent in pianists, so he has plenty of room to express himself through simple and ornate passages.

May provides a platform for Coltrane’s even keeled runs before the tenor drops out, allowing both Earl May and then Art Taylor a chance to shine.

The fun cat-and-mouse-like antics continue as Taylor can be heard encouraging the tenor player to raise the stakes and the tempo – which he does to great effect.

"For his fourth full length album, we see the proficiency of instrumentalist and composer Prins Emanuel in full bloom as he turns head deep into the techniques he established on the preceding outing of Diagonal Musik. Here, he revisit what he refers to as a diagonal approach in composing; i.e. starting at one point and then moving to the farthest point in the process, as a way for him to connect the dots somewhere in the middle, or - like I previously described it for the liner notes of that album - “something akin to drawing only shadows and then finishing with the contours”.
And in the tradition of great sequels, this is a much larger and intricate production. While relying on the guitar as a formative backbone to many songs, the layering of brass and woodwinds houses these compositions in bold and sharply lit structures. Mallets and percussion adds an air of momentum but also grounds these tracks in earthy hues.
Thawed and gracious, Diagonal Musik II in essence creates a space that bridges the various paths of Prins Emanuel’s musical universe. At once post-minimalist and avant garde in nature while also peeking through the door at both IDM and folk music, the lingering sensation is that of a well balanced palate that doesn’t break under the presence of repetition. Enveloped in a fourth world approach to jazz and incorporating the more contemplative side of post punk or art pop, there is a story hidden in here that gives cause to the appropriation of these influences.
The inherent warmth of certain instruments play their part in this story. Emanuel often builds on the notion of ‘organic music’ but broadens the definition via subtle electronic enhancements that sit naturally alongside their acoustic counterparts. Take for instance the voice emulator sequence that opens “Kadens Tre” and is dashed on by guitar slides and flute drills to roll further down a hill of staccato percussion. A few tracks in, the lines are so blurred it becomes a natural state until the harsh and eerie sample loops of closing track “Östan Vind” finally breaks the spell. ”

Of the countless accolades and analyses that surround Blue, no point is more significant than the fact that the 1971 Joni Mitchell album continues to become more popular, revered, referenced, and relevant with each passing day. Such vitality is not only extremely singular; it is the ultimate measure of great art and, in the context of Blue, indisputable proof of the record's accessibility, integrity, and timelessness. If the most brilliant and everlasting music seeks to find truths shared by all of humanity, Blue can be said to be universal doctrine.

Sourced from the original analogue master tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 12,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set presents the landmark album with reference-grade detail, tonality, and directness. Marking the first time the beloved LP has received audiophile-quality treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on definitive-sounding vinyl and SACD sets.

Everything about Blue sounds more intimate, involving, and inescapable on this transparent pressing, which benefits from a virtually non-existent noise floor and superior groove definition. Mitchell's voice, positioned front and center, and primarily accompanied by minimalist acoustic guitar, piano, and dulcimer playing, comes across clearly and prominently. Suspended notes and radiant chords double as question marks, commas, and phrases. The in-the-room presence and spatial dimensionality make absolute the full-range spectrum of introspective emotions — hurt and distress, self-awareness and joy, difficulty and uncertainty, warmth and desire — Mitchell navigates, queries, and contemplates throughout the record. The defencelessness the singer once spoke about is laid bare here like never before.

The packaging of the Blue UD1S set complements its distinguished status. Housed in a deluxe box, both LPs come in special foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. This UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artifact for listeners who prize sound quality and production, and who desire to engage themselves in everything involved with the album, including the unforgettable cover photograph of a ruminative Mitchell shot by Tim Considine.

Deemed the third Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone; universally celebrated by critics, fans, artists, and educators; and defined by a spell of disarmingly vulnerable songs that are at once confessional, intense, spare, honest, painful, hopeful, and exquisite, Blue charts love, spiritualism, independence, and loss like no record before or since. Widely considered the album that established the singer-songwriter template, the largely autobiographical LP changed everything shortly after its original release in June 1971. Amazingly, it continues to do so more than five decades later.

An incalculable influence on generations of artists, it stands as the through-line from Carole King, Elton John, James Taylor, Joan Armatrading, and Leonard Cohen to Patti Smith, Carly Simon, Emmylou Harris, and Rosanne Cash to 21st century contemporaries like Brandi Carlile, Taylor Swift, Sharon Van Etten, and Courtney Barnett. Teetering between agony and optimism, it is — to borrow a phrase from Mitchell's eternal "A Case of You" — a bottomless "box of paints."

The beauty of the stripped-down arrangements, intoxicating melodies, and Mitchell's wisdom on Blue didn't go unnoticed. Critical acclaim, coupled with the depth of the material and Mitchell's reputation, propelled the album into the Top 20 in the U.S. and Top 10 in the U.K. Yet while so much pop music diminishes with age, Blue has defied norms and headed in the opposite direction. Its 50th anniversary year witnessed an outpouring of tributes, reflections, and testimonials that helped frame the record's escalating importance and symbolism — apt in an age in which women have become the prominent trailblazers in rock, R&B, and hip-hop.

Perhaps most succinctly, in a 2021 article celebrating the LP, the Los Angeles Times declared: "In 1971, nothing sounded like Joni Mitchell's Blue. 50 years later, it's still a miracle." Nothing, indeed. Yet "miracle" suggests Blue partially owes to a divine agent or inexplicable circumstance. And though Mitchell's bracing conviction and forthright sincerity can appear otherworldly, her musical approach and lyrical storytelling is nothing if not personal and human. What we hear is pure truth — no matter how aching, complicated, or stark.

Much has been written about the circumstances that inspired the songs on Blue: Mitchell's romances; her time overseas; her disdain for celebrity; her lingering sense of loss at having given up her daughter for adoption; her treatment by the very same industry that her music made uncomfortable; her prolonged search for resolution. These situations and experiences pushed Mitchell to question everything — especially big-picture concepts that have always obsessed mankind: fulfilment, autonomy, love, honesty, being.

"I wanna make you feel free," Mitchell sings on the record-opening "All I Want." Mission accomplished. Blue is liberation — and the start of a freedom that continues to impact music, culture, and identity today.

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab's UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) technique bypasses generational losses inherent to the traditional three-step plating process by removing two steps: the production of father and mother plates, which are created to yield numerous stampers from each lacquer that is cut. For UD1S plating, stampers (also called "converts") are made directly from the lacquers. Since each lacquer yields only one stamper, multiple lacquers need to be cut. Mobile Fidelity's UD1S process produces a final LP with the lowest-possible noise floor. The removal of two steps of the plating process also reveals musical details and dynamics that would otherwise be lost due to the standard multi-step process. With UD1S, every aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the best-sounding vinyl album available today.

Most audiophiles know Alan Parsons Project's I Robot by heart. Engineered by Parsons after he performed the same duties on Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, the 1977 record reigns as a disc whose taut bass, crisp highs, clean production, and seemingly limitless dynamic range are matched only by the sensational prog-rock fare helmed by the keyboardist and his creative partner, Eric Woolfson. Not surprisingly, it's been issued myriad times. Can it be improved? Relish Mobile Fidelity's stupendous UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM box set and the question becomes moot.


Mastered from the original master tapes and pressed at RTI on MoFi SuperVinyl, I Robot comes to life with reference-setting realism on this numbered, limited-edition reissue. Boasting immaculate highs and lows, generous spaciousness, and see-through transparency that takes you into the studio with Parsons and Woolfson at Abbey Road, this definitive edition is designed to demonstrate the full-range capabilities of the world's best stereo systems while offering listeners the convenience of having all the music on one LP.

Featuring a nearly inaudible noise floor, this transcendent UD1S edition functions as a repeat invitation to savor reference-grade soundstages, immersive smoothness, sought-after instrumental separation, three-dimensional imaging, and consummate tonal balances. Able to be played back at high volumes without compromise or fatigue, it is a demonstration record for the ages – the likes of which are no longer being made. This is the very reason you own and invest in high-end audio gear.

The special characteristics of this UD1S version extend to the premium packaging. Housed in an elegant slipcase, the reissue features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics. Aurally and visually, it is made for discerning listeners who prize sound quality and production, and who desire to fully immerse themselves in everything about this conceptual landmark. The Alan Parsons Project's most famous record deserves nothing less.

Inspired by and loosely based around the Isaac Asimov stories of the same name, I Robot delves into themes of artificial intelligence and technological dominance that make the record extremely relevant in the 21st century. Indeed, Parsons and Woolfson's pinnacle creation dovetailed with the ascendency of Star Wars, which itself is experiencing a rebirth in an age of self-driving cars, smart devices, and mindless automation. Lyrically, songs such as "The Voice" call into question human behavior – and their relationship to increasing robotic supremacy – in everyday life. Parsons and Woolfson reflect the associated paranoia, dichotomy, and transformation via shifting sci-fi arrangements steeped in drama and moodiness.

The absorbing tunes on I Robot also continue to fascinate due to their perfectionism and innovation. Borrowing from Pink Floyd's strategies, Parsons and Woolfson utilize a looped sequence on the title track to create new downbeats. "Some Other Time" employs two different lead vocalists and yet gives the illusion that only one is involved. Captivating strings, a piccolo trumpet, and bona fide pipe organ grace "Don't Let It Show." The origins of "Nucleus" stem from a unique analog keyboard concoction dubbed "the Projectron," devised by Parsons and electronic engineer Keith Johnson. Andrew Powell's orchestral and choral arrangements top it all off, with "Total Eclipse" arriving as a frightening track that presages the climactic "Genesis Ch. 1 V. 32."

Does man or machine win in the end? Decide as you get lost in Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc 180g 33RPM LP pressing. Secure your numbered copy today!

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab's UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) technique bypasses generational losses inherent to the traditional three-step plating process by removing two steps: the production of father and mother plates, which are created to yield numerous stampers from each lacquer that is cut. For UD1S plating, stampers (also called "converts") are made directly from the lacquers. Since each lacquer yields only one stamper, multiple lacquers need to be cut. Mobile Fidelity's UD1S process produces a final LP with the lowest-possible noise floor. The removal of two steps of the plating process also reveals musical details and dynamics that would otherwise be lost due to the standard multi-step process. With UD1S, every aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the best-sounding vinyl album available today.

MoFi SuperVinyl

Developed by NEOTECH and RTI, MoFi SuperVinyl is the most exacting-to-specification vinyl compound ever devised. Analogue lovers have never seen (or heard) anything like it. Extraordinarily expensive and extremely painstaking to produce, the special proprietary compound addresses two specific areas of improvement: noise floor reduction and enhanced groove definition. The vinyl composition features a new carbonless dye (hold the disc up to the light and see) and produces the world's quietest surfaces. This high-definition formula also allows for the creation of cleaner grooves that are indistinguishable from the original lacquer. MoFi SuperVinyl provides the closest approximation of what the label's engineers hear in the mastering lab.

HJirok is a mythical figure, conceived as a fictional character by Iranian-born Kurdish singer and artist Hani Mojahedy. Together with versatile music producer And Toma of Mouse On Mars, she combined a variety of sounds collected during their joint travels to Iraqi Kurdistan and elsewhere with heavily processed recordings of Sufi drum rhythms and setar melodies. The result is a driving, dubbed-out, and deeply intricate soundscape that perfectly sets the stage for Mojahedy's extended, unconventional vocal techniques and polyglot lyrics. Both informed by tradition and rigorously forward-looking, »Hjirok« (with a lowercase J) is at once a profoundly personal album and a universal utopian promise. As a ghost from the past, HJirok draws on Mojtahedy's memories to mould a new future out of them.

The foundation for »Hjirok« was laid in the city of Erbil in the Kurdish part of Iraq. During one of their stays in the region, Mojahedy and Toma recorded the three percussionists Hadi Alizadeh, Jawad Salkhordeh and Serdar Saydan as well as setar player Ali Choolaei from Motahedy's backing band while they were playingthe rhythms and notes that she had grown up with in the house of her grandfather in the Iranian city of Sanandaj. Her memories of that place revolve around hypnotic Sufi music, dervishes in deep trance, and ecstatic singing. Much like this music seemed to open a portal to other dimensions, the inhabitants of the house lived in a sort of alternative reality: It provided them with a hideaway from political circumstances. Following the Iranian revolution in 1979, a Kurdish rebellion ensued but was met with the utmost brutality by the new regime, which resulted in the death of thousands.

It is no coincidence that the music on »Hirok« would draw on rhythmic patterns that were passed on from one generation to the next for hundreds of years. »The project is rooted in the figures of the Sufi dervishes and thus a culture that precedes today's political, social, cultural, and religious systems,« explains Mohtahedy. »The Sufi sound travelled around the entire world. I like to think of it as a dialogue between peoples-one based on the rhythms of the drums and the sound of their voices.« Toma adds that by electronically transforming the recordings and enriching them with field recordings from both rural and urban spaces, they were able to use the stories told by the drums and the setar to create an entirely new narrative.

The story told by these eight pieces is hence a deeply personal, but also inherently political one. Moitahedy herself left Iran in 2004 and relocated to Berlin in 2010. Having continued to use her art as a platform to tirelessly advocate for the rights of the Kurdish people and women under oppressive regimes, she has not been allowed to return to her country of origin ever since. »Hani is singing for equality and there are people who are afraid of that-her femininity, her strength.« Toma says. Much like earlier Hirok sound installations addressed human-made climate change and other systemic ills, also »Hjirok« can hardly be disconnected from far-reaching struggles for liberation and equality.

This is also true on a thematic and even linguistic level. »The lyrics are about a promise,« Mojahedy says, citing Kurdish writer Ebdulla Pesêw as an inspiration. »At their core, these are about that day on which violence and fear become a thing of the past; what they tell you is ot not give up, to keep hoping,« she adds. The promise embedded in them is an emancipatory one. These contents are mirrored on a linguistic level: The lyrics were written in both Kurdish and Farsi, blurring the lines between the two languages and thus, Kurdish and Persian cultures.

Mojahedy, or rather HJirok, conveys these philosophical themes with elegance. Herversatile vocal performance is only loosely basedo n established styles. »Of course everything started with traditional rhythms, but we kept pushing things further and further, so Idid the same with my voice,« Mojahedy explains. »There were no boundaries.« The same can be said of the field recordings that she and Toma used. Whether it's conversations between members of the Pesmerge, the Kurdish armed forces, having a chat in meadow full of bunnies or the humming and buzzing of metropolises like Tehran: »Hirok« paints a sonic picture that is quite literally autopian one; that of a non-place in which different soundscapes, cultures and ways of life coexist peacefully.

What the album conjures up from Mojahedy's memory is not only a very specific place during a unique time in history as experienced by a single person. It is also ametaphorical home open to anyone who wishes to enter - promise of a better, more egalitarian future for everyone. Hence, HJirok will bring it on tour, presenting the material as an audio-visual live show that makes use of the photo and video material that Mojahedy and Toma have collected during their travels through Kurdistan.ja

More Than Ten Years Since He First Emerged On Skull Disco, Appleblim Presents His Debut Album. The Label He Co-founded With Shackleton Was The First The World Heard Of His Productions, But Laurie Osborne's Innate Relationship With Electronic Music Culture Reaches Back Much Further Than Those Groundbreaking Early Days Of Dubstep. Early Days Spent Soaking Up Hardcore, Jungle, Techno And Plenty More Besides Were Fundamental Foundations From Which To Spring Into The Then-unknown Realms Of Sub-low Half-step Club Music. At That Time Fwd>> And Dmz Were The Church For This Ritualistic Sound, And Appleblim Was A Regular Fixture At Both.

As Dubstep Matured, Magnified, Mutated And Meandered, So Appleblim Moved Beyond Skull Disco To Explore Different Avenues Of Expression In The New Many- Layered Club Music Landscape. His Own Apple Pips Imprint Was A Natural Vessel On Which To Explore The Emergent Fusions Of Hardcore-derived Sounds And The Us-born House, Techno And Electro, While Labels Such As Aus Music Equally Provided A Home For His Work (often Alongside Komonazmuk). Meanwhile Long-standing Collaborations With Alec Storey (al Tourettes / Second Storey) Finally Manifested In The Hyper-modern Mind-twist Of Also, Captured As An Album On Legendary Rave Label R&s.

More Recently It's Been Possible To Hear Appleblim Delve Into Electro-acoustic And Ambient Production Alongside Bassweight Sounds On Tempa, One Of The Original Bastions Of Dubstep Culture. As The Existing Boundaries Between Genres, Cultures, Eras And Scenes Continue To Dissolve, On His Debut Album Appleblim Offers Up A Fresh Approach That Brings Some Of The Foundational Sound Ethics Of Rave Culture Into A Modern Framework.

Hardcore Breaks Are Still A Regular Sound Source In Contemporary Club Tracks, But On Life In A Laser It's Instantly Apparent That Appleblim Has Moved Beyond Choosing Popular Drum Samples To Truly Tap Into The Elusive Feeling Engendered By The Music Of The Era. It's A Tricky Feat To Manage, But In The Pie-eyed Chords Of ignite', The Subby 808 Tom Basslines On nci' Or The Mr. Fingers Synth Flex On manta Key' The Sonic Finish Sports The Same Understated Grit And Grime That Made Those Early Records So Timeless. There's Still Space For Modernism, Not Least On Snaking 2-step Killer i Think We'll Let The Gas Sort This One Out', But It's Offset By A Layer Of Dust, Not To Mention An Inherent Moodiness That Can't Be Faked.

This Fine Balance Of Rave Romanticism And Future-minded Approaches Binds Together In A Cohesive Conceptual Statement. First And Foremost It's Appleblim's Personal Reflection On The Music That Has Moved Him On Countless Dancefloors Since His First Flirtations With Soundsystem Culture. At The Same Time The Canny Influx Of Modern Ideas Into The Soundworld Of The 90s Genuinely Results In A New Proposition, Making For A Perfect Fit On The Modern-day 'ardcore Fetishists Label Of Choice, Sneaker Social Club. Many May Claim To Draw On Old-skool Influences In Their Modern Trax, But Take One Listen To flows From Within' And You'll Feel The Same Time-slipping Surge Of Future-shock As The Ravers At Lost, Dreamscape, The Dungeons, Clink Street, Blue Note And All Those Other Iconic Spots.

“Though seeing they do not see, though hearing they do not hear or understand.”

NYC-based producer/visual artist Nathaniel Young returns with the sophomore 12” under their techno-focused alias, Guilt Attendant. “A Flower Wilts Under The Heat Of The Son” is cut from the same cloth as 2020’s “Suburban Scum” where Young delves into overtly religious motifs and ideological critique of their cult-like upbringing. Here, though, Young challenges themself and the listener to seek hope and resolve rather than hatred and contempt.

Considering its sometimes-monolithic sound palette, the timeless sub-genre of dub techno has long stood as a versatile vehicle for exploring and expressing a wide range of emotions. From mourning those we’ve lost, to somber reflection, to hope and celebration–all united by warmth, soul, and perhaps most importantly, groove. This versatility has underpinned Young’s affinity for the dub techno framework, and this collection of tracks is the culmination of material that they’ve long aspired to manifest. Atop this foundation, Young explores the place of acceptance and understanding that they’ve ultimately had to reach in relation to their religious upbringing and the inherent dualities that plague dogmatic religious circles and our beloved dance-floor communities alike.

“A Flower Wilts Under The Heat Of The Son” places a heavy emphasis on groove and swing while attempting to stretch the limits of classic dub techno tropes. Through creative melodic layering, swung low-end, and syncopation, these tracks hope to offer a fresh take on the sound while remaining solely devoted to the dancefloor.

Through their design work for Dais Records and Hospital Productions, Young had the pleasure of crossing paths with the recently departed Juan Mendez (Silent Servant), who graciously contributed a striking, cacophonous, and noise-laden remix. Given Mendez’s expansive and diverse body of work, as well as his own affinity for dub techno, Juan’s contribution could not be more harmonious. A singular talent and an extremely kind, generous soul, Juan will be dearly missed.

Rest in peace Juan Mendez, 1977-2024

Roughrider, the new album by Tim Midyett (Silkworm / Bottomless Pit) and MINT MILE rolls through the grace we crave and grant one another, the lengths we go to accommodate those we love, the depths we sink chasing ghosts - temporarily, repeatedly, maybe always and the labyrinthine nature of life, as the chaos inherent in the world provides the capacity to surprise, delight, deflate, disappoint. We try to get it in while we still can, reveling in the good-to-great and avoiding the worst of it. With Jeff Panall (Songs: Ohia), Justin Brown (Palliard), Matthew Barnhart (Tre Orsi) and a cast of fellow travelers including appearances by Nina Nastasia, Alison Chesley and Joel RL Phelps.

Danish imprint Inherent Futurism returns with its second release in 2024, entitled 'Merger' and made up of a selection of cuts from the Copenhagen Electro Alliance. Inherent Futurism is the new label launched by Morten Kamper, an intrinsic member of the Copenhagen electronic music scene and the man behind the city's 313vinyl_collective record store. He launched the label with a reissue of the Autobot-1000 '3 Dimensions Of Space', a hidden gem from 2001 and the golden era of Electro. Here though, he brings things closer to home and revisits an array of select compositions from the Copenhagen Electro Alliance, compiled together to make up the aptly titled 'Merger'. The package is made up of twelve tracks across two twelve-inch vinyl from artists in the alliance, Nixxon, Brain Enterprise, Deimos Defender and Kruzh'em. As the name of the Copenhagen Electro Alliance collective would suggest, the aesthetic leans heavily towards experimental sounds and draws influence from the soul of Detroit electro, which paved the way for the future of the genre. The twelve-track collection explores all of the classic Electro tropes from punchy and crunch 808s, intricately intertwined synthesizer melodies, murky bass lines and dynamically unfolding, heavily modulated constructions, some leaning towards dance floor friendly while others lay more in the realm of sonic exploration of futuristic music.

Inveterate, known for championing transformative sounds, is thrilled to announce the launch of its maiden Various Artist compilation, "Incurables 001".

"Incurables" isn't just a title; it's a testament. It epitomizes the label's and its artists' relentless pursuit to push creativity's boundaries. The term captures the insatiable, 'incurable' passion for genuine music and its inherent message.

The compilation boasts an ensemble of prodigious talents, with contributions from artists such as Cressida, S Ruston, Ôtone, Znzl, Giordano, and Rommek. Together, they've crafted a compilation that is not just a collection of tracks but a synergistic blend of sonic narratives.

Curated by Tapefeed, each track on "Incurables 001" functions as a piece of a larger puzzle, resulting in a cohesive and impactful auditory journey that is sure to captivate listeners.

Musique Infinie is the collaborative project of Manuel Oberholzer a.k.a. Feldermelder and Noémi Büchi.Their album »Earth«, released through the Hallow Ground label, is based on a spontaneously composed live score for Alexander Dovzhenko’s groundbreaking 1930 silent movie »Zemlya« (»Earth«) created for the 24th edition of the VIDEOEX festival for experimental film.

Frequently cited as a masterpiece of early 20th century filmmaking, the movie deals with the collectivisation of Ukraine’s agriculture. The Swiss duo complemented it with atmospherically rich electronic soundscapes that are both deeply immersive and highly evocative. As a stand-alone music release, the two-piece »Earth« album captures the essence of Büchi and Oberholzer’s collaboration that is marked by mutual trust and musical versatility that puts them in a state of »togetherness trance,« as they call it.

Oberholzer has been highly productive as a composer, musician, sound designer, and installation artist in recent years, releasing a slew of solo albums as well as a variety of collaboration records with artists such as Sara Oswald and Julian Sartorius. Büchi has recently debuted as a solo composer and sound artist working with electroacoustic techniques to create a »symphonic maximalism for the end of the world,« as she dubs it.

Both are prolific and versatile artists with a penchant for working conceptually, however their collaboration as Musique Infinie is an improvisational and thus by design an intuitive one.

Their sessions start with an exchange on emotions and thoughts rather than theoretical questions or aesthetic debates. When they get to work—often for several hours—they rarely talk.

They approached »Earth« the same way, improvising freely together and using only a few select samples from the film’s original score in the process. Their open-ended approach is marked by an aesthetic ambivalence that perfectly corresponds with the movie’s own inherent contradictions.

Dovzhenko approached his socio-political subject with poetic imagery and philosophical rigour, juxtaposing notions of traditionality with the depiction of modernity.

Büchi and Oberholzer accordingly work with motives that at o ce seem anthemic and elegiac, working with sounds and musical motives that evoke a sense of familiarity in one moment before transforming into something futuristic and uncanny in the next. Their score for »Zemlya« is not to be understood as a mere interpretation of the movie, but rather a re-narration or even re-negotiation of its aesthetic and emotional qualities under their very own terms. »Earth« is an album that concisely depicts what is at the core of the duo’s musical partnership

For the last seven years, sound artist, technologist, and electronic musician Moisés Horta Valenzuela (aka Hexorcismos) has been studying artificial intelligence and generative art, wondering how these new technologies might be augmented into his musical process. Born in Tijuana and currently based in Berlin, Hexorcismos has long attempted to break down the permeable borders between musical styles and expressions, using the spaces in between to reinforce his politics and worldview. And on 'MUTALISMX - becoming sonic network', he expands his vision, inviting artists from across the globe to collaborate on work that questions the biases inherent in AI models, offering a collective alternative that could serve as a blueprint for further research.

The majority of AI art at this stage works with "big data", taking ideas from the cultural canon and muddying them with our contemporary reality. But if we accept that mass culture is always politically biased, always swaying towards historical prejudices, then there must be a counter-narrative. Hexorcismos began to develop a bottom-up approach, using "small data" to interrogate his idiosyncratic approach to art; he built a tool called SEMILLA.AI based on neural audio synthesis that could not only mimic his sonic fingerprint but transform it into another. So when he offered the synth to his network of collaborators, he gave them the option of either using only their data or sharing the signatures of each other artist involved in the project, blurring their identities into a mutual voice.

The result is a compilation that unspools with the coherence and fluidity of a single-artist album or adventurous DJ mix, genreless and boundless but unified by a singular message. Hunanese-American artist Kloxii Li for example takes rugged percussion and tense, industrial ambience, smudging her soundscape into a swirling gust of ghostly dissonance. Hexorcismos himself contributes two compositions: the lengthy, hypnotic 'Acaso de veras se vive con raíz en la Tierra', an AI-powered scramble of his pointed tribal guarachero experiments; and 'Interferencias', a collaboration with Mexican club veteran Bryan Dálvez, aka El Irreal Veintiuno that drives intense dancefloor rhythms into a dense haze of frozen drones and radio static. Elsewhere, Berlin-based Lebanese artist and writer Jessika Khazrik dissolves her voice into a mesh of obscured rhythms and dissociated whirrs, blending the organic with the artificial but retaining an overpowering sense of humanity.

Some artists were drawn to the nebulous aspects of the technology, searching for truth in a soup of different sounds, while others, such as KMRU, used Hexorcismos's synthesizer the examine their output. On 'hidden options', the Kenyan sound artist fed his immense catalog into the neural net, bringing out his mannerisms and tendencies in the process. Each track is singular but myriad, prompting both mutual respect and a sonic becoming, a feedback process between the artist and the tool, the individual and the collective. Data sets are made by people, and by engaging directly with musicians, Hexorcismos suggests a new way of utilizing a technology demonized and glorified without careful examination. Each artist owns their AI model, and alongside the album Hexorcismos will release SEMILLA.AI to the public (with custom-made models to start the process), allowing anyone to access this revolutionary technology.

Even the album's artwork reflects the political message, conceptualized by Chilean duo hypereikon, who used AI processes to develop a visual reflection of the technology and its possibilities. Operating outside of academia and capitalist enterprises, MUTUALISMX proposes an alternative future - one without borders that's not beholden to the Western canon, where independent labor can be prioritized and celebrated, and where creativity can truly flourish.

Futurismo present a deluxe vinyl package of the never before reissued 1987 avant industrial album: Bad Mood Guy by Severed Heads.

With an oeuvre of electronic experimentation that dates back to 1979, Australia’s Severed Heads rawly garnered everything from the sources around them: the sounds of the city, tape loops, old machines, distortion.

Although essentially one man, chief noisemaker Tom Ellard, he was joined here by film maker/homebrew video synthesizer operator Stephen Jones, and effects producer Robert Racic: who had worked with New Order. The result is a punishing view of pop, all crunching rhythms and electronic juxtapose. By incorporating popular tropes such as consistent rhythms, melodic vocal lines and drum machines this was perhaps as near to alittle “boogie-oogie-oogie” as Severed Heads were likely to get, but the outcome is a striking hybrid of the avant-garde, EBM and Synth-pop, an industrial vortex in which the sounds of the 20th century are sucked in and spat out around a monstrous dance beat.

Never pandering to expectations, Ellard saw dance music as a benchmark area where exploration was still possible. Big ideas and big sounds, notto mention big headaches when the original CBS mixes were left in a taxi cab. Whilst many of their contemporaries persisted without dignity, Bad Mood Guy’s cool melancholy assured a fanbase in America and dance floor loyalty with ‘Hot With Fleas’, which dares to sit alongside classics like ‘Dead Eyes Opened’. The unique inventiveness inherent in Severed Heads work makes this release essential for fans of Throbbing Gristle, Kraftwerk, Skinny Puppy and Cabaret Voltaire.

This remastered version of the original CD contains lost original versions and remixes and comes with a fold-out artzine booklet with liners by Ellard.

In the 1970s, Robert Cahen turned to the burgeoning field of video art, where he became a pioneering artist. He was originally trained in musique concrète, his creative background, and joined the Groupe de Recherches Musicales in 1972. The pieces on this record were composed in the GRM studios between 1971 and 1974. They testify to a lively inspiration and imagination combined with a precocious formal mastery that already carries the seeds of later developments, which the artist cleverly and inventively deployed in the field of visual arts. (François Bonnet, Paris, 2022)

--

«La nef des fous» (1974), 12’00

There are pieces of music whose title is obviously a mere label given afterwards to a finished product. And others, on the contrary, which develop in spiral around a bundle of images and impressions condensed into a few words. This is the case indeed with La nef des fous. However, this work by Robert Cahen oddly wraps itself around its title, with bends, breaks, and an impetus driven further every time to close a new circle, for such is the very essence of the spiral. This, at least, is the way I perceive the form of the work, with its theme-chorus which, in part one, both ponctuates and disrupts the emerging musical curve in various ways and at irregular intervals, as well as its broader and more open second part, which closes with a recollection of the beginning of the work. The challenge of a musical form justified by the topic it illustrates, right down to its gaps, its wanderings and its twists, and which would confer upon it the necessity of a profound logic, that of insanity, is the challenge attempted by Robert Cahen. In such a genre as tape music, so careful with respect to form, one can appreciate its audacity. La nef des fous, or Unity through heterogeneity, or Each to their own madness, but all in the same boat. This means that if we can listen to each of these sound characters, “broken chants”, which create the work for themselves, through the singularity of their delirium, we can also, from one to the other, trace the continuous chanting of a music that is inherently and spontaneously poetic, a music that carries “the unconscious under its skin” (Christiane Sacco). (Michel Chion, January 1976)

«Masques 2» (1973), 08’34

Concert version (for tape only) of an audiovisual work entitled Masques, in which the faces of old dolls and «masks», filmed during the Basel Carnival, were projected in 16mm. Masques 2 is a metaphorical version of Masques in which music is featured in its arcane musicality.
Through its concrete and suggestive music Masques 2 aims to bring to light hidden memories, buried within us, thus enabling an awakening, the resurgence of events from our own history. (R. C.)

«Plurielles» (1971), 08’35

Premiered at the Paris Biennale, 24 September 1971. Suite based on the score of a TV film directed by Sophie Talmon.

«Persona» (1971), 08’34

Premiered at the Paris Biennale, 24 September 1971.

«Passé composé» (1971), 05’29

Repetitive actions, looping in your head forever. Forever? Never. Zero is endless. All flowers and fades. No permanence is ours. We are a wave, that flows to fit. And yet, “Music for a film”, a cassette tape by Swedish artists Sofie Herner aka Leda, inheres the power for perpetuity. A circulating dreamland, built on loop pedals, guitar, and tape manipulation.

The Malmö based artist, who is already famed in the global experimental, improvisational, lo-fi noise underworld for her own musical creations as well as being part of bands and projects like Enhet För Fri Musik, Källarbarnen, or Neutral, brings music made for the film “Dödfött“ - an interactive flick by director Niklas Hansson about failed online karate and caducity, screened with a stage art performance at Hypnos Theatre, Malmö, in early autumn 2022. Cinematic sounds for all the Velvets, that never awaken from their first DIY Super 8 dream.

Colorful, yet monochrome electrified and acoustic guitar melodies, monotonous, working like drones, getting all stranded in the zones. Six minimal compositions. Full of plenty, always friendly. Heavy, calm, dreamy, shredding, scratching, created for the woman of the world. And all other creatures, that seek features in unbroken repetition. As nobody keeps any of what he has, one day the eternal veil of forgetfulness will warp us all. Until that hour we dance in circles. Making karate moves, sidestepping caducity, reenacting ourselves, endless at the edges, through night and day, craving form that binds. As form is emptiness, emptiness is form itself. Welcome to the world of Leda, riff, 7/4, loop, the young, the middle aged, the old…

Tape is hand-stamped along the top, in printed card housing, with

Decision Paralysis is the first collaboration by Eva Sajanova and Dominik Suchy.

Their music is very minimalist, repetitive, still, the compositions // songs surprisingly evolve over time. The cold synths are beautifully augmented with raw or effected layers of Sajanova's vocal. Of striking prominence is the decision to forgo the use of any beats or percussive elements. The whole album revolves just around vocals, synths, and layers, and the richness they possess enough in themselves.

This goes in line with Suchy's previous work, one of his trademarks being working mostly with melody and harmony, defying a lot of what is going on in contemporary experimental music. In a way, it is a strive to return to classical or pop ????? in her deepest sense; experimental more in the use of sounds, approaches and forms, rather than defying the musical.

The lyrics are exclusively in Slovak, open to interpretation and perhaps leaving the listener unburdened by meaning, enabling them to focus on Sajanova's voice, phrasing, and vocal techniques. They span from child-like repetitive dadaist poems, to heavy existentialist statements on life's inherent beauty yet meaninglessness.

All of it is further supported by the album cover by the Slovak illustrator Martu, blurring the lines between the naive, the beautiful, the natural, synthetic, dark, and glowing. All at the same time.

Drum To Death is a collection of 11 experiments by Peter Kernel and their favourite drummers. Throughout 2020-2023 Peter Kernel invited eleven of their most esteemed drummers to send them rhythms with which they composed these eleven tracks. Each song was written and dedicated to the inherent drummer as an ode of appreciation to the beat creator. These eleven songs come together as a unique collection of an odd collaboration based on appreciation for different styles and people, a microworld made of different feelings, patterns, colours, intentions and attitudes. The album features collaborations with Bernard Trontin (The Young Gods), Cosmic Neman (Zombie Zombie), Beatrice Graf, Domi Chansorn, Ema Matis, Tam Bor, Hugo Panzer, Julian Sartorius, Kevin Shea (Storm & Stress, Lydia Lunch), Simon Berz, Simone Aubert (Hyperculte, Massicot).

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

Gloam is the highly anticipated sophomore album from alternative folk band MAYBEL. Similar characteristics from their debut, Gathering, are carried forward: elegant harmonies, soft instrumentals and a shared optimism coupled with a wide open vulnerability. The songs still echo the intimacy, warmth and closeness of their relationships, yet the band has matured. MAYBEL's evolution shines through with ambitious compositions, thoughtful songwriting, and a deeper understanding of themselves as the album’s themes pierce with growing pains, anxieties and hopes for change. It’s a record about movement and stopping; the ongoing act of coming apart and coming together. Gloam is for listening in your bedroom or in transit, missing friends, on your way to see them. It holds an optimism that rings clear yet nestles and dwells in a brooding, muddy darkness - placing it firmly in the illustrious Canadian folk canon. This is the first album for which all four members (Fez Gielen, Ali Hendra, Loris Kecaj and Lauren Spear) wrote songs. For the most part, they were written during the pandemic separately and then shared in the upstairs living room where Lauren, Ali and Loris used to live together. The result is a shared diary on love, grief and moving on. The band's ability to effortlessly blend traditional folk elements with modern production techniques is reminiscent of the collaborations between Emmylou Harris and Daniel Lanois. Just as Harris and Lanois brought a fresh perspective to country music, MAYBEL embraces experimentation in their sound without compromising the warmth and intimacy inherent to folk music. As with their debut Gathering, MAYBEL recorded Gloam with producer/engineer Jonas Bonnetta at Port William Sound in Mountain Grove, Ontario. Resonating with a sound borne of the studio’s deeply intimate rural environs it is no wonder the band chose to return. Here they were joined by Eliza Niemi on bass/cello, Caylie Runciman on bass/drums with Jonas adding synths and percussion. Gloam is an old Scottish word for twilight. It appears like a fantasy between the day and night, a time seemingly frozen, drifting, or ignored all together. Gloam is the mood and time within which the album takes place. MAYBEL describes it as being: “In transition, between sleeping and waking—a quiet underworld where one is alone with their thoughts, in true presence with the in-between.” The final track on the album, “For Nothing”, captures something of the album’s twilight hope. It begins with lilting solos and gracefully builds in energy and color. MAYBEL sings to its listeners, “All that work for nothing” with a buoyancy and radiance that chimes against the lyrics. They repeat: “All that work for nothing”. For all of the band, the last few years have resulted in significant change and stress. Yet they continue to try, through their music, to will themselves towards optimism. They ask for you to marvel with them at the charming and terrifying possibility of life. They harmonize again, not despairingly, but almost ecstatically “All that work for nothing!”

»Arches« is the first collaborative album by brothers Simon and Tobias Lanz. It was written for and performed on self-built prototypes of wind instruments that were inspired by the classic pipe organ, but allowed the two composer-performers to go beyond its limitations in several ways. The music on this 40-minute long album for the Swiss Hallow Ground label was conceived and recorded by the two co-founders of the CRTTR collective and label during an artist residency in May 2022 in their home town of Bern. More than a mere document of a performance however, »Arches« combines the artists’ interest in exploring uncharted new creative and tonal ground inside of and beyond the realm of drone music with their background in visual art and design as a conceptually concise whole.

Simon and Tobias have a combined background in electronic music as well as a shared penchant for drone music. They hence designed these novel instruments in a way that allows for microtonal tuning to be able to overcome the restrictions inherent to the dominance of a twelve tone-based scale in Western music and work with a sonic palette that is much wider and nuanced than that of the conventional pipe organ. Furthermore, the physical design of these instruments widely differs from that of those which inspired them. This allows—or more precisely, forces—the musicians to freely invent and explore entirely novel playing techniques.

These factors, of course, also have an impact on the compositional process, which by design needs to be unconventional. The Lanz brothers worked with a graphic score for the four movements of the piece that forms »Arches« so as to adequately visualise the manifold tonal nuances of their instruments. This graphic score in turn was reinterpreted for the album release by Ramon Keiming, adding another dimension to it. Read from left to right, this remix of the score allows the listeners to follow an interpretation of the evolution of these dronescapes while the record plays, urging them to add their own interpretation.

This retroactive visualisation and thus spatialisation of the music is perfectly in line with its performance, which at all times factored in the acoustic affordances of the Prozess Bar in Bern. In many different ways, the Lanz brothers now invite their audience to join them there and explore the near-infinite possibilities of their curious instruments together with them. Much like Hallow Ground label mates such as Kali Malone or FUJI||||||||||TA, they are dedicated to enriching and expanding upon the musical and sonic qualities of pipe organs, but with widely different aesthetical results. To call »Arches« a unique record with an unheard-of sound is not hyperbole, but only factually correct.

FSOL present the final instalment in the Environments Trilogy. “7.003” goes deeper and darker than the previous two albums, the flavour here harping back with memories of the group’s 90’s sounding pre “Dead Cities” album. On this release we have swamp laden electronics dripping from cavernous breakbeats weaving in and out of otherworldly chords and strings firmly back in the driving seat.

FSOL deliver not only the final piece of the jigsaw but a clever jaw-droppingly sensorium.

2023 Repress
Moon in Earthlight describes the phenomenon one can see in the first few days after a New Moon, when the slim crescent of the moon is completed into a full circle by a faint light that is not lit by sunlight but by the light reflected from Earth. It is also the apt title for the first album from an artist whose first love was astronomy. After 6 EPs over the course of 5 years, Wolfgang Tillmans now releases his first album, Moon in Earthlight, a singularly plural 53-minute piece comprised of 19 tracks.
Opening with more that connects us than divides us, 'Celloloop / More That Connects Us', a looped cello sets out a discursive path for a bright keyed melody to flirt with while the sounds of the organ and synthesizer build their supporting roles, all along a bouncing four-to-the-floor beat punctuated with bright electronic chimes and the rhythmic tempo of a shaker. The invitation is hard to resist as a yearning voice opens up to let us know he's left his "place in security." And, "you're shining … All the way down to this glittering place … you're shining." Where voices and laughter are then overheard in the background of another field recording sounding water dripping from a 'Rain Gutter' later caught by the soft, warm rhythmic bounce between two synth notes on 'Fourth Floor' where chime-like and percussive timbres resonate from the metal tine keys of the kalimba creating a meditative acuity, which Tillmans peppers with arpeggiated synth riffs.
A composition of multiplicities, Tillmans' album debut is a collage of sounds, field recordings, words, studio jam sessions and live recordings, voice, soundscapes, and instrumentation scored with audible space to breathe along the way. Keeping pace, the first 'Kardio Loop' is a vocal callisthenics contemplating 'the possibility of a happy life' and/or the propositional properties of its semantic constructions backed by the recording of a heartbeat from a cardiogram. This movement is gradually accompanied by a set of orchestral synth pads that build to a crescendo before the soft, twirling melody of 'Stonerella' carries us along a carousel-like melodic, pop, instrumental timed in the percussive clapping of pebbles.
Not knowing where one leaves off and the other begins is part of this album's enigma, as we move in and out of these aural spaces choreographed with the slightest, open hand, where we can float through 'Don't Kill It by Naming It' before dancing along 'Insanely Alive' all the while contemplating the inherent, fragile complexities of language and being.
This enigma also stems from the raw vulnerability of Tillmans' voice. Whether lyrically playful or introspective, it is always giving: intimately unfolding as in the surprising take on Simon & Garfunkel's 'El Condor Pasa' or shapeshifting in 'Can't Escape into Space' or fully naked as raw material expression in 'Kantine' and 'Ocean Walk'.
Whether it's Tillmans voice or voices overheard, a field recording or a pop synth melody, these sounds defy track listings, audibly held together as one of many in an aural space that becomes a reflective cycle that develops over the course of the album. The accumulative effect of which (reminiscent of the artist's installations), drives the singularity of each of the album's elements into a complete, unconsolidated whole. Like a phenomenon that marks time, Moon in Earthlight is the shadow and the reflection, fifty-three minutes in time.

The earth rotates, seasons change_there is but one long day_ Time is a beguiling, indistinct entity_sometimes standing still, sometimes bending back upon itself with premonitions or memories of the future. Growing out of a pen pal style correspondence that took place over the course of a year, separated by the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria de Oliveira and Dean Hurley passed thoughts and music back and forth that would eventually form their collaborative album, Oceans of Time. The result is an aural tapestry of that exchange: woven from conceptual threads of the celestial within, mortality and the realm beyond stars. The duo's partnership is an effortless merge, yet it's the steady presence of de Oliveira's vocals that endows the record with its sense of potency. Throughout the album, there is an innate understanding of how a lyric across a chordal color can sharpen an emotional truth. Much like a sunbeam that pierces a spiderweb to reveal its intricacy, her lyric and melody are purposely aimed in order to illuminate the truths deep within oneself_a process that ties us all to the universal. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, a professed influence, wrote about the truth as something that was inherently subjective, less about the concrete reality of what is believed and more about how it is experienced by the believer. Frequent David Lynch collaborator Dean Hurley sets the tonal and sonic landscape of each track on the album, lending a layered ether that envelops, frames and holds de Oliveira's vocals. With its impressionistic synths, shimmering guitars, and ethereal sonics, Oceans of Time at moments recalls the foundational dreampop of 4AD acts like Cocteau Twins and Lush. The album feels especially attuned to the connections between the physical and transcendental realms, and the best dreampop has a way of making the veil between two worlds feel just a little bit thinner. Oceans of Time is a key that has the power to release its listener from the handcuffs of reality, however briefly_

The earth rotates, seasons change_there is but one long day_ Time is a beguiling, indistinct entity_sometimes standing still, sometimes bending back upon itself with premonitions or memories of the future. Growing out of a pen pal style correspondence that took place over the course of a year, separated by the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria de Oliveira and Dean Hurley passed thoughts and music back and forth that would eventually form their collaborative album, Oceans of Time. The result is an aural tapestry of that exchange: woven from conceptual threads of the celestial within, mortality and the realm beyond stars. The duo's partnership is an effortless merge, yet it's the steady presence of de Oliveira's vocals that endows the record with its sense of potency. Throughout the album, there is an innate understanding of how a lyric across a chordal color can sharpen an emotional truth. Much like a sunbeam that pierces a spiderweb to reveal its intricacy, her lyric and melody are purposely aimed in order to illuminate the truths deep within oneself_a process that ties us all to the universal. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, a professed influence, wrote about the truth as something that was inherently subjective, less about the concrete reality of what is believed and more about how it is experienced by the believer. Frequent David Lynch collaborator Dean Hurley sets the tonal and sonic landscape of each track on the album, lending a layered ether that envelops, frames and holds de Oliveira's vocals. With its impressionistic synths, shimmering guitars, and ethereal sonics, Oceans of Time at moments recalls the foundational dreampop of 4AD acts like Cocteau Twins and Lush. The album feels especially attuned to the connections between the physical and transcendental realms, and the best dreampop has a way of making the veil between two worlds feel just a little bit thinner. Oceans of Time is a key that has the power to release its listener from the handcuffs of reality, however briefly_

Straight Outta Caledonia is the first commercially available “Greatest Hits” of the outsider songwriter Jackie Leven, an artist
who has largely remained in obscurity in his native Scotland despite being one of the greatest wordsmiths – and singers – it ever
produced. A well-travelled musician who began making psychedelic, progressive music in the late 60s before emerging as an
epic storyteller full of pathos, humour and humanity in the 90s, Leven lived and wrote like many of the fragile, gregarious
characters of his songs; large, full of life and empathy. Leven passed away in 2011 after recording 30+ albums under different
guises or with his briefly successful New Wave band Doll by Doll. Straight Outta Caledonia is a compilation collated by Night
School Records on its Archival label School Daze that seeks to introduce Leven’s music to new generations.
In an age of isolation, alienation and loss of visceral experience, Jackie Leven’s music can be massive and welcoming. It feels
connected to some universal humanity and vibrates with vitality. His songs are often full of tragedy and comedy simultaneously,
cutting straight to the heart, often plugging directly into the nervous system of the listener. His lyrics are rich, dense with imagery
that can veer from apocalyptic to the comically banal in a sentence, with a songwriting panache that can be heavy handed to
almost bursting point before skewering the song with a clownish, warm punchline. His productions ranged from Bob Dylan’s
Rolling Thunder Revue style rock band orchestrations with strings and organ as on the epic Ancient Misty Morning or they could
be pared down to the purest form of folk song as on Poortoun: Leven on stage alone with an acoustic guitar, albeit played with a
mastery of the instrument that he often only hinted at. Musically his sound can bend traditional structures or stay completely
confined within them yet still forever push towards an ecstatic release, as on the cinematic Snow In Central Park.
The most exciting, jaw-droppingly effective tool at Leven’s disposal was his voice. A multi-octave instrument that, though
damaged during a savage assault in Fife, he used with flair; he had both a brazen disregard for the rules and a deep humility, all
of which is evidenced with every phrasing. A baritone that could flit up through the register – always touched by his gentle
Kirkcaldy accent – it’s the prime delivery method for his songs. Leven’s voice enabled him to inhabit the characters in his songs to
an uncanny degree, a skill that in turn enables the listener to empathise with them and, subsequently, the singer. It’s most evident
in stand out song The Sexual Loneliness Of Jesus Christ, a breathtaking re-telling of the life of its protagonist, not as a pure,
sinless messiah but as a sexually frustrated, solitary man condemned to an existential loneliness no one else will ever feel. In
many ways the track is the archetypal Jackie Leven song. Produced by Pere Ubu’s David Thomas, what strikes the ear first –
after the samples of unemployed workers in Glasgow following the closing of the Clyde shipyards – is the audacious, rhythmic
tremolo effect Leven employs through the verses before the production opens up to allow Leven’s vocal to lift into a soar, a
freeing glide powered both by the force of the singer’s chutzpah and the inherent, doomed destiny of the protagonist. With any
other singer such subject matter could come across as gauche or worse, pretentiously sonorous, but Jackie Leven’s genius was
such that he could be this cinematic and brazen while touching something elemental and true in the beholder. It’s a skill evident in
every song on Straight Outta Caledonia, the trademark of a songwriter who revelled and excelled in intensity with a lightness of
touch.
In his lifetime, Jackie Leven toured, wrote and recorded at a ferocious rate. He recorded under aliases to avoid record contract
restrictions, played house shows in Europe after or instead of official concerts, events which were often spoken word story telling
masterclasses as well as performances of his often bewilderingly dense songbook. His music has traditionally been catalogued
as “folk” music and has been largely banished to a small, dedicated group of international fans and apostles both private and well
known, like author Ian Rankin or Glenn Matlock. Since his passing in 2011 however, there has been a growing recognition
amongst a newer generation, with artists like James Yorkston or Molly Nilsson publicly stating the influence of the unsung
troubadour on their own craft. Jackie Leven’s fairytales for hard men are often forensic deconstructions of masculinity, sad and
ecstatic, light and shadow, always endlessly rich, a resource as bountiful as Leven himself’s human spirit undoubtedly was.

Following the release of the shoegaze masterpiece Delaware in 1992, and the intricate experimentations on National Coma in 1993, Drop Nineteens disbanded. They had a great run. Shared stages with Radiohead, Hole, Blur, PJ Harvey. Went from being teenaged kids in Boston to mid twenty somethings with an MTV video under their belt. So when Drop Nineteens ceased to be, Greg Ackell felt content, music was a closed chapter. That was until 2021. For the first time in nearly 30 years, Ackell felt compelled to pick up a guitar. He immediately called up Steve Zimmeran, the band's bassist and fellow guitarist, and the two got writing. It felt effortless for Ackell, like he never stopped writing music. "We were off to the races," he says. "But also the question came up: what does a Drop Nineteens song sound like today? Enter Hard Light, the band's stunning third record. It's the band's proverbial follow up to Delaware, a modern Drop Nineteens record that is completely singular in its sound and vision. The first task making Hard Light, was of course, getting the rest of the band back together. Drop Nineteens is an inherently collaborative project. Ackell's primarily the lyrics writer, and he collaborates with Zimmerman, Paula Kelley, Motohiro Yasue, and Peter Koeplin to create the sonic world. The record came together over the course of a year, recording at a patchwork of studios all around the country. Making music together felt natural, fluid, exciting. The guitar reverb is expansive as ever. Ackell and Kelley's vocals are crystalline. "Scapa Flow," is triumphant. An excellent example of what a modern day Drop Nineteens song sounds like. The guitars glide like clouds on a blue sky day, drums shuffle in the background, searching. Ackell and Kelley's vocals are cool toned and dreamy, bound up in a haze of reverb. It's unquestionably lovely. You could say the same for the whole of the record. Hard Light is so lovely. A portrait of a band 30 years later, as talented and as dedicated to their craft as ever.

If there’s anything that defines SUDS, it’s friendship. Meeting through their love of the DIY scene currently emerging in Norwich, the band quickly found themselves gravitating towards writing songs together, and by Autumn 2021, Jack Ames (drums/vocals) joined Maisie Cater (vocals/guitar) and Dan Godfrey (guitar/vocals) to form a line-up that felt inherently natural. Stepping in on bass duties came Harry Mitchell, and things seemed to click instantaneously. Driven to keep the spark going they all upped sticks from their far flung edges of the county, pooled together to get a touring van and set to work. Just like their 2022 debut EP, In The Undergrowth, SUDS ventured down to Kent to record with producer Ian Sadler (Roam, Anavae), ready to explore the next chapter of their story. Step forth debut album The Great Overgrowth, a record brimming with addictive melodies and gorgeous moments of optimism. Their evocative and sometimes literary approach to lyrics takes inspiration from midwest emo and the 1960s Greenwich Village folk scene - Cater and Ames would regularly distract themselves while writing, gazing between the pages of books by Woody Guthrie, Allen Ginsberg, Bob Dylan and Brontez Purnell - which appears across their songwriting and would quickly become the foundation for their sound. Finding a delicate balance of sensitive lyricism dripping in warmth and killer guitar hooks, The Great Overgrowth follows on from the EP, telling the next part of the tale, as a tight knit group of twenty-something year old friends struggling and floating through life, to becoming more confident in their everyday lives and friendships while embracing change. The band are already off to a flying start, conquering sets at 2000 Trees Festival, The Great Escape and Truck Festival, as well as sold out shows with Spanish Love Songs, Pool Kids and Martha. Their talent for achingly intelligent, relatable lyricism and a heft for devil-may-care creative output already puts them heads above the rest. SUDS might be fresh faced but have the maturity and drive to become one of the most exciting emerging artists of 2023.

Jdotbalance left the moon and the sky for a city that works. This is their first offering for the ESP Institute. On side A, 'Sublimate' combines two aspects of a digital pipe and mallet assortment—both as the percussive base for a groove, and as an interstitial layer where inherent resonances are massaged into melody. Bubbles and squeaks dance around the sound-stage periphery, occasionally pierced by high frequency statements, presenting as either ghostly yelps from the aether or as bursts of kaleidoscopic shards. A third of the way through the track, the instrumentation truly does sublimate, crystallizing into a new self—bolder and naughtier, abandoning its pensive optimism for a detour around the spectrum's dark end. On the flip, 'Precipitate' continues with its predecessor's primer of metallic percussion, but accelerates the pace to reveal Jdot’s attitude leaning toward cunty malice. The kick drum relentlessly pounds us as 16th note droplets metamorphose from chrome-dipped hail into full-blown acid wind. As intensity retreats beneath the digital rubble and the track draws to a close, so does our stream of Jdot’s consciousness. These two songs will accelerate your nervous system.

The iconic voice of Luzmila Carpio rings out from the Andes, spreading messages of indigenous struggle, female empowerment and unceasing love for both the people and planet around us. An undeniable icon of Bolivian Andean culture whose career spans multiple decades, Luzmila has released more than 25 albums (there’s a reason that Rolling Stone described her as”one of the most prolific indigenous singers of South America”), inspiring millions while singing in both her native Aymara-Quechua language and Spanish. Yet Luzmila Carpio isn’t someone who’s content to simply rest on her laurels; she continues to take risks and push her music into vibrant new soundworlds. On new album Inti Watana: El Retorno del Sol (her first LP in a decade), she’s teamed up with Argentinian producer Leonardo Martinelli (a.k.a. Tremor), a ZZK veteran who’s spent the bulk of his career finding the common ground between Latin American folk rhythms and modern electronics. Building off the momentum created by 2015’s Luzmila Carpio Meets ZZK collection in which her music was reworked by not only Tremor, but standout electronic artists like Nicola Cruz, Chancha Vía Circuito and El Búho this new album is meant to stretch across genres, generations and continents, with Luzmila’s sonorous, occasionally birdsong-inspired vocalizations gracefully gliding amongst ambient textures, programmed beats and (of course) a bevy of traditional instrumentation from around the globe. Over the course of the LP, Bolivian charangos and quenas sit comfortably alongside the sounds of harmonium, violin, acoustic and electric guitar, Argentinian bombo leguero and sacha guitar, Armenian duduk and a litany of Asian percussion. Inti Watana: El Retorno del Sol which will be accompanied by a full length documentary might not sound like previous Luzmila Carpio releases, but on a spiritual, political and lyrical level, her core values remain unchanged. A native of Bolivia’s Potosí region, she’s long been a beacon for indigenous communities in not just her home country, but throughout Latin America, her voice inspiring joy and pride amongst ancient peoples whose culture and inherent beauty are often overlooked. Her pursuit of music a field traditionally dominated by men in Andean communities long ago made her a pillar of women’s empowerment, but Carpio has also been a vocal proponent for social change, using her influence to advocate not just for the rights of women, but for the protection and increased visibility of all indigenous people. Yet it’s the planet itself that Carpio is most passionate about, and she’s devoted much of her new album to conversations with Mother Earth and Father Sun

EP opener ‘Scary Movies’, is a wickedly euphoric slice of driving techno that rushes the bassbins and dials up the serotonin levels to the max. A true mutant roller that’s guaranteed to drain the smoke machine dry. Following that is ‘Getting’ a snarling and unpredictable masterclass that traverses through jagged techno and twisted breaks. A proper hard working number, loaded with attitude and built specifically for all night sessions.

‘Esvedra’ kicks off the B-side and keeps things moving at a blistering pace. A laser-focussed club cut that is guaranteed to run amok through every space it graces. A razor sharp face melter stacked with hammering percussion and lethal drum work. Rounding off the release is Yushh’s brooding and expertly restructured remix of ‘Getting’. A heady cocktail of UK Bass in its most sinister form and a heavy dose of the more off-kilter and forward-thinking sounds coming out of not just Bristol but the UK as a whole. This is proper lights down and sound system up material at its finest.

‘Scary Movies’ unequivocally displays Dawn Razor’s skills as an increasingly confident producer and one of the most important artists emerging out of the Russian scene. While simultaneously showcasing Yushh’s inherent ability to think well outside of the box each and every time. Blue Vinyl Edition.

LTD ORANGE VINYL

GLOK is the electronic alter ego of Andy Bell; best-known as the guitarist in venerated shoegazers Ride, alongside stints in other famous groups, with a noteworthy solo careertoo. This October his first album proper as GLOK - 'Pattern Recognition' - is released via Ransom Note Records' sisterlabel Bytes. Although usually renowned for purveying the finest quality jangle, drone and general guitar-based magic, Bell's forayinto dance music should come as less of a surprise than immediately meets the eye. There are parallels between the genres within the sonically-deep layers, hypnotic sound and trance-like headspaces, or, as he puts it more succinctly: "GLOK is all about the push and pull between electronic and psych in my music." Although not a full-blown concept album, 'Pattern Recognition' has a loose thread which takes in a week of life, from weekend to weekend, with each of the vinyl's four sides capturing different mind states across that transition. Each side has a distinct feel that's different to the last but inherently cohesive - much like the changes an individual goes through over 7 days. Across the album with loving craft Andy weaves together throbbing dubbed-out acid, steamy jack trax, levitational psychedelia, sparkling Balearic, techno, Kosmische, shoegaze, art rock and Compass Point-style post punk -with just a hint of ambient, new age and contemporary classical too.

The female-led discodelic soul band Say She She, named as a silent nod to Nile Rodgers (C’est chi-chi!: It's Chic!”), release their sophomore album ‘Silver’ on the heels of an epic break-out year that grows brighter by the day.

The three strong voices of Piya Malik (El Michels Affair staple feature, and former backing singer for Chicano Batman), Sabrina Mileo Cunningham and Nya Gazelle Brown front the band. This harmonizing trio was formed in a classic New York tale of friends that met by following the music: the downtown dancefloors, through the

Lower East Side floorboards and up to the rooftops of Harlem.

‘Silver’ was entirely written and recorded live to tape at Killion Sound studio in North Hollywood earlier this year and produced by Sergio Rios (of Orgone). While these analog recording techniques help root Say She She’s sound in a bedrock of tonal warmth that only tape can achieve, it is also their process of cutting the track

in the moment and capturing the magic of communal creativity that has seen their sound described as “a glorious overload of joyful elation and spiritual elevation” (MOJO) and “infused with the wonky post-disco spirit of early '80s NYC” (The Guardian).

Silver, the element, is known as the metal of self-confidence and the mirror of the soul. With that, the 16-song double-LP projects not only their growth in writing with confidence, but also reflects a deeper exploration into their punk-chic, femmeforward sensibility.

Ultimately, ‘Silver’ oozes with quirk and adventure and embraces the multifaceted nature of what it means to be a modern femme. The She She's fully embrace their role as beauticians, actively reminding people of the inherent beauty in the world. They skillfully employ double entendres and humor to encourage open dialogue and fearlessly address important matters that demand attention.