Cerca:its not over

To give you an idea of what the New Jersey, USA band Cowardice sound like, “Atavist” exists somewhere on the spectrum between the sombre strains of Bell Witch and the tormented tones of Body Void, with the first half of the album (“Suzerain”) erring more towards the bleakly melodic style of the former, while part two (“Sentinel”) shifts the focus towards a darker, dirgier approach; somewhere on the edges between melancholic doom and experimental sludge metal. Perhaps inevitably, it’s not quite that cut and dry - the gut-churning grind of “Unforgeable Key” for example, is just as nasty and gnarly as anything found on “Sentinel”, while the desolate disharmonies of “The Diminutive Principle” channel a similarly angst-ridden aura as much of “Suzerain” - but this distinction between the two halves, subtle as it may be, plays a big role in giving the whole album its sense of direction and progression.

And while it is always recommended to listen to the totality of “Atavist” so as to get the most out of it - especially if you’re a fan of the likes of Cavernlight and/or Chained To The Bottom Of The Ocean, both of whom also serve as useful touchstones for any prospective listener - also pay extra attention to the gorgeously gloomy slow-burn of opener “To The Hilt Of Humanity”, the haunting melodies and heaving grooves of the sludge-soaked “Clairvoyance Anxiety” and the morbid majesty of “Hall Of Mages”, as some of the record’s major highlights. Indeed, it’s this last track which will both test your resolve and prove, once and for all, that “Atavist” is more than worth every second you’ve invested into listening to it so far, with every crushing, cathartic chord and ringing, harmonic note… every tortured, suffering snarl and trembling, melancholy melody… coming together over the course of seventeen absolutely massive minutes to demonstrate that, despite its imposing size and intense sound, “Atavist” is nothing to be afraid of. Green and red coloured double vinyl edition.

Hailing from the West side of St. Louis, Missouri, Mikahl Anthony’s sonic roots spread far across the global Alt-Soul / Hip-Hop scene. A highly soughtafter multidisciplinary artist (who has collaborated with the likes of Mick Jenkins, Chance The Rapper, Joey Purp, Smino and more), as well as being a founding member of Chicago’s THEMpeople collective, he now prepares to unveil his masterful full-length debut Muse via R&S Records.

Accompanied by several beautiful, self-directed film pieces, Muse is a record with storytelling at its core. Interspersed with commentary from a range of sources telling their stories to Mikhal, whilst collaboratively analysing their personal experiences, it speaks a candid and honest narrative, which reinforce the heartfelt lyrics within. With the project’s name anchored around a dual meaning acronym (1. Ms. Using sensual energy and 2. Making use of seclusion every day). The record is an audio version of docufilm, that creatively interprets the idea of self-therapy, an internal/interpersonal reflection of life experiences that serendipitously connect to Mikahl’s personal romantic relationships. Mikahl explains: ‘I wanted to use a unique style of songwriting, arrangement and filming with the intention of soundtracking my self-development/maturation process’.

On the project’s lasting impression on the listener, Mikahl elaborates ’The exploration of inner truth and vulnerability is key to the future of good music. I want this project to act as symbolism that highlights the mantra that honest approaches and authenticity still has the most value. I also want people to see how important the use of community is when you can connect them to your subject matter...I'd like my audience to observe and engage in their own self-reflections, approaches by way of listening or interacting with the story.’

Drifting to an elevated state of consciousness, Muse is a deeply intoxicating and engrossing listening experience from front to back. From the sliding, kaleidoscopic shadows of opening track ‘La Flare’, via the trepidation-laced atmosphere of ‘Polyamorous’ and the hazy, reverb drenched saxophone notes of LP closer ‘Eddie Kane’ - Mikahl channels moments of joy and pain, infused with spirit enriching instrumentation and gritty textures.

Visual stimuli play an integral role within Mikahl’s music. His songs represent transparency and openness dipped in funk. Layers of soft velvety vocals emerge from jazz harmonies, trap rhythms, and social commentary sourced from voiceovers/excerpts. His creations are the musical representation of documentary films. His art is imagery embodied.

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

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

Although never released until recently, Jazz Sabbath's music has been finding its way to millions for over 50 years. Through a vicious cycle of personal tragedy and plagiarism the songs intended to change the jazz world ended up giving birth to a much darker sound. Now a third recording from the Sixties has resurfaced, perhaps their most important one.

In 1968 Jazz Sabbath were an instant hit on the UK jazz scene. It wasn’t long until they were offered a record deal. They spent weeks in the studio recording the tracks that got the heaviest reactions at their shows until they captured their live energy on tape. Unfortunately, the label manager told them the album was far too experimental and there was no hit potential. Ordered to play some of their ‘easier’ tracks instead, they reluctantly gave in.

The 2 albums that followed still are classics in their own right, but they were not mistaken in thinking they had recorded their best work in 1968. Like the tracks from their 2 albums, these tracks were also blatantly presented as 'original songs' by that band from Birmingham a few years later. Whether they copied them from live bootlegs or if they got their hands on the mix, it doesn’t really matter. Their lasting popularity, even in the crude way they were covered, only proves just how monumental these songs were and how record labels are often wrong.

With the truth now finally out there and that Birmingham band exposed as the musical charlatans they are, Jazz Sabbath have finally mastered the 1968 tapes to present their best work to the public.

Rejoice fiends, as this halloween Utter ventures into the darkness for its long-lost 13th release, a limited double LP by infamous electro sorcerer Labyrinthine.

'II-V' wrangles 11 daemonic invocations from the infernal vortex, cut loud at 45rpm on deep red vinyl and incarcerated within artwork by Alison Flora, painted in her own blood.

'II-V' is not for the faint of heart, as its cursed soundscapes have been known to intoxicate and overwhelm even the strongest and purest of minds. Listener beware!

The Invisible Road: Original Recordings, 1985–1990 compiles an unheard, previously unreleased body of recordings by Sussan Deyhim and Richard Horowitz, dissidents from diametric backgrounds who met during the heady days of Downtown New York in the 1980s. This collection reveals the creative and life partners’ radical shared vision of avant-garde pop in all of its boundary pushing freedom, combining Deyhim’s singular approach to vocalization, Horowitz’s invention of new musical languages, and touchstones of traditional music from around the world, creating a new music that ultimately retains a voice entirely its own. Despite their difference in backgrounds and respective journeys, at the time of their meeting in the early 1980s in New York City, Sussan Deyhim and Richard Horowitz were both products of the search for freedom and understanding (and resultant awakenings) that swept the globe and helped culturally define the late 1960s and 70s. Deyhim, born and raised in Tehran, spent her teens dancing with Iran’s Pars National Ballet company, performing weekly on Iranian national television, and travelling her home country studying with master folk musicians and dancers, before relocating to Belgium and joining Maurice Béjart’s prestigious Béjart Ballet of the 20th Century. Horowitz, born and raised in Buffalo, New York, had spent much of the decade before abroad, first departing for Paris under the shadows of the Vietnam War, where he studied piano, Eastern philosophy, and became entrenched the city’s free jazz scene, playing with the likes of Steve Lacy, Anthony Braxton, and Alan Silva, before embarking south to Morocco where his friendship with Paul Bowles helped cultivate a deep passion for the country’s musical traditions and a shift in his musical practice.



The pair met by chance sometime in 1981 at Noise New York, a small studio on West 34th Street founded by the musician and recording engineer, Frank Eaton, as a utopian creative laboratory that beckoned artists and bands like Arthur Russell, Christian Marclay, Liquid Liquid and Butthole Surfers into its orbit. Both artists had recently relocated to the city, Horowitz having recently released his debut album, Oblique Sequences (Solo Nai Improvisations), on the legendary Paris based imprint Shandar, and fallen in with members of New York avant-garde like La Monte Young, Jon Hassell, David Byrne, and Brian Eno, and Deyhim having begun to more actively incorporate singing into her practice, notably recording a vocal score for choreography she was doing at La MaMa Experimental Theatre.



Initially bonding over a cassette tape of field recordings made by Paul Bowles that had been given to mutual friend and writer Brian Cullman (seeking answers for Ornette Coleman’s question “what is the sound of sound”), their earliest collaboration was documented on Horowitz’s 1981 album, Eros In Arabia, with Deyhim contributing vocals to the track “Queen Of Saba.” Over the coming years, their deep connection would routinely gravitate them into the studio, culminating in the body of recordings that would appear on their 1986 album for Crammed Discs, Desert Equations: Azax Attra. Unknown to nearly all but the artists, laying in wait over the decades on numerous multi-track and stereo reels, DAT tapes, and reference cassettes, were a vast array of recordings made by Deyhim and Horowitz bookending Desert Equations. The 13 pieces represented on The Invisible Road: Original Recordings, 1985–1990 were recorded largely between Noise New York and Daylight Studio in Brussels, during a period that Deyhim describes the partnership between herself and Horowitz’s as seeking a music “free of any specific cultural reference, with a personal musical signature,” blossoming into a body of sonority that embraced the energy of contemporary boundary pushing pop and the avant garde, filtered through their mutual love and study of various musical traditions from across the globe and deep engagement with the ideas and tactics of experimental music.



Undeniably rooted in Horowitz’s study of the North Africa ney and the music of the Berber and Gnawa cultures during his time in Morocco, Deyhim’s deep engagement with the folk traditions of Iran, and the couple’s immersion in the interconnected Downtown underground music scenes, each piece on The Invisible Road offers its own vision creative and cultural hybridity. Deyhim sings in both English and Farsi, as well as a composite tongue that she developed by drawing upon numerous indigenous vocal techniques from around the world, intuitively responding to Horowitz’s simultaneous sound syntax forming and combining a wide range synthetic and acoustic instrumentation, and experimental tape techniques, within a visionary series of free-standing expressions.

Ben Klock & Fadi Mohem announce debut collaborative album featuring Coby Sey and Flowdan on new label LAYER

Ben Klock and Fadi Mohem present their first collaborative album on their new label LAYER. The ten-track full length project titled Layer One follows the hypnotic EP Klockworks 34 that set the stage in 2022. In a bold departure from the techno roots that have defined and nurtured their careers, Klock and Mohem are now pushing genre boundaries, exploring IDM, ambient and experimental electronic music while still retaining the brilliance that characterised their earlier work.

The conceptual direction of Layer One delves into a post-human world, where humans are close to extinction on Earth, leaving only imprints, traces, and relics behind—digital fossils and machine-generated images capturing fleeting moments of non-human photography, as Artificial Intelligence remains in a world that quietly thrives without us. We do not perceive this as a bleak apocalyptic dystopia, but more a sober and serene reflection of a world that continues to exist and flourish, indifferent to the absence of humanity. Despite this unremitting setting, through this journey we find survivors who signal a remembrance of the human sensibilities.

Elevating this project are two very human and dynamic collaborations featuring the charismatic Coby Sey and the legendary grime MC Flowdan. Sey, a prominent figure in the British music scene known for his work with artists like Tirzah and Mica Levi, injects his music with a mesmerizing emotional depth. Opening the album with the powerful track ‘Ultimately,’ Sey offers spoken-word musings on creativity and life over experimental landscapes meticulously crafted by Klock and Mohem. Nostalgia permeates this opening track, and track 7 ‘Clean Slate’ reinforces this sentiment with Sey’s stream-of-consciousness wordplay.

Flowdan, the gritty MC whose verses have become anthems of the UK grime movement, made headlines in 2023 with two songs that reached the top 20 of the UK singles chart. In 2024, he was awarded his first Grammy for the Skrillex and Fred Again collaboration Rumble, becoming the first grime artist to win in any category. On track ‘Our Sector,’ Flowdan unleashes his raw energy and dynamic flow, adding a thrilling vocal dimension to the album’s narrative. The fluid delivery of his lyrics and rhythmic timing are enhanced by the staccato beats and abstract synths. These collaborations are not mere features; they are pivotal moments that crystallize the album’s vision—an experimental re-imagining of electronic music’s possibilities.

Immediately offering an impressive entry to Klock and Mohem’s changing sonic universe ‘Escape Velocity’ shows the collaboration at its strongest. Deftly juggling between ambient chords and more densely intricate rhythmic moments. These tightly layered textures and intense clashing moments are continued through most of the album. On other tracks the duo are just as innovative ‘Rest Assured’ rips open the sound palette Klock and Mohem are known for, synths dart around flickering through into unexpected areas. Penultimate track ‘The Machine’ feels like the internal innards of a PC or synthesizer brought to life. Electricity flows through the track like an auditory exploration of the digital world's hidden mechanical and electrical processes. In contrast, final track ‘Melatonin’ does exactly what the name suggests; its soothing melodic ambience cradles the listener as the album draws to a close.

Alongside the album’s release, the duo will release two singles. This album represents the work of two artists at the peak of their creative powers, inviting listeners to step outside the familiar and explore a different musical perspective.

After the reissues of The Beloved’s indie–facing compilation of early singles Where It Is and their first studio album Happiness, next up is their second studio album, Conscience.

Conscience was originally released in 1993, reaching no.2 in the UK album chart hitting 100,000 selling BPI Gold status. It contains their biggest hit to date, the BPI Silver disc awarded Sweet Harmony, a top 10 in the UK and across Europe. Other singles include double A-side of Celebrate Your Life and You've Got Me Thinking, Outerspace Girl, which both hit the UK top 40 and Rock To The Rhythm Of Love, which was released in the United States only.

Available as a 180g heavyweight double vinyl package for the first time, Conscience has been remastered from the original analogue studio masters (by John Davis at Metropolis Studios) boasting louder and clearer audio than the original release. Original pressings of the album are currently selling on Discogs for over £100.

This is a limited run of white heavyweight vinyl, with a standard heavyweight black vinyl release with extra artwork + liner notes following in 2025.

Conscience is a timelessly classic album, still sounding fresh 30 years after its original release.

Before we pack away the poppers for another year, let Red Laser take you for one last spin on the waltzers.
Tried and tested at our recent road block parties in Manchester, these edits shine a light on four primo-grade Italo face melters. Fervently excavated by Bosco over countless visits to Bel Paese and streamlined for the hydrofoil, with some extra added calories for the club.

Opener 'Destiny' tweaks and shudders under analogue arpeggios, dazzling Strat chops and cosmic bass interplay before dropping into a simply glorious female vocal that, thankfully, gets plenty of airtime before Bosco calls close. A track so close to perfection we had to make it longer.
'Flavio', up next - and half sung in Italian so we only know a bit of what she's on about - is another supreme slice of Italo disco from the upper echelons that Bosco snaffled between glugs of Barolo and a face full of worm cheese. Sure to instigate group hugs, 4AM declarations of love, tears of happiness and huge pelvic thrusts dependant on environment and inebriation.

The tingles continue on side B with another supernova burning bright across the stars. 'Newsin' introduces itself with a joyous marriage of marimba and synth before yet another vocal proves Italians really do, do it better when it comes to writing some of the catchiest hooks and choruses in the universe.
'Lace', featuring the record's only male vocal appearance, has a romantic, proto-goth-new-wave vibe; like if Robert Smith and Richard Butler had a chem-sex love child after a wild night in Baia Degli Angeli.

Not sure who the woman in lace is, but we'd defo like to see her down The White Hotel one night...

Black vinyl 180g made only in 100 numbered copies.

This record is different. It is different from what might be expected of Jan Emil Mlynarski by those who know him, from sold-out shows and platinum albums of his bands – Jazz Band Młynarski – Masecki and Warsaw Dance Combo, as an old-timer, curator and reenactor of pre-World War II Warsaw's plush dancehalls and backyards folklore. Quite likely they may not recognize him until the last song, when he removes his shaman mask and bows down: Yeah, that's really me, folks, your good ol' Jan Emil, the entertainer. They might not have even known that he ever played drums because in his flagship bands, clad in a white tux in the former or in a Peaky Blinder hat in the latter, he sings and plays mandolin banjo. In fact, Młynarski has been a drummer for a lot longer than a singer. He stands clear of the jazz mainstream but is active on the progressive scene. A record he contributed to, trumpeter Tomasz Dąbrowski's 2022 release The Individual Beings, was recognized by Downbeat magazine as "excellent" and awarded the highest rating of five stars.

However, this is the first instrumental record to bear his name. As an album by a drummer, it stands out from other records, especially as it features drums as the principal content rather than the performance by a band with a drummer as the leader. It's all about drums, there is neither an articulate melody – because the melodies that are there are only micro-linesencased in ostinato modules – nor is harmony as an intentional chord progression – because whatever harmony-wise there is, is rather a product of the counterpoint of overlapping voices. All sounds other than the drums make only a riverbed through which runs a raging stream of rhythms. And indeed, this record took off just with this stream. At first all the drums were recorded live onto an analog tape, all at once, without overdubs or editing. After that, synthesizer riffs were added, and the record was ultimately assembled on tape without the use of computers or complex postproduction, which sets it apart from most releases today.

Młynarski the drummer acknowledges that he follows the trail beaten by Art Blakey, Max Roach, Roy Haynes, and Billy Higgins, but he walks it in his own strides. He treats the jazz drumming with specific reversed engineering by decompiling the jazz drum kit originally compiled by the pioneer jazz drummers from an array of instruments that had made their way from a jungle to New Orleans, first to Congo Square and then to street brass bands.

This takes him back to the jungle, his drums don't sound like jazz drums, the snare is rare, and the hi-hat and ride aren't there at all. Instead, there are drums and bells from Nigeria, Ghana, Burkina Faso, and Côte d'Ivoire. He doesn't sound like a jazz drummer either, but like a gang of drummers, each playing their own rhythm, and it's hard to believe that all this is the work of one man.

Not only his drumware comes from the jungle, but also the software – his approach to rhythm and time. Its essence is polyrhythm and ostinato. The polyrhythmic matters were unveiled to Młynarski and Piotr Zabrodzki, his creative partner in many projects and co-composer/producer of this album, by the legendary eccentric veteran-drummer Władysław Jagiełło, who introduced them, aged thirteen, to his concept and practice of "17 Latino rhythms at once". Ostinato, an obstinate repetition of a phrase or rhythm, "arrests" time, turning its linear course into cyclical in-place rotations. This is specific not only to African music but also to cultural music of other regions and differs from Western artistic music in that it does not "run" to fulfil an aesthetic intention but "stays" to provide the framework for recurrent routines of communal proceedings.

So, this record is different. And, if you are different too, this is the record for you.

“Music is my forever cove,” writes Portland, Oregon’s Luke Wyland of the ideas that give shape to Kuma Cove, his latest album under his own name. Though named after a real place on the Oregon coast, Kuma Cove casts its gaze far beyond the sightseer’s line of vision. Recorded live in the studio and blurring obvious lines between computer-based composition and electro-acoustic instrumentation, it is an album about flow, borders, transitory states, and shelter. Composed of discontinuous ripples and repetitions (“I’m forever searching for a better descriptor than looping, which feels too simple and flattened by overuse,” Wyland says), shaped into richly emotive arcs, and informed by his experience as a person who stutters, it is also an album about identity, self-expression, and the energies that sluice through and across what we perceive as linear time—like floodwaters seeking an exit, like streams running into the sea.

Artist’s Statement:
I made this record while spending significant time in the woods by the Sandy River in Corbett, Oregon,
where I've had my studio for the last five years. It is a diary of spontaneous live recordings edited to highlight the moments of clarity that emerge from long-form improvisations. These compositions express a slowing internal rhythm. An unwinding. A somatic recalibration as I enter middle age. A newly empowered vulnerability.

Here are the internalized cadences of my stutter, flowing freely from my fingers. The musicality of my disfluency is revealed in its frictions, elongations, and foreshortenings. Disruptions in linear time, where the bubbling cadences of my stutter find unexpected pathways, reveal the elasticity of the present moment. This is my idiosyncratic language, shaped and inspired by my disability. Subliminally mirroring internal processes, neural firings, cognitive entanglements...

The title, Kuma Cove, refers to a beloved cove on the coast of Oregon my wife and I return to yearly. There has always been something so magnetic about coves. The way they cradle one from the overwhelming enormity of the ocean beyond, muting a primordial fear. I experience these improvisations as ecosystems I'm able to inhabit for stretches of time, embodying the particular rhythms and sensorial textures within each. Music is my forever cove. Everything you hear is created live in Ableton on a setup I've been honing for 15 years. I celebrate MIDI and computer music as an extension of self and strive to make it as expressive as any analog instrument. I was a visual artist for the first half of my life and quickly adapted those skills to composing and producing on a computer. The transition felt natural within the landscape of DAW's interfaces, especially as a synesthete. Ableton and its community of Max creators continue to surprise me with its expansiveness.

I'm forever searching for a better descriptor than looping, which feels too simple and flattened by overuse. I envision sonic loops as tangled masses of time, three-dimensional knots spinning on tilted axes, or overlapping wreaths refracting out a myriad of colors. My practice is continually refocusing my ear to what is revealed in the repetitions, searching for the fingerprint of each. I find it incredible how technology lets us manipulate time like this. Nothing on this record is quantized or locked to a universal bpm. Experiencing numerous tempos at once feels important. Recordings as mirrors. Freedom from expected (conversational) flow as we hold time for each other.
-Luke Wyland, August 2024

Artist Bio:
Luke Wyland is an interdisciplinary artist, composer, and performer based in Portland, OR (USA). Wyland has been releasing critically acclaimed records for the past 20 years in the groups AU and Methods Body, as LWW, and under his own name, working with such labels as New Amsterdam, Beacon Sound, Balmat, The Leaf Label, and Aagoo Records. As a person who stutters, Wyland’s approach to music is informed by his idiosyncratic relationship with language. Wyland believes deeply in the cathartic power of live performance as a means for collective healing. Through an interdisciplinary art practice that focuses on improvisation, somatic embodiment, bespoke tuning systems, the cadences of disfluent speech, and time manipulation technologies, he’s collaborated with choreographers, high-school choirs, filmmakers, sound designers, and renowned musicians such as John Niekrasz, Holland Andrews, Colin Stetson, and Abraham Gomez-Delgado. He’s also the co-creator of the “It’s A Fucking Miracle” dance class with Tahni Holt.
Wyland has toured nationally and internationally and performed at the Whitney Museum, Ecstatic Music Festival, Issue Project Room, PICA’s Time-Based Arts Festival, End of the Road Festival, and Les Nuits Botanique, among others.

Jan Anderzén - living in Tampere, Finland - is a collage artist making music, quilts, drawings, mosaics, videos and other things. From him, among a few others, sprang the The River of Finland. A stream that shook the European underground for infinity, back from the years 2005 and up. Jan is/was involved in acts like Kemialliset Ystävät, Avarus, Tomutonttu and The Anaksimandros. When in the past some of that River of Finland tasted like a fermented ocean of mycelia - today it tastes different, like sparkling water.

Halki pilvien - transl. Trough the clouds - brings exactly what one expects from the clouds. It is a collection of soft and gentle movements, as playful as a ‘Jan Anderzén type of music’ is always. A collection of patterns that solidify for just a brief moment in time, before sublimating in the back of the mind. This album is in constant motion.

Push play. A warped piano and cartoonish SFX’s might foretell a hyperreal approach to music. Yet while the champion of hyperrealism, Noah Creshevsky, describes his music as being written in a language we already understand (realism) yet in an exaggerated manner (hyper) - I have to add that things on this album do not sound exaggerated at all. Moreover, i have the feeling that somehow on this work, Jan is trying to underwhelm us. In the best possible way. Because clouds float trough and dissolve. Thus instead of hyperrealism, is Jan maybe speaking to us in a certain Serenerealism? Or Mildrealism?

What Jan’s music does have in common with Creshevsky’s is the no rush part. Listening to Halki pilvien makes time non-directional. The music seems to be designed to be played over and over again. This music has no direct impact like one can experience at a punk show, or at a classical music concert. This music is not that one gigantic raincloud covering the world dark. Quite the opposite, it is a pattern of clouds and clearings, floating over the lands. Trough this music a shadow play appears. This music is durable.

And it is when the sounds are at its faintest, that Jan touches the core: in the smallest detail, we find the fullest musical information.

Not at all dangerous, but no less powerful and devoted to one another, the Coppola family have loomed large in film and the arts for decades.
The head of this particular family was not a Don lurking in the shadows, but a brilliant composer arranger and conductor: Carmine Coppola.
On the face of it, this album is a bit of a curiosity, though it was surely the first recording to bring together music from both Godfather films in this way.
Its original release coincided with a high-profile television event called The Godfather: A Novel for Television (also known as The Godfather Saga).

The extended cut necessarily featured additional music and arrangements, which were overseen by Carmine Coppola.
We can safely assume that at least some of that forms part of what is included in The Godfather Suite. For it, Coppola selected and re-arranged musical highlights from the two films,
including all of Rota’s main themes and his own source music pieces, creating what is essentially a 14-part symphonic suite.

It’s all rather beautifully executed, with great romantic flourishes, and it’s a fitting tribute to Carmine Coppola’s talent, not to mention his contribution to two legendary films.
Carmine Coppola himself passed away just months after the release of The Godfather Part III. A highlight of that final score is the ‘Love Theme’,
which was the basis of Carmine Coppola and lyricist John Bettis’s Oscar-nominated original song ‘Promise Me You’ll Remember’. The instrumental arrangement is included here in addition to the Suite.

Robin Carolan's latest soundtrack for Robert Eggers' highly anticipated Nosferatu is a haunting, gothic-infused and meticulously crafted work that draws from a vast palette of sounds, instruments, and inspirations. Following their successful collaboration on The Northman, Carolan reunites with Eggers to bring the legendary tale of Nosferatu to life, infusing the film with a score that is as complex and nuanced as the story itself. With Daniel Pioro, one of Britain's most exciting young classical musicians, at the helm as the orchestra leader and first chair for a vast majority of the recording, the soundtrack features a vast orchestration, including 60 string players, a full choir, various horns and woodwinds, a harpist, and two percussionists. Despite the grandeur of the orchestration, one of the most challenging pieces was the music box used at the film's beginning. Carolan and Eggers struggled to perfect its sound, a process marked by their meticulous attention to detail, which Carolan describes as almost telepathic. Set in the 1800s, Nosferatu allowed Carolan to incorporate contemporary instrumentation, though he made a deliberate effort to ensure the score didn't sound overly modern. Letty Stott, who also worked on The Northman, contributed ancient horns and pipes, enhancing the soundtrack's eerie atmosphere. Additionally, percussionist Paul Clarvis custom-built a toaca-like instrument for added authenticity. Carolan's inspirations for the soundtrack were as eclectic as they were profound. He frequently drew upon the works of Bartok and Coil, while films like The Innocents, Angels and Insects, and Eyes Wide Shut provided cinematic inspiration. Additionally, he explored the more obscure side of Hammer Horror soundtracks and found a deep connection to the music of the Ukrainian film The Eve of Ivan Kupalo, which helped shape the score's otherworldly tone. Carolan intentionally moved beyond the typical horror score, focusing on capturing the tale's melancholy and tragic elements while weaving in a sense of warped romanticism. The result is a soundtrack that not only complements the film but also stands on its own as a testament to Carolan's artistry and the enduring power of collaboration.

Robin Carolan's latest soundtrack for Robert Eggers' highly anticipated Nosferatu is a haunting, gothic-infused and meticulously crafted work that draws from a vast palette of sounds, instruments, and inspirations. Following their successful collaboration on The Northman, Carolan reunites with Eggers to bring the legendary tale of Nosferatu to life, infusing the film with a score that is as complex and nuanced as the story itself. With Daniel Pioro, one of Britain's most exciting young classical musicians, at the helm as the orchestra leader and first chair for a vast majority of the recording, the soundtrack features a vast orchestration, including 60 string players, a full choir, various horns and woodwinds, a harpist, and two percussionists. Despite the grandeur of the orchestration, one of the most challenging pieces was the music box used at the film's beginning. Carolan and Eggers struggled to perfect its sound, a process marked by their meticulous attention to detail, which Carolan describes as almost telepathic. Set in the 1800s, Nosferatu allowed Carolan to incorporate contemporary instrumentation, though he made a deliberate effort to ensure the score didn't sound overly modern. Letty Stott, who also worked on The Northman, contributed ancient horns and pipes, enhancing the soundtrack's eerie atmosphere. Additionally, percussionist Paul Clarvis custom-built a toaca-like instrument for added authenticity. Carolan's inspirations for the soundtrack were as eclectic as they were profound. He frequently drew upon the works of Bartok and Coil, while films like The Innocents, Angels and Insects, and Eyes Wide Shut provided cinematic inspiration. Additionally, he explored the more obscure side of Hammer Horror soundtracks and found a deep connection to the music of the Ukrainian film The Eve of Ivan Kupalo, which helped shape the score's otherworldly tone. Carolan intentionally moved beyond the typical horror score, focusing on capturing the tale's melancholy and tragic elements while weaving in a sense of warped romanticism. The result is a soundtrack that not only complements the film but also stands on its own as a testament to Carolan's artistry and the enduring power of collaboration.

French hip-hop producer Ugly Mac Beer, with over 20 years of experience in the industry, returns to his youthful passions and ventures into synth-punk production for the first time with his upcoming album titled "Broken Ill". Three decades later, he brings to fruition an album he has dreamed of making since the age of 16, adopting a "Rick Rubin style" in its creation and production.

"Broken Ill" transcends the boundaries of a typical album. It features a UK sound that seamlessly blends post-punk, electro-punk, darkwave, new wave, while still maintaining its roots in US hip-hop, with a significant touch of rap rock.

Mac Beer's influences are clearly heard throughout the album, ranging from the Beastie Boys to The Cure, and including Kraftwerk and Sleaford Mods.

In terms of collaborations, Ugly Mac Beer has enlisted a diverse array of rappers from various backgrounds. Among them is the iconic Princess Superstar, a prominent figure in the 90s underground scene, whose hit track "Perfect", released two decades ago, unexpectedly resurged on TikTok, sparking excitement and eventually securing a place on the 2024 Billboard Charts. It even underwent a remix by David Guetta himself.

Additionally, Mac Beer has teamed up with French rapper signed to Kitsuné, Mynameisleonidas, who has contributed to a significant portion of the album. Other collaborators include the singer from the French punk band Frustration and Mac Beer's longtime collaborator and friend, The Real Fake MC a.k.a OP18.

With "Broken Ill", Ugly Mac Beer, hip-hop beatmaker par excellence, surprises and delivers a solid rap rock album with a pervasive UK influence, inviting listeners into his ever-evolving, creative, and audacious universe.

Is A Feeling ensures that their new 12" very much is with some classically inclined but not overly nostalgic deep house from Scott Featherstone. 'Plan B' is a bulky, wonky deep house cut for the pumping after party hours, then 'We Played House' taps into the early Chicago sound with Peach Boys style synths and dubbed-out vocals. 'Bad Mother Fucker's a raw, sleazy looper that DJ Sneak would love not least because of the rude-boy vocals and filtered synths, then 'Badass Breaks' spins out on just that. 'Journey' might be the best off the lot with its soulful xylophone melodies and smooth-cruising deep house beats. An eclectic and excellent EP.

»Nuts of Ay«, the thirteenth album by the Berlin-based electronic pop duo Tarwater (Ronald Lippok and Bernd Jestram), is their first in a decade, since 2014’s »Adrift«. Beautifully poised and smartly dressed, it's an album that draws Tarwater’s various pasts into a high-definition present, while bringing the duo, yet again, into productive dialogue with all kinds of fellow travellers.

Tarwater’s music has always been marked by a hypnotic pop-ness, but that’s particularly evident on »Nuts of Ay«, where a song like »Hideous Kiss« weaves together jangling guitar, pastoral flute, and flittering electronics into a gem-like construction. While the lyrics of »Hideous Kiss« are written by the duo, »Nuts of Ay« also continues a longstanding Tarwater tradition of recasting the words of others in their own mould. This time, their remit is broad: poetry from Derek Jarman (»All Nuns«) and Millner Place (»Trapdoor Spider«); lyrics from Jean Kenbrovin (»I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles«), the late Shane MacGowan (»USA«) and, again, John Lennon (»Everybody Had a Hard Year«).

This cast of found and borrowed lyricists also finds collaborative echo in the guest musicians dotted throughout »Nuts of Ay«. Schneider TM turns up on the lovely, Felt-like »Spirit of Flux«, where guitars channel the tangled reveries of Vini Reilly and Maurice Deebank into lush pop. Carsten Nicolai joins, as Alva Noto, dappling »On Waves and Years« with intimate glitching textures; he also provides the album cover art. Elsewhere, Masha Qrella appears on »Down Comes the Goose«, and actor Lars Rudolph pitches in for »USA«.

It may have been ten years since the album's predecessor, but Lippok and Jestram have kept active with other projects. They’ve collaborated with Masha Qrella, Immersion, and Iggy Pop; worked on radio plays with Kai Grehn, some based on the writing of Nick Cave (»The Sick Bag Song«, featuring Tilda Swinton, Paula Beer and Alexander Fehling) and William S. Burroughs (»The Cat Inside«); and made music for several radio-tatorts (radio plays based on »Tatort«, a long-running German police TV series) by playwright Tom Peuckert.

Both voracious and committed in their creative energies, Jestram and Lippok report back from these experiments with »Nuts of Ay«, one of their most compelling, deeply lustrous, dreamlike albums yet. They say there was no concept for the album, which is surprising, perhaps, given its holistic mood, explaining it »grew together like a coral reef in the studio over a period of several years«. There’s something to be said for letting an album gather and mutate naturally, without an overarching framework in place, and »Nuts of Ay« certainly feels like an unforced collection of material that nonetheless inhabits a similar space, one where guitars twist like driftwood next to amorphous, aqueous electronics, Lippok’s droll yet completely convincing vocal delivery riding songs that pulse and plume with curious, unpredictable rhythms.

But you can also hear elements – submerged but still present – of other music that’s inspired the duo: they’ve drawn some connections for us with psychedelic folk, Bowie in Berlin, Burial, and the film music of Popol Vuh and Krzysztof Komeda. This music shares a strong sense of place – whether in the world, or the mind – and the twelve songs on »Nuts of Ay« have such similar presence; a shared mood, a shared world, a shared sense of the possibilities of what electronic pop music could, and should, be. A bold and brave pop experiment.

Artwork by Carsten Nicolai
Mastering by Bo Kondren, Calyx Berlin

»Trapdoor Spider«, »On Waves and Years« & »Breaking Day«: lyrics by Milner Place
»All Nuns«: lyrics by Derek Jarman
»USA«: lyrics by Shane MacGowan
»Down Comes the Goose«: lyrics from a traditional song
»Forever Blowing Bubbles«: lyrics by Jaan Kenbrovin
»Everybody Had a Hard Year«: lyrics by John Lennon

None of Scattersun’s principal collaborators could easily meet in person. When Fax Gang and Parannoul began work on the album in 2023, they encouraged themselves to throw all caution to the wind with regard to genre and sound palette, ultimately weaving together intense strains of blown-out electronica that pull on a whole manner of stylistic threads, from two-step beats, to flashes of breakcore, cloud rap passages, and pop serenity. Jarring turns that lead to booming, emotional climaxes form the animating logic behind Scattersun. Album opener “Quiet” lulls listeners into a false sense of security before the breakdown tells them do not pay any heed to your expectations as it dismantles itself before exploding into a climax the artists describe as a spirit bomb. Such crescendos and dime-turns are all over Scattersun, defining characteristics which, in their scattered unpredictability, always culminate in enrapturing, playful mimicry of human nature.

The dark lord of the dance returns to Sneaker with the 'No Favours' EP, another ominous set of non-conformist shellers rough-cut from obsidian and set in steel.

We first broadcast our love of Christoph de Babalon's distinctively destructive, hard-boiled hardcore via the Evident Ware compilation back in 2020, but a longer release has been an ambition of ours ever since. From his early years on Digital Hardcore through his prolific return in the 2010s across a broad tapestry of underground operators, de Babalon has left a fascinating trail of albums, EPs and scattershot tracks behind him that feed into the cult fervour around his music.

As this EP demonstrates in reliably gritty fashion, the magic in the German producer's music lies in his ability to take the tropes of jungle and hardcore and subvert them through signal chains which owe more to noise and industrial than dance music. The structure of his tracks is equally maverick, pushing and pulling according to its own whims rather than following the dancer-centric energetic flow of a standard club record. Somewhere in this alchemy between classic ingredients and confrontational experimentation, he evokes the original chaotic spirit of hardcore when it seemed anything was possible within the music.

'For Nothing' is the perfect example — a tunnelling odyssey of ferrous atmospheres, roundhouse drums and bass bloated into the red on a force-fed diet of saturation. 'Total Deceit' turns up the pressure on the break chopping science de Babalon is capable of, teasing gamelan flurries and elegiac swirls that hit at the emotional depth he can wrench amidst such bludgeoning material. 'Jaded Memory' funnels Mentasm bass into a strange new form amidst staggering, tightly clipped drumfunk, leaving enough space for haunting ballroom reveries stretching out across the mid-section. That leaves it to 'Dearth Mill' to mop up with gloriously creepy detuned piano notes slopping over each other in between the most ferocious blasts of drums on the whole record.

You didn't expect something straight-forward, did you?

Through emotive ambient textures, granular synths, and field recordings, rousay reimagines the Slovak animated fairy tale with a brand-new score. The Bloody Lady stands as a stunning masterpiece of Slovak animation.

A release show is scheduled in De Minard (Ghent, Belgium) on November 13.



Electroacoustic composer claire rousay (US) has announced her upcoming album, ‘The Bloody Lady’, featuring the reimagined score she wrote for Viktor Kubal's 1980 eponymous animated film. Kubal (1923-1997), a pioneering Slovak animator, is considered one of the most influential animation filmmakers of the 20th century.



Known as a singular artist who challenges conventions in experimental and ambient music forms, rousay crafted the score in her home studio immediately after moving to LA over the course of 2023.



The inaugural performance, a screening of the film accompanied by rousay performing the score live, took place at Videodroom / Film Fest Gent 2023 in Ghent, Belgium. The project has since been developed into an 11-track album with alternating themes that evoke the film’s atmosphere while standing on its own as a distinct sonic work.



‘The Bloody Lady’ is set to be released on November 8 via VIERNULVIER Records, the label known for its audiovisual collaborations with artists like Miaux, Hieroglyphic Being, and Mattias De Craene.



The record comes with an extensive booklet including liner notes.

qebrus (pronounced Ké-brusse) was a project by Thomas Denis, an enigmatic French musician and producer born in 1981 and based in Caen, France, before his untimely passing in February of 2018. His undefinable otherworldly compositions and internet glitch trickery turned many heads catching the attention and support of esteemed artists such as Aphex Twin, Four Tet and Venetian Snares. The appeal of his music to other forward-pushing producers was emblematic of the uniqueness of his productions and led to collaborations with the likes of Tom Middleton, Otto Von Schirach and Mr Bill. His only release on Love Love Records, 'ᐔ ᐌ ᐂ ᐍ ᐚ', proved to be one his furthest reaching, originally released on CD during a flurry of musical productivity during 2017. Those 6 tracks of intricate extraterrestrial electronics now get the vinyl treatment, having been lovingly remastered or this reissue and pressed on green coloured wax.

The qebrus guise was that of an alien stranded on Earth and this concept was consistent throughout. The project gained notoriety almost exclusively on the internet, with many people's first experiences of his persona coming from the use of chaotic ASCII syntax in track titles which at the time 'broke' many of the websites he used to host his music. This theme of incomprehensibility extended to the sonic qualities of his music, foregoing any shred of familiar sounds in favour of an entirely electronically synthesised sound palate resulting in jarring and frenetic works full of near-imperceptible micro-details.

qebrus rarely performed live with one of the few occurrences being at an after-party following the now legendary Day For Night Festival 2016 in Austin, Texas where Aphex Twin played some of Qebrus' music to a crowd of 20,000 as Thomas watched on in what was undoubtedly an otherworldly experience for him.

Despite his vision being entirely self-driven without a care for popularity or recognition, there were many people across the globe that connected with the sheer weirdness of it all. 7 years on 'ᐔ ᐌ ᐂ ᐍ ᐚ' still sounds wholly futuristic and will likely remain so for centuries to come. In a time where it seems everything has already been done before Thomas leaves behind a legacy of an artist who was truly 'doing their own thing'.

Thomas is survived by his two children who will be receiving his proceeds from sales of this release.

“really alien sounding music”
Aphex Twin —

“Did you know that guy, Qebrus? He was on his own shit, he was making some really out there music, his music was incredible”
Venetian Snares —

“Listening to intelligent dance music producer Qebrus feels a lot like entering another dimension, his music stumbling its way through electronic chaos, leaving the listener unsure over what just happened.”
Thomas Hobbs — Crack Magazine

Continuing our quest to get all of the classic early AMT albums released on vinyl, we turn to 2004’s 'Mantra Of Love’, and with the help of Makoto Kawabata’s studio wizardry, we’ve made it possible.

This latest instalment in the ‘Acid Mothers Temple Vinyl Archives - First Time On Vinyl’ series (as with the three previous SOLD OUT releases in the series) have all been meticulously put together with the help of Makoto Kawabata with the original CD artwork recreated for these vinyl editions from archive photos stored in the vaults at the Acid Mothers Temple in Osaka, Japan and the original audio remastered by James Plotkin.

Here’s what others had to say upon it’s original CD only release back in 2004 …

“Acid Mothers are strong folk. You'd think they'd tire quickly, all tucked away on their island, strewn about on tree roots while baking their lungs and throats to a knotty green tinge. But instead of waltzing through life like hippies, they manage to not only tour and put out records every year, but also to fill those albums with 30-minute jams and assorted freakouts. And while evil jam bands would fill that space with guitar work taken from the Classic Rock Manual of Clichés, Makoto Kawabata and company assault listeners with frighteningly dense walls of white noise, psychedelic swirl effects and, yes, even guitar solos-- albeit ones that are more Merzbow or Keiji Haino than Gary Rossington. Truly, AMT's endurance and threshold for cosmic lashings are both worthy of admiration.

But how much AMT can you take in one sitting? If there's anything this band has taught us-- via records such as 2002's Electric Heavyland and the ferocious Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso U.F.O-- it's that they're not afraid to reach for the upper regions of consciousness. On Mantra of Love, they offer two titles over the course of one hour, never faltering along the way, and it's as if we listeners are just brief visitors passing through a never-ending, spontaneous group trip. For all I know, Kawabata has hundreds of hours of this stuff on his hard drive-- at any single moment, this record's sheer volume of sound is a clamor to behold. However, if you aren't dialed into that the particular space AMT inhabits (for me, it's the mystical fire-baptism standby), you might not hear their glorious noise for all the, well, glorious noise.

"La Le Lo" begins as a lengthy psychedelic ballad sung by Cotton Casino (who doubles on "beer & cigarettes"), who is accompanied by her own ghostly backing vocals. The band is playing a mantra as Casino waxes earth-mother stylings to the moon. The serenity is broken by a patented AMT rave led by Kawabata's electric sitar (!) solo. Ace rhythm section Tsuyama Atsushi ("monster bass") and Koizumi Hajime hold things together, as does the generally decent recording quality (not a given for these guys), but the real money is in effects-- lots and lots effects. Much like France's Richard Pinhas or AMT's countrymen in Les Rallizes Denudes and High Rise, the band understands the collaborative power of solo + overdriven Moog sirens and screams. And, also like those artists, Acid Mothers can go on all night if need be. About 25 minutes into this piece, any hell that hadn't already broken loose gets its due, and the band speeds to a fiery climax before winding down into glimmering astro-ambience.

The second track, "L'Ambition dans le Miroir", also begins as a minor ballad featuring Casino's haunting solo vocal. The Mothers set her up with a faux-blues drag and a thick buffer of synth-rays; when Casino actually enters, she fights for airtime with an array of falling stars and cosmic dust. However, this time there is no overwhelming solo to power the comedown. Casino intermittently coos in the background while droning horns keep the auxiliary pixie haze from evaporating. As they showed on In C and La Novia, AMT are more than adept at creating calmer storms-- listeners just have to catch them in the right light. Mantra of Love doesn't necessarily capture the most inspired moments in their canon but as usual with this band's records, it's rarely at a loss for moments of horror or grandeur.”

Acid Mothers Temple & The Melting Paraiso U.F.O. : Cotton Casino - Vocal, Beer & Cigarettes - Tsuyama Atsushi - Monster Bass, Vocal, Cosmic Joker - Higashi Hiroshi - Synthesizer, Dancin' King - Koizumi Hajime - Drums, Percussion, Sleeping Monk - Kawabata Makoto - Guitar, Bouzouki, Electric Sitar, Violin, Hammond Organ, Speed Guru

Stars align and Oli Heffernan brings his ever-(d)evolving Ivan The Tolerable to Riot Season for two LPs of sublime entropic drift.
Having this time recruited Christian Alderson (The Unit Ama) on drums, John Pope (Ponyland) on double bass, Kevin Nickles (Ecstatic Vision) on flute and saxophone and Ben Hopkinson on electric piano - both works were recorded as a quintet almost instantaneously, the players barely brushing or breathing a note before the whole thing was done.

The first LP, Vertigo, is all claustrophobic, dense and disorientating - like Sun Ra sitting in with Exploding Star Orchestra
Whereas the second LP, Water Music, is the music of lapping waves, becalmed, creaking hulls, circling birds and gentle winds. - Equal parts Laraaji and Natural Information Society
Bob Fischer (Electronic Sound Magazine) on ‘Water Music’
"A summer's afternoon daydream of an album. Beautifully soothing psychedelic jazz overflowing with raga delights...immerse yourself in its charms"

John Hubner (Complex Distractions) on ‘Vertigo’
“An expansive collection of free-flowing sound and mood bringing to mind Coltrane (John and Alice) as well as the great Albert Aylor, while touching on the forward thinking compositions of Rob Mazurek's Exploding Star Orchestra. From the titanic soundscape of "New Worlds On Earth" to the Marc Moulin touches of "Liquid Voices" and the mysterious eccentricities of "Swimming", 'Vertigo' hangs in the air long after the final note plays.”

Hitting their tenth release, Heels & Souls Recordings journey to South Africa reissuing Hot Slot Machine’s pioneering and sought after self-titled album from 1992. Cultivating a sound and vibe that took South Africa by storm in the early '90s, the six track LP took influence from the genres that drifted over the Atlantic from the US and UK. From house and R&B, through to soul, hip-hop and reggae - creating a rhythm-driven, bass-heavy blend of them all, repackaged with a township flavour.

Known to many as Joe Nina, Makhosini Henry Xaba’s early forays into production would help lay the foundation for the infectious, groove-laden genre that would go on to be labelled as kwaito. With two albums already under his belt as T. McCool and King Rap, aged just 16 Makhosini wrote and produced Hot Slot Machine with the help of Gerdes Chessman - an LP that was far beyond both its time and his youthful years.

Striving to imitate the heavy house sounds inbound from the UK and America, artists like Blackbox and Ten City became big influences. Hot Slot Machine radiates with those impressions, providing something unique in South Africa in the early ‘90s. Leaning more into house and hip hop than the disco-flavoured bubblegum rhythms, the tracks were richer in sound, heavier on the synths and powered by rattling basslines.

Undeniably infectious and unquestionably well put together, the album contains six hits and no misses. With the chunky hip house grooves of ‘Rhythm’, ‘Unchain My Heart’ and ‘Shake Ya Down’, running side by side with the low slung, magnetic bounce of ‘Lookin’ Mix’, ‘I’ll Be Ready’ and ‘Lovin’ Mix’.

Sadly the tapes were long lost, so the wizards Sean P and Justin Drake ripped and restored the album, with Justin giving it a well-deserved remaster. Licensed from Gallo with the blessing of Makhosini, this truly must-have LP now comes complete with a printed inner sleeve housing liner notes and never-before-seen photography.

Original copies changing hands for £50+ on Discogs. Remastered and reissued for the first time since 1992!

Experience the soulful and funky gospel sounds of the Howard Lemon Singers with the reissue of their 1977 album, Seasons, originally released by TK Records' Gospel sub-label Gospel Roots. Now reissued on vinyl for the first time through Regrooved Records, this album masterfully blends traditional gospel with modern soul elements, showcasing the Howard Lemon Singers at their most dynamic and inspirational.

Featuring rich vocal harmonies and uplifting messages, Seasons invites listeners on a spiritual journey through life's varying stages, emphasizing renewal, celebration, and introspection. Among the standout tracks is "You Are Somebody," a powerful anthem that resonates deeply with its message of affirmation and empowerment. The vinyl reissue preserves the original essence of the album, enhancing the audio quality to highlight the depth and warmth of the studio recordings.

Perfect for both avid gospel enthusiasts and newcomers, this reissue of Seasons by The Howard Lemon Singers is not just a record—it's a celebration of faith, resilience, and the human spirit. Add this pivotal piece of gospel heritage to your collection and let the timeless beauty of their music inspire you throughout the seasons of your life.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

On his latest full-length, Low End Activist swerves towards weightless grime and suspended hardcore miniatures to tell a very personal story. The UK-rooted producer continues his habit of zeroing in on a distinct approach for each release, leaving a logical breadcrumb trail of soundsystem science in his wake as he channels decades of bass absorption into 14 atmospheric cuts that prize patience and precision over obvious club functionality.

Municipal Dreams plays out as a semi-autobiographical tour through the Blackbird Leys estate that the Activist grew up on. It’s a lived reflection on inequality and the ripple effect it has in working class communities, using the sonic palette to set the mood and scattering pointed samples throughout to spell out the story.

In sampling the exhaust of a stolen Subaru Impreza, ‘TWOC’ looks back to the recreational car theft which was standard entertainment for the kids in his community. There’s an underlying idea that this ‘council estate sport’ wouldn’t have been so prevalent if there were public services and opportunities presented to the scores of disaffected youth looking for somewhere to direct their energy and frustration.

In ‘Just A Number (Institutionalised)’ LEA alludes to the shattered juvenile detention system, growing up seeing friends and family members locked up at ease with little to no support on being released back into society, just meant that the same cycles of behaviour would play out over and over.

‘Violence’ samples from a short film shot by the drama division of the Blackbird Leys Youth Club to evoke the physical threat which formed a background hum to life on the estate. The industrial mechanics of the local car factory, which served an integral role as a workplace for many in the community, gets sampled in ‘They Only Come Out At Night’ while the ‘Everyone I look up to are either junkies or criminals’ sample in ‘Broke’ looks to a lack of positive role models.

Municipal Dreams isn’t a one-note indictment of life on the estate, ‘Innocence’ captures the simplicity of a child at birth before their environment has time to shape them. The Hope interludes cut through the grim honesty of the longer tracks while a subtle thread of wry humour finds its way into some of the talking heads cutting through the signature LEA murk.

But honesty is the operative word here, and the message feels all the more meaningful at a time when the UK’s social divisions are laid bare in the wake of a devastating stretch of austerity. Returning to Blackbird Leys to shoot images for the photo-zine and album cover, the Activist found the local community centre being demolished. The local pub stands derelict, its faded Welcome sign a grimly ironic portent of the options facing children of the estate in the wider world.

Funnelling his memories, hopes and fears into a singular twist on the bass weight tradition, LEA captures evocative scenes that land somewhere between kitchen sink realism and rave futurism.

Indignation Meeting are punky rail fans from Leeds. 15-year-old Peter is the driver - he's the drummer and lead singer, writes most of the songs, and also plays bass and trumpet on the album. The rest of the crew is his dad Michael on guitar, Hugo on bass, and with Keith, Heather and Sally often along for the ride when they play out. Here at DGHQ we loved listening to their self-released debut album Trouble In The Shed so much we eventually released it on vinyl for the first time. They now have a second album! Vocalist/drummer Peter very kindly talks us through the (train) tracks_ * "The Trainspotting Song" - Now, as a train geek, I go out filming trains an awful lot, and one thing you can't help noticing whilst out in the wilds of Staffordshire or the moors of Lancashire are a whole load of unnecessary 'Private Land' signs. This song is my response_ * "The Talyllyn Railway" - The history of the Talyllyn Railway is a fascinating one that I've long since wanted to explore, due to its unique nature as the first railway to ever be taken over by volunteers. This is the result! * "The Middleton Railway" - As a volunteer at the Middleton Railway, I had felt that a song needed to be written for quite a while. However, our guitarist Michael, ended up beating me to it! * "A Model World" - It was late one night, and I was lying on my sofa, trying my hardest to gain an ounce of enjoyment from 'Hornby; A Model World.' It was proving quite hard, due to the alarming lack of substance in the programme, so instead I decided that its name was rather good, and could be the basis of a song explaining my 'model world.' And, well, here it is! * "The Fifth Black Five" - This song is dedicated to the railway preservationists of old, who spent countless hours in cold, damp, dreary sidings, all to make sure us future generations would be able to enjoy the smell of a steam train. Thanks guys! * "Case Study" - This song is a commentary on the sensationalisation of disasters, when there's a massive tragedy and people at home just sit in their comfy sofas, watching the news and drinking tea. We know what's going on, but we can just choose to turn off the TV and forget it ever happened and continue with our lives. It also relates to the dehumanisation of those disasters you experience in school, where you have to write essays on someone who's just become homeless. It seems quite heartless sometimes_ * "Loco Motives" - This song is a fictional story of a man's personal struggle with a railway company, and the drastic measures he took to fix them_ * "That Would Never Suit His Grace" - With model railways, you always seem to get a few people who can never be satisfied with a layout or a model - no matter how hard someone's tried, there's always something to improve on, and they're never nice about it either. This song is a reality check for them_ * "Small Black Shunter" - This is our second homage to Zounds - Electrification would never be truly complete without its B-side. And this B-side is the story of a little loco who wanted to see the world. * "Rhydyronen" - Slowly but surely, we're going to pick off all of the stations on the Talyllyn Railway. Starting where Abergynolwyn left off, this is the story of our second favourite station on the TR. * "Typically English Day" - This is an homage to Mark Astronaut, a true punk genius who was gone before his time. Although there were many songs we could've picked to cover, it only seemed right to punk up one of his most popular tracks, and one of the main ones that got me into the Astronauts in the first place - Typically English Day, a heart-wrenching tale of an elderly couple trapped in the middle of a nuclear war, following their last moments before their inevitable demise. * "Just For The Record" - There is too much misinformation in the media these days, and one case I found particularly egregious was the gross misrepresentation of the strikers, who aren't so evil as the media want you to believe_

Music from Skalpel's iconic debut for Ninja Tune, reinterpreted by top Polish producers! 

Poland's ambassadors of jazz-inspired electronics invited outstanding local producers of downtempo, dance music, hip-hop, and jazz to remix this album. The result is "Recut," the best remix album in the history of Polish phonography. A record every bit as worthy as the historic original. It’s an extraordinary tale of the past and present of Polish electronic music.


This year marks the 20th anniversary of the release of Skalpel’s debut album, which was released by the famous British label Ninja Tune in 2004. The Polish duo, Marcin Cichy and Igor Pudło, gained international acclaim by venturing into the then lesser-known territory of Eastern European jazz, updating it with electronic tools.
Pitchfork praised the album enthusiastically: „On these tracks, Skalpel smudge the line between organic and electronic effortlessly, like a landscape artist working with charcoal, creating deep nuances of light and shadow that give the work its overall depth. (…)Its rhythmic dexterity and melodic sweep are hard to deny” -
The prestigious The Wire added: "Jazz, breaks, scat shuffles and funky riffs? of the highest standard. This release deserves to see them revered far beyond Poland"

Today, looking back over two decades, this album can be confidently considered a milestone in Polish electronica and a timeless classic of downtempo, nu-jazz, and trip-hop. Thanks to this record, the band also gained worldwide recognition, and their subsequent consistently high-quality albums like "Highlight" and "Origins" continue to attract significant interest.
Skalpel’s debut with Ninja Tune undoubtedly changed the face of Polish music, redefined the perception of the Polish jazz canon, and paved the way for younger creators. "Many of them, on 'Recut,' pay tribute to the enduring legacy of Marcin Cichy and Igor Pudło.
Artists like Magiera, Emade, 1988, Kixnare, Steez, Latarnik, Envee, Pejzaż, Etnobotanika, and others are now recognized names and respected figures in the Polish music scene. Though each of the artists invited by the Wrocław duo has developed their own original style, they find common roots in the duo’s music, on the border between jazz groove, hip-hop ease, downtempo moodiness, or ambient.
The excellent interpretations showcase the incredible potential revealed by Skalpel’s debut material, which continues to inspire new discoveries. This is a record that does not age, still captivates, and continues to inspire and provoke new interpretations.


Let’s RECUT this!!

I want nothing more than to be a loner,” Emily Kempf sings early on Flower of Devotion, the new album by Chicago trio Dehd. It’s a startling admission coming from a songwriter who, just a year ago on Dehd’s critically acclaimed Water, wrote eloquently about the joys and pains — more than anything, the necessity — of love, compassion, and companionship. But then, “admission” isn’t really the right word here, given the stridency of Kempf’s tone. “Loner” is a declaration.

The record ups the ante on Dehd’s sound & filters in just enough polish to bring out the shining and melancholy undertones in Jason Balla and Emily Kempf’s songwriting, even as it captures them at their most strident. Balla’s guitar lines at times flirt with ticklish cosmic country, while at others they reflect the dark marble sounds of Broadcast. Kempf, meanwhile, establishes herself as a singer of incredible expressive range, pinching into a high lonesome wail, letting loose a chirping “ooh!,” pushing her voice below its breaking point and letting it swing down there. When she and Balla bounce descending counter-melodies off one another over McGrady’s one-two thumps, or skitter off over a programmed drum pad, they sound like The B-52s shaking off heartache.

Aussie techno innovator Alpharisc returns to Mutual Rytm for a second standout EP.

Shane Yates, aka Alpharisc, has been living and breathing techno for over 30 years. He first began producing in the mid-90s and has amassed a fine hardware collection that lends his sounds a raw, rugged feel. After breaking through with the Wetmusik party and label collective, he has let his music do the talking and isn't afraid of colouring it with a hint of nostalgia. Previous material has come via several notable labels over the years, but his most recent outings have been on SHDW's Mutual Rytm imprint, with his solo EP 'Ram Face' from 2023 becoming an underground favourite alongside a fine outing as part of the label's 'Federation Of Rytm II' and 'Federation Of Rytm III' compilations. Once again, he returns in style, uncovering an impactful selection of gems across his new 'Remain Seated' EP.

The opener 'Peace Be With You' is a straight-up techno weapon with urgent synth flashes peeling off the groove like a police siren. The drums hit hard in true Alpharisc style before 'Hail' builds on that with a more hard-edge groove topped with frosty waves of white noise that electrify the dance floor. 'Remain Seated' brings a hint of trance-leaning energy with its bright sheets of synth lighting up the driving drums and saw-tooth bass loops. Next, 'Look At This' is another brilliantly forceful techno sound with slamming drums and rusty synth loops, layering melancholic pads up top and adding a cerebral edge, while closer 'In Your Mind' is from the Jeff Mills school of synth-laced and serene deep techno with lush pads radiating cosmic light. As a bonus, digital-only cut 'Expedition' brings some backlit celestial synth work to a rubbery and pummelling drum pattern for pure techno escapism.

Ava Mendoza has never made an album quite as personal as her second solo full-length, The Circular Train. Through her decades of collaborations with Nels Cline, Carla Bozulich, William Parker, Fred Frith, Matana Roberts, and Mick Barr—plus years leading her power trio Unnatural Ways and playing in Bill Orcutt’s quartet—the guitarist’s name has become synonymous with virtuoso technique, raw passion, and visceral resonance, a player pushing the edges of the guitar’s possibilities. Along the way, from 2007 to 2023, Mendoza was writing these slow-burning, incandescent songs. The Circular Train is comprised solely of her single-tracked guitar playing and, on two songs, her corporeal singing. Her first solo LP of original material since relocating from California to New York City a decade ago, much of The Circular Train was honed amid pandemic years that clarified the virtues of slowing down. This expressive avant-rock is a definitive introduction to one of the most uncompromising and inquisitive visions in creative music. Mendoza’s thrilling melange of free jazz, blues, noise, classical training, and blazing experimental rock’n’roll all coheres with ecstatic feedback, with picking and solos that crest with shimmer. Sometimes she sounds like a one-woman Sonic Youth with guttural and poised vocals that equally evoke Patti Smith and blues greats like Jessie Mae Hemphill. Conceptually, The Circular Train is presented as a psychogeographical train ride through certain of Mendoza’s musical homelands. The songs draw on ancestral and recent familial memories, notably of her parents’ roots in mining towns—in her father’s home country of Bolivia and mother’s hometown of Butte, Montana, each country with its own history of colonialism, racism, forced labor, the eradication of culture and the subsequent excavation of it. These adventurous songs were composed in cars and planes, in the heart of the Mississippi Delta, in Los Angeles and upstate New York—which is to say in motion. “Ride to Cerro Rico,” named for the mountain and silver mine at the center of Potosi, Bolivia, was inspired by Mendoza’s great grandmother’s life there in a Quechua mining family. “Dust From the Mines” drew from that history as well as Mendoza’s familial lineage of miners in Montana, building up to stunning swaths of shredded iridescence. “Pink River Dolphins” was inspired by a visit to the Amazon rainforest, swimming with dolphins alongside her father—the pink bufeos that inhabit both Bolivia and Columbia—and the song is dedicated to the memory of Mendoza’s late friend, the Colombian-American trumpeter jaimie branch. They shared a fascination with those intelligent and agile creatures who often communicate by echolocation. “Make a sound, it comes back around,” Mendoza sings, and later, “Echo, echo/The answer in a sound,” evoking what branch knew well: through music we navigate life. The Circular Train contains one cover, “Irene, Goodnight,” composed by Gussie Lord Davis and popularized by Leadbelly; Mendoza has been performing it for over 20 years. Almost as deeply embedded in her repertoire is the penultimate track, “The Shadow Song.” “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you good,” Mendoza sings on this song that she’s been reworking for over a decade, an emblem of devotion. “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you right,” she repeats, becoming a blues mantra. What is a shadow self if not one’s secret world, which, once laid bare, awaits an echo, a return?

12” paddling pool blue vinyl, is an edition of 500. CD Digifile. Following the runaway success of their critically acclaimed 2021 second album Contender, the question for fast-rising London four-piece Fightmilk was always going to be “what next?” With a tight indie-pop sound that defined their early recordings, the answer was obvious to a band who seem hellbent on the notion of evolve or die… The band originally formed in 2015 in a Brixton pub garden by Lily and Alex, who had both, separately, just been dumped and thought being in an angry punk band would cheer them up. Then they found Nick and Healey to hold the rhythm down and make them sound good. With three albums under their belt, they’ve perfected their chaotic, melodic brand of joy and rage-filled pop with full-throated yelling and sparkling guitar riffs as their trademark. They’ve graduated from angsty whippersnappers in their mid-twenties to overgrown teenage 30-somethings with mild ongoing back and shoulder pain. Their previous 2 albums Not With That Attitude (2018) & Contender (2021) marked them out as an ambitious and rising prospect, and now on their forthcoming new album No Souvenirs the band eschew their former Britpop ties and edge further into DIY punk and heavier rock influences to reveal a leaner, meaner, more abrasive side to their cathartic lo-fi anthems. Whilst collectively diving into their passion for Jimmy Eat World, frontwoman Lily Rae made a conscious decision to strengthen her “big loud yell” with influence from Alicia Bognanno (Bully), Nat Foster (Press Club), and Missy Dabice (Mannequin Pussy). “My voice is the biggest it’s ever been and I’m constantly thrilled when people are surprised at how loud I am, considering I’m so small in stature,” she grins. “Lyrically I always look to Bruce Springsteen for inspiration but I also really enjoyed the angsty candour of Sour by Olivia Rodrigo, and Kacey Musgraves’ impeccable one-liners.” There are a few genre experiments on the record—Yo La Tengo in ‘Paddling Pool’, ‘Canines’ is part The Strokes and part Neu!, and ‘Back From Tour’ was heavily influenced by long term friends Johnny Foreigner. “You could probably make a case for ‘Inferno’ having a bit of Counting Crows to it, but we were never writing to emulate,” explains guitarist Alex. “The references and touchstones just happened along the way. As far as we’re concerned, they just sound like Fightmilk - and that’s a really nice place to be nearly a decade in.” “That said, we’ve also been REALLY picky with the songs that made it onto the album - there’s probably an-other album’s worth of songs that didn’t feel right, even if we loved them. We got really good at finding the “magic thing” in each song that made it work.” Spilling over with candid lyrics about death, doomed love, and dog bites, framed by endless punk energy and the kind of full-throated riff-rock that sounds just at home in a giant stadium as it does in a sticky-floored toilet bar, No Souvenirs is a triumphant return from the band, who are equally enthused by the album. “I only realised after we put the songs together how personal to me this album was,” explains Lily. “Not just because I’m writing about extremely specific sitcom episodes in my life (getting fired from bridesmaid duty, being bitten on the arse by a dog, being relentlessly asked when I’m going to have kids), but because whilst we were making it, I turned 30. It’s a significant age for women, especially in music, because aside from being something called a ‘geriatric millennial’, there’s an unspoken rule that there’s a cut-off point for you to have ‘made it’ and after that you have to settle down and be normal.” For Lily, writing for the album also aligned with the 10th anniversary of the death of a close friend, with the resulting track ‘No Souvenirs’ lending its title to the album as a whole. “It had taken me that long to write about it in a way I felt ok with. But I realised that I couldn’t have written it before,” she explains. “I needed that distance, and that maturity, to be able to articulate those feelings. It feels to me now like the album is about scorched earth, moving on, taking nothing with you for the next ‘thing’ - and realising that getting older is a privilege.” Bringing a huge amount of energy and joy with them whenever and wherever they hit a stage, interacting with the audience is a vital part of the Fightmilk live experience. “Without people singing and dancing at us we wouldn’t have gigs at all, so we want everyone to get involved!” says Lily of the band’s future tour plans

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

~~~From Mississippi and Olvido Records~~~~~~ Steel-string guitar and vocals by the great Giorgos Katsaros, a mythic figure of Greek rembetiko. Our obsession with underground Greek music continues with 10 ultra-rare recordings of heartbreak and vice from rembetiko legend Giorgos Katsaros. Katsaros, who by some accounts lived to be over 100 years old, carried the old songs of Greece to the Diaspora in the United States, bridging centuries of music in one storied lifetime. Born in 1901 on the Greek island of Amorgos, Katsaros' was enchanted with the songs he picked up as a kid in the streets of Piraeus and Athens. Encouraged by his grandfather, an amateur singer, Katsaros developed a style that mirrored his upbringing - centuries-old Asia Minor songs, island rhythms of his homeland, well-known Athenian songs of the time, and anonymous `rebetiko' songs. Katsaros' songbook was vast, but he was most drawn to the street life and music of the manges of early 20th-century Greece: outcasts who dealt with the indignities of an unstable economy and an inauspicious future with the old standbys: wine, hash, and dancing. These ten tracks are remastered from Katsaros's 64 surviving early recordings, many rarely heard since their original release. Hypnotic melodies plucked over repeating thumbed basslines back his deep, mournful voice. Katsaros brought this nostalgic late-night music to smoke-filled rooms of Greek exiles in Chicago, Philly, and New York, where he emigrated in 1917. He continued to travel the country and play until his music was supplanted by more modern styles in the 1950s. He retired to the town of Tarpon Springs, FL, famous for its Greek sponge fishers, til a late-in-life revival brought him back to Greece for a few massive concerts and national accolades in the 1990s. Like many great artists, Katsaros carefully curated his own mythic backstory over the decades. He sometimes claimed he was born in 1888, making him 109 on his passing, and conflicting accounts of his birth and travels circulate to this day. Greek researchers Stavros Kourousis and Konstantinos Kopanitsanos, who also compiled these tracks, contribute groundbreaking new historical research on Katsaros' life. Lyrics, poetically translated by Tony Klein, further fill in the picture. Clean and rare 78s were remastered by Stereophonic. Katsaros has never sounded better than on this LP, pressed on heavy black vinyl, with extensive notes and lyrics.