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UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

Bristol's Tara Clerkin Trio return to World of Echo and the EP format for a five song collection of quixotic, emotional redolence. But do not mistake their absence for inertia. If their musical output has been a little sparse during those in-between years, limited to a few solo ventures and an astonishing ten minute long piece as a trio, their time has otherwise been richly spent: continuous writing and recording, extensive live performances across Europe and Japan, a cultivation of local and more far-flung artistic connections (musical and otherwise), and a monthly NTS show that, through the voice of others, speaks most obviously to their own unorthodox interests. It's the conflux of that winding activity that leads indirectly to On The Turning Ground, 26 minutes of probing, thoughtful composition that draws from no one specific source. Their inspirations might be centreless, but the trio still possess a very obvious anchor in the form of their hometown. Bristol stands as a city of multitudes, heterogenous and vibrant in such a way as to allow it to renew and remake time and again. Tara Clerkin Trio drink from that same well, duly reflecting a rich musical heritage built on fwd-facing electronic subcultures and experimental urges.

As such, On The Turning Ground finds them subject to their own subtle internal evolution, the pervasive sense that you've caught them mid-bloom, on their way to becoming but never anything but themselves. The two instrumental pieces that bookend the EP stand as a perfect case in point, displaying an increasing mastery of compositional space. Pensive and restrained, 'Brigstow' and 'Once Around' both emanate an interstitial quality that's not so much after- as in-between-hours, miniature dub-folk symphonies held together by the kind of tacit understanding that remains the preserve of only the closest of family units. If those two tracks are shaped by a sense of shifting temporality, then the three vocal-led pieces that comprise the record's core feel like a gentle ossifying of aesthetic into something approaching their own unique form of avant-pop. 'Pop' is, of course, a broadly subjective concept, but there's no avoiding the overt sparkling melodicism of songs like 'Marble Walls' and 'The Turning Ground', undeniable re-directions of that late 90s impulse to bend pop sensibilities into off-centre terrain, to render the familiar new again. This is what Tara Clerkin Trio do, gently pulling the ground from under your feet, turning you to face something you'd not quite seen before. To view the world as they do: sideways, sometimes, all of the time.

the first-ever reissue on studio mule of the debut album by japanese jazz legend and bassist yoshio ikeda.

having performed with such illustrious figures as sadao watanabe, masabumi kikuchi, and terumasa hino, ikeda’s first album as a leader features pianist and vocalist ichiko hashimoto—also known for her involvement with yellow magic orchestra—berlin-based jazz pianist aki takase, and leading japanese drummer motohiko hino.

avant-garde yet imbued with a distinctly japanese sense of melancholy, this is a work that resonates profoundly with the present moment.

the gem “whispering weeds,” highlighted by thrilling piano and hashimoto’s evocative scat vocals, was also included on a compilation by bbe.

remastered from the original master tapes by kuniyuki, the album has been revived with a richer, more lustrous sound in this definitive reissue.

Bristol experimental band SUGAR HORSE are delighted to announce that their third album, Not A Sound In Heaven, will be released on 10th April 2026 via Fat Dracula Records.

To celebrate the news, the band are sharing the bruising lead single ‘Secret Speech’, available to stream on all good digital service providers from 12th February 2026.

Also announced today are a run of April 2026 UK album headline tour dates and an appearance at StrangeForms Festival 2026, with tickets on sale now (see below for full listings).

“We are fortunate enough to live in what is generally known as ‘The West’,” says front man Ash Tubb of the lyrical themes behind the new track. “I say fortunate with gritted teeth, because I know—as I’m sure the reader knows—that living in the West isn’t always rosy. The vast majority of people struggle everyday to feed, clothe and house themselves. Let alone receive adequate healthcare, schooling and workers’ rights.”

“We are, however, where all the world’s wealth is hoarded. We are at the centre of Empire. The people outside of this empire—those of the Global South—have had their resources extracted and their populations exploited by our own governments, with very little given back in return. This won’t go on forever. It will inevitably end, as all great empires do.”

“We in The West have a choice to make in the meantime; either help create a new, fairer world, or let the greed of our ruling classes become the undoing of all of us.”

The first glimpse of new material from the quartet, ‘Secret Speech’ starts as Not A Sound In Heaven means to go on—a politically-charged wrecking ball of a song that smashes its way through the often unbelievable chaos and brutality of the 21st century with vitriolic malice.

How do you capture the machinations of the geo-political industrial war machine—and all the horrors that go with it—in the studio, without seeming trite or crass? That’s the question that Sugar Horse have posed themselves on their forthcoming third album Not A Sound In Heaven, and they must surely be one of the only bands in existence capable of delivering on just that premise with both musical substance and cutting philosophical insight.

“Ever since I was born I can remember visions of war, famine, and death being beamed directly into my living room via the magic of television,” says Tubb of the record. “These visions were accompanied by newsreader narratives designed to either humanise or dehumanise the people involved. We humanise our government’s allies and dehumanise their enemies. This is taken as common sense, or even wisdom to some degree. People watch the news and accept it as fact, simple and true.”

“As a person gets older they move in one of three different directions with this acceptance of reality; They embrace what they’re being told, they fall into a kind of trust free nihilism or they learn that there are deeper narratives at play.”

“Not A Sound In Heaven is an aged acceptance of the latter. An acceptance of sitting at the centre of a global empire of both military and economic dimensions. An acceptance that the stories we’re told as a nation, or what’s generally in the zeitgeist, isn’t necessarily reality itself.”

“How does a person cope with the weight—and, frankly, the guilt—of a society that perpetuates such distinct inequalities? A society that thinks a bit of killing abroad is fine, as long as it improves the lives of people at home. You can see why so many choose to embrace it. Hell, nihilism seems pretty sensible. Once a person decides upon pursuing a degree of truth however, things get a bit depressing. Beyond depressing...maddening.”

“This album explores this kind of breezy, frivolous subject matter in a manner that will no doubt be uplifting to the listener and massively financially rewarding for the artist.”

The new album follows on from their standalone AA single ‘What’s Your ETA? Let’s Have A Tear Up’/‘Would You Like Me To Be The Cat?’ which was released late last year as a surprise double drop.

Marking twenty years since South African producer and DJ Esa Williams left Cape Town, Dala What We Must is a deeply personal and expansive debut LP, an exploration of movement, memory, and sound shaped by two decades of creative evolution.

Co-created with collaborator and multi-instrumentalist Robin G. Breeze, the album deftly combines field recordings, layered instrumentation, and emotionally resonant compositions into a nuanced, globally influenced body of work. It also stands as Esa’s most collaborative release to date, featuring contributions from musicians across London, Oaxaca, Nairobi, and Cape Town, each adding their own creative energy to a project built on openness, trust, and shared experience.

The album draws inspiration from Esa’s recent ventures into documentary scoring and soundtracking, with projects like Cursed (Audible) and The Invisible Hand teaching him to listen differently, to honour space, to serve the story. That sensibility permeates the album, resulting in music that breathes, lingers, and listens as much as it speaks.

The title, Dala What We Must, is a South African call to action: a reminder to do what’s necessary, even in uncertainty. Finalised in the months leading up to Esa’s transition into fatherhood, the record carries a sense of grounding, care, and quiet transformation.

Dala What We Must is a sonic reflection of journey and community, a deeply collaborative project rooted in connection and guided by intention.

Marking twenty years since South African producer and DJ Esa Williams left Cape Town, Dala What We Must is a deeply personal and expansive debut LP, an exploration of movement, memory, and sound shaped by two decades of creative evolution. Co-created with collaborator and multi-instrumentalist Robin G. Breeze, the album deftly combines field recordings, layered instrumentation, and emotionally resonant compositions into a nuanced, globally influenced body of work. It also stands as Esa’s most collaborative release to date, featuring contributions from musicians across London, Oaxaca, Nairobi, and Cape Town, each adding their own creative energy to a project built on openness, trust, and shared experience. The album draws inspiration from Esa’s recent ventures into documentary scoring and soundtracking, with projects like Cursed (Audible) and The Invisible Hand teaching him to listen differently, to honour space, to serve the story. That sensibility permeates the album, resulting in music that breathes, lingers, and listens as much as it speaks.

The title, Dala What We Must, is a South African call to action: a reminder to do what’s necessary, even in uncertainty. Finalised in the months leading up to Esa’s transition into fatherhood, the record carries a sense of grounding, care, and quiet transformation. Dala What We Must is a sonic reflection of journey and community, a deeply collaborative project rooted in connection and guided by intention.

Vivel is Alexander Eldefors’ second release under his own name. Built around eurorack and field recordings, many captured during still moments while traveling to visit family and friends. The album was created during a period of transition. It functions as an anchor in a time of change, representing a sense of home, safety, and stillness.

Alexander Eldefors is a producer, composer, and mixing engineer based in the countryside outside of Stockholm, Sweden. With a background as both a sound engineer and musician, he has spent years recording, mixing and playing in a wide range of bands and solo projects. In 2019, he consciously slowed down and returned to a more intimate and quiet musical expression, leading to the release of his debut album Bergen in 2020 under his own name. Bergen is the Swedish word for mountains and reflects the fact that Alexander grew up in the north of Sweden close to the mountains.

His music is minimalistic, melodic, and embracing, shaped by a deep connection to nature. Natural environments are a constant presence in his work, serving both as inspiration and as a sound source. Alongside this, he is drawn to the raw textures of everyday objects, working with foley sounds and field recordings. His arrangements unfold as organic sound collages, where elements blend freely and imperfections are preserved to maintain a natural, human feel.

First time reissue of JP / US free jazz rarity.

The 1970s were Marion Brown’s most searching decade, a period during which he sought to move beyond the free jazz of the previous era and find more personal approaches to structuring improvisation and composition. After leaving New York for Europe in 1967, Brown began reshaping his music into what he described as “a more deliberate kind of music that had more structure to it,” pacing it so that moods and modes could develop over time. Albums such as In Sommerhausen, Afternoon of a Georgia Faun, Geechee Recollections, and Sweet Earth Flying trace this evolution: rhythmic structures moved to the foreground, harmony receded, and composition became a matter of orchestrating interlocking rhythmic parts as one would polyphonic lines.

Released in 1976, Awofofora is an overlooked but crucial entry in that sequence. At the time, its use of funk and reggae beats, electric guitars, and grooves drawn from contemporary Black popular music led some to misread it as a jazz-rock detour. In retrospect, it is entirely consistent with Brown’s methodology. As he admired in the Art Ensemble of Chicago, the stimulus comes from within the community. Here Brown filters Afro-Caribbean rhythms and funk through his own sensibility, abstracting their structural qualities rather than adopting surface style.

“La Placita,” making its first recorded appearance, layers distinct rhythmic phrases in a manner reminiscent of African drum ensembles, over which Brown and trumpeter Ambrose Jackson spin extended improvisations. The standard “Flamingo” is reshaped through diasporic rhythm and lyrical soloing, while “Pepi’s Tempo” and “Mangoes” harness crisp funk and reggae grooves to generate what Brown called a “manifestation of community” through collective improvisation. Even the overdubbed solo feature “And Then They Danced” reflects his structural thinking, ingeniously re-voicing a duet composition for two alto saxophones performed by one player.

This was the only recording by a short-lived band that briefly polarized audiences during festival appearances in 1976. Yet Brown consistently sought unity across change: different sounds, same principles — rhythm as structure, melody as architecture, collective improvisation, and above all, the primacy of tone. Awofofora stands not as a departure, but as a vivid synthesis of the elements he had been refining since the late 1960s, its grooves and golden alto lines conveying a sound drawn, in his words, “from life and from the world of experience.”

It's 5 AM. The golden hour. That moment suspended on the lips of the night that is leaving us. Where the dance still refuses to die as sweat dries, bodies float and minds drift. Some immerse themselves in the dripping surroundings while others emerge or pretend. Outside, nature reclaims its rights. When the moon sets over Kizipolis, the music doesn't stop: it transforms us.

To celebrate our 10th anniversary, the pillars of the label were invited to compose the track they would play at this precise moment. The one that no longer seeks to prove itself, that accompanies the ebb of shadows, connecting the senses to the light.

Kizipolis Vol.1 is the soundtrack to an imaginary but familiar city, a city where raving is a way of life, where music acts as a climate, where at 5am, anything is still possible.

With Alouette!, Les Louanges attempts to make sense of his human condition and Québécois identity by bringing guitars and Joual (the French language dialect spoken in Québec) to the forefront while still fuelling his signature grooves. More rock-oriented than his previous albums, this third effort is luminous yet rich in sounds, emotion and political commentary. It unfolds through a journey that will lead Loulou to encounter universal experiences such as illness, death, and true love.

The album is also the result of an artistic quest that began during a period of self-reflection, when Vincent Roberge (aka Les Louanges or Loulou) seized the opportunity to take a break after his last extended tour. Alongside the existential questions typical of someone approaching their thirties came a rediscovery of the classics—from Leonard Cohen and Prince to Richard Desjardins and the nursery rhyme that gives the album its name–, followed by total exploration. In addition to playing most of the instruments himself, the singer-songwriter revived obscure Quebec records through sampling and got to experiment with actual sound recording. Roberge co-produced Alouette! with his long-time collaborator Félix Petit (because why change a winning formula).

Four years after the success of his sophomore album Crash, Les Louanges returns more confident than ever, thanks to a renewed cultural and emotional baggage that allows him to reflect on the past to better engage with the present, while also enjoying it to the fullest. All of this, without overlooking the future, which he foresees with hope despite the collective challenges that await us.

2025 Reissue.



Münchenbuchsee, a suburb of Bern, Switzerland. Stephan Eicher is the youngest of three children. His father, a radio and TV repairman, is also a jazz violinist and a sound tinkerer in his spare time. In the family home's converted fallout shelter turned studio, Mr. Eicher experiments with homemade sequencers, tortures handcrafted drum machines, and abuses reel-to-reel tape recorders—all under the fascinated gaze of young Stephan.

The boy quickly develops a musical curiosity, exploring sound through various experiments and wanderings. Alongside his younger brother Martin, Stephan crafts audio plays on a homemade multi-track recorder (essentially several cassette decks hooked together!), which they write, record, add sound effects to, and perform for family and friends. Just a couple of nice kids, really...

Then comes 1972, and Lou Reed's Transformer album changes everything for the Eicher kids. For 13-year-old Stephan, it's a revelation—especially "Vicious", the opening track, which he plays on repeat for months. He convinces his father to buy him an electric guitar. Not stopping there, his father also builds him a tube amp using an old radio.

Then comes adolescence. A rough one. Stephan leaves home at 16 and moves to Zurich. With obvious artistic talent, he persuades his art teacher to help him get into F+F, a radical, alternative art school—despite his young age. Accepted, he starts learning video techniques, determined to become a filmmaker.

At F+F, Stephan organizes Dada-style happenings and concerts with a group of friends known as the Noise Boys. Among them: one of his teachers on bass, Veit Stauffer on drums (who would later found ReR/Recommended Records), his girlfriend Sacha on vocals, and Stephan on guitar. In one of their early performances, they release a remote-controlled mouse covered in dull razor blades into the audience to create panic and chaos. Keeping with this aggressive, confrontational spirit, they once played a concert while wearing headphones blasting Tristan and Isolde, trying to perform their own songs simultaneously—to maximize the cacophony. The goal was always the same: clear the room.

Their “songs,” if you can call them that, followed suit. Take "Hungeriges Afrika", for instance—performed entirely with power drills and some drum feedback.

To make ends meet, Stephan returns to Bern on weekends to work as a waiter at the Spex Club, the city’s main punk venue. On September 16, 1980, during a show by proto-electro group Starter, the police raid the club and arrest everyone. Stephan, who manages to avoid arrest, seizes the opportunity to “borrow” Starter’s gear left behind. He suddenly finds himself in possession of a Roland Promars synth, a Korg MS20, and a gorgeous CR78 drum machine, which he runs through a Big Muff distortion pedal to get that perfect gritty sound.

He then sets out to reinterpret some Noise Boys tracks, reworking them during impromptu sessions recorded on a dictaphone (yes, a dictaphone—now the lo-fi sound makes more sense, doesn’t it?). He ironically titles the resulting cassette "Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys" ("Stephan Eicher plays Noise Boys"). This gem features seven tracks, which are the ones reissued here.

Back in Zurich, he visits his friends Andrew Moore and Robert Vogel, who have a DIY cassette duplication setup. They make 25 copies of Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys for Stephan and his friends. Robert encourages him to visit Urs Steiger of Off Course Records and play him the tape.

Without much hope, Stephan shows up at Urs’s office. But Urs is instantly hooked and suggests releasing a 7” single. Due to space constraints, they reluctantly drop two of the seven tracks ("Hungeriges Afrika" and "One Second"). As for the musical score featured on the cover—it was randomly chosen and remains a mystery to this day. Calling all music theory nerds!

The 7-inch is pressed in 750 copies and released in the first week of December 1980—a date Stephan remembers well, as it’s the same week John Lennon was killed. Smartly, Urs sends a promo copy to François Murner, Switzerland’s answer to John Peel, who hosts a show on alternative station Sounds. Murner falls in love with the record and starts giving it airtime. To Stephan’s surprise, sales follow—and people actually seem interested in his music.

Even this modest underground success scares Stephan a bit. He stops making music for a year and moves to Bologna, where he works as a programmer at Radio Città, a feminist radio station.

Meanwhile, Stephan’s younger brother Martin, who’s also involved in the punk scene, joins the band Glueams as a singer and guitarist. Glueams, named after the fanzine run by two of its members (drummer Marco Repetto and bassist GT), eventually rebrands as Grauzone. Stephan is invited to their shows to project hacked Super 8 visuals live on stage.

Urs Steiger, now working on a compilation titled Swiss Wave – The Album, asks Grauzone to contribute alongside bands like Liliput, Jack and the Rippers, The Sick, and Ladyshave (Fall 1980).

For the album, Martin tasks Stephan with producing their recording sessions. Under Stephan's artistic direction, two tracks emerge: "Raum" and "Eisbär". During "Eisbär", Martin plays a minimalist bass line borrowed from post-punk band The Feelies (just an open string). Drummer Marco Repetto struggles to keep time. Later that evening, unhappy with the takes, Stephan builds a four-bar drum loop from a ¼-inch tape and uses it instead of the flawed original. He then adds bleepy synths and wind sounds to complete the track’s icy vibe before handing it over to Urs.

The Swiss Wave – The Album compilation is released quietly at first, but things snowball thanks to "Eisbär", which eventually becomes a smash hit—selling over 600,000 singles.

Meanwhile, Stephan plays in a rockabilly band called SMUV (named after Switzerland’s social security agency) and begins producing artists, including the debut album of Starter (1981), which includes a more pop-oriented version of "Minijupe".

By early 1982, Stephan starts spending time with the post-punk girl band Liliput (formerly Kleenex). They’re older than him, and he happily drives them around in his Renault Major, acting as their roadie.

By 1983, Grauzone—signed to the major label EMI, which turned out to be a misstep—is falling apart. Stephan begins to pivot toward a more mainstream pop sound with his debut solo album Les Chansons Bleues.

But that... is already another story.

Xylitol, aka producer and DJ Catherine Backhouse, shifts up the refinement and musical breadth for her second album Blumenfantasie, the follow-up to her Planet Mu debut Anemones.
With Blumenfantasie, Xylitol wanted “to make space and for the music to float and propel at once”, finding routes through the pointillistic figures, cascading synths and the meditative stillness of kosmische musik and bolder breakbeat programming. She reaches this delicate balance through careful subtraction, hoping “to convey a sense of intimacy and sadness but without sentimentality” which she manages with a feel and sound that's raw and intuitive.

Blumenfantasie rolls through detailed jungle workouts that flutter and bleep, through beatless ambience, taking a rare dip below 160 bpm for the elegiac Mirjana, the album’s most explicit nod to Krautrock with a drum break chopped up from Amon Duul II’s anthemic ‘Archangel’s Thunderbird’, through to Halo, a bare bones grime rhythm that calls to mind the missing link between industrial pioneers Nurse With Wound and Wiley's Eskibeat.

Catherine cast her net to draw in experimental audiovisual duo Sculpture and Reading based post-rock band The Leaf Library as collaborators, pulling the former’s whirling eddies of musique concrète into a slice of sublime aquatic jungle, and the latter’s radiophonic folksong into a dark and disorientating breakbeat workout equally indebted to Source Direct as to Broadcast.
Blumenfantasie moves with a confident, self-effacing fluidity which has been informed by DJ Bunnyhausen’s more regular DJ gigs. She speculates ‘if this album feels more cohesive than its predecessor it's likely because I've been DJing a lot more, with Worthing Techno Militia, with central and eastern european electronica collective Slav to the Rhythm, as well as being part of Italo Disco crew Flex. Moving between these zones seemed to open up hidden pathways between the disparate musical trajectories they represent.'
While Anemones contrasted the rough and the delicate, its successor is an album built for the head, hips and heart, with painterly sounds and a sense of intimacy that encourages deep listening while keeping its eyes on the strobelight and its feet on the dancefloor.

"Invaders Must Die" is The Prodigy"s 5th album, and is 40 minutes of having your head battered by future nostalgia, serotonin levels twisted by feel-good horrorcore and your synapses snapped by whiplash attitude. It"s the sound of The Prodigy mixing up genres, contorting the past and rewiring the future, ram-raiding through the tranquility of music"s status quo like a blot on the landscape of England"s dreaming. The first thing you notice about "Invaders Must Die" is how complete it sounds, a consistent collection of bangers all firing from the same cannon. The next thing you notice about "Invaders Must Die" is just how melodic it is. Not just melody in the vocal sense but in the heyday-of-hardcore keyboard-hookline sense. Yes, if The Prodigy have learned anything from the hugely successful live shows it was that those old skool rave anthems still rock hard - and are every bit as iconic to their generation as punk was to the nation"s forty-somethings. So "Invaders Must Die" is awash with references to the free party generation, thundering along like the mother of all E-rushes, all hairs tingling, spine jumping and lips buzzing. But not a retroactive arms-in-the-air, water-sharing nostalgia trip, but a set fuelled by punk"s saliva-dripping rabid snarl. "Invaders" also features Dave Grohl drumming on "Run With The Wolves".

Chinaski opens 2026 with SOULMEEX record label exactly where he thrives best: suspended between nostalgia and futurism, melody and motion. Known for his synth-forward language and cinematic instincts, the Berlin-based producer delivers a release that feels both playful and sharply intentional, channeling emotion without sacrificing precision.

Across the EP, Chinaski revisits the spirit of Italo through a contemporary lens, shaping glistening arpeggios, buoyant basslines, elastic grooves and joyful synth stabs into five tracks that move effortlessly between the dancefloor and the imagination. There’s an unmistakable sense of lightness here-music that doesn’t overthink itself, yet is clearly crafted by someone who understands form, tension and release.

Rather than leaning on retro tropes, Chinaski treats dance music as a living, breathing language. The melodies feel familiar but never predictable; the rhythms pulse with warmth and confidence. An unforced sense of freedom runs through the release, inviting repeated listens and late-night moments alike.

With this EP, SOULMEEX sets the tone for 2026 with clarity and purpose, and Chinaski delivers the spell-subtle, melodic, and quietly irresistible.


Reframed is Vitess’ third album, released on his own label Retro Futura, and marks a new turning point in his artistic journey. Unlike his previous albums — the first fully exploring the Retro aesthetic, the second embodying the Futura — Reframed brings these two worlds together within a single, coherent yet eclectic body of work. The album opens with sounds inspired by 90s progressive music and gradually moves toward more futuristic textures. This album format gives Vitess complete freedom: the freedom to build a full, living musical experience, introducing for the first time a strong instrumental dimension — most notably through the use of live drums — and allowing each track to interact with others, transform, or mirror one another, while maintaining a clear narrative thread that guides the listener throughout.

The title Reframed directly reflects this approach. The album is built around tracks conceived as Recto / Verso, offering a form of double listening experience. On the one hand, electronic, club-oriented and progressive versions, designed for energy and dancefloor movement; on the other hand, more introspective, pop and instrumental counterparts, created for listening and storytelling. Starting from the same musical foundation — a vocal sample, a percussion element, or a melody — Vitess develops two distinct interpretations of the same track, generating contrasting yet deeply connected sonic worlds. This method, central to his creative process, highlights his ability to explore a single detail in depth and let a micro-element lead him toward radically different sonic dimensions, while ensuring coherence and a strong identity across the album.

For Reframed, Vitess also collaborates for the first time with other artists: Stupid Flash, ATOEM, and Lucile, selected for their ability to enrich his universe and push it toward new aesthetics. These collaborations recreate a sense of collective energy reminiscent of his early days playing in bands, while remaining true to the essence of the Vitess project: a primarily solitary approach rooted in exploration, experimentation, and embracing the unexpected paths each idea can take.

The album opens with the ominous guitar-driven Hollow Sky, accompanied by its haunting music video's verdant vistas. The song, with Iceglass ghostly vocals, shimmers with that sounds like an Omnichord flittering like sonic firefly lights and brooding bass. This perfectly scores the less traveled wanderings through the dark wooden path of Dante's perdition, leading to the titular well that graces the album cover. The Crater opens with an unsettling riff and bass, with low, repetitive frequencies on the synth create a sense of unease. Here, Iceglass recounts a fatalistic requiem for the king of romance that is cataclysmic and leaves a scar upon the earth. With Fall Industrial Wall, once again, Iceglass channels a silky and Nico-like emotive deadpan; against a dirgelike melody backed by minimal synth, bass, and drum. Almost medieval and plaintive, with its folk droning horns, deep and shallow in their resonance. This song is anachronistic, setting the scene of ruins centuries-old with crumbling edifices strewn about like memories lost in time. With the poetic lyrics of The Chamber do we find the eponymous abyss. Here, dualities are laid bare; besides love, there is heartbreak, and without this sorrow, what meaning would there be to love if one knows not what it is to lose? This song encapsulates the idea that love is heartbreak, and love lost is reaching the deepest chamber of the heart. This is carried through a sombre horn, minimalist drum machine, and deliberate bassline overlaid with Iceglass german and english lyrics. The Well is led in with a softly distorted bassline overlaid with eerie banshee howls give way to Iceglass otherworld vocal refrain, echoing through time as if emanating from a hole in the ground, and encircling that hole is a garden of woe and despair. The sinfully seductive song The Moor features a captivating SAX SOLO courtesy of Perseas; a welcome shift in tone, juxtaposed well with the intensity of Iceglass tenebrous vocal purr. This hitherto unexplored foray into dark sensuality takes the song into sordid mid 80s territory, bringing to mind a dusky drive along a serpentine road, with equally haunting instrumentations straddling time with icy fire. Broken Characters is an acoustic folk interlude featuring Selofan's Dimitris Pavlidis on guitar. Here we find a more gentle approach with its earnest and romantic lyrics. The song's melodic hook is a soft caress along with the forlorn horn elements highlighting Iceglass at her most Nico-sounding vocal yet, singing the sorrowful truth that most artists are indeed broken characters. Chimerical opens with dirgelike synth organs. The chill of winter has befallen the lamentations sung by Iceglass carried by haunting chord progressions and minimal percussion, plaintively beseeching the song's subject to remain elusive, idealistic, and a dreamer. After an album highlighting more Jill than Jack, our male protagonist finally makes his ascent in the sonorous and breathtaking Dark Hill, a masterful march of sweeping synth horns, and trepidatious drum machine with William Maybelline's bellowing voice cracking like thunder, rattling the atmosphere like his heart against his ribs. Spirals swirls in a cautionary knell of cathedral-esque droning synth dirge, with Icarian lyrics shining like a sombre ray of hope; like the sun's rays creeping into the darkest of places. The song, minimalist in its tight percussion, echoes with the solace of Larissa Iceglass vocal litany; invoking elements of the supernatural, almost like a Casio preset sequenced to the beating of an angel's wings.

The record is largely sung in Scots language, one of Scotland’s three official languages along with Gaelic and English. “Scots gives me a way of expressing myself which is connected directly with the landscapes I love. It brings the songs alive and it is a fascinating language. The name of the record is in Scots - Forefowk means the people who came before, or ancestors. When we say ‘mind me,’ we can mean a few things- remind, remember, watch over or care for me. The record explores how tradition needs to be constantly reconnected with, built upon, looked after, and shared.”
Quinie sings with a style inspired by Scottish Traveller singers. “I began singing unaccompanied Scots Song in 2015 after hearing Scots Traveller singer Sheila Stewart on the radio. Initially I felt like I shouldn't sing these songs because I'm not a Traveller, and I saw people around me doing that in a way that made me uncomfortable. But on the other hand this music made sense to me and I felt driven to learn. Over the years I have met Traveller friends who taught me that settled people sharing these songs could contribute to raising awareness. Scottish Travellers are marginalised and discriminated against in modern Scotland, despite being custodians of so many of our important traditions. So I started to perform them and tell this story. From there I built on my repertoire and started writing my own songs”.
To develop this record, Quinie travelled across Argyll with her horse. They went on a pilgrimage of sorts through the ancient landscapes of the West of Scotland to explore the interconnected relationships between people, ancestors, animals, and place. The album’s vinyl release is accompanied by a book and film, documenting this unusual research process.
Forefowk, Mind Me was recorded in August 2024 at The Big Shed in Highland Perthshire with support from Creative Scotland. Quinie is accompanied by an ensemble of musicians: Ailbhe Nic Oireachtaigh (viola), Oliver Pitt (duduk, bouzouki, percussion), Harry Górski-Brown (small pipes, violin), and Stevie Jones (double bass, recording, and mixing). Each of these artists brings their own distinctive voice, bridging contemporary experimental practice with worlds of traditional and early music.

The Portland, ME trio returns with Feels Like Hell, their most self-assured and emotionally charged record yet. Despite the title, the album is a celebration of personal growth, creative freedom, and defiant joy in the face of a chaotic world.

Coming off the burnout and frustration captured in their 2021 album Quitter, Feels Like Hell finds Sonia Sturino (vocals/guitar), Annie Hoffman (bass/vocals), and Adam Hand (drums) leaning into clarity, gratitude, and renewed purpose. Sturino’s lyrics are as raw and honest as ever, but now they reflect strength rather than despair. It’s an album that drags existential dread into the daylight and sets it on fire.

“I decided to stop being such a sad-sap negative person,” Sturino says. “Now I practice being grateful, being proud, being happy, and not being envious.” That mindset shift shapes the tone of Feels Like Hell, which looks at darkness but chooses not to be consumed by it.

The record also marks the band’s first foray into co-writing, with Hoffman playing a significant role in shaping its sound. Embracing a more intuitive recording process, the trio stripped back the excess and focused on what felt right. The result is a record that’s resilient, cathartic, and brimming with creative energy.

While the world may still feel like it’s falling apart, Feels Like Hell pulses with the power of letting go. Letting go of fear, of perfectionism, of the illusion that vulnerability is weakness. With driving guitars, unflinching lyrics, and a renewed sense of purpose, Weakened Friends prove that it’s possible to stand in the wreckage and still find something worth singing about.

Portuguese techno force Lewis Fautzi debuts under his own name on Mutual Rytm with ‘Beneath The Surface’. Hailing from Barcelos, Portuguese maestro Lewis Fautzi has carved out a formidable reputation through a run of uncompromising releases and a sound rooted in tension, precision and raw power - exemplified by his recent outing on the agenda-setting Hayes Collective. He has previously established his fierce, potent sound on Soma, PoleGroup, Mord, and a number of other influential labels, while also heading up Faut Section. Having previously appeared on Mutual Rytm’s Federation Of Rytm III compilation under his Non Cyclic alias, he now steps out on SHDW’s label with a six-tracker busting full of impactful techno cuts. The heavily-requested ‘Beneath The Surface’ opens the EP with menacing low-end and tightly coiled pressure that's released through simmering valves and hissing synths. ‘The Hollow Cycle’ brings a loopy, tunnelling groove with a snaking lead and snaking metallic percussion, while ‘Inner Mechanism’ keeps things dark, deep and driving with a backlit glow that pulls you in. ‘Nonlinear Form’ is streamlined deep techno that fizzes with texture, spraying chords and a rumbling sub-bass, while closer ‘Anamorph’ rides meticulously designed broken beats with an ever-present sense of bass-driven foreboding. For digital purchasers, sparse and eerie bonus ‘Surface’ slams down with industrial weight and real warehouse grit, shaping up another weighty offering for the label.

Chris Liebing's first full solo techno LP, 'Evolver' is released on 27th March 2026, via his own CLR imprint. The German techno don's LP features a host of collaborators across music, images, and artwork. Luke Slater, Charlotte De Witte, Speedy J, The Advent, Terence Fixmer, Pascal Gabriel, Daniel Miller contribute to the music, while long-time collaborators Studio Bergfors deliver design, and legendary photographer Anton Corbijn shot Liebing for the project.

The Evolver LP is the sum total of Chris Liebing's three decades at the beating heart of techno. It's the record only someone whose first break as a techno DJ was playing five hours at Sven Väth's infamous Omen in Frankfurt - and who has ridden out every twist and turn of life and subcultures since, while remaining rooted in the true school, dark, sweaty techno sweat pits of the world - could have made. It's the result of deep introspection, but it's about utter immediacy. It's the sound of someone previously driven along by compulsion and happenstance at last finding the confidence to be utterly intentional about their practice, allowing them to take the most classic, familiar, proven elements from the past and render them completely new.

Evolver is also Liebing's first completely solo album. There are collaborations, yes: with old friends from the OG techno generation, Luke Slater, Speedy J, and The Advent, all on uncompromising form, and with new generation figurehead Charlotte De Witte, who provides a thrilling narration of total surrender to the moment on acid clarion call "Symphonie des Seins". But unlike all Liebing's albums to date, there's no co-pilot. Every structure, every mixdown, every choice serves his singular vision of how his untold immersion in the surging currents of the world's greatest clubs should sound. The elements are all those forged in the white heat of Omen and Tresor in the mid 90s - brutal repetition, titanium kick drums, industrial atmospherics, but also dark rave euphoria, ever present surging acid lines just on the cusp of trance, and just enough human voices to remind you of bodies on the dance floor - but rendered with all the extraordinary accumulated skill and technological developments since then.

It's Chris's vision entirely, his musings on sound, technology, and life birthing tracks like "Roy Batty." Inspired by thoughts of AI becoming sentient and hungering for more life like Rutger Hauer's titular Blade Runner character, it was one of the first tracks to emerge and a foundation stone for the album. And in pursuit of that vision, it's built like a "proper album". The anticipation and menace of intro "Unfold" tip over into the glowing hot high drama psychedelia of "Symphonie…" then the breathless headlong rush of The Advent collab and on through an unfolding narrative that goes deep, goes dark, opens out into grand vistas, takes strange turns before finally landing on the alien landscape of… well… "Endtrack".

Not everything is pummelling on Evolver - the dazzling title track feels like you've been welcomed into the courtly dance of a higher dimension civilisation, and the audacious Speedy J collab "Shaping Frequencies" is a beatless flow that tests the boundaries between signal and noise. But for all its complexity, conceptualism, and stylistic branching out, every last part unmistakably powered by that dark techno-cavern energy above all else. All of it positively radiates the qualities of Liebing's greatest work and sets to date - but somehow even more so than before. Whether you're listening for aesthetic inspiration, cerebral stimulation or just that raw physical power, this album will sweep you up into its momentum and won't let go of you until it's done.

Some tracks are just too good to only feature on a compilation, even if it is a significant and celebratory set like Leng’s 15 Year anniversary album from late last year. That’s certainly the case with Payfone’s brilliantly atmospheric ‘Dime Algo’, a seductive slab of slow-motion Balearic disco featuring ‘I Feel You’ vocalist Kyd Nereida, along with Sofi Hardoy and Ludmila Rodriguez.

For this single release Black Science Orchestra, one of Britain’s most storied production collectives, deliver some truly exceptional remixes. Initially making their name with a series of sensational house jams on Junior Boy’s Own across the 1990s, BSO became renowned for the quality of their remixes as well as an ever-evolving trademark sound that put soul, organic instrumentation and references to dance music’s rich and varied past front and centre.

Comprised of Rob Mello, Ashley Beedle and Darren Morris, Black Science Orchestra work has been rare in recent years but here they deliver some magical takes on ‘Dime Algo’, blending Payfone’s original instrumentation with their own low-tempo magic. The Vocal Mix begins with sparse drums, Kraftwerkian bleeps and heavy sub-bass, building the action in waves with 303 lines, electro synths, warm chords and Nereida’s superb lead vocals combining to re-frame ‘Dime Algo’ as a deep, far-sighted slice of chugging 21st century acid-disco. The Dub Mix stretches things out with effects-laden instrumentation, acid lines and vocal snippets. Deeper and woozier, with more prominent use of the trio’s 303 trickery and Payfone’s superb original elements, it’s a heady, intoxicating and loved-up interpretation that subtly gains intensity throughout its seven-minute duration.

Audaciously innovative sound designer/producer/live artist Enrico Sangiuliano reaches #0 in his countdown from ‘NINETOZERO’ on his eponymous ephemeral imprint, triggering its built-in autodestruct by the release of provocative 3-track EP ‘Absence’, out March 19th on vinyl & digital. The digital EP will also feature an Edit of ‘Step Into The End’.

The Italian tech maestro and artistic pioneer eschews populism, yet still storms charts & wins hearts – notably/recently in his unsettling, compelling manifesto x battle cry ‘The Techno Code’. Says Enrico of his label, ‘NINETOZERO is a cycle of listening, making, and letting go. Born from silence, shaped by space, directed by reflection, altered by change, revealed by glitch, unified through interconnection, lifted toward transcendence, refined by discipline, clarified by chaos, and finally returned to absence.’

On his ‘Absence’ EP: ‘With ‘Absence’ we come full circle, back to the womb of nothingness but charged with the echo of everything we have experienced. It is an ending, yes, but also an invitation. A new kind of silence is born, shaped by the memory of every frequency we unleashed.’ Enrico Sangiuliano can thrill listeners with his music, but dares to challenge, to trust them.

Main track ‘Step Into The End’: a full-on barrage of trustworthy techno danceability & energy, bookended by soulful violin, high horns & sirens, with spoken incantations as if summoning to a sacred rite. A ten-minute timeless dance track as ‘all we’ve learned converges into a single point where presence & silence merge.’

Title track ‘Absence’: The (Techno Code-esque) Voice speaks of sound, space, absence, trace... the track’s background noise is the almost- silence of his studio ‘through a magnifying glass’.. His breathing can just be heard in the recording. Melodic, beautiful, free-form chords in the middle section act like a breakdown in reverse. ‘A provocation, a track of silence, incidental noise. A tale of a story that just finished, but also a background for a story to be shaped. No one is intentionally performing for us. Here, the responsibility and work of listening is on you, to figure out what you can hear and what to make of it, to craft your own soundtrack based on the sounds that surround you, beyond the track. You can perform your own version yourself. Close your eyes and just listen. Engage with your environment. Be present. Expand your senses. Enjoy absence.’

‘The Aftermath’: a 40-second provocative coda. A snatch of stirring conversation signing off the EP and label alike. What will be launched post-zero by Enrico Sangiuliano? Watch this space, this absence.

2x12" Brown Marbled Vinyl 2026 Repress

A foray into deep, organic, cinematic dance music. Subterranean bass, intercepted alien transmissions, and stripped down dance-beats meld with sheets of sounds that roll over the listener like waves lapping up on the shore. Shimmering, watery, brain hemisphere synchronization tones caress and melt stress away. Dance floor friendly tracks that work equally well in one s private listening space. Immersive music with a distinctive aquatic quality. Inspired by Detroit & Berlin s dance genres, but tempered by more ambience / atmosphere than one would expect from those genres. Music without harshness or rough edges. Fuzzy, out-of-focus, soft-sounds that slip in and out of the listener's consciousness. Uniquely melds current dance rhythms with lushness and spirituality. Synesthetic sounds that trigger sensory experiences in cognitive pathways other than hearing smells of perfumes, thoughts of colours, and altered perception of time and space. Psychoacoustic, cerebral, electronic listening music for those wanting a different experience than the current harsher, darker dance trends are offering. Responsibly made gentle music designed from the ground-up to have a positive effect on the nervous system and leave the listener invigorated and recharged. Chi-building sonic balm. Timeless, exotic dance tracks for a new school of electronic music enthusiasts who are searching for beautiful sounds, crafted with a higher purpose in mind.

Transversales Disques proudly presents the first official LP reissue of "Deserted Palace", studio album written & performed by Jean Michel Jarre in 1972, during his work experience at G.R.M. (Groupe de Recherches Musicales).

In 1971, an order was placed with producer Francis Dreyfus to provide sound for public places such as airports and libraries. He decided to pass the project on to Jean-Michel, who had recently been signed by his record company.

These fifteen tracks are made with only two synthesizers (EMS VCS3 & Farfisa organ) in an experimental and very minimal style.

"It was a crazy album, totally homemade, with rhythms that I made in my student room, with a minimum of equipment and at the same time electronic sounds that I stole from the GRM where I went at night after stealing the keys to the studios. It is a pirate record, in every sense of the word, in which we find what I did afterwards.” JMJ

Audio restored & remastered
Including cuesheet poster/ Limited edition of 500 copies

Yellow Vinyl

Blue Lake reveals his most ambitious album yet, which finds its visionary creator Jason Dungan harnessing the collective alchemy of his band, with ten spirited tracks that resonate with a powerful directness, evoking an ecological connection to the wider world.

The solo project (Blue Lake), now on its fifth album, found its name and inspiration via Don Cherry's 1974 live album, sparking a creative epiphany in Dungan, who set off on a path into his own untapped sonic world, guided by what he cited as the emotional potential found within non-lyrical composition. With a newly inspired ethos aimed toward creating direct and simple instrumental music imbued with a deep sense of feeling, Jason began combining an array of musical elements that gave rise to his highly revered album 'Sun Arcs' (2023), with its "ornate, zither-led lattices" (Pitchfork, Best New Music). Conceived in the blissful isolation of a Swedish cabin set in the woods, this was music that soundtracked spring in full bloom. Then, in contrast to the solitary approach of 'Sun Arcs', the highly lauded mini-album 'Weft' (2025) began to set the tone for a more band-oriented approach to delivering the Blue Lake sound. Jason had by this time experienced a special collective energy with his band during a swathe of live performances, which he then sought to harness and distill on 'The Animal', leading him to take the project into a traditional recording studio (The Village) and its limitless potential along with his gifted cohorts.

'The Animal' at its core vividly celebrates human collaboration and is deeply rooted in a sense of community and non-hierarchical connectivity. The group's creative alchemy transcends outwards and beyond the musicians performing together, to summon an inclusive, existential and ecological connection to the wider world and its inhabited spaces. The album contemplates the idea of the human as an animal as Dungan explains: "I'm quite fascinated in thinking about humans more as part of the animal environment and not as something that's so separated into a "human" realm, or sitting on top of a hierarchical pyramid. So the Animal is also me, or us - that we are just living, existing, in the same way as a piece of moss or a sparrow or a cow.

'The Animal' is a form of musical metamorphosis, still acoustic, yet more amplified, elevating it to new dimensions. The Blue Lake project takes on a new lease of life to encompass collaboration with Jason Dungan bound in a universal connectivity, resulting in his most ambitious album to date. A harmonious rejoicing that cements his reputation as a transformative presence in contemporary music.

Bruno Silva, operating here under his restless Serpente alias, returns with Visita do Fogo — a sharp, stripped-back and incendiary counterpoint to the drifting, dream-jazz abstractions of Dias da Aranha. If that record floated like smoke, this one crackles and snaps like dry wood.

Visita do Fogo finds Silva stepping back into the heat of his beat-driven origins, embracing a raw, forward-leaning approach that feels closer to his live detonation than a studio construction. The record is built on stark materials — drum fragments, percussive jolts, scorched-earth loops — all manipulated with his unmistakable “screw” instincts: micro-cuts, sudden pivots, rhythmic false floors and the sense that the track might turn itself inside-out at any moment.
Rather than smoothing edges or leaning into atmospherics, Serpente doubles down on urgency. Each piece moves through the record with a chop-and-go physicality, a kind of ritual propulsion that never settles into comfort. Silva’s rhythmic language remains entirely his own: crooked but precise, feral yet meticulous, rooted in dance structures but constantly mutating away from them.

Visita do Fogo is less a sequel to Dias da Aranha than a flare shot into the same night sky — brighter, hotter, and designed to leave afterimages. It captures an artist burning forward, shedding everything unnecessary, trusting the flame.

You probably have at least one friend who is completely obsessed with Marnie Weber. Her dark, punk-infused humour and fearless embrace of eccentric feminine power archetypes combine with gut-punch viscerality and a strange beauty that is anything but pretty.” Village Voice “This neo-gothic fairytale wavers between happiness and sadness, amusement and tragedy, attraction and repulsion.” The White Review “Weber reaches a new scale for her work…The sentimentality and romance at its root fearlessly sets it apart.” BOMB “Wild multimedia works that often dwell on the ghostly and the monstrous. Think: Fairy tales gone seriously awry.” LA Times Acclaimed LA multidisciplinary artist and musician Marnie Weber collects highlights from a long and storied career on Returning Home: The Music of Marnie Weber, a collection of neo-goth art-pop that steers between kankyō ongaku pop songs, noise-rock, and haunted fairytale darkness. The career of Marnie Weber (b. 1959) began with gigs paid in beer at an LA trucker bar in 1977. Her band, Party Boys, formed when Weber was then 19 and had just left home. By the early 80’s, the band began regularly performing at LA’s fabled Al’s Bar, sharing the stage with generational talents that passed over its beer-drenched floors. L7, Beck, Arto Lindsay, Ry Cooder, The Fall, Fear, Hole, Hüsker Dü, Social Distortion, Nirvana, The Residents, Sonic Youth, Urge Overkill, Jesus Lizard, the Misfits, among plenty more, played to audiences that included Bret Easton Ellis, Steve Buscemi, Tommy Lee, Bill Murray, Al Pacino, Sean Penn, and Chloe Sevigny.

Bristol duo Pume Orenge unspool a world of spectral electronica from cassette loops and instrumental improvisation on their debut album Angel By Milo for Odda Recordings.

It is a world that opens draped in ferric hiss. A fog of sound, dense and yet not quite there, catching the light in strange shades and ambient drifts. Looping and receding, looping and receding, as pucks of static burst like faraway fireworks on a cold winter’s night. Sound sources obscured, ambiguous, not quite what they seem.

Angel By Milo takes its lead from the analogue process and textures by which it was made. Percussive and melodic loops were established, manipulated and responded to with instrumental improvisation, in a give-and-take with the materiality of the medium.

Across these seven intricately developed tracks, the sound fluctuates between the cinematic and the introspective, at times melancholy, at others verging on a kind of restrained anger, before the calm sets in once more. It is music for the small hours, awash with the grainy stuff of memory.

Embedded within Bristol’s independent scene, Pume Orenge’s quiet debut also speaks to the duo’s shared roots in the area, and like many of Odda’s previous releases, contains a sensitivity to place and atmosphere, even when these are no more than implied.

Angel By Milo builds on the DIY ethos of Pume Orenge's 2023 self-titled debut EP, whose tracks were recorded live in single takes, now honing a more intentional, purposeful approach to music making. It is one in which layers of meaning are allowed to reveal themselves, a way of composing that makes a virtue of its labour and the chance occurrences that can arise in the process.

This is music in praise of shadows. Of the things we can’t quite see, the feelings we can’t quite grasp. Heard through the haze, or maybe not at all.

Anton Toorell’s second solo album, Solos II, deepens and intensifies the six-string language introduced on his 2022 debut, Solos. Rather than widening his scope, the Swedish guitarist, composer and producer sharpens his focus, homing in on the physical and sonic relationship between player, instrument and tuning. The result is three extended pieces of cascading tonality that feel disciplined yet light, their conceptual frameworks always secondary to the luminous sounds Toorell draws from two guitars.
Throughout Solos II, Toorell explores both the guitar’s potential for silvery, sometimes clashing textures and his own physical engagement with the instrument. Across ‘Volta’, ‘Cripta’ and ‘Scala’, he plays two guitars simultaneously: one fretted with the left hand using hammer-ons and pull-offs, while the right hand activates mostly open strings on a guitar resting in his lap. Despite the inherent complexity of this approach, the music never feels busy or demonstrative. Technique remains a quiet servant to Toorell’s compositional instincts and improvisational sensitivity.

The album leaves space for unplanned resonances and happy accidents, yet its structures are clear, resilient and finely balanced. The seventeen-minute ‘Volta’ unfolds as a shimmering continuum, its repeated figures gently reshaped through minute inflections, creating a sensation of constant motion. ‘Cripta’ spirals inward, cycling hypnotically in a way that recalls both Terry Riley’s iterative minimalism and the hallucinatory guitar loops of early Seefeel.
With the closing ‘Scala’, the recording environment comes fully into view. Captured in a 16th-century wine cellar at Palazzo Stabile in Piemonte, Italy, the room functions as a guiding presence and an implicit third instrument. Toorell tuned the guitars in response to the cellar’s reverberant character, seeking configurations that would open up the space itself.

In many ways, OLDE OUTLIER rise from the legacy of Australia’s late Innsmouth — a cult band whose 2014 debut Consumed by Elder Sign endures as an underground classic. The connection is more than symbolic: guitarist Askew, vocalist Appleton, and bassist Greenbank all passed through Innsmouth’s ranks, while Beau Dyer now leads this new incarnation after years spent shaping the sound of Innsmouth and the earlier project Grenade.

From Shallow Lives to Shallow Graves marks OLDE OUTLIER’s recorded debut, a four-track, thirty-five-minute descent into their own cavernous realm. While faint echoes of Innsmouth’s inspirations — Armoured Angel and early Samael — linger, the band draw from a broader and far more obscure constellation. Shades of Amon Goeth, Martyrium, Head of the Demon, and Florida’s Equinox collide with the spectral drift of Ophthalamia and early Katatonia and Tiamat, all eroded and blackened into something untraceable.

Despite these depths, OLDE OUTLIER avoid any sense of technical indulgence. Their sound carries a rough, deliberate simplicity — a raw and smoky power that pushes each of the four long tracks forward with unhurried certainty. The songwriting unfolds through patient repetition and subtle shifts, allowing motifs to seep into place and gradually hypnotise. Appleton’s low gutturals bring a grim, expressive edge reminiscent of early Septic Flesh or Thou Art Lord, while the more open, lead-driven riffing imparts a distinctly archaic heavy metal aura that separates this band from their origins.

At many moments, that union of grit and atmosphere surpasses even Innsmouth’s achievements. Accented by well-placed clean and chorused guitar lines, From Shallow Lives to Shallow Graves becomes an immersive and strangely timeless work — a glimpse into an ancient, dimly lit world where OLDE OUTLIER feel less like a new formation and more like something unearthed from a forgotten past.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

Daniel Steinberg debuts on Rekids the Berlin-based Arms & Legs boss drops the ‘Free Living’ EP

Berlin-based producer and DJ Daniel Steinberg lands on Rekids for the fi rst time with the ‘Free Living’ EP, 13th March 2026. Active for over two decades and emerging at the height of the stripped-back, funkier end of minimal house, Steinberg has built a reputation for pairing infectious hooks with tightly programmed grooves, and has ploughed his path via his label, Arms & Legs Records, as well as labels like NuGroove, Front Room, and Southern Fried.

The title track of Daniel Steinberg’s ‘Free Living’ EP sets the tone with slow-slung, dusty House pressure, where restraint and subtlety shape a deep, immersive groove. Blues-tinged vocal fragments sit low in the mix alongside understated trumpet motifs and tender chords, forming a warm-up cut that gradually raises the energy. ‘Concrete Master’ shifts gear entirely, delivering raw, in-your-face house driven by sleazy rap snippets and snarling hits, built for peak-time impact. ‘Seven Sense’ follows with turbo-charged momentum, pairing vamping piano lines with gospel-leaning vocal stabs for hands-in-the-air release, before ‘Perfect Catch’ closes the EP with loopy chords, chopped grooves, and a playful, party-starting sensibility, delivered with characteristic precision. Founded in 2006, Radio Slave’s Rekids expanded with the techno-focused Rekids Special Projects in 2017 and its latest sublabel, REK’D, in 2024. With Matt Edwards as sole A&R, Rekids continues to champion emerging and established artists alike, remaining a trusted home for house and related sounds, with recent releases from DJ Minx, Echonomist, Tal Fussman, and more.

Leading voices in contemporary Organic House anchor LS001 V.A-Thunderlab Collective, the inaugural vinyl-only edition from Life Signal. This first chapter introduces Life Signal as a curated imprint dedicated to presenting standout works from modern electronic music-pieces selected for their lasting impact and now pressed exclusively for listeners who value both sound and physical format.

These tracks have earned significant attention within the digital space, and this release brings them to vinyl for the first time, giving collectors a chance to experience them in a new, tactile form.

A1-Volen Sentir & PROFF-"Luna Amazonia (PM Mix)"
The record opens with a signature blend of organic textures and melodic flow, shaping an atmosphere that sets the tone for the edition.

A2-Krasa Rosa-"
Kaftan"A refined balance of acoustic nuance and electronic drive, building toward a standout breakdown and a sharp, vocal-chopped lead.

B1-Jiminy Hop-"Cavalier (Extended)"
Marked by Jiminy Hop's characteristic phrasing and evolving percussive movement, this version extends the melodic narrative with precision.

B2-Audiense-"Winterfell (Extended)"
A steadily rising finale combining psychedelic touches and ethno-vocal textures, rounding out the collection with an expansive sense of lift.With LS001, the Life Signal vision arrives on vinyl: curated electronic works preserved for collectors who follow music not only by sound, but by legacy.

Getting back to simple things, Homemade EP is an allegory of a DIY mentality in an era filled with complexity and uncertainty.

The A-side leans into early-2000s electro and house, with tight drums and functional grooves.
"Rue des Loubards" (A1) kicks off as a groovy cut, filled with mysterious chords and sensual French vocals, layered with tight, driving drums. "Dreams" (A2) follows as an electro piece with aggressive synth riffs and cinematic vocals.

The B-side drifts toward a late-80s palette, with warmer tones and nostalgic feelings. "Godspeed" (B1) cleverly mixes Italo and new beat elements for a chiaroscuro effect. "Antwerp" (B2) closes the EP with a true journey, starting with trancey textures and skillfully drifting toward a synthpop conclusion.

Detroit's Big Strick for his 7 Days Entertainment label has assembled of collection of Motor City leaning sounds from local and international artists here across four vital sides of wax. Generation Next opens with taught, pinging kicks and tinny melodies on deep house gem 'Senza Via D'Uscita' then Flabaire from Paris brings more bleeping sci-fi synths to a churning and dubbed out low end. Big Strick himself layers in electrically charged, fizzing synths and ticking hi-hats to his raw and gritty 'Bang My Shit' and Ron Cook ups the pace with the blissed out bumps of heady hymn, 'Again And Again.' Pegasvs from London also stands out with his great drum programming on '808 Jazz'.

Consuming you in one swoop, through 10 tracks of poetic electronic-pop odyssey’s, Evadney’s sensational voice acts as the guiding force, weaving between piano, strings, harp, driving electronic elements, and almost beatless moody textures.

Following the release of 3 eps on Black Acre, being remixed by I.JORDAN, inclusion on Jamz Supernova’s BBCRadio ‘Ones To Watch’ list, the Glastonbury Emerging talent list and creating an audiovisual live show performed in the UK and Shanghai, Evadney’s debut album ‘It’s Dreaming’ looks set to solidify him as a bold new voice on the UK music scene, bringing with him a new world of melancholy, narrative-driven pop.

The subjects of sexuality, love, family and a yearning for the divine are played out across this cinematic piece of work. “I’m asking myself and everyone to consider; Where is your love? What does it mean for you? What are your boundaries around it and why?” - Evadney.  On ‘Plie’ Evadney’s vivid storytelling flows effortlessly in a surreal conversation with an angel who teaches him how to dance. ‘Qualia’’ is a harp laden ode to his parents and their enslaved ancestors, whilst ‘Leathered & Laced’ and ‘Good Lord’ are devastatingly beautiful and honest stories of Evadney pulling himself out of his darkest moments of lost direction and substance abuse.

Featuring a prestigious line-up of guests, the album Sonars brings together iconic voices alongside Maxime Dangles and Tommy Rizzitelli: Oxmo Puccino (Continent plastique), Craig Walker, former lead singer of Archive & Power of Dreams (Bug and Delusion), and Aur (Reef).



Conceived during the Art/Science project of the same name, Sonars draws inspiration from reflections on ecology and the shifting biodiversity of our oceans and rivers. It was in Rimouski, on the shores of Quebec’s Saint Lawrence River, that the duo immersed themselves in the imagery and sensations that breathe life into this record. The result is a collection of breathless, driving tracks—a masterly fusion of machines and drums where organic textures meet the urgency of the climate crisis.

Tape Source’s Romain Da Silva Santos further enriches the album with his guitar work, while the visual identity is graced by the work of photographer Jean Gaumy, whose iconic photography features on the cover.

Clear vinyl 2LP reissue of the definitive demo collection from French Death/Thrash legends, Massacra! "Day Of The Massacra" captures the relentless energy of France's leading early-90s death/thrash act. This release compiles these foundational tracks - ranging from the punk-influenced Legion of Torture to the more developed Nearer From Death - showing the evolution of a band that pushed the boundaries of extreme music.

more eaze is the moniker of Brooklyn-based composer, orchestrator, and multi-instrumentalist, mari maurice. A renowned collaborator both in performance and on recordings, maurice"s own work is a fantasia, a reflection of her curious and explorative musical mind, encompassing entire spectrums of sound from a wide sonic pallet of electro-acoustic textures, folk traditions, and pop forms that pirouette into fully realized ecosystems. sentence structure in the country is a definitive statement of the matchless quality of more eaze"s skill as player and musical thinker. The album relishes the ecstatic in performance and collaboration with an inviting wit and incisive compositions, imbuing tenderness, frustration, and joy into each passage. sentence structure in the country is a collection of compositions, each beautifully realized, self-contained worlds. maurice"s dexterous, tasteful arranging lays bare her influences and obsessive fascinations with remarkable congruency while foregoing any sense of indulgence. Her music holds a density not only in the lush compositions and embellishing flourishes, but also for those moments of spare, minimalist beauty. sentence structure in the country is a textural marvel, a mosaic of ethereal electronics and loamy acoustics sculpted around deeply moving, enduring songs.

more eaze is the moniker of Brooklyn-based composer, orchestrator, and multi-instrumentalist, mari maurice. A renowned collaborator both in performance and on recordings, maurice"s own work is a fantasia, a reflection of her curious and explorative musical mind, encompassing entire spectrums of sound from a wide sonic pallet of electro-acoustic textures, folk traditions, and pop forms that pirouette into fully realized ecosystems. sentence structure in the country is a definitive statement of the matchless quality of more eaze"s skill as player and musical thinker. The album relishes the ecstatic in performance and collaboration with an inviting wit and incisive compositions, imbuing tenderness, frustration, and joy into each passage. sentence structure in the country is a collection of compositions, each beautifully realized, self-contained worlds. maurice"s dexterous, tasteful arranging lays bare her influences and obsessive fascinations with remarkable congruency while foregoing any sense of indulgence. Her music holds a density not only in the lush compositions and embellishing flourishes, but also for those moments of spare, minimalist beauty. sentence structure in the country is a textural marvel, a mosaic of ethereal electronics and loamy acoustics sculpted around deeply moving, enduring songs.