Cerca:less is more

New week, new heat from Monsieur Van Pratt, an ever-reliable edit master who this time brings his signature style to a trio of Spanish-language cuts. He tackles two classic disco anthems that are familiar yet completely revitalised in EspaNol as 'Caliente' kicks off with stomping disco energy and catchy riffs, then 'Toca Mi Campana' is a more funky and playful number with low-slung bass. They are joined by a deeper, lesser-known gem, 'Americana ', which is reimagined into a powerful dancefloor weapon with gritty, analogue textures and a deep respect for groove that will heat up any 'floor.

Founded in Cologne, Germany in 1985, Pink Turns Blue's blend of atmospheric pop informed by European post-punk contemporaries and buzzing punk dissonance of Hüsker Dü (the band is named after the Zen Arcade song) immediately tapped into a new canon of sound that was foundational to the emergence of darkwave. Released in 1987 and now remastered by Josh Bonati for vinyl release through Dais, If Two Worlds Kiss is a seminal offering to the canon of dark wave's DNA - a liquid lesson in melody, mood, and pacing - each track continuously adding to the journey like a unique push pin on a map of melancholy. Defined by their dynamic song-writing, their debut added a new urgency and depth to guitar-driven gothic rock by allowing fast songs such as the lead single "Walking on Both Sides" to possess the same sullen punch and melancholy as slower anthems like "When the Hammer Comes Down", which derives its power on the downbeat. More rhythmic variety is added through beat-driven dancefloor tracks with triumphant singalong choruses like "That Was You", showing they could swing hard - as well as swirl_

2025 Repress

At the end of the day, it's about human touch, personal connection and emotional reactions.
With great pleasure we are more than happy to welcome Session Restore and Bernhard Hudalla to the family with a superb debut 12" for the Mojuba sublabel a.r.t.less. A friendship and collaboration that connects musical dots between Hanover and Leipzig resulting in this release called Pathfinder EP. Session Restore might be familiar to some of you through his label rauh, from the party series he's doing in and around Hanover over the last couple of years or as one of the finest vinyl DJs the city has to offer. The debut EP for the Mojuba sub label is a true love letter in four parts to deep and dubby Techno with an emotional touch. As always, let the music do the talking and enjoy! Limited edition in hand-pulled screen-printed cover.

Hailing from Aachen, the Brandwerk resident Danieli is less a producer and more a sound archaeologist. An artist who uncovers the hidden rhythms of nature and translates them into deep, textured techno. His debut EP on a.r.t.less, "Shifting Clouds," is the consistent continuation of this path. The title is not just a name, but a mission statement and a metaphor for his entire approach: music that is organic, fleeting, and full of emotional depth. The four tracks are a journey through soundscapes distilled from field recordings, synths, percussion with analog warmth and dub ethos. From the atmospheric melodic expanses of the title track, "Shifting Clouds," and the almost microscopic detail of "Minutiae," to the hypnotic evolving pull of "Between Layers" and "Reduce", this EP is a masterclass in subtle dynamics. For Mojuba sublabel a.r.t.less, this release is a more than welcome extension of its own sonic cosmos as well as its artist roster.

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.

2025 Repress

DJ Koze exists both above and beyond club culture as we know it - his albums and remixes flying free from genre and trend - and symbiotically woven into its heart. Yes, he always abstracts and weirds out the principles of house, techno, hip hop, pop, psychedelia, exotica and so forth, but he does that because he understands them. And when it comes to club-demolishing tracks, he understands those principles as well as just about anybody on earth. Thus he could create an enduring club tune like 2015's 'XTC' that is strange, contemplative, even disturbing, bore little relation to anything around at the time, yet still got bodies moving and sweating better than way more obvious techno bangers. And thus the Knock Knock album, which melts a million genres and none into one another, can comfortably include 'Seeing Aliens". 'Seeing Aliens' unquestionably is a banger, its bass riff snaking around your body like a python, its high-drama strings, pianos and outbursts of noise designed for maximum crowd pressure release. But, again, it sounds like nothing else, and its dynamics and twists unfold over eight and a half minutes in ways that will mess with your head every time no matter how many times you hear it. The exclusive b-side track, 'Nein König Nein' ("No King No"!), meanwhile, is slightly gentler on the face of it: it's less about sonic pressure, more about hip-shaking syncopation. But it too tells strange fairytales in its peculiar and brain-tweaking accumulation of detail, and though you'll hear archetypal sounds from the heart of house and disco in it, every last one of them becomes new and otherworldly.

Debt is a new album by Harvey Sutherland about the cost of doing business in the meme economy. In his first LP since the 2022 debut, Boy, the Australian artist reduces his fusiony disco repertoire to ten microhoused funk essentials. This is minimalism not so much as aesthetic conceit than pressurised container, shaken in the Escherised time and space unique to our overdriven, red-lining present. The album's title nods to the financial contortions necessary to strive/survive/thrive as an independent artist. But Debt is better understood as the ledger of what we owe, and to whom, in the course of a creative life. What's the ROI on being an artist, a son, a friend, a partner, a father? Have we been worth our loved ones' own investments? If that sounds transactional, this is merely the lingua franca of our overwhelmingly digital culture, a grifter's bazaar in which Bob Dylan tunes up over Salt Bae, and Wordsworth's pitch is opposite the Rizzler.

Debt came to life when Harvey Sutherland acquired a freightload of Y2K minimal cargo from Akufen, Ricardo and Baby Ford—courtesy of local Melbourne hero Martin L—which bent the album towards a moreish pointillism. The resulting music's eyes-down minimal gestures within expressive pop shapes feels apt for the apparently contradictory things we can't help craving: immediacy and craft, on-tap "authenticity," life lessons drawn from Reel nonsense. A few years after the "neurotic funk" of Boy, a thorough excavation of interiority that comprised Harvey Sutherland's first LP proper, Debt is his to-the-point response to pressures that manifest outside the self. But in its own way it remains a reflection of Harvey Sutherland's musical innerscapes, which stretch across the grit and glitter of private-press disco and the sensual grids of Metro Area.

Voal — Vand and Shoal — reveal five more cuts on their home label Isotoop, taken from the pair’s time living together in Utrecht. Whereas the debut EP, ‘Saffron’, dropped the listener into psychedelic aesthetics and atypical rhythmic structures, the sequel ‘Jinx’ has a more crystal-cut vision of club music, made for no less exploratory dancefloors.

Possessing a natural progression almost as fluid as a contiguous live set, with imagination each track can form the basis of the next through the fingerprints of a barely-perceptible ghost leaving a piecemeal narrative impression, an exposure in negative that develops over repeated exposure to the five versatile tracks.

Relative to Saffron’s sidestepping repertoire, this latest EP goes for the jugular with insistent club dynamics from the get-go. Summoning steps on air, a self-contained package of breezy dancefloor initiation and escalation, all-in-one, and from the foothold of this thermal vortex Crosswind ups the drama with storm-hued dynamics and blustery club debris.

The knife of aesthetics is freshly sharpened for the flip: Jinx takes the record out of earthbound atmospheres and deep into sci-fi territory. A jigsawwing bassline seems to drill ever-deeper into an expanding landscape, as it does so uncovering small sonic treasures locked in the bedrock. A mirror to this scene, The Chain digresses with bubbling verve and psychedelic strut, a combo-finishing left hook that simultaneously holds playfulness alongside dour dramatics, a duality shared by vinyl-exclusive closing track Ouah, which blows out the lights with a smirk, and premium hallucinatory dub psychosis.

Pelican has always been a band that's not just from Chicago, but distinctly of Chicago. Formed in 2000 by guitarists Trevor Shelley de Brauw and Laurent Schroeder-Lebec alongside brothers Bryan and Larry Herweg on bass and drums respectively, Pelican's foundation was built upon the rule-free, genre-agnostic scene synonymous with the Fireside Bowl. "The `90s in Chicago was a free-for-all. Everyone was just coming from a place of pure creativity," says Shelley de Brauw. With Schroeder-Lebec returning to the band following Dallas Thomas' exit in 2022, this reunified version of Pelican allowed the band to tap back into those influences and build something distinctly new with Flickering Resonance. While longtime Pelican fans will find an updated version of the band's ethos_one that's been constantly evolving since their very first EP_their new partnership with Run For Cover Records emphasizes something that's always been implicit to the Pelican formula. These songs take as much inspiration from titanic `90s post-hardcore, space-rock, and emo as they do traditional metal, showing that though Godflesh and Goatsnake records occupied the shelves of Pelican's songwriters, so too did Quicksand, Christie Front Drive, and Hum. "A lot of people didn't hear it," says Schroeder-Lebec. "I was like, well, I guess the metal world is where we fit. But now, I'm willing to acknowledge all the suits we're wearing." On Flickering Resonance, Pelican allowed themselves to look at their music less as a means of hard-earned catharsis and more as an appreciation for the glimmers of joy that occur even in the bleakest landscapes.

Sascha Ring aka Apparat’s work as a producer, artist, musician, live act and DJ has always been in a constant state of metamorphosis, while simultaneoulsy always managing to stay true to his trademark musical sound.

There is a unique spirit that lives within his projects and productions or rather they all have this special vision of music which becomes more distinctive with every release and spans his ‘Multifunktionsebene’ and ‘Walls’ albums on Shitkatapult, his ‘Moderat’ album made together with the boys from Modeselektor on Bpitch Control and his DJ-Kicks mix for !K7.

Following on from Kode9 and his friend James Holden, Apparat offers a wonderful mix and insight into the tracks that have influenced and roused his passion for club productions over the years as well as his current favourites in his box.

The mix includes an exclusive track ‘Sayulita’. Together with this mix, it also symbolises a nice reference point in an important chapter in Apparat’s own history – club music. This is a chapter that is by no means finished, for the more he succeeds in re-writing the narrow parameters of techno music, the more important it remains as the driving force in his life.

In the two years since Parallel Minds’ Juno-Award-winning 5th release Homesick by label co-founder Ciel, we have taken our time reassessing our next moves as the larger dance music scene experienced a paradigm shift. What does it mean to release music made by underground artists from lesser-known scenes like Toronto at a time when bookers and A&Rs are taking fewer risks than ever before? How do we truly celebrate the musical diversity of electronic music when the bottom line threatens to reduce any and all forms of risk-taking?

You just do it, of course.

In truth, few artists have come to represent the music scene in the Big Smoke more than Phèdre, and having seen the duo’s progression from indie weirdo-pop to live hardware act to breakbeat wunderkind in the last decade has been nothing short of amazing. It’s really artists like these that inspired us to start the label in 2018, and we are super elated to usher in PM006 with their long-awaited album, Liquid Constancy.

On its face, Liquid Constancy is a breakbeat record. There are housier joints, to more bassy Baltimore club bangers, to breakneck footwork and jungle steeped in sunshine. All of them share a distinctly syncopated, dubwise rhythm that grounds the album’s tracks. With some having been developed as early as seven years ago, these tracks had their genesis in Phèdre’s mostly improvised live hardware sets from some of Toronto’s most notorious warehouse raves. Primarily powered by two Korg Electribe ESX-1s and the semi-modular Moog Mother-32, the jams found new life in the studio when the duo began recording them as tracks, which demanded a mindfulness of their permanence that Daniel Lee and apè Aliermo at first found intimidating.

Over time, the pair developed a synergistic workflow that pulls from Daniel’s background in drums and apè’s keen ear for texture and movement. They sourced samples featuring voices of BIPOC and feminist icons, drew from their shared love of sci-fi and kung fu movies, and from their Filipino, Chinese, German, and Surinamese backgrounds. Samples were manipulated via techniques like lowering bit rates and adjusting speed to maximize usage due to the Electribe’s limited sample time, which was a subtle way of injecting their interests into their music without being too on the nose. Growing up in the melting pot of the GTA, going to raves as teens, bumping post-punk, industrial, electro, hip-hop and 90s R&B — these experiences all had an undeniable influence on Liquid Constancy. As kids of immigrant parents, equally informed by both their adopted and native cultures, Phèdre makes music informed by sampling and defined by cultural hybridity. In times like these, what is more feel-good than believing in music as a universal language that brings our different backgrounds together?

Unchained is the long-standing guitar-based project of Nate Davis, originally from Providence, RI, and based in France for over a decade. In his two most recent LPs—Gabbeh (2024, A Colourful Storm) and Frontalier (2025, Stern Records)—Davis strives to describe a new path for outsider jazz instrumentalism that remains committed to harmonic and rhythmic form while placing greater emphasis on sonic texture through experimental production techniques.

Release Description:

Unchained—a name which at the project's inception or on earlier recordings spoke perhaps to the ecstatic saturation of high gain guitar—has over the past three albums (N.D. Visitor, Pic, and Gabbeh) come to represent more and more an acknowledgement of and sensitive remove from a crashing world. An excuse of oneself from trend towards a siloed artistic development.

On Frontalier, Nate Davis crosses further into this patient personal lexicon of guitar composition, presenting a new set of richly developed songs and leaps in arrangement which may very well shock Unchained fans the world over. The sympathetic geometric guitar themes of the earlier second-period Unchained style are almost entirely absent, making way for a fully realized presentation of the jazz, MPB, and fusion influence present to varying degrees on the previous three albums. Davis's keen sense of melody and songcraft have never been stronger, here landing on music which is at moments evocative of Wes Montgomery, Allan Holdsworth, Jobim, or the jazzier impulses of Lô Borges. Distinct in Davis's music, however, is what these references might belie: an innate tending towards repetition as an affective tool—one which has less to do with the aesthetics of the scene from which the project emerged than it does with devotional prayer. In this way it feels as if Unchained has always been music for living. What was once a maximalist expression of youth has matured into the sound of living with and in the world and an empathic transmuting of all the joy, disappointment, and ambivalence that comes with it. Songs that feel like the sort of thinking one does looking out the window on a long train ride, or the routinism of internal and external life and the breaking out of it. As much as it will be recognized by the fandom as a significant step forward, Frontalier serves also as a perfect gateway for new listeners to the singular music of Unchained.

As trans-Atlantic alchemists pulling from a shared dialectic that somehow encompassed both postmodern deconstructionist tendencies and a delightfully subversive sense of poptimism, it’s easy to see how David Cunningham and Peter Gordon immediately hit it off upon initially meeting each other back in the late-1970s at the height of their youthful transgressions. Having initially worked together on the second Flying Lizards’ LP fourth wall, with its ingenious fusion of dismantled rhythms and rearranged melodies juxtaposed against the slyly sultry singing of Snatch’s Patti Palladin— with Gordon adding a few sprinkles of mischievous sax in the mix— it’s no wonder the collaboration would lead to further musical adventures.

Which leads us directly to the genesis of The Yellow Box. Embarking on a collaborative exercise in the structural repurposing of music as untethered puzzle pieces in need of rearrangement with no predetermined outcomes, the duo gave birth to a project that would see them move through both time and recording studios across Europe, taking nearly two years from 1981-1983 to complete. Enlisting the great Anton Fier on drums from The Feelies/Lounge Lizards nexus and John Greaves on bass from Henry Cow/Soft Heap lore to round out their dueling creative counterparts, the album would be something of a lost treasure until its eventual release on Cunningham’s Piano imprint in 1996.

Cinematic in scope, and filled with drifting drones, beautiful counter-melodies, eery minimalism, Kraftwerkian synthesizers, looped voices, skronky interludes, and other shifting undercurrents of sound, it was an album that utilized both a diverse array of expressive languages, as well as early sampling techniques and prepared instruments, well before most people were thinking in such expansive, integrated terms at the dawn of the 80’s. But such is life at the vanguard of new music. And one of the reasons that it likely sat on the shelf for so long before finally being released well over a decade later. Like a sparser, less groove-oriented version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, or a more radical take on the experimental work of Can’s Holger Czukay, The Yellow Box stands at the crossroads of time and technology, fusing multiple strands of musical thought and compositional techniques into a disjointed whole that somehow still comes off as a conceptually complete record.

Now, here it is again, over 40 years later, with perhaps even more historical resonance than it had before, remade and remodeled just waiting to be rediscovered again.

Calling a Deicide album “more accessible” is kind of like calling a velociraptor less lethal than a T-Rex…you’re gonna die either way. But on 1997’s Serpents of the Light, the fourth album from the Tampa death metal quartet, Glen Benton’s rage-filled imprecations are a little more intelligible and songs like “Slave to the Cross” and “Blame It on God” do sport choruses that verge upon being hooky (if you have a meathook in mind). The anti-religion invective remains unabated, however… this remains music in extremis despite the stripped-down production. For its first-ever standalone U.S. LP release, we’ve remastered Serpents of the Light for vinyl and given it an Orange Smoke pressing complete with an inner sleeve featuring lyrics and a 12” x 24” poster of the cover image. Not for even the faintly faint of heart

Calling a Deicide album “more accessible” is kind of like calling a velociraptor less lethal than a T-Rex…you’re gonna die either way. But on 1997’s Serpents of the Light, the fourth album from the Tampa death metal quartet, Glen Benton’s rage-filled imprecations are a little more intelligible and songs like “Slave to the Cross” and “Blame It on God” do sport choruses that verge upon being hooky (if you have a meathook in mind). The anti-religion invective remains unabated, however… this remains music in extremis despite the stripped-down production. For its first-ever standalone U.S. LP release, we’ve remastered Serpents of the Light for vinyl and given it an Orange Smoke pressing complete with an inner sleeve featuring lyrics and a 12” x 24” poster of the cover image. Not for even the faintly faint of heart

Léo Dupleix return to Black Truffle with Round Sky, following the enchanting Resonant Trees (BT119). The composer here performs on analogue synthesizer, harpsichord and spinet as one member of Asterales, a group that brings together four important figures in the international community of musicians working with just intonation: Dupleix, Jon Heilbron (double bass), Rebecca Lane (quarter-tone flute) and Frederik Rasten (guitars). The quartet perform three recent pieces by Dupleix, each of which is like a different view on the same landscape of unruffled calm, where the unique harmonic events made possible by just intonation flicker across melodies and harmonies like light on the surface of water.

The first side is dedicated to ‘Poème d’air’, composed while Dupleix was immersed in the music of 14thcentury ars nova composer-poet Guillaume de Machaut. A sustained study of the ‘sonic possibilities of low-pitched sounds in just intonation’, it begins with a long, rumbling pitch from Heilbron’s bass, soon joined by the organ-like tones of the composer on synthesizer. The piece is made up of cycling sequences of chords, each of which is repeated for several minutes before the music either freezes on a single harmony or silently pauses before the next episode begins. These structures are initially dominated by the bass and synthesizer, with Lane’s pure vibrato-less flute tone and Rasten picked harmonics adding flashes of colour. As the piece develops, flute and guitar become more prominent and the bass climbs to higher registers. The development culminates in a stunning episode around fifteen minutes in where the texture thins out, casting a spotlight on a melodic figure exploiting the uncanny sound of Lane’s quarter-tone flute.

On the second side we are treated to two briefer pieces, closer to the sound of Resonant Trees as they return harpsichord and spinet to the foreground. ‘Ghosts’ centres on a harpsichord melody that slowly expands as it repeats, growing from a haunting six-note cell to a flowing succession of notes whose shape become increasingly difficult to perceive. Alongside this melodic development, an increasingly lush accompaniment grows, with long tones from bass, flute, e-bowed guitar and synthesizer holding notes picked out the harpsichord melody in a swaying harmonic cloud. Dupleix notes that the concluding ‘Round Sky’ was written in the countryside in spring, a circumstance that seems far from irrelevant to the impression the piece makes when its euphonous spinet arpeggios emerge from a gentle synthesizer drone like a flower from a bud. Performed as a duo with Rasten, with both instrumentalists also singing, this title piece exemplifies what makes Dupleix’s music so unique: grounded in a rigorous application of just intonation principles yet as open as Harold Budd or Andrew Chalk to an uncomplicated, intuitive experience of beauty.

Dutch artist Sander van der Toorn returns to Kit Records, following his much-loved work with analogue-decayed folk duo Love is Yes, in 2024. While Sander's signature haze of tape-smeared synthesis and motorik guitar is ever present, "kom-kom" represents a departure from the elysian warmth of Love's debut.

The industrial throb of tracks like 'FIVE' and 'Rainhum' bear the deconstructed hallmarks of krautrock pioneers Neu!, and even the dystopic glow of artists like Plastikman or Pole. When kom-kom's harmonic ambitions resurface, such as on the synapse-aching 'Dwarsdoor', or the glassy structures of 'Hazenhart', the effect is startling.

van der Toorn cites the inspiration of Morton Feldman and Sarah Davachi when describing his work less as a linear listening experience, more a collection of sculptures that can be viewed from different angles. In this way, kom-kom doesn't have to move forward; the encounter can be one of stillness, of static objects given movement by the beholder's shifting perspective.

Sounds like: John Fahey being stretched into infinitely long pieces of spaghetti.
Recommended if you like: intercontinental rail travel, Mark Fisher, a nice malbec.

Limited edition of 100 cassettes, with risograph printed artwork.

Acclaimed electronic musicians, producers and sound architects Max Cooper and Rob Clouth team up for a new collaborative EP; a dark, playful four-track dive into ambient, breakbeat and techno’s subconscious flow, featuring a standout vocal performance from South London rapper FLOHIO.

Recorded over a series of spontaneous London sessions, “8 Billion Realities” channels years of creative exchange between two of the genre’s most quietly innovative artists and is a result of a decision between the longtime friends to refrain from conceptual overthinking in favour of instinct and joy.

As long-time admirers of each other’s audio/visual work, Cooper and Clouth collaborated in London together after both emerging from intense, idea-heavy album cycles. What followed was a series of exploratory sessions, half-improvised, half-built around half-formed thoughts.

The result is a club-ready EP that feels alive and human: imperfect and hypnotically rich.

“Rob Clouth has been one of my favourite electronic music producers since I first heard his work in 2011,” says Cooper. “His work is more full of ideas and structure than anyone else.” “We were both coming from extensive conceptual studio albums and both in the mood for simplifying things and having some fun with the music, so that’s what we did”.

For Clouth, no stranger to Max Coopers Mesh label having previously released an array of EP’s plus his 2020 debut album “Zero Point” this record marks a new chapter, both creatively and personally.“Something pretty new for me is collaborating,” he says. “You kind of have to when to stop, because if you develop an idea all the way to its endpoint, the other person has nowhere to jump in.”

The first “A Moment Set Aside” began as a break from another idea, a live, unplanned improvisation based around arps and ambience. “The track was written in about as long as it took to play it,” says Cooper. “It was pulled from a 1 hour recording session, more or less as you hear it… the energy and excitement grew as the unplanned moment bore some magic.”

“The lesson being that sometimes it’s helpful to set aside a moment without forcing results, and let the subconscious have something to say.” What followed was darker, heavier. “Asymptote” is detuned techno. Subversive and euphoric in its descent. “We found a sort of brain mangling, half consonant, half wandering detuned techno pulse, which we started chatting about being a sort of pit of spiralling body parts we were falling into,” says Cooper. “It was a lot of fun to work on and let loose with bigger kicks than I usually ever get to unleash.”

Then came “8 Billion Realities”, featuring a standout rap performance from FLOHIO; an emerging figure in the UK grime and rap scene. The track was inspired by conversations about algorithmic echo chambers and hyper-personalised online worlds. Frantic, direct, and South London to the core, FLOHIO brings this tension to life. Her sharp, intense flow cuts through distortion and rhythm, landing the track somewhere between chaos and control instantly making it one of the most striking moments in either artist’s catalogue. “A different reality for all 8 billion of us,” says Cooper. “We weren’t sure if it would work… but there was something about the energy of the percussive idea and the story which felt like it might fit.” “Then FLOHIO had a play with it and straight off the bat absolutely killed it, not just with the lyrics and energy, but the harmonising too, it was a beautiful process.”

The final piece on the EP “Candeleda” originated from Clouth’s solo experiments with a live rig made entirely of vocals and keys, using his self-developed “cheatbox” system. “He put forward a beautiful stumbling melodic sequence which we bounced back and forth adding harmonies and synth layers,” says Cooper. “It rounds off a collection covering some of the breadth of music that we both love.”

funcionário delights in the freedom of creating freeform music for the first time in his career. On “horizonte”, he loosens the reins, his sound follows a wavy, organic structure rather than a rigid, formal one. If it feels freer and more colourful, that’s because it truly is.

Eight years ago, when we first encountered his work, he was composing soundtracks for imaginary video games and crafting sonic landscapes that felt like destinations for sci-fi anime characters. With “Cavalcante” (2022), he broke away from that past. It marked a turning point, he was ready to explore a “fourth world” in both sound and concept. The feedback was overwhelming.

Three years later, “horizonte” marks another evolution. He sends us music regularly, but this album stood out immediately. It felt right: more synth-driven, more open to improvisation. As he put it: “It’s like using oil pastels for the first time and discovering new possibilities. In a way, I’ve found new ways of creating using the same colours.”

Listening to horizonte is like waking up from a dream. Again and again. The opening track, “nascer”, suggests a new dawn, but it’s in “pássaros” that the vision fully takes flight: less processed, more raw, yet still detailed and expansive.

Finding new ways with the same colours has been his quiet mission all along. What’s new here aren't the tools, but the feeling. The movement. The invitation to travel with him. You can hear - and feel - his sense of wonder. Every sound radiates joy. Every moment sparks a new thought. The music moves quickly, but breathes slowly.

Tracks like “renascer” and “o caminho do regresso” echo the spirit of late-70s/early-80s Vangelis, in deep reverence. And just as you approach the end, “fantasma” arrives - a stunning closer, reminiscent of Eno’s “An Ending”. By then, it’s clear: the “fourth world” is behind him. funcionário has moved on. To where? We’re about to discover.

Lénok’s 'Langue of Tongue' is a descent. An unhinged pinballing down a realm of incomprehension and lunacy, a darkly psychedelic ego-death-spiral into a world of pure, deranged disquiet. It is, and this cannot be emphasised enough, a truly fucked up place. It comes complete with clearly marked borders delineated by its opening and closing tracks '(Entrance' and 'Exit)’. The message is clear: this is less album than zone.

There's no comfort to be found here. It’s like the inner monologue of some insectile, cyborgian abomination, something unfeeling and hostile, something that could only thrive in a mirror world that perverts light and sullies warmth. It's a netherworld: tracks jut out and stab like cold, craggy wastelandscapes, tangled meshworks of alienic transmissions bleed out into deformed knots of gurgling white noise, lacerations of sound roil and heave and claw as if imprisoned within oppressive waveforms.

‘Tongue’ is marked by a kind of wackiness, a demented slapstick that renders its darkness all the more sinister. Voices wail and taunt like schizophrenic spirits trapped between torment and cackling ecstasy. Tracks giggle and skitter as if populated by grinning, snaggletoothed shadows.

‘Langue of Tongue’ is recommended for the curious and advanced listener. This is music for whatever the opposite of escapism is — it’s REAL twisted. But sometimes morbid fascination takes hold. Sometimes you lift the rock, because you can’t help it, and you observe the squirming mess of life it plays host to. What you experience may not be pleasant, but you might just struggle to tear yourself away.

‘A Tremendous debut. Skilfully blending folk, country and other styles, Woof’s eponymous debut album features thoughtful songwriting, adroit musicianship and her remarkable, crystalline vocals’ - 4/5 RECORD COLLECTOR

‘Enchanting. Whether playing almost solo or with a full band arrangement, Wooff is never less than mesmerising’ - 4/5 SHINDIG!

‘Her spectral voice and acoustic guitar lead abstract stories of loss, yearning and self-exploration, nimbly embellished with pedal steel, organ and strings. ‘The Waltz Of Winter Hey’ and ‘Lefty’s Motel Room’, with its allusive nod to Townes Van Zandt, are outstanding’ - 8/10 UNCUT

‘Launching herself fully onto the scene, she beguiles with tales of love, loss, hope and womanhood, wrapped up in a beautifully strange gothic romanticism’ - FOR FOLK’S SAKE

‘The beauty in the record is not merely based on Toria’s melancholic melodicism and rich delivery. It can be enjoyed in the juxtaposition between the singer’s darker, more eerily gothic instincts and the soothing, reassuring presence of instruments like pedal steel and cellos.’ - KLOF

Four cuts of unapologetic, immediate Jungle that capture Tim Reaper’s frantic energy and Fracture’s deadly sonics — a perfect balance of aggression and detail. No holds barred, examined with a fine-tooth comb. Precision Pandemonium. Alongside the music, the collaboration extends to artwork, with each label’s iconic logo reimagined in the other’s style. This visual partnership spans the 12” label and sleeve design, as well as an extensive range of streetwear merch.

Fracture says:

I’ve known Ed for over 15 years, going back to the forum days of Subvert Central and Dogs On Acid. Even then, his approach to Jungle was authentic and compulsive. He’s stayed on that path with unwavering focus, never chasing trends—just pure, raw Jungle. What he’s built with Future Retro London is so desperately needed in this day and age: a space where music and community come first, shining a light on artists and DJs often overlooked by mainstream channels that favour gimmicks. His passion for Jungle is infectious, and I’ve always wanted to work with him so doing a full label collaboration feels completely right. Working with Ed is a real eye opener - he’s so full of ideas and the speed at which he can generate patterns is scary. Watching him fly around his laptop, chopping breaks and writing basslines is like watching a Grandmaster play speed chess—always on, never off. Shout out Tim Reaper each and every. An incredible DJ as well.

Tim Reaper says:

I think this is probably the longest ever I've spent on any release for Future Retro London, clocking in at just over 3 years of back & forth between me & Fracture in the making of this. There's a lot of backstory behind this project, so excuse my ramblings below.

The story starts with me hearing Sully playing a tune by Fracture called "Booyaka Style" which I really liked and thought would be great to release. I reached out to Fracture about it and found out later that he already made plans to include it on an album project (0860) that he was working on at the time which later came out on his label Astrophonica. He asked if I would be up for sending him any tunes to be considered for release on Astrophonica, but in response to this, I suggested a joint label project that both of us would have tunes on & he seemed keen to do it.
Few months later, I got back in touch to ask if he had done any tracks for this release but he was still busy with other things and instead sent me a track he had been working on, with the suggestion of us collaborating on it. We finished a track together that we both liked & felt as if it was a good starting point for the release. We then got a few more collabs done with a fair bit of back & forth, but upon reflection, he felt as if they could be a lot better than what they currently were and so, the release started to change in format a bit. Fracture suggested that we should meet up in his studio and work on some tunes together in person, with the aim of getting a few bits done over a bunch of sessions and getting it all sorted out in a much quicker timeline. Thankfully, this actually worked, we managed to get some collabs done that both of us are very happy with (even managing to sample a recording of Blackeye from a set from a Future Retro London event!)

Thanks to Fracture for his co-operation & perseverance with this release, helping to see it through to the end & not allowing it to be anything less than the best possible version of itself, thanks to Mark at Sequence for his role in helping with the logistics/manufacture of this release, thanks to Utile for assisting on the design on this release and most importantly, a very special thanks to all the obstacles along the way that I faced in the making of this release, which helped me appreciate getting to this point so much more than I ever could have!

Les Inferno Edits is the brilliantly exciting new label from Les Inferno (the same Dude behind Daje Funk). Dedicated to delivering irresistible edits and reconstructions of, more or less, rare or obscure funk, disco, soul, and Latin gems, these tracks have never before appeared as 12” mixes. Strictly vinyl pressings and optimized for the dance floor, all tracks come confoundingly titled as ‘UNKNOWN’ and identified by their LIE catalogue number. Les Inferno Edits are going to be the next frontier for exclusive edits that’ll have everyone stupefied for the classic freshness in the grooves.

So Fades the Light is an eerie horror thriller that makes for unsettling watching. That is no small part thanks to the equally haunting score from composers Blair French (an ambient and Balearic producer from the Detroit area) and Dave Graw (a fellow Motor City musician and visual artist), who forgo melody in place of atmosphere. It means their soundtrack is a living, breathing presence that's less about music a more of a sort of ghost that refuses to leave. Graw and French sculpt a world of distortion, static and whispered tones that feel dug out of crumbling ruins. It’s bleak, patient and unrelenting, always pulling you deeper into the lead character Sun’s fractured memories and the menace of her past. As a standalone release, it’s equally gripping: a record that blurs ambient, horror and noise into one oppressive atmosphere.

So Fades the Light is an eerie horror thriller that makes for unsettling watching. That is no small part thanks to the equally haunting score from composers Blair French (an ambient and Balearic producer from the Detroit area) and Dave Graw (a fellow Motor City musician and visual artist), who forgo melody in place of atmosphere. It means their soundtrack is a living, breathing presence that's less about music a more of a sort of ghost that refuses to leave. Graw and French sculpt a world of distortion, static and whispered tones that feel dug out of crumbling ruins. It’s bleak, patient and unrelenting, always pulling you deeper into the lead character Sun’s fractured memories and the menace of her past. As a standalone release, it’s equally gripping: a record that blurs ambient, horror and noise into one oppressive atmosphere.

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

A record born of insurmountable joy and simultaneous profound loss; World Maker marks a time of great change for Psychonaut, both personally and musically, as the band burn away the philosophical narrative complexities of previous offerings with a searing, panoramic clarity that implores us to savour the beauty of the now as a means of leaving a legacy for the future. The traditional, three-piece line up of Belgian, psychedelic post-metal collective Psychonaut has long belied the compositional prowess, captivating narrative depth and crushing live presence of a band now operating at the forefront of forward-thinking, contemporary heavy music. Having sent a shockwave through the post-metal and prog scenes with their three times repressed Pelagic Records debut Unfold The God Man in 2020 before following it up with the transformative metaphysical complexities of 2022's Violate Consensus Reality, Psychonaut have played prestigious Belgian open-air festivals like Alcatraz, Rock Herk and Boomtown Festival as well as boutique events such as Soulcrusher, Roadburn Redux and A Colossal Weekend whilst sharing stages across Europe with the likes of Amenra, Brutus and Pelagic labelmates The Ocean and PG.Lost. The seed of World Maker took shape just as the campaign for Violate Consensus Reality came to a close, with the news that guitarist/vocalist Stefan De Graef was to become a father. This tilting of life's axis led De Graef, like most fathers-to-be, to re-assess what was really important. As such, the music he was inspired to write felt free of the band's previous philosophical and spiritual foundations and instead took the form of life lessons for his unborn son, a legacy of love in case something were ever to happen. This hopeful euphoria shines keenly throughout World Maker as an uncharacteristically optimistic warmth; from the reverberating Rhodes organ on the titular opening track and the meandering, free-jazz inspired guitar solo that introduces `Everything Else is Just The Weather' to elements of world music, electronica and the otherworldly voice of Dutch multi-instrumentalist and old friend Anthe Huybrechts (Anthe/Helion Creek) most notably on tracks like `Origins' which also features tabla, a pair of indian hand drums, as its propulsive heartbeat. Whilst Psychonaut's giant riffs, punishing polyrhythms and guttural vocal rage are more resplendent than ever, there is a wider dynamic spectrum to World Maker that sees the band proudly exploring their more delicate, intimate extremes as well as their most aggressive and abrasive. Not long after the birth of De Graef's son came the devastating news that both his own father and Psychonaut bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels' father had been diagnosed with advanced cancers. Living day-to-day and torn between joy and grief, the band found themselves shedding the grand scope and world-shattering agenda of Violate Consensus Reality to focus on the here and now. Lead single `Endless Currents', the first full track on the album, explodes in a barrage of staccato guitar tapping but mellows to let the powerful, newly pared back lyrics ring out as a call to embrace the flow and follow joy. The song's final few words `Lead the way. / Soar. / Everlong.' double as both a greeting and a goodbye as the trio build their formidable post-metal might to a thunderous breaking point. Similarly, the pulsing, propellant `Stargazer', named so for De Graef's son being born in stargazer position, pairs delicate guitar motifs and folk-inflected optimism with huge and sprawling breakdowns as some of the band's most genre-pushing work to date; asking difficult but important questions of what happens next. It is `And You Came With Searing Light' though that most immediately exemplifies Psychonaut's redirected ambition on World Maker, as euphoria collides with blinding fury. The first track written for the album, `_Searing Light' is easily the most complex and initially wouldn't sound out of place on Violate Consensus Reality. Originally meant to be the new album's opening track; the decision to defer its impact, not to mention its compositional and dynamic gravity, speaks of a fundamental change to the band's very core. The words "Discover the world with wide eyes" recurring throughout speak as much to those having lost a part of their world as they do to those seeing it for the first time. Amidst such turbulent times, the band found strength and support within their Post-Metal community. The album was recorded and produced by the band alongside their longtime collaborator and close friend Chiaran Verheyden (Hippotraktor) with help and advice from Psychonaut's live engineer Victor, who will no doubt make this album sound just as awesome on stage. Even the artwork for World Maker was a family affair, being designed by close friend Sam Coussens of Belgian cosmic sludge metallers Pothamus. In the face of life's soaring highs and desolate lows, World Maker is direct and brave without sacrificing any of Psychonaut's raw power, creative innovation or inimitable musical depth. Where their previous full-length offerings have charted grand introspective courses through time and space, World Maker is breathtaking in its uncompromising clarity: a father singing to his newborn son as a son bids his own father farewell. FOR FANS OF Mastodon, Russian Circles, Tool, Gojira, The Ocean, Pelican, Hypno5e, Cult Of Luna, Amenra

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

Le Motel and Bruce Wijn met at school, during a school art trip to Munich. They went separate ways for a long time.

Hailing from Brussels, Le Motel's world is a vortex of sight and sound that takes in the many and varied corners of the planet. As a music producer and film composer his versatility has taken him to festivals and clubs in every direction as naturally as he has ventured out to the less accessible areas of the globe as a field recordist. It's somewhere in between these spaces that Le Motel operates, gathering unique experiences and sounds to channel through his studio.

Bruce Wijn is a Brussels-based guitarist who played in several postrock kind projects such as Sound Film, 52 Commercial Road, or more shoegaze Lazy Sin. These collaborations gave him the opportunity to perform in various locations in Belgium, France, England, and the USA. As a musician, his focus has always been attracted by progressively built rhythmic melodies, which would eventually turn into long reverberated or distorted swells, or the otherway round.

All these experiences brought them both to the idea of scoring movies with different yet similar approaches.

That's how their first collaboration happened as Le Motel was working on the soundtrack of the movie Binti, and invited Bruce Wijn for the track Exode, in 2018. Since then, they've been working on other scoring projects, such as the feature film 'Aller Retour' more recently.

Alongside the movie scoring activities another audiovisual live project was born, in collaboration with Antoine de Schuyter and his mesmerizing images.

This one is more focusing on tape textures, field recordings and glitchy effects in order to build atmospheric tracks that they decided to bring together in a first E.P. 'MAAR'.

'MAAR' is elaborated as a soundtrack for an imaginary journey between cold seas and volcanoes explorations.

From the first echoing sounds of playing kids on the shoreside in the opening track 'La Perche' Le Motel & Bruce Wijn let you slide in a technicolor dreamworld, reverbing slowly innocent childhood memories into a chilled, out of range, future.

'MAAR' dives deep into a kaleidoscopic microcosmos watching Nautilus playing hide and seek with 'Captain Ahab' floating on sonic breaking waves, while seagulls gently spread their wings flying through the breezy and misty clouds of Blankenberge.

Lava vulcanica slowly melts in the sad euphorica of the cold North Sea, crystallizing sounds only Le Motel and Bruce Wijn can deliver.

Mister Water Wet returns to Soda Gong with "Things Gone and Things Here Still," an album that radically expands the project’s purview while preserving the homespun warmth and oblique tactility that have long defined Iggy Romeu’s work. Where earlier records tilted toward the dusty swing of sample-based beatcraft or spectral minimalist jazz, here Romeu opens the frame to a more ensemble-minded approach, inviting a stellar cast of supporting musicians, including SG alumni Memotone and K. Freund, into the fold.

The result is an album that feels both broader and more intimate, with live instrumentation such as piano, strings, and reeds woven into MWW’s signature lattice of hand percussion, production sleights, and slippery time signatures. Acoustic and electronic textures bend toward each other like plants angling for the same light: bowed strings blur into vaporous pads, brushed drums scatter under riffing guitars, a horn phrase lingers in the same space as a cracked cassette loop.

A tension between decay and presence - the “things gone” and the “things here still” - runs throughout the record. At times, the music evokes a chamber session refracted through waterlogged tape; at others, it recalls the afterimage of a hip-hop instrumental slowed into an oneiric haze. In the world of MWW, memory functions less as nostalgia and more as a living fabric - mutable and resonant. "Things Gone and Things Here Still" finds Iggy Romeu at his most expansive, offering up a generous record of open spaces and porous boundaries.

For over 11 years, Nowadays Records has been shaping the French electronic music scene with boundless energy and total artistic freedom. Much more than a label, Nowadays is a big musical family where every release, meeting and event becomes a real celebration. With over a hundred albums and nearly a thousand titles to its credit, Nowadays Records embodies musical diversity across a variety of genres: abstract hip-hop, house, electronica and alternative pop.



It's in this festive spirit that the Club Nowadays project is born, a true embodiment of the collective's vision. Through its club compilations and evenings featuring label artists and outside guests.



Today, the label continues to chart its course with the release of Club Nowadays Vol. 6, a new opus in its series of compilations, which fully embodies its vision of club music. This sixth volume brings together emblematic figures of the label and emerging artists around the following dance tracks.



Don't Lie, the first single from the compilation, is a heartfelt track born of a broken heart, but turned towards the light. Mira Ló composed this track as an act of resilience, following a break-up in love. She transforms her pain into positive energy, hoping that everyone can recognize themselves in it and find a little sweetness to soothe their own grief.



R1D1 brings together his groovy house and garage influences to create the track Marsupilami around a hand-crafted synth, sharp drums and deep bass. Influenced by hip-hop beatmaking, he incorporates vocals from radio and interviews, transformed into rhythmic elements. The name, a nod to the famous character, comes naturally through the sampled “houba houba”. Between offbeat textures and assertive groove, the track embodies R1D1's singular, hybrid universe.



OOGO & Blanka, two pioneers of the label, offer us Phô Real, a hybrid track between soulful deep house and hip-hop groove, mixing organic and digital textures. A track to get the dancefloor moving, with a delicious nod to La Fine Équipe's culinary universe.



With Tracksuit & Loafers, Yambow creates a bridge between groovy French Touch elegance and the effervescent energy of UK house, in the tradition of producers like Salute and Oppidan. The track is conceived like an acid cocktail: funky, euphoric and dancefloor-friendly. The title is a nod to cultural contrasts - between English tracksuits and French loafers - which translate into a musical interplay between sophistication and fervor.



Finally, Laaanky, the Parisian producer, breaks codes and gives free rein to his passion for raw sound, efficiency and groove on the track Bloom. Between textured house, dub echoes and Afro-tinged post-dubstep rhythms, he explores a danceable, minimalist and percussive electronica. Less is more.

The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die return October 17 with Dreams of Being Dust, an album that finds the Connecticut-formed collective plumbing the depths of emotional ruin and emerging with their most scorched, unrelenting work yet. Co-produced by guitarist Chris Teti (Fiddlehead, Anxious) and Greg Thomas (END, Misery Signals), the album exchanges the band"s usual sprawl for something more serrated-folding djent-like heft and post-hardcore volatility into their post-everything DNA. Dreams of Being Dust is the band"s fifth studio album, and follows up their well- received 2021 album, Illusory Walls, which arrived as their "heaviest, proggiest, most audacious release to date" according to Stereogum. Tackling complex social and political themes like religion and capitalism, Pitchfork praised its scathing indictments as "fuming with resentment for the ruthless greed and self-interest fueling societal collapse. If Illusory Walls was their grand reckoning, Dreams Of Being Dust is the aftermath: raw, furious, alive. But even amid the chaos, the band"s core remains intact-a belief in community, resistance, and making sense of the world through sheer volume and vulnerability. TWIABP have always blurred the lines between hope and despair, and here, that duality feels sharper than ever. Now a decade in, the band- David F. Bello (vocals), Chris Teti (guitar/ vocals), Joshua Cyr (bass), Katie Dvorak (synth/vocals), Steven K. Buttery (drums), and Anthony Gesa (guitar/ vocals)-deliver a message that sounds less like a eulogy and more like a rallying cry.

SKA was the name given to the music that came out of Jamaica between 1961-1966. Based on the American R&B and Doo-wop records that the Sound Systems in Kingston Town used to play. However, the American records style started to mellow out, while the Jamaicans preferred a more upbeat sound. So the Sound System bosses became record producers to cater for this demand. Sir “Coxonne” Dodd and Duke Reid led the way putting the top musicians on the Island in the studio to make music unmistakably Jamaican. A lot of their early recordings were cut at Federal Records before they built their own studios.

Federal Records was the first domestic Jamaican studio, based at 220 Foreshore Road, Hagley Park, Kingston. It opened it’s doors in 1961 owned by Ken Khouri who first licensed American records to the island of Jamaica, before cutting his own tunes, which were some of the first Jamaican RnB and Ska singles. Ken Khouri initial studio was Records Limited but very basic so with the help of engineer Graeme Goodall built the new studio complex at 220 Foreshore Road which also contained a pressing plant and disc cutting room. The studio was not only the forerunner for Ska music but the music that followed and in 1981 Ken Khouri sold the complex now on the renamed road Marcus Garvey Drive to Bob Marley who renamed the premises Tuff Gong Studios whose legacy carries on today.

We have compiled some of the best SKA SOUNDS that came out of the Federal Vaults, with some of the best artists, musicians from the time. The great Lord Tanomo, Don Drummond, Rico Rodriguez, Roland Alphonso, alongside some lesser known artist. However, one thing is for sure, the quality never drops on this fine collection of Ska Hot Tunes……

Stone classic Bullwackies (as excursioned by Rhythm & Sound for Burial Mix), sensationally featuring two unreleased dubs, newly extracted from the master reels. Both are equally unmissable but quite different, with contrasting effects: the second dub adds ninety seconds, including whip-dem spring reverb. Drawn from the Selective Showcase LP, the vocal mix is more open and dubwise than the Sing & Shout LP offering, with less keyboards.
Asked whether it should be mash or march, after some pondering Bullwackies replied: "That's a good question.'

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

An aural bridge between two distinct generations of Italian experimental musicians, “Liminale” is the debut collaborative outing from the creative partnership of Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello. Active within the context for roughly two decades, Turra (b. 1975) is a reductionist/electroacoustic composer, noted from his tense deployment of concrete and acoustic sources — particularly small sounds and noises — whose work threads the balance between silence, tactile auditory perception, and aleatoric music. Martusciello (b. 1959), on the other hand, is a musician and composer working across the fields of acousmatic and electroacoustic composition, sound installation, multi-media and audiovisual art, and computer music improvisation, who is widely celebrated for both his solo efforts and his collaborations with Eugene Chadbourne, Mike Cooper, Alvin Curran, Chris Cutler, Rhodri Davies, Iancu Dumitrescu, Michel Godard, Tim Hodgkinson, Lawrence D. "Butch" Morris, Jérôme Noetinger, Tony Oxley, Evan Parker, Z'EV, and others.

A single, nearly 40 minute work, extending across the two sides of the LP, “Liminale” — as its title eludes — is an exploration of the liminal through sonic means: “places that exist on the threshold, transitional spaces suspended between a before and an after, between the real and the evanescent” conceiving the soundscape as “a liminal place, a space to be inhabited without the certainty of where it leads.” Unfurling like a labyrinth navigated in darkness, the piece’s first half is marked by sparseness and restraint, as slow-paced guitar tones and harmonics thread silences and resonant ambience within a sprawling sense of space, delicately populated by tiny sounds, fleeting punctuations drawn from undeterminable sources, vocal utterances, and the unexpected appearance of intoxicating piano tones.

As “Liminale” progresses into its second half, Turra and Martusciello enter a more densely populated notion of the in between. No less defined by the presence of space and mystery, discreet textures rustle and writhe within passages of pure concrete abstraction and a fragmented, stretched sense of musicality: long-tones, metallic pulses, minimal vibrations, processed vocalizations, guitar harmonics, and deconstructed piano melodies, buried in spectral, gauzy hazes drifting from beyond arm’s reach within an imagistic and immersive landscape of profoundly meditative scope, where each sonic element flirts the line between emergence and disappearance.

Intimate, fragile, and achingly beautiful, “Liminale”, Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s debut collaboration, is a masterstroke in sound-craft and composition, revealing the potency of meaning locked within transitional spaces and the undefined, and imbuing silence with monumental gravity and weight. Mastered for vinyl by Giuseppe Ielasi, and taking electroacoustic minimalism to an etherial extreme, “Liminale” is issued as the ninth entry in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Erik K Skodvin's feature-length score to Thomas Roth's thriller "Schächten" feels like the epitome of all his musical projects, conjuring a dark cinematic trip through 1960's post-WWII Vienna in a film that touches on topics such as law, justice & revenge.

Releasing a soundtrack as a stand-alone album can be challenging; and "Schächten" is by no means a typical listening experience. The record contains 24 more or less short pieces evolving through dramatic movements, underlaying menace and deep emotive scenes. One thing that stands out is the linear atmosphere throughout the story which creates a wholeness that keeps your attention to the very end. Set in wintery Austrian landscapes in dimly saturated colours, the film's dramatic events with dark political undertones feels like a perfect situation for Skodvin's atmospheric collages - perhaps sounding closer than ever to his early works as Svarte Greiner or Deaf Center. Cello, violin, piano, analogue synth and plenty of hardly recognizable instrumentation come together in a record that feels very organic in its subdued tones. The score also features percussion by Andrea Belfi as well as a Chopin piano interpretation by Kelly Wyse to the bizarrely schizophrenic piece "Judenfreund".

With the contemporary world sliding into darkness again, listening to the soundtrack feels like coming to terms with ones own anxieties - something that in the end comes through as a cleansing experience. As quoted in the film "Everyone is their own devil. And we make this world our hell".

Short synopsis : "Vienna 1960s - The young Jewish business man Victor has to witness how the prosecution of a Nazi crime against his family fails. The political and legal system is still virtually run by former Nazis with large parts of society being entangled in the past. When Victor also loses his grief ridden father and his girlfriend’s family opposes their relationship and his identity, Victor begins to loose faith in formal justice and takes matters in his own hands."

The Complete Piano Etudes of Philip Glass available for the first time on vinyl, housed in a 4LP Box set (also available as a 2CD format).



After more than thirty years of working with and performing the great repertoire, the music of Philip Glass has, in a way, almost revolutionized my life as a musician,” confides Vanessa Wagner.

An emblematic artist on the French music scene, winner of a Victoire de la musique award and director of the Chambord and Giverny festivals, Vanessa Wagner is as inspired in her interpretation of Mozart, Debussy, Tchaikovsky and Dusapin as she is alongside Murcof and Rone.

With her innovative and daring approach, she has established herself as a major influence on the classical music landscape, crossing boundaries and blazing inspiring trails.

A tireless pioneer of new repertoires, she has been exploring the repertoire of minimalist composers for several years. For InFiné, she has dedicated 4 albums to the major figures of this movement, John Adams, Meredith Monk, Brian Eno, Ryūichi Sakamoto, as well as to the new generation Caroline Shaw, Bryce Dessner and Nico Muhly.

After giving numerous concerts based on these works, she felt the need to record in their entirety this essential monument in the history of music, which bridges the gap between the 20th and 21st centuries: Philip Glass's 20 Etudes for piano
by Philip Glass.
His approach helps to place these two books in the great repertoire, alongside the great cycles of studies by Ligeti, Debussy, Dusapin, and before them, Chopin and Liszt.

Philip Glass was born in 1937 and grew up in Baltimore. He studied at the University of Chicago, the Juilliard School and in Aspen with Darius Milhaud. Dissatisfied with much of what was then considered modern music, he moved to Europe, where he studied with the legendary pedagogue Nadia Boulanger (who also taught Aaron Copland, Virgil Thomson and Quincy Jones) and worked closely with sitar virtuoso and composer Ravi Shankar.

The thread linking Philip Glass to Vanessa Wagner may be as simple as a detail: a moment, a pedagogy, a way of looking at the piano. In Words Without Music, Glass recalls his apprenticeship with Nadia Boulanger in Paris - a lesson in rigorous received just as the Nouvelle Vague was about to shatter the conventions of cinema the conventions of cinema, just as the composers of the minimalist movement had done with with the language of music. Nurtured by Ravel and Debussy, the great French pedagogue disciplined yet inquisitive minds, capable of embracing modernity without denying modernity without denying their heritage.

An extremely rare Northern Soul 45 RPM single originally released in 1965 on the Holly label, Billy Arnell And The Sparkles "Tough Girl" was the product of two childhood friends that lived less than a block apart in suburban Fairlawn, New Jersey in the early 1960s - Billy Smith and Lou Hemsey.

Billy played guitar and sang; Lou played guitar and wrote songs, so they decided to form a band. They added friends Eddie Hoffman on organ and Jack Gullone on drums and began playing lots of gigs locally as Little Willie & The Sparkles. They were young, ambitious, and imagined themselves as the next Beatles. By a stroke of fate, they met Joe Martin of Apex-Martin Distributors in Newark, NJ, who caught the band's live show and was duly impressed. That meeting led to the recording session for the "Tough Girl" single. When they recorded the first version of the song, the producer wasn't happy, nor was Joe Martin - so he fired that producer and brought in the young, up and coming producer, George Kerr. Kerr didn't care much for the band, so they redid the entire thing without Hoffman and Guilone - with just Billy singing and Lou playing guitar.

The pair of old friends were buoyed by session aces Eric Gale on guitar, Bernard Purdie on drums, Bobbie Banks on organ, as well as a bass player whose name has been lost to time. In addition to those changes, they used the studio horn section that Hemsey arranged for, plus two trumpets, two saxes and two vibes players. The resulting single was an infectious amalgamation of rock and soul. Billy changed his surname to Arnell for the 45 release (because he thought it sounded more "show-biz") and the rest is pop history. Arnell later started a record company (Fire Sign Records) and purchased a recording studio (112 Greene Street Recording) in the trendy SoHo section of Manhattan with Steve Loeb.

As for the rest of The Sparkles, Hoffman became a teacher somewhere on Long Island, Guilone graduated from the Culinary Institute of America in Massachusetts and ended up living in Northern New Jersey. Hemsey became a well-known recording engineer, composer (Lou was the one who wrote "Tough Girl"), guitarist, arranger, orchestrator, editor, film director and producer for records and commercials.

Following a wildly successful first release, Risk/Reward returns with an outstanding EP from Bizarre Trax bossman and Felon5 member Jhobei, featuring a remix from UK electro royalty Carl Finlow no less!

Digitaria combines a groovy organ bass with psychedelic synths and progressive elements, to create a dancefloor-focused, trance-inducing bomb, guaranteed to get crowds of all sizes moving. Trippy, hypnotic but always playful, the perfect track to bring the energy up in the room.

A monster bassline, punchy drums and dreamy pads make Thinking Nodes a versatile tool, equally at home early in the night or deep into the after hours. Classic UKG swing meets deep house, plus a sprinkling of rave elements go into the recipe, making a tasty treat for DJs and collectors alike.

Beatagroove Funk see's Jhobei channel his inner Random Factor, to create an Electro House ripper, with quirky vocals, glitchy synths, a bassline straight out of a 80s new wave banger and enough drive in the drums to make this a peak time weapon.

Carl Finlow delivers an epic masterpiece on the remix of Beatagroove Funk, creating a work of sheer beauty that sounds like a blissful sunset cruise on a hover bike through a futuristic metropolis. Unexplainably detailed and emotional, this is the work of a true master of his craft and will surely go on to be recognized as some of his very best work - simply unmissable!

With heavy support from Tini, Harry McCanna, Anna Wall, Rich NxT, Voigtmann and more, Jhobei's star seems destined to keep rising, as Risk/Reward continues to establish itself as a must buy label.

Unknown Waveforms is the forthcoming album from Belgian trio KAU, set for release on October 10, 2025. Marking an evolution since their 2023 release The Cycle Repeats, this new record captures a more personal, immediate, and unfiltered version of the band's sound. In an increasingly digital world, KAU takes a different route, with an album rooted in human connection, live energy, and creative spontaneity. Here, the trio reflect their take on instrumental music, drawing heavily fromjazz, hip hop, and electronic influences.

At the heart of Unknown Waveforms lies the starting point of three musicians in a room, writing and composing music on the spot. For KAU, this idea mirrors their working method: long jam sessions, free-flowing experimentation, and shared moments of inspiration. Songs often take shape slowly, unfolding over hours or days, but always built collaboratively as a trio.

The album's title reflects the mystery behind how music comes together, but is also both literal and symbolic. Unknown waveforms are the sounds that arise when machines and people interact in unpredictable ways. Whether you're an experienced musician or just starting out, the creative process often feels elusive and hard to fully understand. But there are also certain moments: creative sparks that can't be planned or programmed. It ends up being more than notes, gear, or structure, it's about the process, the tension and energy that builds when people connect and create in the same room.

The title track, Unknown Waveforms, captures that exact process. It opens with a quote from synth pioneer Wendy Carlos: "I'm just trying to show you how we get some of these sounds", inviting listeners directly into the creative space. The track focuses less on a polished outcome and more on the moment before a song is "finished": it's a portrait of experimentation, feeling, and raw expression.

This commitment to honesty permeates the entire album. KAU kept overdubs to a minimum, avoided excessive editing, and prioritized spontaneous choices over calculated ones. In a time when the future of live, improvised music feels uncertain, they double down on the physical, the real, and the immediate. The album resists the pristine polish of modern production, favoring the warmth and imperfection of analog synthesis. The band embraces the character of their instruments, particularly vintage gear, where subtle flaws add beauty, depth, and personality.

One standout track, cr_eye, is driven by the Moog Subphatty-a key instrument in the band's toolkit for its analog warmth and powerful sub-bass. The track centers around the conversation between bass and drums, allowing the keyboards to recede and create space. It draws emotional threads from earlier KAU tracks like Kampala and Kautokeino, bridging past and present with a shared atmosphere and rhythmic interplay.

Another highlight, Stratford, finds inspiration in London's transport system and the UK jazz scene that has long influenced KAU. A field recording snippet of the London Underground kicks off the track, connecting it to the rhythm of everyday commutes. Built around a hypnotic sequencer line from the Roland JX-3P, the track evokes the motion of a metro journey. Artists like Nubya Garcia, Yussef Dayes, and Alfa Mist, giants of the scenethat the band has admired for years, resonate subtly throughout.

Above all, Unknown Waveforms is a statement of intent from KAU: a celebration of imperfection, creative honesty and an insight in the process.