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"I want nothing more than to be a loner," Emily Kempf sings early on Flower of Devotion, the new album by Chicago trio Dehd. It's a startling admission coming from a songwriter who, just a year ago on Dehd's critically acclaimed Water, wrote eloquently about the joys and pains _ more than anything, the necessity _ of love, compassion, and companionship. But then, "admission" isn't really the right word here, given the stridency of Kempf's tone. "Loner" is a declaration. The record ups the ante on Dehd's sound & filters in just enough polish to bring out the shining and melancholy undertones in Jason Balla and Emily Kempf's songwriting, even as it captures them at their most strident. Balla's guitar lines at times flirt with ticklish cosmic country, while at others they reflect the dark marble sounds of Broadcast. Kempf, meanwhile, establishes herself as a singer of incredible expressive range, pinching into a high lonesome wail, letting loose a chirping "ooh!," pushing her voice below its breaking point and letting it swing down there. When she and Balla bounce descending counter-melodies off one another over McGrady's one-two thumps, or skitter off over a programmed drum pad, they sound like The B-52s shaking off heartache. What makes Flower of Devotion so impressive is how its creation seems to have strengthened its creators, both as individuals and as a unit, even as they've stared down their own limitations. It's also striking just how much fun they seem to be having in the process. "It's okay to be lighthearted in the face of despair," Kempf says. It's a theme that runs through the album, from the opening back-and-forth build of "Desire" to the click-clacking chorus of "Haha," which finds them deflating their own history. Flower of Devotion was recorded in April and August of 2019 in Chicago. It will be released on Fire Talk Records on July 17th 2020.

French artist based in Brussels, Che Vuoi presents her first album Cinecittàx, a nod to the great Italian studio, and a tribute to false dreams.

A theatre at the back of a run-down piano bar, where surreal and intimate scenes unfold; words and stories drawn from disparate sources: Fellini, G. Réal, Diderot... or written by herself, spoken, shouted or barely whispered by an altered voice.


Noises, samples, a drum machine, a brush on a snare drum, a piano spinning round and round until it reaches delirium and its own abolition, leaving us suspended in a constant in-between or a time that never truly existed.



« This voice, gentle, mad, with lightning verve, tells between the lines and the echoes the presence of threatening shadows and ghosts. And it is Che Vuoi, her character, her world of images, that haunts us. It is a strange bewitchment that carries us beyond the words she has freed from "the stationery I stole from Bellavista the other night" ("le papier à lettre que j’ai chipé au Bellavista l’autre soir") into the lair of her universe, as whimsical as it is silky in which we let ourselves slip, as one would slip over the rock of an esoteric river, in the heart of a forest that makes music and has delirious things to tell us. »

Underground mainstay and long-time melodic and progressive champion Guy Gerber is back on his own Rumors label with Every Time We Say Goodbye, a new EP that shows he continues to evolve his style without forgetting his signature.

Gerber has been a core part of the underground for years, heading the world's most revered clubs and festivals, bringing all new party concepts to Ibiza and serving up serene and synth heavy soundscape that move people physically and emotionally on labels like Cocoon, Italians Do It Better and of course Rumors.

Every Time We Say Goodbye (feat. Blanca) is light and melodic with shimmering pads and ethereal textures. Blanca’s treated vocals float effortlessly above rolling percussion and delicate synth melodies, delivering a warm, emotional energy that feels both modern and timeless.
The 18th Floor is a hypnotic journey built on dubby low-end grooves and fluid, meandering leads. Angelic, reverb-soaked vocal fragments drift through the mix, giving the track a dreamlike atmosphere that’s equally suited for peak-time or deeper, introspective moments.

On the flip is Under the same Moon, an introspective journey through deep emotion and atmospheric house. Under the same Moon is a sonic meditation, melancholic yet hopeful, with textures that evoke twilight memories and introspective dancefloor, lastly The Bigger Person takes a more laid-back approach, driven by warm guitar lines that showcase Guy’s instrumental finesse.

US Black Friday 2025 Release. There are very few albums in the psych/punk/hard rock/private presses strata that garner the sort of universal awe and accolades that Fraction’s almighty Moonblood LP does, and even fewer records in the world that could be dubbed ‘Christian Rock’ incur such fierce devotion. Indeed some records just meteorically lift themselves out any genre tag with brilliance and sheer defiance--and Moonblood is surely one of them. Based in LA, Fraction was a ragged collection of working-class musicians--the line-up was ringleader Jim Beach--vocals; Don Swanson--lead guitar, Curt Swanson--drums, Victor Hemme--bass, and Robert Meinel--rhythm guitar. Beach himself describes those early days: “The guys met through various acquaintances that we had in LA. All of us had been in bands before, but were seeking something with more teeth. We had a small studio in an industrial complex in North Hollywood and started practicing sometimes as early as 4:30 AM. We all had day jobs, so we did what we could.”

Amazingly the recording sessions for the album were recorded similarly on the fly, as Beach further states: “The Moonblood recording took place at Whitney’s Studio in Glendale, CA, early in 1971. On a strict budget, these songs were recorded in less than three hours—all of them “one takes.” We played, all 5 of us, simultaneously-- there were no studio effects, no overdubbing or any additional sound effects added. Basically what you hear is considered ‘old school’ recording.”

This workmanlike description in no way prepares one for the pure tortured genius the session wrought. Particularly noteworthy is Beach’s vocals—as commonly stated, the spirit of Jim Morrison is conjured in his deep baritone, which gives way to unparalleled pained howls, at times bathed in delay which trails into the abyss. Fascinatingly enough, Beach cites the much punker Love as his fave LA band over the Doors, and also gives influence-nods to proto-everything rockers The Yardbirds and to Dylan, whose dark word tapestries surely inspired Beach’s lyrics (though lines from The Doors’ “L’America” pop up on the LP) Whatever the case, the man clearly has a vision, as even the stark sleeve concept is Beach’s own. Equally as integral to the Fraction sound is lead guitarist Don Swanson—his blown-out fuzz riffs set a template for what is now commonly known as “stoner rock” or “acid punk,” and his solos consist of jagged, wah-wah-ed shards of notes, with his amplifier clearly pushed to the limit.

Beach says: “Don’s guitar was always my driving force and he did everything he could to keep it over the top. You’d never know that (his sound) was coming from an old, broken down Esquire. Don kept it alive!” The other members contributions shouldn’t be underappreciated though-- drummer Curt Swanson keeps things at a constant simmer, and then boils over when the whole band launches into snarling glory. The band and LP as a whole equals something indescribably intense from start to finish—comparisons to the Detroit late 60s high-energy bands like The Stooges and MC5 abound, as well as the sort of late 60s damaged spirit lurking in biker clubs and disgruntled Vietnam vets. The song cycle on side 1 of the LP in particular cuts to the emotional core, with severely charged dark lyrics like “Extend your thumbs and burn the darkness out of her.” Which brings us to the Christian aspect--it often can confuse listeners. The Fraction/Beach world of religion is complex and perhaps a bit pagan/sinister than most---fire and brimstone, temptation, and the truth-seeker being burned by this hell on earth—or perhaps as Beach himself best put it: “Speaking for myself, as a believer, it’s been a progressive experience since my childhood.

I think we’re all basically driven to live more than religion.” The album was pressed in a run of but a few hundred to little attention in the day, but now inferior bootlegs flood the marketplace, and originals of Moonblood command thousands of dollars. So enjoy this all-inclusive reissue, which also features for the first time on vinyl, 3 lost tracks-- like the more acoustic-minded “prisms” and “dawning light,” as well as the proto-metal choogle of “Intercessor’s Blues.”

»Chronotopia« is the second album by composer-performer Elisabeth Klinck. After collaborating closely with artist Oscar Claus to blend her violin playing with electronic soundscapes and field recordings on her 2023 debut Picture a Frame (Hallow Ground), Belgian electroacoustic artist Elisabeth Klinck now turns inward. On Chronotopia, she takes a more song-oriented approach, embracing her voice as a vital counterpart to her violin, intertwining their sounds like threads in a dynamic, multicolored fabric. The record marks an essential turning point in her artistic evolution and opens up a rich internal world. It is a tapestry of sound, emotion, and curiosity spun from—both literally and figuratively—her growing voice.Klinck, who works as a composer and performer in theater, wrote the pieces between tours and recorded the album in the same place as its predecessor, the Spanish Pyrenees. Though the outside world isn’t as explicitly reflected in the recordings as it was the case on »Picture a Frame,« her sophomore album responds to the outside world by capturing both the expansive serenity of the mountains and the frenetic pulse of life on the road. Eschewing her previous, more atmospheric and abstract approach, Klinck creates a landscape that is built on the song and filled with intimacy. Her music feels at once vulnerable and deeply human, balancing the rawness of improvisation with the careful precision of melody-led composition.Klinck describes »Chronotopia« as a playful exploration of time—its fluidity, its constraints, and its influence on how we navigate the world. These notions reverberate through her melodies and lyrics, which dance between moments of shimmering clarity and messy, beautiful chaos. These contrasts are further accentuated by the cunning interplay of voice and violin, which itself reflects the artist’s fascination with duality and transformation. Recorded in both organic and controlled environments, »Chronotopia« blurs the lines between intuition and design. The »time space« into which Klinck invites her audience is a place where sound becomes touch, time bends like light, and every moment carries the thrill of discovery

Zum 20-jährigen Jubiläum ihres ikonischen Debütalbums Silent Alarm veröffentlichen Bloc Party drei limitierte Jubiläumsformate: eine 2LP auf weißem Vinyl mit dem original Album, eine 2CD Edition mit dem original Album und Bonus Discs, welche Demos, B-Sides und eine BBC Peel Session beinhalten. Außerdem ist ein 12-seitiges Booklet inkl. Lines Notes und einem Vorwort von Produzent Paul Epworth. Die Deluxe-Box umfasst alle oben erwähnte als 4LP Set. 2LP für das original Album und 2LP für die Bonustracks und Raritäten sowie Demos und Sessions. Wobei es hier ein 24-seitiges Booklet mit noch nie veröffentlichten Fotos der Band und exklusive Liner-Notes gibt. Ein Muss für Fans und Sammler gleichermaßen.
White Vinyl

Ian Elms’s cult isolationist synth masterpiece Good Night returns via Dark Entries. Originally released in 1982, Good Night blends Berlin school minimalism and BBC Radiophonic weirdness with the aesthetics of then-nascent DIY punk electronics throughout its fifteen short tracks. According to Elms, these pieces were composed in two broad but interrelated modes: pieces with voice and synthesizer, which are obliquely narrative, and instrumental synthesizer pieces that aspire to capture fleeting emotions. Ian met with producer David Hoser at Octopus Studios and they began constructing pieces using a Polymoog Keyboard 280a, sampled drum tracks, and Elms’s synthesizer. On “The Street Enters the House”, live drums lurch along with skeletal motifs while Elms’s elliptical lyrics evoke domestic discontent. “A Light Moves Across Curtains” features metronomic pummeling and icy strings buttressing the scant cryptic lines from Elms. Instrumental gems like “Goodnight” and “Surrounded by Trees” are built around detuned riffs in round-like structure, both drifting and static like the motion of waves. With original pressings fetching three digits – if you can even find a copy – this reissue is essential listening for fans of John Bender, Transparent Illusion, and the early 80’s DIY cassette scene. Each copy of Good Night comes with a postcard featuring a photograph and notes by Elms. “This record is intended for anyone who by accident or design spends most of their time alone (whether in the body or in the mind).” – Ian Elms.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

Kyoko Koizumi, aka Kyon Kyon or Kyon², was one of the most popular and best selling pop idols through the 80s & 90s and on this album, thanks to the vision of Haruo Chikada as a producer, an unlikely combination of her vocals with the burgeoning sonics of house music takes place to great effect. What must have seemed like a cultural anomaly to contemporary audiences, particularly so early into the canon of house music (this record saw the light of day in 1989), we can now retrospectively recognise that not only does this album succeed as a snapshot of the musical zeitgeist of the time - it also predicted the unification of house & dance music with commercial pop sensibilities that has remained in the culture in the decades since. However, what is happening sonically on this record goes beyond anything disposable or vapid that might come to mind when one thinks of Pop forays into house music - we are served up menacing acid lines, hip-house rhythms and even some digi-dub excursions

Following Volume 1, this second instalment of Classic’s 30th Anniversary series dives even deeper into the label’s visionary, genre-bending catalogue—balancing pioneering remixes, cult favourites, and future classics.

Once again, this 2x12” release is beautifully presented in a raw reverse board sleeve, a tactile nod to Classic’s earliest releases. Inside, are deep teal and green GMUND card stock inner sleeves with embossed detailing elevate the package into a collector’s item worthy of the music it holds.

Record One opens with one of the most revered remixes in house history. Isolee’s ‘Beau Mot Plage’ (Freeform Reform Parts 1 & 2), originally licensed from Germany’s Playhouse and lovingly reworked by Freeform Five’s Anu Pillai with a live ensemble. It’s a sprawling, euphoric journey that helped define Classic’s international reach and is still widely regarded as one of the greatest house records ever pressed.

Up next is Greenskeepers’ off-kilter banger ‘Bang in Your Face?’, showcasing the quirky, ‘G-swing’ sound for which James Curd and his crew became known for during their long-standing relationship with the label.

On the flip, Pépé Bradock’s jaw-dropping rework of Iz & Diz’s ‘Mouth’ takes center stage—a remix composed entirely from human sounds, equal parts sensual and surreal. Universally praised, it’s a masterclass in sonic innovation and remains one of the most acclaimed house remixes of all time.

The side closes with Markus Nikolai’s beloved ‘Bushes’, The First Re-Creation (Version 1.2) by Classic co founder Derrick Carter—a distinctive and maximalist edit that draws out the Latin horns, strings, and quirky vocals, turning a cult hit into a distinctly ‘Classic’ anthem.

Record Two captures Classic’s renewed energy in the 2010s.

Folamour’s ‘Devoted To U’ from his Umami LP is a 10-minute odyssey in groove—warm, progressive, and cinematic, with soaring piano lines and narrative richness.

Then comes Crazy P’s ‘One True Light’, shimmering with spacey textures, cosmic energy, and the deep, effortless groove the band has perfected over decades.

On Side D, we have Girls of the Internet’s lush and emotionally rich ‘When U Go’, blending soulful vocals with clean, spacious production that balances melancholy with movement.

Closing out Volume 2 is Sophie Lloyd’s now iconic ‘Calling Out’, featuring the unstoppable vocal force of Dames Brown. A modern gospel-disco-house anthem, the track glows with raw energy, live instrumentation, and spiritual fire—cementing its place as one of Classic’s defining moments of the last decade.




d B2. Markus Nikolai - Bushes (Derrick Carter's First Re-Creation) Version 1.2




d B2. Markus Nikolai - Bushes (Derrick Carter's First Re-Creation) Version 1.2




d B2. Markus Nikolai - Bushes (Derrick Carter's First Re-Creation) Version 1.2




d B2. Markus Nikolai - Bushes (Derrick Carter's First Re-Creation) Version 1.2




d B2. Markus Nikolai - Bushes (Derrick Carter's First Re-Creation) Version 1.2

On their new album The Besnard Lakes are the Ghost Nation, Montreal’s The Besnard Lakes return with their post-rock psych; but this time around, with a lightness and optimism at play.

Unique among their furrowed brow peers, The Besnard Lakes are unafraid to marry textured, questing headphone sonics to the honeyed pleasure of radio hits past: the rapture of My Bloody Valentine entwined with the romance of Fleetwood Mac. Imagine dreamy Beach House riding Led Zeppelin dynamics, with unabashedly androgynous vocal harmonies; a melodic yet mountainous sound world.

In a crowded leaderboard of their own making, The Besnard Lakes are the Ghost Nation might just be their best album yet; a strive for hope when it is needed most.

Italian producer, musician, DJ, and groove architect Sam Ruffillo drops his long-awaited debut album Tipo Così on Toy Tonics – a sun-drenched, genre-blurring statement that blends classic house with Mediterranean flair, romantic funk, and tongue-in-cheek Italo vibes. Over 11 expertly crafted tracks, Ruffillo delivers a dancefloor-ready, emotionally rich LP that connects deep musicality with irresistible rhythm and light-hearted elegance.

After three acclaimed EPs and collaborations with revered artists such as Barbara Boeing, Kapote, and Fimiani, Ruffillo has firmly cemented himself as a core artist on the Berlin-based label. Known for his unmistakable signature sound — a warm mix of vintage disco, 90s house, and Italian vocals — Sam’s music has garnered widespread DJ support from tastemakers like Gerd Janson, Palms Trax, Seth Troxler, and DJ Tennis, while becoming a staple on Italian airwaves. His infectious summer anthems like Danza Organica and Perfetta Così have soundtracked countless club nights and festivals, creating a loyal following that eagerly awaited this full-length debut.

Tipo Così is the natural culmination of a musical journey that’s both playful and profound — a travel diary written in grooves, synth stabs, and melodies that feel like postcards from a parallel Mediterranean universe. The album expands and deepens Ruffillo’s world into a fully immersive experience: lush emotional chords meet tight syncopated grooves, vintage synth textures collide with irresistibly catchy pop refrains, and the boundary between sincerity and playful irony is exquisitely blurred.

Entirely written, produced, and recorded in Italy, in his beloved hometown of Bologna, the album finds Ruffillo at the helm on keys, drum machines, and production, supported by a talented cast of musicians contributing live bass, guitar, and other organic elements — further enriching his trademark fusion of electronic grooves and natural instrumentation. There’s a tactile warmth in these tracks, a hands-on feel that adds soul and depth to every beat.

This album also marks Ruffillo’s heartfelt return to singing in Italian, with standout tracks like House Tipo Così, Mi Fa Volare, Ancora, and Dentro Di Me, where romantic naïveté meets pulsing club energy in a way that feels both timeless and refreshingly new. The vocal performances add an intimate, human touch to the music, reinforcing the personal stories woven into each song. There’s poetry in the casual, a bittersweet elegance in the way the lyrics float over groove-heavy production.

Having toured extensively across Europe, Australia, Indonesia, New Zealand, and Mexico — with sets at iconic venues like Panorama Bar and festivals such as Sónar Barcelona — Ruffillo has fine-tuned much of this album in front of live audiences. The real-world testing ground infused the record with a dynamic energy and immediacy that only comes from genuine crowd interaction. These songs weren’t just made in the studio — they were lived on dancefloors around the world.

Tipo Così is not just a collection of tracks. It’s a philosophy — playful, stylish and unmistakably personal. A modern club album bursting with heartfelt emotion and sophistication. Music for dancers with taste; for lovers of beauty, rhythm, and the little imperfections that make things feel real.

But what exactly is Tipo Così? More than just a phrase, it’s a way of being. It’s about embracing elegance without effort, mixing irony with sincerity, and letting nostalgia slip into the room without taking over the party. It’s Sam Ruffillo’s signature language: relaxed, confident, meticulous yet never rigid — where a chord progression can say as much as a lyric, and every beat carries intention.

The album’s visual identity complements this vision perfectly. The artwork and promotional materials lovingly reference Italian design from the ’80s and ’90s, combining bold graphic elements with playful pop culture nods. This aesthetic mirrors Ruffillo’s music — a fusion of vintage warmth and contemporary freshness, delivered with authenticity and charm.

Sam Ruffillo belongs to a new generation of European artists who are reshaping electronic music by blending past and present, analog and digital, groove and emotion — without nostalgia or pose. His artistic universe is coherent, vibrant, and alive; a rich tapestry of sound, images, and stories that coexist with lightness, precision, and a distinctive voice.

Reflecting on his artistic journey, Sam describes music as a vital, deeply human impulse — a tribal connection to rhythm and body that has driven him since he was a teenager. His creative process balances meticulous planning with room for spontaneity, usually sparked by clear melodic ideas that evolve naturally. Collaborations with close friends, especially vocalists like Ninfa, add warmth and authenticity, exemplified in tracks like “House Tipo Così.” For Sam, music is honest self-expression — crafted for listeners who crave memorable melodies and rhythms imbued with genuine feeling.

While technical perfection is tempting, Sam prioritizes emotion, knowing that what truly resonates is the soul behind the sounds. His long-standing partnership with Toy Tonics has been key in nurturing his vision, offering a blend of creative freedom and professional support. Looking ahead, Sam Ruffillo is excited to broaden his live performances, and release new projects that continue to blend electronic grooves with organic, heartfelt sounds — maintaining the delicate balance between playful irony and sincere emotion that defines Tipo Così.




Kurzversion:
Italian DJ, producer and musician Sam Ruffillo drops his debut album Tipo Così on Toy Tonics - a sunny blend of house, funk, Italo and pop, full of groove and emotion. Written and recorded in Bologna with live instruments and Italian vocals, it’s a playful, elegant journey shaped on dancefloors worldwide. A stylish, sincere club album where nostalgia, irony and rhythm meet in perfect harmony.

- Mi Fa Volare
Road-tested across continents and now finally released, “Mi Fa Volare” channels 90s uplifting euphoria with big breakbeats, lush chords, and Italian vocals built to stick. Somewhere between balearic bliss and piano house nostalgia, it’s a feel-good club weapon made for peak-time moments - already sung back by crowds after just one listen.


- Ancora
“Ancora” is a vibrant hi-NRG track inspired by 80s Italo disco, sung entirely in Italian. It blends driving rhythms with dreamy melodies, capturing the radiant spirit of the decade. This fresh yet nostalgic song delivers euphoric vibes and timeless energy, making it a perfect fit for both dancefloors and reflective listening moments worldwide.


- Dentro Di Me
“Dentro Di Me” channels ‘90s sensuality through a fast-paced, UK house-inspired lens. Entirely in Italian, it’s a bold and contemporary dance track where hypnotic vocals meet high-energy grooves. Blending nostalgic textures with forward-thinking production, the result is a seductive and euphoric trip - equal parts emotional and club-ready.


- Amigo
“Amigo” blends Latin groove, acoustic guitar-driven rhythm, and Mediterranean flair into a warm, magnetic, cross-cultural dance anthem. Sung in Spanish and Italian, it celebrates connection, inclusivity, and the joy of moving together - whether stranger or friend. With its unstoppable rhythm and vibrant energy, it’s a feel-good track with a unifying spirit.


- Ma Sei Fuori
“Ma Sei Fuori” is a tongue-in-cheek dancefloor bomb blending raw house energy with catchy vocal phrases and a nod to classic French touch. Driven by hypnotic vocal lines and a playful attitude, it doesn’t take itself too seriously - while still proving serious club impact. Built for late-night moments, it’s bold, bouncy, and impossible to ignore.

Ruby Rushton"s fifth studio album Legacy! written by band leader Tenderlonious and keys player Aidan Shepherd, marks a new chapter for the hugely influential UK jazz group. In the past the band - which also includes trumpeter Nick Walters and drummer Tim Carnegie - worked with a "one take" live approach; avoiding the use of overdubs. For Legacy! the four musicians decided to combine their virtuosic abilities with Tenderlonious" studio production skills. Each of the compositions sees layers of horn and flute lines added to the melodies on top of the original live takes. The result is impressive; the listener is left with a wider sonic spectrum than previously heard on Ruby Rushton albums.

On their new album The Besnard Lakes are the Ghost Nation, Montreal’s The Besnard Lakes return with their post-rock psych; but this time around, with a lightness and optimism at play.

Unique among their furrowed brow peers, The Besnard Lakes are unafraid to marry textured, questing headphone sonics to the honeyed pleasure of radio hits past: the rapture of My Bloody Valentine entwined with the romance of Fleetwood Mac. Imagine dreamy Beach House riding Led Zeppelin dynamics, with unabashedly androgynous vocal harmonies; a melodic yet mountainous sound world.

In a crowded leaderboard of their own making, The Besnard Lakes are the Ghost Nation might just be their best album yet; a strive for hope when it is needed most.

Our second vinyl release comes from within the house. Juan Ferreyra, co-founder of Easy Latino Records, drops his debut EP on the label: I didn’t buy my Dr Märtens.

True to his style, Juan doesn’t take production or himself too seriously — and that playfulness shines through these four tracks. Playful vocals, deep grooves, heavy bass lines and timeless melodies come together in lighthearted, summer-ready cuts made for the dancefloor. Pure fun, no pretension. Run fast, they won’t last.

LTD. CLEAR BLUE VINYL

New York painter and musician exploratory industrialist Tor Lundvall initially envisioned his 14th album, Beautiful Illusions, as an entirely instrumental affair, "inspired by memories of sitting in a church or cathedral watching the shifting sunlight through stained glass." Although he ultimately chose to wreath the majority of the tracks with hushed, poetic vocals, his original muse still resonates. These are certainly songs of shadowplay and vaulted skies, the quiet grandeur of dusk deepening on the horizon. Lundvall characterizes the lyrical subject matter, too, in ways both specific and surreal, exploring "the doubts, the anxieties and even the bleak fantasies the mind spirals into during moments of isolation, separation and distance." Tricks of the eye, mind, and ear, magnified by silence and the looming long winter. Shivering pulses and muted bass lines tread the twilight while icicle synths and wiry guitar map the melody until the voice enters, narrating oblique moods of essence and absence, tenderness and truth. Glimpses of dark humor flicker in the wordplay but the greater sonic landscape is one of falling leaves and failing light, small gestures rendered as revelation, cloaked in reverb and spatial fog. Lundvall's mastery of nuance and negative space continues to heighten, whispered brushstrokes of the invisible and the unsaid, what lies beneath and what lies beyond: "Behind the shields and false fronts is usually a sadness. The heartbreaking reflections of what might have been."

For a decade now, BAD SUNS have thrived in the sweet spot between indie rock polish and modern alt-pop energy, crafting a sound that feels both urgent and timeless. Accelerator, their fifth studio album, doesn"t just refine that identity-it pushes it into new territory. Stratocasters shimmer through overdriven Vox amps, synths surge like late-night city lights, and the rhythm section pulses with a restless, undeniable energy. It"s a record that doesn"t just move; it commands attention. The band"s evolution has been constant. Since their early days cutting their teeth on tours with Halsey and The 1975, Bad Suns have spent the past two years stretching their reach across genre lines, proving their versatility at major festivals and iconic venues. Whether electrifying Red Rocks alongside All Time Low, opening for Angels & Airwaves, or winning over Finneas" pop-leaning crowd on their 2025 U.S. run, they"ve made a case for themselves as a band without borders. Helmed once again by longtime collaborator Eric Palmquist (MUTEMATH, Thrice) at Palmquist Studios, Accelerator feels like the band"s most conceptually realized work to date. Its 12 tracks unfold with cinematic ambition, balancing airtight hooks with an emotional resonance that shifts depending on how you approach them. It"s an album that doesn"t just sit in the background-it begs to be experienced.

Froid Dub continues to explore its synth-lined slowed down digi-dub cave flooded with waves of echoes and acid bleeps. From begging to end, bass lines and flanged delays sail over deep waters, seemingly barely disturbed by the minimal pump of the synth-wave track Not Loved.

Best of' albums are invariably repackaged collections of old recordings, so Vice Squad's `Punk Rockers' is a breath of fresh air The songs have been lovingly recorded and remastered, keeping all the original fire and adding decades of experience gained from punishing tours and continuous songwriting Beki is the original architect of the songs and the Vice Squad name, and she is the sole surviving member of the original lineup to have continued as a full-time musician Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious `If I Knew What I Know Now' and `The World Is Wrong' are examples of Vice Squad's ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, `Battle of Britain', showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent `If I Knew What I Know Now', followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister `Out of Reach'. Next up is the visceral `Get A Life', an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic `Resurrection'. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of `Allergy' underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime `Sniffing Glue', a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. `Ordinary Girl' is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. `The World Is Wrong' is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It's always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, `Citizen', and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal `Scarred For Life'. `Voice of the People' is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, `Freedom of speech is against the law; now we're all criminals,' snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. `Punk Police' sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, `Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,' call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, `Humane', and I'm struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome 'Spitfire' takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into `Born In A War', the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the `Last Rockers', the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.'

Best of' albums are invariably repackaged collections of old recordings, so Vice Squad's `Punk Rockers' is a breath of fresh air The songs have been lovingly recorded and remastered, keeping all the original fire and adding decades of experience gained from punishing tours and continuous songwriting Beki is the original architect of the songs and the Vice Squad name, and she is the sole surviving member of the original lineup to have continued as a full-time musician Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious `If I Knew What I Know Now' and `The World Is Wrong' are examples of Vice Squad's ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, `Battle of Britain', showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent `If I Knew What I Know Now', followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister `Out of Reach'. Next up is the visceral `Get A Life', an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic `Resurrection'. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of `Allergy' underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime `Sniffing Glue', a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. `Ordinary Girl' is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. `The World Is Wrong' is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It's always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, `Citizen', and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal `Scarred For Life'. `Voice of the People' is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, `Freedom of speech is against the law; now we're all criminals,' snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. `Punk Police' sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, `Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,' call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, `Humane', and I'm struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome 'Spitfire' takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into `Born In A War', the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the `Last Rockers', the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.'

Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious ‘If I Knew What I Know Now’ and ‘The World Is Wrong’ are examples of Vice Squad’s ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, ‘Battle of Britain’, showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent ‘If I Knew What I Know Now’, followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister ‘Out of Reach’. Next up is the visceral ‘Get A Life’, an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic ‘Resurrection’. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of ‘Allergy’ underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime ‘Sniffing Glue’, a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. ‘Ordinary Girl’ is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. ‘The World Is Wrong’ is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It’s always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, ‘Citizen’, and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal ‘Scarred For Life’. ‘Voice of the People’ is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, ‘Freedom of speech is against the law; now we’re all criminals,’ snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. ‘Punk Police’ sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, ‘Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,’ call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, ‘Humane’, and I’m struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome ’Spitfire’ takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into ‘Born In A War’, the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the ‘Last Rockers’, the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.' The four bonus CD tracks kick off with ‘Coward’, another teen Bateman/Bond composition. ‘No You Don’t’ is just over two minutes of vocal acrobatics over a Dexedrine-driven Devo-esque chord sequence, and the frantically brilliant ‘I Dare To Breathe’ from ‘Battle of Britain’ continues the aural assault. Then the final sombre entreaty of ‘You Can’t Buy Back The Dead’ warns us that ‘Enough’s never enough; absolute power will corrupt; the war machine still rumbles on’ before fading into the future.

The album opens with "Hypnagogia," an ode to the space between sleep and wakefulness where we are open to other realms of consciousness. The song slowly builds along a steady pulse provided by bassist Pickle (Nicole Smith) and drummer Rikki Styxx. Tripped out saxophone bleats from guest player Gabe Flores swirl on top of the organ drones laid out by guest keyboardist Gregg Foreman. The band's choral objectives for Under the Spell of Joy are established right off the bat, with Bonnie Bloomgarden's melodic invocations bolstered by a choir, giving the album a rich and vibrant wall-of-sound aesthetic. The song ominously builds on its hypnotic foundation until it opens up into a raucous revelry at the four-minute mark. The portentous simmer of the opening track yields to the ecstatic rocker "Hold My Hand," where verses reminiscent of Velvet Underground's "I'm Waiting For The Man" explode into big triumphant choruses. From there the band launches into the title track, which marries the griminess of The Stooges with an innocence provided by a children's choir chanting the album's primary mantra "under the spell of joy / under the spell of love." Death Valley Girls have always vacillated between lightness and darkness, and on "Bliss Out" they demonstrate their current exuberant focus with a patina-hued pop song driven by an irrepressibly buoyant organ line laid down by keyboardist The Kid (Laura Kelsey). A similar cosmic euphoria is obtained on "The Universe," where alternating chords on the organ help elevate soaring saxophone and keyboard lines out beyond the stratosphere. If you're looking for transcendental rock music, look no further.

o encapsulate the themes. “Aseurai means around you in the atmosphere, hard to reach, fading away,” Choi says. “It’s a poetic expression. You wouldn’t say it in normal conversation, but I like that.”

Following the four-piece band’s 2024 self-titled EP, Aseurai adds disco and city-pop influences while staying true to dream-pop roots. While Phoebe Rings was originally a solo project of Choi’s, Aseurai marks a shift with contributing songwriting credits from the whole band. The four musicians cut their teeth working on other notable NZ projects such as Princess Chelsea, Fazerdaze, Tiny Ruins, AC Freazy,, Sea Views and Lucky Boy.

With a more ambitious collection of instruments, Choi says this album heralds the start of true collaboration: “I feel more precious about this LP because it includes everyone’s gems.” Guitar/synthesist Simeon Kavanagh-Vincent spearheads unexpected arrangements, with bold fuzzy guitar textures, to spice up the mix. Benjamin Locke adds maturity to the lyrics, paired with perfectionist bass lines. And drummer Alex Freer’s slick production soars Aseurai to diverse and synergetic heights. The broth is richer with more cooks in the kitchen, and the brewing of textures creates a distinct ‘Phoebe Rings’ sound.

If the EP was spacey, then Aseurai settles on earth, rooted in tangible moments. “Without getting too gloomy, it’s a weird world out there. A lot has changed in the world since the EP came out,” says Kavanagh-Vincent on this transformation. The album delves into hope and longing across all possibilities, and this exploration of holding on and letting go is organically threaded throughout. Across ten songs, Phoebe Ring’s storytelling ranges from tongue-in-cheek musings on gentrification to tender autobiographical memories.

아스라이 흩어지는 하늘의 별이 (May the falling light of faraway stars) / 그대의 손 끝에 닿아 숨이 돼주길 (Reach your fingertips and let you breathe),” Choi sings in the title track “Aseurai.” Imagined as a breezy track inspired by a 90’s Korean pop band, Choi discovered, when fleshing out the lyrics, that it was about yearning for people she couldn’t see anymore. In the old-school disco track, “Get Up,” Locke addresses struggles with mental health in a Matrix-inspired driven mantra:  ‘Just get up / Just get up.’ The groove persists with ‘Fading Star,” a quirky ballad filled with steely jazz/rock guitar solos dedicated to a suburban aging musician. Kavanagh-Vincent’s lead single ‘Drifting’ is an unrequited celestial love song with bouncing bass and playful synths.

The band wrote, produced, and engineered the album across studios and band members’ homes in 2023/2024 in Tāmaki Makaurau (Auckland). It features mixing/mix production by local legend Jeremy Toy (Bic Runga, Aaradnha, Princess Chelsea) and mastering by Kelly Hibbert. With Aseurai, Phoebe Rings mark out a brilliant new constellation in their sky, bringing their individual compositions to the fore whilst seamlessly threading them into one celestial body - launching skyward on Carpark Records in June 2025.

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. "We were trying to find our own space," says Cinder of the formative period Camouflage Heart emerged from, amidst a move from Edinburgh to London and Cinder's evolving exploration of gender identity, well before culture at large was equipped to understand. With contemporary discourse we see that the project manifested her transgender ideas as visceral music. The guttural, feral sound marked a notably darker turn from The Freeze's sixyear run on the fringes of punk. Changing the project's name became vital, not just because they kept hearing the former was already taken, but the desire to embody the spiritual and sonic shift, "to uncover new pathways_to feminize it," she says. Cinder, with bandmates David Clancy and John Byrne, arrived at Cindytalk, a winking nod to Sindy, the British fashion doll rival to Barbie known then for its pull-string talking mechanism. "The goal was to have a more interesting narrative, more interesting dialogue. Music was ultimately my only way of talking to people. That was my conversation with the world, an abstracted conversation_an attempt to make some kind of tiny, tiny mark, if possible, you hope somebody will notice." Over the years, Cinder has heard from fans who did pick up on the signals and find refuge in Camouflage Heart. Camouflage Heart plays with tension and pace, from creeping to feverish to claustrophobic. The percussion moves between restless marches and barely-there pulses; for some parts, they scratched and hit a tin bath, among other objects. Guitar lines vibrate and stab as Cinder contorts her voice freely. She pulls poetry from a cerebral abyss, like "make the snake in your eye, pierce the camouflage heart" on the slow-droning centerpiece "The Spirit Behind the Circus Dream." In that register is raw power, both vulnerable and menacing, an ability to locate something deep and emotionally charged within. "I still remember that person who was way too intense for their own good," Cinder reflects. "I couldn't make a record like that now, certainly not vocally, while that anger hasn't dissipated; there's still a kind of warrior." For all the destruction and disintegration of Camouflage Heart, Cinder maintains the objective was never full-on fatalistic; these songs seek not to destroy but to poke and provoke, to transform and heal, to find cracks of light in a crumbling world. She points to the last lines of the opening track, "It's Luxury": "Don't look down," the lyric pines through static and rhythm. Cinder extrapolates, "I'm essentially saying, just keep fucking going. As time went on, for me, that falling became flying. Camouflage Heart is the beginning of believing in flight."

Brooklyn-based musician and producer Eliot Lipp has spent the last two decades crafting a signature sound that fuses hip-hop, synthwave, glitch, and electro. His breakthrough came in 2004 when Prefuse 73 released his debut album on Eastern Developments, a then-subsidiary of Warp Records. Since then, he has built an extensive discography across influential independent labels like Hefty Records, Mush Records, Pretty Lights Music, Young Heavy Souls, and his own Old Tacoma Records. Lipp's music, described by Billboard as "funky and experimental, crunchy and distorted, romantic, thoughtful, and all around playful," blends vintage and modern influences, with Kaltblut Magazine noting his inspiration from "sci-fi soundtracks and '70s and BDs funk" to create "weird, high-definition, melodic beats." His work has been featured by Bandcamp, Magnetic, XLR8R, and major radio stations like BBC Radio 6, KEXP, and KCRW. A seasoned performer, Lipp has toured extensively for over 15 years, playing in cities like New York, Los Angeles, Seattle, and Denver, as well as major festivals such as Electric Forest, Forecastle, and SXSW. With a career rooted in both classic beat-making and forward-thinking electronic production, Eliot Lipp remains a vital force in the independent music scene.

On his first release with Bastard Jazz, veteran Brooklyn producer Eliot Lipp delivers Kona, a bright blend of guitar samples, breakbeats, and his signature Korg MS-20 synth lines, evoking the feeling of kicking back on a beach at sunset. The beat hits hard from the start, but as the track unfolds, it eases into a more laid-back, summery vibe. Lipp's signature fusion of retro synth textures and crisp modern rhythms shines through, capturing an effortless, sun-soaked energy perfect for a night drive or a rooftop party. The B-side, Silver Bass, takes a different approach—starting with live drums, electric bass, and a groovy guitar and piano arrangement before morphing into a futuristic, digitally sequenced version of itself. With dueling saxophone and Moog melodies weaving between organic and electronic elements, the track transforms into a breezy electro jam that feels both nostalgic and forward-thinking, solidifying Lipp's ability to craft timeless, genre-blending sounds.

CINEMATIC VOYAGE THROUGH COSMIC RITUAL AND ETERNAL SOUND - a work that exists outside time—equally at home in the temples of antiquity and the neon-lit voids of speculative futures, merging ceremonial percussion, interstellar synthwaves, and wordless incantations into a 31-minute ritual for the infinite. Born from a three-year metamorphosis between studio and stage and rooted in a Takhmira (a Zar ritual poem), Ninety Nine Eyes channels the archetypal quest—a search for the “land where light is seated.” Its soundscapes evoke the grandeur of forgotten civilizations and the hum of celestial machinery: droning mizmar lines and drowning tombak and duff rhythms dissolve into maximalist synth storms; choirs of phantom voices rise like starlight through the static of ages. - Sound: Structured like a Sufi Hadra, the LP’s undulating peaks pull at old ways of communing with the divine - Part I builds tension, a breath before the storm, while Part II erupts into unfettered synth-drenched trance, gates flung open - only the listener can close the circle through their own interpretation.- For fans of Vangelis’ Blade Runner, Jon Hassell’s Fourth World, Alice Coltrane’s spiritual jazz, Autechre’s glitch rituals, and Pauline Oliveros’ deep listening.- Production: Mixed by VII, mastered by Heba Kadry (Björk, Ryuichi Sakamoto).- Artwork: Features a portrait of Yunis by Cairo underground photographer Kafrawy and hand-sewn costume design by Alaa Eideh, with graphic design by Giovanni Murolo (Countersubject). EU Tour spring 25

Illusive Bristolian producer Claude Cooper returns with ‘Friendly Sounds Vol 1’; part psychedelic trip, part romping beat tape, part party. The album was inspired by the vinyl discoveries made from Cooper’s months of digging and cataloguing the bulging inventory of Bedminster’s Friendly Records record shop. Cooper fed these myriad captured sounds through the studio and then, blurring the lines between sampling and performance, arranged and embellished them with keyboards, drum machines, bass guitar and more, also co-opting BEAK> bassist Billy Fuller and esteemed composer Ben Salisbury to contribute.

With most of the tracks in and out within 90 seconds, the album is best enjoyed as a continuous course. Play side A, play the B, then flip it back and listen all over again. Stand out moments include tremulous cut ‘n’ paste jam ‘Jackie’, the moody string-laden ‘Rainbow Eternity’, funky sitar workout ‘Nerd Nork’, and atmospheric closer ‘Take Flight’. Sharing a similarly broad and experimental sound palette as the likes The Avalanches, Madlib, The Go Team, and Edan; ‘Friendly Sounds Vol 1’ is the soundtrack to a wild joyride down South Bristol’s North Street, foot on the gas, hand on the horn, LPs spilling from the boot.

Cooper’s irrepressible debut album ‘Myriad Sounds' (Jan ‘22) caught the attention of the UK's press and radio alike. Mojo's four star review described it as “Bristol’s beat scene backdrops late night jams”, Uncut enjoyed the "rugged psych-funk romp" and Louder than War declared "it’s vital and vibrant and exactly what we need to kick start the year”. Bonus round 'More Myriad Sounds' (Apr ‘23) added Brooklyn vocalist Brain Fog to the melange with a bounty of pyretic vocal performances. DJ Mag called it “A fierce, kaleidoscopic trip” while Bandcamp Daily said “This album of cross-genre influences is as likely to get it included in any number of best-of columns, with the theme of serious fun as their common element”. Called a "mysterious Bristol breaks scientist" by Lauren Laverne, BBC radio DJs including Cerys Matthews, Gideon Coe, Huw Stephens, Jamie Cullum, Stuart Maconie, and Tom Ravenscroft have rinsed Cooper’s tracks, with Huey Morgan inviting Cooper to contribute a Block Party Mix for his show.



‘Stay A While’, the first showing of Cooper’s new shop sampling stunners, was released on 7” in January ‘24. Lush string flourishes sliced with 6Ts girl-group vocals and rollicking piano chords resulted in a dreamy, end of night, lights up anthem in-the-making that The Arts Desk called “A horn-fired, beatsy, chop-around that recalls The Avalanches”. Releasing the album is Friendly Records, the best little record shop in Bristol and now a burgeoning record label. Opened by Tom Friend on North Street in 2016, it’s gone on to become a hub of the local musical community. As well as Claude Cooper, the label has released LPs by Alison Cotton, Floating World Pictures, Christian Madden & The Enemy Chorus, Nick Craft, as well as handling the War Child series of 7”s with BEAK>, Idles, J Dilla, PJ Harvey, Portishead, and Sleaford Mods + Hot Chip.



Claude Cooper will DJ at the one-day Friendly Festival on 10th May in aid of War Child, which will feature Sleaford Mods, Katy J Pearson, The 45s, Zalizo and DJ sets by Ishmael Ensemble, Heavenly Jukebox and Friendly Records DJs.

Conflict formed in 1981 in Eltham, Southeast London, when frontman Colin Jerwood, inspired by early encounters with the Pistols 'Spunk' bootleg and following The Clash on tour, struck up a friendship with Crass and set about crafting a whole new kind of punk that totally upped the ante in terms anger and confrontation. Crass, the renowned anarchist punk collective, having got Conflict started by releasing their debut single 'The House That Man Bult' in 1982 on Crass Records, ended in 1984 as they had always intended. Now it was up to Conflict to pick up the baton and run with it. And they did, charging into the battle lines of authority.

The years that followed saw Conflict go from strength to strength, peaking on the 18th of April in 1987 at the London Brixton Academy for the 'Gathering of the 5,000' concert. A climax and explosion of rage and rebellion that inevitably ended up in a police provoked full-scale riot with police injuries, arrests, and with the band hopelessly in debt and banned from the majority of major London and UK venues.

Undeterred, Conflict continued into the 90s with their acclaimed 'Conclusion' album and remained a mainstay of the live punk circuit throughout. However, after more than two decades since the release of their (2003) 'There's No Power Without Control' album, the band are back with 'This Much Remains'. Featuring sixteen brand new Conflict creations, the album sees the band keeping one eye on their eventful past, and the other firmly on moving forward, both musically and politically. Animal Rights are still at the forefront of Conflict’s collective minds, giving a voice to the voiceless on songs such as 'A Mother's Milk' and 'Shut The Fuck Up', whilst their anger at world governments will never dissipate.

Also featuring an appearance by the late Benjamin Zephaniah on the track 'Cut The Crap', 'This Much Remains' is the sound of a band that continues to surprise and progress, decades after it first began. Conflict are Colin Jerwood - vocals; Fiona Friel - vocals; Gav King - guitars, melodica & Hammond; Fran Fearon - bass; Stoo Meadows - drums. With Benjamin Zephaniah - vocals on 'Cut The Crap'; Mitsuko Sonoda - voice on 'The Impossible Soul'.

2025 Repress

As a trained dancer, movement has always guided GiGi FM’s work, whether through developing movement based instruments, or questing to make you move via sound-systems across the world. These ephemeral moments of altered sleep patterns and dance are now present in the music of ‘Sea~rène’, sounds for a trip in the mind held with a desire to dance.

A sense of brightness prevails in ‘Movimiento’, the feeling of white light rising from the dark of your mind as you lay with closed eyes.



Opener ‘Gabriella’ takes you by the hand to spin you across the ballroom floor, dancing in a dusky glow. Piano twinkles along with your step; a gradual ascension as a graceful dance can be. Lost in thoughtful yet thoughtless drift to the rumble of sound, we can confront parts of ourselves and our connection to others, the spirit of B side opener ’Awakening The World’s Heart’.



Place is important to movement also, as heard in the kinetic motion of ‘Tempelhof’, reminiscent of the feld in Berlin (GiGi’s home) itself. Blurred lines of people weaving their way through, either high speed on skates or on a leisurely stroll. It's summer in the city, where the nighttime shortens and daylight extends, yet the simulated night of the club never ends. Eventually reaching slumber, ‘Lucid Dreaming’ is the record's swan-song, a final lift of propulsion to remind that the dream of dance is a physical act, belonging to the imagined and the real. Digi bonus ‘Raspberry Pie’ is a sweet treat at the end of the dance, a familiar taste and a reminder of joy, ready for the next ‘Movimiento’.

Verdure – Timeless Wave
With ’Timeless Wave’ Verdure releases an overwhelming acidic tidal force of a track.
A 9 min long epic multi layered surge across various territories and morphing along the way, starting out at 145 bpm and picking up velocity in the course, details whizzing by in unsuspected clarity.
Verdure is featured on his own full release on Violent Cases 031 VC031 .

Six Ou Sept & L Art Cène – Cap Nord
Darkness is moving over the surface of the watery deep at ’Cap Nord’. Acid lines cut thru the black liquid with sharp fins. Then a long break...is it the swan song of whales or the intercom of AI reapers? The end or a new beginning? When the Acid fades the Tekno kicks in. 150 bpm is the pace. Both long intro and bold beatless interlude create DJ options.

Too Old Boyz – Darkettony
Too Old Boyz are back in town and they are not in the mood for fooling around. It’s getting dark, better check your rear. The lights are flickering and you can’t get off this train. 40 tons rolling through Gotham at 145 bpm.
Too Old Boyz are Tommers and Introspective Views. Check out their ’Danger Is Sauce For Prayers‘ EP on Violent Cases 022. [VC022] and their Rodenwald - Tauchstation Remix on Endless Night 2 [ENNI2].

With another awe inspiring custom artwork by Darkam. Mastered by Pozek in Vienna.

After a strong first release on Fuse Imprint with 'The Wall', resident Phara returns to his home base for a mirage of introspective tracks. Furthering his research of emotive club music, 'Soft Glow, Fierce Light' seems more than appropriately named. Shimmering melodies, swinging rhythms, and a comforting ambiance, Phara proves that his constantly evolving musical persona and relationship with the Brussels club are built to last.

Beginning with 'Unfold', the Belgium-native sets the board with a warm introduction. Reminiscent of his recent endeavor as In Glass, a balance is struck between the slower tempo dub techno of his secondary alias and the higher club energy that he's been known to bring as Phara. Steady at first, filters open wide half way through the track to ensure maximum euphoria off or on the dance floor. 'Flow' follows in suit and here the producer keeps the level constant and tense with intricate melodic design. A steady groove with blossoming synth lines make 'Flow' a beauty to witness unravel. Warm chord stabs make for a nostalgic EP and shows once more that the seasoned producer frequently enjoys prioritizing emotion over drive. Flipping the vinyl to the other side, 'Wave to Wave' points a finger to all things dub, even a discrete appreciation of house music, through the harmony of his keys to the sound design of his square bass, and its common borders with techno. Juggling in snare rolls and rides throughout, Phara sets the tone with a soothing piece of work for lovers of the eyes-closed genre. To conclude, 'Solitude' brings a polished vintage effect to the project that 'Wave to Wave' introduced, this time with heightened intensity worthy of a set closer. Punchy stabs make this a particularly extraverted track, fitting into almost any record bag - Room 01 or Motion Room friendly. Thundering claps over an electric melody, these kinds of tracks aren't new to Phara. Pouring soul into his tracks, Phara proves once again to be a truly central artist in developing the Fuse sound and continuing his stylistic journey.

The Vendetta Suite is back to light up the early part of 2025 with a brilliant brace of singles on Hell Yeah. Kicking things off is a glorious acid house/disco thriller backed by a soothing out of body escape.

We’ve often referred to The Vendetta Suite as Belfast’s best kept secret, but with the quality music he keeps releasing he is rightly picking up ever more of a profile. The Hell Yeah regular has long been a key part of his native Northern Irish scene thanks to the way he mixes genres; ambient, post-rave Balearic, dub and acid house all in the mix with his own unique psychedelic magic.

First up is ‘The Jam Answer’, which taps into plenty of classic sounds but reinvents them for modern dancefloors. Bendy acid lines weave in between the dusty analogue drums, familiar acid house vocal samples and fizzing chord stabs bring the heat before a cosmic synth lead sings out with sunny soul. ‘Island Hill Microdot’ channels dreamy Chicago house, the futuristic styles of IDM with the blissed out warmth of Balearic. Carried along with gentle percussion, it’s an immersive soundscape that makes for the perfect tropical distraction.

Two very different but equally effective cuts from The Vendetta Suite.

Swedish artist Martinou crafts deeply immersive electronic music, seamlessly balancing weight and delicacy. His productions oscillate between hypnotic intensity and introspective warmth, always evoking a visceral response on the dancefloor.
After releasing on acclaimed labels like Nous’klaer, Turbo Recordings, and Mule Musiq, the Malmö-based producer now makes his long-awaited debut on Stockholm’s Studio Barnhus. His Linked EP showcases six meticulously layered compositions, where intricate rhythms intertwine with luminous melodies – ethereal synths drifting in and out of the grooves, shaping an atmosphere that’s both expansive and deeply personal.
With Linked, Martinou further refines his signature approach, crafting music that feels at once free-flowing and deliberate. It’s a record that invites deep listening yet remains primed for the floor – a testament to the Malmö maestro's knack for blurring the lines between club functionality and sonic storytelling.

Entering its 26th year of activity, the morphing, Los Angeles based experimental outfit, Sissy Spacek, joins Shelter Press with Entrance, among the project's most captivating outings to date. Encountering the duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma joined in various configurations by an incredible cast of collaborators - Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, Ralf Wehowsky, and C Spencer Yeh - collectively transformed into a series a deeply intimate and delicate gestures of musique concrète, Entrance radically repositions the possibilities presented by group improvisation outside of time and place. Founded at the end of the last millennium, the Los Angeles based project, Sissy Spacek, initially emerged from the knotted, fiery context 1990s American noise and grindcore, producing sheets of visceral sonority that quickly set the scene on its head. Going through numerous evolutions, before eventually settling as a duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma - joined by a rotating and often recurring cast collaborators - over the last 25 years the band has continuously entered states of evolution that have defied the expectations of its own context, seeding the sonic extremes noise with subtle and sophisticated approaches to free improvisation and musique concrète. Fiercely positioning its efforts within the outer reaches of contemporary experimental music, while resisting the constraints of a singular sound or proximity, Wiese regards Sissy Spacek as being primarily centred around the practice of musique concrète and the pursuit of extremes. From its earliest releases - collage treatments of material gathered from the band's full throttle practice sessions - the project's conceptual framework has continuously evolved within a deeply engaged process of experimentation, not only reworking tactical approaches, but also definitions and perception regarding the location and action of their work. In recent years, this has led to an increasingly varied and diverse output. Percolating within, is a thread marked by a striking sense of delicacy and intimacy, driving forward while doubling as an unexpected challenge, in real time, to perceptions connected to the band's past. Entrance is the most recent of these. Embarking upon the four compositions that comprise the finalized four sides of Entrance, Wiese and Mumma enlisted longstanding collaborators, Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, and C Spencer Yeh, as well as new initiate, Ralf Wehowsky (of the seminal German electronic noise collective P16.D4), requesting a contribution of sounds from each, determined by a general set guidelines that dictated certain qualities the given sonorities, while allowing for the expression of each player's distinct creative voice. The sets of resulting recordings were then chopped, harvested, manipulated, and reassembled as the four tape compositions that make up the album - Web Of Unfolding Appearance, Figure Of Reflected Light, Trancher And The Inheritors, True Dimension (From The Opaque - Spike) - each blurring the lines of authorship and clear creative proximity in remarkable ways. Where historical gestures of musique concrète tend to draw upon non-instrumental sound sources - regarding its sonorous material as raw elements, unburdened by inherent meaning or association, to be transformed and imbued with musicality - Sissy Spacek turns this position on its head. Entrance comprises works of musique concrète that not only draw upon instrumental sound sources, with all their possible meanings or associations, but also individual characters and personalities of their players, crediting each resulting piece to its respective configuration of contributors. As such, Entrance is an effort of sound collage defined by a rare sense of intimacy and humanity: four pieces that often take on the resemblance of group improvisation, but have, in fact, been assembled outside of time and place. Bent under the ever-present hand of Wiese's tape treatments and manipulation, each of the album's four compositions unfurl startling states of sonic abstraction and percolating texture, marked by a striking sense of hard-shifting structure, that culminate as tense, driven manifestations of ambient music: scrapes, squeals, rattles feedback, rolling drums, bouncing tones, whispers, bent electronics, electric artefacts, and seemingly everything else under the sun, configured into immersive, sublime mediations in sound from the most improbable events.

j.o.y.s. is both the moniker of and the debut self-titled LP by the Los Angeles based artist Ramon Narvaez. j.o.y.s. is an acronym for “jump out of your skin”. While the phrase can conjure moments of shock and surprise, Narvaez, however uses the phrase as a foot lamp illuminating a path towards momentary transcendence through creating beautifully conjured ambient music that recalls work by Daniel Lanois, suss, Dean Hurley and Tim Hecker. While the pedal steel is prominent, j.o.y.s., as a project, is more in conversation with shoegaze and noise than what has recently been deemed ambient country. Heavy brutalist slabs of noise, swirling feedback create the sound bed of these songs. Collaborator Justin Gaynor’s pedal steel on this album operates as important connective tissue as both the road and the traveler between the light and shadow zones. Drones are wrapped in distortion, processed just below the threshold where we’d throw the word “harsh” around. Rather, there is a delicate dance between Gaynor’s top-rope pedal steel lines - always sweet and always just a bit mournful - with Narvaez’s ringing bass notes and noise chatter. j.o.y.s. revels in intransigence. Nothing can last. As Matt Colquhoun puts in the introduction to Mark Fisher’s heartbreaking Ghosts of My Life - our identity and relationship to the past are “portals in perpetual collapse”. Depression, friendship, longing are all briefly satiated while in the peak experience of creating something as a response to them. But even that is impermanent. These sounds - improvised, exploratory, ecstatic - are eventually edited, whittled down and pressed to wax - not tombs but portals to the past.

*180g virgin leaded vinyl in a deluxe textured heavy gatefold cover, with paste-on artwork and special anti-static innersleeve.* Note: The pressing is absolute on point!!!!

Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon with a beautifully recorded suite of songs and instrumentals.

" More than two decades since he blew minds with a suite of brilliant releases on Warp, Vincent Gallo returns to the world of music at long last in Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon, with the project’s full-length debut, “The Music of Butterfly”. A gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, while interweaving fascinating flirtations with minimalism and experimentalism, it’s a truly captivating piece of work that’s hard to get off the turntable after the first needle drop.

In the arts, the lines between genius and madness, as well as fact and fiction, often blur. Such, it seems, has always been the life of the artist, filmmaker, actor, musician, and composer Vincent Gallo. A cult figure and a member of various creative undergrounds for the better part of half a century, Gallo has courted controversy, ruffled feathers, and made some of the most singular statements to flirt at the outer edges of popular culture that can be called to mind. Arguably most well known for his work in film, during the late '90s and early 2000s - notably with his soundtrack for “Buffalo 66” and a suite of releases on Warp - Gallo became something of a sensation in the world of independent music for a visionary, incredibly unique and sensitive approach to sonority. For a time, the world was abuzz, waiting on bated breath for more, and yet time passed. Bar a few fragments, appearing here and there, almost nothing has been heard from Gallo, within the world of music, for more than 20 years. That is, until now, with the release of “The Music of Butterfly”, the debut full-length of Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon: beautifully produced and issued by Family Friend Records - Gallo’s own label, founded in 1981 - in a deluxe edition that simply left us speechless: 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve. More or less picking up from where we last encountered him, spinning captivating melodies and gentle song-craft within the quieter temperaments of DIY, left-field pop, once again, and at long last, Vincent Gallo, encountered in an incredibly successful collaboration with Harper Simon as Butterfly, reminds us that he’s as much a force within the realm of music as he is within film. Not to be missed. This one isn’t going to sit around for long.

Vincent Gallo’s biography reads like the stuff of blaring beauty: a figure of moderate fame in his own right, who has remained at the centre of cultural ferment as the decades have rolled by. Born in 1961, in Buffalo, New York, as the story goes he ran away to New York City at the age of 16 and fell into the brewing counterculture of the Downtown scene, William Burroughs and John Giorno, in addition to the cream of his own peers, and began making paintings, music, and experimenting with film. In addition to being a member of the now legendary band Gray, with the artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the filmmaker, Michael Holman, Gallo appeared in the cult 1981 film “Downtown 81”, before slowly beginning a career as an actor and catching the eye of Claire Denis, who brought his talents into the broader cultural gaze. Catapulted into the public by his own subsequent career as a filmmaker with “Buffalo '66” (1998) and “The Brown Bunny” (2003), both of which were marked by controversy and praise, Gallo further captivated the public with a partially brilliant, if not relatively brief, flurry of activity in the realms of music.

While Gallo had already been making music for roughly two decades at the time of his release of the “Brown Bunny” soundtrack, and the four release issued by Warp in rapid succession between 2001 and 2002 - “When”, “Honey Bunny”, “So Sad”, and “Recordings of Music for Film” - the almost fanatical fandom reached a fever pitch at the moment, allowing him, for some, to be regarded as much, if not more, as a musical artist than an actor and filmmaker. Anyway you cut it, in a few short years, he proved himself to be a polymath of rare talent. Somewhere along the way, while both were working as members of Yoko Ono's Plastic One Band, Gallo met the New York based, highly regarded singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer, Harper Simon, who also happens to be the son of Paul Simon. The pair fell into an incredibly fruitful duo collaboration, which came to be called Butterfly, and “The Music of Butterfly” being their debut full-length release.

Written, performed, and recorded by Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon in New York City between the winter of 2018 and the spring of 2019, the ten tracks comprising “The Music of Butterfly” are cumulatively a gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, making one feel like barely a moment had passed since we’d encountered his graceful hand at song-craft. Stripped back and raw, while retaining a sense of warmth and intimacy, across the length of “The Music of Butterfly” the duo of Gallo and Simon weave something completely captivating at the juncture of minimalism, experimentalism, and pop: meandering moments of texture and tone, slowly forming toward flirtations of melody that flower into song and back again. Somehow playful and light, while also remarkably emotive and personal, it’s almost as though each of these tracks crystallised out the air, unlabored and exactly as they should be without a note or beat more.

An engrossing immersion into both Gallo and Simon’s remarkably accomplished minds, having followed the path toward one another after radically different experiences and careers, “The Music of Butterfly” is one of those records that’ll be hard to get off the turntable after that first needle drop, and rarely leave the listening pile for some time to come. Issued by Family Friend Records in a beautiful deluxe edition that is unmatched even among the most stunning recent productions we can call to mind - 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve - it’s lovely to have Gallo back in the musical mix after so many years. "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tappa Zukie is not only one of Jamaica’s greatest DJ’s, is also a much respected producer and arranger. Looking back through his master tapes we have found a lost release that due to being a worldwide recording artist and the pressures that this carries, it has stayed on his musical shelf and been passed over... until now.

When rhythm was King way back in the 1970’s, the predominant feature of the final mix down would in most cases be the drums and bass. Bringing drums and bass to the fore, the other instruments that create the tunes mood would take a back seat in the mix. With such fine musicians in the horn sections as Vin Gordon, Deadly ‘Headley’ Bennett and the unstoppable Tommy McCook, it sometimes felt, their services if nothing else were slightly underused.

So one way of rectifying this situation was one that Tappa himself instigated, putting a release together by picking some of his favourite productions that carried classic horn lines alongside those tightly recorded rhythms. Pushing those horn lines up in the mix and so making a feature of some of those touches that although added some colour to the original cut, laid back in the mix to the more Sound System friendly drum and bass cut.

When looking at the music with this approach, some of the other influences that were also in Tappa’s mind can be noticed more. Maybe it’s a Jazzier / Bluesy feel shining through. A strange thing happens that almost takes the song down the avenue of a soundtrack album. An unreleased film score to accompany an unreleased film.

So sit back and enjoy a lost release that time and place did not find time to see the light of day. As the opening track testifies and in the immortal words of Mr Tappa Zukie himself.. “Your Musical Daddy is back... Horns Up !!!!”

OHYUNG aka Lia Ouyang Rusli describes their new album as “my trans self and my former self in conversation, from both perspectives.” The record represents their lengthy, complicated, but crucial journey between lives, strewn with both doubt and excitement. It is an ecstatic, pop-oriented shift in direction from an artist primarily known for noise, experimental hip-hop, and ambient music, but carried with sleek confidence, maturity, and a silvery, hallucinogenic shimmer that reveals Rusli’s experimental background. It is, writes Rusli, “sometimes written from a dark place and other times from a place of happiness.” Throughout, darkness and light rise and fall in layers of phased strings, trip-hop drum production, and earworming vocal lines.

Also a film score composer, Rusli’s songwriting craft is meticulous and nuanced. You Are Always On My Mind was, perhaps surprisingly, formed primarily from processed “generic string loops” found in online sample packs - a strange and wilfully jarring reminder that what seems to be is not always what is. Recontextualised, these string loops enshadow the simplicity of their origins and reveal a grace and purposefulness perhaps not even imagined by their authors, subtly drawing out euphoria and tension in equal balance.

Rusli also writes of the influence of rave culture central to their transition, and of the record’s production and theme. “It’s a declaration of love for raves and the dark hazy rooms that helped me to be free and true with myself— seeing other people who are so free and beautiful and thinking that one day that can be me— that’s me in the future.” But there is also a fear and unease present. Key moment “no good” explores “the worst version of myself as a trans person, feeding doubt to my pre-transition self” with its core lyric anyone can see / I’m no good for you, delivered over a relentless beat, swooning strings, and glistening synthesis.

Later, “i swear that i could die rn” renders a Spectreish Motown beat lamenting and lush with breathy synths and knife-edge melodies that eventually yield a hazy, gliding string section, created again from mutated, spliced, and transitioned royalty-free sample packs. The track is about “seeing my beautiful friends at raves and feeling at home appreciating the harsh noises of hardcore techno and acid. Feeling that I could die at this moment and be happy.”