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Just as you were getting your head straight coming off the 21st Trip … Brown Acid dose # 22 drops, continuing to fry your mind in a revolving trap-door Twilight Zone alternate world of early hard rock… populated by real life characters so far out they can look like a cheesy wedding band but sound like Blue Cheer! Uncanny! This music comes at you from many angles. Teens in a garage colliding with booze, drugs and girls for the first time, lounge lizard hustlers with snazzy stage clothes and fuzz boxes… gnarly backwoods troublemakers meet blow dried glam rock wannabes here, seamlessly clobbering your head with sound rather than each other! An electric post-psychedelic bar brawl for your mind awaits, unfasten your seat belt, crank it up and fly! Sounds Synonymous "Babylon" out of Flint, Michigan 1969 rip the devastating Blue Cheer classic a new one, immediately swarming you with organ swells and distortion before collapsing into a tuff funk groove, a psychedelic James Brown vibe shot through with dirty howling fuzz guitar, vocals nailing the messed up but confident relaxed sneering attitude of the original Cheer eruption. The Bumps "Shining" from Seattle 1969 resides right at the transition of ‘60s psych into early prog, well constructed, no diluting things artsy fartsy style, a compelling heavy riff, spacious vocal harmony hook floating above a turbulent take on getting your shit together and shining like a star. Fat chance, but you can dream, the band did and their dreams kick ass across time to right now or you wouldn’t be here.

Coulda been a hit back then, definitely a hit now. Riverside "Farmer" explodes out of Austin, Texas 1974, economical but brilliantly structured riffs and power chords, intense dynamic tension/release, fantastic screaming leads over shifting angles of attack during the middle break… it’s all here with a detached confidence in the vocal that swaggers back in time to the late ‘60s in its proto-heavy psych adjacent assault. Cincinnati Joe & Mad Lydia "Get It Together" for real in Cincinnati, Ohio 1970. The song says everything you need to know: “You may think that you’re the very best, miles and miles ahead of the rest, but be sure when you’re put to the test you get it together!” These words are deployed in a manner similar to Peter Green’s “Oh Well”, intermittently stated between killer gnarly guitar and gushy organ attacks. Bar band heaven and hell rolled up into one big ball, the vocals get all the way out there! Straight Up "Fire" takes the monster 1968 Crazy World Of Arthur Brown hit into faithfully executed but surreally minimalist territory, Minneapolis, Minnesota 1974. Genius version of a key song that presciently cuts to the chase regarding Brown Acid’s incinerations of psychedelic idealism, you’re gonna burn, burn, burn… as that moment climaxes you can gawk at their preposterous flashy lounge band stage outfits and realize side one must end because everything is totally scorched into eternity. Scrap Iron "Poopsie" is a primitive two chord stomper with spiraling fuzz and organ riffs, singer marking his territory caveman style. “Poopsie, you’re my woman” he commands, but gets weirdly insecure she’ll blow him off at the altar by the end of each verse. Snarly wah-wah ices this toxic cake out of Carteret, New Jersey 1973. Focused delivery so single-mindedly crude it creates an inescapable instant brain-worm. Lady "Live Show Tigers" is amongst the most potently life affirming trash rockers you’ll ever hear, one outrageously triumphant but fiercely sloppy anthem about living it up like a star, strutting the stage glammed up New York Dolls drag style but with a Dictators sense of humor. Tasty slightly off kilter guitar leads all through, going serendipitously berserk on the fade. Picture disc single out of L.A. 1980. Fantastic fun rock star rock at a very raw local street level where any time is party time.

Killer Frog "Hard Times" on Masochist Records from Chicago, Illinois 1972 takes less than two minutes, an action packed James Gang style bar band rocker with a bit of punky sneer in the face of misfortune. These guys never even heard of flower power. They are killer frogs. Good Humore "Killer" does kill in stripped down hard rock trio style, Warren, Michigan 1976. No frills guitar, bass and drums groove tight, snaky primordial riff, snarly licks. “She’s a killer of a woman, knows just what she’s doing…” The singer knows she’s a femme-fatale roadhouse predator but she’s so hot the inevitable wreckage seems a bargain. Ride it out like the extended jam on the fade knowing she’ll be back for more! Sarawest "Space Rider" winds up the 22nd Trip lost in a twisted two chord space adventure from the point of view of an alien visiting our planet seeking knowledge but finding out we are stupidly destroying ourselves, so he gotta split sneering back at us like we wasted his time “I got no time for loving… I wanna be a space rider, space rider”. Toronto, Canada 1974, a vibe lurking in some strange but funny void between late ‘60s outsider garage psychedelic rock complete with reverb-y acid guitar leads and late ‘70s retro-futuristic D.I.Y wisecracking from inner space… taking the piss out of outer space!

Cathartic avant-rock, literate DIY folk & experimental composition exploring displacement, love, climate change, belonging & the places we call home - RIYL Jim O’Rourke, Richard Youngs, This Heat, Richard Dawson, Flying Nun. ‘Real Home’ is the new album by the Manchester-born, London-based artist Kiran Leonard. His sixth album proper (not including innumerable tour-only CD-Rs and short-run cassettes), since his precocious debut in 2013, ‘Real Home’ finds Leonard invigorated by inspiration and experience, making passionate, literate, and mercurial music that explores displacement, love, memory, climate change, connections to home and more. Encompassing songs recorded after moving to South London, ‘Real Home’ reflects on ideas of belonging and domesticity through folkloric, stream-of-consciousness songwriting. Across nine tracks, Leonard traces lived impressions of the household and the city, expressing sentiments of dislocation, alienation and stasis, but contentment too. Infusing the avant-rock effervescence, terraced dynamics and visionary lyricism of his music with what he defines as a greater sense of openness, Leonard is as versatile, fervent and imaginative as ever on ‘Real Home’, yet his music is somehow more intimate, affecting, and acutely expressive. Shaped by dual considerations of simplicity and formalism, ‘Real Home’ is by turns beautiful, allusive, and ruminative, an album on which Leonard considers what his songs have resembled in the past and what they mean now. In recent years, Leonard has crafted eloquent chamber music inspired by the likes of James Joyce and Clarice Lispector (‘Derevaun Seraun’), responded to contemporary politics and communication breakdown in the digital age (‘Western Culture’), and compiled solo works and ensemble recordings for a longform ode to Jonas Mekas and to one of Leonard’s enduring themes; home (‘Trespass On Foot’). On ‘Real Home’, Leonard reiterates this abiding thematic focus yet ascends to new, different heights, in music of cathartic delicacy and dissonance where all the myriad dimensions of his work to date seem to crystallize. There are sinuous songs about struggle and defying the pace of city life through drift and diversion (‘Pass Between Houses’), stirring songs of intense feeling and crescendo, described as a form of speculative detective fiction (‘Theatre for Change’). There are touching solo piano ballads (the title track), symbolic contentions with carbon capture and climate change (‘Utopia of Bog’), modes of experimental minimalism (‘Void Attentive’), and other profuse feats of compositional range, embroidered with wild tendrils of narrative and lyrical depth. A record to pore over, and get lost in. Exemplifying the vast aesthetic scope of Leonard’s music, lead single ‘My Love, Let’s Take The Stage Tonight’ is inspired by country lodestar Hank Williams, Russian poetry and a late period love poem by William Carlos Williams. Yet for Leonard, the song signals a sense of accessible materiality, and is the product of a more linear approach to writing songs: “My imitation of the great Hank Williams, in spirit if not in substance…This is one of the best efforts on Real Home at a song-as-object. Looking at it now I realise I was trying to write a song that made itself known as a song to the listener, and I wonder whether that’s crucial if you want a song to transcend its context. And that this is either accomplished through a total openness – by being inviting, by laying the tricks of the song out plain to see, as Williams and his many ghostwriters did so well – or by adopting a knowing aloofness, positioning oneself against the listener but letting it be known that that’s what it’s doing. In this song I try both, but mostly the former: as in, I wanted to write a song where every line follows on from the next.” Imbuing the endlessly elaborate and inventive qualities of his music with a newfound streak of candid, clear-cut melodicism, Leonard has reached a special place in his artistry, on a record that feels familial, and expresses closeness. Assembled with affiliates including Lauren Auder, Otto Willberg, Jasper Llewellyn (caroline), Tom Hardwick-Allan (Shovel Dance Collective), Magda McLean (caroline, The Umlauts), Alex Mckenzie (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective), Isabelle Thorn (Dear Laika) & more, the recording process had a significant influence on the subject matter of ‘Real Home’, in sessions defined by close-knit camaraderie and artistic eccentricity: “The theme of the home obviously recurs throughout the record; the album was mostly recorded in domestic spaces with friends, and the name of the album is Real Home. I like the qualifier ‘real’, like you’re getting past the cloak of the word and towards the thing-itself…also nearly all the percussion in this record was recorded on items from my dad’s shed (jam jars, sandpaper, blocks of wood, etc). Real home record!” ‘Real Home’, like anything by Kiran Leonard, is a record of dazzling multiplicity. Yet it’s a companionable prospect with a central premise; a collection of songs where listeners old and new can find a home. An album led by a scene; of Leonard standing at the threshold, ready to welcome you inside. “Exceptional songs that linger” - The Guardian // “An autodidact of amazing talent & energy” – Pitchfork // “A ridiculous amount of talent…confrontational, celebratory, provocative or perverse – he manages all of these emotions & more” - The Quietus /

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

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

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

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

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

Twenty years ago, ILL BILL released “What’s Wrong With Bill?”, a raw, unfiltered snapshot of where his mind was at during a dark, creative and transformative time. Chaos and clarity in musical form, a record built from trauma, truth and the New York streets that raised him. He never imagined it would become what it did: a cult classic with a revered mystique that continues to be quoted and debated 20 years later. This album captured ILL BILL at his most urgent, most aggressive and most alert to the madness around him.

For the first time in two decades, “What’s Wrong With Bill?” is being reissued on 2LP vinyl, a complete capsule including an alternate variant cover, 20th anniversary commemorative OBI strip, and, for the first time ever, a cassette edition, alongside a remastered limited edition CD. This is more than nostalgia, it’s encapsulated arcana, proudly representative of an era when Hip Hop was dangerous, fearless and alive. This one is for the true believers who never forgot.

French modular tribalist Sindh launches the Komudo Origins Series on his own label with a fierce first chapter built for deep physical immersion. Still rooted in rythmic ritualism, these four tracks push further into shadowy, shape-shifting techno. 'Sauros' is the beatless opener, all hovering, menacing atmospheres and sonically refracted voices. 'Arbhar' glides along with a sleek, understated techno framework that feels like it's made of pure air. 'Mystic Sun' begins to edge towards the pumping, firing echoes and low level spoken words across a progressive-style builder, before 'Denali' closes things off via thumping, late-night techno charge. Subtle darkness, alien textures and body-focused grooves define this potent new series.

At 19, Helviofox adds his signature to the batida template that by now seems to have been in existence since forever. Such is the strength of this primordial fountain, a source of rejuvenation. Also within the literal family: Helvio cites brothers Dadifox and Erycox as main influences.

Curiosity for the sound made him go into production by the time he was 13. A couple of years later (2020) he became co-founder of TLS with E8Prod, Alberfox, DiionyG and other mates. His talent fully developed since then, opening a slight detour that became a new path parallel to the main road.

Lively basslines anchor the beat directly lifted from tradition and clearly channeled to the dancefloor. Strong, well rounded grooves, a spot-on sense of timing and tempo, elegant atmospheres, all part of Helvio's notion of arrangement and his perception of dance music boundaries, stretching them just enough to present a challenge but not as far as to disconnect head and feet and risk losing the floor.

This liminal space between experimentation and popularity is both dangerous and attractive. There is no one formula. Precisely why it still retains plenty of fuel for current and future generations to contribute personal visions.

Lisboa, 2025

Watershed is the ninth studio album by Swedish progressive metal band Opeth. Watershed is the first studio album by Opeth to feature guitarist Fredrik Åkesson and drummer Martin Axenrot, who replaced longtime guitarist Peter Lindgren and drummer Martin Lopez. The artwork for the album was made by Travis Smith in collaboration with Mikael Åkerfeldt. Opeth is a band that has been taking amazing chances and managed to not only win new fans, but not alienate older ones. A perfect blend of the death metal of Still Life and Blackwater Park, the monolithic riffage of Deliverance and Ghost Reveries, and the prog/classicism of Damnation combined with classic Deep Purple, Pink Floyd, and Scorpions. Watershed is available as a limited edition of 4.000 individually numbered copies on silver & black marbled vinyl, includes a 4 page booklet and a poster and the sleeve has a special linen laminate finish.

Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands is an autobiographical record, comprised of four songs that Hoff refers to as ambient media. Each track is composed from sources drawn from his own involuntary aural landscape, specifically musical earworms and tinnitus frequencies.

Neither sound nor a daydream, the earworm (or stuck song) emblematizes music as a commercial form—immediate, ubiquitous, and persistent. Likewise, tinnitus is inaudible and unscrupulous, manifesting across a spectrum of frequencies at will. The cognitive swirling of these phenomena provides an ambivalent, internal soundtrack that scores a person’s movement through the world.

Those suffering from tinnitus or those who have grown accustomed to the “Tinnitus Effect” in movies will likely recognize the buzzing pitches on the record, but will likely not recognize the songs. Distorted and distilled, Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands features altered versions of four commercial pop songs: Blondie’s “Heart of Glass,” David Bowie’s “Space Oddity,” Madonna’s “Into the Groove,” and Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day.”

Having been haunted by these songs on and off for years, Hoff tweaks the tracks, transposing and recomposing them for orchestral instrumentation. Speaking back to these involuntary echoes, these tracks go to great lengths to obfuscate their sources; to be sure not to simply re-introduce each earworm, as though they were samples. Otherwise, what’s the point? No one needs another stream.

Besides, earworms are not music, although we perceive them as such. They are non-cochlear and exist as an affective force that is neither subjective nor objective, which is to say they are an invasive—and alien—phenomenon. Like tinnitus, they are aggravated by economic, social, and environmental forces as well as emotional states, mental health, and aging. Hoff doesn’t underplay his own struggles with mental health in discussing the record—noting a long history of depression and its acuteness over the last few years, which serve as the backdrop to the composition of this record.

Scratch any pop song hard enough and you’ll find sadness underneath it. Subdermal, the songs on this record evoke a type of ephemeral weariness and despair. By recasting the original songs through their shadowy doubles, Hoff provides a window into the dark core of pop music. At the center of which lies capitalism’s desperate attempt to replicate itself through a cheap high built on echoing refrains. Just below the surface the listener finds a hangover of shadows dancing through the mind.

Twenty years ago, ILL BILL released “What’s Wrong With Bill?”, a raw, unfiltered snapshot of where his mind was at during a dark, creative and transformative time. Chaos and clarity in musical form, a record built from trauma, truth and the New York streets that raised him. He never imagined it would become what it did: a cult classic with a revered mystique that continues to be quoted and debated 20 years later. This album captured ILL BILL at his most urgent, most aggressive and most alert to the madness around him.

For the first time in two decades, “What’s Wrong With Bill?” is being reissued on 2LP vinyl, a complete capsule including an alternate variant cover, 20th anniversary commemorative OBI strip, and, for the first time ever, a cassette edition, alongside a remastered limited edition CD. This is more than nostalgia, it’s encapsulated arcana, proudly representative of an era when Hip Hop was dangerous, fearless and alive. This one is for the true believers who never forgot.

The song titles on Van Halen's aptly titled Fair Warning don't lie. The likes of "Unchained," "Mean Street," "Push Comes to Shove," "One Foot Out the Door," and more indicate the mood the band channels on its double-platinum 1981 record — the nastiest, darkest, and fiercest album of the group's storied career. For the fourth time in four years, Van Halen throws down the gauntlet to all challengers and emerges victorious.


Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set plays with unfettered clarity, dynamics, and immediacy. Benefitting from superb groove definition, an ultra-low noise floor, and dead-quiet surfaces, this vinyl edition captures what went down in the studio with tremendous realism and involving presence.

Taking a more controlled approach in the studio and still completing everything in less than two weeks, Van Halen and producer Ted Templeman relied on studio amplifiers to direct the sound. Further diverging from the live-on-the-floor approach of its earlier albums, the ensemble also employed overdubs to great effect. The result: Dense, stacked architecture that underlines the hard-hitting tenor of the songs — and which comes alive like never before on this reference edition that looks as good as it sounds.

The premium packaging and gorgeous presentation befit the reissue's select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Aurally and visually, it is made for listeners who want to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, including the iconic cover art adopted from William Kurelek's haunting painting, "The Maze."

Isolated frames from Kurelek's childhood-inspired work — including a man bashing his head into a brick wall, a guy pinning down an adversary as he delivers bare-fist blows to his face and others watch with apparent glee, a boy tied down on a conveyer belt and being sent through the equivalent of a meat saw — adorn the front and back covers. The sunnier visual disposition of Van Halen's prior efforts gives way to something sinister and tortured, traits reflective of the music within. The band members, too, are visually depicted not in glamorous shots but in a serious black-and-white portrait in which the quartet is clad in black leather jackets.

Tough, aggressive, stark: Fair Warning comes on like a series of bare-knuckled punches to the solar plexus and boasts lyrical narratives to match. Though not a concept record, the concise album revolves around themes of roughing it on the streets and struggling to survive amid dim prospects. Singer David Lee Roth reportedly penned many of the initial lyrics after traveling to Haiti and observing extreme poverty. The characters and situations populating Fair Warning reflect hardscrabble existence, last-chance desperation, and underlying danger.

Witness the crazies, poor folks, and hunters of “Mean Street”; the former prom queen turned pornographic actress on “Dirty Movies”; the menace and vice of “Sinners Swing!”; the streetwise hustle of “Unchained”; the isolation and alienation of “Push Comes to Shove”; the desire for escape on “One Foot Out the Door”: A carefree California beach party Fair Warning is not.

Having said he felt angry and frustrated during the sessions, guitarist Eddie Van Halen uses the forceful arrangements as a playground for his seemingly unlimited arsenal. Supported by a crack rhythm section and a hyped-up Roth, he performs with an almost impossible combination of punk-like intensity, technical finesse, lyrical fluidity, and unbridled emotion. The virtuoso was increasingly butting heads with Templeton and seeking a freedom in the studio he believed denied him.

No wonder he plays like a bat out of hell. Listen to the rapid-fire manner in which he slaps the high and low E strings on the 12th fret of his instrument on “Mean Street,” instilling the tune with funk flair and metal-spiked sharpness. For the pouty strut of “Dirty Movies,” Eddie Van Halen contributes slide guitar magic made possible after he sawed off the lower portion of a Gibson SG so he could reach further down the fretboard.

Related intensity, urgency, and daredevil momentum punctuate the surging “Sinner’s Swing!” A heavily flanged, delicately melodic introduction frames the attitudinal “Hear About It Later,” among the most creative arrangements of Van Halen’s career. And do riffs come any bigger or magnetic than those on the high-wire kick of “Unchained”? As for the out-of-left-field “Sunday in the Park,” an instrumental composed on an Electro-Harmonix micro-synthesizer: Who but Eddie Van Halen to supply creep factor in such an ingenious way?

Despite selling fewer quantities than Van Halen’s prior efforts, Fair Warning remains for many diehards the record that epitomizes all of the band’s immense strengths —Roth’s manic energy and tongue-wagging humor, Alex Van Halen’s rhythmic heartbeat-in-your-chest bombast, and Michael Anthony’s lucid bass lines included. Arriving when the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and new-wave movements were taking flight, it signaled a shot across the bow from a band determined to stay a step ahead and provide proof nobody could touch what it delivered.

More than four decades later, Fair Warning still sounds that alarm.

It was December 2015 when Simon Weiss delivered his first EP for Voyage Direct, an impressively intergalactic affair full of supersonic synthesizer arpeggio lines, Motor City influences and robotic drum machine hits. Two years on, the experienced Dutch producer returns to action for the first time since, in the process delivering another quartet of starry-eyed productions.
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Through releases on Deepermotions, Rush Hour and Hometaping is Killing Music, Weiss has established a reputation for combining a deep understanding of dancefloor dynamics with a sci-fi inspired futurist aesthetic. Both of these complimentary traits are much in evidence on his second outing for Voyage Direct.

Weiss blasts off via Brain Fever', where raw, mind-altering arpeggio bass, fuzzy drum machine hits, spacey chords and alien electronics thrust our hero skywards. Think of it as techno for funk-fuelled, Italo-disco loving astronauts whose journey to the end of the universe is only just underway. This intergalactic funk blueprint is explored further on the deeper and more melodious You Want A Cigarette', where Weiss's vocoder vocals wrap themselves around mutant TB-303 lines, rush-inducing chords and clattering machine percussion.

On Space Ghetto (Booty)', our hero celebrates the discovery of previously unknown worlds in the only way he knows how. With kaleidoscopic, full-throttle electronic motifs and funk-fuelled synth-bass to the fore, Weiss offers his own unique take on electrofunk. Pleasingly fuzzy and tightly wrapped in the syncopated drum machine handclaps of ghetto-house, it's a typically far-sighted and attractive proposition.

With just two minutes to go until his spacecraft touches down on alien territory, Weiss rounds things off via the melancholic chord progressions and heartfelt vocoder vocals of Intro', a beat-free excursion just tailor made for dramatic set openings and spine-tingling mix endings. He may be stepping into unknown territory, but it won't be the last you'll hear from Simon Weiss.

Moving freely through time and space via experimental DIY recordings since 2009, Joasihno return with their fourth album "Spots".

“Find your spot in the shade,” a truly laid-back and incredibly soft-spoken MC once advised, yet in a world that seems to get shadier every day, it’s probably time to finally get out and face the sun. Southern German experimental pop duo Joasihno – initial solo founder Cico Beck (The Notwist, Aloa Input, Spirit Fest) and drummer/composer Nico Sierig (Instrument, Fehler Kuti) – seem to know exactly when it’s time to shine. Idiosyncratic genre tweakers since day one, they have been operating at their own pace, mostly staying in their own shady corner. Yet, almost a decade after their most recent “Meshes” (an album that came with a whole legion of tiny music robots), it’s high time for them to take over more corners, to reclaim even more spots between lo-fi and sci-fi, retro electronica and contemporary classic. Drawing upon influences as varied as Reich, Riley, and Ryuichi, múm, Meek, and Moondog, while also nodding to other experimental twosomes (e.g. The Books), the duo’s fourth full-length “Spots” is set to arrive via Alien Transistor in late 2025.

Leaving soulless automation and all things artificial to others, Joasihno launch the latest record on “2 Squares” that feel like a peaceful, almost bucolic version of retro space age: lights blink ever so softly as easy-going bass tones point at today’s introspective flight arc. Electronic shapes align and things lift off – with a majestic 8-bit sunrise soon appearing right in front of us. Whereas playful title song “Spots” is a miniature Rube Goldberg kind of device, with quirky plucked strings and glitches setting off more and more contraption layers, “Crackleboom” is uncharted energy, an open landscape, an expanding bonfire that leads to a long-forgotten piano, all dust-covered in some kind of saloon. Space might be only noise to others, here, it’s foreboding screeches (“Dizzle Whistle”) that make room for A-side center piece “Forest Lights”: a steady beat that lures us to a clearance in the woods. Things break and shatter in the distance, but this spot right here is for hypnosis, dancing, sylvan spirits. And yeah, it’s surprisingly hot down here in the undergrowth…

Opening side B with a fun banger that takes the unhinged dancing to the playground – “Characa Orb.” feels like French kids on swings going crazy, a tipsy, tongue-in-cheek electro blow-out between Oizo and Orbis Tertius –, things get even more cinematic throughout the second half. Even the cheapest, lo-fiest gear is sufficient to make “The Slow Hour” glow like true, timeless pop royalty. In fact, the very same pop spirits roam and celebrate freely in the chirpy coves of mesmerizing “Detune Lagoon” – more hand-crafted sci-fi/lo-fi loops you’ll only find after facing the ghosts of Lynch or Sakamoto on those night-time trails under the “Deep Moon”. It’s all DIY spots, spots that leave room to dream or dangle, drape yourself over or dive into. Returning to the leafy bower on a melancholy post rock tip, we eventually learn that “Death Is Real” – and so we’re left with a laterna magica that turns and turns and turns. It’s a beautiful spot where light and shadows keep on dancing, just like they’ve always done, ever since the dawn of this madcap universe.

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

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

AOKI takamasa and Tujiko Noriko’s 2005 album »28« has become a cornerstone in the artists’ respective discographies. 20 years after its initial release, Keplar issues it on vinyl for the very first time. Three years in the making, »28« saw the sound artist and the avant-pop singer-songwriter combine their distinct aesthetics for an album that defied categorisation. Their combination of advanced electronic experimentation and pop appeal paved the way for a new generation of artists and turned »28« into an enduring fan favourite. Remastered by Stephan Mathieu, the reissue comes with a brand-new artwork by Joji Koyama and a changed track listing—authorised by Takamasa and Tujiko—for the vinyl version to fit it on a single LP, while the digital version remains identical to the original release.

Tujiko and Takamasa first shared the stage together after the turn of the millennium. Both were emerging solo artists, with Takamasa a mainstay on the Progressive Form label and Tujiko forging a connection with Mego in Vienna, Austria. »I simply liked Noriko’s voice and music, and since we often performed at the same events, it felt like a natural progression for us to start working together,« remembers Takamasa. They first collaborated in 2002 for two shows at the Fondation Cartier in Paris and at SonarLab in Barcelona, respectively. The first joint piece was a rework of Tujiko’s »Fly« from »Hard Ni Sasete (Make Me Hard)« by Takamasa, appearing as the album opener »Fly2« on »28.«

After that, the Paris-based Tujiko and Takamasa, still based in Osaka, worked sporadically and remotely on new material. For the first two years of their collaboration, the two met in the context of live events or Takamasa’s visits to the French capital to discuss their process and exchange hard drives while also occasionally sending each other CDrs in the mail. »Aoki made beats and sounds that complemented my music perfectly, building the foundation on which my voice could float,« Tujiko says today. Takamasa used hardware such as the Nord Modular, the Korg Z1, and the Korg ER-1, while also working with different kinds of software and plug-ins as well as Logic. Tujiko was using Cubase, her preferred piece of gear at the time being an AKAI MPC.

After Takamasa moved to Paris in 2004, this enabled the duo to finish the album together in person. Starting with its subtle use of glitches to the almost-anarchic way in which it deals with the structures of a song, »28« came to be an incomparably intricate album. 20 years on, it remains timeless because of its flawless synthesis of the cutting-edge avant-garde ideas of early 2000s electronica with an idiosyncratic but accessible pop sentiment. Both artists look back fondly—though not uncritically, with Takamasa noting a certain »youthfulness« in his contributions—to the album that was titled after their respective age at that time. »Maybe we should make ›51‹ now?,« quips Tujiko. See you in three years, perhaps.

"“Veruschka” is a unique film within the Italian cinematic landscape of the early 1970s — halfway between experimental cinema, visual art, and fashion. Directed by photographer Franco Rubartelli, it tells (in a highly symbolic and almost dreamlike way) the story of Veruschka von Lehndorff, the famous model and muse of the director, who plays herself in a journey of inner exploration and alienation through Africa and the world of fashion photography.
It is not a narrative film in the traditional sense, but rather a visual and sensory experience, made of extraordinary imagery, contemplative rhythm, and a constant sense of aesthetic melancholy. And for this very reason, Ennio Morricone’s score plays a fundamental role: it is the true emotional voice of the film.
For Veruschka, Morricone composed one of his most delicate and spiritual works. The soundtrack is a perfect balance between avant- garde and lyricism, between melody and sonic experimentation."

Out on Madrid's leading label for braindance, breakcore, acid, and experimental electronics, it marks a fearless new chapter in electronic music. Amidst a sea of mediocrity and plagiarism, I'm Not Here stands as a testament to the uniqueness of the Cornish Braindance scene, which has given rise to some of the greatest producers in electronic dance music. Here, Benjamin James demonstrates that he is the torchbearer of that legacy, delivering anthems for a world spiraling in self-alienation--where identity flickers between screens and silence.

10 year anniversary edition of Kreng's massive »Works for Abattoir Férme 2007 - 2011”« 4 LPs worth of slow, skin crawling cinematic ambience made for the Belgian theatre group Abattoir Fermé.

It could hardly be a better time to again dive deep into Kreng and Abattoir Fermé's disturbingly beautiful underground worlds. Through 8 full- length vinyl sides we are transported through the most terrifying, shadow- filled, down-right bizarre moments of the subconscious. What could be the sound of your darkest dreams or most surreal fantasies gradually unfolds throughout the three and a half hour duration. Exactly this is what Abattoir Fermé specialises in, and Pepijn Caudron's scores perfectly reflect and accompanies both this theatricality as well as our own fears and desires in a masterful way.

Each extended side is crafted from an arsenal of samples, disintegrating vinyl and corroded tape, and Pepijn Caudron manipulates these sounds in a way that belies the sources. Rather than allow the sounds to emerge, they stay trapped beneath swathes of noise, tape delay and oppressive bass giving us a compositions that emerge like a cross between William Basinski, Jerry Goldsmith (circa Alien) and Henryk Górecki.’ »Works for Abattoir Fermé« is not for the faint of heart, but for the rest of us it might be just what the Doctor ordered...

Filippo Diana's “The Haunted Palace” is the second album of unreleased tracks published by Musica Per Immagini, or a sort of soundtrack for an imaginary horror film set in a bloody past, ispired by the book “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward” by Howard Phillips Lovecraft. The artist formerly known as Joe Drive used analog and digital synthesizers, as well as microphones and computers, to describe in notes the ancestral practices of resurrection of the dead accomplished by a shy and unsuspected character, who slowly transforms into an alien, inspiring both fright and terror.

The Alien Dub Orchestra is ragtag collective of Bavarian musicians, featuring members of The Notwist and G.Rag y los hermanos Patchekos. The cohort formed around the idea of performing the standards of the fabled Breadminster Songbook, aka the back-catalogue of lone dubman Elijah Minnelli. Minnelli is known for constructing wheezy, forlorn odes to his hometown, both as highly sought-after self-released 7" singles, and a critically-acclaimed debut album, ‘Perpetual Musket’ for FatCat Records, lauded by the likes of The Guardian, The Wire, and The Quietus. ‘The Alien Dub Orchestra: Plays the Breadminster Songbook’ finds group covering Minnelli’s cumbia-infused dub reggae with full band, playing an eclectic array of instruments including: guiro, accordion, melodica, sousaphone, trumpet and assorted percussion.

The tale begins in 2022, when Minnelli was invited to lend his unique dubbing style to a pair of remixes for The Notwist, and what followed was an ever-flourishing relationship between the Breadminster native and the wider Munich scene. The seeds of the Alien Dub Orchestra were sown during a support gig for The Notwist, where assorted musicians joined Minnelli for a encore, reinterpreting one of his dub remixes across woodwind, brass and assorted percussion.

“The idea of real, competent professionals playing something you’ve muddled together on a computer in a damp basement is quite overwhelming,” reflects Minnelli on the process, “hearing them interpret and improve these melodies is a real joy and privilege.”

Despite the non-traditional origins of the source material, the inherent musicality of Minnelli’s songwriting shines through across his releases, and this creative kinship is what attracted the Orchestra to reimagining his work. The first live collaboration led to recording sessions and further gigs, with the Orchestra building a full set of Minnelli’s music.

The resulting album puts forward the strongest case yet of the shared musical throughline between the acts, where cumbia, dub and folk sensibilities coalesce to something all together unique. The tracks are wrought new, with melodies fleshed out and broader instrumentation expanding the sonic possibilities of the compositions. The tactility of the tracks is perhaps best demonstrated on the gorgeous ‘Vine and Fig Tree’, with it’s layed vocals and expressive bassline returning as a cavorting sousaphone line. Elsewhere, fan favourite ‘SLATS’ sounds as if it was simply written to be performed this way.

To further instill the cylindrical nature of these collaborations, the entire second half of the album is made up of dub versions of the Orchestra’s renditions. For these dubs, Minnelli is joined by Raimund Wong, who had caught his ear with his ambitious live sets, a daisy chain of tape machines and FX pedals. Again, despite their differing creative processes, the two bonded over a shared love of dub music. Each dub was a one-take, with Minnelli riding the faders and Wong’s filters and FX supplying a sound that doesn’t seek to imitate dub, so much as it tries to be it’s own chaotic self. The droning, psychedelic hypnosis of ‘Pundit Dub’ stretches the material to a whole new realm that feels outside of anything else Minnelli has produced before, an ode to the benefits of recycling sound if ever there was one. The whole second half is a perfect closing note to an album that is undoubtedly a love letter to folk tradition, dub ideology and, most importantly, the joy of uninhibited collaboration.

​Elijah Minnelli - voc, guiro, percussion
Philip Gross - accordion, melodica
Theresa Loibl - clarinet, melodica
Cico Beck - electronics, keyboards
Sascha Schwegeler - congas, steel drum, percussion
Micha Acher - sousaphone, trumpet
Markus Acher - drums, voc
Dub mixes performed live by Elijah Minnelli & Raimund Wong at Breadminster County Council Studios

With »Roto«, Derek Piotr revisits the aqueous terrain first explored in his 2016 album »Drono«, where the paradox of water’s stillness and perpetual motion was refracted into looping voices and glitching textures. Conceived as a »spiritual successor« and recorded in 2019, the album has lain dormant for six years before surfacing on Discreet Archive. That stretch of silence seems to have deepened its charge – the sound feels unearthed rather than made, like a whirlpool biding its time in obscurity until now.

Unlike »Drono«’s mosaic of shorter pieces, »Roto« unfurls as two expansive half-hour tracks, allowing Piotr to probe repetition with greater intensity. Vowels accumulate until they shimmer with alien sentience, drones grow dense and psychoacoustic, and the smallest digital artifacts flicker like neural sparks. The result is a work that denies familiarity; recurrence here only breeds strangeness, unspooling into a procession of hidden pulses and altered voices that resist prediction, drawing the listener deeper into a submerged, otherworldly space.

Derek Piotr is a folklorist, researcher and performer whose work focuses primarily on the human voice. His work covers practices including fieldwork, vocal performance, preservation and autoethnography; and is primarily concerned with tenderness, fragility, beauty and brutality. He has collaborated with artists including Scott Solter, Nathan Salsburg and Thomas Brinkmann across various disciplines.

He is lead archivist and creative director of the Fieldwork Archive.

Introducing the Evil B-Side Twins — A New Era from Yazzus & DJ TOOL

Two of the most unpredictable forces in the underground are colliding at full velocity: YAZZUS and DJ TOOL are proud to launch Evil Twin Rekords — a label and collaborative project born from the wildest corners of their shared sonic imaginations.
Under the moniker The Evil B-Side Twins, the duo are setting out to warp time and space through a blazing fusion of trance, gnarly breaks, and techno rhythms. Their sound? Think hyper-speed rave transmissions beamed in from another galaxy — distorted basslines, and acidic euphoria intersecting 90’s psychedelic textures as they soundtrack a playful, alien-friendly universe. It’s high-energy, no-rules, evil as hell club music with a space-age edge. And their debut EP Relentless Spirit delivers just that.
Four rave-ready ‘in your face’ anthems, breaking the boundaries of modern electronic music. A collision of catchy grooves, iconic motifs from the old school trance world and mental melodies that you won’t forget easily.
Evil Twin Rekords isn’t just a label. It’s a wormhole into a sound that’s too futuristic, too feral, and too fun to fit into anyone’s algorithm. Expect inter-dimensional anthems, and records that feel like they’ve been smuggled from the B-side of a black hole.

This is rave culture turned inside out — full-throttle, unapologetically weird, and always one step ahead. From the UK to Scandinavia let the band expand your horizon and welcome you to the Evil Era. Listen without prejudice.

The artwork is a specially commissioned portrait of the twins, hand painted by friend and collaborator Ryo Koike, known for his eerie, whimsical fantastical style. Throughout his visual ident, he provides an imaginative window into the twins’ cosmos and beyond.

Editions Mego presents Bosko, landing exactly 30 years after the initial General Magic flights into the fantastic; the legendary first Mego release, a collaboration with Pita whereby all sounds were harnessed from the buzzing, drinking, humming sounds of fridges MEGO 001 General Magic & Pita and a 12” with Elin called Die Mondlandung (The Moon Landing) MEGO 002 which embarked on a minimal techno template so austere and strange it was one of the historic progenitors of austere and wonky rhythms alongside Sakho and other European explorers.

The initial return of the playful and mystical Austrian outfit General Magic came with the 20th year anniversary vinyl reissue of their classic debut Frantz eMEGO 010. A record so audacious and playful it still baffles as much as it entertains. At some point whilst working on this reissue GM’s Ramon Bauer and Andi Pieper were spurred on to rummage around with ideas and tools once more and after more than two decades of inactivity sonic sorcery was conjured once again. Live shows in honour of Peter Rehberg were performed in Vienna and London. Softbop, a limited risograph collaboration with Tina Frank came with the first new recordings as a digital download came out discreetly online. The first full length album following Rechenkönig in 2000 MEGO 032 “Nein Aber Ja” released in 2023 on Finlay Shakespeare’s GOTO Records on CD and cassette. An ongoing series of mix tapes online further highlights their interests encapsulating a new found angle on electronic mayhem. All of these elements retain the wildly eclectic and ecstatic glow that only they can harness and hand out to an unprepared world.

Now, we have General Magic’s second official full length comeback recording, Bosko. The new album is initially notable prior to the needle hitting the wax or the cursor identifying a track due to the artwork. Made by long term collaborator Tina Frank, this is Frank’s first analogue artwork, with a painting of a happy/nervous machine thing hovering in a landscape of no discernible identity. It’s quasi science fiction hovering amongst the potential for fun. Suited to the music? Natürlich.

Bosko sees Bauer and Pieper update and reframe their original investigations with a fresh supply of head scratching, heart racing tunes that hit the inexplicable with a wild mesh of drums, pianos, synthetic voices and all manner of immaterial sonic play. Startling sonics shock the ears on Club Duchamp which sounds like a conversation between synthetic adult ants in an environment still in development. Elfer features vocals supplied by a female-ish voice who, whilst grappling melody, has trouble executing a firm identity. Noorenhalt catapults along a mainframe of syncopation so unwieldy it feels like the voice, which is utterly alien, provides the only comfort. Seite 5 inhabits a fuzzy zone where a synthetic Horn of Jericho type ambience competes with rhythms never quite sure of who they are. Rise of the Ombré raises the spectral dread. Is this Science Fact? Absolutely nothing within Bosko is predictable.

The amount of change in the miasma of existence and the things we touch in order to make things has shifted so exponentially we are at the point where minds are starting to glaze over. All of this makes the return of the always original, always surprising, always fresh and exciting General Magic totally in tune with the artificial intelligent apocalyptic age we currently inhabit. The tools may have changed but the wonderfully warped gaze of Bosko offers a fresh new vision of perplexing funk and robotic punk.

Rivet’s new album for Editions Mego is an uplifting and joyous affair coming in the wake of tragedy and disenchantment. It is yet another rebirth from an artist willing to take a step back and reprise the current situation he is in. Mika Hallbäck has a long credible history in the Swedish underground. First recognised for his industrial techno works under the Grovskopa moniker he worked privately on more experimental works that eventually came out as On Feather and Wire, an album released on Editions Mego in 2020. After much acclaim for this bold new direction that blended electronic abstraction, pop and industrial forms into a heavy synthetic trip two tragedies struck. One was the passing of label boss Peter Rehberg and then the passing of his dog Lilo, who was as close as a companion one could have. These events led to the release of the more unsettling follow up L+P-2 (Lilo and Pita minus two) on Midnight Shift Records in 2023. Peck Glamour sees Rivet return to the reawakened Editions Mego with an album of optimism inspired by reconciliation with loss and further explorations of new mental/sonic realms.

Hallbäck defines his approach as not being married to any particular machine, instrument, process or genre. However he holds a particular affinity to sampling, of which, he says, provides the dirt and grit amongst what would otherwise be pristine, generic machine music. The contemporary crate digging method of scouring obscure download music bogs for unique sounds was his preferred research practice.

Peck Glamour is an album full of tracks brimming with the excitement of exploration. It's the results of a mind informed by punk, industrial, techno, dancefloor, disappointment, trauma and rebirth. Here the synthetic and authentic is viewed simply as the same means of human rationale and expression.

The opening, ‘Catch Up to Light’, sets the scene with ecstatic and odd fluorescent vocals sliding amongst crystalline likembe whilst synths swirl amongst the external festivities. ‘Orbiting Empty Cocoon’ is somewhat a homage to the alien sound worlds of The Orb, one which takes the listener deeper into a mind melting array of teased potential as visual elements are executed in a mask of audio wizardry and euphoric staccato rhythms, the later being a nod to Singeli music. ‘Patitur Butcher’ is more dance frontal utilising the Ghatam drum and a YouTube rip of a Chinese language lesson. ‘Plastic Bag Putain’ was made during the beginning of Russia's invasion of Ukraine and should be clear of its intent. ‘All that Heaven Allows’ is a marimba cover of an imaginary Love Parade anthem. 'Kyrie Geire’ potentially briefly fills the void left by the demise of Coil. The entire trip of Peck Glamour is sewn up with ‘We left before we came’ whereby extraneous recordings of double bass player Gregory Vartian-Foss (tuning/strumming/moving the bass) are superimposed with local field recordings to create a gorgeous bed of sounds acting as an exciting exit music to this sharp collection of cinematic ear excursions.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

After its first ever test press on Crack Records in 1999, already both sides was produced by Dj inc aka Alien5ive in the end of 1997 for the UK Based Record Label "No Smoking Records". In December 2024, Dj inc has made some effective arrangements on the original Tracks and the Repress is now scheduled for July 2025.

This Release is one of the very rare "No Smoking Records" Sounds those were high covieted in the Drum and Bass scene back in the days. The EP smashed the Dancefloor. Now you can preorder the official Repress of the Darkside E.P. fresh and straight outta the Studio. Both sides represent the fresh Club Sound from the mid to the late ninties Drum and Bass Jump Up era

Compiled by Philip King
“And then came the rise of synth pop : blokes with dodgy haircuts hunched over keyboard-operated
machines stuffed with wires and do-it-yourself tone oscillators making sounds like a brood of geese
passing gas in a wind tunnel. Whoopee! This is the way the ‘70s ended : not with a blood-curdling bang
bang but with a cheap, synthesized, emasculating whimper.”
NICK KENT, NME.

All The Young Droids: Junkshop Synth Pop 1978-1985 is a new compilation that charts the
underbelly of the epoch-defining sound of the synthesiser in 80s popular music. Compiled by Philip
King (previously seen compiling All The Young Droogs, Glitterbest and Boobs - The Junkshop
Glam Discotheque), the music here connects the dots between DIY synth enthusiasts grappling with
new, cheap synthesisers at the tail-end of punk and wannabe, jobbing songwriters enthral to the new
music pioneered by Gary Numan, Depeche Mode and Daniel Miller’s Mute Records. Featuring rare
tracks of auto-didactic progressive pop music, proto-techno punk, shoot-for-the-stars-land-in-the-gutter
chart flops and heralded, underground synth classics, School Daze paints a picture of beautiful failure.
Complete with extensive sleeve notes written by King and never before seen imagery, all 24 tracks
were remastered by RPM in-house engineer Simon Murphy, many from vinyl copies due to lost master
tapes. The story told on All The Young Droids is one of the dawning opportunity presented by both the
emergence to the market of cheaper analog synthesisers and the distribution networks plus indie labels
that exploded with the advent of punk music in 1976. While the music that sprouted out all over the
globe in the wake of these factors was decried as fake, plastic, a refutation of punk’s guitar-led
revolution, it’s telling that much of the music on All The Young Droids.. was created in bedrooms,
ramshackle studios and home-made set ups with often borrowed equipment. In the era of record labels
jumping to capitalise on the success of The Sex Pistols, The Clash (both on major labels, of course)
these artists struggled to stand out from a new gold-rush with next to no budget or PR team. With radio
and labels desperate for the new Yazoo, what resulted was a testament to necessity being the mother
of invention.

At the time, the synthesiser was the music of the future, a shiny new machine that could paint like an
orchestra with a single finger and a 4-track. In the hands of Manchester avant-pranksters Gerry & The
Holograms it’s a pulsing, sardonic weapon.. the only instrument on the Messthetics classic lampooning
of New Wave fashion. In Hamburg, a 16 year old Andreas Dorau used it to write and record (with his
female classmates on vocals) a global smash in Fred Vom Jupiter (later licensed to Mute Records).
The hard-to-find English version (Fred From Jupiter, natch) is included here. Many artists with alreadystoried careers caught the bug and recorded synthesiser-fuelled peons to space, computers, the future
and, of course, love-interests. Harry Kakoulli, late of Squeeze, recorded a solo album in 1979 that
included the incredible power-synth-pop smash-that-never-smashed I’m On A Rocket. Similarly, Ian
North of Neo and American Power Pop stalwarts Milk ’n’ Cookies bought a Korg MS20 and used a
tape machine to record We’re Not Lonely, an absolute lost-classic of minimal synth pop. We’re Not
Lonely also features on the Junkshop Synth Pop sampler 7” twinned with John Howard unreleased
track You Will See, released April 12th 2025.

There are plenty of compilation debuts in evidence. Sole Sister were a mysterious trio who were
featured on the Scaling Triangles compilation of female-fronted, queer-adjacent post-punk /
underground music that also featured The Petticoats. Selwin Image were from San Francisco and
featured members of the recently defunct power pop/punk group The Pushups. Their stupidly catchy
The Unknown fizzes with New Wave energy - think XTC to Sparks but remains unreleased until now.
Dream Unit’s A Drop In The Ocean is an early synth wave cut, positively teaming with Joy Division
instrumentation, previously only released on a long-forgotten and super rare, self-released EP.
Incandescent Luminaire’s Famous Names belies an archetypal struggle of a small-town trying to
make it in a cruel industry but is a thrilling New Romantic-Synth Wave cross over with a OMD
gloominess that’s a joy to hear. Feminist Minimal Wave track I Am A Time Bomb by performance artist
Peta Lilly and Michael Chance is a revelation destined for new found cult status. It was released on 7”
and lost until now.

The flipside to the subterranean, never-made-it synth pop mentioned above are the ambitious, even
fruity attempts at success that have a perennial elegance to their confidence. New Jersey-ite Billy
London (real name Ed Barth) tried to cash in on the synth boom with Woman, released by a major
label, a lurching new wave track built on the Louie Louie rhythm and a wonderfully camp Lou Reedstyle sleazy vocal before exploding in the synthesised chorus. The song bombed but with a chorus like
this, you have to wonder why? Ex-Glitter Band member John Springate’s My Life is truly epic, with
doomed chord progressions and massive sounding drums turning into at least 3 different songs in the
course of the track. Before you wonder what’s going on the song resolves with a glorious return to the
main refrain.

The dry-ice-dressed dance floor is well catered for too. Design’s Premonition and Vision’s Lucifer’s
Friend are stone-cold minimal synth bangers, well loved but given a new lease of life here. The
Warlord’s The Ultimate Warlord was released in 1978, a homespun proto Hi NRG banger that was
later re-recorded by The Immortals in Canada who had a club hit with it. One-man- band Disco
Volante’s No Motion was re-issued by Synth wave label Medical in 2012 but makes its first vinyl
compilation appearance here. Close your eyes and you can imagine what Lawrence of Felt would have
sounded like with some cheap Korgs a little earlier in his career. Gibraltar-based trio The Microbes
imagined a computer programming people to dance - how prescient - and ended up with a propulsive,
robo-funk track with splendid rubbery bass playing over a tectonic drum machine. Previously picked up
by Belgian label Stroom TV, Dee Jay Bert & Eagle’s heavily Euro-accented I Am Your Master
demands the listener to “come to paradise!” In a frankly terrifying manner.
All The Young Droids is the first compilation to peel away from the narrative that dour, Minimal Synth
and Cold Wave were the only musical children of the first rush of synth pop. Philip King and School
Daze Records describe a much more complicated world: along with the austere, Brutalist children of
Daniel Miller (who produced Alan Burnham’s Bowie-Low-influenced Science Fiction here) was a
plethora of desperate cash-ins, accidental mainstream hits, ambitious pop dramas and major label
punts that went nowhere. Crucially, the compilation blurs the line between junk and treasure. What if the
two things are interchangeable. What if it’s all science fiction?

Compiled by Philip King
“And then came the rise of synth pop : blokes with dodgy haircuts hunched over keyboard-operated
machines stuffed with wires and do-it-yourself tone oscillators making sounds like a brood of geese
passing gas in a wind tunnel. Whoopee! This is the way the ‘70s ended : not with a blood-curdling bang
bang but with a cheap, synthesized, emasculating whimper.”
NICK KENT, NME.

All The Young Droids: Junkshop Synth Pop 1978-1985 is a new compilation that charts the
underbelly of the epoch-defining sound of the synthesiser in 80s popular music. Compiled by Philip
King (previously seen compiling All The Young Droogs, Glitterbest and Boobs - The Junkshop
Glam Discotheque), the music here connects the dots between DIY synth enthusiasts grappling with
new, cheap synthesisers at the tail-end of punk and wannabe, jobbing songwriters enthral to the new
music pioneered by Gary Numan, Depeche Mode and Daniel Miller’s Mute Records. Featuring rare
tracks of auto-didactic progressive pop music, proto-techno punk, shoot-for-the-stars-land-in-the-gutter
chart flops and heralded, underground synth classics, School Daze paints a picture of beautiful failure.
Complete with extensive sleeve notes written by King and never before seen imagery, all 24 tracks
were remastered by RPM in-house engineer Simon Murphy, many from vinyl copies due to lost master
tapes. The story told on All The Young Droids is one of the dawning opportunity presented by both the
emergence to the market of cheaper analog synthesisers and the distribution networks plus indie labels
that exploded with the advent of punk music in 1976. While the music that sprouted out all over the
globe in the wake of these factors was decried as fake, plastic, a refutation of punk’s guitar-led
revolution, it’s telling that much of the music on All The Young Droids.. was created in bedrooms,
ramshackle studios and home-made set ups with often borrowed equipment. In the era of record labels
jumping to capitalise on the success of The Sex Pistols, The Clash (both on major labels, of course)
these artists struggled to stand out from a new gold-rush with next to no budget or PR team. With radio
and labels desperate for the new Yazoo, what resulted was a testament to necessity being the mother
of invention.

At the time, the synthesiser was the music of the future, a shiny new machine that could paint like an
orchestra with a single finger and a 4-track. In the hands of Manchester avant-pranksters Gerry & The
Holograms it’s a pulsing, sardonic weapon.. the only instrument on the Messthetics classic lampooning
of New Wave fashion. In Hamburg, a 16 year old Andreas Dorau used it to write and record (with his
female classmates on vocals) a global smash in Fred Vom Jupiter (later licensed to Mute Records).
The hard-to-find English version (Fred From Jupiter, natch) is included here. Many artists with alreadystoried careers caught the bug and recorded synthesiser-fuelled peons to space, computers, the future
and, of course, love-interests. Harry Kakoulli, late of Squeeze, recorded a solo album in 1979 that
included the incredible power-synth-pop smash-that-never-smashed I’m On A Rocket. Similarly, Ian
North of Neo and American Power Pop stalwarts Milk ’n’ Cookies bought a Korg MS20 and used a
tape machine to record We’re Not Lonely, an absolute lost-classic of minimal synth pop. We’re Not
Lonely also features on the Junkshop Synth Pop sampler 7” twinned with John Howard unreleased
track You Will See, released April 12th 2025.

There are plenty of compilation debuts in evidence. Sole Sister were a mysterious trio who were
featured on the Scaling Triangles compilation of female-fronted, queer-adjacent post-punk /
underground music that also featured The Petticoats. Selwin Image were from San Francisco and
featured members of the recently defunct power pop/punk group The Pushups. Their stupidly catchy
The Unknown fizzes with New Wave energy - think XTC to Sparks but remains unreleased until now.
Dream Unit’s A Drop In The Ocean is an early synth wave cut, positively teaming with Joy Division
instrumentation, previously only released on a long-forgotten and super rare, self-released EP.
Incandescent Luminaire’s Famous Names belies an archetypal struggle of a small-town trying to
make it in a cruel industry but is a thrilling New Romantic-Synth Wave cross over with a OMD
gloominess that’s a joy to hear. Feminist Minimal Wave track I Am A Time Bomb by performance artist
Peta Lilly and Michael Chance is a revelation destined for new found cult status. It was released on 7”
and lost until now.

The flipside to the subterranean, never-made-it synth pop mentioned above are the ambitious, even
fruity attempts at success that have a perennial elegance to their confidence. New Jersey-ite Billy
London (real name Ed Barth) tried to cash in on the synth boom with Woman, released by a major
label, a lurching new wave track built on the Louie Louie rhythm and a wonderfully camp Lou Reedstyle sleazy vocal before exploding in the synthesised chorus. The song bombed but with a chorus like
this, you have to wonder why? Ex-Glitter Band member John Springate’s My Life is truly epic, with
doomed chord progressions and massive sounding drums turning into at least 3 different songs in the
course of the track. Before you wonder what’s going on the song resolves with a glorious return to the
main refrain.

The dry-ice-dressed dance floor is well catered for too. Design’s Premonition and Vision’s Lucifer’s
Friend are stone-cold minimal synth bangers, well loved but given a new lease of life here. The
Warlord’s The Ultimate Warlord was released in 1978, a homespun proto Hi NRG banger that was
later re-recorded by The Immortals in Canada who had a club hit with it. One-man- band Disco
Volante’s No Motion was re-issued by Synth wave label Medical in 2012 but makes its first vinyl
compilation appearance here. Close your eyes and you can imagine what Lawrence of Felt would have
sounded like with some cheap Korgs a little earlier in his career. Gibraltar-based trio The Microbes
imagined a computer programming people to dance - how prescient - and ended up with a propulsive,
robo-funk track with splendid rubbery bass playing over a tectonic drum machine. Previously picked up
by Belgian label Stroom TV, Dee Jay Bert & Eagle’s heavily Euro-accented I Am Your Master
demands the listener to “come to paradise!” In a frankly terrifying manner.
All The Young Droids is the first compilation to peel away from the narrative that dour, Minimal Synth
and Cold Wave were the only musical children of the first rush of synth pop. Philip King and School
Daze Records describe a much more complicated world: along with the austere, Brutalist children of
Daniel Miller (who produced Alan Burnham’s Bowie-Low-influenced Science Fiction here) was a
plethora of desperate cash-ins, accidental mainstream hits, ambitious pop dramas and major label
punts that went nowhere. Crucially, the compilation blurs the line between junk and treasure. What if the
two things are interchangeable. What if it’s all science fiction?

Compiled by Philip King
“And then came the rise of synth pop : blokes with dodgy haircuts hunched over keyboard-operated
machines stuffed with wires and do-it-yourself tone oscillators making sounds like a brood of geese
passing gas in a wind tunnel. Whoopee! This is the way the ‘70s ended : not with a blood-curdling bang
bang but with a cheap, synthesized, emasculating whimper.”
NICK KENT, NME.

All The Young Droids: Junkshop Synth Pop 1978-1985 is a new compilation that charts the
underbelly of the epoch-defining sound of the synthesiser in 80s popular music. Compiled by Philip
King (previously seen compiling All The Young Droogs, Glitterbest and Boobs - The Junkshop
Glam Discotheque), the music here connects the dots between DIY synth enthusiasts grappling with
new, cheap synthesisers at the tail-end of punk and wannabe, jobbing songwriters enthral to the new
music pioneered by Gary Numan, Depeche Mode and Daniel Miller’s Mute Records. Featuring rare
tracks of auto-didactic progressive pop music, proto-techno punk, shoot-for-the-stars-land-in-the-gutter
chart flops and heralded, underground synth classics, School Daze paints a picture of beautiful failure.
Complete with extensive sleeve notes written by King and never before seen imagery, all 24 tracks
were remastered by RPM in-house engineer Simon Murphy, many from vinyl copies due to lost master
tapes. The story told on All The Young Droids is one of the dawning opportunity presented by both the
emergence to the market of cheaper analog synthesisers and the distribution networks plus indie labels
that exploded with the advent of punk music in 1976. While the music that sprouted out all over the
globe in the wake of these factors was decried as fake, plastic, a refutation of punk’s guitar-led
revolution, it’s telling that much of the music on All The Young Droids.. was created in bedrooms,
ramshackle studios and home-made set ups with often borrowed equipment. In the era of record labels
jumping to capitalise on the success of The Sex Pistols, The Clash (both on major labels, of course)
these artists struggled to stand out from a new gold-rush with next to no budget or PR team. With radio
and labels desperate for the new Yazoo, what resulted was a testament to necessity being the mother
of invention.

At the time, the synthesiser was the music of the future, a shiny new machine that could paint like an
orchestra with a single finger and a 4-track. In the hands of Manchester avant-pranksters Gerry & The
Holograms it’s a pulsing, sardonic weapon.. the only instrument on the Messthetics classic lampooning
of New Wave fashion. In Hamburg, a 16 year old Andreas Dorau used it to write and record (with his
female classmates on vocals) a global smash in Fred Vom Jupiter (later licensed to Mute Records).
The hard-to-find English version (Fred From Jupiter, natch) is included here. Many artists with alreadystoried careers caught the bug and recorded synthesiser-fuelled peons to space, computers, the future
and, of course, love-interests. Harry Kakoulli, late of Squeeze, recorded a solo album in 1979 that
included the incredible power-synth-pop smash-that-never-smashed I’m On A Rocket. Similarly, Ian
North of Neo and American Power Pop stalwarts Milk ’n’ Cookies bought a Korg MS20 and used a
tape machine to record We’re Not Lonely, an absolute lost-classic of minimal synth pop. We’re Not
Lonely also features on the Junkshop Synth Pop sampler 7” twinned with John Howard unreleased
track You Will See, released April 12th 2025.

There are plenty of compilation debuts in evidence. Sole Sister were a mysterious trio who were
featured on the Scaling Triangles compilation of female-fronted, queer-adjacent post-punk /
underground music that also featured The Petticoats. Selwin Image were from San Francisco and
featured members of the recently defunct power pop/punk group The Pushups. Their stupidly catchy
The Unknown fizzes with New Wave energy - think XTC to Sparks but remains unreleased until now.
Dream Unit’s A Drop In The Ocean is an early synth wave cut, positively teaming with Joy Division
instrumentation, previously only released on a long-forgotten and super rare, self-released EP.
Incandescent Luminaire’s Famous Names belies an archetypal struggle of a small-town trying to
make it in a cruel industry but is a thrilling New Romantic-Synth Wave cross over with a OMD
gloominess that’s a joy to hear. Feminist Minimal Wave track I Am A Time Bomb by performance artist
Peta Lilly and Michael Chance is a revelation destined for new found cult status. It was released on 7”
and lost until now.

The flipside to the subterranean, never-made-it synth pop mentioned above are the ambitious, even
fruity attempts at success that have a perennial elegance to their confidence. New Jersey-ite Billy
London (real name Ed Barth) tried to cash in on the synth boom with Woman, released by a major
label, a lurching new wave track built on the Louie Louie rhythm and a wonderfully camp Lou Reedstyle sleazy vocal before exploding in the synthesised chorus. The song bombed but with a chorus like
this, you have to wonder why? Ex-Glitter Band member John Springate’s My Life is truly epic, with
doomed chord progressions and massive sounding drums turning into at least 3 different songs in the
course of the track. Before you wonder what’s going on the song resolves with a glorious return to the
main refrain.

The dry-ice-dressed dance floor is well catered for too. Design’s Premonition and Vision’s Lucifer’s
Friend are stone-cold minimal synth bangers, well loved but given a new lease of life here. The
Warlord’s The Ultimate Warlord was released in 1978, a homespun proto Hi NRG banger that was
later re-recorded by The Immortals in Canada who had a club hit with it. One-man- band Disco
Volante’s No Motion was re-issued by Synth wave label Medical in 2012 but makes its first vinyl
compilation appearance here. Close your eyes and you can imagine what Lawrence of Felt would have
sounded like with some cheap Korgs a little earlier in his career. Gibraltar-based trio The Microbes
imagined a computer programming people to dance - how prescient - and ended up with a propulsive,
robo-funk track with splendid rubbery bass playing over a tectonic drum machine. Previously picked up
by Belgian label Stroom TV, Dee Jay Bert & Eagle’s heavily Euro-accented I Am Your Master
demands the listener to “come to paradise!” In a frankly terrifying manner.
All The Young Droids is the first compilation to peel away from the narrative that dour, Minimal Synth
and Cold Wave were the only musical children of the first rush of synth pop. Philip King and School
Daze Records describe a much more complicated world: along with the austere, Brutalist children of
Daniel Miller (who produced Alan Burnham’s Bowie-Low-influenced Science Fiction here) was a
plethora of desperate cash-ins, accidental mainstream hits, ambitious pop dramas and major label
punts that went nowhere. Crucially, the compilation blurs the line between junk and treasure. What if the
two things are interchangeable. What if it’s all science fiction?

"Wind, Again" is Sary Moussa’s fourth studio album and second album on Other People. Based between France and Lebanon, Moussa returns with a riveting electro-acoustic album informed by his ever-changing relationships to space, listening, and resonance as well as his growing interest in the study of harmonics in electronic and electro-acoustic music.

Years in the making, “Wind, Again” approaches distinct musical worlds and languages by bringing together improvisations by musicians performing on Western and West Asian instruments such as the Hammond organ, clarinet, saz, and buzuk with electronic arrangements and textures. Rather than force a rapprochement of these musical worlds through the instruments, and keenly aware of the weighty sonic histories they carry, Moussa proposes another way through which they can exist together in contemporary electronic composition.

Composed of six tracks, each of which demonstrate an array of recording and processing techniques, the album generates moments of tension produced by the synthesis of textural, tonal, and harmonic encounters that Moussa calls “shadows”, which outline an impressionistic musical language, existing at the edge of familiarity. Such moments permeate tracks like “Everywhere at once” and “Violence” that open with the Hammond organ and the saz respectively and slowly reveal an expansive field of sounds that showcases each of the musicians’ characteristic performances and Moussa’s densely layered textures. It is a latent yet unrelenting tension through which the composer invokes rather than represents a collective experiential state, especially familiar to those who know his environment. In “Wind, Again” these shadows are articulations of sounds steeped in traditions they are never quite tethered to. Such articulations are implied and alluded to, they play within a musical reference without the latter explicitly existing in the recording, always teetering, never completely here nor there.
Sonically and musically, the album is fueled by the cultural, social, and personal realities that Moussa was brought up and lives in.

Both personal and musical ties with the musicians who feature on the album is central to Moussa’s practice. In the title track “I will never write a song about you”, musician Julia Sabra opens with rolled piano chords, followed by Paed Conca on clarinet and Abed Kobeissy on buzuk, before Moussa’s electronic processing pieces together, lifts, and sustains the melodic direction of the track that emerged from the musicians’ separate improvisations. For Moussa: “The initial connection between the three performances was made on a track that no longer existed, the original recording was both an obstacle and necessary step for the track we hear on the record. It’s as if we were all telling different stories and I pulled on the thread that held them together”. The track, and more generally the record, is tinged with a melancholy of things lost, though it never fully succumbs to it.
“Everything inside a circle”, Moussa’s most personal track and for which he provides the only vocals on the record, harkens back to a childhood memory of listening to music with his mother in a car: “There was a sound I was looking for — a memory of a sound and how I first heard it. This track is a hybrid of that memory and what I wanted to make of it”. The track relies heavily on generativesystems and perhaps embodies most the ambiguous quality of the record’s music in its refusal to be pinned down by one musical tradition or another.
“Wind, Again” is both familiar and alien, cold and warm; it pays homage to the mechanics, materials, and tactility of the instruments and converges acoustic and synthetic spaces. What anchors the sound of the album are the elements of a whole that cannot find its own idiosyncrasy and that is precisely why Moussa’s album is a tour de force.

Reedale Rise has already made his mark with releases on Frustrated Funk and Delsin, but this latest release shows there's a whole new side to his sound. If you think you know him, think again. He's come through with three tracks of pure futuristic depth, all infused with Detroit influence. Envision Blade Runner-inspired machinery, deep house grooves and endless soul--this EP is a must for any true enthusiast. Detroit's Big Strick lays down his iconic tough-soul-house swing on the remix, completing a record that channels the lost history of underwater alien civilisations.

Limited edition white vinyl (800 copies) The self-styled ritualistic electro-mechanical ensemble OSMIUM is a veritable supergroup. Made up of Oscar-winning composer and instrumentalist Hildur Gudnadóttir, veteran engineer and producer James Ginzburg, Senyawa's idiosyncratic vocalist Rully Shabara and Grammy-winning sound designer / producer Sam Slater, while each member brings along a laundry list of accolades, the project is far greater than the sum of its parts. Alloying burnished electroacoustic soundscapes with dense, metallic drones, barbed rhythms and buckled, bio-mechanical vocalizations, OSMIUM's eagerly awaited debut album doesn't try to cast a rigid future. Rather, it tempers a viscous flow of unorthodox speculations that smolders through the distant past, blazing a trail all the way to the frontier of fate. Absorbed by questions about the relationship between humans and technology, tradition and progression, the individual and the group, OSMIUM channel their experience and expertise into a set of forward-thinking sonic interrogations that skewer established cultural preconceptions. And although genre is acknowledged - the album draws from folk, doom metal, 20th century minimalism, industrial music and extreme noise - there's never a sense that it's riveted firmly in place. Widely known for her soundtrack work (including `Joker' and `Chernobyl') Gudnadóttir plays the halldorophone, a unique cello-like electroacoustic instrument designed by Halldór Ulfarsson that allows the performer to harness unstable feedback loops. Taking his cues from this process, Slater (who has worked alongside Jóhann Jóhannsson, Ben Frost and others) generates rhythms using a self-oscillating drum he designed with KOMA Elektronik and Subtext boss and Emptyset member Ginzburg responds in kind, producing booming tambura-like sonorities from a device he developed himself based on the monocord, an ancient single- stringed resonator. OSMIUM synchronize the three unique instruments using a custom system of robotics to generate basic rhythms that underpin their improvisations and experiments, and Shabara's alien tones supply the band with their conceptual fulcrum. The vocalist is one of South Asia's most recognizable underground artists, and the sounds he's able to create using exhaustively rehearsed extended techniques are so distinctive that he's been studied by scientists back home in Indonesia. Never weighed down by needless sound design or modish ornamentation, it's music that feels authentically experimental; OSMIUM have figured out an awkward symmetry between their discrete approaches, concentrating their gaze on the outcome rather than the process. The result is a work of science fiction that's driven by interaction, conversation and sensation.

LIMITED VINYL COMES IN CARDBOARD SLEEVE WITH BOOKLET!
OSTRANENIE is a collection of digitally manipulated, impressionistic piano miniatures — each named after blockbuster films and TV series. Improvised late at night as a reaction against passive media consumption, these pieces function as both homage and critique, navigating the space between classical impressionism and contemporary digital manipulation. They don’t just deconstruct traditional piano expression; they interrogate the emotional stakes of sound in an era where immersion culture flattens meaning and algorithmic logic erodes agency.

The album’s title references the Russian formalist Viktor Shklovsky’s concept of “ostranenie” (ɐstrɐˈnjenjɪj, estrangement/defamiliarization), a term he introduced in the early 1920s to describe art’s role in resisting the indifference of habitual perception.

“And so, held accountable for nothing, life fades into nothingness. Automation eats away at things, at clothes, at furniture, at our wives, and at our fear of war.”
—Viktor Shklovsky, Theory of Prose (1925)

Shklovsky saw art as a way to break through the anesthetizing effects of routine, stripping away the layers of habit that dull our senses. By making the familiar strange, art reclaims perception from the mechanical and the automatic. His argument wasn’t just a theoretical exercise — it was a response to a world rapidly consumed by industrialization, war machines, and the alienation of a technologically dominated modern life. In this context, he positioned artistic technique as something autonomous, distinct from mere social criticism or psychological reflection. Art seeks to remove “...the crust that the world of things deposits on our senses, with routine’s unending murder of the real.” Ben Ehrenreich on Serena Vitale’s Making Strange (The Nation, 2013)

This tension—between revolutionary/artistic and industrial technologies—defined the 20th century, and it continues to resonate today. The mechanization and automation that fueled the First World War’s devastation, alongside the social and economic turbulence of the 1920s, became central to the era’s self-conception. But just as technology was a source of alienation, it was also positioned as an agent of radical change. As the shock of modernity disrupted the human condition, it also became the driving force behind an ideological utopia — one that ultimately deformed into political totalitarianism — a paradox that remains unresolved.

OSTRANENIE plays within this contradiction. The music shifts seamlessly between an uncanny black MIDI dismantling of traditional piano virtuosity and moments of raw, fragile intimacy. The result is a work that resists automatic anonymity while questioning what it means to create in an era where the technological mediation of sound — and experience itself — is unavoidable: Art in the age of its technological constructedness.

Recently appearing alongside Ibrahim Maalouf on the show “Improbox” (TSF Jazz), or as the opening act for Vulfpeck at Jazz à Vienne 2024, Sampling is Beautiful Trio is made up of: Zajazza on turntables and samplers (produced for Gaël Faye, HomeboySandman...), Yacha Berdah on trumpet and bass (Grand Corps Malade, Ibrahim Maalouf...), Japhet Boristhène on drums (Saïan Supa Crew, Chassol, Shibuuya).

Sampling Is Beautiful is: “A trio, a collective, a vibe, a freedom, ...”
These are the words of the artist Kaynixe in the introduction to this record.
Each “captured” sample is highlighted, cherished, reversed, modified… and finally used as a melodic or rhythmic basis to construct a new piece. With a certain black magic or piracy, this first album is a photograph of the Trio's musical moment, filled with homages to sampled composers, nods to Jazz and film music.
Yacha, Japhet and Zajazza, surrounded by many talented artists, share here this colorful musical picture of samples and each person's journey.

Lael Neale's minimalist drone pop draws inspiration from the Transcendentalists, the alienation of modern life, and a rich array of musical influences-ranging from Dionne Warwick and John Lennon to primitive American gospel and Spacemen 3. Her expansive new record, Altogether Stranger, due May 2, was written and recorded in the early morning quiet of Los Angeles. Clocking in at just 32 minutes, the 9-song LP covers an unexpected breadth of musical and lyrical terrain-from garage rock nursery rhymes and creation myths to Motorik dance dirges and solitary Omnichord meditations. A brilliant lyricist, Neale has a unique ability to uncover the extraordinary within the mundane, tackling themes of polarity that recur throughout her work-country vs. city, humanity vs. technology, isolation vs. society. This album is her third collaboration with producer Guy Blakeslee who helps expand the tonal palette while staying true to Neale's commitment to the raw immediacy and hand-made intimacy of home recording. Altogether Stranger - a stunning album filled with dreamlike reverie, Neale's crystalline voice, and echoes of the Velvet Underground - was conceived after four years of oscillating between rural solitude and urban chaos. It finds Neale perched at the piano in a hilltop bungalow, looking down on a rare curve of Sunset Blvd. Here, in this daily ritual of writing, singing, and painting-what David Lynch referred to as "the Art Life"-she creates the space for her most adventurous work to date. Born and raised in Virginia's idyllic countryside, Neale brought the high-lonesome sound of her home state with her when she moved to California to pursue music. After years of writing songs on guitar and playing small venues in Los Angeles, she discovered the Omnichord in 2019, which sparked a new creative direction. This led to her 2021 Sub Pop debut album, Acquainted With Night. That album's 2023 follow-up, Star Eaters Delight, deepened the collaboration with Blakeslee, infusing minimalist soundscapes with a heightened electric energy. The album found a devoted audience, and Neale's subsequent tour included sold-out shows in Los Angeles, New York City, London, and Paris, multiple trips across Europe, and a West Coast run supporting kindred spirit Weyes Blood. This marked yet another return to Los Angeles. Indeed, Los Angeles is not just the backdrop of Altogether Stranger but a lead character. The album's accompanying film - created with Neale's faithful Sony Handycam - builds on her ongoing series of videos, telling the story of Neale as an alien in a suit of mirrors stranded on Earth. Wandering through modern-day LA, she finds both absurdity and beauty in our fragile, untenable way of life. Over the long year it took to write Altogether Stranger, Neale vacillated between childlike optimism and existential melancholy. While she may not have been able to reconcile these opposing states, Altogether Stranger represents an ambitious breakthrough for this singular, self-sufficient artist.

Elori Saxl's soundtrack for the VR film Texada is an exploration of the smallness of human existence within the grand scope of geologic time, mirroring the film's exploration of Texada Island's limestone-rich landscape. Saxl, inspired by her own experiences of island life on Madeline Island, assembled a soundscape that captures both the vastness of Earth's ancient processes and the intimate moments of human existence. Using analog synthesizers, baritone saxophone (performed by Henry Solomon), and processed field recordings of water and rocks, she created ambient layers that evoke cycles, waves, and the transformative forces of nature. The score begins with an exploration of Earth's origins and the emptiness of a rocky planet before life emerged. This foundation grows into pieces like "The Quarry," where the central geological feature, limestone, takes on a dynamic presence. As loops and rumbling textures evoke the rise and movement of stone over millennia, as abstracted creatures spiral upwards, full of life. The album concludes with "The Most Special Place," which serves as a final bridge between the cosmic and the intimate, leaving a lasting impression of how deeply human lives are intertwined with the ancient geology beneath our feet. Saxl's compositional process itself mirrors the themes of transformation and cycles. Working with limited time and resources, she recorded Solomon's saxophone parts early in the project, later repurposing fragments through re-pitching, stretching, and digital effects. As she explains, "I experimented with bringing out the human character of the saxophone by highlighting breath and imperfections while also pushing it into an alien/unrecognizable/bigger world through digital processing and effects." The result is a soundtrack that feels both organic and otherworldly, capturing the grand scope of Earth's timeline while remaining grounded in human emotion and connection.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

"Encore Du Pain" by the legendary British punk band Buzzcocks, a rare live album that captures the raw energy and unapologetic spirit of one of punk rock's most influential acts. Recorded during their explosive European tour, this album brings fans into the heart of a live Buzzcocks show, where sharp guitar riffs, relentless rhythms, and unforgettable hooks define each track. Known for their groundbreaking approach to punk, Buzzcocks combined fast-paced, catchy melodies with lyrics that explored love, alienation, and the angst of youth. Fronted by the iconic Pete Shelley, whose distinctive voice and songwriting were complemented by the powerful guitar work of Steve Diggle, the band crafted a sound that was both gritty and emotionally resonant. This vinyl reissue allows both long-time fans and new listeners to experience "Encore Du Pain" in rich, analog sound, preserving the authentic live atmosphere that made Buzzcocks a defining voice in punk.

"Encore Du Pain" by the legendary British punk band Buzzcocks, a rare live album that captures the raw energy and unapologetic spirit of one of punk rock's most influential acts. Recorded during their explosive European tour, this album brings fans into the heart of a live Buzzcocks show, where sharp guitar riffs, relentless rhythms, and unforgettable hooks define each track. Known for their groundbreaking approach to punk, Buzzcocks combined fast-paced, catchy melodies with lyrics that explored love, alienation, and the angst of youth. Fronted by the iconic Pete Shelley, whose distinctive voice and songwriting were complemented by the powerful guitar work of Steve Diggle, the band crafted a sound that was both gritty and emotionally resonant. This vinyl reissue allows both long-time fans and new listeners to experience "Encore Du Pain" in rich, analog sound, preserving the authentic live atmosphere that made Buzzcocks a defining voice in punk.