Buscar:not fragile

Nachdem er 2015 die Marke von einer Milliarde Streams schneller erreicht hat als jemals ein Küns
tler vor ihm, schickt 2016
sich sogar an, für Kyrre Gørvell Dahl aka KYGO noch größer zu werden: Hier sind die Details seines Debütalbums 'Cloud
Nine'.
Das Album ist seit 18 Monaten in Arbeit und wurde den Fans erstmals im Februar angeteased, jetzt gibt d
ie norwegische
Dance
-Sensation ein bestätigtes Release-Datum für 'Cloud Nine' bekannt, enthüllt das exklusive Artwork von niemand
Geringerem als Mr. Brainwash und veröffentlicht seine brandneuen Tracks 'Fragile' featuring Labrinth 'Raging' feat. Kodaline
u
nd all das kann ab sofort vorbestellt werden.
'Cloud Nine', dessen komplettes Tracklisting demnächst bekanntgegeben wird, erscheint am 13. Mai 2016 auf Sony Music
International/Ultra Music/B1 Recordings.
Nach über acht Millionen verkauften Tonträgern sei
t dem Originalrelease von 'Firestone' in 2014, hat Kygo ein Who-
is-Who
der Kollaborateure zusammengebracht, die ihn auf einem der am sehnlichsten erwarteten Alben 2016 unterstützen werden








G b4 | I'm in Love (feat. James Vincent McMorrow)

For his new full-length on Second End Records, Lyon-based artist Jonnnah turns deeply inward. Conceived as a form of therapy, as much as a reflection and a testimony, the record retraces a process of introspection and confrontation with one’s own history, looking back at origins, DNA, and the invisible ties that connect us to our ancestors, while opening paths toward new connections.

The double-sided structure of the album makes this journey tangible. The first side lingers in uncertainty : opaque atmospheres, fragmented rhythms, and restless textures mirror the doubts, questions, and fragile states of self-analysis. The second side, in contrast, embraces clarity and resolution, dense yet luminous soundscapes where reconciliation and acceptance take shape, culminating in The Blue Comet, a piece charged with finality and revelation.

Opening with the multipart suite N-zero, symbolizing the beginning of therapy, and closing with O-one, evoking the soul’s original purity, the record traces a complete emotional and spiritual cycle. Between them, the third edition of Insomnia Never Ends once again portrays the struggle between sleep and the irresistible pull of musical distraction, a fragile tension that runs through the album as a whole.

The record condenses Jonnnah’s language into something rawer and more direct. Layers of dub and dub sonic resonate against ethereal ambient passages, while techno impulses maintain tension and forward motion. Each piece feels at once intimate and expansive, designed as much for solitary listening as for collective experience.

A new chapter in Jonnnah’s trajectory, the album is a document of transformation : from shadow to light, from questioning to acceptance.

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

Phonica welcomes Mattias El Mansouri, a Swedish-born DJ and producer of Moroccan/Chilean descent who has been behind some of our favourite releases over the past few years on labels such as Aniara and Nous'klaer.

On the 'Sense Data' 12", El Mansouri expands on his atmospheric House and Techno explorations with three deep yet dancefloor primed pieces that hold personal resonance for him.

El Mansouri, who holds a degree in Theoretical Philosophy, explains:

"'Sense Data' are the immediate elements of perception; what is directly given to the senses before any judgment or interpretation. In vision, these appear as colored, shaped patches; in other senses, as sounds, tastes, smells, or tactile qualities. For example, seeing a brown table with a white coaster involves sense data of a brown patch and a white roundish patch, from which one infers the presence of a table and coaster."

On the record's flip, we have the beautiful "Cielo Vacío' and 'Ouzo Hallon' dub version of 'Sense Data'. El Mansouri continues:

"Cielo Vacío translates to “empty sky” in Spanish. The track serves as a eulogy for my brother, who passed away in December 2023. I chose this title because it resonates with the sonic and emotional atmosphere of the piece. Its ambiguity is intentional, carrying both the weight of grief that lingers after losing someone you love, and a strange, fragile peace you extend toward the departed. It reflects the hope that, wherever they are, whether or not one believes in an afterlife, they have found rest.

Ouzo Hallon translates to Ouzo (the Greek liquor)+Hallon (Raspberry). It’s a long drink that my (Greek) ex came up with last summer, mixing ouzo, raspberry syrup/raspberry juice and ice. It became a thing in our little friend group, consisting of mostly Greeks, and every time we all hang out we would all just drink ouzo hallon until we couldn’t stand straight. I always wanted to name a track Ouzo Hallon, just for the fun of it, and what better way to get the chance than now!"

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

Between flesh and silicon. “Under My Skin” (2026) is the first album by IADI, released by Neo Life. A record like few
others, highly conceptual, cover art included. Its essence lies in the folds of the increasingly ambiguous relationship
between man and machine, where the former designs the latter and, perhaps without fully realizing it, is gradually
destined to adapt and be reprogrammed by it. Each track of “Under My Skin” is, in fact, a sort of interface, connector, or
any other imaginative point of contact between two creative phases, amid emotional impulses and binary calculations.
The sonic architecture oscillates between analog warmth and algorithmic coldness, constructing landscapes in which
pulsating synthesizers and mechanical rhythms seem to question each other. There's no linear narrative, but rather a
progressive immersion in a zone of near-friction, where the comfort of technology coexists with more than a faint
musical uneasiness, like a background noise that never ceases to remind you who's truly in charge. In “Under My Skin”,
the machine is neither an enemy nor a simple instrument: it's a real presence, intimate, even tactile, amplifying desires,
fears, and dreams of dawns beyond the digital realm. Intelligent dance music. Less noise, more sensations. Electronic,
but profoundly human.
The final result, then, is a music project that speaks to the present, yet sounds like an X-ray of the future, capturing that
fragile moment when humanity and technology stop observing each other from afar and begin to merge, track after
track. It's no coincidence that IADI's album opens with “Impulse”, an immediate expression of an electrical impulse, for
both humans and machines, which is also the language of the nervous system, as fast as it is vital—pure energy and
rhythm, a track as intense as it is irregular. And after this introduction, it's the turn of the equally erratic “Axon”, whose
title describes the neuron that transmits the signal over distance, telling the listener to sit back and relax for a new
journey through the notes toward the more melodic “Cortex”. The cerebral cortex, the ultimate seat of thought and
memory, becomes the source from which the musical flow of the first part of the work is drawn.
Then, suddenly, an automatic, or instinctive, response to the constant succession of impulses: “Reflex”, or zerotemperature techno, with a fragmented pace, featuring vocal samples, breaks, and restarts. In the producer's
imagination, the subsequent, and conversely placid, “Neuron” represents the emotional core of the second part of the
work, providing a kind of respite from the seething vibrations. While the neuron is the basic unit of the nervous system,
the synapse is the functional connection point between one neuron and another effector cell, essential for the
transmission of nerve impulses and communication in the nervous system, enabling functions such as learning and
movement. Likewise, a track like “Synapse” once again illuminates the path traced by IADI. The more experimental and
streamlined “Static” instead suggests true ordered chaos. “Dreamstate” is the conclusion suspended in the void, relating
to that dreamlike state between waking and sleeping, where consciousness fades toward infinity and visions begin. Pure
fading into the subconscious. Eternal return to where it all began. Dancing is a form of consciousness. Every beat is a
question. IADI, however, holds all the answers you need.

The second vinyl release on Platz fur Tanz continues the narrative of techno's past and future. Experienced artists reinterpret the shadowy vibe of dancefloors around the world, giving it new form and depth.
The record opens with a track by Swedish techno futurist Lakej, featuring his signature sound of machinery on a working factory floor. The music immediately transports you into the industrial atmosphere of a rave.
This time, the Italian-born, Berlin-based artist VSK takes us on a journey through the emotional waves of deep techno. A slightly jazzy groove makes this track perfect for peak time dancefloors.
Latvian producer Ksenia Kamikaza stays true to her style, transporting us into a world of visualized melodies and rhythms. The bassline sets the groove, while the unhurried rhythm allows you to fully surrender to the dance.
Liza Aikin brings an uncompromising Berlin vibrations to the release, reminding us how a true rave should sound. Her style is not heavy but persistent. Liza never stops experimenting, and this track will be a highlight of any DJ set.
Another Latvian electronic talent closes the release. Igors Vorobjovs blends the best of electro and techno in his track. Nervous rhythms and loud sounds stir the emotions, while the raw, untamed resonance will leave no true connoisseur of feral techno indifferent.

A cocktail of rebellious queer vocal fragments, deceptive percussive granules and swaying hammered vibrations, upsammy and Valentina Magaletti's first collaboration trembles with suspense. The seeds of 'Seismo' were sown following a commission from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum to soundtrack an exhibition of work from the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam and the duo didn't want to approach their collaboration flippantly. So, wandering the museum's maze of rooms, they recorded various improvised percussive sounds with their arsenal of microphones, using the space to inform various rhythms and textures that were sculpted later into electroacoustic vignettes. This was just the starting point, though; as Magaletti and upsammy began performing together, the project evolved and 'Seismo' began to take shape. The duo had struck on a salient aesthetic concept, using mostly digital and acoustic mallet instruments to blur the boundary between their roles and create friction between the synthetic and the authentic. And the finished record is a phantasmagoric push-and-pull between its various conflicting elements: harmony and dissonance, randomness and predictability, openness and constraint. 'Seismo' isn't the first time that upsammy has studied her environment in search of revelation. On her acclaimed second album, 2024's 'Germ in a Population of Buildings', the Amsterdam-based DJ, producer and multidisciplinary artist erected her complex, unorthodox rhythms and eerie melodies around a modernist frame of field recordings collected in various cityscapes, countering heavyweight basslines with subtle, microscopic sounds. London-based Italian vanguard Magaletti, meanwhile, has applied her unique logic to innumerable projects at this point, working with everyone from batida icon Nídia and hardcore-dub outfit Moin to French writer Fanny Chiarello and British bass scientist Shackleton. For years she's approached the drums with criticism, attempting to challenge any preconceptions, something that's most visible on 2020's 'A Queer Anthology of Drums'. And both artists' thoughtful perspectives are welded together seamlessly on 'Seismo', a dizzying suite of eight eccentric statements that's fragile but never insecure, gauzy but not indistinct. An unnerving sense of space characterizes 'It Comes to an End' as Magaletti's in situ improvisations herald for upsammy's microscopic glitches and chiming pitch-bent melodies. It's almost unbalancing to witness the track's impossible dimensionality, the interplay between reverberant marimba hits and bone-dry synths, or percussion that's been recorded and processed in consciously different settings. A new architecture emerges in the sound itself that the two artists scan and explore meticulously, testing its boundaries with undulating hybridized rhythms on the invigorating 'Superimposed' and offsetting the powdery drums with liquified smacks and alien voices. The duo's vibrations are knotted with piano flourishes on 'Hyperlocalize', balanced with artificial clanks and clangs that disappear into the track's sonorous atmosphere, replaced by whispers and half-hallucinated insectoid chirps. 'Seismo' is an album that feeds off the energy generated by its juxtapositions: the tension and anticipation that's melted by rapid, hyperactive movement and the finely drawn rhythms disrupted by a layer of indistinct, barely perceptible microsounds. It's a collaboration that sounds like two minds challenging each other but not wrestling, each peering from their own distinct vantage point and imagining a third landscape shaped by optimistic, queer vibrations.

Nicaraguan-American artist Dagmar Zuniga makes music that feels both intimate and expansive: songs drift like disrupted signals, carried by harmony, tape hiss, and a strong sense of touch. Her debut solo album in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music — written and recorded in New York, Norway, and Athens, Georgia over a period of five years on her longtime companion, the Tascam 424 — was uploaded to Bandcamp and YouTube in January 2025, quickly garnering over two hundred thousand views and the attention of artists such as Mount Eerie, who invited her to tour with them that summer. This year, what was once a jewel of tapped-in algorithms and message boards will meet the world at large, with in filth arriving digitally on March 4, and physically on April 10, via AD 93.

in filth is an atmospheric, devotional collage where one voice multiplies into a chorus of selves, sometimes delicate, sometimes severe; an effect created by Zuniga’s masterful layering of texture and complex harmonies. Synths glitter out like spears of sunlight from beneath clouds of moody, time-distorted guitars, and songs spin about themselves like tightly-wound music boxes, making use of a kind of hypnotic repetition, before melting apart into their components or slipping into the following track.

Zuniga began recording to tape as a teenager, drawn to the physicality of the medium — how a tape recording is fragile, mutable, and alive. Though her ethereal sound may draw easy comparisons to other female pioneers of psychedelic folk, she is influenced just as much by the darker sounds of Syd Barrett and The Fall. Like Barrett, Zuniga is a painter, and she is interested not only in recording music but in creating a full, self-contained artistic universe: she creates her own artwork, merchandise, music videos, and bootleg tapes of new and unfinished music that she exclusively sells at live shows (“If something is not material, it does not exist,” she insists). Her world has not gone unvisited, garnering her a monthly show on NTS Radio ‘World of Pain’, as well as a forthcoming appearance at Rewire Festival in April 2026.

Though Zuniga’s work explores themes of solitude and suffering, the suffering in her songs is not borrowed or displayed; it is held, then opened outward through empathy — an exacting practice of attention that insists on shared ground. Solitude, in her work, is not withdrawal but a starting point for connection. Likewise, over time, her recording process has become increasingly communal, with in filth featuring musicians Hayes Hoey, Austyn Wohlers (Tomato Flower), and Zach Phillips (Fievel Is Glauque). Newer recordings widen the circle even more. For Zuniga, collaboration is a way to “find a place between worlds,” echoing Badiou’s idea of love as a vision refracted through the prism of difference. Meaning emerges there — in the space between voices, between artist and listener. “I hope my music helps people work through difficult experiences,” she says. “The same way it helps me.”

About Alec Pace’s “Respiro 22:16”
Breath as rhythm. Breath as memory. Respiro 22:16, the debut album by Alec Pace, is a world suspended between intimacy and impact — where personal confessions are carried by low-end frequencies and fragile melodies are shaped into physical space.
Written, produced and mixed between London and Turin, this record reveals Alec Pace not only as a producer but as a storyteller through sound. Layer by layer, his voice, guitars, piano, synthesizers, drum machines, samplers, and field recordings converge to form a sonic diary — one that whispers, cracks, shimmers and erupts.
The album moves fluidly between dream pop, modern UK bass, breaks, jungle, and club music, yet its essence lies in emotion: love, memory, anticipation, release. Each track is a breath, an exhale, a fragment of something lived.
“The30th” opens with nostalgic warmth, darkness and breaks; “For You (Hello)” captures the tender rush of a love song over a drum & bass heartbeat; “Venus Winds” floats in a balance of techno pulse and harmonic light. “Angular Invariance” reshapes the floor beneath your feet, while “Respiro” pauses to listen inward — piano and air, fragile and close. “Anticipation” closes it all with a forward surge: emotional, propulsive, unresolved.
Respiro 22:16 is not just a collection of tracks, but a portrait of an artist learning to breathe out loud.

Alec Pace said:
“This album is about putting myself out there — letting every sound, chord and rhythm breathe,” says Pace. “Respiro is both a personal archive and a release.”

“Respiro 22:16” is available across all platforms on Friday 6th March 2026.

2026 Repress

On Left At Sunset, Tornado Wallace taps into those fragile, glowing moments after a long night in the club, when the lights come up just enough, the bass softens, and the first hint of morning slips through the windows. Time feels suspended.
The lead track Asahi Ga Yondeiru (“the morning sun is calling”) captures that feeling perfectly. Built around Courtney Bailey’s gentle vocal, it drifts somewhere between late-night house and early morning reflection. It is not about the peak. It is about what comes after it. That quiet euphoria when you realize the night gave you something you will carry back into the real world. The rest of the EP stays in that same emotional zone: warm, slightly melancholic, but full of light. These are tracks for the very last dance, when the floor is half-empty, hearts are wide open, and every sound feels a little more meaningful. Not an ending, really. Just the beginning of whatever comes next.

On Dreams ’24 / ’25, Scottish composer Bill Wells turns his nocturnal imagination into a sequence of delicate musical miniatures. The album brings together 24 short pieces, most of them under two minutes, unfolding in just under half an hour like a quietly drifting dream diary.

The album is split into two parts. On the Dreams 2024 side, Norman Blake lends his voice to Wells’ dream-born melodies. Blake, best known as a founding member of Teenage Fanclub, recorded the songs with Wells in a single afternoon at his home, capturing their fragile immediacy in direct and unadorned performances.

For Dreams 2025, Aby Vulliamy — one of Yorkshire’s best kept musical secrets — takes over vocal duties. In mid 2025, Wells sent her a batch of demos; Vulliamy recorded them at home and sent them back to him. The result is a second chapter that feels more introspective, intimate and gently surreal.

The songs themselves are born directly from dreams. Wells wakes from the dream, records it on his mobile and later shapes it into a brief, lyrical composition. One piece, Mackenzie’s Return, was inspired by a dream in which Elvis Costello marched through the streets of a suburban town complaining that he had run out of song ideas, a detail that perfectly captures the album’s blend of humour, strangeness and quiet melancholy.

Dreams ’24 / ’25 is not a collection of fully formed pop songs, but rather a series of fleeting emotional snapshots: soft voices, simple motifs, and melodies that appear and vanish before they can fully settle. It is an album that rewards close listening, inviting the listener into a private, half-lit space somewhere between memory and imagination.

The album is accompanied by a striking cover artwork by Annabel Wright.

An incising snare marks the return of Luxus Varta to Shipwrec. Since his last appearance, Aquamarine Puzzle in 2017, the Frenchman has been honing his craft with releases on a spread of stellar imprints. Noise Figure is the culmination of that refining process, his sound and style being forged and framed within the parameters of electro. And these parameters are immediately tested. From the warbling bass and tight percussion of The Resetter, crystalline chords cascade before a shimmering string of wintery warmth. Terse beats introduce Building Peaks, wraith-like rinses offering space for playful forms to take hold. Fudgey basslines are unsettled by sci-fi synths, a touch of the otherworldly balancing this unique cut. The warm current of Lizardous penetrates the frostier funk of the EP, delicate and fragile notes thawing the cold rhythms and glacial undertones. Silver Girl contrasts autumnal shades with brittle harmonies, angles and lines curved by sheer musical craftsmanship. Shifting into electronica, the close is a complex composition that demonstrates Luxus Varta's breadth of ability. Gentle melodic ebbs are countered by echoes of the factory floor, the human touch coming to the surface with understated radiance.

Take Me, I’m Yours is the first collaboration album between Alan Abrahams and Jan Jelinek. Released through the latter’s faitiche, it builds upon multi-layered vocal sketches by the former. The Paris-based artist, primarily known for his work as Portable and Bodycode, supplied Jelinek with multi-layered song sketches that the German artist subjected to a rigorous process of manipulation, excavating the ambiguities of the original material and transforming its rhythms into subtle pulses. Take Me, I’m Yours is neither a typical Abrahams record nor a classic Jelinek album—it is something third, mediating between the physicality of the voice and the abstraction of electronic sound design.

The two had crossed paths before really getting to know each other after Abrahams invited Jelinek to play at one of his Süd Electronic parties. The idea of a collaboration emerged slowly. “It started as an experiment, and over the past few years grew from a few tracks into this album,” says Abrahams. He describes recording the basic material as a “tantalizing” process, not knowing how Jelinek would transform his material, some of which was based on wordless chanting, while other tracks were working with lyrical content. However, their mutual trust allowed Jelinek to remove the harmonies, radically reduce the rhythms, and concentrate on Abrahams’ voice.

Jelinek heard something “fragile” in this voice, “moments of doubt and dark premonitions.” He points to Forever as an example. “Alan’s original song reminded me of classic vocal house, but his voice seemed to almost break,” he says. “This contradiction made the piece even bigger, because we hear a singer in the moment of an awakening.” He further accentuated such tensions through arrhythmic synth modulations and time-stretching algorithms, while also adding concrete sounds from a variety of sources. With its dedication to both transforming and amplifying the emotional qualities hidden within Abrahams’ pieces, Take Me, I’m Yours functions as a dialogue between those two singular artists.

Vel initiates the «Cuddle Protocol», her first ambient album, set for release on October 17, 2025 on PURR.


Vel, recognized for her striking presence in the contemporary techno scene, steps into new territory with the release of her first ambient album, Cuddle Protocol (P:\URR(3)_Cuddle_Protocol), the third outing on her own label PURR. Out October 17, 2025, the 9-track record is a personal and intimate statement, delivered on vinyl and digital formats.


With Cuddle Protocol, Vel explores the paradox of intimacy in a coded world. “I like the idea of a protocol for softness,” she explains, “of codifying something that should be intimate and spontaneous.” This tension runs through the album: fragile voices and soft layers unfold against serious, carefully structured arrangements, balancing tenderness with rigor.


Ambient music has always been Vel’s “first love.” Before producing techno, she composed ambient exclusively, and this album marks a return to the form in its most sincere expression. “I know this music will follow me all my life. It’s not a phase. It’s how I express myself most truthfully.”
Cuddle Protocol is about slowing down, embracing sincerity, and reaching for deeper connection. “When I listen to ambient, I access another world. It’s charged with emotion, it makes me drift and forget everything. That’s the feeling I wanted to share.”
Mastering: Sixbitdeep / Artwork: Adone Giuntini

“The high priest of country cool” - Rolling Stone

“I like him very much. He’s very special. He’s singing with a voice I never heard before” - Townes Van Zandt

“A conscious, soulful brother” - Horace Andy

“He’s a brother to me - one of the best singer/songwriters I’ve ever met” - Adrian Sherwood

“Unearthed mine of gems from inner Wales - a songbook of ideas - that's Jeb!” - Gilles Peterson

Jeb Loy Nichols is a bonafide Country (Got) Soul legend. The Music Maker presents 21 incredibly deep, grooving and soulful songs from the cream of Jeb's catalogue; from its earliest days to his latest unreleased gems via countless rare and unbelievably good lost-classics. This 2LP set is presented in a gatefold sleeve complete with freshly commissioned artwork courtesy of Jeb himself.

In collecting these uncut, under-heard gems, we hope to do justice to Jeb's jaw-dropping artistic brilliance. A man who, in working with Adrian Sherwood, Dennis Bovell, Dan Penn, Larry Jon Wilson and countless other legendary characters, has crafted some of the most deeply affecting folk, country, soul, funk, blues, dub, reggae, gospel, rap and electronic music, ever heard.

The first music Jeb really felt a connection with was southern soul: "I used to listen to the radio at night and fell in love with Bobby Womack and Al Green, The Staple Singers and Joe Simon – that whole Nashville/Memphis/Muscle Shoals thing.” But Jeb was so much more than a soul boy, Indeed, he "went to bluegrass festivals with my dad and come home and listened to jazz records with my mother.” And, when he was fifteen, he heard his first punk record: "God Save The Queen" by The Sex Pistols. “That and The Ramones completely changed me.” In 1979 he got a scholarship to go to art school in New York: “A great time. Punk was over but hip-hop was starting and I got into that in an obsessive way.”

His first recording, in 1980, was an unreleased rap song called "I’m A Country Boy". If that isn't an insight enough into Jeb's kaleidoscopic path through music, in 1981 he visited friends in London and found himself living in a squat with Adrian Sherwood, Ari Up (from the Slits), and Neneh Cherry. “Adrian put me to work immediately, moving boxes of records all across London. It was Adrian that was and is my biggest influence – in his complete disregard for genre purity.” So, presumably you're getting the picture? A veritable musical magpie with a voracious appetite and unimpeachable taste.

"Mine has always been a meandering career. I've done what I've done, and made the music I've made, due to chance meetings. I'm not particularly ambitious; it's more important to me that I work with friends and like-minded people. I've been a big fan of Be With for years. Everything they release is essential. When they asked about rereleasing "Countrymusicdisco45" I was both pleased and flattered. We began talking about how we'd do it; two years and twenty-one tracks later, here we are. I've always thought of the music I make as Country Music. Music conceived in the country, written in the country, recorded in the country. I left London and moved back to the country so I could live among the trees, the grasses, the animals, those things that don't go to war and get greedy. This compilation is the story of that life. Hand made, lo-fi, ramshackle, stripped down, real deal music. Heartworn and funky. Music made in the kitchen, not in the studio. As the great Skip Mcdonald said, Perfect ain't perfect. It's great to see all these tracks gathered together. It feels like a family reunion. Some older members of the tribe, some newer arrivals."

Opener "countrymusicdisco45" is a song Jeb wrote about how his crew lives, tucked up blissfully in the hills: "House parties full of country folk dancing to disco, reggae, soul, country, hip-hop. All night. I recorded it at home under the influence of Stevie Wonder." It's one of the funkiest records you'll ever hear. "Sometimes Shooting Stars" was recorded in Nashville and mixed by the legendary Dennis Bovell. It's deep, dubby, majestic. A thing of fragile, melodic beauty. The party ramps back up again with the undeniable groove of "Short Cut Home" before the profoundly moving "Disappointment" arrives. One of many songs he's recorded with good buddy Benedic Lamdin (aka Nostalgia 77): "We were going for a Leon Thomas meets Richard Brautigan meets Alice Coltrane kind of thing". We think they nailed it. "Days Are Mighty", like a lot of the tracks on this collection, "started life as a demo, an attempt to get something down while it was fresh. No frills, nothing fancy, just feel." And what feels!

The irrepressibly funky "Don't Dance With Me Tonight" is a deeply moving, slow-mo organ-drenched head-nod-funky country-ballad. Next up, the breezy "You Got It Wrong" was recorded in Wales with some of Jeb's good friends and neighbours, The Westwood All Stars, featuring Clovis Phillips and Will Barnes. Skanking fiddle-flecked gem "Ring The Bells" was the first thing Jeb recorded when he moved to Wales. A combination of all his loves; country, reggae, soul. It's followed by "Let's Make It Up", a truly sumptuous string-drenched emotional groover. "When Did You Stop Loving Me" is another Nashville track, written and recorded during a time Jeb was spending a lot of time with the Muscle Shoals crew, Donnie Fritts, Spooner Oldham, George Soule and Dan Penn: "It shows, I'm sure, their influence." Oh, you bet it does!

The swaggering country-funk of "Just Beginning" should grace many groove-focused DJs' sets whilst "Wintering Of The Year", again made with Clovis, is pastoral, campfire soul. The glacial, gorgeous "Let It Rain" is from an unreleased record Jeb made with the great British jazz bass player Andy Hamill and "We Tell Each Other Who We Are" is freaky country-soul made by a man with a love for strutting, wonky hip-hop stylings. Rounding out the side, "Trip To You" is pure, uncut amphetamine-propelled drum-machine soul.

The spare, beautiful "Dirt" is from an EP Jeb made with Julian Moore in his house in South London: "All first takes, straight to tape." Swoon! "Heaven Right Here" was a very minor league hit in America: "It was produced by the brilliant and much missed Wayne Nunes. It was started in the countryside of Missouri, finished in the countryside of Wales, and recorded in the countryside of Sussex." Double swoon! "If Later Ever Comes" is electronica meets J.J. Cale business whilst "Remember The Season" is truly wonderful and breezy guitar soul. "A Little Love" was made with Wayne Nunes as well, after a night of listening to Studio One and Northern Soul. Bouncy dub closer "Weary Traveller" was written by Bill Monroe, the hero of Jeb's youth: "Monroe's music was heavily influenced by black southern churches; I've tried to keep some of that feral feel." This was the final recording by Jeb's 1990s Country-Dub band, Fellow Travellers.

The name of this compilation comes from a time when Jeb lived in Peckham, south London and he used to DJ and sometimes perform at a local bar: "The owner of the bar, a Jamaican named Count Percy, once asked me what I called my music. I told him I wasn't sure, I guess just pop music. He thought about it for a minute and then said, 'no, more like mom and pop music'. Rather than call me a country singer or a folk singer he always referred to me as The Music Maker."

With the long overdue deluxe overview of his beloved music, we hope to finally shine a light on the unheralded genius of Jeb Loy Nichols. RIYL Larry Jon Wilson, Townes Van Zandt, Bobby Charles, country got soul artists, dub, deep soul, disco, dancing, heartbreak. This deluxe collection, spellbinding from beginning to end, should hopefully go some way to ensuring Jeb reaches an ever bigger, ever more appreciative crowd of followers. Mastering for this special double vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry. The artwork has been lovingly put together by The Music Maker, himself, Jeb Loy Nichols. "Be With is the perfect home for this mongrel music. I am forever in their debt." The pleasure is all ours, Jeb.

Otto Taimela returns with his second album for London ambient free divers SWIMS, following 2024's celebrated "Inner Beauty".

"Uncommon & Fragile" departs from Otto's meadowed, ivory-centric introspections, reaching further into binaural sound design, trance pointillism, and groundswells of angular percussion. This is less a club record, more something to soothe post-rave tinnitus on the bus home.

For fans of Lorenzo Senni, Lusine ICL, Huerco S., Shinichi Atobe...

Aftersome refers to that suspended moment of wonder, when you realize you’ve been led here by a chain of unexpected events and small decisions — so improbable they almost feel preordained. Between chance and destiny, it is a fragile state where emotion and reflection intertwine.
This album by You Man embodies precisely that idea: each track is a step along this path, a resonance born of accidents and coincidences, ultimately shaping a coherent trajectory despite its improbability.
The work moves between techno, house and post-wave, infused with science-fiction and fantastical influences, constantly blurring the line between reality and imagination.
The experience is enriched by remarkable collaborations: Marc Almond (Soft Cell), Local Suicide, Jérôme Voisin, each bringing their own brilliance to this odyssey.

Repress!

Biosphere is the main recording name of Geir Jenssen (born 30 May 1962), a Norwegian musician who has released a notable catalogue of ambient electronic music. He is well known for his works on ambient techno and arctic themed pieces, his use of music loops, and peculiar samples from sci-fi sources. His 1997 album Substrata was voted by the users of the Hyperreal website in 2001 as the best all-time classic ambient album.



Cirque - originally released in 2000 - was Biosphere's first album for the UK label Touch. This new re-issue comes with a 6-track bonus album and new artwork.



Mojo (UK): Fourth full album from ambient pioneer. Coming to prominence with 1992's Microgravity - which along with the first couple of Aphex/Polygon Window CDs, defined the genre ambient - Geir Jenssen as Biosphere has made three of the '90s' best albums, culminating with last year's near beatless Substrata. The idea - as it always was thanks to Eno's On Land - is music as environment (reflecting, creating): working from his base in Tromso, Arctic Norway, Jenssen offers a polar, Apollonian exploration of the human psyche. Cirque is a perfectly constructed 47-minute sequence: cold clarity up against real depth of field, synth cycles dissolving into sudden moments of sonic revelation that sound like a waking dream - try the first 20 seconds of Black Lamb and Grey Falcon. (And if you think that's pretentious - your loss). Inspired by the story of a young American, Chris McCandless, who walked alone into the Alaskan wilderness and perished, Cirque balances the tightrope between warmth and unease, resolving into a moon melody that leaves you a peace. What a good record! Jon Savage.

Among the true Keiji Haino devotees, Nijiumu’s Era of Sad Wings (released on P.S.F. in 1993) has always held a special place in the pantheon. Operating for only a few years in the early 90s and apparently only performing a handful of shows, Nijiumu operated at the opposite end of the dynamic spectrum to Haino’s famed power trio Fushitsusha, dwelling in a hushed, meditative realm of mysterious droning sonorities and free-floating melodies that occasionally erupts into violence. Black Truffle is pleased to announce a new double-LP edition of a lesser-known 1994 Nijiumu recording, When I sing, I slip into the microphone. Into that void, I bring comrade “prayers”, then, turning to face the outside, together we explode. Here, Nijiumu is the trio of Haino, Tetuzi Akiyama and the obscure Takashi Matsuoka, the three performing on a wide variety of string, wind and percussion instruments, as well as electric guitar and bass, and Haino’s unmistakeable voice.

Like on the early solo Haino album that shares the group’s name (released on P.S.F. in 1993), the instrumentation swims in reverb (the use of which Akiyama recalls as ‘a kind of point of the band’), often obscuring the instrumental sources. On the short opening piece, a distant reed instrument arcs long buzzing melodies over a bed of cymbals and gongs, like a psychedelic take on Tibetan music. The epic second part, occupying almost 50 minutes, begins as a splayed, near-formless cloud of electric guitar and bass, shadowed by bowed and plucked strings, the three elements working through twisting atonal shapes. At various points in the recording, we hear what seems to be the sounds of musicians moving between instruments, their shuffling and bumps fitting seamlessly into this radically open music. Eventually, what sounds like electric guitar moves closer to the foreground, fixing on a repeated melodic cell around which hover mysterious clouds of long tones and a sporadic shaker. At the half-hour mark, the music begins to build to a violently emotive climax, Haino’s impassioned vocal cries punctuating a lumbering, bass-heavy murk, contrasted at points by what sounds like a tin whistle. Suddenly, the volume drops to a near-whisper, opening the way for the stunning final moments, which touch on the slow-motion balladry of Haino’s classic Affection, here given an eccentric twist by an occasional woodblock hit. The third piece opens with a hazy trio of rumbling bass, bowed strings and abstracted slide guitar, the latter calling to mind some of Akiyama’s later solo work. Eventually joined by Haino’s voice, its fragile, haunted tone might remind the listener of the man in black’s documented love of the madrigals of the murderous Count Gesualdo, before the recording abruptly breaks off mid-note. In this new edition, the Nijiumu trio recording is supplemented by a piece recorded solo by Haino in 1973, a bracing electronic blowout stretching almost half an hour. Using a homemade electronics setup to unleash a barrage of crunching distortion and shuddering harmonic fuzz, it takes its place in the canon of extreme live electronics next to Robert Ashley’s Wolfman and Walter Marchetti’s Osmanthus fragrans, looking forward to extreme noise years before Merzbow. Taken as a whole, these four sides of music are a stunning document of some of the lesser-known waystations of Haino’s singular creative path.

This transcontinental techno VA gathers five forward-thinking artists from across the globe.

Icelandic techno forward Exos opens the release with "Tunis" - a no-compromise, fast-paced track that pulses with distant echoes of African tunes. This piece that moves you forward, propels through time and textures.

Hailing from Paraguay, Victoria Mussi brings "Imaginary Rush", a track that shifts the grid: behind the steady four-to-the-floor pulse hides a maze of unexpected sound accents. This is techno that demands both dancing and deep listening.

Latvian producer Ksenia Kamikaza follows with "34 hours of C" - a cinematic narrative shaped by futuristic sound design. Taking you to the sci-fi movie scene with echoing synths - it's a sonic adventure drifting across an obscure dancefloor.

Chilean artist Andrea Riffo offers "Fissure State", a fragile yet deeply intentional track that blends minimal structure with immersive depth. Thoughtful and hypnotic, it carries a subtle intensity that fits perfectly into both opening and prime time sets.

Catalan non-binary artist Basso Mata closes the record with "Open Close" - a departure from strict techno into mid-90s-influenced electro. Combining distorted guitar-like basslines with synthetic groove, it's both unexpected and irresistibly danceable.

Together, these five pieces form a cohesive yet diverse vision of modern techno - experimental, emotional, and deeply rooted in each artist's local context. This record is built for DJs who play with narrative, contrast, and surprise. A secret weapon for those who mix stories, not just beats.

Ten years, a compilation. It"s not a conclusion, nor a greatest hits. More like a pause, a moment to reflect - a look back to better move forward. Since 2015, Les Disques Bongo Joe have been navigating instinctively, yet with a compass all their own: a love for free-spirited sound, a curiosity for the undefined, and a clear idea of what a label can be - a space for listening, care, and invention. The compilation offers a journey - subjective, fluid, and unapologetic - through ten years of sonic activism. A selection of tracks drawn from the label"s corners and crevices: from early releases to recent ones, from essentials to rarities, from cult reissues to contemporary works that carry the label"s energy forward. The record flows between raw intensity and sonic finesse, between remastered archives and flashes of electronics, between fragile voices and hammered percussion.

First time vinyl reissue, expanded and deluxe double gatefold 140g double vinyl, remastered audio with restored artwork and fresh liners written by Paul Hillery (Folk Funk & Trippy Troubadours)
Alan James Eastwood's glorious Seeds is a certified folk-funk lost-classic.

But who was Alan James Eastwood? He had never hit the big time and commercial success eluded him. By the mid-1970s, his musical career was pretty much over and he was almost unknown except among deep heads, amongst whom he would gain cult status.

Original copies of the 1971 vinyl release of Seeds exchange hands for high sums, if you can find one. This expanded 2LP contains an extra record, collecting 9 rare non-album singles and is presented in a gatefold sleeve complete with freshly commissioned liner notes courtesy of Paul Hillery (Folk Funk & Trippy Troubadours).

With the long overdue deluxe reissue of this prized artefact, we hope to finally shine a light on the unheralded genius of Alan James Eastwood. RIYL Nick Drake, Rodriguez, Richie Havens.

Alan James ‘Bugsy’ Eastwood was a renowned musician and singer who came to prominence in the late 1960s with The Exception, an unsung but excellent band from Birmingham. The Exception released many singles, the first featuring friend Robert Plant on tambourine, before an album, The Exceptional Exception. However, by this time, Bugsy was feeling constrained and restless; he left the band within weeks of the release.

Having vanished from the scene, he was honing a deeper, introspective edge to his songwriting. His demos found their way to the sound engineer and producer Mike Cooper at Pan Music Studios in Denmark Street. Loving what he heard, Eastwood soon entered a recording session with Cooper. The session was just Alan, his guitar and harmonica and - by all accounts - it was remarkable. With the songs, the voice and such an exceptional talent, it was hard to go wrong. Says Mike: "We had John Hawkins do the big string arrangements and Richard Hewson arranged the string quartet. We overdubbed the orchestrations on Alan's original session recordings, adding Chris Karan on tabla and various percussion. We considered re-recording the vocals but found that the magic on that original session was so exceptional overdubbing would not be as good as the atmospheric 'live' performance."

Mike and Alan viewed each track as a different entity, giving the album a diverse sonic palette. Assessing each song individually, they decided which would be suitable for each arranger. Top-flight session musicians were added to the roster to complete the sound, with Byron Lye Fook (father of musician Omar) on drums, bassist Mike Ward, Brian Pickles on marimba and jazz drummer Chris Karan on tabla and percussion. Recorded in a matter of days in Pan's small 8-track studio, they carefully added overdubs, rhythm sections and four string sessions arranged by Hawkins, with Hewson's arrangements recorded at Trident Studios.

Seeds was Alan James Eastwood's debut solo album – indeed, his only solo album - and was originally issued on President in 1971. It melded Eastwood’s impressive rock sensibilities with a folk thread to superb effect. His arresting voice - its deep, rough-hewn soulfulness - coupled with gorgeous string-drenched backing, make this a phenomenal listen. It really is a great 70s singer-songwriter record - with touches of acid-folk and folk-funk throughout.

It opens with "She's Getting Married In August", a mellow tune with Richard Hewson's strings arranged around Alan's straightforward guitar structure. Up next, the joyous, sun-dappled guitar and strings workout "Evenin' Rain" glides by before the fragile, accordion-enhanced "Les Papillons" breezes out of the speakers. The bluesy "Zeena" follows, featuring vocals and acoustic guitar and showcasing Eastwood's effortless harmonica. Starting out as a ballad, "Virgin Morn" builds with soaring strings and gospel-tinged backing vocals from Marilyn Powell and jazz singer Josephine Stahl. The A-side closes with the title track, "Seeds". With a chugging mid-tempo beat, soulful vocals and a beautiful Bacharach-esque string arrangement, it truly is stop-you-in-your-tracks spectacular.

Side B opens with "Crystal Blue", gilded by Lye Fook's marimba, lush gospel-esque backing vocals and handclaps. Eastwood's acoustic guitar begins "Lady Carole", which starts as a bluesy ballad and builds with more string arrangement, lifting the track to another height. A towering highlight of epic proportions, "Lotus Child" is a true masterpiece of arrangement. It opens with simple yet stunning do-do-dah vocal harmonies blended with John Hawkins's strings, bass lines and rhythmic beats, forming a vibe very much in conversation with the sounds coming from LA's Laurel Canyon. Next up, the heartwarming "Last Prayer", dedicated to Alan's first and last love, contains a melancholic vocal with a wistful string-drenched arrangement that would sit comfortably in a Federico Fellini score. Bringing the album to a close, "Hymn For Today" is a melodic raga with tabla, strings and a soft-psych feel. Eastwood's prophetic whisper - "I am real. At last, I am real" - profoundly hits home.

Kicking off the extra disc is the sparsely funky and country-tinged "Boston", released as the flip to the astonishing "Seeds". Next up are the two tracks that comprised Alan’s debut solo 7" single from 1968. The laconic, Bobby Charles-esque "Blackbird Charlie" evidences a real depth and charm in Eastwood's songwriting whilst the starkly brilliant flip, "My Sun", was a horizontal, atmospheric folk-tinged soundtracky precursor to his later work on Seeds.

In 1972, two further standalone singles followed. The first was the evergreen flute-driven folk-funk bomb, "Closer To The Truth", backed by the funky blues of "Strange News". The second, a deeply moving Havens-inspired "Moonchild" - rightly fawned over to this day - was flipped with "Red Shoe Truckin'", a groove-infused track. Eastwood also paired up with Marilyn Powell for a single produced by Powell's partner, Mike Cooper. Under the name Eastwood & Powell, they released their staggering rendition of "Beautiful", a rock-blues-pop song arranged by Ivor Raymonde and written by Carole King. Over on the flip, a funky Eastwood original "Opal Blue Sunday" lurked. This is not to be overlooked.

Over the years, Alan remained active on the music scene, but problems with alcohol and health complications from diabetes severely impacted his career. He spent his latter years living in London until his untimely death from heart failure on 25 October 2007, just one day before his 62nd birthday and without his music having received the real acclaim it so dearly deserved.

This deluxe reissue, spellbinding from beginning to end, should hopefully go some way to rectifying this tragic fact. Mastering for this special double vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry. The original artwork has been lovingly brought back to life at Be With HQ, with the addition of passionately written liner notes specially for this landmark reissue by none other than Paul Hillery.

"Mixes Of A Lost World", konzipiert und zusammengetragen von Robert Smith, ist eine neue Remix-Sammlung von Tracks aus The Cure's gefeiertem #1 Album "Songs Of A Lost World", das im November 2024 erschien. Das neue Set enthält 16 brandneue Remixe von Künstlern wie Four Tet, Paul Oakenfold, Orbital und vielen anderen. Die Deluxe-Edition enthält zusätzlich Remixe und Reworks von Chino Moreno (Deftones), Mogwai, 65daysofstatic und vielen mehr. Bei den Künstlern handelt es sich um Freunde von Robert, die die Songs in einer atmosphärischen und stimmungsvollen Art und Weise kreiert haben. Sie sind es, die diesem unglaublichen Album ihre Tiefe verleihen. Die meisten von ihnen stammen selbst aus Bands und begeben sich mit ihren Kreationen auf einen neuen Weg der Entdeckung.

"Mixes Of A Lost World", konzipiert und zusammengetragen von Robert Smith, ist eine neue Remix-Sammlung von Tracks aus The Cure's gefeiertem #1 Album "Songs Of A Lost World", das im November 2024 erschien. Das neue Set enthält 16 brandneue Remixe von Künstlern wie Four Tet, Paul Oakenfold, Orbital und vielen anderen. Die Deluxe-Edition enthält zusätzlich Remixe und Reworks von Chino Moreno (Deftones), Mogwai, 65daysofstatic und vielen mehr. Bei den Künstlern handelt es sich um Freunde von Robert, die die Songs in einer atmosphärischen und stimmungsvollen Art und Weise kreiert haben. Sie sind es, die diesem unglaublichen Album ihre Tiefe verleihen. Die meisten von ihnen stammen selbst aus Bands und begeben sich mit ihren Kreationen auf einen neuen Weg der Entdeckung.

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.

The album’s title deftly gestures to the sheer vastness of astronomical dimensions, while simultaneously capturing the musical breadth within, where the eight planets are imagined as the eight notes of an octave. The work draws inspiration not only from earlier compositions —most notably Gustav Holst’s The Planets—but also from the rich astronomical and cultural contexts surrounding these celestial bodies. Here, the focus transcends direct citation of melodic motifs, instead embracing an intriguing conceptual approach on a meta level, unfolding in a series of vividly contrasting soundscapes. These contrasts shape a sweeping sonic journey, one that fully embraces the album format with both arms, inviting the listener to venture into realms both strange and wondrous, feeling the immensity of the interstellar space that lies between them. Contrast, after all, is the brushstroke that enriches our world.

Embarking on an auditory voyage, "Astral Guide" establishes the sonic framework that propels us into the boundless expanses of the cosmos. Its ethereal tones evoke the vastness of space, crafting a mood ripe for exploration within the realms of sci-fi. The subsequent tracks unfold like constellations, weaving a rich tapestry of sound that seamlessly marries cinematic soundscapes with pulsating, club-oriented rhythms. This album invites listeners to traverse its immersive landscapes, whether nestled in the comfort of home or dancing under the starlit sky, each note a guide through the transcendent experience of a nocturnal journey.

"Solar Flares" draws its inspiration from the awe-inspiring expanse of solar phenomena, capturing the majestic power of the sun as it reaches into the cosmos. This track resonates with the idea that energy, while vital, can also be a force of destruction when unleashed with overwhelming intensity. The composition beautifully mirrors the sun’s duality, where brilliance and devastation coexist, inviting listeners to reflect on the delicate balance between creation and annihilation. Through its rich textures and dynamic shifts, "Solar Flares" serves as both a homage to the celestial and a poignant reminder of nature's formidable power.

"Mercury – The Winged Messenger" embodies a meticulously crafted soundscape where artistry meets astronomy. The tempo of 173.6 BPM, derived from precise astronomical data, propels the composition into a vibrant realm that resonates with cosmic energy. Synthwave sound design intertwines seamlessly with the fluid rhythms of Drum’n’Bass, imbuing the piece with an uplifting dynamism that evokes the ethereal grace of Mercury itself. In this sonic exploration, listeners are invited to ascend on wings of sound, navigating the celestial tapestry of the universe with each invigorating beat.

"Venus, The Bringer of Peace" strikes a decidedly cozy note, presenting a poignant contrast to the more tempestuous themes often found in cosmic narratives. This composition evokes a nostalgic vision of an optimistic era, one in which humanity transcended borders and embraced the infinite possibilities of space exploration, where no destination felt too distant. The dense, languid atmosphere envelops the listener, creating a tangible sense of serenity that unfolds gradually, allowing for a meditative journey through sound. Each note serves as an invitation to linger in this tranquil embrace, reflecting on the harmonious potential of our collective aspirations and the beauty of connection in a vast universe.

The central theme of „Gaia, The Bringer of Life“ —originally not part of the planetary cycle— is the profound enabler of life on Earth. The arrangement delicately mirrors the slow, tentative unfolding of this potential, marked by an initially sparse orchestration that gradually builds in momentum. This progression crescendos, embodying the explosive dynamism of the Cambrian burst of life, ultimately culminating in a euphoric fanfare—a triumphant, celebratory flourish echoing life’s victorious emergence.

"Blue Moon" unfolds as a contemplative reverie on the tranquil clarity of a night sky, now seldom glimpsed in its natural purity, unclouded by the relentless haze of urban light. The listener is drawn into the vast embrace of the star-strewn firmament, a journey that sways between euphoric awe at nature’s sublime beauty and a profound melancholy for its fragile and imperiled state. Musically, this duality finds expression in the delicate interplay of modal mixtures, while an ever-shifting triplet groove, poised at the intersection of Outrun and melodic house, lends a pulse that is both nostalgic and forward-looking—echoing the beauty and transience of a world on the brink.

Rather than replicating the original composition of „Mars, The Bringer of War“, this interpretation seeks to evoke its profound, foreboding atmosphere. Cyberpunk emerges here as an ideal genre, channeling the dark, relentless march synonymous with Mars, the ancient god of war. The piece reverberates with intensity, as distorted vocalizations rise, embodying the anguish and visceral torment that shadow war’s violent crescendo. This auditory descent into conflict captures the relentless pulse of warfare, where sound itself becomes an embodiment of suffering and fury.

Majestically, "Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity" emerges on the celestial stage, sweeping away the somber tones with its radiant vigor. Drawing inspiration from the triumphant strains of the original, and borrowing a melodic motif in the refrain, the piece expresses joy and buoyancy through a shift to a major key and the lilting sway of a danceable 12/8 meter. Spirited and exuberant, it leaps boldly from major to minor and back again, playfully shifting time signatures to capture a mood of unbridled festivity and jollity.

Here, a more conciliatory concept is chosen than in the original inspiration. „Saturn“ aligns with the number six, being the sixth planet from the Sun and bearing the iconic hexagonal pattern at its northern pole. What, then, could be more fitting than to render this piece in a 6/8 time signature? The arrangement unfolds with a multifaceted richness, mirroring the countless stones and ice fragments that form the foundations of Saturn’s majestic rings.

„Uranus“ adopts the theme of a light-footed, dancing instrumentation, giving the impression of perpetual motion, never quite settling. This musical choice harmonizes with the planet’s own orbit, as it spins with breathtaking velocity, teetering and swaying, seemingly unable to attain rest or stability.

The chill and vastness of the cosmos find expression in „Neptune, The Mystic“. At its core, an electronic soundscape envelops a classical arrangement, its unreachability intensified by an ethereal, otherworldly choir. Hovering at the outermost boundaries of the solar system, where warmth is but a distant memory, the composition lingers in a slow, contemplative tempo, evoking a realm where space for speculation stretches wide and silence reigns supreme.

Though Pluto may have lost its planetary status, and its companion Charon never achieved one, this shift in classification subtly aligns with the cosmic scale invoked here—one that mirrors the musical tradition of an eight-note sequence. Fittingly, the album closes with „Kuiper Belt“, a composition emblematic of the turbulence and vitality of countless smaller

celestial bodies that, though diminutive, find their rightful place within the vast architecture of the solar system.

They say nature is the greatest composer, shaping the universe with a symphony of chaos and order, beauty and danger. It is this duality that fuels the artistic vision of Edictum—a producer who, armed with a doctorate in chemistry, delves as deeply into the mysteries of molecules as he does into the depths of sound. In the tension between the vastness of the cosmos and the microscopic processes that dictate life’s rhythm, Edictum creates sonic landscapes that dissolve the boundaries between science and art.

His music is a story of contrasts—a sonic tale where the raw forces of nature clash with the intricate structures of human culture. Opposites intertwine to form a harmonious whole: the primal rhythms of the earth meet the celestial melodies of the cosmos, the rigid laws of physics blend with the boundless freedom of art. Edictum explores these polarities with meticulous devotion, each composition an expedition into uncharted soundscapes—a quest to give voice to the unfathomable.

With over 20 years immersed in the realms of electronic music, Edictum has honed a keen sense for rhythm and movement. His driving beats compel both body and mind into a hypnotic flow. Yet beyond the pulse of dance lies a complex framework of conceptual thought. Today, his creative focus revolves around holistic album projects—self-contained worlds with overarching narratives that embrace contrast and complexity. Each track stands alone as a fragment of the whole, but together, they weave a cohesive tapestry, much like the chapters of a novel that guide the listener on an emotional and sonic journey.

Edictum’s distinctive musical signature has earned him international recognition. With over 150 releases, many on prestigious platforms like the iconic *NewRetroWave* label, and collaborations with artists such as Jan Johnston, Azumi Inoue, Powernerd, and Turbo Knight, he has solidified his place in the global electronic music scene. His latest work, *A Cosmic Scale*, marks his seventh vinyl album and is released under his own label, *Echoes of Expanse*. The label’s name is no coincidence—it captures the essence of his art: echoes of infinity, the vibrations of the universe distilled into a singular sonic experience that carries the listener ever further into the boundless expanse of sound and space.

His unmistakable mix of cold currents and warm melodies has made Martin Matiske a regular here at Bordello A Parigi.

Amore Galattico is the German artist’s third release with us, an intergalactic voyage with a synthesizer as a guide. The title piece is a bold, yet fragile, composition. Woven around slender drum patterns are flows and shifts, key changes and scaling notes where astral washes blend with romantic flourishes. Beats are bolstered and fortified by harmonic richness in “Cuore”, an analogue space opera of daring complexity and unsurpassable execution. Matiske’s twenty five years of experience are plain to hear in this quartet. His range and musical skill are coupled with an uncanny ability to balance contrasting tones. Glacial chords are buttressed by low juddering bass in “Heaven Knows”, the listener pulled ever skyward in this sublime work. The curtain fall maintains the cinematic and dramatic quality that underscores the EP. Striking synthlines shimmer before understated rhythms, a radiant finale on an EP that takes inspiration from the stars themselves.

'Science, Art And Ritual' is a story of ‘process'. Growing up in Harrow (a then quiet suburb of London) in the 70’s and 80’s from the age of about 10, Kingsuk Biswas aka Bedouin Ascent's ears opened up to sound as he scanned the airwaves. The undeniable righteousness of 80’s dub via David Rodigan’s Roots Rockers shows was the first prominent influence he received, and with punk roots —and his burgeoning record collection— became exposed to the breathless post punk experimentation that followed in the early 80’s sweeping up free jazz, noise, dub and much more. Throughout though, he maintained his fascination with Indian Classical music which was a mainstay in his parent’s house and spoke with the same infinite space as Joy Division's 'Unknown Pleasures', and King Tubby’s Studio dispatches. Through those teens he assembled and de-assembled, knocking about with fellow travellers —punk bands, garage, space rock, noise. Something was happening. On-U Sound, ECM, Factory Records kept him plugged in and sane.

At that time Kingsuk's core studio setup revolved around his vintage Gretsch, Fender Jazz, Moog, TR-606 and rudimentary FX. He added congas, folk instruments, pipes, hand percussion, gongs, and jammed out shards of funk, noise, jazz fusion, electro and ambience into his hungry Tascam Portastudio. By 1987 these had morphed into what we’d now refer to broadly as techno, but the genre didn't exist beyond the reverberating walls of his bedsit, and he hadn’t yet plugged into the global conversation.

'Science, Art And Ritual' was released in 1994 by Rising High Records and was presented as Bedouin Ascent's debut album, although 'Music for Particles' (released in 1995, again on Rising High) was recorded even before —'SAR' sessions span from 1992-1993, whereas 'Music for Particles' were earlier from 1989-1992, with some older 4-track references from about 1986 too.

Weaved in throughout the album are subconscious references to music that Kingsuk heard in the past that still remained within sight as companions. The opening track "Ancient Ocean III", referencing the extinct ocean Tethis, unapologetically channels Tackhead, Colourbox, Mantronix and Lee Perry. The style was also deliberately juxtaposed to the prevailing sound in techno at the time, which had locked onto a rigid form of symmetrical kicks and light snare drums. Elsewhere 80’s soul and funk are frozen and captured in fragile glass lattices. Electric pianos resound throughout, such as in "He Is She", probably a half-memory of 70’s MOR radio from childhood sleepy night drives. A duel between kick drums from three generations of Roland drum machines —TR-808, TR-707 and R-8— is a central theme in "Transition-R", all in conversation, calling and responding. These were not just machines to Bedouin Ascent, but part of an extended family, with heart and soul.

Three decades after seeing the light, Lapsus is proud to present a special 30th anniversary reissue of this
left-field techno gem in a repackaged and redesigned edition. All pressed on a deluxe 3LP marbled vinyl and including a limited lithographic insert print of the original album cover. All tracks have been restored and remastered directly from the original DAT tapes, and the album also features previously unreleased tracks such as "In the Clouds" and "Thru Water" —regularly performed live at that time and produced in the same period as the album sessions in 1993.

'Science, Art And Ritual’ may refer to esoteric traditions in Indian philosophy, but equally embodies the collision of the science, the art and the ritual that is at the core of being immersed in a deep musical journey.

2021. Italoconnection, the partnership of Fred Ventura and Paolo Gozetti, released Midnight Confessions Vol 1. Three years on, the awaited second volume has arrived. All of the analogue emotion that characterised the first collection is present from the outset, warm throbs of bass coupled with clean melodies in “The Wait”. Smoky lyrics permeate the nine track album, the unmistakable timbre of Ventura’s voice recanting tales of optimistic encounters and lost love. As with the 2021 release, collaborations with fellow italo romantics are peppered throughout. Francesca Gastaldi returns to work with Italoconnection once again. Having featured on their Humanize EP, Gastaldi’s vibrant voice shines through the smouldering synthlines and robust beats of “Live Forever”. Jaia Sowden takes centre stage for “Just Like Water”. A story of discontent and disconnect is sang over bittersweet keys as eastern undercurrents flow. Contemporary commentary is intertwined with undulating melodies and distant lyrics in “Cold War Lovers”, a cold wave edge cutting through the sounds and words of “Systematic” .The dancefloor surfaces throughout the record. Bodies are pulled tight by the bold and bright bars of “Why” before drifting apart in the lovelorn lamentations of “Lover 2 Lover”. “Europa” pays homage to the machine music of the continent as a litany of influences are drawn upon . The title piece closes. A fragile drum pattern is bolstered by cascading chords, piano notes sailing alongside words by Gastaldi and Ventura. Welcome confessions from musicians who live and breath the synthesizer traditions of Italy.

Few artists have done as much as Heinrich Dressel to rekindle the genre of soundtracks. Even fewer are as capable as the Italian at writing such silver screen scores. Yet, Valerio Lombardozzi is much more than just one style. He has shown this time and time again, doing so once more with The Obscure Cities. Works of fiction, rather than film, are the fount of inspiration with tracks drawing on the likes of J.G. Ballard, Francois Schuiten, Benoit Peeters and Valerio Mattioli. The listener is transported to worlds of Dressel’s own making, landscapes of melody, textures of bass punctuated by drums. “Galatograd” opens. From understated beginnings, the track expands into a symphony of strings as columns of warmth descend. Tempos rise for “Eden Olympia”. A different tone is set. Juddering arpeggios and clean snares are elevated by bright and hopeful keys that sparkle with an enthusiasm and innocence. Deep unctuous bass gives way to gliding notes for “Remoria”. A piece where melodies and memories melt in the morning dawn. “Mylos” is the last visit of the EP. Delicate, almost fragile, notes are buttressed by drum patterns in this hazy dreamlike finale.

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

Collecing orders for repress

Dawns Early Shadows By Berlin's Ubahn Platforms, Desperately Running From His Own Shadow Into The Arms Of A Lover Not Found. Eva Is A Warm Soul From The Past Trapped In A Ice Cold City Reliving A Modern Neues Sehen. We Are Proud To Present His Fragile Story & Namesake Ep / Single Title 'einsam' Which, In Our Opinion, Is A Romantic-wave Masterpiece. Flip To The B Side, The Beginning Of Eva's Loveless Story Actually Starts Here With 'the Gitter' Gearing To Machine Funk Territory And A Naive Outlook On What Could Be In-store For Him. Finally P808 Takes Us Into The (sub) Consciousness Of His Mind, Just As The 808 In The Name Suggest, Toms Pulsate Like His Brain Scanning Neurons Over And Over, Searching For The Answer, 'who Will ...who Will Love Me'

Celebrating a Decade of Dark Entries with a compilation titled ‘Tens Across The Board’. We revisit our roster and chose 10 songs from 10 bands from 10 different countries spanning the years 1981-1993. The songs flow in chronological order and have never appeared on vinyl, with 7 of the songs previously unreleased.

The compilation begins in 1981 with Parade Ground from Belgium, the duo of brothers Pierre and Jean-Marc Pauly with help from Patrick Codenys and Jean-Luc of Front 242. “The Light’s Gone” was one of their earliest experiments and employs a stark minimalism with modular synthesizers, guitar reverb and tape delay. Next we venture to Granada, Spain in 1982 to meet the trio of Diseño Corbusier. Influenced by Cabaret Voltaire and Dadaism, “La Esperanza está en Antenas” was the band’s take on melancholic pop fueled by a robotic DR-55 bass-line. Sailing the Mediterranean Sea to Athens to meet Greek electronic goddess Lena Platonos who shares a demo from 1983. “Μια Γάτα Σασ Περιμένει Στη Γωνία” translates to “A Cat Is Waiting On The Corner” and is possibly the witchiest sounds we’ve shared yet, ending with a blood curdling scream. Frozen in 1983 we cross Ionian Sea to Messina, Italy and visit Victrola, the duo of Antonino “Eze” Cuscinà and Carlo Smeriglio. They’ve unearthed a melodic instrumental version of “Luca” fueled by a Korg Polysix and TB-303. Traveling across the Adriatic to Slovenia circa 1984, where Borghesia are working on their album ‘Ljubav Je Hladnija Od Smrti’. “Magla” translates to “Fog” fitting for the thick, somber electronics of Aldo Ivancic providing a dense atmosphere for the baritone vocals of Dario Seraval.

On Side B we go down under to Sydney and excavate a hidden Tom Ellard song recorded in 1984 under the alias Lord Metal, an anagram of his name for copyright reasons. “Ga Duum Blitzfonika” is a slow-motion, unadulterated dance groove originally released on the cassette compilation "Independent World”. Skipping ahead to 1986 in Tours, France we salute X-Ray Pop the minimum new wave duo of Didier "Doc" Pilot and Zouka Dzaza. They contribute the hypnotically fragile “Corto Maltese” that originally appeared on the cassette compilation ‘Plop’. Crossing the German boarder we arrive in Dortmund at the apartment of Andreas Sippel of Second Decay who recorded the instrumental demo “Lübeckerstrasse” in 1988 with partner Christian Purwien. Utilizing an TR-808, SH-101 and Arp Odyssey this cold slice of futurism was named after the street Andreas lived on. Traveling westward to England, specifically Basildon, Essex to the teenage bedroom of From Nursery To Misery, the trio of identical twin sister vocalists Gina and Tina Fear and keyboard player Lee Stevens. “Contentment” is an introspective, ethereal pop song with child-like vocals that originally appeared on the Belgian tape compilation ‘Heartbeat Vol.4’ in 1989. Finally, we return home to San Francisco and close out the compilation with Cyrnai the moniker of multi-instrumentalist Carolyn Fok. “Digital Grit Box (Demo)” was an outtake from the ‘Transfiguration’ album sessions recorded in 1993, utilizing dark dance drum beats made with MIDI sequencer programs Studio Vision and Sample Cell.

All songs have been remastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios. The vinyl is housed in a custom designed jacket by Eloise Leigh featuring our label’s colors black-white-red with connect-the-dots pattern linking the 10 songs via maps/timeline/location, all relating to the reissue process, plus source images from San Francisco, our hometown. For this landmark release we've also printed a 2-sided fold-out wall poster that includes every artist we've released in our first 10 years 2009-2019 in black, red and silver metallic ink, plus an 8x11 insert with lyrics, notes and photos.

Double LP pressed on transparent red vinyl with black marbles. In Dying Light: The Beast, you step back into Kyle Crane's skin, but he's no longer the man he once was. Years of experiments have left him torn between fragile humanity and a monstrous power that he can barely control. Every light, every shadow, every choice feels dangerous. The forests and ruins of Castor Woods don't just set the stage, they breathe, they watch, and they punish the reckless. This is survival stripped to the bone, where horror is not just outside, but inside you. Olivier Deriviere's powerful and capturing score for Dying Light: The Beast doesn't just accompany Crane's journey, it is his voice. Sometimes it whispers in empty rooms, fragile and broken, sometimes it roars with distorted rhythms and pounding drums when the Beast takes over. Between silence and sound, the music pulls you deeper into Kyle's fractured soul, making every step and every heartbeat part of the story. It's not just a soundtrack, it's the echo of a man losing, and maybe finding, himself.