Search:only edges

Sex Tapes From Mars presents Outdom Records' boss, LATENT, who shares a brand-new four-track EP that spars with breakbeat, electro, house, and left-field electronics, neatly centring them all into a steady, sexy collision. The record as a whole captures genuinely original-sounding, rough-edged b-boy breaking badness - nostalgic, but never polite. It's a few BPMs slower than Sex Tapes' last few outings, but no less effective. Arguably, it's more late '80s sounding than ever, although, in fact, it's a brand-new, stonking release that showcases the label's versatility and unpredictability.

The opening track, "Break Machine", sets the pace with a clear nod to the '80s US group of the same name, bringing tidy drum workouts and clipped vocal samples that recall early Chicago, as well as choppy rave and street party energy at its most unfiltered.

"Disco Hijack" pushes the clutch into a more functional gear, merging delay-heavy, druggy, chuggy, sludgy bass with more robotic vocoder tropes, sharing something playful but IDM and European skewed. It's a dancefloor tool with a wink - just the style this now accomplished label has made its identity. Oh, don't forget the amens and clattering jungle breaks. 1990 or 2040? Fuck knows.

On "Distress Robot", pneumatic percussion and malfunctioning android chatter bring a darker, more mechanical edge, while "Virtual Body" closes with a spacious, garage-leaning shuffle that pulls the EP into recognisable contemporary yet still very much peak-time territory.

LATENT gives lean grit, pushes the edges, and lets the tracks feel alive in their imperfections. It’s music that thrives on tension between old-school reference points and modern floor pressure.

Bristol's label head Elon Dust HAS done it again.

Vinyl-only as per, don't sleep."

Shortly after the breakup of Flower Travellin’ Band, guitarist Hideki Ishima released his first and only solo album in 1973—a hauntingly beautiful work that stands apart in the landscape of ’70s Japanese rock. Known for his later work as a sitar player, Ishima showcases a signature floating guitar sound throughout the album, blending psychedelic rock, acid folk, and introspective singer-songwriter elements into a deeply personal and atmospheric record.

Contributing to this richly textured sound are some of the most notable names from the era: fellow Flower Travellin’ Band member George Wada (drums), future Transam collaborators Chito Kawachi (drums) and Nobuhiko Shinohara (keyboards), and Katsuo Ohno (keyboards) of PYG.

Now reissued with a bold, powerful remaster by Makoto Kubota, this overlooked gem captures a vital moment in Japan’s underground rock evolution and demands a fresh listen from those exploring the outer edges of the genre.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Absurd Matter’ is a labyrinthine sonic conundrum that spirals around the two poles of extreme noise and hiphop. It's Berlin-based Italian producer Shapednoise's first album in four years and confidently advances his narrative into the next chapter, building on the groundwork of his prior abstractions to emerge with a coherent genre-warped fusion of urgent rap, crushing bass weight and idiosyncratic sound design. After spending years scrupulously deconstructing club music, Nino Pedone has rebuilt it brick by brick in his image.

The album is the first release on Pedone's brand new imprint WEIGHT LOOMING, a multidisciplinary label platform that's set to explore the depths of bass music, textured noise and abrasive transcendence. It follows a slew of acclaimed releases for Numbers,
Opal Tapes, Type and his own Cosmo Rhythmatic label, and forward thinking collaborations with Kenyan beat alchemist Slikback and Hyperdub-signed Angolan producer Nazar. Pedone's most ambitious project to date, ‘Absurd Matter’ taps into kinetic energy from a hand-picked selection of collaborators, including New York rap duo Armand
Hammer, French DJ/producer Brodinski, Bruiser Brigade's ZelooperZ and vanguard Philly poet, musician, and activist Moor Mother.


On ‘Family’, Billy Woods and Elucid weave a dismal, apocalyptic landscape with their razor-sharp anecdotes. The duo’s macabre imagery is given artificial life by Pedone's industrial scrapes and rattles that curl around their worlds like thick smoke. It's still rap, just about, but lodges itself in the back room of a factory, machines running themselves to an early death. Pairing with techno-rap trailblazer Brodinski, Pedone edges further towards the sound system, spatializing rhythms in four dimensions around Detroit rapper
ZelooperZ's playful expressions. This is the Italian producer's sci-fi tinged liquefaction of radio echoes, a way to fire familiarity into the void and sublime the human voice into weightless mist. When Moor Mother arrives shouting "me me me" on the aptly-titled 'Poetry', it sounds as if all of Pedone's loose threads are being tightened into a knot. His misshapen neo-grime beats sound like a broken jet engine, but smartly cede power to Moor Mother's resonant rhymes. "You can't cancel me" she assures. ‘Absurd Matter’ is a defining personal development for Pedone that not only appraises his career so far, but diverts its logic into frighteningly new sonic territory. From great loss, the producer has determined his work's cardinal themes, and sounds more strident and far heavier than ever before.

Classic black 2LP in gatefold! "Her darkest, heaviest and most personal album yet . . . a haunting, doomy exercise in loud-quiet dynamics." Rolling Stone Sleep paralysis plagues singer/songwriter Chelsea Wolfe, and that strange intersection of the conscious and the unconscious has inadvertently manifested itself within her work. Across the span of her first four albums, there is an underlying tension, a distorted and nebulous territory where dark shadows hover along the edges of the sublime and the graceful. But until now, Wolfe's trials and tribulations with the boundaries between dreams and reality have only been a subconscious influence on her work. With her fifth album, Abyss, she deliberately confronts those boundaries and crafts a score to that realm she describes as the "hazy afterlife. an inverted thunderstorm. the dark backward. the abyss of time." Chelsea Wolfe's material has always felt intensely private, from the almost voyeuristic bedroom-production aesthetic of her debut album The Grime and the Glow to the stark themes and atmospheres of 2013's Pain Is Beauty. "Abyss is meant to have the feeling of when you're dreaming, and you briefly wake up, but then fall back asleep into the same dream, diving quickly into your own subconscious," says Wolfe. To conjure this in-between world, Wolfe continued her ongoing collaboration with multi-instrumentalist and co-writer Ben Chisholm and drummer Dylan Fujioka, with Ezra Buchla brought on board to play viola and Mike Sullivan (Russian Circles) enlisted to contribute guitar. The ensemble traveled to Dallas, TX to record with producer John Congleton (Swans, St. Vincent). In the back of her mind burned the words of designer Yohji Yamamoto: "Perfection is ugly. Somewhere in the things humans make, I want to see scars, failure, disorder, distortion." The resulting eleven songs reflect that philosophy as they smoulder with human frailty, intimacy, quiet passion, anxiety, and deep longing. "Sleep and dream issues have followed me my whole life," remarks Wolfe as she revisits notes from the writing and recording sessions. In a way, these issues have become a part of Chelsea Wolfe's identity, for whom the notion of sleep as an escape has been subverted. Abyss captures this dichotomy, this battle between the soothing and the upsetting, and demonstrates why Chelsea Wolfe has become one of the most intriguing songwriters of the decade.

For the first time on vinyl a collection of tracks by Cortex, Alain Neffe (Bene Gesserit,Insane Music) experimental spoken-word project originally released on tape in 1984.

Cortex was never intended to be a conventional musical project.
From the very beginning it was centered around free live performances. These encounters were stripped down and highly visual: Alain Neffe constructed a trapezoidal fluorescent white screen lit by black light.

The narrator—la récitante—was only illuminated in the face, while the rest of the stage remained in complete darkness.
This created a ghostly effect where the audience could see only her glowing face and dark silhouette. She was a beautiful young woman, with a striking presence, and beside her, Alain Neffe played synthesizer and created sonic effects.
The aim of Cortex was to deliver a minimalist and emotional experience, one centered on text and the voice of the narrator.

Most of the tracks that exist today were recorded informally during rehearsals, using two microphones placed in front of Marshall amps, captured directly to cassette.
La récitante could choose a text from a collection of hundreds. Then, the music was improvised in real time around her voice. That process, simple, direct, and instinctive produced a body of work that’s rough around the edges, but full of presence. It’s not polished, but that’s the point.

Cortex was focused entirely on the connection between voice and sound.

Limited to 300 copies

Remember: you could be dreaming. Sinking or flying, sound-catching or singing. Witnessing a distant storm in silence, how it exposes purple clouds in unpredictable flashes. Hearing a submarine eruption and finding natal comfort in the warm, fragrant smoke that only wants to sheathe all your edges. The circus has left, only placards remain. And the snow. Look how the flakes sway to your feet without effort - any distance is misleading, illusory. There’s only dream and memory – the two wings of a bird that flaps with an ocean wave, blinks with an eye of a lighthouse. Fragile, you could be dreaming not alone, holding hands with the core of things. The molten core, like touching ice. You could be dreaming. Dreaming in perfect memories of shapes imperfect. Dreaming of the earth raining from the sky, of the wind inside the sea, of the lighthouse & the ship kissing, of exotic fishes in the bay of your ear. Everything is real. If you play. If you dare to ignore the margins. Echoes go on forever. They play with themselves in a stream of mirrors. Echoes of a forgotten language, of a language unwritten - a soothing, indifferent creole that reconciles feeling with understanding. Bathe in the fountain at the source of resonance. Bathe in the clouds on the eyes of intimate strangers passing. Disappear. Disappear and be seen, like the moonlit mist behind your eyes. And sway between hope and wisdom.

All songs written, performed and produced by Sasha Vinogradova and Alina Anufrienko
Recorded in Garnet village, Dmitrovsky region, Russian Federation (February 2020)

Following the hyperactive “Blood Karaoke” (2022, Reading Group), “Performing Belief” builds rhythmic thickets from gathered sounds interwoven with synths, drum machines and other samples. Having built these rhythmic nests, Krivchenia then called on two contemporary mages of the low end: electric bassist and fellow Angeleno Sam Wilkes (Wilkes/Gendel) and double bassist/multi-instrumentalist from Krivchenia’s native Chicago, Joshua Abrams (Natural Information Society). Wilkes and Abrams bring the presence of a grounding human witness to the rhythmic undergrowth, providing a centering and even at times melodic voice to the gathering. This alchemy carries a profoundly fresh sense of time, blurring the edges of the quantized grid and the generic boundaries of electronic music.

The core of the album is a lush, opulent matrix of percussion ranging from the familiar—hand claps and drum machines—to the mysteriously verdant, sampled largely from Krivchenia’s own performed field recorded collection. For years, he would record any and all of his musical encounters with natural objects: performing on a particularly resonant log on a hike, throwing rocks into a pristine pond, tap dancing in the mud. This archive of “natural” sounds became the fertile soil out of which the tracks on “Performing Belief” grew. What is gained in the process is not just a novel set of sounds, but a new rhythmic language. The particular give, the anticipatory rustle, the extra breath of a hollow log when functioning as a kickdrum provides a greenness that overtakes the rhythmic grid, giving this music a peculiar kind of stickiness. This rhythmic language, set in Krivchenia’s long-fermenting electronic musical palate, feels like a revelation, even while it calls back not only to his wonderfully elastic timekeeping behind the kit with his beloved band Big Thief, but also to his prior work in computer music as well as his deep study and love of the vast human archive of drumming. “Performing Belief” is in good company in the rank and file of the legendary Planet Mu label. From the foundational early releases of the likes of Jega and Venetian Snares, to the contemporary envelope-warping work of Jlin and hundreds of brilliant releases in between, Planet Mu has been a beacon of forward-thinking rhythmic music for decades, informing Krivchenia’s own sense of the weird metaphysics of musical time since he was a kid. Krivchenia’s contribution to this history calls to mind the principle of organic danceability that subtends Mu’s whole catalogue, while bending our sense of rhythm in new and gracious dimensions. Krivchenia brings out the loamy complexity of natural rhythms, a clearing as generous as it is inviting. Let the drummer give you some.

Totality! It can only be good news. The second convergence of Natural Information Society and Bitchin Bajas, years removed from the first, misses no steps and posits low-key revolutions in gravity for everyone instead. LPs divide inevitably into two halves; here, the first side could be typed "space" and the second side "time". With loads of totally principled playing in the communal feel, both sides blur the edges warmly.

Totality! It can only be good news. The second convergence of Natural Information Society and Bitchin Bajas, years removed from the first, misses no steps and posits low-key revolutions in gravity for everyone instead. LPs divide inevitably into two halves; here, the first side could be typed "space" and the second side "time". With loads of totally principled playing in the communal feel, both sides blur the edges warmly.

This record marks not only the first-ever release of the This War of Mine original game soundtrack but also a milestone 10th anniversary of the game. With its bestselling status, cult following among players, educational usefulness and recognition as a poignant symbol of war's threat to human lives-underscored by honours such as the recent Special Award from Amnesty International-it has been a decade of remarkable success. Yet, we cannot truly celebrate while wars continue to claim lives, stripping away humanity with relentless and senseless cruelty. To mourn in silence, however, would be equally futile. Instead, we're once again using This War of Mine as a platform for change through the Forget Celebrations charity DLC, now available for the PC (Steam) version of the game. Composer Piotr Musia? is looking back at the creation process for the music of This War of Mine and points out the significance the soundtrack still has for him: "This War of Mine was one of those projects, where picking up an electric guitar and playing on it felt like a good idea, although I'd never done it before. It gave the music this unpolished character - it's rough around the edges to match the grim atmosphere of the game. Just like its characters, I felt lost at first and it took me a while to figure it all out. For this and many reasons, it was an emotional ride and the music still feels special to me."

Limited edition classic black vinyl mini-album of cathartic slowcore by The Declining Winter, the new vehicle of Richard Adams, formerly of Domino Records post-rockers, Hood. The next release on the acclaimed boutique English independent label, Second Language Music, will be ‘Last April,’ the new mini-album by The Declining Winter, a raw, deeply emotional monument of loss, grief and heartbreak that treads in the footsteps of Red House Painters’ ‘Down Colorful Hill,’ Low’s ‘I Could Live In Hope’ and Songs: Ohia’s ‘Didn’t It Rain.’ This is not a heart-on-your-sleeve record. It does away with the sleeve and goes straight for carving a heart on the arm. Recordings which emerged out of a period of shock, grief and trauma, these six songs were all written on the same night and form a stately tribute to a loved one lost. The Declining Winter strip things back to just Richard Adams’ plaintive voice and acoustic guitar, alongside the beautiful, irrefutably melancholy string arrangements/playing of Sarah Kemp (Brave Timbers). There’s been no attempt to plane off any rough edges – here and there, the creak of a chair, a guitar note missed, a voice almost cracking with emotion – these recordings are like cathartic scrawls in a diary. Only this one has been left out for anyone to read. As with his previous band, Hood, Adams has a way of evoking a particularly pastoral, English melancholy, of lonely morning hikes in inclement weathers, of rain on slate in the West Yorkshire streets where he was raised and still lives.

Over 19 tracks, Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music mines gold from dollar bin country-rock detritus to reconstruct events as seen from the genre's wild west - Americana's vast private press substructure. As progenitor and contemptuous poster boy for the music that came to be Cosmic American, Gram Parsons found himself mired in a recording career spent mostly in scouting the perimeters of chart success. "He hated country-rock," Parsons collaborator Emmylou Harris would later reflect. "He thought that bands like the Eagles were pretty much missing the point." Parsons had been orbiting the idea of Cosmic American Music for some time. In 1968 he'd parted ways with the Byrds and was looking to take air with a new project. "It's basically a Southern soul group playing country and gospel-oriented music with a steel guitar" he told Melody Maker, on the subject of The Flying Burrito Brothers. So it was that when A&M's Burrito Brothers debut The Gilded Palace of Sin made it to shelves in February of 1969, early adherents to the Cosmic American gospel were already echoing its message from areas flanking Gram Parsons' Southern California hills and canyons. There was F.J. McMahon in coastal Santa Barbara, Mistress Mary further inland in Hacienda Heights, and Plain Jane of Albuquerque, New Mexico, each responding by committing their own private readings to tape before day one of the 1970s. Parsons himself might've disdained them, had he even been aware of such minor ripples, shimmering at the edges of his desert oasis. But these were true believers all the same, given over fully to his roots music concept, each filling vinyl grooves with non-rock instrumentation like fiddle, banjo, and pedal steel guitar, the last undoubtedly Cosmic American Music's most distinguishing stringed signifier. Only too predictably, big labels did the grunt work of confining and defining the movement, as ABC, United Artists, RCA, and more played catch-up with Asylum's raptor rock juggernaut, via backwoods crossover also-rans with names like Gladstone, American Flyer, and Silverado. Twang reigned, the shitkickers kicked shit, and the vaguely western-sounding guitar records piled up. Country-rock became "the dominant American rock style of the 1970s," as Peter Doggett's comprehensive Are You Ready for the Country put it much later. Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music picks up and dusts off golden ingots from the dollar-bin detritus of that domination, to reconstruct events as seen from the genre's real Wild West-America's one-off private press label substructure.

Here, gleaming tensile techno forms clean, straight lines while scratchy acoustic guitars scuff up edges to produce

ghostly audio. Poetry is snatched from the overhead, removed from the overheard; words borrowed from the ether are

spun into dizzying new shapes, sometimes reappearing in new settings, twisted back to front, side to side. Each track a

very different room - some soundtracked by little more than metronomic kick drum and robotic voice, others deep in

layer upon layer of melody and euphoric noise - and each room unmistakably, uniquely Underworld. The only advice

from Underworld’s Rick Smith and Karl Hyde upon entering: “Please don’t shuffle.”

Strawberry Hotel features the singles ‘and the colour red’ and ‘denver luna’, as well as new release ‘Black Poppies’ - a

celestial love song, a hymn to the universe and to boundless, positive change. Ambient and beatless, Black Poppies is

a celebration of full dancefloors and the beauty of life itself.

Underworld are Rick Smith and Karl Hyde. Their peerless first album - dubnobasswithmyheadman - was released to universal acclaim in 1994. In the thirty years since that mould breaking debut, the band have established their reputation as one of the most groundbreaking and important electronic acts of all time, one that constantly pushes creative boundaries, twists genres, and refuses to stay still. In those thirty years, their music has soundtracked approximately 100,000,000 nights out, and the mornings after. In the past year alone, Underworld have played live in front of over half a million people across the globe.

Described by Steve Lamacq as “so elegant and haunted, in an almost gothic way, but with that bass momentum of proper post-punk”. This is the debut album from bloody/bath. 10 tracks inspired by the unsettling sounds of horror soundtracks, early 2000’s indie rock guitar lines and mental illness, ‘In An Empty Space, I’m Screaming’ is as anthemic and cathartic as it is eerie. Produced by Matt Peel (Yard Act, WH Lung, Dream Wife, Divorce, Eagulls), the record is dissonant post-punk filtered through a myriad of sonic palettes. Lead single ‘Suffering’ evokes catchy indie rock while opener ‘Strangling of the Dog’ finds itself firmly in the harsher edges of the genre. The album also features ‘Idle Hands’ which was championed by Iggy Pop and played on BBC Radio 6Music by Iggy, Steve Lamacq and Lauren Laverne. This limited edition vinyl on translucent red with black smoke marble is limited to only 100 distro copies. Link to Soundcloud tracks - ‘Strangling of the Dog’, ‘Heather’ and ‘Unholy Cross II’

Chita, the third album proper by Japanese guitar pop trio Usurabi, is their most elegant, stylish confection yet. Over the past four years, Toshimitsu Akiko (vocals, guitar), Kawaguchi Masami (bass) and Morohashi Shigeki (drums) have been recording, playing live, and releasing songs of rare melodic warmth, centring Toshimitsu’s unique musical vision, where melancholy and joy can co-exist, a split-second flick of her wrist switchblading the guitar from languorous sweetness to overloaded rock action.

Chita expands on the smartly sculpted pop and rock songs found on their previous albums, Remains Of The Light (2021) and Outside Of The World (2023), while infusing the music with more of the rough- housing energy that also coursed through the live CD, Once In A Red Room, they self-released in January 2024. There’s still a through-line, of course, that connects the music here to Toshimitsu’s earlier groups, Doodles and Animone, but Chita feels more deeply like a sussed, sharp take on the crumbling edges of sixties psychedelic folk and rock: the harmonica that blasts through the opener, “Bansho”, is pure Dylan in effect.

One of the many smart things about Usurabi, though, is that they never feel beholden to the historical moment. Soon after “Bansho”, we encounter “TurnOff”, a lush pop song that turns on a dime, with Toshimitsu tearing fuzztone notes from six strings that are like a more folk-reverent Kaneko Jutok. And there’s something about the guitar and bass riff that doubles through the thrilling two-and-a-half minutes of “Hakanonaka” that’s a dead ringer for the Only Ones. Flip the record, and things get more expansive, the spindly jangling of the title song spiralling ever inwards, before the sweet, sugary rush of “Kanata” resolves to the martial rhythms that pulse through “Aseranai”, winding the album down to its poetic, becalmed resolution.

"A landmark in 80s experimental ambient music - previously tape-only, here released for the first time on vinyl, spread across a double LP with five additional tracks, four of which were previously unreleased. Remote Dreaming has been freshly remastered and includes an insert with photos and liner notes.

Dark Entries summons Philadelphia synthesizer scribes The Ghostwriters to rouse their ambient masterwork Remote Dreaming. The late Buchla maestro Charles Cohen and multi-instrumentalist Jeff Cain joined up in 1971 to craft electroacoustic chaos as Anomali, later renaming themselves The Ghostwriters.

Their collaborations with choreographers and visual media artists led to their singular style, straddling improvisation and composition, the oneiric and the immediate. Following their debut album, Objects in Mirrors Are Closer Than They Appear, they were approached by ambient outlet Mu-Pysch. Remote Dreaming would take shape in various studios over nine months. Jeff Cain's instruments on this project included electric and acoustic pianos, the Juno 106 synthesizer, and a Mirage sampler, while Charles Cohen used his signature Buchla 200 Series Electronic Musical Instrument. A stark departure from the tightly wound first LP, Remote Dreaming shows the duo unfurling with soothing pianos and psychoacoustic textures, its somnambulant drones just skirting the edges of the uncanny. Although ignored in its time, Remote Dreaming is now heralded as a landmark in 80s experimental ambient music.

Proceeds will be donated to SOSA (Safe from Online Sex Abuse), a nonprofit that combats online child sex abuse and trafficking"

Not so long ago in 2017, the first release on Michiel Claus' and Ailsa Cavers' Basic Moves saw the light of day and especially the shine of night. Produced by founding father Walrus, BM01 set the tone for a record label that focuses on releasing hidden archives from the 90s, whilst combining them with modern club music from the here and now. By highlighting the musical heritage of the Belgian electronic music scene, the label illustrates the continuity between past and present, history and shaping identities of 21st-century artists, undeniably building on the strong foundations of their forerunners. Seven years and nineteen releases later, Basic Moves is rounding off the series with BM20, a final double 12'' by one of the major figures from the Belgian underground: Circadian Rhythms also known as Dj Deg. After many years of collecting, deejaying and producing music, his musical spectrum ranges from synth, library and wave, to jazz, funk and disco, from house to techno. His journey started in clubs like Bocaccio (1988 - 1993), and La Gait? (1979 -1989), where young Deg came across deejay's like Olivier Pieters or Eric Beysens who made him choose the path of becoming a devoted disc jockey himself. BM20 is a sonic witness of Deg's first musical encounters with his machines, revealing a withdrawn selection of six bedroom patchwork tracks produced between the years of '93 & '99, a time without the internet or user manuals to help you solve the riddles of technology. Though only at the very beginning of his creative process, Deg's unique personality is nevertheless already clearly identifiable: blending techno with jazz, where the sharp edges of 16-step drum-sequences are smudged and bent in different directions. In the lower countries, the second half of the 90s was a period of fast & funky, happy Detroit, 140 BPM techno. Whenever Deg was not oscillating between record shops or gigs and had a moment on his own, mostly during morning hours after the club, he would spend his leftover energy in the studio. Either by himself or with his loyal ally Mike DMA, he would benefit from these moments to slow down and give space to a different, introverted sound - processing moods, feelings and thoughts. This record therefore gathers only a few of many (unrecorded) one-shot live sessions which were never intended to be shared - and only existed for the love of music and its power to take you beyond all things known. Thank you Deg for sharing your music and giving us a glimpse of your universe. Without your productions, your memorable warm-ups and closing sets - many of us would not be where we are now, and Basic Moves might never have been founded. As a last note to a closing song, BM20 is about being fully committed to the music and the club, a medium and place of fruitful settings for encounters, creativity and growth. Where dreams and ideas have a chance to exist, being almost ready and thought out to shape future times to come - and many party nights. Gurl, December 2023

Sasu Ripatti presents the fourth volume in his "Dancefloor Classics" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.

He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?

He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.

”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”

New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.

She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”

”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Patterns / Threshold, a collaborative split offering from Mesure Divide and Esse Ran, plunges the listener into a disquieting expanse of undulating rhythms and transmuted textures. Here, melodies and harmonies dissolve, fracturing into a heavy, systolic throb that whispers of superposition and entanglement.

Lush synthesizers shimmer with a noetic luminescence, their tones arching and bowing alongside relentless cyclical beats and sloshing electronics. Refractions of rave culture thrumming in stillness, their ecstatic energy dissipating into a radiant hum - a melancholic undercurrent born from the tension between fleeting exuberance and enduring inanition. This is a realm of heady paradox, where rigid structure and fluid intuition converge.

The artists navigate this liminal space with masterful precision, guiding the listener through a landscape of aural oscillations. Perception teeters on the edge of the concrete and the ephemeral; perception dissolves; reality grows soft at the edges.

Patterns / Threshold will be released on physical vinyl records and bandcamp only. No streaming, no bullshit.

Mode_1 Reclaim EP by DIG Records

Cover // Augmented reality by Omer Avarkan


********************************AUGMENTED REALITY COVER ***********************************

After a stellar debut release in 2023, vinyl-only label Dust in Grooves, sees its anticipated second EP Reclaim, showcasing one of Dublin's gleaming underground talents Mode_1. Establishing DIG as a progressive sonic platform, founder Olivia Mendez is also curating a series of dynamic augmented reality covers for each EP. Adding more layers into the sound experience of the Reclaim vinyl is motion designer and visual artist Omer Avarkan.


Mode_1's dedication to uncovering layers of tough but rhythmic grooves, both as a DJ and a producer, has led him to make a mark on legendary techno imprints such as Knotweed, FiedelTwo, Truncate and Naked Lunch. Staying true to his advancing, dynamic sound laid with dexterous technique, Robert Kavanagh delivers a collection of four ominous tracks, pulsating with incandescent pads and pacey drums.


The EP opens with the relentless and driving Sigma, setting the tone for a swiftly moving ride across the record. With playful shifting of gears and jacking rhythms, the A2 flows into the next track Dusty Room, utilising the bleepy pitches in contrast to the expansive spheric tones, offering an energetic boost of a melodic techno work-out, with hints of sharp dub edges.


Reclaim on B1 highlights the versatility of Mode_1, comprising multi-layered scales, evolving spiral sounds and a build-up of reverberating tones that escalate with poise. As a closing track of the record, Platform 8 is one of those B2 sides that you keep reaching out to. This ultimate big-floor tool is loaded with advancing movement, keys with mystical undertones, and depth of texture that play with the infinite nature of the number eight.


Unlocking the animated cover of the EP and seeing it come to life virtually, adds a new dimension to the classic format of the vinyls. To unlock its motion, follow the riddle on the back.


All tracks mastered by Nihad Tule.


Words by Lora Mateeva, Orb Mag

Perc Trax hits 100 releases with Perc returning with his first album in seven years. 'The Cut Off' is Perc's fourth album following 'Wicker & Steel' (2011), 'The Power & The Glory' (2014) and Perc Trax's best ever selling release 'Bitter Music' (2017).

'The Cut Off' see's Perc deliver his most dance floor focused album to date, serving up enough energy to keep contemporary dance floors moving, whilst avoiding both the cliched 90's throwback hard techno formula that is dominant right now and the stuckist 'real techno' blueprints that are still endlessly regurgitated having been established over 30 years ago.

Across the album Perc's well established industrial credentials collide with giant sized synth riffs, driving acid lines (a first for a Perc album) and all manner of drones, choral performances, urban textures and even a dentist's drill (on 'Static'). Gliding arpeggios and slow moving melodic lines feature more on this album than ever before without dulling the sharp edges of Perc's music.

'The Cut Off' more than any previous Perc long player is an album that focuses on the club, the dancer and the dance floor. Yes, there are moments of respite between the classic Perc percussive workouts, but they are far outnumbered by the varied collection of club tracks that come at the listener from every angle.

Collaborations include Sissel Wincent, a regular collaborator with Peder Mannerfelt. Perc remixed Peder & Sissel's 'Sissel &Bass' track to great effect in 2019 and now Sissel returns the favour appearing on 'Static', the album's only full vocal track. Also collaborating with Perc is EAS, one of America's fastest rising techno artists who delivers the raw acid lines that power album highlight 'Cold Snap'. Finally London based metal vocalist Leandro Bastos adds his abrasive vocal tones to 'Imperial Leather', the first single to be taken from 'The Cut Off'.

The 'Cut Off' was recorded in Perc's own studio and mixed by Perc at Map Studios in London. The album was mastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis Studios. Album design was handled by Lucas Grassmay, who previously worked on I Hate Models' debut album on Perc Trax in 2019. The album will be supported a run of dates around the world where Perc will be performing a special live set based around the album as well as his infamous DJ sets.

What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley

For a few years Leo Robinson was the sort of hidden secret you sometimes come across in local music scenes. First in Manchester and now in Glasgow, he’d pop up regularly on DIY bills or as local support to a touring act, quietly blowing them off stage with his rich baritone vocal and homespun lo-fi tales of folklore and animism. With The Temple – his debut on PRAH Recordings – he looks set to cross over from being a cult concern.

“There's a spectrum within the album between fully mythologising or symbolising my lived experience, and just stating it in very matter of fact terms - that push and pull between the need to abstract and the need to break through the abstraction and have an honest moment with oneself” he explains. “This is one of the themes of the album as well as part of the process. The aim was to take all these anecdotal or symbolic elements and merge them into one narrative and one world, in a way that you can find your way through the record as if it were a landscape or language with its own logic.”

The record takes on a pastoral, slightly baroque nature that Robinson partly attributes to a friend screening a lot of ‘70s BBC material in his book shop that they used to hang out at. There are also elements of jazz, flickering to life in “The Spring”’s piano-led finale and coda.

Thematically, Robinson likens it to a Jungian ‘Hero's Journey’, his voice possessing a character who goes through several defined stages of consciousness. From conception and the beginning of an earthly life, the first half of the album recognises the development of the protagonist’s narrative and identity, before “The Pink Light”’s freeform departure from the hitherto more song-based suite devastatingly shatters this. The second half of the album then sees the protagonist witness “the uncontainable” water; learning that true divinity lies not in the individual self or lofty notions of gods and temples, but in the unremarkable nettles, insects and dogs on the roadside riverbank - referenced on tracks “The Cormorant” and “The Spring”.

Although now residing north of the border, The Temple was written while Robinson was finding his feet in Manchester, having moved there to go to art school as a teenager (as a visual artist, he has exhibited at the Tiwani Contemporary in London and Cardiff’s Chapter Arts Centre). As a result, many of the tracks bear out the shadows of his experiences in the northern city – at their most visible and explicit on the beautifully fragile storytelling of “The Pavement”. Written the day after the Manchester Arena Bombings, it recalls Robinson waking up to go to work on a hot summer’s day to discover that his street had been blocked off for terrorism investigations; it then progresses through the rest of his day, amidst the grimly surreal aftermath of the previous night.

Having written the chords, melodies and lyrics to the album, Robinson fleshed out the tunes by scoring out parts for the additional instrumentation, but it was only when a friend sent a demo to PRAH that he was able to fund its full recording. Guitars, vocals, piano and French Horn (the latter recorded by Lauren Reeve-Rawlings) were put down at Green Door Studios in Glasgow. Microphones were placed around the room and the sound of the musicians stepping on creaky floorboards and opening creaky doors were left audible to further the record’s live feel. The harpsichord heard on “The Serpent”, meanwhile, came from University of Glasgow lecturer David McGuinness. Strings were then recorded at PRAH Studios by Francesca Ter-Berg and Raven Bush, the Social Singing Choir adding their choral vocals to “Temple II”.

The result is an album that feels both luscious and yet intimately raw; as grand as Richard Dawson at his most panoramic but containing the rough edges and skeletal looseness of a Calvin Johnson work. At times Robinson lyrically moves towards the surreal, but ultimately this is a record grounded in reality; a true showcase of Robinson’s skill as a lyricist and songwriter.

French pianist Dorian Dumont is an exceptionally gifted, Brussels-based jazzman and member of electronic experimentalists, ECHT! In 2021, he released his debut solo album 'APHEXionS' - a challenging exercise of solo piano focussed entirely on the music of one of the most influential and important artists in contemporary electronic music, Richard James, aka Aphex Twin. Dumont's sophomore album, 'to the APhEX', released 23rd February via W.E.R.F. Records, continues that fascination with his musical hero and acts as a musical love letter of sorts - a groundbreaking experience, where the enchanting world of classical piano collides with the electronic brilliance of Aphex Twin. Richard James' music serves as a starting point for Dumont's musical developments which are sometimes composed and often improvised, letting him find his playing field around the concepts and the poetics of the genius of electro music. Contrary to what one would expect, there are no electronics involved but Dumont carefully transcribes a wide selection of Aphex Twin's music to the grand piano, giving the songs a whole new dimension. Dumont starts from the melody lines and rhythmic structures found in the original tracks but builds on them, deconstructing pieces and adding his own improvisations. Lovingly recreated, the songs take on a completely new dimension, and it exposes both the genius and musicality of Aphex Twin and Dumont himself. "Aphex Twin is a fascinating artist and character. At first, I started transcribing his pieces just to understand them. I then sat on my acoustic piano for the pleasure of hearing these pieces that I loved so much only to realize that in the end I was improvising, I was playing. In short: I was having fun. That's how this project was born: through pleasure and games. The challenge then was to develop the concept of this project to find my own playground and my own responses around the musical principles of Mr. Richard James, in order to make this project a celebration on my own terms."

Always curious about new sounds and cultivating eclecticism, 'to the APhEX' stays truthful to the minimalistic aesthetics from the original tracks. From the unruly, emotionally stirring '180db_ 130' to the simple beauty of 'Windowlicker', Dumont is part of a new generation of musicians who have no intention of sticking to the rules. Dumont dances across the keys, perfectly capturing the mood and feeling of Aphex Twin, where classical meets electronic. Elsewhere, 'PAPAT4 155[pineal mix]' is stripped to the core showcasing Dumont's ingenuity, while 'Avril 14th' and album finale '#3 (Rhubarb)', unfolds with delicate piano, evoking a sense of tranquil introspection.
Born in Montpellier where he studied classical piano at the Conservatory, in 2005, Dumont achieved the highest distinctions in piano and chamber music. With a broadening interest in jazz and improvised music, he moved to Brussels in 2008 and after studying in the Jazz sections at the Royal Conservatory of Brussels then at the Koninklijk Conservatorium van Brussel, he obtained his master's degree in 2013. In recent years, he has played an integral part of the critically acclaimed four-piece 'ECHT!' which breaks the boundaries between jazz, electronic music and hip-hop. In addition, Dumont also participates in numerous other projects across various genres including 'Edges' with Guillaume Vierset, Jim Black, and Anders Christensen or 'Easy Pieces' with Ben Sauzereau and Hendrik Lasure. He also collaborates with bands including Juicy, Vaague, Kuna Maze, and Pol Belardi's Force, among others.


[a] A1. 180db_ [130]


[d] A4. PAPAT4 [155][pineal mix]

Three years on from the desolate beauty of their debut, Quindi Records is proud to present the second album from Dead Bandit. The ghosts of their past endeavours still haunt their guitars, but on Memory Thirteen the duo's delicately dishevelled Southern gothic feels tonally distinct from their prior outing.
Dead Bandit is Ellis Swan and James Schimpl - the former a noted solo singer-songwriter from Chicago with a penchant for eerie, witching hour murder ballads and the latter an accomplished Canadian multi-instrumentalist with a bias towards heartworn, roaming soundscapes. Their instrumental collaboration has an open, lyrical quality which says as much as any spoken line, and on this album they've especially embraced the power of contrast as we're guided between scenes, sometimes within the confines of one track.
'Peel Me An Orange' is especially instructive in this regard, beginning as a blown-out paean to sonic degradation and the acute sense of hopelessness it projects, only to yield to a lilting tape loop of twanging guitar before entirely widening out in an emphatic burst of post-rock optimism.
Post-rock isn't noted for its banal cheeriness as a genre, and Dead Bandit aren't about to lay down feel-good drive-time anthems, but the sense of pulling at extremes of energy and introspection show Swan and Schimpl to be testing the emotional limits of their weatherbeaten sound. The cautiously sentimental mood of 'Blowing Kisses' hints at the hard-won light which can be encountered while pointedly driving into darkness.
Sometimes noise is a subtle device - a looming bed of unease under the forthright pluck of Swan's distinct guitar tone or the cracking round the edges of a beaten up drum machine. On 'Memory Thirteen' the distortion on the bass becomes a central figure in its haggard waltz, while 'Staircase' and 'Perfume' leave the signal wet until the delay feedback becomes the body of the riff. Either way, the sound is never left untouched as Swan and Schimpl grow more comfortable in their exchange, blurring their respective sonic languages as they expand their shared vocabulary to create an album of depth, difference and devoted distortion.

What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley

What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley

Sasu Ripatti's complete "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Bathed in a green haze, the crowd oozed to the mutant rock and roll roaring from the basement's dusty depths — everything and everyone was sweaty and sticky. But as Speedy Ortiz crammed into the back corner, their grins just inches away from ours, D.C.’s Dougout became a moshed-and-sloshed sauna of 20-somethings delirious on rock euphoria.

After spending much of the new millennium bored out of my skull by network soap indie, Speedy Ortiz — not to mention its pals in Pile, Ovlov, Grass is Green and the rest of New England’s burgeoning basement scene — was rock's wild howl. The songs were unpredictable, yet weirdly memorable, swaggering with a winky and wry sense of self. Riffs would twist with a topsy tenderness, then slam a ruptured discord. Sadie Dupuis' sphinxian-yet-sensitive lyrics were not only matched but accentuated by her coil-sprung vibrato. How could Speedy Ortiz not immediately become my new favorite band?

What began as a short-lived solo project recorded in Dupuis' off-hours as a rock camp counselor became a four-piece band in Northampton, Mass., by the end of 2011: Dupuis on guitar and vocals with drummer Mike Falcone, bassist Darl Ferm and guitarist Matt Robidoux. They made cool mixtapes, cracked inside jokes and gushed about teenagers that opened for them on tour. They freaked out (via LiveJournal) when they met the bassist from Polvo or Helium's Mary Timony, but also rolled their eyes at '90s indie-rock comparisons. The band's first single — the gender-bending got-laid grunge yowler "Taylor Swift'' — elicited that rare response of the simultaneous giggle and headbang. The Sports EP amped up the taut yet rubbery riffery.

Released July 9, 2013, Major Arcana is filled with wedding chapel exorcisms, oiled-down attractants and criminally twisted puny little villains — this is Dupuis' haunted lexicon as she scales the toxic Aggro Crag of a breakup. And while Dupuis wrote these songs, the band's convulsing arrangements and diverse influences sprawled the squigglier edges of feedbacked fuzz to mete out matters of the heart. Falcone — who, it's worth noting, has a knack for vocal harmony — swung as much as he smashed the drums. In easily tipoverable songs, Ferm's burly bass and percussive overdubs gave the unruly glee its momentum. Robidoux ripped skronky guitar solos and countered Dupuis' riffs with decorative splatter. Over a four-day marathon session at Sonelab in Easthampton, recording engineer Justin Pizzoferrato sparked the studio imagination of Speedy Ortiz — not only leaning into gritty tones but layer-caking dense dynamics that made these songs pop and pulverize.

For all her sweet-toothed seething, Dupuis was not easy on herself. Everyone's allowed the idiot growing pains of your 20s and the misery that follows, but I can only imagine the emotional exhaustion that playing these songs on the road, night after night, must have wrought. "But you left something on my lips: a mark so sick," she repeats over the doomy destruction that ends the album. Thinking back to the many Speedy Ortiz shows I caught in those early years, including an unofficial after-after party for my own wedding, "MKVI" often served as the noisy down-and-out closer — heads would bang in solidarity as the crowd became co-authors in the chaos, the biting phrase now a hex, Speedy Ortiz forever our coven. —Lars Gotrich

To celebrate the 10th Anniversary of Major Arcana, Speedy Ortiz release a remastered edition on Carpark Records.

Formed by Monster Magnet’s John McBain and Soundgarden’s Matt Cameron & Ben Shepherd in 1993 during some downtime from their day jobs and side project Hater (who released a self-titled album in 1993), Wellwater Conspiracy set about immersing themselves in the dayglo world of sixties psychedelia, channelling the vibrations of Syd Barrett’s Pink Floyd and the 13th Floor Elevators to produce the garage lo-fi-lysergic assault on the senses that is their debut album ‘Declaration of Conformity’. Originally issued on Mudhoney’s Steve Turners Super Electro label in 1997, the album was met with critical acclaim upon its release, and Rolling Stone magazine said, “Declaration’s tinny, fuzzed-out sonics decidedly evoke the Summer of Love.” God Unknown Records are proud to be welcoming the album back into print and on all digital platforms, and this coming September 22nd will see the release of a remastered vinyl pressing with extra tracks and new artwork taking influence from Blue Note Records’ fabled artwork. From start to finish, ‘Declaration Of Conformity’ is a loving homage to the true beginnings of psychedelic rock, long before the music got harder and heavier. Songs like ‘Green Undertow’ and ‘Sleeveless’ hark back to the time when The Beatles were spinning the world on its axis with ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’, Syd Barrett was the piper at the gates of dawn and Roky Erickson was introducing the world to his Texan psychedelic sounds. Wellwater Conspiracy’s music exists at that moment when pop music started to fracture and go far further out. It was still pop music, but the edges were starting to blur and the sounds were starting to fracture. This is where ‘Declaration of Conformity’ sits; at the dawn of one of the biggest cultural shifts in musical history. The Bandcamp link will also feature two bonus download-only tracks, a cover of ‘Akka Ragga’ by Shocking Blue and ‘Late Night’ by Syd Barrett. Both tracks feature Josh Homme on guitar and bass. Tracklisting A1 Sleeveless A2 You Do You A3 Trowerchord A4 Green Undertow A5 I Love You Every Day Sandy A6 Nati Bati Yi A7 Far Side Of Your Moon B1 The Ending B2 Space Travel In The Blink Of An Eye B3 6-6-5-4-3-2-1 B4 Shel Talmy B5 Lucy Leave B6 Declaration Of Conformity B7 Palomar Observatory

2023 Repress

CELESTE have been breaking the outer boundaries of heavy music for over fifteen years. When they first evolved from the Lyon hardcore punk scene, they were absolutely brutal and entirely unique, delivering extremity on their own terms that they pushed further and further with each successive album. “We just wanted to get darker and more violent,” says drummer Antoine Royer, until 2017’s Infidèle(s) saw the incorporation of a more melodic streak. Their most focussed record yet, it was tremendously received, critically adored, and backed with the band’s biggest shows to date.

Its follow-up was always going to be something radical. Even by their own inordinately high standards, however, new record Assassine(s) is one hell of a step forward. Even if this album still contains cyclonic walls of guitar, of battering rhythm, and passages of blissful, rushing release. it’s unlike anything the band have ever released; embracing a modern and forward-thinking production, they're just as complex but more direct, diverse and accessible than before. “Our leitmotif here was to open our minds,” says guitarist Sébastien Ducotté. “We made a real effort to think outside of our box.”

During lockdown CELESTE’s members were forced to each write individually. “We each went further into our personal, inner views of what the songs were,” says bassist and vocalist Johan Girardeau. When eventually they began sessions under producer Chris Edrich, it was gruelling. “We ended up exhausted, physically and mentally” says Johan. “There was no break in two weeks. We didn’t see the sun at all during that time. Every night we were so tired that we didn’t enjoy being together as much as we’re used to.” Nevertheless, in the same way the hardships of isolation led to richer and more complex songwriting, it’s that relentlessness that led to the record’s razor-sharp edges.

Above all else, CELESTE are innovators. Whether by pioneering French avant-garde metal when they formed at the turn of the millennium, by making their boldest leaps despite being seven albums deep into their career, or using two years away from live shows to tightly finetune their stagecraft, they refuse at all costs to rest on their laurels. There can be consequences to this instinct – fans of the band’s older work might be thrown off by their constant shifts of pace – but they’re throwing caution to the wind. A bit of backlash “would be a good thing, because it would mean that we’ve really changed,” says Guillaume . “It's not disrespectful, it's just that we never made music to please people, but just to enjoy what we're doing.” In the end, CELESTE are a band so forward-thinking that they can only be judged on the strength of their latest work. And when it comes to a record as bold as Assassine(s), they’ve hit a whole new peak entirely.

In 1983 there came a sound from the depths of the Brazilian rainforest that was primal, ground-breaking, and completely ahead of its time. The roaring of amplifiers and the beating of drums was the sound of Max and Iggor Cavalera creating their debut cult-classics 'MORBID VISIONS' and 'BESTIAL DEVASTATION', and now it seems that after many years, the Cavalera brothers will be returning to their raw upstarts with a full re-recording of these beloved yet obscure albums.
When 'MORBID VISIONS' and 'BESTIAL DEVASTATION" were first spawned it was done in ramshackle conditions in Belo Horizonte, where the duo grew up. Max and Iggor were 14 and 13 years old during the original recording, and they had all the tenacity and energy of a pack of wild dogs. Only, their sound was not quite refined at that time, their adolescence bled through on those early records. It is well known that Max's guitars were completely out of tune on those sessions, and Iggor's drums often swung around tempos crazily. There's an air of youth and passion that could only be achieved by two teenagers that wanted to shock the world. Four decades later and it is plain to see that they certainly did gather the world's attention.
Despite the production being rough around the edges and the band still carving out their direction, there was a noticeable level of craftsmanship to the song structures and a clear indication that given their desire to thrash like maniacs, these kids from Brazil were going to tear the place up night after night. These albums still hold a dark, mystic and at times eerie quality to them that many have come to love over the years. For some, the music does not have to be delivered with perfect technical precision, the spastic live delivery is something to be cherished, and even with their guitars out of tune, they played like the gates of hell were opening. The crossroads of a shamanistic spiritual summoning at a back-alley metal show in downtown Belo Horizonte.
It is a task of heavy magnitude to try and cross the gap between the accomplished artists that they are today to the scrappy boys that they were when they first wrote these songs, but the duo have executed the performances flawlessly. The perfect bridge between the unbridled energy of the original sessions and the high-quality sound of a 21st century production. It is truly astounding to hear Max once again growl like a monster during "Troops Of Doom" and riff at insane speeds through "War" and "Crucifixion". Iggor's barbaric drumming on "Anti-Christ" is like the galloping hooves of a death-rider. Accompanied by bassist Igor Amadeus Cavalera (HEALING MAGIC, GO AHEAD AND DIE) and lead guitarist Daniel Gonzales (POSSESSED, GRUESOME) the quartet is a force to be reckoned with.
How this re-recording attained such a familiar tenacity is almost a mystery, like some spell that brought these albums back from the grave. Within the first few beats you can hear that the Cavalera’s have lost no momentum, attacking the songs at maximum speed and ferocity. In fact, it seems that the brothers have only empowered their connection through music over the decades. You can feel the spark that those two create, a dynamic sound rich with subtleties and ear-grabbing hooks. As Iggor counts in each song with his drumsticks, and Max's guitar feedbacks loudly as he approaches the microphone, there is palpable apprehension. It is apparent that when these two icons get together to play, they are going to electrify the room with their presence.
Few have had the incredible careers that Max and Iggor have achieved through their music. Even fewer had faith in the young boys that wrote 'MORBID VISIONS' and "BESTIAL DEVASTATION' all those years ago. Yet here they still stand ripping through their earliest works with decades of experience under their belts. For them, it is a breath of fresh air to finally give these songs the desired production that they deserve. They both feel that the fans also deserve a fresh look at these albums, a chance to appreciate them in a completely new light.
From start to finish 'MORBID VISIONS" and "BESTIAL DEVASTATION" are a torrential whirlwind of riffs, beats, and screams. A blast from the past that is sure to take every last listener back to the raucous live shows of the eighties.
Mysterious clouds form above an old cathedral, the summoning of dark magic is upon us, and the troops of doom march forth to announce the arrival of 'CAVALERA'!

Born of a thousand nights lost in a surrender to stillness and contemplation, In The Air is Anna St. Louis’ second full length album and her most considered work yet. St. Louis’ debut If Only There Was a River seemed to emerge fully formed out of the recesses of her mind; a gritty, mesmerizing affair, filled with jagged edges and ghostly apparitions. The type of record that announces a new voice; one haunted by what has come before.

But this time, St. Louis is no longer concerned with what could have been and sets her sights to exploring what could be. It’s an outlook on the world that was formed when her immediate one was small. The intervening years since her last album found St. Louis in a small one-bedroom cabin in the middle of the woods of upstate New York with a new love and time to think of what she wanted to express with her music. For weeks on end, the only trips she took were to and from her job as the front desk clerk at a nearby hotel. The previous years she had spent on tour and performing constantly in the venues of Los Angeles felt like they had occurred in another lifetime.

“It really compelled me to surrender to the unknown,” she says. And in this surrender, she found liberation. St. Louis is more self-assured, open-hearted and ready to say what she wants. St. Louis describes the writing period as one of a slow harvest; a fertile time but one that required a newfound patience. Instead of documenting her first thoughts, she spent more time with each song, going deeper with the themes and ideas she wanted to express.

This slower approach also guided the sonic textures of the album. Working with producer Jarvis Taveniere (Purple Mountains, Woods) in two extended recording sessions in Los Angeles in 2021, St. Louis used the studio in a previously unexplored way, opening up her songs to more experimentation featuring brighter tones and a more orchestral sound to accompany her new perspective. To that end, she was aided by a cast of friends and collaborators including Jess Williamson, Kacey Johansing, Oliver Hill (Kevin Morby, Vagabon) on strings, Alex Fischel (Spoon) on piano, Josh Adams on drums (Bedouine, Tim Heidecker) and Keven Lareau (Cut Worms, Hand Habits).

In the Air has the sound of a joyous consideration of the present moment; a quiet morning revealing a new snowfall outside, steam coming from the kettle, just before it whistles, St. Louis with her guitar, staring out the window, with a few free hours before work. She’s reflecting on the scene in front of her, imagining the times yet to come. You can hear it; she’s a long way from the noisy bars of Los Angeles, the rigors of the road. As she intones in “Rest”: “You spend your whole life believing in the chase. And then you realize that being somewhere doesn’t matter like it used to.” She doesn’t need a river to carry her anymore ... She’s in the air.

Svitlana Nianio has been active in the Ukrainian and Polish underground music scenes since the early '90's both as a solo artist and a prominent member of the now disbanded avant-rock outfit Cukor Bila Smert (Sugar White Death). Her music draws on aspects of modern composition and traditional Slavic music, with songs and experiments from that early period culiminating in the 1999 album Kytytsi (Koka Records, Poland). Prior to that in 1995, Nianio recorded Lisova Kolekciya (Forest Collection) live in a simple home studio setting with Olexander Yurchenko and Konstantin Nazarenko.

Less indebted to folk tradition than Kytytsi, Lisova Kolekciya was performed using Casio keyboards, electronics, and voice, positioning itself more inline with Terry Riley's Shri Camel in its otherworldly reinterpretation of the ancient through modern means. Retaining aspects of traditionl music in its use of spare instrumentation and haunting vocal melodies, this largely unknown album pushes at the edges of what folk music might be, resulting in music previously described as being "deeply rooted in primeval myths, creating a world of magic realism, in which the temporal dimension and the other world constantly move and permeate."

Issued here officially for the first time after an extremely limited private cassette edition handed out to friends in 1996 - where the recording was twinned with the album Znayesh Yak Rozkazhi (Know How Tell Me) - Lisova Kolekciya comes packaged in a full colour offset printed sleeve featuring artwork by Svitlana Nianio and is limited to 300 copies. 100 copies are housed in a special edition sleeve handmade by Faraway Press and are only available to order direct from the label.

The Valley and the Mountain aka TVTM aka Josh Dahlberg makes a bold return with 'A Number of Northwests', an EP which tells the tale of an artist in transition. Quite literally, that is, as he moved from Detroit's westside to the very far edges of the Pacific Northwest. Musical this is a stylistically diverse offering with four cuts starting with the mid-tempo smooth grooves of 'Bretton Drive' and glistening synths and pads of the cosmically minded 'Grand River Slide'. The chugging 'Ramps to Nowhere' is a dubbed out afters classic and then the one and only dusty deep house don DJ Aakmael remixes it into another cuddly classic.

Trey Gruber's posthumous debut double LP Herculean House of Cards. A compilation of early demos, studio demos, and live recordings. A tortured songwriter and struggling addict who jolted the tired Chicago DIY scene with his own brand of primal despair, Trey Gruber and his band Parent were on track to join the ranks of Twin Peaks, Mild High Club, and Whitney. His death in 2017 at the age of 26 brought it all to a halt. In his final years Trey wrote and recorded hundreds of previously unheard demos, dandelions in the cracked concrete of 21st century disconnect, an alphabet's worth of which have been compiled by his family and friends for his only album: Herculean House Of Cards. The 26-song 2xLP covers years of material, from home tape recordings, sessions at Mathew Roberts (Mild High Club) & Paul Cherry's home studio, to a studio session with Charles Glanders (Whitney) at Chicago's Foxhall Studios, along with audio taken at The Hideout during his last live performance, among others. Though Gruber was an unrelenting perfectionist who was constantly self-deprecating about his best demos, Herculean House of Cards is a wholly comprehensive and accurate reflection of his infectious charisma and raw songwriting. He had a charmingly distinct way with words but also could be disarmingly vulnerable. Like he was in life, Gruber never shied away from being open with his struggles with alcoholism and addiction. On the vivid opener "Eisenhower to the West Side," he sings in painstaking detail of, "A jail-skin cell, a junkies fight/Corner-boys full of grace/And Jesus Christ full of spite." He told then-future bandmate flautist Rebecca Ridge, "It's not some Lou Reed glorification of drugs _ `makes me feel like a man'_ I talk about the disconnect and the ugliness. They're sad pop songs." But even with the pain and the darkness in his lyrics, Gruber's songs had an unmistakable sense of hope and catharsis.

Trey Gruber's posthumous debut double LP Herculean House of Cards. A compilation of early demos, studio demos, and live recordings. A tortured songwriter and struggling addict who jolted the tired Chicago DIY scene with his own brand of primal despair, Trey Gruber and his band Parent were on track to join the ranks of Twin Peaks, Mild High Club, and Whitney. His death in 2017 at the age of 26 brought it all to a halt. In his final years Trey wrote and recorded hundreds of previously unheard demos, dandelions in the cracked concrete of 21st century disconnect, an alphabet's worth of which have been compiled by his family and friends for his only album: Herculean House Of Cards. The 26-song 2xLP covers years of material, from home tape recordings, sessions at Mathew Roberts (Mild High Club) & Paul Cherry's home studio, to a studio session with Charles Glanders (Whitney) at Chicago's Foxhall Studios, along with audio taken at The Hideout during his last live performance, among others. Though Gruber was an unrelenting perfectionist who was constantly self-deprecating about his best demos, Herculean House of Cards is a wholly comprehensive and accurate reflection of his infectious charisma and raw songwriting. He had a charmingly distinct way with words but also could be disarmingly vulnerable. Like he was in life, Gruber never shied away from being open with his struggles with alcoholism and addiction. On the vivid opener "Eisenhower to the West Side," he sings in painstaking detail of, "A jail-skin cell, a junkies fight/Corner-boys full of grace/And Jesus Christ full of spite." He told then-future bandmate flautist Rebecca Ridge, "It's not some Lou Reed glorification of drugs _ `makes me feel like a man'_ I talk about the disconnect and the ugliness. They're sad pop songs." But even with the pain and the darkness in his lyrics, Gruber's songs had an unmistakable sense of hope and catharsis.

Following in the footsteps of "Mind Palace" and "Lost Spirits", respectively issued in 2018 and 2021, Hidden Empire return to Stil vor Talent with their eagerly anticipated third studio full-length, "Momentum". Going the same route that came to define their sound throughout the years, Branko Novakovic and Niklas Schäfers cook a savvy mix of deep electroid flavours and prog techno magnitude which flourishes in the long-playing format. Orbiting the frontier between proper no-nonsense, floor-focussed effectiveness and a trademark exploratory take on electronics, Hidden Empire here delivers one of their most accomplished slices to date, which not only spans the largest span of their many-faceted influences, from tribal anchorage to hypermodern escapology, but breathes a truly epic wind into it.

Draped in luscious, silken envelopes and easternmost ambiences, "Dawn" gets the ball rolling on a mystique-imbued note, halfway meditation-friendly material and square-shouldered club busting wares. Moving into Afro-infused house grounds, "Modesty" finds Branko and Niklas heading for the deeper end of the spectrum, as they pull out a clinically precise blender of rattling percussions, opaque incantations, lush synth swashes and verbed-out machine talk, tailored for nightly boogie rituals in the forest. "Avalanche" opts for a more brooding, deadlier approach. Cutting its path away from prying eyes, this one finds Hidden Empire pulling the stealth weaponry to absolute hypnotic effect - perfect for serious in-between peak time business with its thick, thriller-like tension, mist-shrouded atmosphere and surgical focus. Featuring Felix Raphael on vocals, "Who We Are", is a pop-influenced chugger that perhaps best defines Hidden Empire's ambivalent style, both hi-NRG and innervated with a melancholy that infuses down to the bass and most functional elements. Geared up for big-room traction with its seesawing synths and clinical drumwork, Raphael's moving timbre does more than offer a sensible counterpoint to the track's overall sturdy backbone, it takes it to a whole other dimension completely.

"Repeat The Good" ft. Wolfson balances out a fast-ticking groove with those subtle melodic lines Hidden Empire champion to astounding vibrancy, offering a particularly satisfying glimpse into their vortical imaginarium, whereas "Last Call" has us journeying to straight out Moroder-esque territories, flush with the aptly configured palette of fuzzy space disco bass, fast-paced Italo churn and vocodized talk for good measure. All in breaks and chopped-up euphoria, "Vivid" runs the hoodoo down in muscular fashion and with impressive levels of energy throughout, all set at cranking up the heat one notch further, while "Rebel" provides us with the kind of rough-around-the-edges EBM horsepower and neon-clad synth engineering that'll get the basement in a state of alert. Encompassing all of the pair's idiosyncratic merger of styles - from pop-laced Italo to spaced-out techno wares, through jagged motorik and heavily mecched-out jacking house, "Alright" shows off Hidden Empire's wide arsenal of pyrotechnics under the most compelling of lights. A more openly jagged and quirky weapon that hatches into a full-fledged solar number around the half, "Momentum" roars up the club's highway at full throttle, proving a formidable asset when it comes to plunging dancers into a state of weird, left-of-centre euphoria.

A stroboscopic eclipse is predicted as "Dark Sun" enters the room, deploying its obscure wingspan over the ravers, not quite a bad omen as it lets more light in with every bar, its brittle piano lines and heart-wrenching vocals cutting a path into the crowd's pulsating hearts. Graceful as Hidden Empire's music can be, a moment of utter exhilarating beauty. "Savasana" wraps up the voyage with a pure slab of cyphered 4x4 seduction, as an ASMR-like voice guides us across the soul-questioning haze that blankets our pathway onto a luminous finale. A piece of elusive nature, clearly designed for the club and yet telling a tale of off-piste initiation through twelve fascinating movements, "Momentum" will undoubtedly etch on the listeners' mind as one of the German pair's most strikingly powerful emanations.

Download:
1. Hidden Empire - Dawn Interlude
2. Hidden Empire - Modesty
3. Hidden Empire - Avalanche
4. Hidden Empire & Felix Raphael - Who We Are
5. Hidden Empire & Wolfson - Repeat the Good
6. Hidden Empire - Last Call
7. Hidden Empire - Vivid
8. Hidden Empire - Rebel
9. Hidden Empire - Alright
10. Hidden Empire - Momentum
11. Hidden Empire - Dark Sun
12. Hidden Empire - Savasana
13. Hidden Empire & Felix Raphael - Who We Are (Instrumental)