quête:only human

With their third album, Inanimate Objects of the 21st Century, Newcastle’s The Pale White prove once again that there’s no slowing them down. Following the success of their introspective sophomore album The Big Sad, brothers Adam (vocals/guitar) and Jack Hope (drums) return louder, sharper, and more defiant than ever. This third full-length is their most expansive yet: a record that blends the anthemic punch of classic rock with the urgency and edge of modern alternative.The title, Inanimate Objects of the 21st Century, is a nudge to the uncomfortable irony of our time – as technology accelerates, humanity feels increasingly frozen in place. Lead singer Adam Hope says: “Technology is moving, but we are not. Human civilization entered the 21st century wide-eyed and naive with mobile phones that would barely fit in our pockets. Fast forward a few decades and we’re so far from where we were that it almost looks like a bad 80’s sci-fi movie. Back then, that film would be watched in packed-out cinemas after an eagerly anticipated release, but now they stand emptier than they once were, attended mainly as a nostalgic experience in the age of Netflix and doomscrolling.

The birth of AI, algorithms, cryptocurrency, drones, holographic concerts, autonomous cars… we’re living in a strange transitional period which is both fascinating and terrifying in equal measure. We humans have now in fact become the inanimate objects - mannequins.After our softer, melancholic second album ‘The Big Sad’, we felt it was only right to move as fast as our world is moving and release our next within the year. ‘Inanimate Objects of the 21st Century’ is the evil twin, the Yin to The Big Sad’s Yang.”

ESCAPE-ISM — the found-sound dreamdrama— are back in action & out in front. And this time, they’re leading a “Charge of the Love Brigade. ”This “charge” isn’t the traditional scramble across a muddy, bloody field though, like in the days of yore. This one is a furtive insinuation into the senses of the tuned-in listener.
Their fifth record, and fourth “sound” record — (the third one was “A Protest Against Sound”- an entirely silent LP) — “Charge of the Love Brigade” is revolutionary in its own right. Besides being packed with tunes — super-hits such as “Black Gold,” “Last Of The Sellouts,” “The Rebel Outlaw,” & “Fire in Malibu,” for exam- ple, Charge of the Love Brigade proposes a reformation of the traditional notes and scales; an entire new sound alphabet!
That’s right, ESCAPE-ISM —the “act of musical vandalism”— famous for their development of new prototypes for stomping & smashing, are reforming the scales, chords, & notes (e.g. A, B, F#, etc) that comprise musical literacy to achieve the group’s primary aim: the repurposing of music as we know it. Though many musicians of note have operated their instruments with "alternative tunings," up until now no one has obliterated tuning absolutely or abolished letter-notes for the destruction of bourgeois society.
According to ESCAPE-ISM, this will have a very profound effect: “Music will no longer be cordoned off from the rest of experience as a commodified, specialty freak show, but instead be a pastime which can be prac- ticed and enjoyed –not only by non-musicians and amateurs– but also by plant life, wild animals, and even inanimate objects such as rocks.
“The violent overthrow of musical conventions will lead to the reintegration of humanity into the natural order, the reordering of life itself into a cosmic congruity. This means the convention of time itself will be ended.” Like so-called nature itself, the ESCAPE-ISM group is also on a “loop.”
Play “Charge of the Love Brigade” and listen as ESCAPE-ISM go “over the top” against the note-letters of accepted musicality in a world premiere of a new upside-down antiscale.

Yamila presents her second album on Umor Rex, Noor. Following Visions, Yamila returns with a work that merges nature-experience listening with expansive musicality. Noor was born from her time in an ecologist community, where she sought refuge in stillness, learned from animals, and tried to forget the human. In this communion with nature, she discovered a new compositional approach: reducing acoustic noise to allow unheard voices to emerge, transforming music into a possibility for interspecies dialogue.

Since ancient times, sound has been used to care for herds, to call across distances, to communicate with the non-human. Noor reimagines that ancestral role in a contemporary language, where epic harmonies collide with delicate micro-tonalities, and where rhythm unfolds not only as pulse but as movement for the body, a natural extension of Yamila’s work with dance companies and choreographers.

Her voice is interwoven with electronics and the resonant strings of Echo Collective, creating sonic landscapes that radiate intensity and fragility. At times monumental, at others almost whispered, Noor oscillates between composition and spontaneity, structure and suspension.

The album unfurls as a dialogue between the organic and the artificial, where sound grows like a sprout breaking through hard soil. Yamila’s music here is not only to be heard, but to be inhabited: a choreography of air, vibration, and resonance. Noor is both shelter and revelation, a reminder that music can still be epic, luminous, and deeply human, while listening beyond the human.

All music and voices by Yamila Ríos. Recorded at Destelheide by Christophe Albertijn. Strings by Trio Echo Collective (Violin: Margaret Hermant, Viola: Neil Leiter), (Cello: Stijn Kuppens), (Arrangements: Pierre Slinckx). Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY. Photos by Assiah Alcázar. Design & layout by Daniel Castrejón.

Narthex means railed-off western portico or ante-nave in earty Christian churches for women, penitents and catechumens.

Narthex is also a trio featuring (at the beginning) Daniel Denis (Universe Zero, Art Zoyd), Alain Neffe (Pseudocode, Human Flesh, Bene Gesserit) and Nicolas de Villemarqué (Nuwage Music). They had a very different musical background, mostly electric-electronic rock, and decided to work in the field of acoustic music recorded live (two microphones + portable DAT) in churches of their area. After several recording sessions, Nicolas de Villemarqué decides to leave the group. ln order to complete the trio, Daniel Denis and Alain Neffe ask the participation of some of their friends. Anna Homler, Michel Berckmans and Daniel Malempré have accepted the challenge and succeed to fit into their musical universe.

The instruments Church organ, harmonium, sitar, saxophone, oboe, bassoon, zither, valiha, senzas, tarang, voice, percussions, metal clarinet, classical guitar, mew's harp, ongolok, violin, dulcimer, mouth organ, etc.

The music Often dark, sometimes repetitive or experimental, sometimes rhythmical and exotic, always based on emotion inducted by the sound. One could define it as dark age music (as opposite to new age music), a sort of minimal come back to the roots and purity of acoustic sound without the cultural background linked to the 'academic' use of some instruments (for example African senzas are transformed and tuned to sound like Indonesian instruments, sitar or harmonium are used as rhythmical instruments, vahilla is played with a bow).

The places Churches located in an area of 20 kms in the region where Daniel Denis and Alain Neffe live for years and where they feel at home (and feel the vibrations. Every church, place emotionally loaded, has its own specific resonance and sound structure. Every church gave to the musicians a particular inspiration and fill the sound of the instruments with a natural reverberation/echo. The place but also the moment is important. They had the privilege to be allowed to record in the Ecaussines church at night lightened only by candles. lt was one of their most productive recording sessions.

Blood continues to flow. The third statement of Qwälen. Rottenness of our human reality, the abolition of our kings and gods, the normatively sinister path of brotherly violence. For Qwälen all of them mean nothing and yet all are everything. With the very idea of black metal in its core, the band continues breaking free from the narrow-minded boundaries of the genre. Glorify no one but thyself. Raise no one on a pedestal but thyself and borders can only be drawn by the ones within. Gods are only alive if we let them. Death is the final insult. The final middle finger when all is reduced to rocks and bones. The black serpent from within. The black flame of rebellion. Hail Satan. Blood continues to flow.

Ltd. green vinyl. Blood continues to flow. The third statement of Qwälen. Rottenness of our human reality, the abolition of our kings and gods, the normatively sinister path of brotherly violence. For Qwälen all of them mean nothing and yet all are everything. With the very idea of black metal in its core, the band continues breaking free from the narrow-minded boundaries of the genre. Glorify no one but thyself. Raise no one on a pedestal but thyself and borders can only be drawn by the ones within. Gods are only alive if we let them. Death is the final insult. The final middle finger when all is reduced to rocks and bones. The black serpent from within. The black flame of rebellion. Hail Satan. Blood continues to flow.

Ltd. marbled vinyl. Blood continues to flow. The third statement of Qwälen. Rottenness of our human reality, the abolition of our kings and gods, the normatively sinister path of brotherly violence. For Qwälen all of them mean nothing and yet all are everything. With the very idea of black metal in its core, the band continues breaking free from the narrow-minded boundaries of the genre. Glorify no one but thyself. Raise no one on a pedestal but thyself and borders can only be drawn by the ones within. Gods are only alive if we let them. Death is the final insult. The final middle finger when all is reduced to rocks and bones. The black serpent from within. The black flame of rebellion. Hail Satan. Blood continues to flow.

In the pantheon of classic free jazz, Noah Howard's The Black Ark looms large. Recorded at Bell Sound Studios in New York City in 1969 – just prior to the alto saxophonist's relocation to Europe – the album was eventually released in 1972.

The Black Ark exhibits not only the power and imagination of Howard's playing, but also his breadth as a composer and bandleader. Listeners expecting unrelenting blasts of "energy music" might be surprised to find a cohesion atypical of free jazz; amidst the wild, impassioned solos, Howard weaves in Latin rhythms and fat-bottomed grooves.

The first side, consisting of "Domiabra" and “Ole Negro,” sets the album's tone. Both tracks sound as if they could have appeared on some of Blue Note's proto-spiritual jazz, groove-heavy releases – evoking the likes of Lou Donaldson or Horace Silver – before ceding the floor to the horn players' anarchic firepower.

As John Corbett writes in the liner notes, "Two players stand out. Bassist Norris Jones – who would soon consolidate his name into a one-word reversed amalgamation/permutation of the two, Sirone – is given ample room, largely unaccompanied; his corporal approach foreshadows later work with the Revolutionary Ensemble. But the secret weapon on The Black Ark is Arthur Doyle. Straight from basement rehearsal sessions with Milford Graves, whose ensemble he had joined and who remained a favorite of the drummer for decades, Doyle is a human flamethrower."

Trumpeter Earl Cross' guttural, vocal effects complement Doyle's take-no-prisoners approach, while the estimable combination of Muhammad Ali (Rashied's brother) on drums and Juma Sultan on congas adds an ever-shifting propulsion. The septet is rounded out by the enigmatic pianist Leslie Waldron, who anchors the group with imaginative accompaniment and occasional boppish flourishes.

Every bit worthy of its reputation as an "out-jazz" holy grail, The Black Ark only sounds better with age. It remains the ideal record to convert the remaining free-jazz skeptics.

Michel Houellebecq is, of course, well-known for his novels, translated into more than 40 languages, and his Goncourt Prize (The Map and the Territory, 2010), but perhaps less so for his debut album, released exactly a quarter of a century ago on Tricatel label. One can sense the influence of Serge Gainsbourg's L'Homme à la Tête de Chou, a disillusioned Procol Harum and a world-weary Burt Bacharach hovering over Houellebecq's poems in Présence Humaine, a now cult classic album orchestrated by Bertrand Burgalat and the musicians of Eiffel. Twelve thousand copies sold and a few concerts later, the writer decided (or so we thought) to bid farewell to the stage, only to generate more media attention though his literary success. Frédéric Lo is, of course, known as an exceptional lyricist, composer, arranger, and producer, author of a sublime fourth solo album (L'Outrebleu, released last March) and a master of collaborative work, notably with Bill Pritchard, Peter Doherty and Daniel Darc. Initially, Michel Houellebecq and Frédéric Lo met for the tribute album that the latter was planning for the tenth anniversary of Daniel Darc's death, but their recording of "Psalm XXIII" was, to their great disappointment, rejected by the label and therefore did not appear on the final version of Cœur Sacré (2023). Fortunately, every cloud has a silver lining, and the two men decided to take their collaboration a step further. Lo decided to set the writer's words to music, in his studio in Pantin. Raw, stripped-down music draped in electronica, adorned with piano and antediluvian drum machines, often minimalist, sometimes repetitive, provides the perfect backdrop for twelve tracks that question and reflect on humanity's past and future (if indeed there is one). Reflections on the human condition, 21st-century style, a work of speculative fiction conceived by two eternally modern "young lads," Souvenez-Vous de l'Homme (Remember Man) is an album that might occasionally evoke The Stranglers' La Folie, and, given the title, that's probably no coincidence. But above all, it's a hypnotic and melancholic album, uncompromising and captivating. Most importantly, it's an album like no other.

Just when you thought Kevin Richard Martin's music couldn’t go any slower, lower or deeper, Sub Zero emerges. A slow-motion excavation of drug-tech, dub, dreamy noise and frozen ambience, the album gradually mutates into hypnotic pulsations and melodic melancholia. It is arguably Martin’s most striking release to date under his given name.


Originally released digitally on Bandcamp only in the depths of winter 2022, amid the final year of the COVID-19 pandemic and Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine, this desolate epic went on to become KRM's best-selling digital album on the platform. With persistent demand for a vinyl pressing and a full DSP release from fans, Martin thought the time was right for Sub Zero to finally surface in its full glory: remastered and paired with fresh new artwork.


Unnervingly, the album is as beautiful as it is solemn, as glacial as it is relentless, and as subtle as it is terrifying. A trip into a sonic abyss, with a tour of a philosophical void, it’s to my ears, KRM’s most seductive work yet, and also his most emotionally resonant. Martin expertly balances tear-jerking motifs with heavier than hell rhythmic weight. With its melodic fog, eternal drones and eerie atmospherics, the peripheral throb of distant kick drums, the heartbeat punctuation of cavernous subs and the snowstorm blizzard of fuzz absolutely envelopes the mind, whilst crushing the soul.


In terms of lineage, Sub Zero might recall a more paranoid Porter Ricks, a dystopian GAS, or a brutally dubbed-out Pan Sonic. Most fitting, however, is its kinship with the deepest dub terrain Martin previously explored on In Blue, The Bug’s acclaimed 2020 collaboration with Dis Fig for Hyperdub, where he obsessively probed subaqueous pulses and low-end modulations.


Sub Zero is possibly the most minimal, desolate, and deviant dub record yet released on Martin’s PRESSURE label. It marks the point at which dub disappears into its own effects trails. Dub music capturing frozen moments in time. Dub as an addictive painkiller, that sounds both sacred and ocean deep.

Mia Zapata was the greatest rock singer of her time. She may have likely been the greatest blues singer in punk rock history, the woman who married the 78 and the '78. Tragedy did not make this true. Mia Zapata made this true, and the ferocious, spring-loaded shrapnel frame that was built around her by Andy Kessler (guitar: metronomic and furious), Matt Dresdner (bass: fluid, punching, beat-addicted and melodic), and Steve Moriarty (drums: martial and explosive) - who, with Mia, combined to form The Gits - made it true. The Gits were formed at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio in mid-1986, grabbing and swapping pieces of art, thrash, noise, punk rock, classic rock, and all the sorts of magical silly and bookish jingle bells that an old-school liberal arts education handed you; for the next few years they worked on turning it all into something tough, sensitive, both brutal and kind. Andy, Matt, Mia, and Steve moved to Seattle in middish 1989, landing in a house on Capitol Hill where they (and fellow travelers) wood-shedded and rehearsed for the next few years. The Gits put out three EPs in 1990 and '91 before signing with C/Z Records and releasing their first full-length album, Frenching the Bully. Seattle quickly claimed the quartet as their own and embraced the Gits blend of ferocious fangs and soft heart, the slug/slap of the guitars, and the gorgeous, soft underbelly of the poetic emotions. These qualities not only fit in with the doe-eyed/sharp-clawed grunge ethos but earned the Gits the respect of their peers, including Nirvana, who tapped them to open a major local show in 1990. Then other stuff happened, and their frantic, confessional barbed-heart snowball began rolling up hill very, very fast; the Gits "quickly" (hah! After half a decade learning to implode and explode hearts and stomping their boots on manifold beer-softened, Marlboro-weeded wood stages!) inspired rapture, awe, and the levitation that happened when peak emotion meets peak grindage in front of amps spitting out something that sounded like the mad marriage of Bolan swagger and Dischord tension_ all fronted by a genuinely incomparable woman who held her heart in her mouth and shared it, in all its celebration and fear, without hesitation. The Gits were an angry, inflamed slinky fully in tune with and tuned by the Bessie Patti Smith of her time, truly the only singer who could summon Joplin, Poly Styrene, Sam Cooke, Iggy Pop and Ian MacKaye all in the same goddamn song. In 1993, less than four weeks after accepting an offer from Atlantic Records, Mia died. I leave it at that, because this is not about death; it's about an extraordinary life. I do not say, "You should have been there," I say, "We are lucky so many of us were, and I am so glad we have this extraordinary evidence of the power and gifts of Mia and the Gits that you now can hold in your hands." And I note that Frenching the Bully, this extraordinary testament to the soul, shock, fury and feeling of the Gits, has been long out of print on vinyl and CD, and this new edition - remastered by legendary Seattle engineer Jack Endino - joyfully rectifies that. -Tim Sommer

Hamburg is sinking into an ever-expanding landscape of fresh construction ruins born from investor fantasies, concrete monster-bridges and ghostly office spaces. But from secret basements, a Geflecht begins to grow. After the first tape by Hamburg duo Kostenfalle, now comes their second album on vinyl.

The furious electropunk of Kostenfalle has been cut into the matrix at 45 RPM. Nine
songs in the fast lane, driven by sequencers, synthesizers, drum machines, and bass guitar. Despite the electronic machinery, Kostenfalle remain fiercely dynamic, twisting and shifting through intricate structures and sudden turns. Punk and Electronic Body Music lock into a dance; without warning we’re plunged into a psychedelic riff, only to slam angrily into the next guardrail.

With alternating vocals, Christian manning the transistors, Philipp holding the bass, the lyrics emerge dark and oblique, meditating on life as a one-dimensional human and on the spaces between people. Boycott and sabotage. Explode and generate.

Yamila presents her second album on Umor Rex, Noor. Following Visions, Yamila returns with a work that merges nature-experience listening with expansive musicality. Noor was born from her time in an ecologist community, where she sought refuge in stillness, learned from animals, and tried to forget the human. In this communion with nature, she discovered a new compositional approach: reducing acoustic noise to allow unheard voices to emerge, transforming music into a possibility for interspecies dialogue.

Since ancient times, sound has been used to care for herds, to call across distances, to communicate with the non-human. Noor reimagines that ancestral role in a contemporary language, where epic harmonies collide with delicate micro-tonalities, and where rhythm unfolds not only as pulse but as movement for the body, a natural extension of Yamila’s work with dance companies and choreographers.

Her voice is interwoven with electronics and the resonant strings of Echo Collective, creating sonic landscapes that radiate intensity and fragility. At times monumental, at others almost whispered, Noor oscillates between composition and spontaneity, structure and suspension.

The album unfurls as a dialogue between the organic and the artificial, where sound grows like a sprout breaking through hard soil. Yamila’s music here is not only to be heard, but to be inhabited: a choreography of air, vibration, and resonance. Noor is both shelter and revelation, a reminder that music can still be epic, luminous, and deeply human, while listening beyond the human.

All music and voices by Yamila Ríos. Recorded at Destelheide by Christophe Albertijn. Strings by Trio Echo Collective (Violin: Margaret Hermant, Viola: Neil Leiter), (Cello: Stijn Kuppens), (Arrangements: Pierre Slinckx). Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY. Photos by Assiah Alcázar. Design & layout by Daniel Castrejón.

Directions Out Of Town is the latest and teased as (possibly) the last LP by DIY electronic abstract pop wizard Finlay Shakespeare.

Directions Out Of Town is a fierce mix of headstrong pop bangers. Fact. There is simply no one else traversing the field that Shakespeare is exploring. It can be lonely in the desert, Simon says. Lyrically, Directions Out Of Town is dealing with loss; personally, geographically, politically, culturally - a general decay of everything.

This new record is heavily inspired by structural film where the results unravel a method where metaphor is removed from the act of sound synthesis, production and mix of the tracks. Fiercely independent and brimming with integrity this is a deeply effective journey through machines of the human experience.

The track titles are telling: 'Away', 'Get', 'Direction', 'I go for a walk', etc

This is sentiment via complex synthesis wrung through patterns of pop. One also finds ways out that only turn out to be false/untrue.

"I essentially don't know where I belong any more. This record is the precursor to that."

What is ostensibly an electro pop record reveals a multitude of layers and depth as one man and his machines wrestle with the reality of this tangled matrix. If the charts had brains this would be album of the year.

Finlay Shakespeare is an electronic musician working in the UK. His fascination for synthesized sound was born out of his parents' record collection, leading him to explore the electronic music of decades past throughout his teenage years. While starting to write and record his own tracks, he also began learning analogue electronics, which led him to design and build his own equipment. To date, he has released work on Editions Mego, Superpang, and his own GOTO Records.

Un-easy listening from »anti-singer« and improviser Sofia Jernberg, a celebration of the voice in its rawest, most malleable form. Jernberg was born in Ethiopia and grew up in Vietnam and Sweden, so one can only imagine these diverse languages opened up a wealth of phonetic possibilities before she entered academia to study jazz and composition. If you dive into her catalogue you’ll clock her startling range – working as a jazz soprano and as an improviser, collaborating with everyone from Stefan Schneider to Mats Gustafsson, as well as appearances on the stage and screen, most notably in Matthew Barney, Erna Ómarsdóttir, and Valdimar Jóhannsson’s »Union of the North«.

On »Voice«, Jernberg provides a ground-level entry point to her work, meticulously running through a litany of unconventional techniques (non-verbal vocalisation, split tones, toneless singing, and distortion) without any effects, just pure batshit sonics designed to show off the voice’s scope as an experimental instrument. On »Mouth Synthesizer« she purses her lips to make ratcheting pops like some analog oscillator, hoarsely mimicking the sort of blustery, Merzbow-coded distortions you might get if you patched a RAT pedal into a broken guitar amp. It isn’t an act of caricature, it’s Jernberg’s way of demonstrating that expensive modular rigs aren’t an essential tool for experimental music, before throwing a side-eye to the field recording industrial complex on »Birds«, transforming her vocal chords into a nightmare aviary. But it’s Jernberg’s startling »multiphonic« experiments that hit hardest. The album opens on »Multiphonic I«, and it’s difficult to tell that you’re listening to a human voice at first – you could just as well be on Colin Stetson’s overblown sax airstreams. Jernberg creates a captivating spiral of crooked, phased tones and hoarse, guttural croaks that she develops over three movements. On »Multiphonic II«, her voice is turned into a storm of pained shrieks, and on the third and final segment, it almost resembles Arve Henriksen or Jon Hassell’s muted brass curlicues. Each track pulls a different musical muscle, whether it’s »One Pitch« with its unsettling yodel-like quivering drones or »Gurgle«, sounding like a close mic-ed recording of a small pot gently simmering.

At the start of this summer, following a three-year hiatus for Daphni (punctuated only by his first ever collaborative Daphni track ‘Unidos’ alongside Sofia Kourtesis), he dropped ‘Sad Piano House’. The track represented something of a continuation in the Daphni catalogue, its roots growing from Cherry’s ‘Cloudy’ and its subsequent Kelbin remix, something in that song’s makeup having a profound effect when played on dancefloors by Snaith and countless others. ‘Sad Piano House’ deployed more intangibly irresistible bendy piano to equally satisfying effect and continues to achieve similarly rhapsodic dancefloor saturation.
Though a sizeable gap for Daphni releases, between Cherry and Butterfly however of course sits Honey, the latest Caribou album and one that saw the more instantaneous and dancefloor leaning traits of Daphni peaking through the cracks more than ever before. This blurring of the lines leads to an intriguing collaboration in Butterfly’s lead single ‘Waiting So Long (feat. Caribou)’. An unlikely duo - in that both artists are the same man, Dan Snaith - ‘Waiting So Long’ is not so much an identity crisis, ego trip, or the result of a chemical spill in the Snaith laboratory. It’s simply a track that Snaith felt for the first time belongs to both aliases, and might appeal to fans of both. He has never sung on a Daphni track before, and did not set out with the intention to do so this time, and yet this strange billing was born.

Daphni music has always been Snaith’s way of hitting directly to the core of the dancefloors he spends so much of his time playing to, and those dancefloors have been steadily expanding as his name grows, with the music following suit. This album however also draws from further back with a definite kinship to the very first Daphni album, the invigorating bag of ideas that was Jiaolong.
Butterfly is a showcase of the wonderful variety and surprising twists and turns that made that album such an exciting new prospect and that still to this day make Snaith such an intriguing DJ. There are more heavy hitters here, tracks that fill those dancefloors better than anyone, like ‘Clap Your Hands’ which picks up the energy of ‘Sad Piano House’ and flips it, exposing the gritty and intoxicating underbelly of Snaith’s hitmaking side, while retaining the playful urgency that runs through all of his work of late. Meanwhile ‘Hang’’s comic-strip horns are unpinned by gleeful force, unrelenting and thrillingly unshakeable. Elsewhere though comes a clutch of other tunes that might creep out somewhere more off the beaten path, a path Snaith has never stopped seeking in amongst his larger billings. ‘Lucky’ is squirmy and elusively intoxicating, ‘Invention’ skitters down meandering, inviting corridors, ‘Talk To Me’ grumbles and broods in the murk, and ‘Miles Smiles’ could roll on endlessly, so confident in its groove. There are no obvious peaks in these tracks or unifying moments, in fact many of them really have no business being on the dancefloor at all, and yet in the right setting, they could be the most fun to be had all night.

One such club is a good microcosm for the ethos of Butterfly as a whole. “Around the time I was finishing up this album I played a long set in a club called Open Ground in Wuppertal, Germany.” Snaith recalls, “It’s kind of, in one sense, the platonic ideal of the kind of club I’d want to play in. Every single decision has been taken, at great expense, with the aim of making the perfect sounding medium sized club room. But on top of it being the perfect acoustic environment it also is run by an amazing collection of people in a way that gives it a sense of community that dance music at its best provides. It is an absolute pleasure to play in that room to a crowd of people who come from all over. Playing in there you feel like you can play anything, and I played works in progress of pretty much every track on this album in my set there. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing a short set at a festival or in a more raw warehouse kind of club where you bang it out and only really functional music works but on record I guess the point of these Daphni records is to keep in mind a more expansive idea of dance music where the parameters are broad and the church is broad. I think that actually, putting really functional stuff next to weirder tracks (both on an album and in a dj set) might be the thing that’s still most interesting to me.”
This is the feeling that’s most palpable on Butterfly, and in every single time you see Snaith DJ. Right from the inception of the Daphni alias - and even before that – the thrill of trying stuff out, pushing at the boundaries has always been there and on Butterfly is present in all its twists and turns. It leaps all over the place and yet it hangs together, never feeling like a grab bag of dancefloor utilities but rather a distillation of all the strings to Snaith’s bow, exhilaratingly human and unified by one singular concept – simple and joyful exploration.

At the start of this summer, following a three-year hiatus for Daphni (punctuated only by his first ever collaborative Daphni track ‘Unidos’ alongside Sofia Kourtesis), he dropped ‘Sad Piano House’. The track represented something of a continuation in the Daphni catalogue, its roots growing from Cherry’s ‘Cloudy’ and its subsequent Kelbin remix, something in that song’s makeup having a profound effect when played on dancefloors by Snaith and countless others. ‘Sad Piano House’ deployed more intangibly irresistible bendy piano to equally satisfying effect and continues to achieve similarly rhapsodic dancefloor saturation.
Though a sizeable gap for Daphni releases, between Cherry and Butterfly however of course sits Honey, the latest Caribou album and one that saw the more instantaneous and dancefloor leaning traits of Daphni peaking through the cracks more than ever before. This blurring of the lines leads to an intriguing collaboration in Butterfly’s lead single ‘Waiting So Long (feat. Caribou)’. An unlikely duo - in that both artists are the same man, Dan Snaith - ‘Waiting So Long’ is not so much an identity crisis, ego trip, or the result of a chemical spill in the Snaith laboratory. It’s simply a track that Snaith felt for the first time belongs to both aliases, and might appeal to fans of both. He has never sung on a Daphni track before, and did not set out with the intention to do so this time, and yet this strange billing was born.

Daphni music has always been Snaith’s way of hitting directly to the core of the dancefloors he spends so much of his time playing to, and those dancefloors have been steadily expanding as his name grows, with the music following suit. This album however also draws from further back with a definite kinship to the very first Daphni album, the invigorating bag of ideas that was Jiaolong.
Butterfly is a showcase of the wonderful variety and surprising twists and turns that made that album such an exciting new prospect and that still to this day make Snaith such an intriguing DJ. There are more heavy hitters here, tracks that fill those dancefloors better than anyone, like ‘Clap Your Hands’ which picks up the energy of ‘Sad Piano House’ and flips it, exposing the gritty and intoxicating underbelly of Snaith’s hitmaking side, while retaining the playful urgency that runs through all of his work of late. Meanwhile ‘Hang’’s comic-strip horns are unpinned by gleeful force, unrelenting and thrillingly unshakeable. Elsewhere though comes a clutch of other tunes that might creep out somewhere more off the beaten path, a path Snaith has never stopped seeking in amongst his larger billings. ‘Lucky’ is squirmy and elusively intoxicating, ‘Invention’ skitters down meandering, inviting corridors, ‘Talk To Me’ grumbles and broods in the murk, and ‘Miles Smiles’ could roll on endlessly, so confident in its groove. There are no obvious peaks in these tracks or unifying moments, in fact many of them really have no business being on the dancefloor at all, and yet in the right setting, they could be the most fun to be had all night.

One such club is a good microcosm for the ethos of Butterfly as a whole. “Around the time I was finishing up this album I played a long set in a club called Open Ground in Wuppertal, Germany.” Snaith recalls, “It’s kind of, in one sense, the platonic ideal of the kind of club I’d want to play in. Every single decision has been taken, at great expense, with the aim of making the perfect sounding medium sized club room. But on top of it being the perfect acoustic environment it also is run by an amazing collection of people in a way that gives it a sense of community that dance music at its best provides. It is an absolute pleasure to play in that room to a crowd of people who come from all over. Playing in there you feel like you can play anything, and I played works in progress of pretty much every track on this album in my set there. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing a short set at a festival or in a more raw warehouse kind of club where you bang it out and only really functional music works but on record I guess the point of these Daphni records is to keep in mind a more expansive idea of dance music where the parameters are broad and the church is broad. I think that actually, putting really functional stuff next to weirder tracks (both on an album and in a dj set) might be the thing that’s still most interesting to me.”
This is the feeling that’s most palpable on Butterfly, and in every single time you see Snaith DJ. Right from the inception of the Daphni alias - and even before that – the thrill of trying stuff out, pushing at the boundaries has always been there and on Butterfly is present in all its twists and turns. It leaps all over the place and yet it hangs together, never feeling like a grab bag of dancefloor utilities but rather a distillation of all the strings to Snaith’s bow, exhilaratingly human and unified by one singular concept – simple and joyful exploration.

Subconscio left the smallest town in Gargano to begin a new life in uncharted Bologna.
Leaving mother earth, he still retains a strong sense of that distant world, expressed through the senses of his inner child. The Subconscio
project finds its expression in music, where it blends Neo Soul, Hip Hop, and Electronica into a sound deeply influenced by individual experiences. Soft vibrations and relaxed lyrics are the means through which he expresses his devotion to creative freedom, moving with the urgency of someone who has finally found his voice. The word dáimōn originates from Ancient Greek and means divine messenger, a guiding
spirit that hovers in a middle ground, called metaxu, the same place where the soul resides, and acts as a link between God and humanity.*
"Daimon" is Subconscio's debut album, produced by Luzee. It's the intimate vision of a person suspended in his imagination, questioning
the identity of his own memory and how the places that led him to his NOW are actually his future. The present doesn't exist in the narrative.
It exists only in the connection between childhood memories and the adult perspective.
Giulio is his son and also his parent: the Subconscious; the "daimon" is the musical journey that connects these two ways of observing the
same memory. Nostalgic turmoil meets the desire to recognize oneself and fuel the obsession with music, because only this—albeit the least
apparent art—is the only one that can be the voice and bearer of the dimensions of consciousness.
Featuring on the album: Madbuddy and Claver Gold

RENO, the debut album from Red Leather, is a scorched-earth confession wrapped in the swagger of classic rock and the soul of Americana. Written in the aftermath of addiction, heartbreak, and self-reckoning, it’s an unflinching look at what it means to burn your life down and start over. Across its 14 tracks, Red Leather howls through desert nights and neon cityscapes, blending grit and grace in equal measure. Songs like “Deathwish,” “Burn in Hell,” and “The Only Time It Rains in Hollywood” are raw, cinematic, and deeply human—each one a snapshot of pain, defiance, and redemption. Equal parts road trip and resurrection, RENO cements Red Leather as one of the most compelling new voices in modern rock. 1xLP, Single Pocket Jacket, Pressed on Translucent Red Vinyl

RENO, the debut album from Red Leather, is a scorched-earth confession wrapped in the swagger of classic rock and the soul of Americana. Written in the aftermath of addiction, heartbreak, and self-reckoning, it’s an unflinching look at what it means to burn your life down and start over. Across its 14 tracks, Red Leather howls through desert nights and neon cityscapes, blending grit and grace in equal measure. Songs like “Deathwish,” “Burn in Hell,” and “The Only Time It Rains in Hollywood” are raw, cinematic, and deeply human—each one a snapshot of pain, defiance, and redemption. Equal parts road trip and resurrection, RENO cements Red Leather as one of the most compelling new voices in modern rock. 1xLP, Single Pocket Jacket, Pressed on Translucent Red Vinyl

Wigwam's previously unreleased rare live recording from 1976 out in February via Svart Records In the summer of 1976, Wigwam performed not only in Finland but also in Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, and Germany. However, the pace slowed down afterward. The early autumn tours planned for European countries were cancelled, and even the replacement shows in Finland had to be postponed due to bassist Måns “Måsse” Groundstroem's sick leave. In October 1976 an opening appeared in the schedule for a studio session, during which Jim Pembroke’s third solo album, Corporal Cauliflower’s Mental Function, was recorded. After that, Wigwam played five gigs in Denmark at the end of November, followed by an equal number in Sweden. No exact information has survived about the concert setlists, but the band was in a stable phase, and certain songs had become staples in their live repertoire. Albums from Wigwam's deep-pop era, which began in autumn 1974, as well as Pembroke’s first solo records had already been released, and rehearsals were underway for what would become the Dark Album, released in 1977. It can be said that this concert, recorded for Danish Radio, is a strong representation of the band’s era at the time. The recording took place in northern Denmark, in a district called Lundtofte in Lyngby. Before this, Wigwam had performed in Køge and Århus, and after Lundtofte, gigs in Ballerup and Copenhagen awaited. Lundtofte was home to the Danish Technical University (DTU), where a student venue called “Studenterhuset” (Building 101) hosted a one- to two-day music events known as Polyjoint during the 1970’s. The events typically featured Danish bands, but also visiting acts like Wigwam. Most importantly, Danish Radio was sometimes present at these events. Wigwam had performed a studio concert for Danish Radio the previous year, but this particular recording is considered the more energetic of the two. Details have faded with time — for example, the identity of the second act at the concert is unknown. In any case, both guitarist Pekka “Rekku” Rechardt and keyboardist Pedro Hietanen remember the band being in high spirits, in top form, and highly motivated.

Wigwam's previously unreleased rare live recording from 1976 out in February via Svart Records In the summer of 1976, Wigwam performed not only in Finland but also in Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, and Germany. However, the pace slowed down afterward. The early autumn tours planned for European countries were cancelled, and even the replacement shows in Finland had to be postponed due to bassist Måns “Måsse” Groundstroem's sick leave. In October 1976 an opening appeared in the schedule for a studio session, during which Jim Pembroke’s third solo album, Corporal Cauliflower’s Mental Function, was recorded. After that, Wigwam played five gigs in Denmark at the end of November, followed by an equal number in Sweden. No exact information has survived about the concert setlists, but the band was in a stable phase, and certain songs had become staples in their live repertoire. Albums from Wigwam's deep-pop era, which began in autumn 1974, as well as Pembroke’s first solo records had already been released, and rehearsals were underway for what would become the Dark Album, released in 1977. It can be said that this concert, recorded for Danish Radio, is a strong representation of the band’s era at the time. The recording took place in northern Denmark, in a district called Lundtofte in Lyngby. Before this, Wigwam had performed in Køge and Århus, and after Lundtofte, gigs in Ballerup and Copenhagen awaited. Lundtofte was home to the Danish Technical University (DTU), where a student venue called “Studenterhuset” (Building 101) hosted a one- to two-day music events known as Polyjoint during the 1970’s. The events typically featured Danish bands, but also visiting acts like Wigwam. Most importantly, Danish Radio was sometimes present at these events. Wigwam had performed a studio concert for Danish Radio the previous year, but this particular recording is considered the more energetic of the two. Details have faded with time — for example, the identity of the second act at the concert is unknown. In any case, both guitarist Pekka “Rekku” Rechardt and keyboardist Pedro Hietanen remember the band being in high spirits, in top form, and highly motivated.

The story follows a protagonist through an alternate-history space race, imagining a future where humanity settles on the moon and leaves a dying Earth behind. Musically, the record delivers the tight, energetic, hook-driven sound that appeals to fans of Delta Sleep and Snooze. This special edition includes the 10" record in a proper 10" outer sleeve and a custom 12" slip mat in its own 12" outer sleeve. The artwork of the 10" aligns with the slip mat design to create the appearance of an ink or blood stain when displayed together. Only 50 copies were produced.

Islaja presents her new album ”Angel Tape”, her debut release on the new Helsinki-based label Other Power. Drawing inspiration from childhood epiphanies while listening to an alleged recording of angels singing, Islaja has crafted an album that stands out as a major work in her expansive and celebrated catalogue, which includes previous releases on labels such as Ecstatic Peace!, Fonal and Svart.


Islaja, aka Finnish artist Merja Kokkonen, describes her new album as a “counterwork” to her most recent albums, where the mode of composing was more song-based. This time around, she goes more in the direction of vast fields of sound where the human voice is a key ingredient of music that breaks free of strict stylistic guidelines and traditional song forms. Rough around the edges, atonal and otherworldly, "Angel Tape” is the result of a lifetime of inspiration from something beyond the immediate realm of our experience, an attempt to catch the elusive essence of musical otherness.


”As a child, I listened to the ’angel tape’ my mother played, and I never thought that the human voices I heard on it were angels singing. Instead, all the aural debris lying just beneath the surface caught my attention as I thought it was mysterious and something from a different world than ours, and so that was probably what was referred to as the ’angels’ so miraculously caught on tape”, Kokkonen explains. ”I think this was one thing that led me on this lifelong quest to find new sounds and forms in music.”



The tape she is referring to, a mid-80s church recording, was passed around in religious circles. Each time the tape was copied, it became slightly more distorted. It was believed that this recording of religious music had accidentally captured for the first time the voices of actual angels singing. The tape was rumoured to have originated in Kansas City and to have made its way to Finland.


Whereas Islaja has often thought of albums as being collections of recent songs presented together, ”Angel Tape” has a strong sense of conceptual coherence. The music comes from a place. That doesn’t mean that one must take a single path from one place to the next, as close listenings of the album reveal layers upon layers of not only sound but also of mood and meaning. From the human voice in its barest form, to the rising dense walls of sound moving and reshaping, ”Angel Tape” is a captivating album that unveils new contours with each repeated listening.

Bless the Maker: the Great Houses of Laced Records and Funcom have forged a temporary trade agreement to bring you the expansive soundtrack for ‘Dune: Awakening’ on vinyl.  The hit survival game has garnered critical praise for its incredibly faithful and detailed realisation of the Dune universe - from its sprawling vistas to deep lore and political intrigue. The music is integral in recreating the atmosphere of Arrakis, conjuring not only its striking landscapes but the human experience of life on the planet.  Recorded live at Air Studios in London with The Chamber Orchestra of London, Knut Avenstroup Haugen’s soundtrack conjures a planetary sense of scale.

Arcing strings shimmer and twist weightless in the air like heat rising from the desert floor, while resonant brass evokes dawn stretching out across the sands.  The luscious acoustic instrumentation is enhanced and elevated by rippling electronics, capturing Dune's singular blend of science fiction and spiritual tradition.  Soaring vocal performances from Clara Sorace, Eurielle and Emília Rovira Alegre centre this sense of the sacred, pushing the soundtrack to ecstatic emotional peaks.  Black heavyweight double vinyl.  24 tracks from the acclaimed 2025 survival game.  Widespined outer sleeve  Printed, spined inner sleeves.  Bespoke sleeve artwork by Funcom.

The journey through French-speaking pop archives continues with this fifth volume, packed with fuzz, gimmicks, and dissent. Far from the charts, the selected tracks display a great creative freedom, often backed by corrosive humor. Welcome to the surprising, kaleidoscopic, and colorful world of the late sixties and early seventies, Wizzz!
Born in Montauban, Robert Pico stumbled into music by chance when he met René Vaneste, then artistic director at Pathé-Marconi. René brought him to Paris to record his first 45 RPM EP in 1964. A year later, Pierre Perret introduced him to Vogue, where he recorded his second album with Claude Nougaro’s orchestra. Sylvie Vartan then introduced him to RCA, where he recorded four singles, including the astonishing "Chien Fidèle," a track backed by a hair-rising fuzz guitar. Alongside his solo career, he also composed for other artists like Alain Delon (the song was recorded but remains unreleased), Magali Noël, Bourvil, and Georges Guétary. In the Paris of the sixties, he mingled with Mireille Darc, Elsa Martinelli, Marie Laforêt, France Gall, Françoise Hardy, Petula Clark, Régine, Dani, Serge Gainsbourg, Joe Dassin, Franck Fernandel, Charles Level, and Roland Vincent. Despite his efforts and winning a Grand Prix Sacem for his final record, Robert Pico didn’t achieve the expected success in show business and decided to leave Paris and return to the Southwest, where he devoted himself to writing. He is the author of 23 books (including Delon et Compagnie, Jean-Marc Savary Editions 2025, a memoir about his youth and his many encounters). Today, he is relieved to never have become a celebrity and devotes himself to his work with passion.
In 1969, the Franco-Italian movie Erotissimo was released, directed by Gérard Pirès (who later directed Taxi in 1998, written and produced by Luc Besson). This pop comedy features Annie Girardot, Jean Yanne, Francis Blanche, Serge Gainsbourg, Nicole Croisille, Jacques Martin, and Patrick Topaloff. The soundtrack was written by Michel Polnareff and William Sheller, with lyrics by Jean-Lou Dabadie. "La Femme Faux-cils," performed by Annie Girardot. It recounts the feelings of a rich CEO's wife who seeks to develop her sex appeal under the influence of advertisement and magazines. Groovy, sparkling and light, this track, with ITS lush arrangements humorously critiques consumer society and feminine beauty standards.
“Je suis l’Etat” (1967) is the flagship track of the first EP by singer-songwriter Spauv Georges, aka Georges Larriaga, better known as Jim Larriaga (1941-2022). Born into a family of bakers, the young man was initially planning to become a hairdresser when he discovered English-speaking music through Elvis Presley and the Beatles. After this revelation, he decided he would become a songwriter and gave himself five years to succeed. He recorded his first two EP’s independently for RCA under the pseudonym Spauv Georges; meaning “that poor George”, a nickname given to him by the mother of her friend Jean-Pierre Prévotat (future drummer of the Players, Triangle, or Johnny Hallyday). Portraying a depressed and eccentric young man, Spauv Georges created corrosive and amusing songs that didn’t reach a wide audience, despite a TV appearance with Jean-Christophe Averty.
Supported by his loyal friend and fellow songwriter Jean-Max Rivière, Georges Larriaga met the future singer Carlos in the early '70s, then Sylvie Vartan’s assistant. He wrote songs for Carlos, including the popular "La vie est belle," "Y’a des indiens partout," and "La cantine", which went onto become a huge hit in 1972. He also composed for Claude François (“Anne-Marie”, 1971), Charlotte Julian (“Fleur de province”, 1972), helped launch child singer Roméo (who sold 4 million records), and later wrote the hit "Pas besoin d’éducation sexuelle" (1975) for the young Julie Bataille. In 1971, Jim recorded an album for Disc'Az: “L’univers étrange et fou de Jim Larriaga”, which featured pop gems like “La maison de mon père”.
The story of the song "Zoé" began when Pierre Dorsay, artistic director at Vogue Records, asked Swiss singer and musician Pierre Alain to write a song for a new female singer. The inspiration came when he realized that Zoé (the artist's name) was also the name of France's first atomic battery, created in 1948, which consisted of uranium oxide immersed in heavy water! The lyrics reflect a bubbling energy that must be handled with caution, while the instrumentation echoes this atomic theme, notably with the use of a theremin.
Zoé’s career lasted only as long as a single 45 RPM, but it seems Christine Fontane was the vocalist behind this pseudonym, who is known for several EPs, a good "popcorn" album in 1964, and a handful of children’s singles in the '70s. Regardless, the photograph on the cover is of a different girl entirely.
Later, Pierre Alain continued his career, writing songs for himself, Marie Laforêt, Danièle Licari, Alice Dona, Arlette Zola (3rd place in Eurovision 1982), and achieving multiple gold and platinum records in Canada. Also an inventor with several patents, president of the Romande Academy, and head of the French Alliance in Geneva, he now composes atonal music, books, and poetry. Moreover, he is also the host of "Les Mardis de Pierre Alain" at "Le P'tit Music'Hohl" in Geneva.
Filled with oriental choruses and fuzz guitar, "Fou" is from Jacques Da Sylva's only EP released by Vogue in 1967. Despite the quality of this recording, all traces of this singer disappear after this first effort.
Valentin is a baroque pop singer born in Belgium. He is the songwriter and composer of most of the tracks on his three singles released in the late 60s in Canada. A legend says that he reincarnated himself as Jacky Valentin during the 1970s for a rock'n'roll revival career in Belgium, but his older brother sadly debunked this story. Valentin's first two singles were arranged by Claude Rogen, a Parisian session pianist who had come to Canada to promote the song “Mister A Gogo”, a cover of David Bowie’s “Laughing Gnome”, adapted by singer Delphine, his wife at the time. Far from his usual network, Claude Rogen arranged music for Polydor, including the arrangements for “Je suis un vagabond” in 1969, a jerk tune with string arrangements and a furious optimism.
Jacques Malia wrote, composed, and recorded his only 45 EP for Festival in 1966. “Histoire de gitan” is an incredible beat track with bohemian scat that tells the story of a gypsy musician who came to Paris to make it in the Music-Hall, to no avail. The hero of the song and its author probably shared a similar fate, as Jacques Malia faded into anonymity after this remarkable attempt.
Bernard Jamet recorded two EPs for Barclay in the late sixties and co-wrote several songs with Christine Pilzer, Pascal Danel, and prolific songwriters Michel Delancray and Mya Simile. The track “Raison Légale” (1968), his masterpiece, immerses the listener in a courtroom right when a murderer is being judged, with jerk rhythm and free arrangements. A unique, paranoid, judicial, and psychedelic oddity.
Jean-Pierre Lebrot-Millers started his career in show business in 1967 as a singer and songwriter for the Philips label. After three singles, he wrote several songs of a new kind with his friend Pierre Halioche, in the midst of the sexual liberation movement and the democratization of drugs. With provocative lyrics, “Les filles du hasard” and “Barbara au Chapeau Rose” were released on a Philips singles in 1968. The character of Barbara was inspired by a queen of Parisian nightlife during the psychedelic years: model Charlotte Martin, who dated Eric Clapton from 1965 to 1968, then Jimmy Page from 1970 to 1983. Jean-Claude Petit’s arrangements, with a table-filled intro, soul brass, and Hendrixian guitar, emphasize the flamboyance of a hedonistic and sexy character, whose dog is named Junkie because “Junkie est un nom exquis”! The track was recorded live in three takes with a full orchestra.
Upon its release, the record was censored by Europe 1 and RTL due to its references to drug use. Jean-Pierre Lebrot was then banned from the airwaves and later dismissed by his record label. He changed his artist name to Jean-Pierre Millers, while his companion Pierre Halioche became D. Dolby for a new dreamy composition, “Chilla”, which Jean-Pierre produced himself with arrangements by Jean Musy. Once again, the song was immediately censored everywhere. After this setback, he decided to stop singing and started taking on odd jobs to support his Swedish wife and their son until the day he met Jean-Pierre Martin, then production manager at Decca, who had worked with Manu Dibango. Martin offered Jean-Pierre Lebrot-Millers, then employed at Rank Xerox, the position of artistic director at Decca. He accepted and became, a year later, promotion director (radio, press, TV). He worked on Julio Iglesias’s first album for Decca, which became a massive hit and allowed him to meet Claude Carrère. The latter asked him to write new songs and find their performers, much like a “talent scout.” It’s through him that Jean-Pierre discovered Julie Pietri and Corinne Hermès. He composed “Ma Pompadour” for Ringo, Sheila’s husband, and took the microphone again for the syncope hit “Rendez-Vous” in 1982.
That same year, Jean-Pierre Lebrot-Millers tried to release a track for which he had heavily gone into debt: “Si la vie est un cadeau”. Having recorded it in London, he presented it to numerous professionals, all of whom refused to get involved. The same thing happened with Antenne 2 and the Sacem when he proposed the song as France’s entry for Eurovision. He then met Haïm Saban, who was producing cartoon soundtracks and had just launched the Goldorak theme song. Saban, having listened to the song, declared it had the potential to become a hit. He sent Jean-Pierre and Corinne Hermès to meet the CEO of the Luxembourg radio and television network. The latter received them, asked to hear a verse and chorus a cappella in his office, and immediately hired them to represent Luxembourg at Eurovision 1983. They reworked the arrangements and recorded a new version with Haïm Saban as co-producer. The song ended up winning Eurovision 1983, a great comeback for our hero. He continued producing and hung out with the band Nacash in Belgium when a couple came to introduce their daughter for an impromptu audition in a hotel room. The girl sang “Les démons de minuit” while dancing to a radio cassette. Impressed, he had her take singing lessons for a year and composed a song for her (for which he had the melody and title, but no lyrics). This required him to go on the hunt for a lyricist, who ended up being Guy Carlier. They recorded the song, which was initially a ballad, at Bernard Estardy’s CBE studio, and gave the singer a new name: Melody. They showed the song around their industry network without success. Later, Estardy called Jean-Pierre to suggest changing the rhythm and making it pop-rock. Orlando, Dalida’s brother, liked the result and decided to co-produce the track. “Y’a pas que les grands qui rêvent » became a classic hit. The song has since been covered by Juliette Armanet (as a ballad, like the original) and Valentina.

Born into an aristocratic Breton family, Hervé Mettais-Cartier worked as a DJ at Queen Kiss, a nightclub in Poitiers, where he formed the band Les Concentrés with Michel (an actor) and Christian (a radio technician). Together, they created a repertoire of whimsical songs (“Ma bique est morte”, “J’suis un salaud”, “Fils de dégénéré”...) that they performed on stage dressed in white (in homage to “concentrated milk”). They performed at Bliboquet and Olympia in 1968 for the 10th edition of the “Relais de la chanson Française” organized by L’Humanité-Dimanche and Nous les Garçons et les Filles, sponsored by Pepsi Cola. Winners in the author-composer category, alongside Danish singer Dorte, their visibility allowed them to record a 45, and appear on television in Jean-Christophe Averty’s show. The A-side of the disc features Bruno le ravageur, a casatchok dedicated to Bruno Caquatrix, the director of Olympia, nicknamed in the song “Coq Atroce” or “croque-actrices”. The B-side is dedicated to “Fils de dégénéré”, a quirky tribute to Hervé's aristocratic roots, mixing absurdity with sophisticated vocal harmonies.
After Les Concentrés, Hervé Mettais-Cartier formed the duo La Paire et sa Bêtise with his friend Olivier Robert. They performed in Parisian cabarets and toured with Pierre Vassiliu. In the late 1970s, Hervé began a solo career. He recorded two albums for the Motors label in 1978 and 1979, which did not achieve their anticipated success due to lack of promotion. In 1980, he met Bernadette, with whom he started a family and created a “Chansons à voir” (songs to see) show that he performed until his death at the end of 2024.

Publicité comes from the final EP by the Missiles (Ducretet Thomson, 1966), a disc that also includes “La (nouvelle) guerre de cent ans”, featured on Volume 4 of our Wizzz! series. Please refer to the booklet for the story of the band.

“He’s 1.82 meters tall, 28 years old, weighs 135 kg, is black and Belgian”: this is the description of singer Hegesippe on the back of his sole single (Decca, 1967). He appears on the album cover wearing a Greek toga, like a hippie gag – we are at the end of the year 1967. In “Le crédo d’Hegesippe”, this former bodyguard of Antoine and the Charlots plays the delightful card of the thick brute converted to Flower-Power and non-violence, with arrangements by Jean-Daniel Mercier, aka Paul Mille.
“Ethéro-disco” was released on a promotional record for clients of the Maréchal company (Liège, Belgium) for the New Year 1979. Over a funky rhythm, celebrity impersonations (Brigitte Bardot, Jacques Dutronc, Fernandel…) deliver an enigmatic text about pharmaceutical products like ether, bismuth, and aspartate. The track was composed by Dan Sarravah (responsible for Joanna's “Hold-up inusité” featured on Wizzz! Volume 3) and Tony Talado, who was also a singer (one 45 in 1967), songwriter (with over a dozen credits between 1964 and 1985 in various styles from surf music to disco), author (Devenez Végétarien, Dricot Editions, 1985), ad designer, and psychologist.

Décollez-les is on the A-side of Mamlouk's only single, a pseudonym for Marsel Hurten, who is known for his work on several EPs in the late sixties, as well as composing music for Hervé Vilard’s “Capri, c’est fini”, Claude Channes' “La Haine”, Annie Philippe’s “On m’a toujours dit”, and Nancy Holloway’s “Panne de Cœur”.
This strange song, with Afrobeat horns and absurd dialogues between a chef and his kitchen staff, is the result of a collaboration between Marsel Hurten and one of his neighbors, a photographer from Pavillon-sous-Bois (93), where the musician settled after returning from the Algerian War. A music video was shot to promote the record.
Marsel Hurten was born in Tourcoing (59) into a musical family. At a young age, he joined the brass band founded by his grandfather, playing the piston before studying trumpet at the conservatory, as well as teaching himself how to play the guitar. As an orchestra musician, he toured in France, Belgium, Germany, and England. He released a series of solo 45’s between 1965 and 1968 for the DMF and Az labels before stopping recording to focus on working for other artists (Gilles Olivier, Noëlle Cordier…).
“L’amour nu” (Vogue, 1971) is the work of the short-lived Belgian band Mozaïque. The track, written by singer Jacques Albin, closely resembles another of his compositions, “Carré Blanc”, which he recorded in 1969 for Disc’AZ.
Represented by the Lumi Son micro-label based in Marignane (Côte d'Azur), Jean-Marc Garrigues released two 45 RPMs in the late sixties, defending the French jerk sound. The song “Je dis Non” is a short, joyful ode to youth, pop music, and rebellion.
Songwriter and performer Jacques Penuel released three singles. The first one, “Astronef 328” (Fontana, 1969), features a dizzying series of chords punctuated by sound effects, a sci-fi story, and arrangements by Jean-Claude Vannier.

We would like to sincerely thank Pierre Alain, Moon Blaha, Marsel Hurten, Bastien Larriaga, Jean-Pierre Lebrot-Millers, Bernadette Mettais-Cartier, Robert Pico, Olivier Robert, Claude Rogen, Micky Segura.

Purple vinyl. With Abyss Calls to Abyss, their third full-length album, Skulld bring to completion a path that began in 2019, a journey through old-school death metal, esoteric mysticism, and radical punk-rooted activism. Written and recorded in 2025, the album unfolds as an eight-track odyssey exploring the furthest edges of human and spiritual experience through a feminist, pagan, and anti-authoritarian lens. The abyss evoked by the album is not only an external, cosmic void, but also an inner, personal, and collective chasm, the place where death and rebirth collide, where wounds and healing, desire and destruction intertwine. Each song delves deep into the essence of being, merging ancestral ritualism, female mythology, social critique, and archetypal symbolism into a single, cohesive vision.

Nearly 40 years ago A.O.A. and OI POLLOI joined forces to condemn what they saw as an Unlimited Genocide. Fast forward to 2025 and nothing has changed for the better, with everybody witnessing a genocide unfolding in front of our eyes daily, while humanity hits rocks bottom. So Sealed Record decided it was the right time to bring back this classic slice of Scottish punks and skins protest music.
Originally released on the ever impressive Children of the Revolution Records Unlimited Genocide features the hardest side of the OI POLLOI vast catalogue. Full of rage and anger, tensely tuneful with earnest anarcho conviction. With A.O.A. On the flip side delivering seven tracks of full in your face hardcore punk, carrying the torch of the DISCHARGE influenced thrash of the era.
The record has a strong 80’s production and touches on green and environmental issues, apartheid, nuclear power, religion, vegetarianism and much more. It’s raw, direct and a great snapshot of an era that is often mimicked but never bettered.
This reissue has been remastered and includes a printed inner sleeve as well as a slightly altered artwork.

Reissue of the 3rd full length by Thomas Bücker aka Bersarin Quartett.

Melancholia. Longing. It is difficult to speak about these moods or states of the mind without invoking stereotypes. In ancient medicine, melancholia was considered to be one of the four temperaments, matching the four humours. In fact, melancholia, meaning "black bile" in Ancient Greek, was thought to be caused by an excess of this very body substance. By contrast, in more modern interpretations, literates and Freudians relate many variations of longing to the one primordial longing, the desire to return to one's mother's womb. In this context, the womb is considered to be the place of absolute comfort and cosiness, of total bliss. Thus it should not be surprising that to many of us melancholia is a mood which we like to invoke and to maintain, we like to envelop ourselves in it like in a warm blanket. Our brain and our sensory systems appear to be made for perceiving and emotionally responding to music in a very immediate fashion. Consequently music is the obvious drug for all of us melancholia-addicts. However, there is a thin line between melancholia and sadness, and music which is meant to be melancholic too often crosses this line by far. Only very few artists succeed in avoiding this crossing, and in creating music which is melancholia in its most pure form. It is safe to say that BERSARIN QUARTETT - the electronic music project of Thomas Bücker - is one of them.

After his debut in 2008 and the sophomore "II" in 2012 - album of the month in many magazines and in numerous "Best of the year" lists - Bücker in 2015 returned with his third BERSARIN QUARTETT album "III". Much like his two predecessors, III is a pure paradox. It is the creation of a perfectionist, an adamant control freak. Every element, be it a note, an ambience layer, a string arrangement, a field recording, a baseline, a vocal (Clara Hill on Track 11) or a beat, is meticulously modified and then assigned its place in Bücker's vast but still minimalistic arrangements. Thus, superficially Bücker's pieces seem to radiate a certain mechanical bleakness. However, there is a unique reduced warmth and liveliness emerging from these stainless compositions and transcending them. This transcendence is precisely the point where Bücker ironically looses control over his creations. In contrast to the first two BERSARIN QUARTETT albums, III offers a few darker shades and succeeds even further in narrowing down the arrangements to the absolute essentials without loosing the characteristic grandeur of Bücker's sound. Whereas BERSARIN QUARTETT's debut was merely a description of melancholia in its most pure form, III maybe even goes as far a defining what melancholia really is. It is the only emotion in the vast spectrum of human states of mind which one can bear forever.

Gonzen, uminari or retumbos. Perhaps you've heard these sounds? They're known to occur all over the world and, as one might expect, humans have strained to offer various explanations for these unsettling emissions that materialise unbidden from the sky.

We like to say that we've understood what's happening so that we can move on. Tidy up the loose ends and don't scare the horses. Nothing wrong with that in good measure, but there's something to be said for the Haudenosaunee peoples' explanation. They pointed out that the Great Spirit hasn't finished their work of shaping the earth and is making a fair bit of noise while they're at it.

If you accept that many questions never truly get answered, in fact can or should never truly be answered, you may be able to tune your mind to this collection of lingering sonic detonations. If you accept that the work is ongoing, our labours seldom done, that there's not much point talking about the end of anything, you may be ready to join us. It's not our task to finish it, nor are we free to desist.

NPVR is the avant garde duo made up of the late Peter Rehberg and Nik Void. Editions Mego is proud to present their second and final release. No this is not some kind of Beatles synthetic AI that raises the dead reconstructed recordings but rather a new album made by the humans and their machines.

The initial meeting of Rehberg and Void was in London in 2016 and despite or due to their mutual awkwardness found solace and compatibility in the fact that they both had a similar electronic modular set up, along with matching cases to transport all. The idea to collaborate was an obvious and organic process as a means to connect their individual gear together and observe the outcome. The fruits of these initial experiments, recorded in London, resulted in the playful experimentation of their acclaimed 2017 release 33 33 (eMego 251).

Now in 2024 Editions Mego presents the logically titled follow up, 33 34. These sessions were recorded six months after the initial recordings at Peter’s home in Vienna. This was planned out as a mirror city release to the original London recordings. With Peter having access to his full studio set up this time around we encounter a rich audio landscape which organically folds together a variety of musical genres blurring any distinction between these forms so the resulting music hovers as a new cloud of sound. Any musical form, be it industrial, electro-acoustic, ambient, drone and techno all coexist and melt into the other as the ensuing result unveils a hypnotic swarm of divergent sounds (music). When active there were no lines or contexts with NPVR, either between sound or genre within these recordings or live where NPVR were at home playing at a techno club one night and an avant garde venue the next.

The initial session of these recordings was edited by Rehberg and sent to Void to further develop. Over time the final versions were agreed on and then shelved as other outside projects took over. The awkwardness had been surmounted and the two had become close friends. NPVR performed at a range of venues such as Tresor, Sutton House, Corsica, Blitz, Paris GRM #Focus2, LEV Festival and Rigas Skanumezs Festival. Following Rehberg’s untimely passing Void had difficulty listening back to the sessions but eventually thought it fit to complete and release this album, of which even the artwork (like 33 33, an image from Zurich photographer, Georg Gatsas) had been decided upon prior to Rehberg parting ways.

There is an unmistakable joy to these recordings. One encounters an enthralling exploration of their chosen machines which conveys the excitement of what can be randomly conjured when people speak through such devices. There is no grand statement or argument here, just the sheer thrill of creation and the recorded results of random encounters. The art of collaboration was always a mainstay of Rehberg’s practice from the advent of the MEGO adventure. Rehberg & Bauer was an initial collaboration with former business partner Ramon Bauer. Even at this stage one can hear a relaxed sense of delight in the sheer discovery of sound.

A mix made for the Wire magazine following the release of 33 33 hints at the freedom that comes with endless urge for exploration and discovery. Abstract tracks from Z'EV. Jérôme Noetinger and Jung An Tagen are included alongside British stalwarts The Fall and New Order. There were no lines between pop / academic / underground or mainstream in Rehberg’s world. All of it sat at the same table. It is just matter in the atmosphere, like the diverse exploration found in these recordings that comprise 33 34.

Towards the end of his life Rehberg was obsessing over the immense output of the German ambient musician Pete Namlook. An artist renowned for not only his sprawling catalogue of ambient masterpieces but one who often said his main inspiration was nature. This is apt with regards to the work of NPVR which also aligns with such thought as the intertwining of the two individual artists and their machines results in a natural symbiotic flow, as it happens, just like in the world around us.

"Ensomheden Vi Deler" ("The Loneliness We Share") is the result of a dialogue between the collages and the music of øjeRum, initiated by IIKKI, between December 2024 and July 2025.

øjeRum is Copenhagen based musician and collage artist Paw Grabowski.

With his collages, the distinctive feature of øjeRum's works is their ability to combine different historical and artistic periods, such as ancient sculpture, medieval frescoes, classical painting and photography, and to make them interact with one another. øjeRum is also renowned for his work as a musician, where he stands out for his surreal, mysterious and poetic universe. His music and art are closely linked. These two sides of the artist's work are constantly intertwined.

In his øjeRum guise, he plucks and strums his treated acoustic instruments, sounding at times like church bells, at times like angelic harp, at time like drones, and suspends the listener in the magic of his melodies. With a deep back-catalogue of releases since 2014 - spanning labels such as eilean rec., Room40, Line, Opal Tapes and many more - he continues exploring his minimal, textural and deeply personal style of ambient music.

The collage and music project "Ensomheden Vi Deler" ("The Loneliness We Share") is an exploration of loneliness, closeness and distance. A meditation on the fragile architectures and hidden shapes of human connection. This is his second release on IIKKI.

Fine Art Book, Ltd. to 500 copies:
Hand numbered & hand stamped / first edition and only edition (no re-print) / hardcover book (15 cm x 21 cm) on Wibalin Natural Cotton White / 80 pages, 35 collages printed on Freelife Vellum 120g/m2 / Swiss Binding / Coloured edges with neon green pantone / Neon Green pantone on front and back cover (logo, slot and circle) / Sticker on front cover.

In every human's journey, there should be moments of reflection and renewal.

After an interlude of six months, stepping back from the city life, Nabil returns home with a selection of tracks that echo his innermost thoughts and feelings through deep, well revisited inspirations.

Phreaky Friday takes us on his ride, embracing this soul search.

Although humans possess language as a means of communication, We sometimes hurt each other simply by intending to. In war, bullets kill people. If we consider words to be like bullets, they can be violent and cause mental suffering. However, when communication causes problems, the only way to solve them is through more communication. I thought: wouldn't it be wonderful if those bullets could turn int flowers instead? In everyday life, when we talk, laugh and share moments with friends and family, Those moments can be transformed into flowers. Keeping this in mind, I created this album. (Hidetoshi Koizumi aka Hybrid Leisureland)

The former conscientious objector has long used his music to denounce the abuse of power and advocate for humanity and peace. Now, at a time when war has once again become part of our daily lives - at least in the news - the successful singer-songwriter dedicates an entire album to the subject: Fra guerra e pace (Between War And Peace). " War is a dimension from which humanity has never truly freed itself. A place where destruction and annihilation intersect with other aspects of life - love, birth, hunger, or thirst," writes the artist in the foreword to the album booklet. With this musically and thematically rich album, Pippo Pollina brings us closer to the people behind the headlines, giving life to what we only hear in the news. We are confronted with fear, pain, and grief - but also with hope, love, and poetry

Xexa is still undefined, gliding over her origins, influences, and points of reference. Her music is informed by uploads from all that, processing heritage and future in much the same democratic way, sure of its (her!) path. Synthetic as it may sound, »Kissom« contains the very human element of Xexa's presence, not only through her instantly recognizable ethereal vocals but also manifest in the web of grooves stopping short of »dance«. »Kizomba 003« is the closest she comes to the dancefloor, a reduced take on the popular style of kizomba, a low-key interpretation but with the vocals atypically high in the mix. A brief breath of nostalgia. »Kissom« (title track) prolongs the slow pace, almost as an extended mix of »Kizomba 003«, stretching the sexy bounce for close to 4 extra-delightful minutes.

Everything seems to dissolve into space, as if every track gently expires only to be reconfigured somewhere else, molecule by molecule, perhaps in a different location within our mind. The artist somehow corroborates the feeling, particularly regarding »Será«, »Xtinti«, and »Txe«, which she says »finish exactly where I wanted. They all end with an EQ that mutes the frequencies until they cease to exist«. Here, there, sparse beats, successive waves of ambience, half-machine lips singing close to our ears, a blend of classic 4AD and a metallic environment warmly wrapping around the music. Extra-long, »Quem és tu?« poses the question – Who are we? Who is she? And the title »Kissom« stems from another question Xexa often hears from people, »Ki som é este?« (What is this music?). The answer might well be the artist's own paste of the words »kiss« and »som«. Lovely.

The re-release of 'Flamma Flamma' by the Intuition Music labe was to mark the 30th anniversary and featured a remastered and re- edited version of the original album released worldwide in 1994. It's appearing for the first time on double vinyl, as well as on CD. The composer himself supervised the remastering and re-editing. After its initial release on CD in 1994, 'Flamma Flamma' climbed numerous international charts and quickly developed from an insider tip to a major bestseller and has been compared with Orff's'Carmina Burana'. The gothic world - both romantic gothic and trash gothic - also embraced the work during long 'Flamma Flamma theme weekends' in castles across Europe.

Nicholas Lens began his trilogy 'The Accacha Chronicles' (Flamma Flamma / Terra Terra / Amor Aeternus) with the first part, 'Flamma Flamma', as a search for harmony between the contradictory elements in nature and human nature. The fusion of nonEuropean musical cultures with Western classical music has been described and appreciated as highly unique. Finally, unlike almost every other requiem, 'Flamma Flamma' not only deals with grief and pain, but also presents death as anatural part of the cosmic life process.

Sugaring a Strawberry, the sophomore record from Julia, Julia, is a study in coming undone—on purpose. Recorded at COMA, Julia Kugel's home studio, and mixed through a custom Flickenger clone, the album drifts in and out of clarity like memory itself. It's emotionally retrospective, creatively unvarnished, and deeply human. You can hear it in the hiss, the warmth, in the vocals so raw they're like an open window. These songs weren't engineered for perfection. They were built to breathe. Her long-time collaborator and husband, Scott Montoya, mixes it all so loosely that you can hear the air between tracks— a space that makes the music feel inhabited rather than recorded.


"Bound" opens the album like a secret passed between sisters, solemn and unspeakably close. It begins with the softest of touches: hushed guitar, a near- whispered delivery that carries the intimacy of someone singing only for one other person. It's a love song, but not romantic, more ancestral in the way long bonds can be. All glow and undercurrent, "I Know," is like hearing someone hum through a wound. The track arrives as if it had been waiting, coiled and complete, to be sung. Its pulse is slow but insistent, anchored on a hypnotic loop and a vocal that's half-incantation, half-confession. One of the most outward-facing songs on the record, "Feeling Lucky," opens like a cigarette flicked in the dark– smoky and a little bit slick. Built on a skeletal beat and a nearly detached vocal, it leans into a sarcastic swagger that barely masks the ache beneath. The delivery is droll and glazed, the instrumentation is sparse and a little woozy, leaving space for her voice to sway—a shrug of a song, stylish in its sadness. "A Love That Hurts" drifts in on soft, fingerpicked guitar and a dry, close-mic vocal that feels both haunted and immediate. The mix is stripped down and analog-warm, letting tape hum and silence frame the emotion. Julia sings like she's remembering something she doesn't want to, each line a slight unraveling. Like the rest of the album, "A Love That Hurts" doesn't push toward resolution. It sits in the ache, sifts through it, makes it beautiful.

Sugaring a Strawberry doesn't seek catharsis so much as stumbles into it. There's a quiet volatility to these songs like they might fall apart if you press too hard. It moves in shadow and softness, asking questions it doesn't answer. It doesn’t end with closure. It ends with truth.

For his last solo record ‘Through a Room’, Bill Nace shifted his usual saturated guitar sound and added tapes, hurdy gurdy, doughnut pipe, bird calls and the mysterious Japanese taishōgoto. Setting up for the final night of his three day residency at OTO with only the taishōgoto soundchecked, Nace hoped that Parker would arrive with his small soprano as its opposite. “I’ve been interested in state change, you know, playing until there’s a shift in time.” Known for his development of multiphonics to produce a constantly shifting pattern, Evan Parker has evolved an instantly recognizable sound - his work the soprano most distinct. Happily, it was the soprano Evan brought with him and as soon as the two start to play they entwine - taking off in a double helix of keys and reed primed for endless reconfiguration. Space warps under the velocity of playing, the pitch rising unrelentingly. It felt like unending lift off in the room, sheer energy until the last note makes remember your feet have been on the floor the whole time. Total time bending shredding.

–

"They had never played together before. They had never even met each other before this springtime 2024 concert at London’s Café Oto.

Evan Parker, circular breathing maestro of the saxophone, a legend in the universe that is Free Improvisation since the late 1960s and Bill Nace, one of the most intriguing experimental “noise” guitarists of the 1990s/2000s underground scene.

For those of us who have been enamored by the live and documented work of both these gents, this Café Oto duo was a must-hear event. It could have gone anywhere musically and that would have been totally fine. Particularly with Evan having a history of being thrown into a variety of challenging collaborations throughout his career, employing the learned elegance of trust in his own sensitivity to listening, responding, leading, following, sparring, intertwining, dialoguing, creating in the instant and, essentially, dignifying the non-hierarchical grace of chance.

The aesthetics of socialist consideration in Evan Parker’s playing, in his community of expanded and personal technique, for a younger player such as Bill Nace, strikes an exemplary model. This notion of respect would be entirely the reason Nace, when offered a residency at the most critical “new music” room in England, would request to play in duo with Parker.

Bill Nace came to prominence mostly during the apex of experimental music activity in and around Western Massachusetts in the early days of the aughts, with a focus on visual art and free improvisation guitar action. He could be found in the daytime hours, his head hanging down over a notepad, penning fine-tuned illustrations and abstract line drawings, while in the evenings he’d be attending any number of basement noise gigs, many of which he’d be participating in. His guitar style came across as being informed as much as by the physicality of his writing utensils in friction to the page as it was to his hearing and redefining of radical recordings ranging anywhere from the Black Unity Group to Black Flag.

Utilizing various metal files and other small cylindrical objects Bill would allow his guitar and amplifier to be in tandem with the improvisatory movements of his body as the instrument balanced, intentionally and, at times, precariously, upon his lap. The performances came across thrilling and daring and they would be mostly in the context of venues nothing more than a low-ceilinged damp and dank New England basement, a clutch of people hanging onto rusty pipes or sitting up on dilapidated washer/dryer machines, the shards of Bill’s “file guitar” sounds ringing out like the most alive music on Earth.

By the time Bill reached Café Oto in early 2024 he had relocated to Philadelphia all the while releasing a succession of collaborative LPs on his Open Mouth label to present his developing progression of solo and collaborative work. He also would find himself considerably engaged with playing the electric taishōgoto, a keyboard-activated string instrument from Japan which can exist as a one, two, four, five, or six string oblong sound object. Bill’s approach to the taishōgoto would not be too unlike his approach to the traditional electric guitar, though no outboard implements such as files, sticks, and rocks are utilized. The similarity would lie wholly with Bill’s full immersion of high velocity action-playing where, with the taishōgoto, an electric drone beauty occurs. The flurry of sonics and resultant harmonics emanating from the amplifier (which Bill opts to dial into with borderline loud-as fuck volume settings) furthers the meta-mantra properties of the instrument in an astounding display of drone dynamism.

This sound world of Bill’s two-stringed taishōgoto on this Café Oto night worked beautifully with Evan Parker’s improvisatory saxophone conceptions. The duology achieved instant lift off at ground zero only to find it’s eventual finale as if it were organically ordained. Time seemingly morphed from its ancient human construct of control, rendered inconsequential to the torrential transcendence of the room wildly activated by the magic resonance of the multi-directional pan-spatial sonance of the music as if it were some beatific blessing. It was one of those nights where art as a liberating force of spirit gifted the listeners with an offering of exaltation and joy. It was entirely mystical and mind blowing. A night of Total Music."

Thurston Moore, London, 2025