Buscar:other mirror

Young Gun Silver Fox are the captains of AM Waves, setting sail towards an isle where melodies soak the shoreline and grooves sway like palm trees. Their route traces a natural progression fromWest End Coast, an album that cast Andy Platts (Young Gun) and Shawn Lee (Silver Fox) as musical virtuosos of SoCal-infused pop. AM Waves does more than duplicate the perfection of West End Coast. It improves it.

Recorded at The Shop in London and Roffey Hall in the English countryside, AM Waves burnishes the blend between the duo's modern aesthetic and their sumptuously crafted homage to '70s-styled pop, rock, and soul. "This music hits a certain spot for me personally that nothing else quite does," says Shawn, who produced the album amidst his projects for Saint Etienne, Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra, and several other acts. "It's real high-caliber music. It's easy and breezy to listen to but it's really hard to make. Every aspect is A game."

The A game behind AM Waves fuels 43 minutes of Young Gun Silver Fox in peak form. "AM Waves is much more instinctive," says Andy, whose penchant for writing irresistible hooks and melodies also shapes his role as lead singer and lyricist/composer for the band Mamas Gun. "It's more vivid. You can see the clarity to the colors of AM Waves whereas West End Coast is slightly more impressionist, as it were."

Originally issued as a single in September 2017, "Midnight in Richmond" is the anchor of AM Waves. "I hit one chord, which I'd never played before, and the song sort of wrote itself," notes Shawn. "It was intuitive. In many ways, the primary function of what I'm doing is trying to find that chord that opens a door and takes you someplace else. Those chords have magic." Andy embellishes the song's appeal by nimbly juxtaposing wistful emotions with a sun-kissed melody, his voice evoking richly drawn memories. The qualities that make "Midnight in Richmond" an instant classic abound throughout the album.

"Lenny" and "Take It or Leave It" spotlight Andy's versatility as a songwriter. The former was inspired by a dream he had where Lenny Kravitz owned a bar. "It was surreal," he says. "He was polishing the glasses and just serving me hit after hit." Like swimming through moonshine, Andy languorously savors every syllable in the song. "Take It or Leave It" is pure pop bliss. "That was one of those songs that fell out in half an hour," he says. "I had everything and it was done." Shawn adds, "It's such a perfect song in itself. When I listen to it, it's like you've created a record that already existed."

Young Gun Silver Fox introduce a five-piece horn section on "Underdog" that literally trumpets the song's protagonist. Shawn affectionately dubbed them the "Seaweed Horns" in honor of the Seawind Horns, an LA-based unit that recorded with powerhouses like Michael Jackson,Rufus & Chaka Khan,and Earth, Wind & Fire during the late-'70s. Andy explains, "The horns grab another hue of the west coast sound, which is the starting point, but it's also maybe the point where we're injecting a little bit more of ourselves and some outside colors into the familiar west coast palette."

A bounty of treasures course through AM Waves' ebb and flow. "Mojo Rising," which the duo penned with Rob Johnson, is a veritable retreat to paradise. "Sky-bound, heaven sent / Way above the clouds watching shootingstars descend," Andy sings, mirroring the music's celestial undertones. Sensuality contours the notes on "Just a Man," a song that basks in the allure of a woman who leaves "footprints on the water" while "Love Guarantee" is festooned with the Seaweed Horns. "I wanted to bring more of that R&B slickness into the mix," Shawn notes about the latter track. "We hadn't done a tune with that sort of groove." Similar to his work on "Underdog," Nichol Thomson's intricate horn arrangement on "LoveGuarantee"exemplifies another distinction between AM Waves and its predecessor.

"Caroline" occupies a special place on AM Waves, beyond spawning the album title. It tells the story of Radio Caroline, a pirate radio station that broadcast from an offshore vessel during the '60s and '70s. "They played the music that kids wanted to hear, whether it was the old stuff or cutting edge stuff," says Andy. "'Caroline' is about Radio Caroline's eventual capture." Complementing Andy Platts' deft wordplay, which draws parallels between radio airwaves and the station's literal home on the ocean, Shawn Lee layers nearly a dozen different parts on "Caroline," showcasing the vastness of his musicality. "I loved that track as soon as I heard it," Andy continues. "It's a beautiful fusion of me and Shawn."

The Seaweed Horns joinYoung Gun Silver Foxas they detour to the dance floor on "Kingston Boogie." Shawn explains the track's genesis, "I was thinking, what have we not done yet We definitely should get an AOR disco thing happening. I quite like disco. The beat is so metronomic that it allows you to be really sophisticated on top. 'Kingston Boogie' just laid itself out. I call it 'midnight disco.'" With a nod to "Lenny," Andy Platts sets "Kingston Boogie" back at Lenny's Bar, this time revealing a detail or two about its mysterious proprietor as he pours sweet wine and moonshine.

In a sense, AM Waves ends with the beginning. Even before there was Young Gun Silver Fox, there was "Lolita," the first song Andy Platts and Shawn Lee wrote together and a crowd-pleasing staple of the duo's live sets. The tale of a femme fatale who harbors a secret was recorded for West End Coast but instead furnished the B-side to "Long Way Back" as well as a bonus track on the North American edition of the album. Despite the song's checkered trajectory, its infectious chorus sparked the brighter, more buoyant orientation of AM Waves.

Like the moon pulling the tide, Young Gun Silver Fox are a magnet for good songs. "We're both so obsessed and constantly interested in music-making," says Andy. "We're both thinking about it all the time. When you know you have an accomplice with you that's the same as you, it's very liberating. Suddenly, worlds of color start to appear." Indeed, AM Waves is elemental in its power to induce pleasure. Dive right in.

Christian John Wikane

(New York City / February 2018)

Unlike anything we have heard from her before, Okkyung Lee returns to Shelter Press with "Just Like Any Other Day: Background Music For Your Mundane Activities", a deeply intimate body of recordings at the juncture of ambient music, minimalism, and the baroque, that stands as radical intervention with what experimental music can be, and the place that organisations of sound occupy in our lives. For more than two decades, Okkyung Lee has stood at the forefront of the most radical trajectories of experimental music: a virtuosic cellist and improviser, renowned for her creative rigour and emotive depth. Particularly noteworthy for her range, dexterity, and adaptability, over the last five years Lee's output has revealed unexpected shifts and developments that move far afield from the realms of free improvisation for which she is most well known. 2020's "Yeo - Neun", a heart-wrenching, ambient chamber work - drawing inspiration from the Korean popular music of her youth - was issued by Shelter Press to great critical response, followed closely by "Teum (The Silvery Slit)" - one of a series engrossing electroacoustic works created at Groupe de Recherches Musicales in Paris - on Portraits GRM, and then "Na-Reul" in 2021, regarded by Lee as a closing statement of more than two decades living in New York, which set the precedent of her allowing her emotions to fully occupy the forefront of the music for the first time. Marking her return to Shelter press, "Just Like Any Other Day": Background Music For Your Mundane Activities", encounters Lee upturning the apple cart once again, weaving a profoundly intimate artistic statement on completely unexpected terms. Like its three aforementioned predecessors, "Just Like Any Other Day" belongs to broadening shift in Lee's approach to composing that roughly aligns with her return to her native South Korea, having lived in the United States since her late teens. Infused with a deep reengagement with her own culture and relationship to memory, it is equally a response to those critical challenges and questions provoked by significant life change. Worked on in isolation, and continuously returned to, over the course of four years, the album's nine pieces began with a simple recognition that experimental music is not always what we imagine it to be. It is a practice and a pursuit - a music for which, at its inception, the outcome is unknown - rather than an idiom defined by certain syntaxes, approaches, and qualities of structure and sound. From this departure point, Lee began to inquire after the utility of music itself: what is it for, what does it do, and what place does it (or can it) occupy in our lives? This solitary and durational journey, each composition gradually moving through different phases and evolutions over years, led Lee toward uncharted ground: a music that is not only playful, introspective, and seductive, but also intended to provoke a relationship to experimental music beyond its normative expectations. Rather active or deep listening, it pursues passive listening. Rather than a grand statement, it is discreet. Rather than virtuosity, it embraces the elegant and direct. Even more strikingly, for the first time, the music of "Just Like Any Other Day" encounters Lee leaving the cello entirely behind. Created at home on keyboard, computer, and an inexpensive cassette recorder, "Just Like Any Other Day" presents a remarkable form of ambient music - organisations of sound that become their own environment, to be occupied - intended, as the album's subheading infers, as Background Music For Your Mundane Activities. An expansion of the creative pathways opened by the Korean pop imbued compositions of Yeo - Neun, aspects of electronic process explored by "Teum (The Silvery Slit)", and the emotive foregrounding of "Na-Reul", each of the pieces presented across the two sides of "Just Like Any Other Day" implies something far greater than the limits of its own temporarily: a mood, provocations of memory and place, mirrors for the solitude within which it was made, and palpable emotion lingering just out of grasp. For Lee, each of the album's compositions could be continued or looped for an indeterminate duration: straddling a ground between the minimal and the baroque, enveloping the listener in endless cycles of appreciating, repetitive and rhythmical notes, flirting with the melodic and implying a disembodied imagism that borders on the profound. Remarkably beautiful and direct, Okkyung Lee's "Just Like Any Other Day: Background Music For Your Mundane Activities" - issued by Shelter Press on vinyl - represents a radical reconfiguration of experiential music, stripped to its bare essence in defiance of the widely presumed aesthetic signifiers. Unlike anything we've heard from her before, this immersive body of intimate recordings not only reveals new dimensions of Lee's striking range as an artist, but also of how we might regard and occupy music itself: an ambience to lived and felt like a second skin.

Returning to Die Schachtel with his fourth full-length with the label, the Genoa born, Bologna based, guitarist and electroacoustic composer, Stefano Pilia, delivers “Lacinia”, a new, immersive cycle of compositions, delving deeper into the realm of metaphysical, spiritual, and divine meaning, weaving astounding arrangements of sonority from a palette of synths, strings, brass, organ, various electroacoustic instruments, and percussion. Resting at a refined intersection of the acoustic and electroacoustic, drone, and chamber music - overwhelmingly beautiful, delicate, and bold, - “Lacinia” stands as a high-water mark in Pilia’s already remarkable and forward-looking career.

Since its founding in Milan during the early years of the new millennium, Die Schachtel has occupied a singular place in the landscape of experimental music, issuing a carefully curated body of reissues and archival releases by historically significant figures and projects like Christina Kubisch, Luciano Cilio, Marino Zuccheri, Prima Materia, Claudio Rocchi, Lino Capra Vaccina, Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, Roland Kayn, and numerous others, balanced against bristling contemporary counterparts by the likes of Jim O'Rourke, Giovanni Di Domenico, Nicola Ratti, Luigi ArchettI, Valerio Tricoli, etc. Running like a spine through the label’s output is a deep dedication to the work of the Italian guitarist and electroacoustic composer Stefano Pilia. Now Die Schachtel returns with “Lacinia”, Pilia’s forth full-length with the label and their first release of 2024. Building on the ground of deeply personal engagement with metaphysical, spiritual, and divine meaning, explored within his previous LP with Die Schachtel, 2022’s “Spiralis Aurea”, “Lacinia” encounters the composer working in close calibration with various ensembles, including the Bologna based Ensemble Concordanze and Comunale di Bologna String Orchestra, weaving synths, strings, brass, organ, various electroacoustic instruments, and percussion into an astounding reconfiguration of immersive, contemporary minimalism that stands among Pilia’s most noteworthy releases to date. Issued by Die Schachtel in two special double vinyl editions and a CD edition, “Lacinia” features artwork by Bruno Stucchi/Dinamomilano, and is an absolute marvel that draws you in and doesn’t let go.

First emerging during the early 2000s, over the past two decades – via solo releases and numerous collations with artists like Oren Ambarchi, Valerio Tricoli, Alessandra Novaga, Z'EV, Andrea Belfi, David Grubbs, and numerous others - the Genoa born, Bologna based, guitarist and electroacoustic composer, Stefano Pilia has presented a singular voice within Italian experimental music, harnessing visceral energy and hands-on immediacy within delicately woven tapestries of sonority, each investigating the sculptural properties of sound and illuminating its relationship to space, memory, and the suspension of time. “Lacinia”, Pilia’s forth solo venture with Die Schachtel, encounters the composer reentering his longstanding practice of collaboration with various ensemble forms, including the Bologna based Ensemble Concordanze, for the albums central piece, “Lacinia Off Axis”, spinning stunning string confirmations by Pietro David Carami and Elena Maury on violin, Alessandro Savio on viola, and Mattia Cipolli on cello.

A new, important cycle of compositions by Pilia, “Lacinia” (meaning "lace" in Latin) builds upon the exploration of the metaphysical, spiritual, and divine dimensions through numbers, geometry, and the creation of tonal forms explored by 2022’s “Spiralis Aurea”, mirroring archetypal, immutable forms at the juncture of the abstract realm of mathematics and architectural structures in the physical world, expands the poetics and compositional ideas featured in its predecessor. Regraded by Pilia as both a series of individual compositions and a single work, “Lacinia” was conceived to “define a circular path (a sort of "rhizomatic lace") where the beginning and end touch, suggesting the concept of time not only as linear but also cyclical and ritualistic—an eternal return, a process of transformation where matter changes, its state changes, but without altering the invisible internal principle of mutation”, embarking upon a a series of “steps, degrees, and energetic quanta in a progression of archetypal whole numbers and transcendent creation.”

The resulting 16 tracks unfold as a series of complex sonic meditations. While deeply resonant with the minimalism of composers like Arvo Pärt, LaMonte Young, Pauline Oliveros, and Eliane Radigue, Pilia digs deep and moves far beyond the predictable tonal relationships and structures of that idiom, echoing the ancient liturgical and devotional music of composers like Gesualdo da Venosa, Monteverdi, and John Dowland, at a refined intersection of the acoustic and electroacoustic, drone, and chamber music.

Fascinatingly structured as a whole to include a number of motif returns, across which we encounter works like “Lacinia Off Axis” appearing in slightly different rendering, states, or evolutions three times, and compositions like “Eve” appearing twice in subtly different forms and arrangements - first for four oscillators, guitar and voice and then for string orchestra - as well “Maris Stella”, which similarly makes two appearances, first for horn trio, organ and percussion, and then for string orchestra, with “Lacinia” Pilia delves further into the world of chamber music than ever before, creating a deeply inward, mediative body of work the totality of which, guided by its rich string arrangements of arching, sorrowful tone, feels almost like a mass for some unproclaimed loss; simultaneously locked in the nuances of a moment, while managing to suspend time.

Perhaps most remarkable is Pilia's ability to create a remarkable sense of sonic cohesion while using such a varied number of ensembles and instrumentation. From the sprawling string arrangements delivered by Comunale di Bologna String Orchestra, under the direction of Paolo Mancini, and Ensemble Concordanze, and a flute trio (Cadux / Plectere) brilliantly played by Manuel Zurria, to pieces for sax, organ and percussion, violin duo and percussion, organ and percussion, Pilia manages to create a sense of singular, encompassing world that flows forward like a shifting stream.

Overwhelmingly beautiful, delicate, and bold, “Lacinia” is unquestionably a high-water mark in Stefano Pilia’s already remarkable, forward-looking career. Nothing short of a marvel of contemporary Minimalism that, through its shifting arrangements of harmonics, tonality, and texture draws flickering images of ancient forms of music into the present day, “Lacinia” is Issued by Die Schachtel in two special editions on double vinyl and a CD edition, featuring artwork by Bruno Stucchi/Dinamomilano. This is an immersive all-consuming listen that can’t be missed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




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

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


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


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


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


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

Toko's in-house all-star Si Brad brings forth three fresh jams for the long running UK institution, ensuring record bags are festival fit and nightclub-ready for party season.

Opening with a glitzy, contemporary disco jam, 'Doublestar' provides wide-screen glitterball action with a dazzling instrumental track, busy with key changes and chord progressions that'd make Patrick Adams blush. Sure to have fellow peers like Another Taste and Perpetual Singers checking their wing mirrors, the track is rich with musical decadence - orchestral strings, punchy synth licks and frenetic live bass all shining through this highly dynamic arrangement.

'Compress' moves swiftly into beefy house territory; Si's patented full fat, cushion soft bottom end providing just the low frequency support for a wide array of warehouse-ready bleeps, vocal snips and rave motifs set to cause a whole manner of chaos and confusion come 2AM in the club. A master of functional intricacy, Brad's multi-layered compositions thread together more elements than other producers would care to consider, manifesting almost effortless and involuntary body movement which belies the complexity of the track and is sure to have the dancefloor in a spin.

Concluding with a beautiful piece of Balearic-boogie-beatdown, and with Attaboy muscling in on proceedings; 'Faro Sunset's dreamy and expansive moods cascade over a loose, conga-laden groove glued to the spot with a rugged b-line. Instantly conjuring memories of grilled calamari and poolside play, and sure to garner repeat plays across the familiar party paradises of the Adriatics and beyond; it finds the crew dialling into a deliciously languid vibe that's in contrast to the immediate urgency of the preceding tracks yet retains, assuredly, the sonic trademarks of the producer's hand.

Another unmissable addition to Toko's storied catalogue!

“When forty, I was still wearing miniskirts, extravagant patterns, pink, fluorescent colours, star shaped earrings. I walked around with my leopardskin hat, my fluffy bag, my floral outfit, until the gaze of others made me feel like it was not age appropriate anymore. Although I am still the same person I was at 16. It's the others I see changing."
There's no better way to describe ageing than through the gap that arises and continues to grow between physical reality and the specular image of the self : one deteriorates over time, exposed to the cruel laws of gravity and oxydation, while the other never ages, remaining intact and unaltered… frozen in a moment of blissfulness. The more time goes by the more the gap becomes a separate entity (ou “world” pour etre plus prosaïque). It can become so painful that many try to escape it, using and abusing every trickery.
“Youth looks so good on you” is a sonic ballad which bizarrely explores the world that lies between reality and self-fantasy, a world where the aesthetic cult of youth becomes sovereign to the people.
This piece was produced in 2022 as part of the Festival « Les Heures Sauvages - Nef des Marges dans l'ombre des certitudes », at the Centre Wallonie-Bruxelles in Paris.
After "A Story of a Global Disease" in 2022, "Youth looks so good on you" is the second piece of music by Naomie Klaus released on moli del tro records.

Since 2006, listeners have been curious about the origin of the label name Italians Do It Better. Some say it's an homage to Italo Disco, others guess it's related to ancestry, but in fact it's a nod to the iconic T-shirt Madonna wears in the "Papa Don't Preach" video circa 1986.
Fast forward to a world pandemic... To encourage creativity & lift spirits, Italians Do It Better President, Megan Louise asked every artist “If you could cover your favourite Madonna song…What would it be?”

As a tribute to their label muse & the impact Madonna’s music has had on the world around us, Italians Do It Better are sharing a compilation of covers simply titled “Italians Do It Better”. One of the tracks (“Lucky Star” by Club Intl) is even produced by Max Kamins, the son of Mark Kamins, the New York DJ who helped break Madonna in the early 1980's. From the experience he says “Dance music was the soundtrack of my early childhood. Working on "Lucky Star" reconnected me not only to my father, but also reminded me that a good song is timeless".

Executive produced by Johnny Jewel, the compilation is a passport to 20 covers from the bedrooms of 19 artists across 10 different countries.

Ken Jacobs, an essential figure of avant-garde cinema, developed the »Nervous Magic Lantern« in the 1960s — a self-made apparatus containing a spinning shutter, a light source, and lenses set in a wooden frame. Hand-painted circular slides, gently moved by hand, produce flickering imagery: geometric patterns, Rorschach-like inkblots, and three-dimensional forms that seem to float beyond the screen. These hallucinatory visions challenge perception and suggest what Jacobs once called »a whole new play of appearances«.

Unlike Jacobs’ politically charged works, the »Nervous Magic Lantern« is patently abstract, examining how the brain regulates perception. For these performances, Jacobs requested »sounds of daily life« — environmental recordings that anchor the phantasmagoria in reality. Field tapes of Chinatown streets, conversations, and other uncategorisable sounds became the material for Aki Onda’s sonic compositions, adding narrative resonance to the abstract visuals and creating an almost documentary dimension.

This album documents a performance of »Nervous Magic Lantern« at Spiral Hall, organised by Sound Live Tokyo on November 3, 2015. Jacobs’ selection and sequencing of slides offered improvisatory space, mirrored by Onda’s flexible arrangement of cassette recordings. The result is a work where life and art dissolve into one another — a soundtrack for life in the depth of illusion.

Music by Aki Onda Cassette field recordings by Ken Jacobs

Marja Ahti is a Swedish artist living in Turku, Finland. She works with found sounds, objects and electronics, creating auditory assemblages that reveal a profound sensitivity to sound’s tactile potential. This new record sees her palette expand to include more recognisable acoustic instrumentation, albeit working in collaboration with musicians who are already reconfiguring how those instruments can sound.

Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth has its roots in a tape piece presented at Lampo in Chicago. Ahti then started working with Isak Hedtjärn (clarinet), Ryan Packard (percussion) and My Hellgren (cello) at the electronic music studios (EMS) in Stockholm. Incorporating recordings from those sessions, Ahti presented a new iteration of the work at the Seventh Edition Festival for Other Music in February 2024 with the trio performing live on stage whilst Ahti helmed the mixing desk, spatialising a specially made tape part through the INA GRM’s Acousmonium speaker orchestra. The piece has since gone through several further iterations before arriving at the version we have here on the LP's B-side where immense bass pressure and high frequency tones buffer restless amplified breath and scrape that folds over itself with extraordinary dynamics and subterranean activity before giving way to gorgeous resonant forms and passages of ritual purpose and sheer, unmistakeable beauty.

The A-side is Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth’s gentle double. Still Life with Poppies, Mirror and Two Clouds offers a companion reconfiguration of Ahti’s resynthesised percussion sustain and the same recordings of Hedtjärn and Hellgren from EMS, but here they’re nestled in a sonic landscape of calm and restraint that gives them a wholly other character. Ahti also draws on older recordings she’d made of Sholto Dobie’s diy pipe organs and uses these to create repeating patterns and flourishes of sliding pitches that emerge unexpected out of cycling passages of Ahti’s clear struck metal, destabilising electronic interventions and minimal piano figures.

Marja Ahti: “I’ve been fascinated with the kind of elemental quality the sounds I'm using have such as airy sounds or earthy, wooden sounds. These qualities can also be found in wind instruments and percussion and the musicians I worked with on Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth are really good at enhancing these qualities in their playing. I wanted to have this connection between found sounds, field recordings, or pre-recorded sounds, objects, and material, and see where these sounds might meet each other, and hopefully blend is a natural way without a divide between instrumental music, or acoustic music, or electronic music. But also, when you bring in people they come with their personalities and their ideas which is also energizing and brings surprising things into the collaboration that I couldn't come up with myself. I was really interested in making this a proper collaboration and not just coming up with the piece and giving it to them. We had the sessions at EMS where we could share ideas and Isak, Ryan and My could bring in their own ideas. Making recordings there gave me time to process these ideas and to also approach them in the same way that I would work with any other sound.”

Crafted for the depths of the club, the album pulses with raw analog energy - warm, gritty, and immersive. Each track is designed to resonate through concrete walls, blurring time and space, guiding listeners through dark corners and waves of bass.
But Lost Echoes goes beyond the dancefloor. It's a journey into the invisible - a sonic excavation of forgotten memories and buried emotions. Some echoes are loud and shaping, others faint whispers lost in the flow of time. This album revives them, layer by layer, melody by melody.
A deeply personal and physical experience, Lost Echoes invites you to dive into sound, movement, and memory - to lose yourself and perhaps find something long forgotten.

For their inaugural release, London-based Vysyon presents Mercuri: an enchanting EP of enigmatic techno featuring work by Swiss artists Varuna & Mateo Hurtado. Having developed their brand of abyssal club music through releases on Amenthia Recordings & their own imprint A Walking Contradiction, Varuna dive into the void on 'Remote Pulsar'. Driven by a disorientating polyrhythm cloaked in opaque atmospherics, the trio's otherworldly approach to sound design is on full display. By contrast, the pounding 4/4 kick & propulsive acid bass of 'Uvez Echos' entrance the listener into a state of dancefloor reverie. Mateo Hurtado casts his own unique magic over the flip, showcasing his archetypal mystic sound established via an album on Annulled music & remixes for Space Drum Meditation. The mesmerising flute melody of 'An Invisible Fire, Working In Secret' casts a spell of hypnosis, while the flowing, amorphous pads & twisted bass of 'The Eternal Mirror' conjure visions of worlds unknown.

A“This album is about what it means to be human, and its creation is my offering. I attempt to tell a tale of the human experience in the reflection of my own.”

‘In the Andean mythology, condors are believed to be immortal. It is said that once they feel old, without energy, and useless, they climb to the highest peak and let themselves fall to death.’

The Allegorist is a visionary, enigmatic, transmedia, and boundary-pushing artist known for crafting deep, immersive dark sonic tales. Embracing a wide array of influences, weaving together the mysteries, art and spirituality, the art project defies categorisation, resonating with those who seek the unconventional.

From Birth Until Death is an introspective and immersive concept album that reflects on the essence of the human experience. Crafted over six years by The Allegorist (aka Anna Jordan), the album traces the arc of life—from its fragile beginnings to its inevitable end—using sound art to explore existential and philosophical terrain. Inspired by the Andean mythology of the condor – a symbol of immortality – the album blends electronic soundscapes with raw field recordings, evoking a deep sense of connection between the natural world and human existence.

The album’s progression mirrors the stages of life, starting with the birth of new beginnings and culminating in death, with each track offering a unique reflection on the moments in between. From the dynamic energy of Momentum, to the ethereal, illusionary world of Fata Morgana, the tracks guide the listener through emotions, perceptions, and experiences that shape the human condition.

A distinctive feature of From Birth Until Death is its intricate production. The album incorporates field recordings from Grunewald Forest, a distant roar of a jet, barking dogs, blending the sounds of nature – footsteps in the snow, birdsong, ocean waves – with layered synthesisers and electronic beats. The bass and ambient textures are crafted using an array of analog hardware, while all vocals, both lead and backing, are performed and recorded by Jordan. Some of the vocal takes were intentionally left raw, capturing the spontaneous energy of early recordings, while others were re-recorded to balance the album’s organic yet polished feel. Each element is meticulously crafted, revealing its deeper meaning as the album unfolds like a multidimensional, living sculpture.

At its core, From Birth Until Death is a meditation on the full spectrum of life. The album’s title track, From Birth Until Death, encapsulates this journey, reflecting on the passage of time and the unique experience of being human. The final track, Death, offers a melancholic yet beautiful exploration of endings, not as finalities, but as moments in the grand cycle of life. With its combination of evocative sound design and deeply personal themes, From Birth Until Death invites listeners to contemplate their own lives, offering a moving experience of reflection, growth, and transformation.

About From Birth Until Death
Words By Robin Rimbaud (Scanner)

From Birth Until Death is a deeply personal and reflective album and beautifully crafted. A detailed listen reveals that Jordan was in search of a profoundly human and authentic expression. In an era when so much around us seems defined by speed, Anna Jordan, aka The Allegorist, stands apart – aware that skimming the surface of life is neither sufficient nor rewarding. She reminds us of the value of deep, authentic listening.

The track Andean Condor seductively draws us into a smoky, blurred rhythmic soundscape, capturing the essence of the darkest Berlin nightclub, while Birth pulses with an almost shamanic transformation of sound, moving from the organic to the musical. It features a recording of Jordan’s footsteps in the snow in Grunewald Forest, Germany.

At times, the music feels almost sculptural in shape and tone – lifting, pushing, lilting, opening, and closing – where each piece is given room to fully develop. Many of the works blend synthetic sound with the natural, incorporating the human voice alongside environmental recordings: the wild waves of the ocean, a jet flying overhead, and barking dogs.

With From Birth Until Death, Jordan, like an alchemical architect revealing in the process of getting lost and relinquishing control, leaves us with a taut, immersive soundtrack in which to lose ourselves.

About the album ‘From Birth Until Death’
words by The Allegorist

“The album From Birth Until Death did not come easily to me. I started working on it in 2019, and it underwent many alterations over the years. I produced multiple versions of the tracks each year, but the album name, the track titles, and the album cover art stayed the same for 6 years. Not everything I did fit into the album’s final form, but I hope the heavy selection just made it better. I played this piece live in my techno live set between 2019 and 2020, and in the years after, I performed different art, ambient, and vocal versions of it, most notably the one at the church St. Marienkirche in Berlin in 2022. It just wanted to live and didn’t want to be finished. As I aged, this album aged with me. And now I’m ready to let it go.”

This 2-LP set brings together both volumes of Fred Steiner and The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s recordings of music from the original Star Trek TV series, featuring score cues from classic episodes like The Trouble With Tribbles, By Any Other Name, The Doomsday Machine, and many more. Pressed on Translucent Clear vinyl, the set comes in a gatefold jacket featuring brand-new art from acclaimed illustrator Malachi Ward.

Balmat 17 marks both a return and a new frontier. It is the second album on the label from Patricia Wolf, whose 2022 album See-Through is one of the most beloved in Balmat’s catalog; it also marks the first time that Wolf has turned her hand to a film soundtrack. The results are every bit as magical as fans of the Portland, Oregon, composer’s music might expect.

Hrafnamynd—Icelandic for “raven film”—is a new feature-length documentary by experimental filmmaker Edward Pack Davee. Shot on a mix of film and digital formats, and incorporating his father’s Ektachrome slides from the 1970s, the autobiographical film works on multiple levels at once: a reminiscence of his childhood in Iceland, an exploration of landscape and folklore, and a documentary study of the island nation’s ravens—including a talking raven named Krummi.

Wolf is the perfect artist to score such an unusual film. Mixing ambient music and field recording—including extensive experience documenting bird song—Wolf brings an unusually empathic perspective to her music. In the context of Hrafnamynd, her airy melodies, pensive atmospheres, and vivid textures intuitively complement the film’s grainy film stock and blown-out colors. Friends for years, the two artists further bonded when Wolf asked Pack to film music videos for her songs “Woodland Encounter” (from See-Through) and “The Culmination Of” (from I'll Look For You In Others). Pack used Wolf’s previously recorded music as placeholders as he began assembling a rough cut of the film, which made her a natural choice to help him complete his idiosyncratic vision with an all-new, bespoke score.

But Wolf’s soundtrack also indisputably stands alone as a full-length album. Largely created using the UDO Super 6 synthesizer, it features a carefully distilled palette of warm, string-like pads and darkly glistening mallets, rounded out with the very occasional introduction of nylon string guitar. Musically and stylistically, the album’s 11 tracks represent both a continuation of the ruminative sound of See-Through and also an extension into new expressive modes. Few musicians, ambient or otherwise, are as skilled at balancing melody with atmosphere, or at finding ways to eke fresh at finding ways to eke fresh, surprising sounds out of an intentionally reduced toolkit. Meditative, immersive, and emotionally generous Wolf’s Hrafnamynd soundtrack evokes a range of ambient classics from decades past while confidently marking out its own verdant patch of ground.


Artist’s Statement:
Edward and I have been friends for years, but we really started to get to know one another better after I hired him to make music videos for my songs “Woodland Encounter” and “The Culmination Of.” For those projects we got to spend a lot of time hiking in various locations around the Pacific Northwest with his camera, very nice lenses, and tripod. Keeping quiet, hidden, and vigilant we searched for wildlife, good light on the trees, meadows, lakes, rivers, and skies. Edward was already an appreciator of my music and I was already in awe of his filmmaking talents so it felt like a great fit. Although we work in different areas of art our styles compliment one another. We both tend toward slow and careful pacing, with a focus on emotion and introspective reflections on life and the landscapes around us. For this reason, Iknew that I could trust Edward to create videos for my music. We saw so many beautiful and unexpected things on our filming days, but I was moved to tears once I saw how magnificent and poetic it all was. His video work from the cinematography, to the editing, and color correction helped bring my inner vision to life.

A few months after that, Edward surprised me with an invitation to work on the soundtrack for his new film, Hrafnamynd. I enthusiastically said yes. I had always wanted to work on a film, and I knew that his filmmaking style would be inspiring to write music for. I had recently acquired an UDO Super 6 synthesizer but hadn't used it much. I decided that this would be the synth that I'd use for the film. It has the ability to sound very modern, but can also sound so warm and fuzzy, like a synth from the 1970s. It turned out to be the perfect instrument for this project as the film itself straddles time from the ’70s to today.

When Edward sent me the rough cut of the film, he used placeholder music to help give me an idea of the emotion and energy that he was hoping to achieve for each scene. For many of the scenes, Edward used music from my albums as temporary tracks. This told me that he trusted my work and style and therefore I should just trust my intuition with how to proceed. I wanted to make sure that everything that I made was a direct reflection of what was happening on screen, a mirror of its emotion and energy so people could really lock into the film psychologically. This process took my composing to unexpected places—like being led by a strange cat or a raven that seemed to have something to show me. I found that the approach made the music so much more dynamic than my usual style. I really enjoyed being influenced by the action and dialog on the screen. Thankfully, Edward was very happy with the work. I made sure to handle this project with the utmost care because this is about his life and his family, and an exploration of the experiences that made him an artist and filmmaker. While watching the film many times over, I found myself thinking about my own family and my early memories with them and how the place where I grew up has influenced who I have become. I found that his film invites the viewer to reflect on their own lives in a similar way. I hope that this music and film can guide others to contemplate on the history of their beingness and the people and places that shaped them.

Another aspect to this project is the splendor and wonder of Iceland itself. I had the opportunity to visit Iceland for the first time in 2023. I got to play a show there for the Extreme Chill Festival and met many friendly and brilliant Icelanders. I also got to collect field recordings that I used in the film. It's a fascinating place and culture that easily captures the hearts and imaginations of anyone who visits. Whether you spend your time in the city immersed in its impressive arts scene, or venture out into the wilderness to behold its wondrous landscape, it will leave a lasting impression. The soundtrack is also a love letter to Iceland itself.

White & Black Smash Vinyl. Drab Majesty's third album, Modern Mirror, is a journey of self-reflection, nostalgia, love, beauty, and heartbreak told across eight addictive and emotional synth pop anthems - a seemingly classic tale delivered unblinkingly through the frame of the modern world. Elements of classic tragedy weigh heavily in the reflection of Modern Mirror in songs like "The Other Side", possessing a fundamental sound that is energetic, luminous and hopeful. Fusing the sonic aesthetics of predecessors like New Order and The Cure within the cautious instruction of Greek mythology and modern science fiction, Drab Majesty has birthed a hybrid of dreamy malaise, captured for a future moment. The first single, "Ellipsis", romantically plays up the distorted concept of courting through modern technology in a world that has yet to adapt, while on "Long Division", Deb's resounding guitar cascades around the chorus shared with No Joy frontwoman Jasamine White-Gluz, wistfully warning us against our vanity and self-obsession. Even when hope for everlasting love peeks through in "Oxytocin", a sparkling and stoic track sung by Mona D., we are firmly reminded our fleeting existence. Produced by Josh Eustis (Telefon Tel Aviv) with appearances by Jasamine White-Gluz (No Joy) and Justin Meldal-Johnson (NIN, Beck, M83, Air).

For her second full-length as Plume Girl, Sowmya Somanath crafts a space where boundaries of language, feeling, and sound start to dissolve. ‘Unnameable Glory’ ruminates on the limits of expression, and the luminous freedom that emerges when we let go of the need to name. Elaborating on the exploratory songs of her debut, Plume Girl continues to bring together Hindustani classical improvisation, ambient soundscapes, and experimental pop.

Somanath’s voice—from gentle murmur to radiant call—guides the listener through dreamlike arrangements: sunrise guitar arpeggios, humming choirs, heartbeat kickdrums, and synths tremble. Elsewhere field sounds and old family recordings are collaged, a woman’s giggle transposed into a piano melody, a sloshing body of water mirrored by synth bleeps. Plume Girl conjures moments of revelation, drawing from the natural beauty and intuition, that unnameable glory.

Is there a divinity or a wholeness that exists beyond language, belief, or tradition? Unnameable Glory both celebrates and gently challenges the notion: Can we honour the creative richness of culture while also seeing through the divisions it creates? Can we meet the world—and each other—without assumption, without fear, with eyes made new? In these songs, the sacred is found not in grand gestures, but in the anonymous freedom of simply being: the iridescence of oil and water on a street, the smile of a stranger, the hush that settles by a creek.

At the heart of the album is a sense of curiosity and surrender—a willingness to listen without judgment, to let the moment be unnameable, to allow wonder to arise and dissolve. And yet, as Somanath notes, there’s an impulse to capture that’s tough to ignore; a need to replicate and remember. Unnameable Glory dwells in this tension: between holding and letting go, between the urge to define and the beauty of what cannot be contained. There is a quiet, revolutionary joy in simply living and sensing together. Music becomes a meeting place for the whole, the holy, and the unnamable.

New Environments & Rhythm Studies finds Andrew Pekler returning to the humid zones he explored on previous albums such as Sounds From Phantom Islands and Tristes Tropiques. Split between longer immersive compositions and shorter glimpse-like sketches, these 12 tracks feature new juxtapositions of Pekler's familiar palette of synthetic field recordings, warm, undulating electronic textures, shifting percussion patterns and serene melodies.

As with much of his recent work, Pekler's compositions here are structured around the beguiling effect of synthetic and non-synthetic sounds mirroring, mimicking and modulating one another. The teeming atmospheres within tracks such as Globestructures, Cymbals In The Mist or Globestructures: Option II are, despite their seemingly anthropogenic nature, entirely synthetic. Elsewhere, the lopsided grooves of Cumbia Para Los Grillos or Fabulation For K are derived from recordings of crickets and other insects which Pekler loops and uses to trigger electronic percussion – producing a pleasantly skewed rhythmic base for the fragments of melody which are layered on top. The six Rhythm Studies also follow the same principle – a playful interweaving of the organic and synthetic.

New Environments & Rhythm Studies is a further attempt to re-describe past tropes which laid claims to authentically represent music and sound from beyond the Western world (exotica, ethnomusicology, field recording) as undertakings of the imaginary.

Written and produced by Andrew Pekler, mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi, artwork by Morgan Cuinet, graphic design by Dmytro Nikolaienko.

Glasgow-based Effective Dreaming—the solo project of Scottish artist and musician Iain Ross—unveils Dream Catalogue Vol. 1, arriving June 21st, 2025 (Summer Solstice) via Swedish experimental label Fluere Tapes.

Issued as a limited run of 50 cassettes, each adorned with hand-worked, corroded copper sheet inserts and labels, Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 feels less like a release and more like an unearthed artefact: weathered, humming, quietly alive. The materials echo the music’s exploration of fragile impermanence and erosion: oxidised metal, magnetic tape, hiss, hum. A tactile world where sound wears its decay like a patina.

Across its length, the album unfolds in a series of flickering vignettes—drifting, dissolving, reappearing. Shaped by synths, environmental recordings, tape loops, and soft drones, the pieces move like glints of light on water—never fixed, always in motion. Achingly beautiful melodies rise and vanish, tracing fragile pathways through a landscape of shifting sensations. Some moments glow with a gentle warmth, like sunlit glass or breath on a fogged mirror. Others slip into shadow: slow, submerged passages feel closer to memory than music. The album feels loose and weightless, yet dense with feeling—a presence more sensed than held.

There is no fixed narrative here—only fragments and artefacts, half-remembered places, echoes of dreams. Each track hovers just at the edge of clarity, evoking not specific stories, but moods, textures, and the quiet drift of time. It’s music that feels both intimate and remote, like overhearing a distant signal only you can understand.

The name Effective Dreaming is drawn from Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Lathe of Heaven, where a dreamer's visions alter the very fabric of reality—past and present reshaped, histories rewritten, unnoticed by all but the dreamer himself. In a similar spirit, Ross’s music inhabits a space where memory, perception, and matter blur—where each sound carries the residue of something once real, now transformed and dissolving as one drifts through the seams of the world.

Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 is a meditation on texture, transience, and the quiet resonance of what slips away.

For listeners of: Wave Temples, Dolphins Into the Future, Guenther Schlienz"

Repress of 2018’s classic compilation from Brownswood.

A primer on London’s bright-burning young jazz scene, this new compilation brings together a collection of some of its sharpest talents. A set of nine newly-recorded tracks, We Out Here captures a moment where genre markers matter less than raw, focused energy. Looking at the album’s running order, it could easily serve as a name-checking exercise for some of London’s most-tipped and hardworking bands of the past couple of years. Recorded across three long, fruitful days in a North West London studio, the crossover between each of the groups speaks to the close-knit circles which make up the scene.

Surveying the way that London’s jazz-influenced music had spread outside of its usual spaces in recent years, this album bottles up some of the vital ideas emanating from that burgeoning movement. Giving a platform to a scene where mutual cooperation and a DIY spirit are second-nature, it’s a window into the wide-eyed future of London’s musical underground.

Ubiquitous, much-lauded saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings is the project’s musical director. His own recent projects span from South Africa-connected, spiritually-minded jazz players Shabaka and the Ancestors to Sons of Kemet, who match diasporically-connected compositions with viscerally-direct live shows. His entry on the album, ‘Black Skin, Black Masks’, is typically difficult-to-define: with an off-kilter, shifting rhythmic backbone, repeated phrases – mirrored between clarinet and bass clarinet – shape the track with an alluring hue. His input ties together a deft, genre-agnostic sensibility that’s shared through all the players on the record.

Theon Cross – who’s also part of Sons of Kemet with Hutchings – starts his track, ‘Brockley’, with the solo, distinctive low rumble of his tuba. Winding and mesmeric, it sees tuba and sax lines winding together in rhythmic and melodic parallels. Ezra Collective – whose drummer and bandleader Femi Koleoso has toured with Pharaohe Monch – run a tight, Afrobeat-tipped rhythm on ‘Pure Shade’, with the final third changing gear into a melodic, momentous closing stretch.

Joe Armon-Jones, whose ludicrous chops on the piano have seen him touring with the likes of Ata Kak, showcases earworm-like, insistent motifs on ‘Go See’, balanced with a playful, improvisatory approach with room for ad-libbing and solos a-plenty. Taking a softer tact than many of the other entries, Kokoroko – whose guitarist Oscar Jerome has been making waves with his solo material – spin a lyrical, steady-paced meditation on ‘Abusey Junction’, matching chanted vocals with gently-played guitar.

Nodding to spiritual jazz influences, Maisha’s ‘Inside The Acorn’ is a wandering, explorative rumination, balancing delicate washes of piano and percussion with sharp interplay between flute and bass clarinet. In contrast, Nubya Garcia’s ‘Once’ is taut and carefully-poised, her tenor sax guiding a carefully-built energy to an explosive conclusion. And finally, Triforce’s ‘Walls’ is a performance in two parts: starting with Mansur Brown’s languorous, lyrical guitar, the second half switches up to a low-slung, g-funk-tipped groove.

"JPEGMAFIA, a trailblazing force in experimental hip hop, releases his latest solo project, I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU. This album, his first since 2021, is a complex and innovative work that showcases his meticulous production skills. Featuring collaborations with Denzel Curry, Vince Staples, and Buzzy Lee, the album explores themes like capitalism, conscription, and propaganda through some of JPEGMAFIA’s most anarchic raps to date. The release is accompanied by an extensive global tour, reinforcing his status as one of the genre’s most incendiary talents. Since his last solo release, JPEGMAFIA has continued to push boundaries in the music industry, most notably with his 2023 collaboration with Danny Brown on Scaring the Hoes, which garnered critical acclaim and chart success. With I Lay Down My Life for You, JPEGMAFIA cements his reputation as a visionary artist, delivering a powerful commentary on the world through his unique lens. The album’s release is set to make a significant impact, both in stores and on stages worldwide."

Repress of 2018’s classic compilation from Brownswood.

A primer on London’s bright-burning young jazz scene, this new compilation brings together a collection of some of its sharpest talents. A set of nine newly-recorded tracks, We Out Here captures a moment where genre markers matter less than raw, focused energy. Looking at the album’s running order, it could easily serve as a name-checking exercise for some of London’s most-tipped and hardworking bands of the past couple of years. Recorded across three long, fruitful days in a North West London studio, the crossover between each of the groups speaks to the close-knit circles which make up the scene.

Surveying the way that London’s jazz-influenced music had spread outside of its usual spaces in recent years, this album bottles up some of the vital ideas emanating from that burgeoning movement. Giving a platform to a scene where mutual cooperation and a DIY spirit are second-nature, it’s a window into the wide-eyed future of London’s musical underground.

Ubiquitous, much-lauded saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings is the project’s musical director. His own recent projects span from South Africa-connected, spiritually-minded jazz players Shabaka and the Ancestors to Sons of Kemet, who match diasporically-connected compositions with viscerally-direct live shows. His entry on the album, ‘Black Skin, Black Masks’, is typically difficult-to-define: with an off-kilter, shifting rhythmic backbone, repeated phrases – mirrored between clarinet and bass clarinet – shape the track with an alluring hue. His input ties together a deft, genre-agnostic sensibility that’s shared through all the players on the record.

Theon Cross – who’s also part of Sons of Kemet with Hutchings – starts his track, ‘Brockley’, with the solo, distinctive low rumble of his tuba. Winding and mesmeric, it sees tuba and sax lines winding together in rhythmic and melodic parallels. Ezra Collective – whose drummer and bandleader Femi Koleoso has toured with Pharaohe Monch – run a tight, Afrobeat-tipped rhythm on ‘Pure Shade’, with the final third changing gear into a melodic, momentous closing stretch.

Joe Armon-Jones, whose ludicrous chops on the piano have seen him touring with the likes of Ata Kak, showcases earworm-like, insistent motifs on ‘Go See’, balanced with a playful, improvisatory approach with room for ad-libbing and solos a-plenty. Taking a softer tact than many of the other entries, Kokoroko – whose guitarist Oscar Jerome has been making waves with his solo material – spin a lyrical, steady-paced meditation on ‘Abusey Junction’, matching chanted vocals with gently-played guitar.

Nodding to spiritual jazz influences, Maisha’s ‘Inside The Acorn’ is a wandering, explorative rumination, balancing delicate washes of piano and percussion with sharp interplay between flute and bass clarinet. In contrast, Nubya Garcia’s ‘Once’ is taut and carefully-poised, her tenor sax guiding a carefully-built energy to an explosive conclusion. And finally, Triforce’s ‘Walls’ is a performance in two parts: starting with Mansur Brown’s languorous, lyrical guitar, the second half switches up to a low-slung, g-funk-tipped groove.

"JPEGMAFIA, a trailblazing force in experimental hip hop, releases his latest solo project, I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU. This album, his first since 2021, is a complex and innovative work that showcases his meticulous production skills. Featuring collaborations with Denzel Curry, Vince Staples, and Buzzy Lee, the album explores themes like capitalism, conscription, and propaganda through some of JPEGMAFIA’s most anarchic raps to date. The release is accompanied by an extensive global tour, reinforcing his status as one of the genre’s most incendiary talents. Since his last solo release, JPEGMAFIA has continued to push boundaries in the music industry, most notably with his 2023 collaboration with Danny Brown on Scaring the Hoes, which garnered critical acclaim and chart success. With I Lay Down My Life for You, JPEGMAFIA cements his reputation as a visionary artist, delivering a powerful commentary on the world through his unique lens. The album’s release is set to make a significant impact, both in stores and on stages worldwide."

Charlotte de Witte’s unrelenting single ‘No Division’ featuring XSALT drops digitally on May 29th while she plays six NYC shows in four days (vinyl on 6th June) – with different DJ sets across venues from small and intimate to big and uncompromising. The vinyl version (including the Original Mix and Instrumental Mix as a B-side) gets an early release and will be on sale at the shows.

Why the NYC connection? Says de Witte: ‘Launching this single while I’m in New York feels symbolic. There’s something about the city, its chaos, its diversity, its constant movement, that perfectly mirrors the spirit of ‘No Division’. It’s a place where differences collide and coexist.’

‘No Division’ is the second single from Charlotte’s eponymous long-awaited debut album (out November 7th). ‘This track is another chapter of my upcoming album, and like the others, it reflects a part of who I am. ‘No Division’ is both a call and a celebration. It’s a reminder of what’s possible when we lose ourselves in the music and come together on the same frequency. It reminds us that we are one.’

‘No Division’: Brimming with an overwhelming, penetrating techno power, this track demands our full attention, with spacey hoover sounds, piercingly hooky main theme, a classic organ sound and hissy robotic spoken vocal lyrics like ‘…cut the wire/break the system/fight the fire/no division…’ It’s a manifesto you can dance to. Charlotte de Witte has an agenda as well as making a killer track; ‘‘No Division’ comes from a place of unity and the understanding that when we come together through music, the barriers between us start to dissolve. It’s about erasing the invisible lines that separate us, whether cultural, emotional, or personal.’

XSALT was previously sampled by de Witte on her tracks ‘Overdrive’, ‘High Street’, ‘Roar’ and ‘How You Move’. Here he provides exclusive vocals for her for the first time.

"Max Knouse’s voice feels like laughter that follows a well-loved joke. Only afterward, it dawns on you that you don’t fully understand the punchline. Or for that matter the set up. In fact, you’re not even sure what language the joke was told in. What to make of such a laugh—inexplicable, delightful, surprising, seemingly nonsensical? And what to make his voice, at once comforting, beguiling, and just beyond the bounds, like a blues moan or a Mingus lick or some ancient guttural holler? It’s the kind of haunt that lingers long after the record fades, echoing back in your imagination, laden with cryptic possibilities and occulted meanings.

Chipmunk’d Away is his third album. Known for his sessions and live shows with artists like Califone, Jolie Holland, Adan Jodorowsky, Psychic Temple, Simon Joyner, Alex Dupree, and others, Knouse has established himself as an essential factor in the West Coast indie pop underground, brandishing guitar chops that mirror the rawness of his voice; he treats his instrument like a divining rod of spiritual tension and joyful racket, pushing and pulling on it with affection and sometimes something darker.

From the swelling cosmic folk of “Mint and Tobacco,” which features Knouse intoning apocalyptically over engineer Michael Krassner’s washing guitars, “Your breathing ain’t so deep,” to the jazz standard swooner-meets-West Coast psych-pop title track, to the nightmare-scape blues of “Clumsy Hunter,” to the concluding audio collage sway of “Banana, Orange, and Something Else,” Chipmunk’d presents the range and scope of Knouse’s style: bold, adventurous, frightening, and then frequently, when you least expect it, heartbreakingly lovely, like a joke that clarifies your feelings before you could actually verbalize what those feelings even are. They had been hidden from you, chipmunk’d away, but now Max Knouse has revealed them."

Âsan’s self-released Beychen EP is a raw odyssey through the chaos and catharsis of creation. Across four relentless tracks, the producer mirrors the turmoil of nearly losing their passion for music—only to rediscover it by dismantling old habits and surrendering to the unknown. What emerges is a vortex of psychedelic techno, where layered rhythms spiral into the deep-down and morphing soundscapes warp time itself.
The title track Beychen channels the claustrophobic unease of a creative block with its brainmelting progression, only to erupt in a complete loss of control and, therefore, relief. The other three tracks deliver visceral techno in similar fashion, each piece evolving like an own entity with hypnotic force. This is music for darkened rooms and muddy forest stages, where the dancefloor becomes a mirror for Âsan’s internal reckoning. Here, the anxiety of creation is not conquered, but alchemized.
Âsan, a New York-based producer and co-founder of the label Cellar Door, always chases a certain feeling in his work—an elusive sensation that guides his creative journey. For him, dancing begins in the head, as rhythms and soundscapes take shape in a space between thought and intuition. His music invites listeners to step into that headspace, where the body follows the mind’s spiraling patterns.

CHIME OBLIVION began out of the blue. David Barbarossa reached out to John Dwyer saying he was a fan of OSEES and he was invited to a show in London. The two hung out and hit it off, "then I rabbit holed on Bow wow wow too…," Dwyer recalls. "I reached out to David and suggested that we try and write some songs together... I flew David out, we met at my studio and spent five days writing basin drums ideas." The two got to know each other and had a lot of laughs. Dwyer then brought in Weasel Walter, knowing that he would be perfect "to add all that legitimate old-school weird proto-punk no wave guitar scratch to it, which of course he did masterfully." Next came Tom Dolas to play fuzzy marimba, and the fabulous H.L. Nelly, "as I knew her from a record I’d put out back in the day for a band called Naked Lights from Oakland. I knew that she could pull off the vocal style I had in mind." Together, the group created their debut self-titled album, due for release via Deathgod on April 18th. CHIME OBLIVION will be released as a 45 rpm 12" vinyl, CD & on digital. They're sharing the first taste of the album today, in the form of lead single, "NEIGHBORHOOD DOG." "For fans of Adam & the Ants, Bow Wow Wow, Crass, The Slits, and any other wierdo punk we fell in love with as youths." CHIME OBLIVION is due for release on April 18th via Deathgod.

CHIME OBLIVION began out of the blue. David Barbarossa reached out to John Dwyer saying he was a fan of OSEES and he was invited to a show in London. The two hung out and hit it off, "then I rabbit holed on Bow wow wow too…," Dwyer recalls. "I reached out to David and suggested that we try and write some songs together... I flew David out, we met at my studio and spent five days writing basin drums ideas." The two got to know each other and had a lot of laughs. Dwyer then brought in Weasel Walter, knowing that he would be perfect "to add all that legitimate old-school weird proto-punk no wave guitar scratch to it, which of course he did masterfully." Next came Tom Dolas to play fuzzy marimba, and the fabulous H.L. Nelly, "as I knew her from a record I’d put out back in the day for a band called Naked Lights from Oakland. I knew that she could pull off the vocal style I had in mind." Together, the group created their debut self-titled album, due for release via Deathgod on April 18th. CHIME OBLIVION will be released as a 45 rpm 12" vinyl, CD & on digital. They're sharing the first taste of the album today, in the form of lead single, "NEIGHBORHOOD DOG." "For fans of Adam & the Ants, Bow Wow Wow, Crass, The Slits, and any other wierdo punk we fell in love with as youths." CHIME OBLIVION is due for release on April 18th via Deathgod.

Almost Like You Could ignites its art punk fire with Lucy Alexander proclaiming, “Everyone wants something to talk about / But not a minute to spare, so be brief.” Not surprising from a song that’s 1:54 (‘Higher’), but the raw honesty in her lyrics ring far after the music ends. Alexander, along with bandmate Luke Cartledge, place the propulsive power of their beliefs at the core of their debut full-length album, and their guiding motivation towards social justice is as fierce as it is welcoming. “Living as part of the queer community, and being queer myself, leads me towards supporting every person’s truth,” Alexander says. Scrounge’s songs skip to a fast beat, electrifying the entire album with a sense of empowerment. Their approach is OG punk: they make music for their peers and themselves. Only now, with a world of connections possible, they’re able to open arms wide for a far-reaching embrace. Alexander’s rich vocals give their sound its central force, anchoring the songs with confessional lines (“If this is the pinnacle, then I need a miracle/ Cause everyone’s laughing at me,” “There’s not much left/ this corpse I have to keep/ Above board.”). They sing about economic inequality, political corruption, environmental destruction, and collective change. “We’re inspired by those around us, and we write about what we care about. Art has always existed for us as a means of catharsis, a way of expressing something we might not be able to otherwise, and we hope our music can be that for other people too,” says Alexander. “I think I’ve actually written a filthy banger,” she states while re-listening to “Buzz/Cut”, a grunge-honoring hammer of a song that takes a journey from disappointment, to self-realization, to release. Alexander and Cartledge’s gratification in making an album they’re proud of mirrors the empowerment conveyed in their lyrics. A follow-up to debut mini-album Sugar, Daddy (Fierce Panda, 2022), Almost Like You Could came together over 18 months, in between “teaching, touring, graduation, and a wedding”, as Lucy explains, for the band always has a handful of shows coming up. It’s a strange outcome for a duo who first bonded over their mutual love of SOPHIE. “She radicalized the structure of sound, and revealed herself through it,” Cartledge explains. “That was a massive inspiration when we started playing together, stripping everything away to open up new possibilities as artists and as people." Having already toured Europe and the States, Scrounge is preparing to be on the road throughout 2025. In a world where the idea of true community is ephemeral, Lucy and Luke seek to foster it everywhere they play. And their belief in change is ultimately buoyed by hope. “I know that it’s never been this good,” they sing.

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

LINER NOTES BY BOOM BASS
A FIRST ALBUM AFTER SIGNING THE CONTRACT TO RELEASE OUR DEBUT ALBUM, WE WERE SUDDENLY INUNDATED WITH AN OVERWHELMING NUMBER OF TASKS.

TOWARD THE END OF THE 20TH CENTURY,MUSIC PRODUCTION WAS STILL A HEAVILY INDUSTRIAL PROCESS. FACTORIES MANUFACTURED CDS, VINYL RECORDS, AND EVEN AUDIO CASSETTES, WHICH WERE THEN SHIPPED BY TRUCK TO WAREHOUSES BELONGING TO VARIOUS FRENCH MAJOR LABELS. DEDICATED TEAMS BRAINSTOR-MED IDEAS, DEVISED STRATEGIES, AND ORCHESTRATED PLANS TO DISTRIBUTE THESE RECORDS TO SPECIALIZED STORES. AT THE TIME, RADIO, TELEVISION, AND THE PRESS HELD THE KEYS TO SUCCESS.

WITHOUT THEIR SUPPORT, REACHING THE GENERAL PUBLIC, OR EVEN A NICHEA UDIENCE, WAS NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE.OUR FIRST ALBUM AS CASSIUS, SLATED FOR RELEASE IN JANUARY 1999, SPARKED GENUINE EXCITEMENT WITHIN THE VIRGIN RECORDS TEAM. AS A FORMER ARTISTIC DIRECTOR, I KNEW THIS LEVEL OF ENTHUSIASM WAS RARE. FOR PHILIPPE AND ME, STEPPING INTO THE SPOTLIGHT WAS A COMPLETELY NEW EXPERIENCE.

AFTER YEARS OF WORKING BEHIND THE SCENES FOR OTHERS,FOCUSED AND IMMERSED IN THE STUDIO, WE WERE NOW AT THE FOREFRONT, ENTIRELY INCONTROL. THIS SHIFT BROUGHT A WHIRLWIND OF EMOTIONS: AMBITION FUELED OUR FEARS,AND CREATIVE CHAOS OFTEN BLURRED OUR JUDGMENT ABOUT WHEN TO STOP REFINING OURWORK.NAVIGATING DECISIONS AS A DUO, WE QUICKLY DISCOVERED THE COMPLEXITIES OF PARTNERSHIP AND PRODUCTION. WITHOUT MANAGEMENT, WHOSE CRITICAL ROLE IS OFTEN TO SHIELD ARTISTS FROM THEIR OWN TENDENCIES, WE OCCASIONALLY STRUGGLED TO MAKE THE RIGHT CHOICES.

YET, EXCITEMENT AND SHEER JOY ULTIMATELY PREVAILED, AND WE THREW OURSELVES WHOLE HEARTEDLY INTO THE ADVENTURE. AS POSITIVE FEEDBACK ROLLED IN FROM SUBSIDIARIES, MARKETING BUDGETS EXPANDED, AND THE ALBUM'S RELEASE STRATEGY SKYROCKETED TO NEW HEIGHTS.

DAFT PUNK'S GROUNDBREAKING ALBUM HOMEWORK HAD JUST OPENED THE DOOR FOR FRENCH ELECTRONIC MUSIC TO REACH GLOBAL AUDIENCES. FOR ARTISTS ROOTED IN DJ CULTURE,THIS WAS A TURNING POINT. FRENCH ACTS WERE FINALLY BEING INVITED TO PLAY AT BURGEONING FESTIVALS AND ICONIC CLUBS. THE BRITISH AUDIENCE WAS THE FIRST TO EMBRACE US, AND WEEKEND AFTER WEEKEND, WE TOURED THE UK.

INSPIRED BY THOSE NIGHTS BEHIND THE DECKS, WE SUGGESTED RELEASING A VINYL FEATURING EXTENDED VERSIONS OF TRACKS FROM 1999. DESIGNED AS A PROMOTIONAL DJ TOOL, IT CELEBRATED EXPANSIVE, LONG-FORM TRACKS REMINISCENT OF THE ONES WE LOVED TO PLAY, AN HOMAGE TO OUR EARLY EXPERIMENTS WITH NDLESS LOOPS, LIKE DINAPOLY FROM 1996.

THE VINYL WAS PRESSED IN AN EXTREMELY PROMO LIMITED SERIES, ECHOING OUR EARLY MAXI-SINGLES AND THE RARE RECORDS WE USED TO HUNT FOR AS COLLECTORS. FOR FANS, IT WAS A CHANCE TO OWN SOMETHING TRULY UNIQUE; FOR US, IT WAS A FINAL OPPORTUNITY TO RE-EXPLORE THEA LBUM'S MUSIC.PRODUCED IN THE STYLE OF LA FUNK MOB'S EP, WITH THE TWO OF US IN A RECORDING BOOTH SURROUNDED BY FLOPPY-DISK MACHINES AND TWO OR THREE SYNTHS, THE ALBUM'S SONGS WERE STRUCTURED AND MIXED DIRECTLY IN STEREO ON A DAT (DIGITAL AUDIO TAPE).

MOST TRACKS, ORIGINALLY VERY LONG, WERE EDITED INTO A COHERENT, HOUR-LONG LISTENING EXPERIENCE. THE DJ TOOL WAS ASSEMBLED FROM THOSE ORIGINAL MIXES, AS A FINAL, FREE WHEELING VARIATION OF OUR THREE WEEKS OF FUN IN THE STUDIO.HOLDING THAT VINYL TODAY BRINGS BACK VIVID MEMORIES OF THOSE EARLY TRAVELS, THE NIGHTCLUBS AT THE CUSP OF TRANSFORMATION, THE CROWDS GETTING YOUNGER AT NEW PARTIES, AND THE VINYL RECORDS THAT WERE JUST STARTING TO FADE FROM DJ BOOTHS.

I ALSO RECALL BEING 32 YEARS OLD, NAVIGATING THIS EVOLVING WORLD. NOW, AS I PREPARE FOR THE UPCOMING CASSIUS CLUB TOUR, I'M STRUCK BY HOW CLOSELY IT MIRRORS THE ERA OF THE DJ TOOL RELEASE. TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER, I FEEL INCREDIBLY FORTUNATE TO STILL BE DOING THIS.

IN THE STUDIO, PHILIPPE ONCE SHOUTED, "CASSIUS IN THE HOUSE !" INTO MY EAR. TODAY, I FEEL LIKE TELLING HIM, "I'M GOING BACK TO OUR ROOTS."BOOMBASS.

'199 DJ TOOL", 2025 UNRELEASED ALBUM BY CASSIUS FEATURING 8 EXCLUSIVE EXTENDED VERSIONS OF THE MOST ICONIC TRACKS FROM THE ALBUM 1999 AND THIS EXCLUSIVE SHORT STORY BY BOOMBASS.

Fraufraulein, the San Francisco duo of Billy Gomberg and Andy Guthrie, are master world builders. Their work is immersive — it wraps around you like a warm coat, guiding you deep into a trance-like state. Time moves in slow circles, folds in on itself, and unspools like caught fishing line. It’s tempting to say Guthrie and Gomberg construct a new reality with their work, but I think they’re revealing the contours of familiar territory, gluing together a complicated mirror more than constructing a quotidian diorama. Their music reflects a truth that we all share in some way. It’s the pauses between thoughts, the little observations that color a day, the beauty of how others’ lives imbricate for brief moments before pulling apart completely. Fraufraulein’s music feels beamed from inner space, the soft parts of our consciousness that glow like a flashlight beneath fingertips.

It’s also tempting to call Greater Honeyguide, the duo’s new record — and first in four years — a tool for fostering presence. Each composition can serve as a meditative space, and observing the quietly unfurling layers of sound — a footfall and a quiet breath, scraps of overlapping melodies sung like notes to self, synthesizers droning lightly in the distance — can be a very calming, grounding experience. But I also love to let these pieces guide me through the sulci of my brain like a slot canyon, emerging at some long-forgotten memory or idea. Think of it as a passively-active experience, like looking out of a train window, watching the scenery blur together. At the end of the album’s 37 minutes, I feel transformed. Not necessarily different, just in tune with something else. Something beyond. Something within.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding, the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian 60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

eaturing pieces for tenor saxophone and digital keyboard, and accented by traces of additional instruments, these songs sound a fated exchange mutually effortless and expansive. On »Greyhound Days« Patrick Shiroishi and Piotr Kurek makinespace for each other’s distinct voices as much as their eloquently mirrored gestures, sharing their attraction to intuitive expressions and the simple tenderness of first takes.

Blasé is a French-American pop artist, composer, arranger, producer, singer and author. Since his childhood and adolescence in New York, he experimented, mixed together 70s rock, electronic music, disco and hiphop, to create a sound that will take him directly to Paris with his first band Haute, with Anna Majidson. A first hit will be born, «Shut Me Down», whose session Colors accumulates more than 30 million views on YouTube.

After this first success, and following numerous collaborations with various artists such as Agoria, DJ Pone, Lala&ce, Niro or Jwles, he found his musical signature and started solo. The UFO Blasé released his first EP «Why Blasé? » in 2023 on Record Makers label, a unique fusion of Chic, The Strokes and Manu Chao.

Blasé releases his first album «BLABLABLA» in 2025, an album that stands as a personal manifesto of his sound obsessions that open almost as many tracks: 15 original titles in search of the groove.

With his educated ears to the radio and charts across the Atlantic, he honors this generous vision of pop that encompasses old-school hip-hop, R&B, jazz, funk, disco and new-wave, and navigates between different styles in the manner of American artists. Some songs are in French while others are in English, featuring singer Anna Majidson, rapper Jwles, and the late American artist Cola Boyy. So we go on «BLABLABLA» from a studio haunted by Quincy Jones to a cellar where he rehearses The Cure of «Boys Don’t Cry».

Repress!

In the latest of a series of albums that have mirrored the exceptional story of the band itself, Cornershop return with a new album ‘England Is A Garden’ on March 6th 2020 on Ample Play Records. It is an album that strides in an upbeat fashion, to deliver a full listening experience, bringing songs of experience, empire, protest and humour, steeped in the way only Tjinder Singh would come with. Listen to a first taste of the album now, ‘No Rock: Save In Roll’, that is to say that there is not one without the other, that rock, for all its focus on death is the saviour of life. The anvil here is music itself, and a celebration of Tjinder’s birth place - The Black Country, which also gave birth to heavy metal that has gone on to influence the world to dirty rock, whether the streets are lined with pylons or palm trees, the Black Country has allowed us to see things differently. So the sound here goes back to Englands’ Midlands with two thumbs up to the feeling of hearing heavy metal from the back of a stage, as we all ride on and await the female backing vocals of our song to come in.

"Every night we've been listening to RATTLE. They have a stark yet deep trance percussion vibe that is both holistic and rocking." Thurston Moore
“Quietly dramatic and loudly intimate.” The Quietus
“Two drum sets. Two voices. One great idea.” MOJO
Rattle are Katharine Eira Brown and Theresa Wrigley, they formed in 2011 after meeting on the live circuit whilst both playing in other bands. Katharine was a guitarist who had recently started playing drums in the band Kogumaza, whilst Theresa was the drummer in Nottingham band Fists. They’ve since released two long-players, 2016’s self-titled debut album Rattle (Upset The Rhythm / I Own You) and 2018’s Sequence (Upset The Rhythm) to much critical acclaim in the music press, and with James Acaster discussing the debut on his BBC Sounds podcast Perfect Sounds!
Rattle have honed the four songs that make up ‘Encircle’ by playing them live over the last few years, adapting and stretching them into endlessly inventive new shapes, playing with the concept of time and expectation. ‘Encircle’ was recorded at Foel Studios, Wales, produced and mixed by Mark Jasper, and mastered at Liminal Audio by Shaun Crook. The stunningly colourful artwork was created by Martha Glazzard, who was also responsible for Rattle’s other mesmeric covers.
‘All Burning’ opens the album, a live favourite of cyclical tumbling and evolving wordplay. ‘All Burning’ was built up gradually layer by layer with Theresa’s cumulative snare work and Katherine’s urgent calls for action: “hold your doctor, hold your daughter, hold your horses”. If ‘All Burning’ represents fire, then it’s accompanying 12-minute long track on Side 1, ‘Argot’, is informed by the air. ‘Argot’ is a song about uncertainty, with Katherine singing wordlessly across the majority of the track. “I prefer to sing wordlessly often because it feels a bit more expressive and universal” asserts Katherine. The track feels truly epic with a satisfying release that comes with the eventual introduction of the bass drum and snappy hi-hat section.

Side 2 also pairs a shorter song with a long-form composition. ‘Ritual’ is worked up from a simple snare drum pattern which becomes more and more overlapped into an elliptical form of waltz. Katherine considers ‘Ritual’ as “very earthy song - lots of low lying mist on the ground swirling around and the drums coming together to summon something”! ‘Ritual’ was inspired by a visit to the ruins of Boleskine House so multi-dimensional themes and occult practice loom large. ‘Your Move’ is a step-up gear change with the band wanting it to feel like the tape had suddenly started to spin faster, urging movement, venturing action. Clocking in at over 15 minutes, ‘Your Move’, is mesmeric and boundless, hypnotic in its minimalism of doubled-drums and almost tribal vocal cycles.
With ‘Encircle’ Rattle have grown again, these songs are alive with elemental power. They build-up and disintegrate, existing in two places at once, embracing the nuance, tracing the circle’s edge. These are modes of song as pure gesture and eternal imagination, refined in mirrors after midnight.
Rattle has performed at The Barbican, London and toured the UK with Animal Collective and Thurston Moore Group and Europe with The Julie Ruin and Protomartyr, and performed with Hot Snakes, Bill Orcutt Quartetand Codeine.