Suche:piece process

Nearly 10 years on since his last solo LP, Berlin techno icon Marcel Dettmann arrives on Dekmantel with an expansive album captured in a flash of inspiration.

In many ways Fear Of Programming is a reflection on the artistic process – the critical hurdles one has to overcome, the constant strive for originality, the ability to capture inspiration in its pure moment of inception. Bar the closing title track (and we all know Marcel loves a surprise closing), these 13 tracks came together during a period in which our hirsute host was able to immerse himself in studio practice and set the intention to record an album’s worth of material every single day. From the resulting mass of work there were many options to choose from, and Fear Of Programming stood out as one of the most complete statements on Dettmann’s approach in the here and now.

Unconcerned with an overarching concept, it was the work in the studio which drove the musical direction. No labouring over knotty arrangements, no painstaking mix downs – just honest expression, a moment caught, a groove locked, a stroke of synth sent pirouetting over a cavernous bed of texture. The results are varied, and while you might well hear plenty of bruising machinations in line with the techno Dettmann has made his name on, there are plenty of other shades expressed across the album.

Ambient sojourns, beatless epics and angular electronica have equal footing with strident, floor-friendly workouts. Standout piece ‘Water’ offers an icy ballet of swinging minimal and drip-drop melodics fronted by Ryan Elliott on lesser-spotted vocal duties, urging, ‘give me a sign, just a little something to let me know that you’re mine’. It’s playful, but still underpinned with the sincerity that comes with Dettmann’s work.

Running on instinct, Dettmann presents an honest version of himself in the here and now, speaking through the sonics and not over-thinking the results. His decades of experience helming a thousand techno parties speak for themselves, while his evolution as a musical entity through collaboration and his own BAD MANNERS label demonstrate his appetite for change. Indeed, the working method which resulted in the album also spurred him on to create a live set beyond his well-established DJ practice. Without resorting to a conceited overhaul, Fear Of Programming opens up the idea of what Dettmann represents in the modern techno landscape.

AI-32 signals the arrival of ‘The Fifth World Recordings’, by Son of Chi (Hanyo van Oosterom) and long-term collaborator Arthur Flink. A tribute to the late Jon Hassell, who passed away in 2021, the album connects a deep running thread that goes back to the source of Chi project. Carrying on from where Hassell left off, the album takes inspiration and references from his Fourth World music concept and the ancient Hopi tradition of Native America. Illuminating the subliminal space of the arising Fifth World, Son of Chi pays respects to an inimitable force in contemporary music. 

Hassell’s ‘Dream Theory in Malaya’ forms a touchstone to Hanyo van Oosterom’s musical journey, which soundtracked long, deep and reflective periods living in the cave of the Kallikatsou (Patmos, Greece) back in the early 80s. This period resulted in Hanyo’s track as Chi - ‘Hopi’ - in 1984. Hanyo met Hassell shortly after in 1987 at his “The Surgeon in the Nightsky” concert in Rotterdam - it wasn’t until twenty years later that Hanyo invited him for two magic nights of “Instant Composing Sessions” with the Numoonlab Orchestra (with a host of other artists) at the LantarenVenster, the very same stage where Hassell had performed in 1987 and also where Chi did their first live performance. 

Dreamful, mysterious, prophetic, the Fifth World Recordings features the quiet yet elaborate sound of Chi awash with rich instrumentation, field recordings, and old stories by the firelight. Sketches were created with drones, loops, and soundscapes, with which Arthur Flink (also a member of the Numoonlab Orchestra) jammed on trumpet. Channelling Hassell’s idiosyncratic style, floating melodies and lyrical improvisations are parsed into the mix, where Hanyo has processed and manipulated the recordings, also referencing Hassell’s exotic scales and unique harmonics.

Additionally, the wah Bamboo flute at the closing piece is an homage to the works of Chi co-founder Jacobus Derwort (1952-2019). For this piece Hanyo used his first bamboo flute he made at the cave of the Kallikatsou in 1984. Arthur Flink answers in counterpoint with the wah trumpet, almost like the intuitive communication of the nightbirds..

Sometimes it only takes a short getaway to the beach at the beginning of a new romance to open your heart to the wonders of the universe. On this record CV Vision taps into the ebb and flow of the sea, the cycle of coastal processes, and repositions the library sounds he’s mastered so well somewhere on the other side of the bay.

White noise washes like gentle waves up against analog synths and acoustic guitars, while the full spectrum of holiday possibilities are reflected: Surf’s Up (Let’s Trip) captures that roadtrip excitement, albeit with some psychedelic twist. But it’s not all sunshine - CV Vision makes sure to show the grey clouds too, with the sweet melancholy of Rainy Days.

Somewhere between dune rides and underwater dives, camp fires and sunsets, CV Vision captures a weekend at the beach in song. After a short moment of reflection (and some hallucinatory assistance), he wrote the lyrics and pieced the record together in the following weeks, to create what you see and hear now.

Instrumental interludes brush up against ballads and field recordings, to paint a wonderfully rich audio postcard from deep within CV Vision’s heart.

In these turbulent times we have managed to release six pieces of wax to date.This is something to be proud of, and of course we are.

For this sixth slice of plastic we have Kalter Ende on board and it’s a real pleasure. From his bunker hidden somewhere in the middle of the peninsula, he runs his label Concerns Music and his mastering studio Reborn.

On the production side he has lately gone into modular, and you can clearly feel the machines in his productions and in his amazing live act.

For this release he has cooked up five cuts of modern and complex techno, carefully crafted, nothing easy or predictable. Mujo, the opening track, is a clear example.

Jōshahissui follows slow paced grooves, crispy analogue percussion, linear hypnotic sequences and a wise and dynamic arrangement. You can feel the circuits singing in this one.

Sengoku introduces distortion and harshness, a diffused kick drum and processed synth lines running together from the beginning until flanged sequences come on top, a weird marriage of overdrive and deepness.

Closing the release, Senran explores the profound side of techno, clear synthetic drums, liquid synths, elastic bleeps, again on a complex and wise arrangement.

As digital bonus we include the track Ran, again a precise electronic workout made of continuous synth lines and sharp rhythms.

Five timeless pieces of danceable electronic music, away from trends, far from the easiness, done by professionals for professionals. Touchable, collectable and physical as every piece of vinyl is.

180g White Vinyl

* Following on from the hugely popular ‘Klavirni’ (Emika’s first solo piano album in 2015) her second installment of piano solos are a magical cluster of melodies, dreamy effects, obscure production mistakes with tape echo’s and other old analog gear.

* The pieces were recorded during the time she was pregnant with her first child Silvy, to whom she has dedicated this record ‘To Silvy who heard it first from the inside’.

* The collection of ‘Dilo’s’ which means moment in Czech, were recorded ‘in a state of ultra hyped up creativity combined with a massive fear about losing my identity or creativity as an artist once I would become a mother’ - says Emika about the album process.

* A truly personal affair and in keeping with the original style of the first Klavirni, all the Dilo’s were recorded improvisations by the composer on her home piano, this time in Berlin.

* Dilo 7 from the first album has been streamed more than 15 million times on Spotify and there will also be a ‘Red Edition’ repress of the album on vinyl.

* This release marks the 5 year anniversary of Emika Records, celebrating 5 years of independence since her days with Ninja Tune.

* Dilo Variations EP (not released previously before on vinyl) will come with the anniversary releases on a cute little 10’’ with updated artwork.

* This is also the final release in her Emika Records catalog before starting a new venture in 2020 with more details to follow later in the year.

* ‘Klavirni Temna’ which means dark piano in Czech, explores the relationship between dark and light, good and evil, death and rebirth.

* ‘Music is a powerful and sometimes unexplainable force.’ - Emika

Fresh from the success of 'Say You Won't Ever', Wallflower return with their second single 'Manifest', an ode to honouring what naturally unfolds through surrendering to the Process; not to be confused with having manifest intent of a desired outcome consistently held in the mind's eye.

Leah Floyeur's vibrant piano and Alison Marks' haunting and
mantric vocals combine beautifully with the deeper moody strings to produce a delicately illuminating piece.

The package includes a couple of strong re-interpretations.

On the A Side by Gerd Janson and Phillip Lauer team up again for Rebirth to deliver a mix set to become a classic, combining an old school house feeling with a pulsing disco bass and atmospheric pads.

The vocals shine once more on what is sure to become a real dance-floor filler ! On the B side, Keinemusik's boss Rampa creates a strong remix combining raw percussion and tambourine with an intense synth line to build tension and energy.

There is a particular kind of strangeness that arrives on long drives across Europe. Flat light, service stations and fields stretching endlessly past the window. It might look mundane at first glance, but becomes faintly surreal when the tiredness of touring blurs the edges of everything.

That feeling became the quiet engine behind Driving Through Belgium, the debut solo album from Anton Pearson, best known as one of the guitarists in respected post-punk outfit Squid. The title grew from a track that felt like the record’s centrepiece, which itself came from the recurring image of extensive periods on the road across the continent. It is a record shaped in the margins of touring, and finessed in the in-between hours.

Across six pieces, Pearson leans into atmosphere, texture and space. It is ambient in spirit, adjacent to contemporary classical in feeling, but composed less with notes in mind than with sound itself. The compositions rarely began with harmony or melody, with Pearson instead responding to his environment and sounds in real time, placing trust in his instinct.

Although initial inspiration came from the road, the album was recorded in a studio he shares in Brighton, and marks his first fully solo project made in that setting. It gave him access to not only new tools and techniques, but a hitherto un-experienced freedom. Much of the process began experimentally, feeding instruments into unfamiliar chains, pitching loops into unexpected registers and playing with previously unused synthesizers simply to see what they might reveal. Many of the sounds were created out of pure curiosity, wanting to understand a piece of equipment or technology, and then following wherever it led.

The album was built with this experimentation at its core, as Pearson would layer then extract, processing stacks of sound until things blur and confuse. Guitars dissolve into drones, a Pianet Clavinet dances against muddier textures whilst a Korg PS-1000 occasionally cuts through with its glittering top end. On ‘Driving Past the Muscular Cows in Belgium’, a flat, still drone is pushed through valve amps until it growls and tightens with tension, before receding again. Even the trumpet, which Pearson freely admits he is not technically proficient at, is embraced in its naivety, its squeaks left intact rather than corrected. The twin ‘Tintinnabulation’ pieces frame the record with looping, pitched bell like tones, accidental discoveries that became structural anchors. Meanwhile, ‘Teeth to Cut the Grass’ deliberately introduces abrasion, some of the harshest textures on the record, a refusal to become passive background music.


That embrace of imperfection is central. In contrast to the hyper-analytical precision of his band, Pearson was keen to honour first takes. If something felt good, it would stay. The end result is an album that favours looseness, instinct and the energy of creation itself. If Squid thrives on propulsion and tension, Anton Pearson finds his energy in suspension on Driving Through Belgium. It is curious rather than declarative, creating a space where experimentation feels playful again.

"All the tracks on this release come from a live concert at Sharmanka, a beautiful and unique museum of kinetic sculptures in Glasgow, and throughout the record, the sounds of the sculptures moving and emitting noises are incorporated into the music performed. The four pieces presented are entirely improvised. There was no discussion beforehand of what instruments or what approach would be taken, and each piece evolved as a musical negotiation as the performers individually made choices about what instruments to play and how to support and meet each other within the unfolding musical narrative. While Macdonald and Ferlaino both share a lifetime of work with their chosen primary instrument, the saxophone, they also share a passion for exploring other instruments and objects for their sonic and socio-creative potential. This record foregrounds both these aspects of their work: they use saxophones, but also incorporate bells, toys, bagpipes, accordions, percussion instruments and voice.
"Raymond MacDonald is a saxophonist and composer with an extensive career in music, cross-disciplinary arts and academia. He has played on and released over 100 albums, toured and broadcast worldwide and has composed music for film, television, theatre, radio and art installations. He is a founding member of the Glasgow Improvisers Orchestra, and his work is informed by a view of improvisation as a social, collaborative, and uniquely creative process that provides opportunities to develop new ways of engaging musically.
"Christian Ferlaino is an Italian saxophonist, bagpipe player, improviser, composer and ethnomusicologist. He composes for ensembles of improvisers, both from the jazz and improvised music scene, as well as for contemporary music ensembles. His work explores the relationships between composition and improvisation, and the expressive potential of improvised music. His musical research also focuses on creatively engaging with the sonic and musical realm of Calabria, with special attention to its performing techniques and approach to sound and music generation."

Deconstructed techno-dub classical piano, by exploratory composer Richard Pike. A suite of pieces for piano and texture loops, focused on real-time composition & an exploration of cassette sound sources, minimalism, harmony and the ghostly acoustic ephemera that emerges from the loop material. Intimate, granular and dust-covered.

After the passing of the late great Ryuchi Sakamoto during winter in early 2023 Richard Pike gravitated towards the piano as a daily ritual of improvisation, or what he prefers to call ‘real-time composition’.
Pike’s initial approach was an interest in a repeated practice, finding earthly textural tape loops against a daily commune with the piano. Very quickly a suite of pieces formed.

The process of collecting loops and beds in his studio the morning, then moving downstairs to a 1950s Eavestaff Minipiano in the living room, to record melodic and harmonic expressions over the bed of textures, with and against the flow. This process was pure and impulsive, leaving editing and scrutiny until later.

The textures are inspired by the likes of Romeo Poirier, Deepchord, early music concrete and a nostalgia for the ‘clicks and pops’ era that inspired Pike’s early experiments in his Warp Records-affiliated band PVT.

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

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

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

Maybe it was inevitable that Vilhelm Bromander and Fredrik Rasten would find each other. A symbiotic musical alliance of suggestive combinatory magic that stretches back to the interstitial two day space that separates their dates of birth and manifests here as the movement between ‘perfect’ or ‘just’ intonation and the ragged, psychoactive energy of the slippages from and towards that togetherness that render otherwise simple patterns or generally understood repetitions as wildly other and alive.

Astral Twins shares ‘twin’ works by each composer. The patiently unfolding real time retuning of Fredrik Rasten’s guitars on the a-side’s Sojourns and Vilhelm Bromander’s quickened steps and spry looping melodies on the flip’s Partially Dancing.

Both artists have history of going deep into the aesthetic and acoustic impact of intonation (how you think about what is ‘in tune’). Where their first LP (...for some reason that escapes us, 2019, Differ Records) shared a gorgeous set of sustained tone colour fields, this time they lean more explicitly into the folk music traditions of Scandinavia and further afield, whilst echoing the zoned minimalist atmosphere of Arthur Russell’s classic Instrumentals.

Recorded up close and in real time at Fylkingen’s soon-to-be-abandoned temporary location in Stockholm’s southern suburb of Bredäng, Astral Twins sings with the possibility that one plus one can equal more than two.

Fredrik Rasten:
 Sojourns explores the live retuning of guitar and double bass in a sequence of just intonation harmonies. A guitar ostinato runs throughout the piece where the retuning becomes an integral part of the composition. The slow pace reveals every detail in the transition from one harmonic arpeggio to another — how interfering waves emerge and disappear as the tonal interactions settle in electric clarity. The double bass shadows the guitar's process and comments with occasional pizzicato tones and register jumps, at times providing a low foundation for the sound and sometimes soaring together with the guitar. This is music that is deeply listening; experimental and at the same time humbly inviting many kinds of being with sound.

Vilhelm Bromander: 
As the title suggests, this song has a partially dancing character. The title also has a double meaning with reference to the partials and harmonics that dance together. The basic idea was to write music in just intonation that instead of being drone-based is reminiscent of a lightly dancing folk music, where the joyous feeling of just being in the music — “musicking" — is allowed to lead the way.

The double bass plays repeated overtone double stops in an open harmonic progression with subtle modulations that is inspired in equal parts by Steve Lacy's persistent repetition of phrases as east-asian khaen music. The guitars and mandolin have a freer role, with plucked retuned strings that enhance the bass's modulations and provide forward movement. The music invites to both melodic and spectral listening, suddenly halting so that other focal points can reveal themselves. For example, a chord sequence suddenly transitions to a more spectral part where Fredrik is playing a bowed guitar with a chain, several plucking guitars, voices, and pitch pipes. I wanted to make something ‘orchestral’ with just two people and no overdubs: a dance of overtones and open resonant strings, where we seamlessly take turns standing in the foreground.

Meet Me in the Garden is a richly textured exploration of love, loss, and renewal. Co-produced by Felix Bloxsom (SIA, Genesis Owusu), Daniel Mougerman (The Bamboos), and Rita Satch herself, and mixed by Grammy-winning engineer Ben Kane (D’Angelo, Emily King), the album features contributions from some of Naarm/Melbourne’s finest, alongside a sweeping 12-piece string orchestra.
Blending smooth soul, contemporary R&B, orchestral flourishes, and stacked harmonies reminiscent of D’Angelo and Bilal, the album unfolds with cinematic beauty and emotional depth. It opens with a stirring string prelude by Mougerman before transitioning into the dreamy title track. Standouts include the meditative Breathe, the funk-fuelled Joyride, and Warrior Princess - a heartfelt tribute to Satch’s late grandmothers that helped her process grief through song.
Rooted in personal loss and spiritual growth, the album draws from Satch’s Kabbalistic studies and her belief in reunion beyond this life. With its timeless soul and modern edge, Meet Me in the Garden is a bold, soul-stirring debut that leaves a lasting impression.

For two decades, Gun Outfit has been a band defined less by genre than by continuity, patience, and a commitment to making music that reflects their lived experience.
Formed in Olympia, Washington in 2006 but long since rooted in Los Angeles, the group has evolved from a raw duo into a quietly formidable five-piece, their sound growing from scrappy post-punk beginnings into something spacious yet intimate, and always underpinned by an experimental edge.
On Process & Reality, Gun Outfit return with their most ambitious and immersive work to-date, a sprawling 80-minute double album shaped by time, environment, and philosophy. Recorded over the course of a single month in the late summer of 2020, on an 80-acre ranch in Pine Flat, California, while a massive forest fire burned less than ten miles away, the seeds of these songs were stark and strange.
Its title, Process & Reality, draws from the central work of philosopher Alfred North Whitehead, whose philosophy places intuition, experience, creativity, and relationality at the center of existence.
The band’s current lineup reflects both longevity and openness. Sharp and Keith remain the band’s primary architects, joined by longtime drummer Daniel Swire, multi-instrumentalist Henry Barnes, and bassist Kayla Cohen. Additional collaborators include Chris Cohen, Warren Lee, and Danny Sasaki all of whom add further depth, leaving subtle fingerprints across the album.
Musically, the album expands the band’s palette without abandoning its core sensibility. Dulcimer, autoharp, sitar, melodica, keyboards, homemade electronics, and a wide range of acoustic and electric textures appear throughout. The sound is mellow yet expansive, songs move between fragility and hefty atmospheric passages.
Influences surface obliquely rather than overtly. Elements of reggae and dub inform the production’s spatial sensibility. Echoes of long-form European jam bands coexist with sharp post-punk. British folk traditions, American country, and classic West Coast songwriting drift in and out of focus; the band is never afraid to lead or follow.

Finnish jazz producer Valtteri Laurell reworks some of J Dilla’s most iconic beats into adventurous big band versions. With drummer/producer Teddy Rok (Teppo Mäkynen of Five Corners Quintet, Stance Bros. etc.), flutist extraordinaire Elena Pinderhughes and Laurell’s own 17-piece Ricky-Tick Big Band, he creates a big band album that you never thought you would hear. Using the sparse and visionary beats of J Dilla as a starting point, Laurell has composed and arranged material on top of the original versions, performed by Ricky-Tick Big Band. ”My original idea was to write very abstract big band moments, that would be like samples Dilla might have used in his work. During the process though, on some of the tracks I started to feel more of a Bob James or Henry Mancini vibe in the arrangements, so the end result is a hybrid of those worlds. Naturally, the spirit of Gil Evans and the later work of Duke Ellington is also floating in the air”. To create a strong connection with the original material, Laurell asked Dilla-aficionado and drummer/producer Teppo ”Teddy Rok” Mäkynen to work with him on the rhythmic side of the pieces. Teddy Rok also mixed the album. As a special guest star, flutist Elena Pinderhughes is featured on Won’t Do and Rico Suave Bossa Nova. Ricky-Tick Big Band, which Laurell founded in 2010 is also well on display here, with rising baritone sax star Linda Fredriksson featured on Beej-n-Dem and trumpetist Jukka Eskola featured on Y’All Ain’t Ready.

Music From Memory presents 'Spacious Heart', the debut solo album from Los Angeles-based musician Anthony Calonico. Known for his work as part of the trio Total Blue, Calonico steps forward here with a collection of songs and instrumentals that invite the listener into his lush, expansive yet intimate world.

Written and recorded gradually between 2020 and 2024, 'Spacious Heart' emerged through a slow and open process, allowing the music to develop without rigid expectations. The album’s sonic landscape sits in a somewhat similar zone to Total Blue, with warm keys, synthesizers and rich production creating spacious environments where melodies and textures unfold naturally. Drawing together influences that move fluidly between spiritual jazz, synthesizer-driven explorations and ambient textures, the record balances harmonic richness with a gentle sense of openness. Where it diverges from Total Blue is through the presence of Calonico’s voice, the emotional anchor of the record. Smooth, luminous and quietly expressive, his singing carries a sense of earnestness and vulnerability while remaining delicately restrained.

‘Spacious Heart’ unfolds as a gentle conversation between song and atmosphere, where vocal pieces drift in and out of focus, intimate and reflective. The surrounding instrumentals open up space for these emotions to breathe, settle and expand, creating a quiet, reflective world where feeling, texture and restraint move softly together.

Sleeve art and design by Michael Willis.

Sirens" resonate a lot in 2026. "Sirens" are everywhere right now, in the many fields of the human reign, sounding at its highest level ever... Pioneering Swiss DJ and electronic music producer Ripperton joins forces with Berlin-based singer, composer and passionate aural storyteller Joy Frempong (OY) to create a beautiful and deeply moving piece of electronic music. And after three years in the making, “Sirens” finally emerges. The roots of this collaboration however reach back more than a decade. Around 2010, Ripperton first encountered Joy’s first album with Oy after hearing it on Swiss national radio Couleur 3. Shortly after, he saw her playing live — a moment he describes as pure magic. So inspired, Ripperton approached her label with a request to remix her music. The label agreed, and in exchange, Joy promised to feature on one of his future productions. What began as a mutual artistic gesture quietly planted a seed and eventually, pretty much fifteen years later, that seed has fully grown. “Sirens” began as one of Ripperton’s nocturnal modular jams — exploring and playing around with pulsating sequences, pure analogue sound textures and fluid, hypnotic structures. The track was then elevated to an entirely new level by Joy Frempong’s deep, evocative lyrics and her celestial voice, transforming the song into something haunting and profoundly human. The song also grew on a shared work ethos rooted in patience, trust and refinement. A slow process, shaped by intuition and feeling rather than pressure. Listening over noise. The result is an emotionally charged composition that blurs the line between inner reflection and collective awareness — a sonic response to the sirens of our time.

Quotes: Laurent Garnier: “This is lovelyyyyy * “ Aera: “Love it! A brooding masterpiece. Simple yet multilayered, the real action is happening beyond the surface.” Acid Pauli: "This is really special. Like it a lot." Kalabrese: "Wonderful collaboration between two outstanding artists. Fresh sounds, deeper rauschen, beautiful vocals, hypnotic tribe. a bliss!” Vladimir Ivcovic: "Das ist so gut, aufrichtig, rein und kommt zum richtigen Zeitpunkt. Die Abwesenheit von Hysterie. Ich liebe es. Downcast Euphoria of the highest order und gerade. In der Tat wunderschön. Besonders Clouds Mix, gerade."

XKatedral Anthology I is the first in a series of archival releases dedicated to presenting music by XKatedral affiliated composers working within the realm of slowly evolving harmonic and timbral music. This double-vinyl set contains an array of pieces dating from 2010 - 2020. Four of the works included here were originally released on cassette tape early on in the label's history, while the two remaining pieces are presented by the label for the first time.

"The works Ir Himinn, Grooenn by Kristoffer Svensson, Disquiet (Heart) by Marta Forsberg and Lamé by Isak Edberg were first released on the compilation XKatedral Volume II in 2016. Svenssons piece from 2014 combines justly tuned gamelan percussion and prepared piano intricately interwoven in a way that obscures the boundaries between the two instrument groups. Forsberg and Edbergs pieces both use a monolithic form to explore the timbral and harmonic spaces provided by the Düben Baroque organ situated in Tyska Kyrkan in the oldest part of Stockholm. While similar in terms of instrumentation the two works differ formally - Edbergs Lamé composed in 2010 uses the registers of the organ to articulate a seamless spectral transformation while Forsbergs Disquiet (Heart) from 2014 deals in blocks of sound with a varying degree of opacity, saturation and intensity.

Glory for two electric guitars by Caterina Barbieri and Kali Malone was composed and recorded in Tempo Reale in Florence, Italy, and was originally released on the cassette compilation XKatedral Volume III in 2016. This music takes the form of an ever-evolving hypnotic pattern shared by the two instruments articulated through an additive and subtractive canon. Dissolving Ceremony, composed in 2012 by Edberg/Erlandsson/Lisinski, was first presented publicly on the self-released record Stratum. The music contained in that release was formed from a collection of gamelan percussion instruments augmented by two sets of live-electronic instruments tuned to the harmonic framework formed by the partials of the metal percussion. Originally positioned in the center of the record running order between two long monolithic process-based pieces, Dissolving Ceremony now stands on its own as a memory of a time and methodology from the not so distant past.

The newest piece in this set is Shipwrecks by Daniel M Karlsson. While this work is a recent one Karlsson should be considered one of the forerunners of the musical expression contained within this record set. Active within new music for two decades his strongly articulated musical ideas and constantly evolving craftsmanship has resulted in an enormous body of work, and has served as an inspiration for many of his fellow composers. This piece is a celebration of transposition and its immense capacity for timbral transformation using a vast array of instruments performed, recorded and electronically treated by the composer to form a liquid uncanny topography where a deeply personal harmonic language constantly shifts, slides and shivers."

HLZ delivers his debut album for Metalheadz with 'All My Life', a project shaped by patience, experience and a deep rooted connection to the label's sound. The album began with the title track, first played during Goldie's residency at XOYO before eventually making its way to the label, and it was from that moment that the idea of a full-length record started to take shape. Around the same time HLZ moved back to Italy, embracing a slower pace of life that gave him the space and focus to bring the project together. Rather than following a fixed concept, 'All My Life' grew naturally in the studio. HLZ approached the process with what he calls a sense of humble confidence, trusting his instincts while staying grounded in the culture that shaped him. The aim was simple: to make music that could last beyond the short cycles that often define modern releases. Across the album, HLZ moves between soulful depth with a classic Metalheadz twang, into moments that push beyond his usual territory. From the title track's unmistakable Headz spirit to more exploratory pieces like 'Roadblock' and the introspective 'Solitary', 'All My Life' captures an artist fully settled in his voice. More than anything, the album reflects HLZ's deep connection to the music and the sound that has influenced him from the very beginning.

In Sheep’s Clothing announces the long-awaited vinyl pressing of Marc Leclair’s beloved 2005 album Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes. The album will also be available on streaming for the first time via Community Music Group.

For years after Marc Leclair released Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes, he heard from listeners who had lived with the record in an unusually intimate way. Many described how the music became part of the emotional landscape of the months leading to birth. “I never expected that,” Leclair says. “Many women told me they listened to the record throughout their pregnancies. They said it made a real difference, that it helped them. It became more than just a record.”

First issued on CD in the early 2000s, Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes (Music for Three Pregnant Women) now returns in a new edition from In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi, appearing on vinyl for the first time as a double LP. The record is being pressed in Detroit at Archer Record Pressing, the historic plant behind deep-groove classics by Juan Atkins, Kevin Saunderson, Underground Resistance, UR’s Jeff Mills, and J Dilla.

Listeners who know the Montreal-based Leclair through his better-known work as Akufen might be surprised by the tone here. During the same years he was shaping the intricate micro-sampling tracks that made Akufen a cult figure on labels including Perlon, Force Inc. and Trapez, Leclair was quietly developing this far more personal project. The meticulous craftsmanship remained the same, though the focus shifted from the hyper-detailed cut-up rhythms of his dance records toward something slower and more atmospheric. “I always compare my work to a jeweler,” Leclair says. “It’s really very precise. I’m a bit of a detail freak. I can spend hours or days on just one phrase in one song. Everything has to be perfectly put together.”

The project began almost accidentally. A few members of Leclair’s circle became pregnant nearly simultaneously, including one who had long believed she couldn’t conceive. The first track he recorded for the project wasn’t meant to advance a larger concept, he says. “It was meant to highlight the fact that three of my closest friends became pregnant at exactly the same time.”

Leclair was already a father with a three-year-old daughter, so the emotional terrain of early parenthood was familiar. Gradually the idea expanded. “I began thinking, why not make a whole album that celebrates this and also follows the entire pregnancy, the nine months,” he says. The music developed piece by piece, including a track originally commissioned by the Berlin experimental duo Rechenzentrum that would later become the album’s opening movement.

Nearly seven years passed between the first composition and the finished album, and the music mirrors the strange arithmetic of pregnancy itself. What begins as a single idea multiplies outward, sounds layering and branching until the album feels less like a sequence of compositions than a living process unfolding in time. “I work very slowly,” Leclair says. “Everything has to be something I’m completely behind. I never want to rush anything. I want things to come naturally.” Across its 72 minutes, the album blossoms with the patience of a long meditation on time, growth and emergence.

When Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes first appeared via Mutek, it circulated quietly but steadily. Critics who discovered it later recognized its unusual scope. In a 2006 Pitchfork review, Mark Richardson gave the record an 8.1, calling “150e Jour” “an unfailingly gorgeous and tightly sequenced quilt of guitar and piano samples reminiscent of Tangerine Dream,” and describing “85e Jour” as infused with “viscous pop ambient drift, the gauzy synth pads ebbing and flowing with rhythm.” Boomkat described the album as “a majestic opus from a producer that's always promised so much — here delving into a panoramic construction of almost visibly radiant music that works so beautifully through each and every second of its 72 minute lifespan.”

The new In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi edition finally presents the record in the format Leclair long imagined. “I always thought that record deserved a vinyl edition,” he says. Spread across two LPs, the music now has room to unfold at its natural pace. More than twenty years after it first appeared, Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes remains what it was from the start: a carefully shaped meditation on transformation and the quiet miracle of life beginning.

The collaborative project of Lawrence English and Werner Dafeldecker has consistently been concerned with processes of transformation. This is all the more true for »Fathom Tides,« the duo’s second album for Hallow Ground following up on »Tropic of Capricorn« from 2023. Using field recordings collected from diverse coastal environments made by English and later treated extensively by Dafeldecker, the two sound artists explore cyclical changes in nature across these seven pieces. Through its abstracted soundscapes, »Fathom Tides« poses concrete questions: What impact do we have on the world we inhabit?

»Tropic of Capricorn« was based on material English had recorded around Australia to highlight the country’s colonial past. On »Fathom Tides,« water and tides provided a conceptual framework for the duo’s remote working process—notions of states of action and tidal dynamics becoming guiding principles in their work with the source material. English and Dafeldecker were led by the question how the morphing of solid forms into more liquid states might be captured and used as compositional guides for their respective preparations treatments and the addition of electronics to the source material.

While eroding coastlines, river systems, and glacial transformation served as inspiration, the seven pieces resulted out of the two sound artists paying close attention to seemingly minute details through which immediate and distant histories peek through often in the most unexpected and rewarding ways. Hence, »Fathom Tides« does not provide a macro view on the catastrophic changes humans have facilitated on Earth. It is its own sound world guided by both the pace of its subjects and a recognition that time is fluid—a reminder that our clocks are not those of the world around us.

There’s a song on There’s A Whole World Out There, the second album by Canadian four-piece Arm’s Length, called “Palinopsia”. Derived from the Greek for “again” (palin) and “seeing” (opsia), it’s a visual phenomenon marked by the persistent image of something that’s no longer actually there. Singer and lyricist Allen Steinberg wrote the song wrote about “pure devotion or love towards someone that may no longer be a part of your life”, but it also applies to the record as a whole.

Because throughout this album’s 12 songs, Steinberg wrestles a with the part of life that’s been and gone. Yet there’s a noticeable difference between the person who wrote this record compared to the one who wrote Arm’s Length’s 2022 debut, Never Before Seen, Never Again Found. “This record speaks more to my life at the moment than the past,” he explains, “even though there’s still a good amount of past on it. But it’s how I’m dealing with it now, as opposed to being enveloped in it—there’s more a sense of being on the other side of it, of seeing it with hindsight. The tone has shifted a little. I’m probably just a bit more mature, as my frontal lobe is developing as we speak.” Produced by Anton DeLost—who worked with the band on Never Before Seen, Never Again Found and 2021’s EP, Everything Nice—There’s A Whole World Out There does indeed expand Arm’s Length’s horizons in accordance with Steinberg’s developing frontal lobe, presenting him as more self-reflective contemplative than he was before. He wrote the parts for all the instruments, as well as the vast majority of the lyrics, alone in his room, and then brought those initial sketches, recorded as voice memos, to drummer Jeff Whyte, who added percussion to Steinberg’s song skeletons. While the majority of the creative process was in Steinberg’s hands, it was only when these songs were recorded as a full band with Jeremy Whyte, who played bass on the record, and Ben Greenblatt that their full potential was realized. The result is that the feelings driving these songs burst and bloom with full force, building on the incredible foundations set by the band’s previous recorded output.

Błoto’s bold 2020 debut brought forth three albums in just twelve months. This prolific creative burst, followed by an ongoing tour and involvement in other projects, meant that fans had to wait over three years for the next release. During this time, new ideas took shape, and the vision for their fourth LP crystallized. The wait for Błoto's new album is nearly over. As always, autumn signals the arrival of Grzybnia (Mycelium).

The idea for the album had been simmering within the band since the release of Kwasy i zasady and finally took shape in late January 2023 at Warsaw's Studio Pasterka, under the careful guidance of Piotr Zabrodzki. It was by far the most fruitful session in the group's history, with ideas flowing in abundance. The chosen tracks not only resulted in two well-received singles, Szlam / Ścieki and Bakteria, but also provided enough material for an EP set to drop next year.

The seemingly chemical title of the album Kwasy i zasady (Acids and Bases) ultimately referred to interpersonal relationships, describing traits that prevent harmony. The album embodied the polarization of societies in the 21st century. The metaphor of Grzybnia (Mycelium) goes a step further. It emphasizes the importance of cooperation as a fundamental skill that can yield various results (fruits, fungi)—both good and bad. Above all, it underscores the power of collective action beyond divisions.

In a complex, unstable modern world that is breaking apart into pieces, the concept of mycelium offers a powerful model. Mycelium thrives in degraded, seemingly lifeless environments created by humans. A key aspect of the broader significance of mycelium is that cooperation benefits all involved parties, where each contributes something and receives something in return. Mycelium is a symbiont, meaning it forms a symbiotic relationship with certain tree species through mycorrhiza, where the roots of the trees and the mycelium exchange essential life-sustaining substances. This results in mutual benefits. The world of mycelium exemplifies cooperation.

A single mushroom, like a person, dies, but mycelium endures, much like humanity itself. Thus, similar to culture, it is immortal. Błoto operates in a manner akin to mycelium. It undoubtedly belongs to the underground realm, embodying the essence of the underground. It is also a destructor of music. In what sense? The Polish Nobel laureate Olga Tokarczuk noted in her book Primeval and Other Times that “... Mycelium thrives by drawing the last remnants of life from what dies, decomposes, and seeps into the earth. Mycelium is the life of death, the life of decay, the life of what has died.” In the same way, Latarnik, Cancer G, Wuja HZG, and OlafSaxx, through their collaboration, process cultural products to create entirely new and surprising combinations. The result of this work is both edible and poisonous mushrooms, manifested in the form of fat beats, house, spiritual jazz, improvised music, illbient, organic techno, and genre-defying electronics.

The peak mushroom season in Poland occurs in autumn, which is why Grzybnia will be released on October 11, 2024, via Astigmatic Records.

Originally released in 2012. A long-in-the-making soundtrack to acclaimed filmmaker Grant Gee's documentary about German writer WG Sebald. »Patience (After Sebald)« is a multi-layered film essay on landscape, art, history, life and loss - an exploration of the work and influence of German writer WG Sebald (1944-2001), told via a long walk through coastal East Anglia tracking his most famous book »The Rings Of Saturn«. Much like The Caretaker's oeuvre, Sebald's works are particularly focused on themes of memory, both personal and collective, making Kirby the ideal candidate for this score.

Grant tasked him with soundtracking responsibilities, but rather than thrift shop shellac, the source material for »Patience« was sourced from Franz Schubert's 1827 piece 'Winterreise' and subjected to his perplexing processes, smudging and rubbing isolated fragments into a dust-caked haze of plangent keys, strangely resolved loops and de-pitched vocals which recede from view as eerily as they appear. Mastered by Lupo at D&M, the album is adorned with another specially commissioned painting by Ivan Seal.

Sem is the first album by Victor Negri under his own name, after a decade making music as Arubu Avua. Released via Stray Signals (Berlin) in partnership with Mutum (Portugal/Brazil), the album was composed between late 2023 and early 2025 during a prolonged period of compounded grief and relocation, and is built upon layers of guitar in irregular loops, alongside samples, experimental electronics, and field recordings.

Begun in Lisbon and finished in Campinas, Brazil, Sem (meaning “without”) deals with loss by juxtaposing new material with unfinished recordings from previous years. As the process unfolded, catharsis emerged as much through editing as through raw expression. The album became a symbolic attempt to glue together fragments and memories from a world that ceased to exist, in order to move forward.

Across its eight tracks, some pieces gradually unfold while others crumble or explode into distortion and feedback, while some seem almost suspended, as if unsure of the next steps. There is a loose trajectory from disorientation and collapse (“Voçoroca”) through astonished frustration (“Não”) and numb acceptance (“Obrigado”), toward a fragile optimism on the closing tracks “Os cacos” and “Boa continuação.” Negri’s first fully instrumental album, Sem contains no vocals at all. That absence emerged gradually after fruitless attempts at songwriting during the period; overwhelm and speechlessness ultimately prevailed. The result leaves room for ambiguity, wandering, and the unfamiliar.

Victor Negri is a Brazilian musician and songwriter. Previously known as Arubu Avua, he makes music framed by noise, feedback, irregular loops, and field recordings.

A guitar stands alone in Wedding, that metropolitan biotope in the western center of Berlin, caught in constant transformation between idyll and abyss. It lets its gaze wander, unsettled, almost shy, until it encounters a trumpet, with which it begins a cautious, then ever more intimate pas de deux.
Welcome to the second studio album by the Berlin-based band Conic Rose.
The album title Wedding is no coincidence. The story of Conic Rose is closely intertwined with the Berlin neighborhood that gives the record its name. The band's studio is located here, and both studio albums were created in the immediate vicinity of the small river Panke. This place settles over the music like a warming patina. The album feels as though the musicians and the neighborhood have invited one another to get to know each other. Not least because Wedding also means marriage. These marriages between a band and an urban landscape, a fading past and an emerging future, fear and hope - unfold in every single song on Wedding.
For their second album, Conic Rose repositioned themselves completely. Not in terms of personnel, but in the question of how to move forward. Conic Rose still sound like Conic Rose; their distinctive blend of cinematic jazz, ambient textures and guitar-led contemporary music remains untouched. And yet Wedding is, in many ways, the conceptual counterpart to their debut album Heller Tag. Where the debut documented movement within an urban setting, Wedding describes a state of being. Behind every piece seems to hover a large question mark.The group opens up its palette, allowing more influences, becoming at once more subtle, more profound, more filigree. It is less about definition than about the spaces in between. The most immediately striking difference from the previous album is the strong presence of the guitar. In Bertram Burkert's playing, many voices seem to converge. His yearning openness forms an equal counterpoint to Döben's trumpet and flugelhorn. Blurred and layered sounds occasionally make the ground seem to slip away beneath one's feet, while Döben's gliding lines create both closeness and distance. Together, the band express in a deeply subtle way a sense of life that corresponds precisely to our time. Something lurks in the background, omnipresent yet still unnameable. Conic Rose need no words to convey this feeling of uncertainty with remarkable eloquence. Perhaps this has something to do with Wedding being a place of confrontational introspection, but Conic Rose confront the escape from escape itself. With the recording and release of Wedding, this process is far from complete. The seed only begins to grow in the listener's ear. With every listen and the echo it leaves behind in memory, the studio bud continues to bloom. The album is merely the point of departure. What ultimately matters is what it sets in motion within those who encounter it.

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Originally released on Ezekiel Honig's Anticipate label in 2007, Standing on a Hummingbird is the debut album by Canadian sound artist Mark Templeton, now appearing for the first time on vinyl, newly remastered by Giuseppe Ielasi and cut by LUPO. Working at the intersection of post-glitch, electroacoustic ambient, and textural minimalism, Templeton composes through restraint and erosion, building patient and richly tactile pieces primarily from acoustic sources - fingerpicked guitar, plaintive banjo, muted accordion tones - subjected to careful processes of granulation, filtering, and environmental masking. These gestures never overwhelm the source material; instead, they wonderfully destabilize it. Melodies appear briefly, only to dissolve into dense atmospheres of field recordings: distant streets, birds, water, air. Sounds hover, vibrate, and vanish, much like the wing beating latent in the album’s title.

Tracks such as “Pattern For a Pillow” and “Amidst Things Uncontrolled” articulate this approach with particular clarity, setting languid acoustic figures against churning granular backdrops that feel at once sheltering and unstable. Elsewhere, moments of fragile clarity - fluttering guitar lines, reedy accordion tones - briefly break the surface before being absorbed back into the field.

Heard today, the record offers a clarion, almost spartan strain of textural ambient music: intricate yet unforced, shaped by human touch rather than automated excess. Its refusal of spectacle feels especially vital in a landscape saturated with maximalist digitalia - a reminder that electronic music’s most enduring gestures often occur where sound is allowed to tremble and hold itself just long enough to be felt before disappearing once again. (Alex Cobb, 2026)

Calibre announces his new album 'Tricklemore Sea', set for release on vinyl and digital on 1st May via Signature Recordings.

A deeply personal and exploratory body of work, the album moves through ambient, shoegaze, electronic, blues and folk, all subtly shaped by the low-end sensibility that has defined his music for decades. It resists easy categorisation, reflecting an ongoing interest in blending bass culture with forms that sit outside it. Following the release of 'They Want You' at the end of 2025, this new project marks a clear shift in tone. Where that record leans into intensity and forward momentum, 'Tricklemore Sea' turns inward, occupying a more introspective space. Featuring entirely his own vocals and production, it carries a more exposed and vulnerable quality.

The album has taken shape gradually, drawing from material written in the years after 'Planet Hearth'. Rather than forming around a fixed concept, it emerges as a collection of pieces connected by tone and instinct. Tracks move between simplicity and abstraction, with piano-led compositions sitting alongside field recordings, improvisations and bass-driven works. Ideas often begin quickly, then evolve over long periods of revisiting and reworking. His voice takes on a more central role throughout, bringing a heightened sense of vulnerability. Lyrics and delivery are often left open, allowing space for interpretation. His process remains fluid and instinctive, with ideas written quickly, revisited over time and combined across different periods.

Moments such as 'Little Blend' carry a quiet melancholia balanced with hope, while 'Free One' reflects on the pressures of contemporary life. The title track considers the scale of human existence within a wider universe, framing individual lives as small but meaningful within something larger. Elsewhere, 'Deflower' and 'Pigeon Luncheon' draw from recordings made in Berlin at the end of lockdown, capturing a sense of movement and return. Older material, including 'Living In Your Head' and 'Hyndsight', is recontextualised and sits naturally alongside newer work. Threads from his wider catalogue remain present. 'Able Son Dub' nods to longstanding reggae influences, while 'Bit Broken Stream' appears here in a downtempo form alongside its drum and bass counterpart from 'They Want You'. Tracks like 'United Pull' and 'Mizzle Mine' lean further into abstraction, using minimal language and space to suggest mood rather than define it.

Over more than 30 years, Calibre has built a catalogue that moves across drum and bass, ambient, dub, techno, house, jazz, soul, blues and folk. His work is marked by restraint, quiet melancholy and a singular approach that continues to evolve. Complete authorship remains central, with all vocals, lyrics and production on both 'They Want You' and 'Tricklemore Sea' created solely by him. This breadth extends into his DJ sets, where he draws heavily from his own catalogue, often performing entirely self-produced material across a wide range of tempos and styles. His ability to move between contexts has seen him play at Boomtown, Houghton and Atonal Berlin, delivering distinct sets while maintaining a clear identity.

With 'Tricklemore Sea', that identity leans toward stillness, introspection and emotional depth. It is a record that prioritises feeling over definition, holding space for ambiguity while remaining grounded in a strong sense of authorship. Each release carries an element of exposure, a moment of vulnerability in letting the work go. At its core, the album seeks to capture something fleeting but recognisable, a sense of beauty that sits just beyond language.

He describes it simply: "The river inside of me flowing into the sea."

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

VERY LIMITED BLACK VINYL WITH DOUBLE-SIDED INSERT (NON-RETURNABLE)

California composer Phil Geraldi’s vinyl debut both refines and refracts his signature muse of interstitial Americana across 11
melted glass mosaics of processed guitar, decayed radio glow, and Harmonia synth horizons: Rural Deceased Undiscovered. He
describes his vision for the pieces as “multilinear,” rearranging classic radio songbook elements like hooks, choruses, and
emotional cues into unfamiliar topographies of “alien country.”

Shards of acoustic guitar and pedal steel flicker in long shadows of amplifier hum and airwave static, like the scrambled
broadcast of some heartland station along a desert highway. It’s music both rustic and placeless, warped by weather and
technology, shimmering like northern lights over the badlands.

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”