Buscar:practice yo!

A deep cut non skip 7" DJ scratch tool by Ritchie Ruftone, with one side at 100 bpm and the flip-side at 83 bpm.

A non-skip DJ scratch tool with new content on vinyl by Ritchie Ruftone.
Digital download included

Packed full of fresh phrases and rearrangements of TTW017 - a deep cut non skip 12" DJ scratch tool by Ritchie Ruftone, with one side at 83bpm and the flip-side at 133bpm.

A non skip DJ scratch tool with ultra-pitch and new content on vinyl by Ritchie Ruftone.
Free digital download included

DMC World Champion and IDA World Champion

Celebrating our tenth year anniversary with a collection of popular scratch phrases taken from each of the Practice Yo! Cuts volumes.

A deep cut non skip DJ scratch tool on vinyl by Ritchie Ruftone.

WHITE 10 inch vinyl
High gloss UV sleeve with silver reflective foil wrap
A side - 100bpm non-skip loops
B side - 133bpm ultra pitch non-skip loops

An ultra-pitch non skip DJ scratch tool with new content on vinyl by Ritchie Ruftone, with one side at 100bpm and the flip side at 133bpm.

Weighing in at 140 gms.

DMC World Champion and IDA World Champion

A deep cut non skip 7" DJ scratch tool by Ritchie Ruftone, with the A side at 83bpm and the B side at 100bpm.

An ultra-pitch non skip DJ scratch tool with new content on vinyl by Ritchie Ruftone.

A side at 100 bpm
B side at 133bpm
Weighting in at 135g

Includes free digital download.

REPRESSED

Defending the 2014 titles for both DMC World DJ Championship and the Battle for World Supremacy. The only DJ in history to win the UK DJ Championsh and Battle for UK Supremacy 2 years running. Ritchie Ruftone brings a skip proof DJ battle tool.

Both sides of the vinyl contain the same scratch samples, one side is 4/4 at 100 bpm and the other utilizing 3/4 ultra-pitch. The 'go to tool' tool for all your scratching needs, regardless of bmp tempos. All samples land on 6 and 12 o'clock. Drop the needle anywhere and practice yo cuts!

DMC World Champion and IDA World Champion. With the all new 'fresh' sound, once again a deep cut non skip 7" DJ scratch tool by Ritchie Ruftone, with one side at 100 bpm and the flip-side at 133 bpm. Weighing in at 40 gms.

Repress in green vinyl !

DMC World Champion and IDA World Champion

Practice Yo! Cuts v9

Packed full of fresh phrases - a deep cut non skip 7" DJ scratch tool by Ritchie Ruftone, with both sides at 100bpm.

Weighing in at 40gms.

DMC World Champion and IDA World Champion

Practice Yo! Cuts v9

BLACK 7 inch vinyl.

Packed full of fresh phrases - a deep cut non skip 7" DJ scratch tool by Ritchie Ruftone, with both sides at 100bpm.

Free digital download included.

Weighing in at 40gms.

An ultra-pitch non skip DJ scratch tool on vinyl by Ritchie Ruftone, with one side at 100 bpm and the flip side at 133 bpm.
Weighing in at 140 gms.

Packed full of fresh phrasing - a deep cut non skip 7" DJ scratch tool by Ritchie Ruftone, with one side at 83bpm and the flip-side at 133bpm.

An ultra-pitch non skip DJ scratch tool with new content on vinyl by Ritchie Ruftone, with one side at 83 bpm and the flip side at 133 bpm.

Pure ultra-pitch deep cut non skip DJ scratch tool on vinyl by Ritchie Ruftone. Digital download also included. Weighing in at 95 gms.

DMC World Champion and IDA World Champion. A deep cut non skip 7" DJ scratch tool by Ritchie Ruftone, with one side at 83 bpm and the flip-side at 133 bbpm. Weighing in at 40 gms.

re-press due in White Vinyl

A deep cut 7' non-skip ultra-pitch scratch tool with the best samples from vol. 1 and vol. 2 remixed. The A side at 83bpm and the B side at 100bpm.

The press, cut and production is the best yet and will certainly be the 'to go to' 7' whilst on the move.

A new standard has been set.

REPRESSED

An ultra-pitch non skip DJ scratch tool on vinyl by Ritchie Ruftone, with one side at 100 bpm and the flip side at 133 bpm - includes non-skip drum loops!

The unconscious element to the conscious process.

The practice of dub techno and its tendrils is a fundamental for me, both aesthetically and from an engineering perspective.

I start every recording session with a dub inspired jam, the first piece I ever recorded in 1996 was an effort to recreate Phylyps Trak with only a Korg X3 and an Ibanez PUE5 (borrowed from Gary Howell). It was an awesome introduction to jamming, and the footing stones of noise, delay and saturation were explored with my foot hard on the enthusiasm pedal.

These practice jams are in some sense cathartic, the first step taken again & again, which helps me move forwards each session and additionally helps to 'warm the circuits' both of myself and the machines.

After realising the genius of Basic Channel is akin to the genius of peasant food, using every ingredient with nothing left to waste, (up to and including the oft maligned working noise of the machines themselves), this was a watershed moment for my own subjective progression. No longer tied to just emulation of something inspiring, but taking these learned tools into other areas of music helped to break free from a strong current of influence and also to progress into other areas with the new toolbox.

Dub:

The importance of the dub pioneers should never be understated, in modern music and my own practice. Yet with my initial inspiration being two german dudes issuing extreme techno variants with obscured label designs, who then signposted their listeners to their own inspirations (via their Wackies re-issues or nodded to on their Rhythm & Sound/Burial Mix sub-labels), meant that I started late and travelled backwards.

Learning to notice the live mixing of Mikey Dread or Lee Perry when the faders are bleeding through even when turned down, (echoed in BC's Quadrant Dub), or the brash send effects literally thrown into the mix also taught me that 'rough' mixing can inject a recording with life, uniqueness and the most right wrongness. Looking back Basic Channels very few elements helped me realise that the rules to be understood, are also the best ones to be broken.

Push the mixer into the red.

Amp that noise up from the tape delay cos it sounds sick.

Pseudo side-chain effects cos the kicks are way too loud and the mixer can't sum it nicely.

Spam the send knob into the delay units now, now and now.

Carelessness.

Noise:

Once I wrapped my head around the intrinsic 'noise' element that set those records apart, this became a torchlight into the alt noise movements which I was tentatively exploring at the time, and also is evidently a connection or thread into them.

Whether the Industrial/Post Punk UK scene (This Heat, TG, A Tent, F.E.) or the prolific output of the US Noise scene (Wolf Eyes, Live & Shave in LA, and subsequently following the lineage all the way back to Chrome's Alien Soundtracks), I had finally discovered a connection from techno to this 'free for all' corner of music.

This input from the Noise arena of sound is, in my experience, an all important step for a sonic artist, taking it's roots and extending out from Stockhausen/Pierre Henry and utilised/warped/mangled by thousands of adventurous pioneers ever since, I now see the line separating the high brow and the low brow is actually an artery carrying information from the head to the heart.

Vault is a selection of these jams that precede each of my solo recording sessions, for 30 years I've recorded hundreds of these 'workouts'. They are never intended as serious statements, just moments of naive enjoyment, yet most importantly they are time & space captured as practice.

The objective is always a warm up exercise, but sometimes those exercises turn a different corner, with a certain focus or direction dependent on what random samples are left in my machines from the previous session, instead of conscious choices, these unconscious elements can facilitate those 'positive mistakes' that make a piece of sound retain a different feel or colour and thus become special, or at least special to the creator.

I am quite conscious that the 'record everything' aspect of my ethos has been invaluable in cataloguing and saving these jams, while the attitude of carelessness during this process (after all, it's only a warm up jam) invites more enjoyment than seriousness ever could. Even if you don't feel the piece at the time, record it, because some years later it may well fit, or become relevant in a way you never intended.

-Miles

Crafting another beautiful experience in sensorial delight, fleet.dreams returns to Vinezza with the label’s 3rd offering “A Voice Without Color” - born from an ever-deepening practice of groove-powered depth tech melded with realms of dubwise kineticism, enchanted cognition, and expressive, dreamlike synthesis.

“A Voice Without Color” finds fleet.dreams’ music in its most rave-activated mode yet, crafting 4 pieces of infinitely mixable spectral matter - all part of their own universe beckoning to be heard under the glow of stars in the night sky, or floating amidst the mesmerizing fog & lights pumping out of the system on your favorite dancefloor.

Awash in kaleidoscopic splendor and psychedelic intrigue, “A Voice Without Color” finds kinship in everything from the best of expansive dancefloor kineticism, time dilated wonder, and the vivid reverbations of the natural world floating in the mix. At once quintessential, contemporary, and ubiquitous is fleet.dreams’ own remarkable production technique, each track unfurling in seemingly endless swells of simmering rhythm and hypnotizing atmospherics - new memories of circadian entrancement in their molten essence, designed to blissfully guide you deeper and deeper towards the primordial exhilaration of movement. Undulating with vivid pulsations and clarion calls for the hips and mind echoing across a spiraling gyre, the sprawling waltz of “A Voice Without Color” glides through dazzling chroma and effulgent radiance greater than the sum of its parts.

Painting with bold, prismatic strokes of iridescent friction amidst the listless gray of our increasingly dispassionate timeline, fleet.dreams delivers another EP of style, substance, and vision for the dancers and DJs alike - a future classic of a possible world ready to be activated together.

*words by Kiernan Laveaux

Early support from: Kiernan Laveaux, Daniel Rincón (NAP), Scott Zacharias & Amelia Holt

opo’s 666ridims (2020 - 2026), compiled by J.TRIPP, brings together tracks from his 666ridims netlabel, reflecting on the singular sound worlds of some of his solo work. Like a discovery made by neutrino sensors, opo’s tracks research the transformation of rhythm, swing, and structure, aiming for a new grid. Sketchy and raw, processing emotions and experiences, regaling stories, and asking questions, opo relates in trance verse. All tracks here breathe his focus on improvisation, experimentation, and collaboration. Some of the beats featured on 666ridims (2020 - 2026) are outlines for freestyles and songwriting ideas, a practice formed during a long-distance music conversation with illustrator, printmaker, painter, designer, and maker Billy Bigwood. Other tracks are more club-oriented, like speculative genres programmed in odd meters. Japanese Barcelona-based DJ Hanakito contributes to one track, using samples and chops sourced from her vinyl imports.

Through Afroelectronic experimentation and diasporic narratives, opo encodes his soul's past and future through his music. Encoded, activated, returned. Initiate only when you receive permission from all your mental fragments. Keep transmissions in mind and dislodge and follow the command cluster's trail. Strongly influenced by sci-fi, ancestral afro musics, jazz, performance art, and food, as musical lines and shards of meaning cascade, 666ridims (2020 - 2026) is a minimalist dive into strange meters, polyrhythm, and the transcendence of ideas. Fast, slow. Exhilarating. We don’t discover physical laws; we just collaborate on them.

Across the past decade, KAS has established herself as a unique voice in experimental electronic music, a composer and synthesist whose work dissolves the boundaries between ambient electronica, contemporary classical, composition, and immersive sound design. Her new album “Ruin: It’s Not Just Music” arrives with a distinctive gravitational pull. The record moves with greater physical force, placing rhythm and impact at the centre of its architecture, revealing a more confrontational and embodied dimension of KAS’s musical language.
The first single “Ruin” arrives May 22nd, with the full album released October 2nd via SOMEONE SPECIAL the new label co-founded by KAS.
Where much of KAS’s earlier work explored harmonic environments, the forthcoming album is built around tension and release. Inspired by the sound of drum and bass, breakbeats fracture through dense fields of synthesis, percussive patterns and her signature melodic fragments – motions that feel closer to the kinetic language of club music than the meditative spaces often associated with her past catalogue. The result is a body of work that feels both recognisably hers and newly charged, music that moves through the body as insistently as it engages the mind.
For listeners who first encountered KAS through the glowing synthesis of “Ears” (2016) or the intricate experimental pop of “The Kid” (2017), this direction may feel initially surprising, yet the shift has been quietly unfolding across the past several years. KAS’s practice has steadily expanded beyond the expectations placed upon experimental electronic artists, moving between orchestral composition, audiovisual installations, film scoring, and large-scale commissions while retaining the unmistakable sonic signature that defines her work.
The 2022 albums “I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon” (2022) and “Let’s Turn It Into Sound” (2022) explored a deeply immersive approach to composition, expanded her reputation and instinct for constructing detailed sonic ecosystems while continuing to blur the lines between experimental electronics and contemporary pop structures. KAS’s most recent output has continued to widen that field including the rhythm oriented electronic album “Gush” (2025) and her return to more orchestral roots with “Thoughts on the Future” (2025). Together these releases underscored the breadth of her practice.
Her prolific collaborators and creative partners have ranged from Patti Smith and Suzanne Ciani to Danny Elfman, Tycho, Glass Beams, RY X, Caribou, Four Tet, Reggie Watts, and Max Richter, while her compositions have appeared in projects with Apple, Chanel, Meow Wolf, the BBC Orchestra, and major film and television productions.
On “Ruin: It’s Not Just Music”, that vocabulary becomes more kinetic than ever before. The record draws energy from jungle, drum and bass, and dance-floor focused electronic music while retaining the intricate synthesis and tonal curiosity that have defined KAS’s work from the beginning. The result is a record that feels equally at home within club culture, contemporary composition, and the experimental spaces that have long championed her artistry.
On May 27th KAS will present a major performance at London’s Barbican Centre alongside the London Contemporary Orchestra, marking the ten-year anniversary of her landmark album Ears. The evening will trace the arc of her creative evolution while also introducing material from the new album.

Curses' dark, romantic take on electronic music is often linked to EBM, new beat, synth-pop, and the offshoots in between - but, as the artist states, it's feelings, not genres, that motivate his music. Especially the underground and its niche sounds, brimming with collective energy, drive and passion, make for a major impetus. It's no coincidence that he's drawn to the era when man turned to the machine, as a collaborative force, and a new kind of liveliness, timelessness, emerged. In Curses' practice, this synergy translates into an enticing mix of synthesisers and voices, electronic drums and guitars. Nostalgia operates as an influence rather than a motive, though: despite its affinities with the past, his music is stridently contemporary and idiosyncratic. On the "Perfect High" EP, this approach is rendered in a resolutely dancefloor-oriented selection. It's rich in detail and constantly evolving; each time a new element appears, it's treated with such delight and care that you could imagine the track to flit off and turn it into the main theme. This doesn't happen, however, as the sense of cohesion and momentum is paramount: there's a relentless forward drive that keeps engagement tight from start to finish. The detuned, chorus-heavy leads of title track "Perfect High" and the clockwork-tinged percussion of "Weapon Of Time" jell with lustrous hooks. The ominous choirs on "Dare To Dream" and the proto rolling-and-scratching squelches of "Killer Instinct" similarly fall into place. Bravado never stands in the way of flow. Everything is kept in check by gated R-50 rhythms, and in the vocal department, Curses finds the sweet spot between his own voice and a slew of off-kilter samples. On closer "Blasted" NYC royalty Andi joins for a slab of synth-driven groove. It's shiny and sensuous, like patent leather - a perfect distillation of club music channeled through pop aesthetics, and thus a right coda for ALT028.

The Nu’rons were a family group consisting of two sets of brothers and cousins, the four young men in question being brothers Daryl Howard and Raymond Gibson (Daryl’s mother registered him under his father’s surname of Howard and Raymond under her maiden name of Gibson) together with Otho Bateman and Charles Bateman. They were all born and raised in Salem, New Jersey and from the age of ten and eleven began singing with a fifth member and Gibson brother Rudolph as a group called The Gospel 5. They eventually decided to crossover to secular music and as a group known for their energetic dance routines they came up with the new performing name of ‘The Nu’rons’ (taken from the word ‘Neuron’ which is a cell that transmits nerve impulses). However Rudolph was soon to leave the group due to physical illness. Also Daryl Howard and Charles Bateman had also been part of a working group known as The Devotions prior to becoming The Nu-Ron’s.Following hours of practice The Nu’rons eventually felt confident enough to put their own shows together and began to perform at local dances and parties around New Jersey and Philadelphia, often being used as a non-paid warm up act for bigger named artists. They moved between several different managers including Jimmy Bishop (Duo Dynamic Productions) until they came under the tutelage of WDAS radio DJ Georgie Woods (his wife Gilda, being the owner of the Philadelphia Gil, Dion and Top & Bottom record Labels). It was Georgie who introduced them to Manny Campbell who in turn invited them to an audition at his and partner Charles Bowen’s Emandolynn Music studio in Chester P.A. The song The Nu’rons chose to audition with was the self penned “I’m A Loner”, the audition went well, as during late January/early February of 1970 Manny and Charles took The Nu’rons into the Sigma Sound Studio’s with Tom Bell and the TSOP musicians to record “I’m A Loner” and “All My Life” which was released on the Nu-Ron label in April of the same year. The two studio takes presente don this release came short after the band moved on from the collaboration with producer Emanuel Campbell to take music matters in their own hands. Beside recording "Disco Hustle" to be part of the disco boom in Philly of the times, they recorded also “You Came Thru”, a rough yet beautiful heavy bassline driven soul funk recording, and the just amazing “Hurry Up Tomorrow”, here presented in one of the original Studio takes.

„Öd“ marks the long-awaited return of Institut für Feinmotorik - the Black Forest collective known for using eight prepared turntables to investigate acoustic micro-phenomena generated by everyday objects - with a new album and their first full-length release on Faitiche. It is also the return of their almost comical understatement as personal artistic principle: „making almost nothing out of almost nothing,“ compressed into the dots on an umlaut.

The Öd-nis, the wasteland, is a field that the collective has been ploughing in sound since their first release in 1997. Eight prepared turntables, four mixers, no records, six hands (give or take) merge into what they call the „Octogrammoticum“. A rotating organism of surfaces in friction, fed with the clutter from a drawer: rubber bands or tin foil, CDs, a discarded socket board. Under IFF's scrutinizing stylus, mundane almost-nothings get scratched open to reveal the acoustic density of negative space itself.

Last year’s „Adhesive Tape“ drew IFF closer together after an almost ten-year hiatus. An eponymous event series at Berlin's silent green set in motion what would become their most twistedly funky release since „Penetrans“ on Staubgold in 2002.

The only thing öd about „Öd" (meaning „barren" or „boring“ in German) may well be its title: layers of improvised play and randomized loops convolve around porous, dubby groove locks, tugging at each other in a call-and-response with howling static that cuts through bulbous ambient techno into a scrap-metal Dixieland phantasm. Stratified yet spacious, these sonic double exposures always hover on the verge of collapsing. What you think you hear might not be what you actually hear.

The album’s track titles resemble Conceptual Poetry, extending this psycho-phenomenological gesture into the realm of spoken language. Conceived by renowned poet Dagmara Kraus, they become word molecules - „stern,” „dies,” „lose“ - tilting delicately between German and English, constantly changing depending on the ear’s perspective and pointing back to the deeply unstable fabric connecting meaning and sound. Which also makes „Öd“ an unusual cross-disciplinary collaboration - at least in the field of electronic music.

PS: Since its beginnings in Bad Säckingen, IFF has always been more than the sum of its rotating parts, moving tirelessly between multimedia art, theory, solo projects and collaborations. With IFF Expanded, the collective now opens its eight-doored apparatus, inviting artists working with CDJs or samplers to join - an ambitious live format that loosens its former purity law while carrying forward a long-standing curatorial practice. The same thread also runs into the related event series Acephalic Headspace.

Institut für Feinmotorik (*1997), artist-group originating from Black Forest working in various fields. In musical context known for transforming turntables into instruments by removing the records and instead applying rubber bands, paper scraps, household materials – resulting in a vivid laboratory for the productive misuse of everyday objects. This approach is documented in record releases and performed live.

We are Excited to announce - The Department of Almost with our first full-length LP - Second Office. The Album
will be released via WSNWG on October 9th.
„Developed over extended Berlin studio sessions in January 2026, the record brings together two artists whose
respective platforms, STOOR and WSNWG, have long embraced artistic exchange and open creative practice.
Moving between crafty dancefloor material and more reflective and exploratory compositions, the album
develops a shared sonic language that extends beyond their two unmistakable, longestablished artistic voices.
Across eleven compositions, deliberate dancefloor material is elegantly intertwined with calm and spacious
soundscapes. A propulsive current gives way to passages of suspension and introspection. While rhythm and
atmosphere gradually fold into one another, the record favours gradual transformation over dramatic gesture.
The album's quieter moments open up a more contemplative space, extending its emotional register without
departing from its forward motion. Beneath, a subtle and understated sense of distance evokes spacious
environments and glacial landscapes – topographies in cold light.“
We have setup a preorder with the first Single - Fingerprints - on Bandcamp. A limited special edition will be
released via WSNWG Bandcamp on September 4th - 12.00pm CET.
All Tracks Written, Produced & Performed by Speedy J & Rødhåd in January 2026 at WSNWG Studio in Berlin.
Mastered by Conor Dalton at Calyx Mastering Berlin Vinyl Cut by Lathesville Mastering Berlin
Cover Foto by Thomas Beutel


a A1 Cold Start 260114
[b] A2 Felt Temperature [260116.1]
[c] A3 Fingerprints [260116.3]
[d] B1 Your Neighbours Dog [260123.1]
[e] B2 Double Shot (Floor Mix) [260119.1]
[f] B3 Borrowed Lime [260120.1]
[g] C1 Ulli’s Car [260125.2]
[h] C2 Series Of Events [260120.2]
[i] D1 Made In Finland [260123.2]
[j] D2 Wolken [260125.1]
[k] D3 Double Shot [260119.1]

[a] A1 Cold Start [260114]
[b] A2 Felt Temperature [260116.1]
[c] A3 Fingerprints [260116.3]
[d] B1 Your Neighbours Dog [260123.1]
[e] B2 Double Shot (Floor Mix) [260119.1]
[f] B3 Borrowed Lime [260120.1]
[g] C1 Ulli’s Car [260125.2]
[h] C2 Series Of Events [260120.2]
[i] D1 Made In Finland [260123.2]
[j] D2 Wolken [260125.1]
[k] D3 Double Shot [260119.1]

[a] A1 Cold Start [260114]
[b] A2 Felt Temperature [260116.1]
[c] A3 Fingerprints [260116.3]
[d] B1 Your Neighbours Dog [260123.1]
[e] B2 Double Shot (Floor Mix) [260119.1]
[f] B3 Borrowed Lime [260120.1]
[g] C1 Ulli’s Car [260125.2]
[h] C2 Series Of Events [260120.2]
[i] D1 Made In Finland [260123.2]
[j] D2 Wolken [260125.1]
[k] D3 Double Shot [260119.1]

Rasante Gitarren, hämmernde Drums und eingängige, aber tiefgründige Texte. Das sind die Mittel, mit denen Pardoner seit über einem Jahrzehnt ihre ,Slacker"-Songs formen. Auf ihrem fünften Album ,Target Practice" verfeinern sie ihren Ansatz weiter, auf der Suche nach einem himmlischen Pop-Hit Ö. Da sie einen kulturellen Rückfall in Richtung Math-Rock und Prog spüren, ist dies ihr bisher geradlinigstes Album. Fehlende sind die überraschenden Blast Beats und Szenenwechsel, die die Markenzeichen von ,Came Down Different" (2021) und ,Peace Loving People" (2023) waren. Übrig bleiben 10 prägnante Songs, geprägt von verspielter Boshaftigkeit und Satire. Es ist schwer, inmitten der feindseligen Kräfte dieser Welt kein ,Blackpilled"-Doomer zu sein. Die Angriffe der Band auf pseudo-intellektuelle Hochkunst und Kollegen aus der Szene sind jedoch nicht frei von Selbstkritik. ,Driving across the country // Preaching bulls**t gospel" wird auf der Lead-Single ,Twisted" halb gesungen, begleitet von klirrenden Gitarrenklängen. ,Target Practice" - vom ,Record Store Final Boss" abgesegnet - ist eine moderne, spritzigere Interpretation des College-Rock der 80er/90er. Flying Nun, Smudge und die lautere Seite von Yo La Tengo sind alle im Geiste präsent. Die Single ,Don't Slouch" ist ein Versuch, einen Blessed-Virgins-Song auf Xanax-Art zu interpretieren. Wann wurde diese Band das letzte Mal auf einem One-Sheet erwähnt? Vor ihrem Album-Closer ,Changing Mags", bei dem die Band ihr Herz auf der Zunge trägt, covern sie die Nuggets-nahen The Barracudas, deren Text ,Target Practice" auf den Punkt bringt: ,Ich bilde mir das nicht ein, ich sehe die Zeichen. Wir leben in gewalttätigen Zeiten."

Verdad Y Error (2026) resides in the tension between the thrashing of external noise and beating centred internal calm. Gibrana Cervantes is known for her work across experimental music and contemporary performance, a practice with focussed intensity and surging physicality, often pushing the limits of endurance, presence, and embodiment. A central axis of her performance practice is her ongoing collaboration with acclaimed choreographer Florentina Holzinger, including composing the music for SEA WORLD (2026), Florentina Holzinger’s critically acclaimed installation for the Austrian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale. Alongside this, she is a core member of the experimental ensemble Amor Muere (Mabe Fratti, Concepción Huerta, and Camille Mandoki). Cervantes maintains an active recording practice that directly informs her live output including her collaboration Memoria (2025), with Colombian Drone Mafia (Nyksan) for Ambie-Tón (Tratratrax),

Verdad y Error is a record of her artistic approach which expands her body and the violin’s horizon of possibility to near breaking point. Cervantes uses a register closely associated with Metal, yet buried deep in the alchemy of these pieces are motifs which hark back to her classical background. Across these pieces the violin is used as an instrument with a fragmented and shifting voice — blurred, repeated, and reshaped through distortion. “Many of these pieces come from images, memories, and sensations that have stayed with me for years. I'm interested in the blurring of what actually happened and what time transforms.” The recordings are built with layers of violin tones which oscillate between recognisable, processed, stretched and shifted, and lay embedded in a frequency stratum of volatile static and noise. “The violin on this album doesn't appear as a clean instrument. I process it, repeat it, distort it, and multiply it until it begins to feel more like memory than melody. Something blurry, shifting, difficult to grasp.” The origins of the album were born at a time when Cervantes was seeking inner calm amidst a relentless external noise, questioning the validity or possibility of memory and its radically changing perception in relation to experience. Subsequent reflection on this contemplative moment allowed her to develop a relational music which moves through memory, erosion, repetition, and emotional ambiguity. Creating a space that feels both intimate and unstable, mercurial with the patina of lived imperfection.

Akin to the unreliable narrator and linguistic instability, each piece functions as an emotional landscape suspended between clarity and confusion. An album which balances melody, brutality, fragility and noise
throughout its sprawling recordings and artwork, which operates as an analogue to the music. The visual world of the album developed in collaboration with Mauro Ventura was compiled across various media with a mix of handwritten texts, burned typography, metallic textures, and fragile physical materials. “I wanted the record to feel tactile and imperfect — something emotionally direct but physically worn.” says Cervantes. More than offering explanations, verdad y error exists as a conversation between memory and disappearance, noise and stillness, truth and error.

In a blizzard of crushed breaks and dissonant tones, Shelley Parker lands on Sneaker Social Club with her third album, Screed. Taking a forensic approach to noise sculpture and harmonic interference, the UK-based artist maintains a fringe perspective on the legacy of hardcore-derived dance music, extrapolating the renegade spirit of the earliest innovators into unexplored zones where sound art and sound systems collide.

Parker's path through the underground has been informed by her art school background, equally at home in the parallel world of galleries, installations and institutions as she is in the club. This dualistic dimension to her practice charges her music with an outsider spirit that manifests across 10 striking new productions on Screed. Focusing on the sound over an umbrella concept, it's an album that rejects comfortable, functional formulae in favour of original expression.

There are plenty of forthright structures for DJs and dancers to lock onto, from the militaristic techno thrust and tightly clipped breakbeat loop of 'Relentless' to the splayed boom bap guiding the giddy string sequences of 'Stargazer Lily'. The insistent pulse of 'April' meanwhile offers only the faintest of paths to navigate dense thickets of jerky, swinging static and metallic clamour. 'Georgian Wire' closes the record out on dissembled drum licks with a brittle patina - a scooped out closer with the skeletal remains of a rave dialect that's second nature to someone with as much skin in the game as Parker.

In amongst those tracks lies a wide-ranging tapestry of rhythmic, textural and emotional approaches, from head-knocking beatdowns to billowing clouds of dub techno, angular stabs and industrial smudges. On Screed, Parker proves herself to be peerless and purposeful in her quest to find new forms within the well-worn canon of hardcore and rave.

Corps Perdu emerges from Lamin Fofana’s ongoing practice of creating immersive and multisensory sound environments, informed and inspired by the historically rich texts of scholars and poets working in the tradition of Black Studies. The words of W.E.B. Du Bois, Sylvia Wynter, Dionne Brand, Fred Moten, Édouard Glissant, Suzanne Césaire and Aimé Césaire are transmuted and circulated as sound, offered to listeners through radio, live events, albums and installations. Fofana honours his sources with an audible historical awareness, yet his sounds always simultaneously open out into the turbulent uncertainties of the present.
The music we hear on the album Corps Perdu was previewed within a series of collective reading and listening sessions carried out in Paris, Barcelona, Tunis and New York City, where voices from the audience read aloud fragments from a body of texts Fofana had selected. The spontaneous unfolding of close reading and listening, mixed live by Fofana in these collective listening experiences, speaks to the open-ended quality of Corps Perdu. The album, now published, is but one iteration of this ongoing inquiry into the relationship between sound and text.
Corps Perdu presents an introspective journey with no return, and as such is full of omens of all kinds. Across ten tracks Lamin Fofana creates a sibling or companion to the transformation he initiated in his previous album Works in Metal, building a narrative that takes us into Krakatoa prior to its eruption, and lets us listen to Césaire’s ‘flying seed dreaming very loudly’. The album’s track titles and narrative arc hum in and out and alongside Césaire’s poetry, mainly Césaire’s 1950 collection Corps Perdu, in which the ten poems are accompanied by engravings by Picasso merging fragments of bodies and plants—a collaboration that emerged from their first encounter two years earlier, at the Communist-led World Congress of Intellectuals for Peace, in Wroclaw, Poland.
The music on Corps Perdu labours intuitive hand-held melodies through dense processing. There are many rhythms throughout, though these never surrender to the density of the dancefloor grooves we’ve heard Fofana craft on previous albums (think of the ‘Obscure Light’ pair from Works in Metal for example). Instead, Fofana gently releases the clenched hands Césaire’s Corps Perdu begins with: ‘Among me, from myself, to myself, outside any constellation, clenched in my hands only, the rare hiccup of an ultimate raving spasm, keep vibrating word’. The album carries through sound the scattering and liquid fragmentation that shape the desperate metamorphosis of a ‘lost body’.

Phenomena begins with two artistic voices that seem to speak different languages. Barcelona-based producer R-010 (Lucas Rojo) approaches composition through rhythm, space and electronic transformation; Madrid-born vocalist and multidisciplinary artist Venerandi through texture, breath and the expressive possibilities of the human voice. By the time the album reaches its final moments, that distinction has quietly disappeared.

Rather than functioning as a meeting point between two individual practices, Phenomena gradually
becomes a third language—one that belongs to neither artist alone. Voice no longer sits above the music
but moves inside it, dissolving into layers of synthesis, percussion and guitar until performance itself
becomes another malleable sound source. Likewise, electronic production never behaves as a fixed
environment; it constantly adapts, absorbs and responds, allowing acoustic gestures and digital
manipulation to reshape one another in real time.

This continuous transformation defines the record more than any particular genre ever could. Echoes of trip hop, bass music, psychedelia and experimental electronics drift across its surface, yet they are never
presented as stylistic markers. Instead, they appear as temporary states within an ecosystem that remains
in constant motion, where dense rhythmic passages collapse into suspended atmospheres and moments
of stillness carry as much weight as those driven by pulse.

The presence of Matteo Caro (guitar and percussion), Pablo Gorostiaga (guitar) and Alessio Rodolico
(percussion) further expands this dialogue. Their contributions are not decorative additions but structural
ones, gradually dissolving the distinction between composition, improvisation and production. Instruments
emerge, mutate and disappear inside the same sonic fabric, making it increasingly difficult to distinguish
what was performed from what was transformed.

With Phenomena, Lapsus Records presents a work that feels less interested in crossing genres than in
questioning the borders between artistic identities themselves. The album never asks the listener to decide
where the human ends and the machine begins. Instead, it quietly suggests that, after enough careful
listening, the question itself may no longer matter.

Melissa Weikart and her piano have proceeded through life in step, from her early classical


training to the experimental practice that defines her work today, a blending of sounds and forms that has never been so clear—and so fully realized—as on her new album, Contact. Across twelve shifting and evocative tracks that examine the connective tissue binding us to ourselves and others, the Franco-American musician’s voice and piano navigate personal and emotional terrain with clarity and nuance, forging a rich dialogue between artist and instrument, artist and self, and artist and listener.


Winner of the 2022 Nancy Jazz Pulsations emerging artist award and the instrumentalist prize at the 2023 La Défense National Jazz Competition, Weikart has released two EPs and an album as a solo artist, and one EP and an album—Surprise and Secret—with her electronic duo Beatrice Melissa. A student of jazz and ’70s folk-pop, and a keen lover of improvisation since her time at the New England Conservatory in Boston, Weikart has always conjured the confessional candor of the singer- songwriter in her music, even as she dispenses her lyrics across rich, shifting, dreamlike tableaux.


On Contact, written and arranged entirely by Weikart (aside from “New angles”), she pushes her sound further than ever before. The album is animated by a pressing need for connection, observing what brings us together and what drives us apart, and the life-saving revelations that emerge along the way. The album’s opener, “Crash,” is a dreamy telephone-hour ode, a message in a bottle, to connections new and old. On the wistful “Mesurer le vent,” Weikart conjures Debussy or Ravel, layering contrasting sounds like an Impressionist painting. The title track begins as a showcase of Weikart’s frank lyricism, a splice-reel of missed connections and wasted time, then glides into a hazy, euphoric galaxy of pleas, circling around her thesis—“I wanted to make contact”—that ushers us into “The Intersection,” a song that recalls her the beginning of her career, when it was just Weikart and her keys. “Appétit.e” is built around a sample of her down-the-hall neighbor’s drumming—another subtle, affecting gesture toward proximity and connection—while pulsating synths reminiscent of Air lend the track an unsteady atmosphere. On the Carpenters-inspired “Expectations,” Weikart muses on the relationship patterns, universal and specific, that have always been a hallmark of her songwriting.

The psychedelic “L’amour de construit” is a slow-motion fall down the rabbit hole, as Weikart
considers the way her own emotions are captured and commodified by the confining ways we think about love. The interlude—“L’amour pt. 2”—finds her near the end of that trip, shouting into the void as a last-ditch effort to rescue herself from the fall. The drums near the end of the interlude warn us that there may be no cushion for, until she is saved, again, by the power of revelation, on the confident, resilient “Not Right”—on which a show-stopping, frenetic conversation between singer and piano is gracefully interrupted by a rush of transcendent strings, lifting her back up.

On solid ground anew, “New angles,” featuring Manu Delta, creates a percussion-less groove that relies on experimental synth sounds. The 11-o’clock stunner “Catching up”—composed in a church—meets the singer in a state of ecstatic confession, bringing her to the formative memory that propels “Bicycle,” the album’s closer. Younger, more wide-eyed, she reflects on her move from Boston to Strasbourg, those early days, when Weikart had no other companion than that loyal hunk of scrap metal that took her to the shores of her own soul. She seems to suggest, on “Bicycle,” that a backward-glance is not always troublesome, not always anxiety-producing, but can be grounding: a reminder of where we come from, so that we can keep moving forward.

Hanne Lippard and Renato Grieco's Today's Special is a suite of language works synthesising melody and diction that integrates the literary and the audible in a repertoire of songs that bask in the melody of voice and the punctuations of structured composition. Working with methods of reduction rather than opulence in both tonal composition and rhetoric, each piece pegs the poetic to the musical with compositional schematics and methods. It is important to state that there is little to none improvisation here, instead, the duo set up matrices, rules and structural links that facilitated meaningful locus of exchange between their two practices. Lippard's texts are a collection of new and previously completed works. In these, as is typical for her work, she enjoys the easy pleasure of wordplay, iterative language, and decontextualised anecdote, as in opener Portrait of a Betrayal, a piece about the loss of a phone and the way it haunted the owner who dropped it, based on a lived experience. Grieco's instrumentation works with Lippard's language art as a form of acoustic typography. "I studied graphic design and I think about how you can express typography through voice," she says. "Renato's use of the viola da gamba becomes like an underline, or a font's brushstrokes, in ways that feel typographical." In this, the classically-trained composer Grieco often finds and echoes the pitch movements of Lippard's voice, intonation mirrored and revealed, linguistic meaning doubled and shadowed by plucked, strummed or bowed strings. His main instrument is the viola da gamba, the instrument considered closest to the human voice for its tonal range and ability to mimic inflections and timbre, and here he brings it even closer to the voice, building systems by which it moves with and around Lippard. He also plays piano and Wurlitzer, and joins her in speaking on Receiver and in conversation for final track The Black Rose. "Hanne's voice is an artist's voice, embodied as the artwork itself," he says. "But where my approach is from the perspective of a composer, hers is around rhetoric and language. We worked towards each other in this sense, Hanne finding a space to welcome my voice, and me designing an acoustic space to enhance her vocal persona." In some tracks the structural connections are obvious - the matched tumbling delivery and stepped pitches of voice and piano in Aficionado sounding like two tipsy friends descending a staircase. In others, like the triptych of tracks Three Rungs Ladder, structured with rules derived from nursery rhymes, or cumulative song (akin to the 12 Days of Christmas). For the Colour 1 and Colour 2 pieces, the duo worked from palettes of colours connected to clusters of harmonies, which underlined the power of the word and its articulation. The absurd Labradorable personifies a people pleaser, A Story About Being Blue is an imagined playful monologue from the Deep Blue supercomputer - requesting in sing-song stop motion to be called Debbie, and Larry - as Grieco echoes in factual reportage. Hurtbeat unpacks and recomposes a tweeted non-apology by a Russian art collector about owning a piece of racist art, Grieco shadowing Lippard's generating a third `drop-shadow' performer from the resonances between the duo, typographic re-articulation of the source material. The Receiver includes lines from Robert Ashley's Improvement (Don Leaves Linda), Ashley existing as a spiritual parent of sorts to the practices contained on Today's Special, and here interpolated as if he is being quoted and written through within the audible world of the piece in a palimpsest of borrowed sentences. Closing track The Black Rose contains its own self-aware comedy, a lightly distorted conversation sourced from a Reddit thread about whether black roses exist, recorded as if it were an internet radio or a low budget podcast, the casual exchange stilted in the delivery of platitudes as scripted speech. Today's Special was developed in person over the course of a series of small residencies - at Deutsche Akademie Rom Villa Massimo, Rome; Fondazione Morra, Napoli; Callie's, Berlin. In these limited periods that rarely stretched beyond a week, Lippard and Grieco developed strategies for the works, keeping tightly locked to musical concepts. This, for Grieco, is about maintaining a solid, meaningful connection within the compositions, and committing to everything having a purpose for existing within the work. Each element pulls its weight; has something to say, literally and metaphorically speaking. In the same way that Lippard's work leaves nowhere for her to hide, he wants the music to exist with its own naked purpose: "It's is about exposing nudity via reduced materials," says Grieco. "This is a form of courage we want to embrace. Once we take off everything, it needs to be extremely precise to maintain a connection with the audience. We have a lot of tools to hide behind now, to protect ourselves and our identities as artists, performers, and in life more generally. It's something I don't want to do. I want extreme reduction: no hiding."

Timeless – yet always fresh: Regardless of the whims of the pop business, Planet Yello has been making its rounds for almost fifty years, repeatedly whisking us away to a world where past and future greet each other and James Bond joins forces with the Man in the Moon, Dionysus and Philip K. Dick.

"To the future, through the past"—with their fifteenth studio album, "Time Lab," Dieter Meier and Boris Blank put this maxim into practice more vividly than ever. Blank meticulously crafts his imaginary soundtracks from fresh samples and found objects from his own archive, which has accumulated a vast collection of sonic fragments, riffs, and motifs over nearly fifty years of creative work. Meier immerses himself in these parallel soundscapes, discovering within them his romantic tales of robbers, mysterious night creatures, and Dadaist wordplay. Essentially, every Yello track is both ancient and brand new at the same time. This principle is perfectly illustrated by the first single, "Around the Sun." It's based on a dormant Meier recording that was cut at the last minute from the selection for "Claro Que Si" (1981). Blank gave Meier's sonorous voice a fresh sonic makeover – the result is an elegant and flexible, thoroughly Yello-esque combination of past and present, romantic wanderlust and driving percussion. "Break Out" also plays with stylistic elements that can be traced back to Yello's earliest days: a dangerously prowling bass riff, fiery percussion, and storyteller Meier in hypnotic top form.

Time begins where it ends, or vice versa. Or, as Boris Blank says: "Yello's music doesn't really know time."