Cerca:recall one

Acclaimed musician, producer, and multi-instrumentalist Kutiman returns with 'Dreams In Aspamia' - a stunning new 6-track EP of dreamy, instrumental cinematic funk, rich with trip-hop, jazz, and global music textures. Best known for his visionary fusion of groove, psychedelia, and visual art - Kutiman crafts a hypnotic journey here: jazzy guitars, double bass, analogue keys, and otherworldly manipulated vocals flow through lush, panoramic arrangements that recall Khruangbin, El Michels Affair, SAULT, and BADBADNOTGOOD.

This strictly limited one-off pressing comes on deep purple coloured vinyl with a hallucinogenic full-colour sleeve designed by Berlin-based artist Philipp Carbotta. Meticulously mixed by longtime collaborator Obas Nenor, it's a bold yet meditative listen - equally suited for audiophile immersion or chilled late-night sessions.

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce Spilla, the second album from Nantes-based Ensemble Nist-Nah, 48 minutes of music for Gamelan, drum kits, wood and metal percussion instruments, and plucked strings that will surely count as one of the most electrifying records you hear this year. Founded by the Australian drummer/percussionist Will Guthrie in 2019, continuing the explorations begun in solo form on Nist-Nah (Black Truffle, 2020), the ensemble (eight or nine core members with occasional guests) has been consistently active in the half-decade since: composing, rehearsing, recording and touring Europe (with a mass of equipment in tow) to great acclaim. Spilla tracks the continuing evolution of the project since the recording of their first album, Elders (Black Truffle, 2022). The two sides of this record document two different iterations of the group, and the members' compositional input has increased: each side contains one piece by a member other than Guthrie. It has become clearer than ever that Ensemble Nist-Nah is not an attempt at a European Gamelan ensemble but rather a hybrid percussion ensemble that uses instruments from a Javanese Gamelan alongside other percussion to perform original music informed by a variety of South East Asian music but also by everything from free jazz to contemporary hip-hop: while Nist-Nah and Elders both featured traditional Javanese pieces, on Spilla the only tune not generated by a member of the group is by Guthrie’s long-time musical hero and occasional collaborator Roscoe Mitchell.

The two short pieces that open the record could almost be the two sides of a wild 7” selected to show off what the Ensemble can do. On opener ‘Gerak Maju’, intricately skittering open-snare patterns bounce over clanging metal, chiming bell-like tones and deep gong hits, adapting the rhythm-register connections heard in traditional Gamelan musics—where the lowest pitched sounds are heard least frequently—to a cut-up breakbeat straight off Feed Me Weird Things. ‘Strollabout’ then moves into an entirely different realm of meditative repeating patterns, performed entirely on Chinese, Javanese and Vietnamese gongs. The remaining seven pieces, ranging from three to twelve minutes, offer up a wealth of different percussive, compositional and arrangement possibilities. On ‘Ghostly Klang’, two drumkits mirror each other’s moves, bouncing hats and snares across the stereo field in a way that recalls On the Corner and the jittering hi hat patterns of trap, while slow moving melodies on the tuned instruments add a sense of majesty contrasted by scurrying details in resonant wood. The epic closing track presents a take on Roscoe Mitchell’s ‘Uncle’, performed by the Art Ensemble of Chicago on their classic Urban Bushmen live album. Where the Art Ensemble used Mitchell’s dirge-like melody as a jumping off point for virtuosic improvisational flights, Ensemble Nist-Nah rethink the piece as a near-static dialogue between the monumental, slow-moving sequence of unison tuned percussion notes and a textural cloud that grows in richness and intensity from whispering cymbal rolls into a mass of gong overtones and bowed metal.

Beautifully recorded and mixed, Spilla arrives in a sleeve decorated with core member Charles Dubois’ drawings of cymbals and gongs. Against the backdrop of a wider musical landscape dominated by over-produced electronic slop and bland harmonic wallpaper, Ensemble Nist-Nah stands out as a reminder, vital and unpretentious, of the joys and possibilities of human beings playing instruments together.

Silver Tears is the new joint venture by Berlin-based gent Luca Venezia and Damian Shilman, respectively of Curses and Skelesys’ fame.

The duo first debuted in 2023 on Next Wave Acid Punx Deux (Chapter 2) compilation delivering one track rich with deep bass lines, crystal clear guitars and captivating mechanical drums. One somehow classic formula enriched by an universal allure that left you hoping for more. And here we are: these charming men have been working hard for the past two years and their first, self-titled full-length album is now ready.

Eight new cuts of elegant electronic beat-driven coldwave with baritone vocals, sharp arpeggios and no lack of slow passages, recalling 90’s shoegaze or moody grunge. A subtle play of juxtaposition of dancing moments and introspective retreats, dancefloor-oriented grooves and caustic precipices, sometimes crowned by the two dueting at vocals. One wide musical cape to cloak all the angles of the Goth subculture and prove how this can still be relevant some many years after it first bursted out.

limited to 500 copies

"Bassland Prophecy" was a collection of Southern California musicians, including Alex Xenophon (Deep Squared), Stuart Breidenstein (formerly of Skylab 2000), Alissa Kueker (vocals), and Maxx Vaxx (Euterpre, Butterfly Garden).

The act nourished and grew the emerging LA scene and was a renegade force in live electronic improvisation. Rather than composing full tracks, Breidenstein stated over email that they built musical "ingredients" on the fly, syncing DOS and hardware sequencers mid-performance. Their unpredictable sets, from illegal raves to makeshift desert parties, resulted in electrifying, unforgettable sonic trips.

Recalling 90s LA, Breidenstein said: “Before the internet, finding a rave was an adventure. You’d get a flyer with a phone number, call it the night of the event, then drive—sometimes 100 miles or more from a map point to the actual party. The scene was raw and underground, built by music obsessives hunting for the freshest sounds.”

Two standout tracks from 1996—“Nine / Deeper” and “Blue and Purple Starship of Trust”—perfectly represent their unique genre-bending concoctions. Against all odds, the recordings survived and have been given new life, remastered and reissued on Bristol-based *Sex Tapes From Mars*. To produce the wizardry, their setup included a Juno 106, Yamaha FB-01, a Roland S330 sampler, and a Sequential Circuits Pro-One mono synth with external MIDI, and some guitar effects pedals.

“Nine / Deeper,” born from one of their many spontaneous studio sessions, became eerily intertwined with recurring appearances of the number 9 and black cats. So much was the frequency of apophenia episodes that paranoia began to take over the artists. Recorded in a makeshift living room studio, the 14-minute excursion traverses genres and tempos, beginning quick and hypnotic, and climaxing chuggy and drenched in adlibbed acid lines, culminating in a surreal and legendary live performance in Hollywood. The piece captures the raw spontaneity of their sets, crafted with vintage gear, cassette tape recordings, and, as always, a DIY ethos. Breidenstein states, “While improvised sessions often failed, when it succeeded, it was definitely a kind of infectious magic the listener would recognize.”

“The Blue and Purple Starship of Trust” is a deeply personal piece, named after when Breidenstein saw a heavenly blue morning glory on a walk around his neighborhood, and emerged from heartbreak and the following deep depression entrenching his life at the time. Recorded in a single take onto cassette tape, blending piano, guitar, and heart-rending vocals into an emotional, dreamlike journey. The track starts with a lush, cascading synth sound, bolstered up by rolling, reverbing downtempo drums. Using Sequential Circuits Pro-One throughout, the rippling synths and off-key piano licks act like pipetted droplets of water, all elements bleeding into each other in some kind of hallucinogenic swelling, reflecting Breidenstein’s fading relationship. The guitar part is a nod to Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine,” and Breidenstein recalls just “bawling as the guitar line was recorded.”

Created in a time of artistic struggle, living in an old school bus, surviving on instant noodles while hauling their gear from venue to venue, and scraping by on gig money, these recordings act as rare artifacts of a movement that thrived on passion and perseverance, standing as a poignant testament to resilience. Though they released a handful of tracks, ranging from deep house to ambient to techno, their true legacy lay in their high-energy, genre-blurring live shows, which are powerfully encapsulated within these recordings and leave a lasting impact on underground electronic music today.

It’s a follow-up long in the making as Ukrainian artist Volodymyr Gnatenko re-enters Kalahari orbit.

Somewhere between submerged video game OST and ritual incantation, Mershiy LP recalls the finest psychoacoustic ambient dub the ‘90s had to offer. Less direct than the previous album, allowing space for IDM introspection and some proper contemplation. A mind-melt but keeping it widescreen and pretty meticulous throughout.

Imagined vistas shot in pristine 4K, impeccably crafted with close listening in mind. Repeated listens reveal more insectoid detail and a knack for detailed sonic immersion.

A 6-track zone-out where diaphanous texture makes way for ominous dread as the narrative unfurls. Balancing urges and inclinations with a fathomless churn of acid, trance, dub and pointelist electronics.

Written and Produced by Volodymyr Gnatenko
Design by Susanne Janssen.
Mastered and cut by Anne Taegert at Dubplates And Mastering.
Distributed by One Eye Witness.
2025

For years, whispers circulated through the jazz scenes of Denmark and Poland - rumours of a lost recording session featuring the legendary Polish trumpeter Tomasz Stanko and a group of Scandinavian and Polish musicians. Now, nearly a decade after the session and seven years after Stanko's passing, these long-awaited recordings are finally seeing the light of day. The project originated at Vallekilde Højskole in Denmark, where Stanko was invited to teach at JazzDanmark's annual Summer Session. A storied program that has hosted luminaries including Bill Frisell and Anat Cohen, the summer school became the birthplace of this unexpected ensemble. Here, alongside a dynamic ensemble of young musicians, Stanko found renewed inspiration, embracing their compositions as much as his own - a rare occurrence for an artist known for leading his own groups. Scandinavian Art Ensemble with Tomasz Stanko is the result: two albums of expansive, deeply expressive music that merge the melancholic depth of Polish jazz with the spacious, atmospheric qualities of the Scandinavian sound. As trumpeter Tomasz Dabrowski recalls, Stanko wasn't just a mentor - he was an equal, driven by curiosity and the desire to push boundaries. "He wanted to play our music. He was always listening, always searching." Across these two albums recorded at The Village Recordings in 2016, listeners will hear Stanko's unmistakable tone interwoven with compositions by both himself and the ensemble members. Pieces like 'The Dark Eyes of Martha Hirsch' and 'Before the Rain' showcase not just his signature lyricism, but also his willingness to step back, listen, and let the younger generation shape the sound. Beyond his unmistakable sound, Stanko's influence was about energy - his presence elevated those around him. Bassist Richard Andersson put it simply: "He brings together the energies, and makes us all play better than usual." This project captures that essence: a legendary artist meeting the next generation on equal footing, creating something entirely unexpected. A decade after the session, the members of the Scandinavian Art Ensemble have forged their own paths, shaping the jazz landscapes of Copenhagen, Malmö, Reykjavik, and beyond. But the impact of their time with Stanko remains profound. "Releasing these albums is about more than just the music," D?browski says. "It's about preserving the spirit of Stanko - his generosity, his curiosity, his way of bringing people together. Even after all these years, his presence can still be felt in every note we played."

When SW. AKA, Stefan Wust, first established SUED in 2011, their compelling, cosmic and anonymous material struck a rare chord, emanating far beyond the freeform Berlin underground in which it was written. Unknowingly, Los Angelean Oliver Bristow had
established a parallel musical universe, founding the hyper-specific label Acid Test, inviting pioneering artists such as Donato Dozzy, Tin Man and Pepe Bradock to indulge in glorious interpretations of 303 control. Without compromise, these were records that quietly
reinvigorated electronic music.
Some years later, a new label, SWOB, unites Wust and Bristow in a very different landscape. And while it would be easy to transform the purity and integrity of this special alchemy into something like nostalgia, yearning for an alternative culture before
influencers and against algorithms, SWOB endeavours to find inspiration in arguably tougher truths.
“By the mid-90s, the techno scene had already reached a breaking point”, recalls Wust.
“Today, the scene is so highly professionalized that it barely resembles what was once called the "underground. But "underground" was never more than the simple reality that music circulated on cassettes among friends or that dubplates were played at illegal
parties... The consequence of today’s professionalization is the death of the original movement.”
Still, no one can kill an idea. Here, inspired by the “Outside Tekno” or “Outkast Techno” that emerged to subvert even back in the day, SWOB are proud to introduce the tekkNOthing trilogy, a new project from SW. beginning on cassette and culminating later
on vinyl. Some years in development, tekkNOthing first began to take shape during the 2020 global pandemic, when ‘the underground’ quickly began to mean something radically different once again.
“I noticed how everything was accelerating while simultaneously spinning in circles – existing in a kind of creative limbo on a global scale”, recalls Wust. “And that’s where true freedom lies: for artists – in any sense – to consciously engage with this necessity. In
other words, irrationality or nonsense can eventually generate meaning.” While hardly capitulating to the contemporary hammering of techno’s most recent developments, tekkNOthing’s first chapter quickly establishes a frenetic pace; tracks like ‘nuclearFALLoutX’ and ‘paslolESmess’ interlock and unfold at a tempo removed from that typically associated with SW. while ‘euroBSS’ and ‘viscousHEAT’ successfully experiment with a more guttural palette, veering far into a rejuvenating and previously uncharted leftfield.
A resolutely human endeavour, the music of SW. is nonetheless written and recorded in the looming shadow of AI, whose free-form adoption of pop culture, hip-hop and techno reminds Wust of “when photography emerged in the 19th century... painting was no
longer bound to naturalism. Similarly, music today is no longer bound to fixed standards – through AI, it can become truly free.”
If not in competition, than taking inspiration from this landscape of new opportunity, tekkNOthing diversifies further with eight unpredictable tracks across part II, taking in stuttering machine-funk on ‘crAMPDUNK’, a freeform organ jam via ‘sonicENdo’ and the
inexplicable piston-percussive, post-punk exotica heard on ‘poorTENOOR#a#01’ DJs with dual cassette decks skills might even find function in the more overtly floor-focused ‘DU ¨NEhowSE#1takeÄ’ or ‘lookLOOK’.
The times may have changed, but the promise remains simple; more music, more freedom.

Limited 2025 Repress
Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of Ichida, the first release from the duo of two important yet often underappreciated musicians, Eiko Ishibashi and Darin Gray. Ishibashi is a singer-songwriter, keyboardist, drummer, and multi-instrumentalist, known in Japan both for her own elaborately conceptual solo albums and for her frequent collaborations with figures such as Jim O'Rourke, Merzbow, and Phew. Darin Gray is a bassist and multi-instrumentalist known for a multitude of collaborations (with O'Rourke and Loren Connors, among many others), for On Fillmore, his cinematic post-exotica project with Glenn Kotche, and as one half of Chikamorachi with Chris Corsano, one of the finest free-jazz rhythm sections around. Presenting the entirely of a live set performed at Tokyo's Super Deluxe in March 2013, the set begins as a duet for Ishibashi's flute and Gray's upright bass. Calmly melodic yet harmonically inventive, with shades of 'spiritual jazz', the pair's acoustic ruminations are gradually joined by Ishibashi's lush electronics, which randomly flicker between chords in a manner recalling the classic work of David Behrman. As the electronics build into a gloomy fog of slowly cycling loops, Gray lays his bass aside and turns to making strangely mournful interjections on a mouthpiece. Eventually Ishibashi moves to the piano, enveloping the audience in rippling pools of sustained, octave-doubled melody, provided by Gray's bass with a fluid and dynamic foundation. For much of the second side, both Ishibashi and Gray turn to electronics, ultimately arriving in a bizarre space of melancholic arpeggios and random sputter and sizzle, oddly reminiscent of 70s outsider prog acts like Wapassou. An uneasy coda of rich piano chords ends the set. Captured in warm room ambience and beautifully mixed by Jim O'Rourke, Ichida is a rare combination of improvisational acumen and emotional directness, both adventurous and immediately accessible.

At the start of the 1980’s X-Plode’s dad had a second-hand colour TV business in Bolton, Lancashire where he would buy, sell, repair and trade TVs. He would come back home with all kinds of things he had traded for a TV but the most memorable, to a 10 year old kid at that time, were the keyboards. He use to watch his dad play songs from the 1960’s on these keyboards and when his dad had gone out, Lee X-Plode would sneak on them and start messing about, experimenting with the drum programs and fiddling with the buttons, trying out ideas. He had to move fast though because these keyboards didn’t stay in the house for long as his dad would trade them again for something else; one time that was an old analogue echo chamber, which Lee also messed about with when his dad was out. That echo chamber was a revelation to Lee and opened up the possibilities of what was possible with sound. So by the time Lee was 16, he decided he wanted his own keyboard and started saving. When his 17th birthday came around he had saved up £200 and visited his local Argos where he bought himself a Yamaha PSS 680, an FM synthesizer with memory banks and a basic drum machine incorporated. ‘It was shit quality like, but I didn’t mind. I just wanted it for the programmable drum machine, the synth and the memory banks that came with it” Lee recalls. The year was 1987 and by this time in Lee’s life he was into reggae and hip hop, the latter he first embraced in 1983 by the way of breakdancing and listening to electro, so all he wanted to do when he got his gear was make reggae and electro sounding beats. Recalling his youth and the fun he had with the echo chamber, the next edition to his home set up was to acquire one of those, which he did via a mate of his. But by the time he got his minimal set up sorted in 1988, his musical tastes had changed. House music had landed here in UK and this was Lee’s new passion, so from that point on wards he started experimenting, trying to nail a decent house groove. ‘I wanted 808 sounds, but I didn’t know what one was!’ Lee explains.

Around late 1990 or early 1991, Lee started to improve upon his set up, purchasing an Atari STE, a Cheetah MS6 , a 6 voice polyphonic/multi-timbre analogue rack mounted synth that linked up to his Yamaha – “It wasn’t a great bit of kit, I kept getting electric shocks from it. Eventually it just blew up!” Lee had acquired a cracked copy of Cubase on floppy disk from his local computer game shop but struggled with it. “It was so complicated to understand and took me ages to get used to it. I was stoned a lot back then and I just couldn’t concentrate on anything for long” Lee laughs, continuing “I also picked up a 4 channel sampler/sequencer which plugged into the side of the Atari and that’s when I first started sampling, I think this would have been late 1991. I had the Simon Harris ‘Breaks, Beats and Scratches’ vinyl that he put out on Music for Life which were a godsend back then. I was also sampling a lot from cassette tapes, especially reggae. I would also record the Stu Allan show on Key 103FM, one of the main stations broadcasting out of Manchester. He would do a 3 hour show with hip hop and house, and then hardcore house came along. Eventually he dropped the hip hop altogether and it was just house and hardcore. I recorded the shows onto cassette most weeks and started to learn more about how house and hardcore was put together by listening to those shows.”

Laurin Rinder & W. Michael Lewis's Seven Deadly Sins is a hugely influential, synth-powered, atmospheric space-disco masterpiece. It's arguably the best American Disco LP ever made. It's certainly one of the most important albums in the history of dance music. And, like its innovative producers, it's absolute genius.

During the mid to late seventies the production team of Laurin Rinder and W. Michael Lewis helped to define the Disco sound that was coming out of Los Angeles with studio projects such as El Coco, Saint Tropez, Le Pamplemousse (with vocals from The Jones Girls), In Search Of Orchestra and many others.

Like all of their work, Seven Deadly Sins comprises beautifully arranged and incredibly well produced deep disco that is revered by aficionados. A seven track, largely instrumental concept album covering each of the sins, it was recorded for AVI in 1977. It's a brilliantly conceived, groove-fuelled album that layers moogy keys and druggy synths over club-ready rhythms. The idea that this record is celebrating rather than condemning the sins is said to be another factor that made the record a big one in the underground clubs.

Opening sin “Lust” is an intense, swelling, seven minute blockbuster synth journey. An ethereal Loft/Garage classic, it's a sprawling, brooding slice of epic dancefloor dynamite that remains a firm favourite of discerning disco heads like Harvey. So ahead of its time, it still sounds ridiculously fresh today, drifting through a multitude of melodies over a smooth, lightly percussive mid-tempo beat. A slow-mo sexy killer.

Up next, the sprightly-manic “Sloth” is nothing like its title. A driving, swaggering instrumental incorporating the same Euro-disco elements as our Daft Parisian friends did a few decades on, it's certainly not for the faint-hearted.

A clear highlight, the cosmic, throbbing proto-techno of “Gluttony” gets things firmly back on track. Pure industrial vibes with dark synth bass punctuated by uplifting melodic sequences that brilliantly utilise guitar and horns, is this the sound of Wax! Trax being born? You won't be able to get enough of this.

Opening up the B-Side, “Pride” is a breezy slice of classic late seventies jazz/funk with deft Hammond and clavinet grooves and expansive horn sections. It's absolutely fantastic. The wicked leftfield vocal cut “Envy” provides more disco pump with squelchy acid synth flourishes, funky guitar and neck-snapping percussive breaks.

The dark proto-techno/house cut “Anger” is a fully on top tour de force of drums. With heavy African percussion throughout and a short Afrobeat section towards the end, it was sampled by Carl Craig and Laurent Garnier for their Tres Demented project and was also a massive Ron Hardy / Music Box favourite. The album is rounded out by the hard-grooving “Covetousness”, another driving jazz-funk workout par excellence with liberal use of the syndrum.

As Laurin Rinder recalled in an interview with Dream Chimney, the duo essentially lived in the studio: “we really had cots, beds and the whole thing, we were just pumpin’ them out. 7 days a week, 3 different projects at the same time. I played drums on everything but had to play a little differently. I had to ask the engineer ‘What’s the name of this group?‘”.

Evidently, their prolific output was the result of a crazy cocaine-fuelled production schedule: “The amount of coke we did, to do all this, you can’t even imagine. $300 a day. I had to have plastic inserts in my nose so I could do more.” Looking at the frankly terrifying cover, you'd have never known!

Be With is beyond delighted to present the first ever legit vinyl reissue of Seven Deadly Sins, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry in Holland. The unforgettable cover artwork has been reproduced here at Be With - dare you stare back at it for too long?

Perc Trax is proud to unleash the second EP of remixes of tracks from Perc's Resident Advisor recommended album 'The Cut Off'. Following on from EP1 this collection of remixes again covers a range of sounds from cutting edge Parisian deep techno to the sound of the UK underground scene.

Opening up the EP is Mac Declos, a breakout star of the Paris techno scene and a key member of Anetha's Mama Told Ya crew. Mac takes 'Full Goblin', one of the more uncompromising tracks on 'The Cut Off' and transforms it into a slice of grinding stripped back techno, recalling the glory days of Daniel Bell's DBX project.

Next up Sweden's Peder Mannerfelt, who has a long association with Perc & Perc Trax, remixes album standout track 'Static' which features his regular collaborator Sissel Wincent. Peder's version of 'Static' recalls classic Detroit electro with the addition of gliding harp runs providing a glistening counterpoint to the jabbing drums and Sissel's deadpan vocal delivery.

On the B-side Perc Trax new boy Million follows up his recent 'Six Ways To Die' EP taking hold of 'UK Style', originally one of the 'The Cut Off's more abstract tracks, energising it into a driving techno / jungle hybrid with just a sprinkling of classic UK rave to raise a smile on the face of the most exhausted raver.

Finally UK underground legend Boy Pete drags 'Imperial Leather' to the nearest free party, dirtying up Perc's epic original delivering a remix that will keep any 4am dance floor bubbling with energy. The relentless energy that Pete's productions are known for is all over this remix as it continuously powers forward.

The record captures an expansive performance in Poitiers, France in November 2023. First working together in an unpredictable trio with minimalist legend and eccentric extraordinaire Charlemagne Palestine, Ambarchi and Thielemans quickly established a remarkable musical chemistry that led to an ongoing series of duo concerts, including the performance documented on their LP Double Consciousness (Matière Mémorie, 2023).

Kind Regards finds the duo refining their shared language while continuing to take risks, allowing the music’s gravitational pull to lead them from meditative calm to unexpectedly expressive passages of melodic invention and rhythmic drive.

Recorded in sparkling fidelity and carefully mixed by Ambarchi’s longtime collaborator Joe Talia, the LP contains a single unbroken performance, stretching out for over 45 minutes. Guitar and drums weave together into a symbiotic whole that nevertheless affords us ample opportunity to marvel at the highly personal approaches these two musicians have developed to their chosen instruments through decades of diverse collaboration and prolific performance. The set begins with Thielemans’ hypnotic tom patterns, around which Ambarchi’s wavering, shimmering guitar tones—achieved with the help of the rotating speaker of a Leslie cabinet—flurry and swirl. Thielemans’ drums play subtle tricks with time and perception, adding and dropping beats within repeated patterns to create an effect at once rhythmically insistent and liquified. Growing at first into a rapidly pulsing texture of brushed drums and flickering harmonics, the music builds momentum into an irregular groove over which Ambarchi’s guitar is transformed into haunting, monumental electric organ chords, strikingly recalling the Wurlitzer work of Alice Coltrane, before settling into a section of gentle portamento melody embedded into the tactile clicks and clangs of Thielemans’ percussion.

When Thielemans adopts a more traditional jazz approach to the kit in some of the set’s second half, the results are stunning, demonstrating a feel for shifting accents and sensibility to the touch of the stick on the drum or cymbal that recalls greats like Jack DeJohnette or Billy Hart (one of Thielemans’ mentors). And when Ambarchi turns up the heat, he does so in an unexpected and delightful way, letting loose a swarm of jittering delayed tones straight out of Henry Kaiser’s classic It’s a Wonderful Life, with a more active use of the guitar’s fretboard than his usual approach to the instrument allows. As the performance draws to a close after a climactic episode of distorted harmonic groans and crashing cymbals that manages to be at once thunderous and carefully attuned to detail, it is clearer than ever that, for these two serial collaborators, this is a very special pairing.

Kind Regards shows us the kind of magic that can happen when two masters who have dedicated decades to reimagining their instruments simply begin to play, following the music wherever it goes.

A Strangely Isolated Place presents a long-lost collaboration between Polish artists Olga Wojciechowska and Tomasz Walkiewicz as Monoparts—a partnership formed many years ago that resulted in an album once destined to remain unreleased.

Olga Wojciechowska, known for her modern-classical masterpieces such as Infinite Distances (2019) and Unseen Traces (2020), as well as her 2022 collaboration with Scanner, breaks all known expectations with Soothsayers. In a dramatic departure, Olga unveils a new and unexpected side, debuting her haunting vocals—a delicate, spellbinding performance that recalls the golden era of trip-hop, and comparisons to the sounds pioneered by Tricky, Massive Attack, and Martina Topley-Bird.

With Tomasz adding layers of depth through intricate beats and electronics, Olga’s voice becomes the emotional core of the record, conjuring an intimate and nostalgic atmosphere.

"This album is like becoming one with the earth itself—feeling the rawness of the wood, tasting the earth in your mouth, and sensing the presence of ancient spirits. The music carries a deep, primal energy, like being part of the forest, with creatures watching you from the shadows." - Olga Wojciechowska

To complete the journey, ASC lends his signature touch with a stunning drum’n’bass reinterpretation, amplifying the album’s nostalgic essence. Soothsayers emerges as a spellbinding ode to times gone by, in more ways than one.

Featuring artwork by Moon Patrol, with mastering and lacquer by Andreas LUPO Lubich.

‘Belgium is too small for pianist Alex Koo’ – De Tijd

‘Stunningly original’ – Downbeat Jazz Magazine

‘Fabulous technique, sounding downright genius at times.’ – London Jazz News

‘When listening, Keith Jarrett’s name came to mind several times. Not because Koo’s playing is similar to that of the American master, but because it is of the same exceptionally high level.’ – Trouw

‘Koo’s compositions and playing are absolutely world class.’ – Written in Music

The son of a Belgian missionary sent to Japan in the seventies and a Japanese peace activist, pianist and composer Alex Koo refuses to be boxed into any traditional category. As the renowned German Jazzthetik magazine put it, "Alex Koo defies categorization."

With ten uniquely personal tracks, Blame It on My Chromosomes is more than a musical statement; it is a form of self-therapy. "The only way not to spiral into depression as a jazz musician nowadays is to vent and lose yourself in the music," Koo shares. "Music needs a purpose beyond self-promotion. For me, it's about accepting who I am and letting go of anything else."

Featuring celebrated trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire on two tracks, Blame It on My Chromosomes highlights Koo's fearless versatility. One of these tracks, "Jonass," is dedicated to Koo's childhood friend who tragically passed away, adding a deeply personal layer to the album. "When we were kids, we would skate and do stupid things with shopping carts, inspired by Jackass," Koo recalls. "That's why we called Jonas 'Jonass'-he had the biggest smile you could imagine, his laugh was contagious, yet he also was the most reckless one among us."

Koo, praised as "stunningly original" (Downbeat Jazz Magazine), is known for creating music that transcends genre boundaries, blending jazz, indie, contemporary classical and film music with innovative freedom. A native of rural West-Flanders, Belgium, he began his musical journey as a classical piano prodigy at the age of five. In his teens, he developed a passion for jazz and improvisation, earning praise from jazz legends such as Kurt Elling, Kenny Werner, and Brad Mehldau. Koo has even been described as "of the same rare high level as Keith Jarrett" (Trouw). His 2019 album, Appleblueseagreen, featuring Mark Turner and Ralph Alessi, was included in Downbeat's Best Albums of the Year.

Alongside Koo, Blame It on My Chromosomes features his longstanding trio, whose fearless interplay brings the album's narrative to life. The trio, with Koo on piano, Dré Pallemaerts on drums, and Lennart Heyndels on bass, represents the very best of the Belgian jazz scene. Their intuitive chemistry and artistry are the driving force behind the album's emotive power, with special guest Ambrose Akinmusire adding a transcendent layer on two standout tracks.

Collected by Charles Aznavour is a wonderful collection of hits and classics by the French chansonnier, that touches your soul at every moment. It’s an overview of his work during the sixties, seventies and duets with Johnny Hallyday on “Il Faut Savoir” and with Frank Sinatra “Young At Heart”. Also his English versions of “How Sad Venice Can Be”, “The Old Fashioned Way”, “She” and four more English songs are included on this deluxe Trifold 3LP album.

In the early 1950s a man of short stature attempts to win over his audience. With a hoarse voice he delivers songs that do not catch on. People jeer at him. Tomatoes fly through the air. The Frenchman with Armenian roots slinks off the stage, but does not quit. Ironically, the song that makes him a household name is the song in which he recalls his agonising trial. The audience reacted indifferently when Charles Aznavour decided to try out his new song on stage. But when he went on to greet the audience for one final time they all stood and gave him a thundering standing ovation.

In the sixties, hits and classics succeed one another. Nobody is bothered any more by his husky voice, by his small stature or his rugged characterful face. The croony “For Me Formidable” (1963), the heart breaking “Et Pourtant” (1963) and the nostalgic “Hier Encore” (1964) confirm his standing as a fan favourite. “La Bohème” (1965) and “Emmenez-moi” (1967) turn Aznavour into a superstar. In “La Bohème”, there are impressionist painters strolling in the shadows of the Sacré-Coeur, the compelling “Comme Ils Dissent” (1972) is the first chanson after Vichy France to overtly endorse homo sexuality and in the present “France Of La Manif Pour Tous” (the movement that opposes gay marriage), does it again to sound particularly topical. “Camarade” (1977) was about the nomenklatura, the ruling elite in the Soviet Union and is a social and historical topic. “Avec Un Brin De Nostalgie” is an Aznavour grand cru, maybe even the best he has made over the last thirty years.

Charles Aznavour Collected is available as a limited pressing of 1000 individually numbered copies on gold vinyl. The package includes a 4-page booklet with liner notes and photos.

Matthew Dear's Black City Can't Be Found On Any Map. It's A Composite, An Imaginary Metropolis Peopled By Desperate Cases, Lovelorn Souls, And Amoral Motives. Like Most Literary Gothams, Black City Is A Place To Love And Hate, As Seedy As A Nightclub's Back Room And As Seductive As The Promise Of Power. Matthew Dear, The Musician, May Live In New York City, But The Matthew Dear Of Black City Inhabits A Sound-world Unlike Any Other: A Monument To The Shadowy Side Of Urban Life That Bumps And Creaks, Shudders And Wakes Up Screaming In The Middle Of The Night. Black City Is Matthew Dear's Third Album On Ghostly International, And It's His Darkest And Most Engrossing Work To Date.

From The rst Notes Of Album Opener "honey", It's Clear That The Love-obsessed Matthew Dear Of 2007's Asa Breed Has Given Way To A More Existentially Paranoid Entity, As Creeping Tempos Dominate, Cavernous Atmospherics Envelop The Listener, And Strange Distortions Crackle On The Horizon. In Black City, Nothing Is At It Seems: Leadoff Single "little People (black City)" Is A Nine-and-a-half Minute Disco odyssey, subverting its gleaming electronic lead with eerily giddy backing vocals and cryptic, ominous lyrics ("a frozen wasted heart / has died", "love me like a clown"); "You Put a Smell on Me" is a sordid sex romp set to hysterically chattering percussion and a serrated synth line that will set your teeth on edge; "More Surgery" at rst recalls the barely-there Krautrock of Harmonia in its burbling minimalism, until Dear's chanted chorus of "Alter genetics / to make my body glow / I need more surgery / there's so much more to know" sends the track hurtling into a dystopian future.

And yet, for all the foreboding moods on Black City, it's the album's sweeter moments that illustrate Matthew Dear's growing maturity as a songwriter. "Slowdance" is a futuristic lullaby in which Dear articulates a lover's helplessness ("I can't be the one to tell you everything's wrong") over breathy, Arthur Russell-esque cello swishes; the album-closing "Gem" is an achingly simple, reverb-drenched piano ballad that ends with a long, slow fade. Even in Matthew Dear's Black City, there is hope.

We’re teaming up with ELUCID and Fat Possum for a limited edition of 300 copies of a Rush Hour black ice coloured edition.

E L U C I D, one half of the illustrious duo Armand Hammer, is here with the full-length follow-up to 'I Told Bessie'. Further experiments in the sonic, expanding on the 'live' side of music paired with the embracing of chaos. Something you haven't heard, or not so for a very long time. E L U C I D is here to reveal the bleakness of reality.



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''There is never time in the future in which we will work out our salvation. The challenge is in the moment; the time is always now.''
James Baldwin

A raw, crackling urgency runs through rapper-producer ELUCID’s new album REVELATOR like an underground power line. There is no space here for sepia-toned reminiscences or indulgent self-mythologizing. Intellectual rabbit holes have been filled in with concrete and rebar ; there is nowhere to hide and no off ramp from the audio Autobahn that ELUCID has fashioned—a renegade Robert Moses with gold fronts, bulldozing the homes of the powerful and the complicit. REVELATOR brims with the energy of now, with a refusal to look away. Carpe diem in a murder one mask.

Born in Jamaica, Queens, ELUCID has been on the cutting edge of New York’s underground scene since the mid-2000s. From the beginning, he has defied both convention and expectation. He ran with Okayplayer darlings Tanya Morgan, but his own music eschewed their throwback charm for glitchy noise experiments and bass-swamped culture jamming. His 2016 debut studio project Save Yourself (re-released in a deluxe edition last year) announced him in earnest. But in recent years, his Armand Hammer releases with partner-in-crime billy woods have received significant attention and acclaim. Serving as a followup to his last solo album—2022’s comparatively balmy I Told Bessie—ELUCID hoped to “re-distinguish” himself with REVELATOR, setting himself apart amidst the increasing attention around the music he and his friends are making together.

For ELUCID, this meant setting bold new challenges for himself. One of these was diving further into live instrumentation than ever before—”getting my Quincy Jones on,” as he puts it. The testing ground for this approach was Armand Hammer’s most recent project, 2023’s We Buy Diabetic Test Strips’ Möbius strip soundscapes, warmed with instrumental flourishes and skin-shedding beat progressions. With REVELATOR, though, ELUCID strove to create an atmosphere of chaos, embracing experimental electronics and atonal sample bursts. He worked on much of the album with co-producer Jon Nellen, who comes from a background in avant-garde and Indian classical music. “I wanted to get as freaky as I could at this moment. I wanted people to hear things, maybe for the first time, or in a way they haven’t for a long while,” the rapper explains.

ELUCID arrived at the studio with a collection of noise sources: non-referential samples, glitches and noises. Together he, Nellen, and others created forms out of them and, as ELUCID recalls, “just started playing drums with it.” Their fried, distorted sound was directly inspired by Miles Davis at his most uncompromising—specifically, the tone-clustering funk track “Rated X” from his 1974 double LP Get Up With It. At times, the pairing of rap with avant-fusion sounds also brings Emergency! from The Tony Williams Lifetime to mind, perhaps in an alternate timeline where the late drummer was listening to Ice Cube’s AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted.

“The World is Dog,” REVELATOR’s lead single, functions as the album’s aesthetic thesis statement. Like the Davis track, the textures are punishing, the tonality is in free-fall, and the driving breakbeat of a groove cuts in and out unceremoniously. Avant-jazz bassist Luke Stewart, who appears throughout the record, holds the whole thing together just long enough for ELUCID to tightwalk over the beat. This tension is exactly where REVELATOR sets itself apart; in a time of drumless loops, and safe soul samples, this is a high-wire act with no safety net. Similarly, the song announces the themes of the album within just a few phrases, evoking the way societies accept and adjust to new levels of debasement and brutality while suffocating under the weight of history: “Can’t clock the kill, all a mystery/Forced past will eating everyone eventually/The world is dog.”

Many of the songs on REVELATOR grapple obliquely with dissolution and disenfranchisement in America and across the world—the grim realities of our domestic sociopolitical climate and our involvement in foreign conflicts. “Much of my artistic and political sensibility comes from the Black arts movement here in New York,” ELUCID explains. “Recognizing the interconnected global struggles against oppression, artists and thinkers created works and actions in solidarity with freedom movements in South Africa and Palestine.” ELUCID cites intellectuals like Amiri Baraka, Kwame Nkrumah, Audre Lorde, Sonia Sanchez, and Nikki Giovanni among his heroes. (One track on the album is specifically inspired by Lorde’s work, “SKP,” citing the scholar’s paper “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic As Power.”) Songs like REVELATOR’s insistent closer “ZIGZAGZIG,” find ELUCID applying up-to-the-minute messaging, making explicit reference to the conflict in Gaza: “Feed a war machine…from river to sea, in lieu of peace.”

Despite ELUCID’s preference for cacophonous system overload here, the rapper also provides moments of respite. Recorded at The Alchemist’s Los Angeles studio, the laid-back, wheezing “INSTANT TRANSFER” is a collaboration with billy woods, which crystallizes their shared sense of creative determination. “With much momentum behind us and even more on the horizon, I knew a purpose, and that every step was ordered to that purpose,” ELUCID said of the experience. Meanwhile, the jittery “HUSHPUPPIES” is a playful anomaly on the track list, providing a snapshot of ELUCID watching his grandparents in the kitchen while preparing for Friday night fish fry dinners.

“Love still rules over on this side,” ELUCID says. ”I’m raising a family. We are making meaning and finding joy in the midst of all the fucked up-ness of everything around us because the alternative is cowardice and slow death. We remain rooted. We celebrate our people and our wins. Struggle is necessary.”

“IKEBANA” is one of ELUCID’s strongest statements of purpose on the record, blending the record’s heaviest themes with its most hopeful sentiments. supported by a shoutalong refrain and an urgent prog-funk groove. Breaking away from images of dissolution and crumbling societal systems that populate REVELATOR, ELUCID notes that the only way to navigate life’s bleakest landscapes is to cling to love and believe in those around you—to look forward toward something better that may or may not be possible. For the rapper, one of the album’s most trenchant lines comes during a centerpiece of a beat drop: “Being alive/I must look up.”

“The lyric ‘being alive I must look up’ is important especially in the context of this album. Much of the album imagery is harsh and reflects the actual doom some of us experience. But still I/we exist,” ELUCID explains.

Every artist is, in one way or another, the product of their time, bound by life’s leaden gravity to operate within the space of that which is already known. But there are some who are able to shake free of these ties, to shape the culture as it unfolds, to make the present their own.
Revelation, as a concept, points to the scales falling from people’s eyes—something that has been hiding in plain sight becoming clear. “The revelator relates to things that have been talked about, things that have been forecasted,” ELUCID adds. “And now they’re really here, and everyone sees it. And there’s no escaping.” REVELATOR plays out with the unmitigated power of those storms, laying waste to any genre conventions in pursuit of a certain physicality. Here, ELUCID develops a wholly distinctive musical language to explore our fractured modernity.

REVELATOR's packaging was designed by longtime Armand Hammer / Backwoodz art director, Alexander Richter.

Ten years after his first full-length effort ‘Man Is Deaf’ landed him firmly in the runnings for DJ Mag’s album of the year, prodigal son Michael Anthony Wright AKA Brassica returns to Civil Music with a deeply accomplished, painstakingly whittled LP of hydraulic electro slickness, rich synthscapes, and hooky, peak-time tearjerkers for the most discerning front-left lifers. ‘Tribeless Gathering’ is a barnstorming testament to Brassica’s stylistic and timbral deftness, touching down in the elusive epicentre of the club/home listening venn diagram with ease.

From the elastic, neon acid pointillism of opener ‘Hop Kweng’ to the mardy, miasmic plod of closing chugger ‘Changa Hill’, Brassica seamlessly segues between avenues of influence, his notoriously omnivorous musical knowledge roadmapping each turn. Raised on a diet of everything from early rave standards to metal, and schooled in avant garde sonics as a student of sound design at LCC, Brassica does a peerless job of sublimating his countless influences into a record of refined, heterogeneous, and most crucially, catchy, club moods.

Less spartan than his more recent oeuvre on Feel My Bicep, and less baroque than his technicolour experiments in postmodern synth pop with vocalist Stuart Warwick, Tribeless Gathering represents Brassica’s triumphant return to the main room, replete with rushy hooks primed for the planet’s finest soundsystems, and passages of heads-down tension bound to draw listeners right to the edge of their seats. Overall it is a concise and refined testament to Wright’s command of spectral sonics and effortless ability to pressurise a dancefloor. It is no surprise that he has also worked as a prolific mastering engineer, tuning music from a plethora of dance disciplines for maximum club impact. This work extends to his own projects (including this one), cementing them as rare expressions of complete artistry from studio to turntable.

As we delve deeper into the record, we are ushered through a series of accomplished and varied club moods, each channelling a unique cocktail of influences, but retaining a warm, ebullient analogue sensibility unique to Brassica’s work. This playful scope of influence calls to mind James T Cotton or Machinedrum’s experiments in dance music form, but Wright manages it all under one roof, wrangling everything from sashaying wub-laden two step to snarling Dillinja-esque FM damage into something inherently his.

Choice cut ‘Change Yourself’ layers an almost Cerrone-like piano refrain over radiant surges of saturated bass, dubby, strobing chords and a jagged, driving break, building to a jaw-clenching apex of dancefloor elation, while the rude, playful half-step of ‘Elevation’ breaks down the vintage speed garage formula into linear fragments, utilising a tight palette of resonant bass slugs, infectious synth leads and Papua New Guinea-style vocal strobes. The aptly named ‘Hold Tight’ fuses heart-in-mouth UK ‘ardkore pads with glissando acid disturbance and surgical snare fills in a formula which recalls the ethereal grit of Nubian Mindz’ 00s experiments in big-smoke break science, while the questing melodic arcs and arpeggiated squarewaves of ‘Pinball Marinara’ could easily have soundtracked an 80s sci-fi epic, beset with sparkling, bare-bones drum programming and hazy beds of sub sediment.

With ‘Tribeless Gathering’, Brassica both irreverently fuses and pays homage to the many unique and weird permutations of UK dance music. The short lived gathering of junglists, ravers and house hotsteppas of a similar name may have long since dissipated, along with the tribes themselves, but across these 11 tracks, he lays a blueprint for a new sound of togetherness.

Glasgow based Seated Records return with more 1980s Scottish Post-Punk / New Wave material. In this 8-track mini compilation the label introduces the work of Stirling band 22 Beaches, offering a deep dive into music recorded between 1980-1984 - the majority of which has never seen the light of day!

22 Beaches formed in Stirling in the late 1970s as an evolution of the short lived group ‘Alone at Last’ - drummer Fred Parson’s and guitarist Stephen Hunter being the two who spanned the divide. Out of the six members of 22 Beaches, many were school friends, and the rest naturally fell together. The band toured extensively and played at a truly diverse set of venues across the UK: from a local swimming pool boiler room, to small nightclubs and university parties, to several fundraisers for the miners strike. Maybe most notably of all, drummer Fred Parsons described playing at what he calls “the Grangemouth International”, organised by local promoter Brian Guthrie and which featured an all-star lineup of 22 Beaches, The Exploited and the first incarnation of The Cocteau Twins. A coach was hired to ship the audience to Grangemouth from Stirling, the cost of which was included in the ticket. The gig then paused halfway through for a 'help yourself' buffet. Young promoters take heed. This is how it's done!

Over the course of the 80s the band released music on three different, and now sought after, various artists compilation cassettes. “What Day Is It?” and “Sadie When She Died” were released on a compilation of local Stirling artists 'The A.N.K.L.E File'. The track from which the current record takes its namesake - “Dust” - was initially released on a compilation-tape for the fanzine 'Another Spark'. And ‘‘Zoo” (also featured on this record) was first released on Glasgow label Pleasantly Surprised via compilation, 'An Hour Of Eloquent Sounds', where 22 Beaches rubbed shoulders with early music from Scottish names Primal Scream, Cocteau Twins, The Wake and Sunset Gun. Unfortunately, 22 Beaches never met the same level of commercial success as these others and decided to retire the project in 1984 - leaving their recordings and demos to gather dust (hehe)…until now!

This compilation, “Dust: recordings 1980-1984” follows the band's journey and the changes in their sound over the years. It moves from the raw, punk energy of early DIY recordings through to the A Certain Ratio style Balearica of their later pieces. The record's opener and title track “Dust” is perhaps the most shining example of the latter. Characterised by the plenitude of sonic space in the mix, “Dust” has an almost dub sensibility that is communicated through centrality of Parsons’ drums, McChord’s percussion, and Fildes’ Bass while the harmonising vocals of Sharkey and McGregor chant over the top to give the track its distinctive psychedelic edge. This is an atmosphere only exacerbated by the lofi quality of the recording which sits the vocals in the same aural realm as much 1960s psych-folk. On “Cartoon Boy”, the band strips things down further. A droning bass line persists through the tape fuzz and is accompanied by the sounds of a sole looping guitar chord sequence and McGregor and Sharkey’s vocals - respectively and carefully dancing around one another before harmonising in the most beautiful way. The result is a haunting and abstract Marine Girls style heartbreaker. ‘That Girl’ again delivers a dub adjacent rhythm section similar to that of “Dust”. However, on this instance crisp guitar chords, a distant, phased organ and blue-eyed soul vocal delivery, produce a track that could easily have been a lost Orange Juice recording from their sessions with Dennis Bovel. On “Somebody Got It Wrong” and “One Of Us” the band employ a more macro approach where a jangling guitar with an almost highlife-influenced tone, vocal ad-libs and syncopated percussion give the music a Talking Heads-esque swagger.

Taken together these tracks illustrate a clear trajectory in the band's sound, moving from from the high energy no-wave quality of early recordings towards a more dub influenced, and stripped-back sound - a sonic trajectory followed by so many bands of the time, not least those emerging from the diaspora of Manchester’s Factory Records.

On “Breathing’’ we hear the beginning of this transition, with the strong influence of the oddball NYC disco styles of Was (Not Was) and ZE records. All of this is meshed together with the residual punk rock energy of 1980s UK. This combination is employed to excellent effect with the addition of the distinctly Scottish (and what the band confirmed to me to be spontaneous) vocal delivery of: “Do you love me? Do you want me?” “Aye!” “Do you love me? Do you need me?” “Naw!”.

On the record’s closing tracks, “Zoo” and “Talent Show”, we hear early examples of the band’s work, playing with their rawest all-in-one-take live energy where Hunter’s spiralling guitar riffs and McGregor's distorted vocal exclamations lead the charge. The band recalls that these initial-forays did not always translate so well into multitrack recording and overdubbing: “the deconstruction took away some of the band's natural feel”. On “Talent Show” the record ends with Sharkey delivering an almost unintelligible spoken word section over the top of the track, making for one final, disorientating, almost manic slice of post-punk.

These tracks from 1980-1984 chart the progress of a unique contribution to the world of Scottish Post-Punk and New Wave, encapsulating not only the musical trajectory of 22 Beaches but also echoing the broader sonic landscape of 1980s UK, a testament to the adaptability and creativity of the UK’s underground music of the time.

Sleep Now Forever is the second and final album released by Sorrow, the post-Strawberry Switchblade group fronted by singer Rose McDowall. Originally released in 1999 and long since deleted it is a cornucopia of pastoral, elegiac folk music, swirling atmospherics, hymnal compositions and above it all the alternating towering and fragile vocal performances of McDowall. Recorded in the late 90s with fellow band member and co-songwriter Robert Lee, Sleep Now Forever is the definitive statement by the now defunct group and Rose McDowall’s most complete long-form work to date.
Released through the group’s own Piski Disk Records, Sleep Now Forever was distributed by World Serpent which struggled through the early 2000s with financial woes, eventually folding due to bankruptcy in 2004. Due to the company’s troubles, Sleep Now Forever was never distributed widely and was a victim of the company’s failure. Released on CD only, original copies are now rare and only traded on second hand channels. Remastered by Mikey Young for a limited vinyl release, Sleep Now Forever will be released on April 20th on double vinyl format, with one side an exclusive etching by Glasgow artist Holly Allan.
Despite its rarity, Sleep Now Forever enjoys a firm cult following. The album’s textures are expansive, lush, deliciously detailed and celestial. Recorded in home study Velvet Hole by Rose McDowall and then-husband Robert Lee, the album enlists an array of players from the underground Neo-folk / industrial scene: Nigel McKernaghan (Uilleann pipes, Whistles), Susan Franknel (Bassoon), John Contreras (Cello) and Lawrence Frankel (Oboe, Cor Anglais). The eleven songs here revolve around McDowall’s instantly recognisable voice. Brought up singing in the Catholic Church, McDowall’s vocals are impeccable and angelic, particularly on tracks like Turn Off The Light where her experiences with religion are canted over soaring oboe and guitar backing. By far the most evolved and realised version of Sorrow’s vision, it feels somewhat criminal that music this beautiful could be lost to time until now.
McDowall’s lyrics throughout Sleep Now Forever deal frankly with mental health, depression, altered states, death and redemption. Wave upon wave of harmony drench each song, McDowal’s vocal multi-tracked and imperious. Opener Soldier benefits from Robert Lee’s use of the studio as instrument, summoning forth a lilting group performance of sparkling guitar and percussion that recalls the Velvet Underground. Mikey Love’s master treats the compositions to brand new frequency dynamics and space. Harmonium and string drones form the counter to McDowall’s vocal on Love Dies, a slow, lurching lament that feels transcendent. On Haunting, the arrangement is orchestral and aching, bleeding into Fear Becomes You, with chord and harmony structure that recalls the baroque sixties pop of West Coast Pop Experimental Art Band or the 60s psychedelic folk movement. A towering, beautiful statement, this elegy for times lost and moonlit-illumination is finally resurfacing from the darkness.

It’s True What They Say is the debut EP from Edinburgh-based, husband-and-wife duo Sarah/Shaun (pronounced simply Sarah Shaun), aka Sarah and Shaun McLachlan (pronounced “McLochlin”).

“Sarah and I both have a love for nostalgia,” explains Shaun. “We watched that amazing old 80’s Sci-Fi, (John) Carpenter movie, Starman, a few months back. Myself and my brother David used to watch it all the time. We must have been, roughly, 5-7 at the time. I remember loving the movie but the end, you know, with the beautiful, atmospheric, synth ending, I love that particular moment the most - best part of the movie, you know, when he goes home… It’s heartbreaking but stunning, all the same. It’s the music that moves you most… It did when I was 5 and it still does to this day. It must have had some form of a (much deeper) impact on me.”

The duo narrates stories across themes of love, hope, family, friends, dreams and sadness - the good that comes with the bad in everyday life, not just on a personal scale but within a community as well.

“Starbed is the first song I have ever written and just came out of the blue really, with Shaun playing a melody and me singing along,” says Sarah. “It’s simple and just about two people in love. Love songs are always the best songs, after all… Music has been a big part of my life from a young age. I was unwillingly dragged to piano and violin lessons, which I’m thankful for now! I’d say the first band I really became obsessed with growing up were the Beatles, and on the back of that a lot of 60s music and fashion. From then on, I had a love for music.”

“Shaun definitely opened my ears to a lot of sounds and got me thinking about soundtracks and all the noises that can be made,” she goes on. “We love just spending time experimenting in the house with instruments, pedals etc and Ali is a real magician to work with, too…”

The recordings took place over the summers of 2022 and 2023, with fellow Delta Mainline member Ali Chisholm (aka Jaguar Eyes) plus long-term friend and collaborator Gavin King. Further collaboration then came via the ‘net from the (international) likes of Chris Dixie Darley (Father John Misty), Darren Coghill (Neon Waltz) and Daniel Land (The Modern Painters), among others (see a full list of credits below).

Both Sarah and Shaun have a love for uber-soundtrack producers such as Hanz Zimmer, Max Richter, Cliff Martinez plus live acts such as Beach House, Spiritualized, M83, Suicide, Moby and OMD (to name a few). Shaun also credits the work of Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein (from Survive) on the Stranger Things score… “Even a moment in a movie, whether it be just 30 seconds during a particular scene, it grips you,” he says. But there’s something much deeper at play as well. “Music is a healer,” he goes on, “and I write from my own perspective but more so for others. Once I've done my bit, it doesn't belong to me any longer. It belongs to whoever wants it or needs it.”

The result is a cinematic, synth-wavey, dream poppy and downright beguilingly beautiful body of work. And they’re just getting started…

REVIEWS/RADIO/FEEDBACK:

“Starbed is folky, flavoured by pedal steel, cello, and brass. Dust Tears, in stark contrast, is a mini synth-pop rave epic. Part Bicep. Part Human League. Keep Your Eyes Closed summons a mood that’s romantic, but also dark and potentially doomed – like David Lynch’s Twin Peaks meets Cliff Martinez’s Drive score. My pick though is It’s True What They Say, whose interwoven jangle and picking recalls New Order’s more introspective moments (Love Vigilantes, Love Less… ). Drums crashing, cathartic. Guitar raising dramatic arcs. Its chorus a rush, like a reprise of Pains Of Being Pure Of Heart’s ‘Higher Than The Stars’.” BAN BAN TON TON
"Dust Tears sees them sharing vocal duties over a synth foundation reminiscent of Moby’s Go - Artist Of The Week” THE SCOTSMAN
"Woozy pop" NEMONE (Mary Anne Hobbs Morning Show, BBC 6Music)
"Nice one, very David Lynch meets Euro dream pop" YOUTH (Killing Joke, Paul McCartney, U2, The Orb, Spiritualized etc)
"Music sounds killer! Real emotion” DAVID HOLMES
"I’m enjoying it” TIM BRINKHURST aka LONDON (IKLAN, Young Fathers, Callum Easter)
“Oh, this is lovely!” SEAN JOHNSTON (A Love From Outer Space)
"It’s totally my cup of tea with milk and biscuit" BRENT RADEMAKER (Beachwood Sparks/GospelBeach)
"Beautiful, ecstatic electronica! Short and to the point" KEVIN BALES (Spiritualized, Julian Cope, Soulsavers, BE)
"Makes me wanna sit in the sun and sip an Arnold Palmer" CHRIS DIXIE DARLEY (Father John Misty)
“Really beautiful - Cocteau Twins / Spiritualized vibes but has its own thing going on, too - worth checking out!” JULIAN CORRIE (Franz Ferdinand, Miaoux Miaoux)
‘Sounded nice on a sunny day, makes me think of Twin Peaks, nice moods’ EAMON HAMILTON (Sea Power)
"Dealing in nostalgia, no bad thing at all, great to play that (Dust Tears) for you” RODDY HART (BBC Radio Scotland)
“I'll give the vocal tracks a spin before the release." VIC GALLOWAY (BBC Radio Scotland)
"Rather good!" IAIN ANDERSON (BBC Radio Scotland)

CREDITS:

Lyrics, Guitars, Keys, Synths, Drums, Drum Programming, Percussion, Mandolin, Glockenspiel: Shaun McLachlan
Lyrics, Vocals, Keys by Sarah McLachlan
Guitars, Synths, String Arrangements, Drum Programming, Engineering: Jaguar Eyes Percussion/Drums/Effects, Fire Extinguisher: Darren Coghill (Neon Waltz)
Guitars by Daniel Land
Slide Guitar by Chris Dixie Darley (Father John Misty)
Brass by Bruce Michie
Keys, pre-production & engineering on “It’s true what they say”: Gavin King
All produced by Jaguar Eyes and Shaun McLachlan and then mixed at Glasgow’s Chem19 Studios by David McCaulay (From Scotland With Love, Rick Redbeard, BBC TV’s Attenborough and The Mammoth Graveyard score).
Artwork: Jamie Walman (Fourteen Admirals)

MORE INFO:

Although Shaun released a pair of solo singles (When We Dance and Give Your Love To Me) during Lockdown, he will be better known to many via his work as the multi-instrumentalist in Edinburgh band Delta Mainline. With two albums released to date, Oh! Enlightened and Bel Avenir, both rapturously received by fans and critics alike, Delta Mainline have developed an international, cult following. Oh Enlightened (2013) achieved widespread critical acclaim on release, earning the band comparisons to Arcade Fire and Echo & The Bunnymen, while 2019’s Bel Avenir pulled in references to The Flaming Lips, Pink Floyd, David Bowie and krautrock. A third DM album is currently being mixed and due for release later this year…

We’re hugely excited to announce the brand new album from Dee C. Lee - ‘Just Something’, out 22 March on Acid Jazz. It follows the incredible response to the new single ‘Walk Away’ and last year’s double-sider ‘Don’t Forget About Love’ / ‘Be There In The Morning’, marking the return of one of the UK’s most revered soul singers. Dee is known for her work with The Style Council, Wham!, Slam Slam and Animal Nightlife, and an illustrious solo career (including the Top 3 hit ‘See The Day’). ‘Just Something’ is her first new record since 1998, and her debut for Acid Jazz. Available on LP and CD, all pre-orders from the Acid Jazz Store will be signed by Dee.

‘Just Something’ features 11 songs: nine originals co-written by Dee, a song penned by her daughter Leah Weller, a successful singer/songwriter in her own right, and two inspired covers. Produced by Sir Tristan Longworth, the album is a soulful collection that frames her instantly recognisable vocals in luxurious horns, percussion and keys, and heritage soul with a disco backdrop. While making the record has been a collaborative process, ‘Just Something’ is nevertheless the sound of a singer in charge of her own style and direction. Her vocal delivery and phrasing steal the show throughout, bright and lilting one moment, passionate and ringing the next. She cites Chaka Khan and Jean Carn as major influences, but Lee’s voice is resolutely her own, the product of a life lived.

Inspired by classic Motown, current single ‘Walk Away’ was written by Dee with one of her ‘brothers from another mother’, former fellow Style Council member Mick Talbot, and features Talbot’s distinctive piano and Wulitzer playing on the track. Talbot also plays on another of the album’s many standouts, the Leah Weller-penned ‘Everyday Summer’.

Three of the album’s songs, opener ‘Back In Time’, first single ‘Don’t Forget About Love’ and ‘How To Love’ were co-written with Michael McEvoy and Ernest McKone, whom Dee wrote with back in the 1980s. All three songs channel her musical past, from the thrill and excitement of those early Wham! days, going out and partying, to The Style Council’s trademark jazzy soul, and expressive balladry and killer choruses, which places Lee in the lineage of classic soul singers.

Elsewhere, on ‘Anything’, co-written with Paul Barry, Dee sings her heart out on a song full of optimism and hope for the future, while ‘For Once In My Life’, the oldest song here dates back to 1998, is effortlessly commercial and has hit written all over it, with Lee empowered and regal sounding over a warm blanket of bassy funk.

The album’s two covers, meanwhile, were both suggested to Lee by Acid Jazz’s Eddie Piller. In Lee’s hands, Renee Geyer’s ‘Be There In The Morning’ is pure celebration, taking its cue from the Norman Connors version from 1979. ‘I Love You’, written by Don Blackman and recorded by Weldon Irvine in 1976, could have been written with Lee in mind. A big club tune, Dee recalls hearing it everywhere she went and I wanted to keep as close to the original vibe as she could.

Dee’s relationship with Acid Jazz the goes back to The Style Council days, and it was the 2019 documentary ‘Long Hot Summers’ that renewed Dee’s friendship with label founder Ed Piller and director Dean Rudland. We’re honoured to release this record and be a part of Dee’s return to the forefront of UK soul music.

Having been re-discovered as a groundbreaking slice of proto-grime from 1994, Dylan Beale’s legendary soundtrack for the SNES game Wolverine: Adamantium Rage finally gets the reissue treatment it deserves via Sneaker Social Club.

When the game came out in 1994, Beale’s soundtrack for the SNES edition stood out from the pack for its gritty beats, deceptively weighty low end and edgy orchestra stabs, but few would have guessed how certain tracks would predict the shape of music to come. Around 2016, the ‘Tri-fusion’ track in particular was picked up on by London-based producer Sir Pixalot as a mind-blowing slice of Eski beat coldness. To prove his point, Pixalot ran an acapella from J-Wing over the track and the results spoke for themselves.

While ‘Tri-Fusion’ is a straight-up accidental grime sheller, there’s scores more heat packed away in Beale’s soundtrack for Adamantium Rage. The limitations of the space on the game cart meant Beale had to get creative with the most limited samples. Fortunately his background producing UK hardcore and jungle in Rude & Deadly and Stuck To Your Lips meant he knew his way around the restrictions of an Akai s950. Fuelled by the inspiration of jungle and West Coast rap, he worked on the game soundtrack with a similar spartan attitude, limited to 200kb with which to load up the music engine for the game, samples and all.

Given the importance of minimalism in the effectiveness of soundsystem music, it’s not surprising tracks like ‘Cyber’ and ‘Dark Queen’ pack a punch which could absolutely set a dance off. Watch out for ‘Weapon X Lab’ too - another stand out bomb creating a deadly machine funk out of the tightly clipped bass samples and weird animal groan loops. Alongside the full, original soundtrack, this first issue of Wolverine: Adamantium Rage OST comes with additional tracks never used in the original game which widen out the styles Beale was exploring within the shockingly limited means at his disposal.

“I vividly remember when we first played the soundtrack on a bigger set of speakers to the boss,” Beale recalls, “his initial reaction was one of amazement that we had created something so ‘real’and different in comparison to everything else out there in terms of video game music, which I remember with great pride and fondness. Comparing to everything out there, it was totally unique- a moment in time.”

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

This almost lost treasure from 1993 was heavily supported by Sven Väth during his Omen times and was released by the label Ongaku which was run by Ata and Heiko M/S/O. It was produced by the Frankfurt based techno mentors Kay Praag and Jörn Elling Wuttke (Alter Ego, Sensorama) and celebrates its 30 year anniversary. „What is soul?“ is one of those classics which has not been played to death and comes along with brand new interpretations by no one else than Joris Voorn and Joseph Ashworth. Now we recall what soul really is…

Clear Vinyl

The debut album from Samuel Coates, AKA Setaoc Mass, crystallises the expansive, left-field vision that's been brewing in his techno-focused discography. Now, downtempo, drum & bass and electro-influenced soundscapes come through strong, as the Manchester-born, Berlin-residing artist combines a decade of dance floor experience and a lifetime of wide-ranging music tastes. The album's 14 tracks transcend the dance with rhythmic and tonal adventure. The urgency of Coates' techno records remains, though now suspended in an unbound space that switches between unpredictable body music and eyes closed moments of escape. Timeless melodies recall the golden era of UK electronica, while ultra-modern production drives the record's microscopic details home. A lovingly crafted collection of the tracks that have been kept for when the time is right. It's the sound of Samuel Coates, then Setaoc Mass - vulnerable but visceral music that demands your full attention.

Having crested the west coast modular-ambient wave in just a few releases - including 2018's Sharing Waves on the influential LA experimental imprint Leaving Records - Sean Hellfritsch has swapped the mossy analog synth improvisations of his prior output for refined melodic arrangements dressed in sprightly dawn-of-digital textures. Big Earth Energy plumbs the depths of Hellfritsch's multimedia mind and naturalist heart, spinning an impressionistic narrative world off of cultural touchstones like the PC game MYST, and the work of Studio Ghibli composer Joe Hisaishi. Inspired by the aforementioned, and guided by Hellfritsch's experience as an animator and filmmaker, Big Earth Energy is the soundtrack to a hypothetical video game with a pointedly ecological premise, and a twist of psychedelic charm. In Hellfritsch's imagined virtual journey, the player assumes the perspective of a treefrog sixty-five-million years ago, hopping epochs with each new level, forming a comprehensive picture of the massive changes the planet has gone through over the eons. The ultimate goal of the game is not to amass resources, defeat enemies, or gain power, but to fully witness the unfolding of one of the biggest systems of energy imaginable - or as the album's creator puts it - "to explore the incomprehensibly vast energetic expression and mystery that is Earth." Big Earth Energy is steeped in exploratory RPG intrigue, possibility, and contemplation, lovingly overlaid with Miyazaki-an sentiments and aesthetics. The through-composed, organic, meandering synthesis heard on previous Cool Maritime albums has been fully replaced by meticulous polygonal arrangements that recall the computerized sheen of late 80s work by composers like Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Yoichiro Yoshikawa - using true-to-period gear no less. Even given its referentiality, Big Earth Energy comes off as forward-facing where so much reminiscent music remains fixed to a bygone moment in pop culture. Hellfritsch has created a musical world where the endless verdancy of the biosphere finds its parallel in the golden age of early 1990s video games, and late 80s Japanese environmental music, all while pointing to a hopeful planetary and artistic future that vindicates the motives of all of these muses.

Son of Chi returns to Astral Industries, alongside Spanish artist Clara Brea, for the collaborative release of AI-29. A product of fate, chance experiments, but most of all, sensitive artistry - ’The Wetland Remixes’ exists as a confluence of two kindred musical spirits, a wayfaring epic that draws together a rich archive of ecological field recordings, live instrumentation and higher inspirations.

Ahead of Hanyo’s concert at Calma (Madrid) at the end of 2019, the curators organised a special dinner and arranged the meeting of Clara and Hanyo. As Hanyo recalls,“It was like stereochemistry. There was an instant match and understanding, and basically we decided in a split second to exchange recordings and to collaborate on future live and studio experiments.”

The auspicious meeting of the two ignited a remote exchange of materials and ideas, as the world descended into a series of pandemic-related lockdowns. The first of said recordings included the stems of Clara’s ‘Wetland Project’ - a site-specific audiovisual project originally produced for Eufonic Festival (Spain), using field recordings from the Ebro Delta nature reserve (one of the most threatened regions of climate change on the Iberian peninsula).

From this initial impetus, Hanyo began working on the first sketches of the album back in Rotterdam, Netherlands. Just like their meeting in Madrid, the project developed naturally and spontaneously with extraordinary ease. Later, Hanyo started adding field recordings from the Magic Cave and Wetlands of the ‘Kallikatsou’ (Patmos, Greece) as well as organic and acoustic overdubs, featuring bass, drums, percussion, guitars, oud, piano, hammond organ, wurlitzer, flutes, bells, and mouth harp.

In the distance, the sound of birds peak through the effervescent wash of the wetland soundscapes. The pass of running water flows deeper into a land full of secrets never told. On the strike of dusk, the silhouettes of shapely trunks and foliage melt slowly into the impenetrable darkness. As darkness passes, light emerges, with exquisite moments of tranquility that seemingly emerge from nothingness.

Beneath the shimmering veneer of textures, wildlife and melodies, one may hear the deeper references of ’The Wetland Remixes’. With credit to Clara’s input, for Hanyo the album process became a kind of refuge, and ultimately inspired the return to the core of Abstract Sound - what the Sufis call“Saut-i Sarmad.”Such references allude to the spiritual quality embedded in the music - the autonomous process of self-expression, the great mystery. Hanyo: “An ambience like this cannot be created by routine. There is no blueprint. The music has to find you. It’s like a blessing if it happens. You should not interfere, just observe and be impressed...”

Deep, luscious mind trips as per the classic Chi sound, ‘The Wetland Remixes’ beautifully correlates the interconnecting dots of geography, ecology, and mythology’s forgotten lore.

Baby Buddha is David Javelosa and musical partner Charles Hornaday playing instruments and providing their own whacked-out vocals. Baby Buddha really was less of a band than a project; a side project in fact, for some members of another group, Los Microwaves. Baby Buddha would eventually record and release an album, 1981's provocatively-titled Music for Teenage Sex on Robbie Fields' L.A.-based Posh Boy label.

Happily, the project's guiding creative light, David Javelosa has recently seen to a vinyl reissue of the now-40-year-old record, mystifyingly retitled Music for Teenage Sects. Definitely among the stranger releases of the new wave era, Music for Teenage Sex/Sects could perhaps only have been created when and where it was made. But on the occasion of its 40th anniversary, the music sounds as weirdly wonderful as ever. "We Are Not" sounds like Human League stuck in a car with The Residents. And their cover of "All Shook Up" sounds like a musical kin to those inscrutable eyeball guys too; it wouldn't be out of place on Meet the Residents. "Little Things" is a house-of-mirrors, scary track, with spoken-word vocals by Los Microwaves' Meg Brazill and label head Fields.

The album cover is slightly different as well: it displays a bedroom scene like the original LP, but with the young female model absent. The new release (on Javelosa's own Hyperspace Communications label) is pressed on beautiful translucent blue vinyl and comes in a gatefold sleeve with a lively collage of photos, buttons, gig posters. Limited to 500 copies.This playfully titled release features David Javelosa (on synth and vocals) along with Meg Brazill (on bass and vocals) plus drummer Todd "Rosa" Rosencrans. Side One features five studio tracks, none of which were included on the band's 1981 Posh Boy LP, Life After Breakfast. Three of these tracks were recorded in '82; there's no information regarding the provenance of the other two songs. The records' second side collects five live recordings, capturing Los Microwaves onstage in New York City (The Peppermint Lounge) and Boston as well as at San Francisco's own I-Beam, a venue that often played host to the band. Those tracks date form roughly the same ear, 1980-83. Sonically the songs variously recall Blondie, Flying Lizards, Gang of Four and a far less dour Human League. Importantly, the band rocks, even when it's employing a spare drum kit, solid but elemental bass, and monophonic analog synthesizers. The stripped down aesthetics of the group – necessitated by its minimalist instrumental approach – are nonetheless thrilling. Even if you weren't there in 1980, this'll take you back.

After a two year hiatus, DJ Spinna and Kai Alce return to BBE Music with the 5th instalment of their 7” vinyl series ‘Foundations’, this time showcasing Ralphi Rosario &Xaviera Gold’s undisputed club classic: ‘You Used To Hold Me’. With global interest in ‘45s on the rise, ‘Foundations’ aims to fill those frustrating gaps in all our collections by releasing specially crafted edits of classic house tracks on 7” vinyl for the very first time.

The youngest member chosen for Chicago’s ‘Hot Mix 5’ on WBMX back in 1981, Ralphi Rosario is nothing less than House Music royalty, and 1987 smash ‘You Used To Hold Me’ is surely his most enduring hit. Featuring fellow WBMX DJ and vocalist Xaviera Gold, the song has seen several cover versions, remixes and reissues over the years, but has surprisingly never before appeared on ’45. Spinna and Alce have chosen to create special edits of the ’87 ‘Riviera’ version and the ‘(You Used To Beat Me Black and Blue) Bonus Beats’ for this double-sided slice of Dance Music history.

“This is the blueprint to vocal House music and how it should be delivered” says Kai Alce, “and to have the opportunity to present it on 7" for the first time with Ralphi's blessing is overwhelmingly gratifying!”

“You Used To Hold Me seems like one of those anthemic jams that you pretty much heard everywhere- it was massive” recalls DJ Spinna. “I remember hearing it at the Paradise Garage in 1987, but it may have already been a hit on NY radio by that time. It’s one of those classic vocal tracks that impacted the House world as hard as Ten City ‘Devotion’ and ‘Move Your Body’ by Marshall Jefferson. The Bonus Beats on the 12” was a great tool for the DJ. You often heard it used in blends with other tracks.”

With his new album, Year Of The Living Dead, Vienna-born and LA-based producer John Tejada finds a blissful extended moment of balance between the new and the familiar. Anyone who’s followed his career to date, which has included four previous albums for Kompakt, outings for storied labels like Plug Research, Playhouse and Cocoon, and numerous remixes and collaborations – most recently, his Wajatta duo with actor and musician Reggie Watts – will immediately sense the warmth and eloquence that Tejada brings to his gilded, pliant techno and electro hybrids. But there’s more here, too; an explorer’s glimmer in the producer’s eye, as he gets to grips with new ways of working and being, while offering a reflective opening for the listener, something echoed in artwork by graphic designer and ‘contemplative artist’ David Grey.

“The album was started using tools I was unfamiliar with, which became an interesting exploratory process,” Tejada says. “Staying away from the obvious and having to re-learn simple things was a fun challenge.” You can hear these new creative pulsions pushing the eight tracks on Year Of The Living Dead ever-forward; the album has an unique cast, and though there are trace elements of the genres Tejada has indulged previously, he’s never quite put them together this way before. There’s the dubwise glitter sprinkled across the moody opener “The Haunting Of Earth”, the kind caresses found amongst the deftly woven textures of “Sheltered”, and the churchy melancholy, all hymnal and golden, of “Echoes Of Life”.

Year Of The Living Dead also speaks obliquely to its moment, though Tejada works this implicitly, allowing the strange circumstances of 2020 to cast their inevitable shadow without being obvious or didactic. “The production process began right before lockdown and continued through what felt like a very serious time for all of us,” he recalls. “Not being able to see or touch our loved ones made me feel we are all like ghosts. We can observe from a distance but cannot really be there. We are isolated and alone.” And yet, Year Of The Living Dead’s tenderness offers an out for that anxiety and loneliness, its intimate immensities gifting the album a redemptive and compassionate core. Compact and glistening, Year Of The Living Dead sculpts unassuming beauty.

Mit seinem neuen Album “Year Of The Living Dead“ findet der in Wien geborene und in Los Angeles lebende Produzent John Tejada die richtige Balance zwischen Neuem und Vertrautem. Wer seine bisherige Karriere verfolgt hat, seine vier Alben für Kompakt, Beiträge für Labels wie Plug Research, Playhouse und Cocoon, zahlreiche Remixe und Kollaborationen wie zuletzt das Projekt Wajatta zusammen mit dem Schauspieler und Musiker Reggie Watts, spürt sofort wieder die Wärme und Eloquenz, die Tejada in seine geschmeidigen Techno-Elektro-Hybride einbringt. Doch es geht auch noch einen Schritt weiter. Da ist dieses Aufblitzen des Entdeckers im Auge eines Produzenten, der sich mit neuen Arbeits- und Seinsweisen auseinandersetzt und dem Zuhörer gleichzeitig etwas sehr Offenes und Nachdenkliches anbietet, etwas, das im Artwork des Grafikdesigners und "kontemplativen Künstlers" David Grey nachklingt.

"Ich hatte angefangen, das Album mit mir noch unbekannten Tools zu produzieren, was sich zu einem interessanten Forschungsprozess für mich entwickelte", sagt Tejada. "Sich vom allzu Offensichtlichen zu trennen und einfache mal Dinge neu lernen zu müssen, war eine recht spaßige Herausforderung.“ Man kann diese neuen kreativen Impulse hören, die “Year Of The Living Dead“ auf einer Länge von 8 Tracks nach vorne treiben; das Album hat einen einzigartigen Ansatz, denn obwohl es Elemente der Genres gibt, denen Tejada zuvor gefrönt hat, hatte er sie doch noch nie zuvor so zusammengefügt wie hier. Da ist dieses dubbige Glitzern im atmosphärischen Opener "The Haunting Of Earth", die freundlichen Zärtlichkeiten, die man in den Texturen von "Sheltered" findet, und schließlich die heilige Melancholie im hymnischen "Echoes Of Life".

Auch “Year Of The Living Dead“ enthält Andeutungen auf die momentane Situation und erlaubt es, den seltsamen Umständen des Jahres 2020, ihren unvermeidlichen Schatten zu werfen, ohne dabei zu offensichtlich oder gar belehrend zu sein. "Der Produktionsprozess begann kurz vor dem (ersten) Lockdown und setzte sich in einer Zeit fort, die sich für uns alle als eine sehr ernste Zeit anfühlte", erinnert er sich. "Da wir nicht in der Lage waren, unsere Lieben zu sehen oder zu berühren, hatte ich das Gefühl, dass wir alle wie Geister sind. Wir können nur distanzierte Beobachter sein, aber wir können nicht wirklich anwesend sein. Wir sind isoliert und allein." Und doch scheint die Zärtlichkeit von "Year Of The Living Dead" einen Ausweg aus dieser Angst und Einsamkeit anzubieten, die grenzenlose Intimität des Albums enthält einen erlösenden und mitfühlenden Kern. Derart konsistent und schillernd formt "Year Of The Living Dead" eine unprätentiöse Schönheit.

The sixth and final part of Eel Behaviour is here. Opening up with the pacy, acid-tinged power of Panmella Calix's "Tip", you could be forgiven for thinking that this dancefloor destroyer out of Scandinavia was made in the mid-nineties (and you could be right!). Suneel Shark's "Blunt But Fair" got lost in the Irish Sea many times before we finally reeled in the DAT on a fishing trip close to Portmarnock. The Arctic Ocean resident sprung out of the water on this one, in naturally fast and slippery style.

On the flip, French techno supremo Zadig delivers an acid-rave-breakbeat combo on "Red Eye", recalling the early era of labels like UR, Missile and Synewave, and creating a massive bomb in the process. That then brings us to Jon Hussey, who wraps up the record with an expert slice of bubbling, trippy acid. "Engine Brood" and its hypnotic properties transport us to another dimension, and the end stop on our Eel Behaviour journey. As ever, artwork is from Adult Art Club's Jonny Costello, with this one coming on clear vinyl.

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

Destination Unknown is an EP by Unpronounceable born from an archive of sounds collected between 2019 and 2024—sonic fragments that took shape without a predetermined direction guided only by an open idea in constant transformation. The original track conceived as a “destination unknown” composition developed its own independent identity. However precisely because of its fluid and cross-genre nature Unpronounceable chose not to place it within a traditional EP context instead opening it up to a multiplicity of perspectives by inviting five artists to reinterpret it freely without genre constraints.

The result is an EP that unfolds like an alternative map of the same sonic territory where each remix explores a distinct direction transforming Destination Unknown into a multifaceted and ever-evolving experience.

In Carl Finlow’s remix Destination Unknown takes on a strong cinematic and narrative dimension. Inspired by the title Finlow imagines a mysterious journey toward a futuristic dystopian city turning the track into a kind of electro soundtrack—dark yet ironic rich in character and capable of evoking vivid images and motion.

MANASYt pushes the track toward more physical and ritualistic territories focusing on the dark pads and the more oneiric vocal elements of the original. The result is a hypnotic pulsating tribal-industrial reinterpretation where rhythm and sonic material become central intensifying the track’s most visceral qualities.

With Gay Horror the focus shifts to an emotional and narrative dimension. The vocals are deliberately made elusive and undefined while the structure develops through a slow controlled crescendo that recalls the atmospheres of ’90s trip-hop. This version also reflects a long-standing human and artistic relationship conceived as a story that travels through time and reaches the present day.

Kevin Follet adopts a more conceptual approach overturning the perspective of the original track. Rather than working with its main elements he brings the underlying structures to the foreground transforming what usually remains hidden into the core of his reinterpretation. His remix is elegant and deep balancing sound exploration with a strong attention to songwriting.

Closing the EP is GP The Synth Roller with a radical and highly experimental reinterpretation. The track behaves like an unstable system: parameters shift without warning surfaces lose coherence sudden accelerations collide with moments of arrest. There is no resolution only a sonic condition in constant tension eventually condensing into a dark compact mass.

Taken as a whole Destination Unknown is far more than a simple remix collection: it is a collective exploration of the potential of a single composition. Unpronounceable’s original track and the reinterpretations by Carl Finlow MANASYt Gay Horror Kevin Follet and GP The Synth Roller move across electro techno industrial and experimental territories offering six different perspectives from the same starting point. An open journey with no fixed destination where every detour becomes an integral part of the path.

Originally released in 2014 on cassette and digital only, Till Human Voices Wake Us was the first album by the Iranian artist on Umor Rex. It became a key work in our catalog, and now, 12 years later, it is available on vinyl for the first time. This is the first in a series of four special, limited reissues to be released in 2026 to mark the 20th anniversary of Umor Rex.

Till Human Voices Wake Us comprises ten tracks with a clear and carefully structured script, based on poems by T.S. Eliot, highlighting Siavash Amini’s work as a composer for theater, film, and art exhibitions. His music deliberately leans toward ambient expressions, at times recalling Morricone’s Western film scores. The interplay between synthetic and digital elements, together with multilayered, soul-healing electric guitar passages, creates an opulent sonic texture that moves between dramatic and melancholic moments with a finely constructed, fluid dynamism.

There is an emotional depth in each piece, guided by tonal variations and shifting textures that turn the music into a mental journey, with landscapes, a sense of cold resolution, and the quiet inevitability of an ending. Till Human Voices Wake Us was Amini’s first album on a non-Iranian label. Following this release, he has also published work, in addition to Umor Rex, on labels such as Room40, Hallow Ground, and Opal Tapes, among others, and is now considered one of the most prominent figures in Iran’s experimental music scene.

All music by Siavash Amini. Original master by Nicholas Szczepanik. Remastered for vinyl by Rafael Anton Irisarri. Artwork by Daniel Castrejón.

"Already established within Iran’s music scene, Siavash Amini has crafted a powerful signature sound that blends meticulously assembled ambient synthesis with languid electric guitar melodies, recalling Lanois and Eno’s classic Apollo." — THE QUIETUS (Tristan Bath)