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DESTRUCTION UNIT sind eine amerikanische Band, die in der Wüste Arizonas zusammenkam. Gegründet von Ryan Rousseau waren D. UNIT ursprünglich ein synthielastiges Trio, dessen andere Mitglieder Jay Reatard und Alicja Trout (LOST SOUNDS) waren - ebenso war Rousseau ein Mitglieder der REATARDS, bevor Jay auf Solopfaden wanderte. Geboren im Dunstkreis der Memphis Goner Records Szene und verpflanzt nach Tempe, Arizona, hat Rousseau des Band zu einem kompletten Soundangriff geformt, für den drei Gitarristen (er selbst, Nick Nappa und Jesco Aurelius), sein Bruder Rusty am Bass und ein 19-jähriger, klassisch ausgebildeter Schlagzeuger, Andrew Flores, verantwortlich sind. DESTRUCTION UNIT haben auf dem bandeigenen Label Ascetic House bereits einige Kassetten, auf Jolly Dream eine LP namens ,Void" und kürzlich eine limitierte 7" auf Suicide Squeeze veröffentlicht. ,Deep Trip" ist ihr erstes echtes Studioalbum. Produziert von Ben Greenberg von THE MEN, HUBBLE & PYGMY SHREWS im Vacation Island Studio in New York. Morphium Boogie für den Noisesüchtigen des 21. Jahrhunderts. "Skull-crushing repetition, menacing walls of nuanced guitar noise, feedback magick wah'd from hell to the sky, a sprawling kraut backbone, evil melodies." - Pitchfork

Bendik Giske’s Beatrice Dillon-produced 2023 album gets an addendum with reworks from Carmen Villain, aya, Hanne Lippard, Hieroglyphic Being, Wacław Zimpel and Dillon herself.

Giske’s clearly got his ear to the ground; his last remix record was an invitation for Laurel Halo to put her stamp on »Cruising«, while 2018’s »Adjust EP« roped in Deathprod, Total Freedom, Lotic, and Rezzett. Now comes this new LP of remixes and it’s one of the best we’ve heard in aeons. Carmen Villain boots things off with a remix of »Slipping«, following her excellent (and way, way too underrated) »Nutrition EP« with a giddy, subtle roller that sounds as if it’s been constructed using only Giske’s raw stems. His breaths and leathery key presses – already amped up by Dillon’s detailed recording – are magicked into a dubby concrète groove that’s enhanced with the sparest melodic elements: echoing rainforest-at-night horn blasts, and lopped off decay trails that help fuel the momentum.

aya’s revision of the same track takes a different approach, forming forceful overlapping polyrhythms from Giske’s clanks, using the gamelan-like arpeggios for melodic weight and repetition. The result is a constantly shifting, hypnotic trancer that’s achingly organic – more Raja Kirik than Paul Van Dyke. Polish clarinetist and producer Wacław Zimpel, meanwhile, supplements his trippy recent collaboration with James Holden on a similarly levitational wrinkle of »Slipping« that twists Giske’s quivering sequences with microtonal synth prangs, and gusty echoes. But it’s Jamal Moss who plays fastest and loosest with Giske’s source material, calling back to April’s psy-house stunner »Dance Music 4 Bad People« with a powdery, sexualised banger that buries the breathy »Start« stems underneath neon synths, and brittle drum loops.

»I’m a digital nomad,« Lippard deadpans over Giske’s »Not Yet«. »I’m addicted you know that.« It’s a typically dry treatment from the conceptual artist that unexpectedly amps up the hypnotic qualities of Giske’s original, adding her circuitous charm to his concertina-ing sax sequences. And to tie things up perfectly, Beatrice Dillon returns with her diaphanous remix of »Rise and Fall«, built to emphasise the radically different approaches of each artist.

"Astral Americana hymns hovering somewhere between the dirt and the stars" Pitchfork

"Mood music for moments of solitude, best experienced without distraction" The Times

"Overwhelmingly effective and ravishingly beautiful" The Wire

American Dust is an ode to the beauty of the American Southwest, where vast desert landscapes hold stories both stark and tender. Eve Adams’ characteristic folk noir weaves a vivid tapestry of love, sacrifice and quiet revelation, conjuring images of dust storms, stray dogs and far off trains.

The high desert of California is a vast and confounding place. Equally inspiring as it is punishing, it’s a landscape that carries magic in its deep dark nights, holding stories both tender and stark in the coarse layer of dust that settles upon everything. It’s long been a source of inspiration for musicians, writers, and painters, each of them adding to the same current, carried forward over time, through hope and hardship and the passing years.

Somewhere out there in that broad and boundless landscape, Eve Adams has been living her own desert life, quietly writing the follow-up to 2021’s Metal Bird LP. Where that album sang of liminal space, the dream-like turbulence of Hollywood’s golden age, American Dust is far more rooted in traditional storytelling; a eulogy for the American Dream channeled through that sweeping part of the country that holds such power and mystery. Slipping into different and varied costumes throughout its ten songs, it finds Eve not just observing the people around her but stepping into their shoes and peeling back the layers of their quiet lives.

Adams writes from within. A few years ago she moved out there, to “the middle of nowhere”, finding a slowness that didn’t exist in the city, and she knows only too well about the mystical nature of the land and those who live within it. Weaving together themes of grit and romance, American Dust holds its focus on the bittersweet poetry of lives lived in solitude, most notably the women who sustain life at the center of it all. “There’s something very radical about domestic life,” Adams says of this thread. “So many women live their entire lives behind closed doors, completely in the shadows. Within those lives is such sacrifice, devotion, and love. I wanted to honor that: the poetry in the mundane, the longing in the repetition. The way love survives boredom and dust and time.”

Eve is joined on American Dust by Canadian musician Bryce Cloghesy, aka Military Genius of Crack Cloud, who plays throughout and also helped produce the album. Musically bold and vivid, it’s an ambitious and detailed stride forward from what’s come before, the scope of the LP’s narrative reflected in the radiant sweep of the playing. On top of gentle piano and guitar, gorgeous strings drift through the album, lending the songs a woozy sense of romanticism; a collaboration with Gamaliel Traynor (Cello) and Caroline’s Oliver Hamilton (Violin).

For all the drama that’s coiled around these songs, it’s the recurring notion of love and hope fighting against everything that holds true throughout American Dust. Musically it’s lush and vibrant, intimate and cinematic side by side, and always bursting with warmth. But it’s what it holds in its weary bones that elevates it to something truly special, something more than just a collection of songs penned in the heart of the desert. The characters it speaks of, and from, feel shadowed but wholly real, like they’re bursting to share their stories that have remained hidden for years and years and they allow Eve Adams to grow as a songwriter right in front of our eyes.

“The same swirling dust that clung to the covered wagons of my ancestors as they crossed the Great American Desert is the same dust my great-great-grandmother swept off her porch during the Dust Bowl of 1936 in Oklahoma, is the same dust that blows in through the cracks in my windows here in the desert, carrying stories from a time long gone,” Eve says, reflecting on the personal narrative that runs through her new album.

“It’s not just dust—it’s American Dust, the kind that settles into the bones of a family and never leaves. I think about that dust as a symbol of the passage of time. I hope this album will be part of that same current, carrying forward for the next generations of my family to find. I’ve been lucky enough to have journals and poetry from my ancestors that documents their lives during times of pure hope and pure hardship. I’d like to think of this album as a contribution to that family history.”

The Vestige is the first fruit of a new intergenerational collaboration between Giuseppe Ielasi, a quietly prolific key contributor to the European experimental music scene for over twenty years, and Jack Sheen, a young composer-conductor-sound artist from Manchester whose recent projects have seen him moving seamlessly from enigmatic chamber music composition and installations to conducting the London Symphony Orchestra. Their materials and working methods differ significantly, with Ielasi having focussed for many years on electro-acoustic techniques alongside his ongoing commitment to the guitar, and Sheen primarily composing for traditional instruments. More important, though, is what they share: a fascination with what Sheen calls “mysterious, liminal musical material,” using irregular repetition and cyclical forms to create structures at once alive with activity and almost static, as well as a rigorous exploration of spatial diffusion and the interaction of sound event and environment. Working individually with a library of acoustic instrument sounds from Sheen’s recent projects and Ielasi’s guitar, the pair eventually met for several days at Ielasi’s home studio in Monza, sculpting the fourteen pieces that make up The Vestige. Like Ielasi and Sheen’s solo works, the record shows an exquisite attention to details of sequencing and pacing, the sound palette and compositional approach consistent throughout while each piece asserts its own identity. The twenty-five seconds of the opening piece serve as an entrée into the record’s distinctive world of sound: repeated chirps fluctuate in volume as they move across the stereo spectrum, woven between strangled snatches of string glissando against a backdrop of percussive ticks, long tones, and white noise. Across the remaining thirteen pieces, Ielasi and Sheen sketch further dimensions of the ambiguous space, where distinctions between pitch and noise, repetition and irregularity, electronic and acoustic remain pointedly unclear. As the record’s title suggests, the origins of the sounds we hear have become remote: while at moments we get flashes of timbres and attacks that could come from wind instruments, bowed strings, or prepared guitar, these remain vestigial traces, glimpsed through a veil of shifting white noise textures. These textures are themselves difficult to trace, suggesting artefacts of the recording process, electronic synthesis, amplified room sound, rubbed instruments or objects. The Vestige shows an unusual degree of attention to frequency range as a compositional tool, something it shares with the hyper-subtle variations of Ielasi’s electroacoustic works and the deliberately ‘unbalanced’ midrange-heavy ensemble of Sheen’s Sub. Here, movement between episodes is as much about adding or removing a frequency band as it is about changes in density, harmonic content, or instrumental texture. Tracks are marked by the sudden appearance of subbass or exaggeration of high frequencies in otherwise similar material, contributing to our sense that these fourteen pieces are like different views on a scene that we can never quite see clearly. While calling up a range of past music, from the early works of Rolf Julius to Simha Arom’s recordings of layered polyrhythms embedded in the background sounds of central African villages to the temporal distortions and layered hiss of DJ Screw, the alluring and disconcerting world of The Vestige is entirely its own.

Ty Segall follows 2022"s acoustic introspection opus "Hello, Hi" with a deeper, wilder journey to the center of the self. With Three Bells, he"s created a set of his most ambitious, elastic songs, using his musical vocabulary with ever-increasing sophistication. It"s an obsessive quest for an expression that answers back to the riptide always pulling him subconsciously into the depths. Questions we all ask in our own private mirrors are faced down here - and regardless of what the mysterious "Three Bells" mean in the context of the album"s libretto, you can be assured that Ty"s ringing them for himself, and for the rest of us in turn.

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

Strut now present a new single vinyl reissue of Vambe"s privately pressed original album from 1982, Drumgita Solo. A self-taught drummer, inventor, and sonic experimentalist, Vambe is a unique figure in British music. The creator of his own instrument, the drumgita (pronounced "drum-guitar") or string-drum, Vambe intended to create a kind of music that had never been made in order to pursue access to the fourth dimension. The album plays with time, mixing hypnotic, trance-like drumgita pieces with the same segments played backwards. You can hear echoes of African drumming traditions, minimalist repetition, and tape-manipulated musique concrète - but ultimately, the album defies genre. It is a solitary voyage, spiritual and futuristic.

In the world of Pharaoh Overlord, little is ever as it seems. This band is less comprised of tricksters or mischief makers than fearless obsessives whose musical instincts take twisted and wild pathways. Now, fresh from forays into Italo-disco and synth-pop, they have thrown another still more mighty statement of intent into the universe. Louhi is a thunderous and majestic epic of joyful repetition and earth shaking power. A two-track minimalist-rock monolith forged from guitars, synths and hurdy-gurdy, inspired by the band’s eternal touchstone influence Outside The Dream Syndicate by Tony Conrad and Faust, and constructed around a single riff and melodic idea, it builds and evolves to fearsome pinnacles of elemental intensity.Luminaries and constant compatriots in the Pharaoh Overlord
headspace were recruited for this voyage into the ether. Vocalist and longtime collaborator Aaron Turner (SUMAC, Isis, Old Man Gloom)and Tyneside maverick Richard Dawson were equally keen to get on board, the former taking a spontaneous and improvisatory approach to his vocal parts, and the latter largely playing a part consisting of one guitar chord. Yet whatever routes Pharaoh Overlord take to their destination, a common theme is the consciousness-warping singularity of the riff and the mantra, and the temporal disorientation this can provoke mirrors the broader designs of this record, which takes traditional folk elements and transports them in the band’s singular time machine. “It’s our 25th Anniversary this year, and from time to time we hear wishes that if just we could play more of the stuff that we did twenty or more years ago” relate Jussi and Tomi. “We totally understand this. You could say we used Louhi to reset ourselves to the past, to be able to continue again to the future.” Aaron puts it another way, evoking simplicity in the chaos – “The world of Pharaoh Overlord is a magical one - every album is an invitation to enter that place and rejoice in doing so…”

Black Vinyl LP. The world has changed, we shouldn't try and pretend otherwise. While we were shut away in isolation our routines shifted, social patterns evolved, and our hopes and dreams were twisted into cobwebs we're still trying to wipe from our fingers. Ziúr tentatively approached this on her last album Antifate, an ambitious and complex hybrid pop fever dream that looked back to a Medieval escapist fantasy as the scent of revolution seemed to hum in the air. But when restrictions were eased, she found herself staring down a discombobulated society that had trapped itself in a spiral of microwaved nostalgia and detached, narcotic repetition. Eyeroll then is Ziúr's musical panacea, a tincture to wake us from our creative slumber and prompt external connection and reflection. It's a polyphonous hex that demands human interaction, and Ziúr's hand-picked alliance of collaborators - Elvin Brandhi, Abdullah Miniawy, Iceboy Violet, Juliana Huxtable, Ledef, and James Ginzburg - each provide distinct voices that together herald a bewildering sonic epoch. Ziúr's palette had to evolve to match the scope of the project, but it was pure necessity that informed the album's defining tone. Recording mostly at night, Ziúr was conscious of the noise she was making so developed a unique way to record organic percussion. Using a set of rototoms - low profile tunable drums - she scratched, scraped and gently tapped the skins to build up the undulating and unstable rhythmic backdrop for each track. It's the first sound we hear on the opener 'Eyeroll', rattling like lost marbles against Elvin Brandhi's primal croaks and screams. And when Brandhi's twisted articulations form words, Ziúr matches the energy with chaotic thuds and serrated blasts of saturated electronics. "I roll the shittiest cigarette," she squeals like she's about to start a mosh pit at Paris's GRM Studios. Without pause, Abdullah Miniawy takes over on 'Malikan', building on the promise of material with Simo Cell, Carl Gari and HVAD with corrosive trumpet blasts and charged, politically incendiary Arabic vocals. Inspired by pre-Islamic poetry and the Qu'ranic chanters he heard growing up in Saudi Arabia and Egypt, he spins labyrinthine stories that cross between the worlds, breaking down physical and spiritual borders simultaneously. Miniawy's scope is expanded even further on his second collaboration, 'If The City Burns I Will Not Run'. "If it rains and the city drowns," he utters over gaseous electronics, "I will not run away, but I will be anxious for the heart of one close to me." After a supple vocal turn from Manchester's Iceboy Violet on 'Move On' and a surreal interlude from poet- DJ-artist-theorist Juliana Huxtable on '99 Favor Taste', Brandhi returns with two more hyperactive collaborations: ,'Nontrivial Differential' and 'Cut Cut Quote'. On the former she slices into Ziúr's skeletal jazz eruptions, screaming and crooning interchangeably, fluxing between the rap battle and the cabaret. The latter is completely different meanwhile, with Brandhi settling into her role as front-woman and groaning dizzying improvised passages that sound like grunge crossed with psychedelic no-wave. Brandhi's spiky musical history has prepared her well for this collaboration; she's a prolific producer and has been using her voice spontaneously since debuting with father-daughter improv duo Yeah You in the mid 2020s. She's found an ideal foil in Ziúr, a producer who matches her restless energy and willingness to bend formality, and leaves an indelible mark on Eyeroll. But the album's most tender moments are from Ziúr herself, who winds the album down on 'Hasty Revisionism', growling over collapsible beats and cascading strings, and comes to an unexpected conclusion with country coda 'Lacrymaturity'. Its feverish amalgamation of country music and euphoric, experimental electronics might seem incongruous at first, but in context with the rest of the album is the only possible conclusion. With Eyeroll Ziúr is making a firm statement about togetherness, humanity, and the renewal of hope when all seems lost. By bringing together such a wide but philosophically harmonic team of collaborators, she's conducted a body of work that speaks to the creative fringe in no uncertain terms. Now's the time to throw away what you think you know, and build bridges you didn't think you need. Now's the time for action. She may have spent her entire career avoiding the solipsistic trappings of "queer art", but by assembling a communal statement that questions so many normative assumptions about music, politics, and beyond, Ziúr has chanced upon her queerest album yet. Cringe? Eyeroll.

Playing with a Different Sex was the debut album by seminal post-punk band Au Pairs, released in 1981.

Described retrospectively by AllMusic as ‘one of the great post-punk records’, a review by Record Mirror on its release said the band’s ‘critique of all forms of possession and sexual stereotyping assumes a devastating power’. Themes include sexual politics and the torture of women imprisoned in Northern Ireland during The Troubles of the 1970s, as well as a stunning cover of David Bowie’s ‘Repetition’ about domestic violence. It peaked at No. 33 in the UK, and features the single ‘It's Obvious’, which reached No. 37 on the US Club Play Singles chart. Playing with a Different Sex is available as a numbered limited edition of 750 copies on turquoise coloured vinyl and contains an insert.

Reissue of in-demand Italo title, with accompanying edits by Hysteric. "For the much-requested 12'' reissue of Roaring Mosquitoes, Best Record followed the hint by a die-hard German researcher and esteemed DJ of 'hidden musical treasures' Frinda Di Lanco. Further enriching this reissue - masterfully remastered by Dom Scuteri - with two of his splendid edits is the Australian DJ-producer George Hysteric, one of the world's leading authorities and a leading figure in Italo Disco. The juxtaposition of the two songs performed with grit and physicality by Agostina Casalino and her cousin Antonietta Casalino (aka Roaring Mosquitoes) highlights two aesthetically and rhythmically similar approaches, albeit with different roots and inspirations. "You Aren't With Me" has the merit of not wanting to reinvent the genre, but exploits the familiarity of pop-dance forms, obtaining an immediate catchiness. The piece stands out for its linearity while reworking melodic mechanisms typical of the 80s new wave: short instrumental intro, well-defined verse-chorus, obsessive repetition of melodic hooks that make it an immediate and "dragging" song on the dance floor. The arrangement focuses on a solid electronic drum groove, sinuous basslines, clean guitar riffs, "cutting" keyboards and the use of the chorus typical of the Italo Disco of those years. Some passages recall the melodic line and rhythmic progression of "Tonight... Crazy Night", an intriguing song that the Canadian artist Dorine Hollier created in 1984 at the Titania Studios in Rome with Pierluigi Giombini. Even with "Ah Ah Ah Ah" which features a vibrant and cheerful sound there's a playful use of citation for some idea that Diego Pepe took from a Micky & Joyce track. It evokes the "space disco" spirit of Jean-Pierre Massiera and the influence of the French scene of 1979: polyphonic synthetic strings, echo effects on electronic hi-hats and a vaguely futuristic atmosphere, but with an even more captivating sound revitalized with more scratchy modern touches and compressed basslines. A mix of vintage and contemporary that enhance its charm."

''Earth Dog Records presents ''Bongdrift,'' the 10th addition to our discography and the latest release from Milan's Inner Lakes. Spirits drift through an early-morning haze, chasing the pulse of the after-hours. Crunchy, tightly wound drums immerse themselves amidst aqueous textures and ghostly vocal fragments, rippling through the mix like transmissions from another realm. All four tracks are built for the heads-down, eyes-closed moments-- where the floor becomes a world of its own, guided by rhythm, shadow, and repetition.''

Since first forming in 2016, London's High Vis have steadily polished their palette of progressive hardcore with shades of post-punk, Brit pop, neo-psychedelia, and even Madchester groove, mapping a middle ground between hooks and fury, melodies and mosh pits. Singer Graham Sayle describes their third album 'Guided Tour' as an axis of competing forces: "It's trying to be a hopeful record, while also being incensed." Rounded out by drummer Edward 'Ski' Harper, guitarists Martin MacNamara and Rob Hammaren, and bassist Jack Muncaster, the band's deep roots in the UK and Irish DIY hardcore scenes have kept them grounded but growing, inspired equally by restlessness and righteous anger. As Sayle puts it, "Everyone's scratching, everyone's working all the time, and their idea of relaxing is just getting fucked and avoiding reality. This album is an escape from that."From its opening seconds of a cab door slamming, a car revving away, and a baggy rhythm swinging to life, 'Guided Tour' sounds like a band reaching for new heights, bristling with energy. Recorded across a few weeks at Holy Mountain Studios in London with producer Jonah Falco and engineer Stanley Gravett, the results feel dynamic and dialed-in, like anthems burned into sense memory through sweat and repetition. Harper cuts to the chase: "We had a clear idea going in, every moment got used. Maybe when we're 60 we can sit around and get a drum sound right, but for now it's about getting things done."The album's 11 songs span the spectrum of contemporary guitar music, sharpened by experience, camaraderie, and societal frustrations. From swaggering street punk ("Drop Me Out," "Mob DLA") to jangling indie sneer ("Worth The Wait," "Deserve It") to heavy alt ("Feeling Bless," "Fill The Gap") to shoegazey spoken word ("Untethered"), the group's chemistry transmutes any style to their unique intensity. Sayle champions this evolving fusion: "For years coming from hardcore, we had pretty clear boundaries - other scenes were separate worlds. Now things are getting more blended, drawing from different places."Nowhere is this sentiment flexed more boldly than on "Mind's A Lie," a dance- punk anthem inspired by Harper's love of house, garage, and pirate radio. Stabs of sampled female vocals (by celebrated South London singer and DJ Ell Murphy) build into a razor wire rhythm of low-slung bass, tense drums, and sparkling guitar before Sayle's staunch voice starts barking harsh truths ("Face to face with all I've known / I can't call these thoughts my own"). After a sudden breakdown, the track regroups and takes off, cruising into the horizon in a haze of chiming guitars and Murphy's ascendant voice, from the streets to somewhere beyond.

We always knew we would return to this project because Brutalism remains a profound part of our lives, something we cherish deeply. Inspired by the photographs we have been capturing for a new book, the music emerged effortlessly. Documenting these buildings feels instinctive; this is where we belong.

Our unwavering fixation on symmetry, synchronisation, and repetition endures, but this time we believe the music reveals a more emotional depth. That is the direction we have been moving towards. Some things simply take time, yet this album seemed to take shape of its own accord.

Join us as we walk through these modern day cathedrals, monuments to the people.

Elektrotechnik - Impulse EP is functional, dark, built for the dance floor. Machine-tight sequencing stands in contrast to an emotional atmosphere across four original tracks. A tense, precisely constructed record that explores control, repetition and feelings. Dutch legend Rude 66 delivers a slowed-down mutation of "Impulse" with his signature vocoder work, while Teslasonic recharges "Das Fundament" with a tight acid bassline.

Quickly on the heels of their debut, Cuneiform Tabs return with Age, an LP that takes a massive leap forward in both melodic sensibilities and inventiveness. Bathed in late night psychedelia and the looping repetition of a drone sample, the group's experimental penchants remain, yet this time wrapped around tunes too sweet to be denied. In pulling back a little of the crackle and haze that made their first album so inviting, the Tabs have revealed more of their pop instincts. The overall effect is a perfect set of early Animal Collective demos or Syd Barrett attempting a Television Personalities cover at 3am.

The duo of Matt Bleyle and Sterling Mackinnon continue their system of trading 4-track tapes between the Bay Area and London, a furtive correspondence until sonic nuggets are fully formed. While these songs are very much the product of the Tascam and rudimentary software that is integral to the band, this album is truly the embrace of their songwriting talents – not unlike the recent breakthrough of labelmate Cindy Lee.

With the dream-like strum of "Ivy," slow shimmer of "Orbital Rings" and enchanting, madcap swirl of "Blended Medal," this is hypnagogic pop at its finest. Age is the record Bob Pollard hears in his head every time he steps down to the basement to pick up a guitar. This is the sound of riding in an elevator hearing McCartney singing "Blackbird" in the distance, only to have it draw closer and closer with each floor as you finally race down the hallway, putting your ear to each door searching for the source. This is Leonard Cohen smoking in the middle of the street outside a Suicide show. If all of this sounds phenomenal, it is.

On ‘Animal’, Ash Fure appeals to “animal intelligence” by using sounds that are inherently physical and driven by perception, athleticism and interaction. Placing polycarbonate sheeting over an inverted subwoofer she built alongside her partner Xavi Aguirre and brother Adam, Fure isolates the physical impact of sound by focusing on psychoacoustic sub-bass pulses, semi-perceptible micro-rhythms and discomfiting white noise bursts, linking the process to her experiences in Berlin and Detroit’s techno dungeons where the sound has to adapt to the space it’s performed in. When she performed ‘Animal’ for the first time, Fure fabricated a “listening gym”, allowing the audience to interact in real-time by circuit training in response to the sound. The sweat is almost audible across the record, a run-on selection of rhythms, resonances and abstractions that sound like interlocking heartbeats on a series of treadmills. Her fascination with techno’s cavernous cathedrals is clear from the beginning, but Fure doesn’t worship at the altar: we’re hit with the feeling, not the aesthetic. The beats themselves, made from unstable vibrations and waterlogged, reverberating clicks, echo the brain’s unconscious reaction to repetition in a vast concrete box, the feeling you get when each percussive snag ricochets from every surface in the building. Coddling these whirring, criss-crossing polyrhythms with harsh, distorted low-end retches, Fure accurately recreates the energy and fatigue of the endless weekend sesh. We never once encounter techno in its expected shell, just its residue - the outline of humans figuring out their relationship with technology, architecture and each other. Fure’s use of dynamics is also deviously smart, marking out an overall rhythm that’s not tied to the strength of the sounds themselves, but just volume and physical impact. Often her most brutal sounds - ear-splitting squeals and overdriven mechanical whirrs - are reduced to an almost inaudible level, a bit like the bandy legged trip to the bathroom, or the escape to some dimly lit nook, the part of the night where you can still detect the sound on your skin without being battered by it. When the undulating rhythm returns in earnest, Fure masks acidic sequences in jet engine expulsions, still refusing to objectify anything that an AI model might be able to pick up on.

Rocket Recordings’ new Black Hole Series is a place where the unorthodox, otherworldly and esoteric can flourish, and there could be no more fitting first release for it than the most powerful metaphysical travelogue yet from Moundabout. Journeying still further into and beyond the landscapes from which this duo have unearthed inspiration, ‘Goat Skull Table’ is a transmission to give flight to spectral visions and include trance-states in abundance.The vibrations and manifestations of the duo of Paddy Shine(GNOD) and Phil Langero (Los Langeros, Damp Howl, Bisect) has always resonated within a very specific sense of place, transcending linear narratives and astral planes in a quest to unite timeless spirits with inner space. This third release for Rocket Recordings sees them colluding with
the landscape of their surroundings, transcending linear narratives and astral planes in a quest to unite timeless spirits with inner space.The title track marks a focal point here; a Shamanic rite on which Langero’s charismatically charged mantras collude with an audial landscape somewhere on the map between the abstract spell-casting of Nurse With Wound and the druidic gnosticism of Julian Cope. This is Moundabout at their darkest and most ritualistic. Elsewhere, the hypnotic repetition of the twin ten-minute extrapolations ‘Blood On My Blanket’ and ‘Wagon’, and the potent incantatory chants of ‘Am I Not’ and ‘Brave New World’ glow with a rugged and
charged dynamism redolent of the Swedish Psychedelia of Träd, Gräs & Stenar, uniting a minimal aesthetic with maximal impact.
Dauntless, feverish, and reaching new heights of primal intensity ’Goat Skull Table’ is a formidable field guide to the earthen and other

To celebrate PigsX7 new album 'Death Hilarious', Rocket have reissued the bands long out of print debut album 'Feed The Rats' onto a special three colour splatter LP, so the 2025 repress comes on orange with red coloured plus black splatter on top vinyl. Playing their first gig supporting Goat at what was only the latter's second ever show, the band have gigged relentlessly with kindred spirits including The Cosmic Dead and Luminous Bodies, not to mention gracing festivals like Supernormal and Portugal's Reverence with their feral attack. This is their overwhelming first album - equal parts righteous repetition, bludgeoning brute force and Sabbathian squalor, its alchemical charge has the power to transform bleary-eyed abandon into small-hours revelation. This three-track, forty-minute monument of chaotic catharsis captures the spirit of the band's live manifestation whilst adding a level of finesse and texture. Channelling the grimy trip of Monster Magnet's pine Of God' through a prism of kraut-derived repetition and Part Chimp style bloodymindedness, the resulting hallucinatory vortex appears constantly on the realm of breaking point.Amps and brains alike, as these psychic omnivores bring seven times the joy, seven times the pain, seven times the dementia and deliverance.

Ben McElroy is a folk/experimental/ambient artist based in the UK. He has released prolific albums since his 2016 debut ‘Bird Stone’ for whitelabrecs. Notable releases since then include 2018s ‘The Word Cricket Made Her Happy’ for Eilean Rec and 2022s ‘How I Learnt to Disengage From The pack’ on The Slow Music Movement (which was folk album of the month in the Guardian).

«This album evolved from long improvisations on pump organ and cello. I really wanted to play the instruments as a form of therapeutic release, a kind of stimming, paying more attention to this than the Appollonian aspects of the music. So scrape and repetition… anger and using the bow/keys to really try to gnaw into deep, old brain feelings.
I often start things with improvisations, but then tidy, smooth things out… I wanted to keep that aspect to the minimum here.. there is some, but where possible I’ve kept the squeaks, the noises, the mistakes.
The project took on another dimension when I received some funding from PRS Foundation, allowing me to bring more artists (Debbie Armour on vocals, Elinor Rowlands on spoken word and Nick Jonah Davis on guitar). Where possibly, these collaborations were also improvised, in the moment and left a little raw.
The funding also allowed me to create an accompanying film ‘Widdershins & Deosil.’ Shot with filmmaker Benjamin Wigley on 16mm film in Derbyshire, it is an abstract story of magic and puppetry using elements of the album as soundtrack.» - Ben McElroy

The Great Dismal, NOTHING’s new full-length album explores existentialist themes of isolation, extinction, and human behavior in the face of 2020’s vast wasteland. Closing in on the band’s ten-year mark, frontman Domenic Palermo finds himself stringing together songs of misanthropic tales of Philadelphia with a refined and refreshed take on NOTHING's classic sound. “The Great Dismal refers to a swamp, a brilliant natural trap where survival is custom fit to its inhabitants,” Palermo states. “The nature of its beautiful, but taxing environment and harsh conditions can’t ever really be shaken or forgotten too easily.” The ever progressive NOTHING keep true to their chaotic outlook on life, keeping a keen eye to avoid repetition. With a radical cast of talented contributors such as harpist Mary Lattimore, classical musician Shelley Weiss, and singer/songwriter/producer Alex G., The Great Dismal showcases yet another essential side of the band’s trademark American Post-Shoegaze.

Team TD take a break from re-scoring Colin McCrae Rally to pay our own oddball homage to some of our DJ deities in the form of Talking Drums Volume 8.
Keeping things diverse-yet-disco, this little mover grooves through Muzic Box pump, Lofty symphonics and a Ku-curveball with a smile on its face and a pep in its step.

The A-side erupts in a flash of sexy Euro-NRG, twisted and lifted to give any sweatbox a massive Hardy-on. Sequencers throb, swell and burst, horns wail and not one, but two, killer basslines blast the floor with erogenous urgency. Chuck in a coquettish vocal, delay madness and a fist pumping breakdown and you've got pure peak-time play folks.

The B1 belongs to the sumptuous strings, loose funk and live disco strut of 'Too Hot'. Low slung, low tempo but plenty punchy, this classy cut builds and builds through Merc-y repetition before blooming a fully fledged groover. Taut funk breaks sit beneath a floor-filling vocal and twinkling Rhodes, the wah guitar works overtime, and it all adds up to take the dance floor temperature sky high. Enjoy on a hi-fi sound system with plenty of spiked punch.

The curtain call comes via the alfresco flamenco-frenzy of Ronseal-approved 'Maximum Balearic Dancer', which does exactly what it says on the tin. The TD troupe takes a tiny snippet of Swiss fusion and fleshes it out into the fully fledged floor-filler it always deserved to be. Blessed with a buoyant bassline and balmy mood, this beauty sways along through some weird but wonderful synth riffs, holding you close for that soul-soaring piano solo.
Sometimes you gotta wake up on a beach naked.

Limited Press - Numbered Insert - Drum Fun Guaranteed. .

Hermon Mehari and Tony Tixier first met in 2010, in their early twenties, in a club on Paris's Rue des Lombards for a concert with saxophonist Rodolphe Lauretta. Over the next decade, the two musicians took opposite paths, while continuing to collaborate on two continents. The American trumpeter moved to France to discover European culture and the world cultures that coexist there, while the Parisian pianist of Martinican origin spent several years in the USA, immersing himself in the roots of jazz and Afro-American music.



In June 2024, the two musicians, who had been working for fifteen years on numerous albums and collaborations, and whose musical understanding had continued to be forged in clubs, festivals, and on recordings, met again for a duet at the TOC-TOC festival in the Puisaye region, where Antoine Rajon was a collaborator. Enthusiastic about the idea, the artistic director of the KOMOS label invited them back to his home in this corner of Burgundy to record this Fender Rhodes/trumpet formula. He called on sound engineer Christian Hierro, who traveled with his mobile studio for the album recording, then mixed and produced the master in his studio in Lyon, using the best analog equipment and his expert ear.



At dusk on November 12, 2024, the duo played eight tracks in a single, direct take on a 33-minute magnetic tape.



Four unusual cover versions were carefully chosen. "Maimoun" is a composition emblematic of pianist Stanley Cowell's style, also recorded by Marion Brown. George Duke's "The Black Messiah" was captured live by Cannonball Adderley's band on an album of the same name but has never been released as a studio version. "Hello To The Wind" was created by Bobby Hutcherson in 1969, sung by Eugene McDaniels. Finally, "Laini," dedicated by the great Martinican pianist Marius Cultier to one of his daughters, is a mazurka dear to Tony's heart.



Each of the musicians also contributed a composition: Hermon with "This Is Our Fantasy," written especially for the session, and Tony with "Poem For The Oppressed," a moving composition with an explicit title. Lastly, the duo improvised two tracks, without repetition, in mutual symbiosis and echo.

SOUL SONG captures a moment without enhancement, transformation, or additives, far removed from contemporary virtual technologies.

Robson Ponte isn't just anybody. He is the namesake of Reinhard Voigt's first Kompakt 12", one of the label's first big hits. Timeless, cool and unforgettable, the way this snotty, dry football field beat pushes you forward, over it, this constant, almost stoic, mantra-like rap repetition - Robson Ponte, Robson Ponte,...

That was a good 25 years ago. So it's high time to celebrate a bicycle kick with a fitting run to the goal. None other than FC Kompakt centre-forward Juergen Paape has been hired for the remix return match. In the first few minutes of the match, Paape scores with two straight disco-techno crosses! Team captain Reinhard Voigt himself seamlessly follows in the footsteps of the original - dressed in a new, stylish black, white and red sound jersey, he keeps the ball in play with aplomb. From the stands, guest of honour Thore Pfeiffer comments on a hymn-like, sacred ambient lament with an appropriate timbre.

Including art print of the sleeve artwork by Mareena von Cube

Robson Ponte ist ja nicht irgendwer. Und schon gar nicht nur irgendein ehemaliger Spitzenspieler von Bayer Leverkusen, sondern der Namensgeber der ersten Kompakt-Maxi von Reinhard Voigt - einer der frühen, großen Hits des Labels. Zeitlos, cool und unvergesslich, wie dieser rotzig-trockene Bolzplatz-Beat nach vorne schiebt - darüber diese stete, fast stoisch mantrahaft gerappte Wiederholung - Robson Ponte, Robson Ponte,...

Gut 25 Jahre ist das nun her. Höchste Zeit also für einen Jubiläums-Fallrückzieher mit angemessenem Zug zum Tor. Kein Geringerer als FC-Kompakt-Mittelstürmer Jürgen Paape wurde für das Remix-Rückspiel verpflichtet. Der wirft sich gleich voll rein und versenkt schon in den ersten paar Minuten zwei geradlinige Disko-Techno- und eine gedribbelte Schaffel-Flanke aus 25 Metern ins Tor. Mannschaftskapitän Reinhard Voigt selbst knüpft nahtlos an das Original an - verpackt in ein neues, schickes Sound-Trikot in schwarz-weiss-rot, hält er mit souveräner Sicherheit den Ball im Spiel. Von der Tribüne aus kommentiert Ehrengast Thore Pfeiffer mit passendem Timbre ein hymnisch-sakrales Ambient-Lamento.

The debut album from CEM, 'FORMA' was developed as a soundtrack to Mauro Ventura’s series of "action painting performances" and uses various bell sounds (cowbells, doorbells, Shinto bells, singing bowls) to pick out anxious giallo sequences and heaving Dadaist formations.

CEM's best known for pneumatic DJ sets that have propped up Berlin's queer underground for a decade at this point, but don't expect to find any vaped darkroom tek on 'FORMA'. Each of the six compositions were commissioned for Ventura’s performative installation at Volksbühne in 2022, and CEM opted to represent the piece's themes of labor and repetition by sampling an arsenal of bells and metal objects that anchor his varying widescreen vignettes. 'The Calling' is a relatively subtle introduction, establishing the space with double bass drones and ratcheting digitally altered chimes - it's 'Bells Corrupt' that cements CEM's concept more righteously, harking back to Goblin's iconic 'Suspiria' score without pastiching any of its Italo-prog themes. Cycling ritualistic bell loops with squashed, industrial-strength thuds and granulised laptop belches, CEM silhouettes the tension and the vivid color of Argento's film, chrome plating the result.

'An Industrial Satire' is even more convincing; this one takes its cues from legendary German sound artist Limpe Fuchs, and the first part integrates scraped, alien resonances with CEM's loping industrial rhythms and squelchy EBM bassline. The real shift occurs in the second part, when CEM's choppy electroacoustic minimalism falls away to unlock his rolling hand drum performance, that he matches with a ghaita sample lifted from the Master Musicians of Joujouka's 1971 album with Brian Jones. With the future-facing deconstructions a memory, 'Statue Garden' beds reedy organ drones in eerie gallery ambiance, and closer 'The New Sincerity Test' finds Lithuanian performance artist Gertrūda Gilytė skewering the wellness industrial complex over nauseous subsonic oscillations and scratchy noise.

ANAN is a project born from the musical inspiration of DJs Roberto Agosta and Massimo Napoli (Galathea). The name ANAN comes simply from the repetition of the initials of their surnames. Room, their new album, refers to the space in Catania, Sicily, where the two artists create their music.
Room is a mature and intense album that draws inspiration from the two composers' favourite musical genres: jazz, 70s psychedelia, afrobeat, cumbia and soul. The ethereal sound of the album draws the listener into a melting pot of these musical styles that blend perfectly together, making the album versatile and innovative. Valuable arranger and performer Salvo Bruno ‘Dub’ masterfully colours and enriches the deep melodies of the recordings, as if it were a live session coordinated and directed by the two DJs on a super cinematic journey.

Here comes a very special production from East Germany of the early 70s!
One of the TOP Soul-Jazz & Beat combos in the country led by bassist and singer HORST KRÜGER,
recorded two previously unreleased, outrageously good titles here in the newly formed septet format.
"Ich will die Zeit nicht bereuen" is probably by far one of the most crispy produced German-language soul beat numbers that existed in the GDR at that time! From the pen of Ralf Petersen, the then head of Berliner Rundfunk personally, no pure high-class hit was recorded here, but hard-hitting, rocking beat.
It was not without reason that the choice of the head of broadcasting fell on the recently formed Horst Krüger Septet, which also gave the contemporary jazzy sound a perfect touch through an intensified brass section from 1970 on.
The title "Sonderbar" is exactly what its title promises, peculiar and extraordinary. A feat that was created as such in 1972. This somewhat sweeter SoulJazz vocal piece had a concrete idea, which composers Dieter Kopf, Horst Krüger and Franz Bartzsch as a musical arranger as well as Jens Gerlach in the musical free spirit of the hippiesque era. A through the stylistic device of Repetito in the text
dominant repetition, which is complicated in the context of the ever-evolving theme about feelings and love Groove of bass, guitar, drums and organ theme is reflected, redefined and constantly found again, simply masterfully. An interlude with a flute solo and a groovy dreamy Hammond organ solo at the end of the title, envelops the verses very contemporary.
Horst Krüger on bass guitar and his wife Gerti Möller with her outstandingly distinctive and powerful voice on the microphone.
A must for every fan of early beat, rock and soul!

How does one approach the morning after a party for the end of the world? This is a question which Mamuthones had to ask themselves, in the wake of their last album for Rocket, 2018's Fear On The Corner. Nonetheless, from the aftermath of this uncertain period has risen the still more flourishing realm of From Word To Flesh - a colourful and multi-faceted creation very much befitting the outsider spirit of Rocket's new Black Hole imprint. “I believe that with this album a circle has been closed” reflects Mamuthones mainman Alessio Gastaldello. “We returned to the atmosphere of the first Mamuthones albums with the skills acquired throughout the journey, with new sounds and with new creative processes. I would say that what remains constant – and at the core of our music – is the obsessive rhythms and the search for a sonic rituality: this is for certain our trademark”. This is clear right from the curtain raiser 'Burn From Inside', which beams the emotive approach of the band through the shamanic prism of Coil's Ape Of Naples. From there, hypnotic repetition marries to abstract abrasion and mournful laments with equal finesse, as redolent of the spiritual zest of Popol Vuh and Ash Ra Tempel as the gnostic folk of Six Organs Of Admittance. Elsewhere, 'A Symmetry Of Faith' summons a union of post-punk and psychically charged folk aligned with the recent work of Bristol's Beak. The Sardinian ritual of the Mamuthones – in which sinister masked figures weighed down with cattle bells conduct a ceremonial procession to ward off evil forces - has gone on for some two thousand years, and it may be that these ghoulish avatars are engaged in a celebration of the endless cycles of death and rebirth, fortifying spirits for a new epoch. Amidst the chaos and tumult of the 2020s, the band of this name has undergone just such a change themselves, and ‘From Word To Flesh’ is the fruit of their struggle. As Alessio says “With this album I think the Mamuthones have never been so unmediated, so naked: all masks gone”

On Katelyn Clark and Mitch Renaud's »Ouroboros,« astronomical and astrological phenomena, concepts and symbols such as the Great Year or the Eternal Return serve as the starting points for sonic explorations and experimentations. Focusing on a uniquely tempered range of frequencies, from low-enddrone rumbles to airy pipe swirls, the duo develops a minimalist and highly evocative sonic universe on their debut album for Hallow Ground.

Working as composers, improvisers and curators in Canada's vibrant experimental and early music scenes, Clark and Renaud began developing »Ouroboros« through extensive improvisation with a reduced setup. Clark, who has worked extensively with historical keyboards since her studies in Amsterdam and Siena, played a small pipe organ modeled after a 14th-century instrument while Renaud brought a modular synthesizer and his interest in feedback systems to the collaboration. Later, the duo further refined their artistic dialog and the sonic interactions of the two instruments through the shared space of a two day recording session in Vancouver. Subtle crackling, acoustic beating and other (psycho-)acoustic effects in five pieces document this encounter, giving the music a profound physicality while hinting at the bodily presence of the two collaborators.

Just as the cyclicality of natural phenomena or the repetition of planetary movements is both a scientific fact and of the cultural imaginary, the sound worlds of »Ouroboros« are fundamentally rooted in time and space while transgressing the idea of a »here and now« through their conceptual links to geological and planetary time. The interplay of portative organ and modular synthesizer, which merge fluidly and in ever-changing ways, leads to a kind of circularity, a timelessness, a no-time. At the same time, the movements and subtle changes undermine the idea of repetition in the negative sense. After all, the Eternal Return, as Gilles Deleuze writes in regard to Nietzsche, is not the return of the same but a repetition of repetition. The only constant is change, the production of new intensities, of new forms of life – and of new frequencies.

If the jazz of François Tusques is “free”, his spirit is even more so: having recorded Free Jazz with other like-minded Frenchmen (Michel Portal, François Jeanneau, Bernard Vitet, Beb Guérin and Charles Saudrais), the pianist had covered a lot of ground, with Barney Wilen (Le Nouveau Jazz) or even solo (Piano Dazibao and Dazibao N°2), so as not to repeat himself…

In 1971 he founded the Inter Communal Free Dance Music Orchestra which, as the notes the this album stated, “is an interpretation of a music which synthesizes the different communities living and working in France.” In 1976, on the first album (L’Inter Communal) we can already hear Tusques playing without borders in the company of Carlos Andreu (vocals), Michel Marre (trumpet and saxophone), Jo Maka (saxophone) and Ramadolf (trombone). It is a meeting between jazz and music from Catalonia, Occitanie and Africa. So far so good, but what about Brittany, that, Tusques knows “by heart”? Having lived for a long time in Nantes, he would expand his ‘brittanitude’ on the canal linking the city to Brest by playing with, for example the Diaouled-Ar-Menez. With these “devils from the mountain” who, under the baton of Yann Goasdoué, worked throughout the 1970s on the renewal of music from Brittany, Tusques met, notably, Tanguy Ledoré and invited him one day, with trois bombards and some bagpipes (Jean-Louis Le Vallegant, Gaby Kerdoncuff and Philippe Lestrat), to join the ranks of the Intercommunal. And so they set of towards a new music from Brittany, as the title states; Vers une Musique bretonne nouvelle!

With percussion from Samuel Ateba and Kilikus, the association launches the ‘bombardier’: the repetitions and dissonance of the different members all serve a common cause however: the dance, which is always the reason for the party. This sets a whole universe spinning, which can bring to mind Chris McGregor’s Brotherhood of Breath (“La rencontre”) when not taking on board waltz, swing, blues and gavotta or even revealing mysteries like those of Gurdjieff (“Les racines de la montagne” or “Le cheval” sung by Andreu). Only one thing to say to this Brotherhood Of Breizh: Mersi!

Playing with a Different Sex was the debut album by seminal post-punk band Au Pairs, released in 1981.

Described retrospectively by AllMusic as ‘one of the great post-punk records’, a review by Record Mirror on its release said the band’s ‘critique of all forms of possession and sexual stereotyping assumes a devastating power’. Themes include sexual politics and the torture of women imprisoned in Northern Ireland during The Troubles of the 1970s, as well as a stunning cover of David Bowie’s ‘Repetition’ about domestic violence. It peaked at No. 33 in the UK, and features the single ‘It's Obvious’, which reached No. 37 on the US Club Play Singles chart. Playing with a Different Sex is available as a numbered limited edition of 750 copies on turquoise coloured vinyl and contains an insert.

ANAN is a project born from the musical inspiration of DJs Roberto Agosta and Massimo Napoli (Galathea). The name ANAN comes simply from the repetition of the initials of their surnames.

Their new single ‘Naif’ blends African musical roots with a European groove and celebrates the cultural fusion of modern times and explores sounds that transcend borders. Imagine listening to Fatoumata Diawara or Ali Farka Touré meeting St. Germain or Bonobo

This track opens with a pulsating rhythm, featuring traditional instruments, percussion, and the vocal performance of Kadi Koulibaly from Burkina Faso.

Koulibaly manages to convey a sense of joy and vitality, evoking soundscapes rich with texture and dynamic motion. The melody is skilfully combined with electronic and jazz elements, creating an aural experience that invites you to dance. In short ‘Naif’ is a celebration of cultural fusion, an invitation to indulge in rhythm and explore sounds that transcend boundaries.

The Complete Film Music Composed by Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe - 2xLP 180 Gram Colored Vinyl - Old-Style Tip-On Gatefold Jackets with Satin Coating and a Built-In Booklet Page - Composer Liner Notes - 12 Page Art Gallery Exhibit Catalogue // In partnership with Universal Pictures, Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM) and Monkeypaw Productions, Waxwork Records is thrilled to present CANDYMAN Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe. Directed by Nia DaCosta (next year's The Marvels) from a screenplay by Oscarr winner Jordan Peele, Win Rosenfeld and DaCosta, Candyman, currently in theaters nationwide, is a fresh take on the blood-chilling urban legend and a contemporary incarnation of the 1992 cult horror classic. About Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe: Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe (b.1975) is an artist, curator and composer who works primarily with, but not limited to, voice and modular synthesizer for sound in the realm of spontaneous music. Along with analog video synthesis works, he has brought forth an A/V proposal that has been a focus of live performance and installation / exhibition. The marriage of synthesis and the voice has allowed for a heightened physicality in the way of ecstatic music, both in a live setting and recorded. The sensitivity of analogue modular synthesis echoes the organic nature of vocal expression, which in this case is meant to put forth a trancelike state. Lowe's works on paper tend towards human relations to the natural/magical world and the repetition of motifs. The deluxe 2xLP vinyl release features 180-gram colored vinyl, old-style tip-on gatefold jackets with satin coating and a built-in booklet page, liner notes by composer Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, a 12-page art gallery exhibition catalogue, artwork by Sherwin Ovid and Julian Williams and puppetry art by Manual Cinema.

Universe Room is the eighteenth Guided By Voices album in ten years and packs a vast mix of energy levels and sounds into seventeen diverse tracks in less than forty minutes. The new record ventures into truly surprising territory, where barely any song segments and choruses are revisited and fidelity daringly shifts between lo-fi and hi-fi.

“I wanted to create, hopefully, an experience, kind of a wild ride, where the listener would want to hear it multiple times in order to grasp all the sections and fields of sound to discover something new with each listen,” says Robert Pollard. “I trimmed down the songs so that there wasn’t a lot of repetition, so you get a lot of sections that happen only once or twice.”

Universe Room embodies a realm of new horizons for Guided By Voices, who continue to redefine and expand as they blast off to unpredictable worlds.

Mike Parker returns to Samurai Music to apply his steely, rigorous approach to another EP navigating the 170BPM zone. As a widely celebrated pioneer of ice-cold wormhole techno, Parker finds profound depth in alien textures and ruthless repetition which he ably twists to the drum & bass template.

The A side of Envenomations leaps forward with urgent jump-up grooves as the driver for lean, rolling workouts. With his minimalist tendencies, 'Voc-1 Robot' and 'Ee-Yo' strike a cool and deadly mood similar to classic mid-90s Krust, swapping jazzy samples for atonal synthesis.

Parker was last spotted experimenting with this techno-D&B crossover on 2023's Sabre-Tooth, but the keen-eared may have already detected his interest in half-time on the Stinging Insects / Stages Of Metal digital single he dropped on his own Geophone label back in 2020. Both tracks make a welcome arrival on wax to form the B side of this release, channelling Parker's signature palette into more spacious surroundings.

Backed up by an additional pair of digital-only tracks, Envenomations is another standout exercise in the fertile synergy between techno and drum & bass, delivered by a true auteur with an unmistakable sound.

David Allred is a prolific composer and producer based in Portland, Oregon. His new album The Beautiful World captures an enriched, realised understanding of why he composes in the first place. Dedicated to the expression of existential themes such as death, grief, longing and loss, the album’s core theme centres around the suicide of a young girl Lauren, who was a family friend to Allred. For as long as he could remember, Allred always created music out of a kind of dissociative state which he finds alluringly easy to lapse into. A repetition of a motif is usually where he begins composing. But unlike his previous works, The Beautiful World firmly has one foot in reality and is deeply intertwined with Allred’s relationships, past and present. Through his correspondence with Erased Tapes label head and the album’s producer, Robert Raths, over the past year, he came to realise that everyone has a Lauren in a way – someone they’d lost. Through writing to Raths, Allred was able to draw out this thread from the work and position it more clearly as the central concept to this work. The music doesn’t reflect the chaos of trauma, instead it has a therapeutic quality. It was through this dialogue that Allred was able to create what may be his most cohesive body of work to date. The 11 track album unfolds around Oh Lauren, providing the core of the album’s sentiment – how grief returns to us throughout life over and over. Embedded more than halfway through the album, Allred allows listeners to cohabit a meditative space through ambient textures, drones and ballads echoing the vocal sincerity of Arthur Russell, Daniel Johnston and the hypnotic storytelling of Robert Ashley. To truly reckon with The Beautiful World’s emotional position, listeners must understand the importance of the figure of Lauren, and the significance she has had throughout Allred’s life. Lauren’s suicide as a child provided the catalyst for Allred’s lifelong grief. But it was death anxiety and grief itself which provided Allred a link to a universal relationship that people have with each other and the world they live in. Impermanence and loss are the driving force behind all of our connections. The trance-like nature of the album perhaps comes from David Allred’s time sense – particularly when it comes to memory and trauma. Time becomes non-linear rather than a straight line – where one can repeat or return to the same themes but older and in a different frame of mind. Grief continues to manifest itself in life and despite personal growth, there will always be moments where the same feeling will manifest itself again. The album encourages listeners to sit with the concept of grief, and Allred is hopeful they can find comfort and learn to process it in a healing way. The Beautiful World is therefore heavily influenced by Allred’s work in therapy, particularly his relationship to writing music. In the past, Allred would be composing music as a means to dissociate from his life, but the album sees him engaging and connecting more authentically than ever with others and himself. Despite his prolific previous works being made in the company of others, Allred needed to step back from the scenes that he’s worked in to discover what he really wanted to create. Allred concludes: “In the power of love, curiosity, humour, and reconciliation, we give you The Beautiful World.”

Alkisah Versi Hitam is a radical deconstruction and reimagination of Indonesian duo Senyawa's most recent album Alkisah by Hamburg's Marc Richter aka Black To Comm. The original album was released to critical acclaim in February of this year as a decentralized release on a multitude of labels from all corners of the world, Germany’s Dekorder being one of them. Richter is now completely reinventing the original album from scratch by doing an almost Teo Macero-level production job here, cutting up the originals and (re)constructing new material from scratch.

Arcane chants and vocal cut-ups, fierce freeform percussion, grimy No Wave collage, monochrome drones exploding into multicolour streams, unearthly psychedelic Noise and sheer sonic mayhem, warped discordant rhythms between moments of calming beauty - it's never easy to digest but the outcome is both ecstatic and transcendental - never sounding anything less than a fully formed singular album.

A special cassette version of the album will be released by Jordanian label Drowned By Locals.

BLACK TO COMM is the moniker of Hamburg composer/musician Marc Richter who is creating intricate multi-layered collage based works for labels like Thrill Jockey, Type and Dekorder. His 2019 album "Seven Horses For Seven Kings" revealed an increasingly angry, transcendental and fearless approach, attaining new levels of urgency through noise, volume, rhythm, repetition, atonality and beauty.

Jogjakarta’s SENYAWA embody the aural elements of traditional Indonesian music whilst exploring the framework of experimental music practice, pushing the boundaries of both traditions. Their music strikes a perfect balance between their avant-garde influences and cultural heritage to create truly contemporary Indonesian new music. Their sound is comprised of Rully Shabara’s deft extended vocal techniques punctuating the frenetic sounds of instrument builder, Wukir Suryadi’s modern-primitive instrumentation. Inventions like his handcrafted ‘Bamboo Spear’; a thick stem of bamboo strung up with percussive strips of the animal skin along side steel strings. Amplified it fuses elements of traditional Indonesian instrumentation with garage guitar distortion. Sonically dynamic, the instrument can be rhythmically percussive on one side whilst being melodically bowed and plucked on the other.

They have collaborated and performed with many notable musicians such as Stephen O'Malley of Sunn o))), Otomo Yoshide, KK Null, Keiji Haino, Rabih Beiani, Trevor Dunn, Greg Fox, Arrington De Dionysus, Melt Banana, Damo Suzuki and Oren Ambarchi.