Cerca:sirens of light

Through his tracks, Jumo explores nostalgia and memory, from phili to memory, blending memories of youth and fleeting sensations. Tgthr encourages living the moment, while lula unfolds like a raw, cinematic road movie. The synthetic voices of sirens create a hypnotic theme, reflecting free souls suspended between a desire to escape and the fear of falling back. Euphoria tackles the madness of man's race to innovate and his indifference to the world, mixing mechanical urgency and emerging awareness. Each track plays with contrasts; melancholy and euphoria, darkness and light; combining synthesizers, persistent bass, and saturated textures. Together, they form a sonic journey where dancing becomes an act of memory and emotional survival.

You may be excused if, seeing the dazzling China Moses on stage, online, or on-air, you thought that she, fabulous and French, an orchestra trailing her, with one of those light-up-a-room smiles you only hear about in myth, was someone who might only be singing cheery songs about her glamorous musical life. Not so. It’s complicated… vibrates with the joy, wistfulness, ambivalence, and wisdom of a woman who’s been on many journeys, down many paths, and landed here, in your ears, on purpose, with something to say.

Through these songs, China captures the many hues of grown Black womandom: her choices, her regrets; her place in society as both citizen and observer. Her voice is girlish and playful; gritty and growly; truly prismatic, as Anthony Peyton Young’s cover art suggests, to reflect the many lives she’s lived. And she does all this with vulnerability, a quality that transcends and supersedes genre, taste, or ability. Of all the tools a singer-songwriter could possess, it might be the most important one. Though there is bravado here (“I can be happy”, the song and the video, are the best example), this is an album that taps into the full, resplendent spectrum of human experience, its many facets hewn into these 10 gems before you.

It’s complicated… and it’s complex. How could it be anything else?

— Kyla Marshell

Based in Rennes and founder of the Vives label in 2020, Weever has been exploring the interplay of light and shadow for over 10 years, crafting abstract soundscapes and textured sonic tunnels of unparalleled musical breadth. He elegantly blends industrial and baroque sounds to construct sonic cathedrals. His music is both utterly raw and meticulously crafted.

L’âge de la Galère :

started this EP in 2020. At the time, I had just finished my studies, it was a pretty difficult period and I had made a track, or rather a melody, that I thought was amazing. I held onto it all these years without ever releasing it. 2020 was a tough year overall. The big question was: What am I going to do with my life? Hence the title L’âge de la Galère

The title really started to make sense when I began putting tracks together for Micheal. Around that time, I was reading Those of 1914 by Maurice Genevoix. For those who don’t know it: it’s written as a journal and tells the story of the author and his fellow soldiers in the trenches during World War I.

I’ve always been passionate about the two World Wars, I watch every film, old and new, I listen to the soundtracks, and so on. Same with period films, especially medieval ones. I love drawing inspiration from them.

So naturally, I imagine and create around that. It comes easily because it’s always been my universe. And when I make music, those kinds of images inevitably come out, even subconsciously.

So I created and told an audio story through my 6 tracks.

“It’s 1914. The story of many men who, upon hearing the sound of the bells, are met with the announcement of a war like no other. Most of them are young, some very young, and they are drafted into the French and German armies. They have no military experience, and the first battles are so violent that many won’t make it back. Very few will earn the glory they deserve.

The conditions are appalling, everything is in short supply, and the men are exhausted. Still, they must hold on.
Leaving carelessly from beneath their mothers’ skirts, too few returned. Many were left traumatized, and an entire generation was forever changed.”

Second release from Hørd following the Re-Isuuse of 'Focus on Light'
200 copies pressed

All songs written, performed, recorded and produced by Hørd. Originally released by Giallo Disco, 2016. Re-mastered by Alain Paul 2024. Artwork by Elzo Durt.

Includes unlimited streaming of Atropos via the free Bandcamp app,
plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. s

Kinn turns the Post-Rock continuum inside out with his sophomore album, Dogtooth.

Shifting focus between his present self and his misled teenage years, 'Dogtooth' sees London born and raised sound art graduate Fred Lomas contemplate the vulnerability of youth, addiction and suicide as Kinn. Unabashed in their creative ambition, Kinn's tongue-in-cheek 'dread-voyeurism' is underpinned by a palpably sincere vulnerability that seeps through their dynamic and rewardingly dense records.

An insight into Fred's formative years can be unraveled from his nickname "Dread", originally given to him by his parents. Growing up in North London as a 'constantly out of the house' youth, Fred only had eyes on any counterculture he could find to defy the city's notorious empty capitalist centric mainstream culture, skateboarding, graffiti, and terrible punk bands which would only last 1-3 rehearsals (max). As a teenager he experienced the notorious 2011 Tottenham riots, which is often referenced in the artist's output and greatly informed their sensibilities. Barely an adult, he was confronted first hand with concepts of constant hostility and corruption which were seemingly welded to his surroundings, corruption formed by high rises and international political scandals taking place only a short journey away.

Even today, Dogtooth reflects on this contrast of community and anger and surmises it to be part and parcel of modern metropolitan life, looking to peel away the bad looking for meaning, comfort and ways of goofing off amidst oppressive forces, sirens and snake oil salesmen everywhere.

The new album by the collective that for
over 25 years has been among the most
representative names of the Italian dance
and electronic scene worldwide.
“BLOOOM”, this is the title of the new release,
will be available in all traditional stores and
on digital platforms starting January 16.
Set against the soundscapes that have become
the Planet Funk trademark, the lyrics by Dan
Black attempt to give voice to a fragile and
contradictory condition of our time: an
intensified sensitivity that, instead of
turning into openness and connection, often
becomes emotional overload. A generation
constantly overwhelmed by excessive stimuli,
relentless information, anxieties, and fears,
called upon to find its way in a world thaoffers neither pauses nor silence. In this paradox, sensitivity is no longer just a natural gift, but
a daily effort: staying open and receptive without being overwhelmed, trying to preserve a human and
vulnerable gaze in order, despite everything, to fully appreciate life and the present moment.
The single’s artwork—like that of the album—curated by Nationhood, visually conveys this tension: the
distant sirens of a city that amplifies feelings of disorientation and loneliness even when we are
surrounded by thousands of people.
“BLOOOM”, preceded by the single “FEEL EVERYTHING”, arrives at the end of an intense, creative year
full of music, which saw Alex Neri (DJ, keyboards, synthesizers), Marco Baroni (keyboards, piano,
programming), Dan Black (vocals and guitar), and Alex Uhlmann (vocals and guitar) engaged between
studio work, collaborations, and live performances in Italy and abroad. A journey that today
transforms into new energy, into an even more open vision oriented toward the future.
Exactly one year ago, PLANET FUNK released “Nights in White Satin”, a single that reached the top
positions of the radio charts and launched a season rich in concerts and DJ sets in Italy and around
the world. The subsequent “I Get a Rush”, the collaboration with Alfa and Manu Chao on the remix of
their hit “A me mi piace”, and the track “È Naturale” together with Francesca Michielin, confirmed
Planet Funk’s ability to renew themselves and engage with different musical worlds while always
remaining true to their own identity.
Throughout this journey, music has inevitably intertwined with life. The memory of Sergio Della Monica
and Domenico “Gigi” Canu, pillars and founding souls of the PLANET FUNK project, is a living part of
this new chapter. Their vision, creative spirit, and way of understanding music continue to be a
constant guide, a deep root from which new ideas and new directions can grow.
“BLOOOM” is also this: a personal and artistic blossoming that, starting from the legacy left by
Sergio and Gigi, transforms into a living process of growth, metamorphosis, and discovery. An album
that does not look back with nostalgia, but forward with awareness, momentum, and a desire for
renewal.
Founded in 1999, for over 25 years PLANET FUNK have represented one of the most important, solid, and
influential realities in the international electronic music scene. Born from the meeting of Souled
Out! (Domenico “GG” Canu and Sergio Della Monica) and Kamasutra (Marco Baroni and Alex Neri), and
following their debut with “Non Zero Sumness” in 2002 (a gold record and a turning point for the
band), PLANET FUNK have managed to reinvent themselves over time while maintaining a unique sonic
identity. This has led them to collaborate with internationally renowned artists, deliver iconic
performances around the world, create soundtracks and international advertising campaigns, and
continue to demonstrate constant creative vitality

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”

A few weeks ago, Brigade Loco officially announced that they will release their third album in the coming months. The band from Gipuzkoa, with seven years of trajectory, will release their new full-length under the title"Bide baten esanahia" ("The meaning of a road"). This new album will finally be released in February 2025. As usual, the album has been recorded at the Sound of Sirens studio in Iruña under the supervision of technician Julen Urzaiz. This album is a firm step forward for a band that wants to evolve and write its own trajectory without repeating chapters previously made. In view of this, the band says they are very excited about the project. It has been more than a year of work and effort before this ambitious project sees the light of day, and they are looking forward to sharing their new tunes with their audience. Brigade Loco are about to start a very important episode in their career. An episode with interesting paragraphs, plotsand characters. Stay tuned.

A few weeks ago, Brigade Loco officially announced that they will release their third album in the coming months. The band from Gipuzkoa, with seven years of trajectory, will release their new full-length under the title"Bide baten esanahia" ("The meaning of a road"). This new album will finally be released in February 2025. As usual, the album has been recorded at the Sound of Sirens studio in Iruña under the supervision of technician Julen Urzaiz. This album is a firm step forward for a band that wants to evolve and write its own trajectory without repeating chapters previously made. In view of this, the band says they are very excited about the project. It has been more than a year of work and effort before this ambitious project sees the light of day, and they are looking forward to sharing their new tunes with their audience. Brigade Loco are about to start a very important episode in their career. An episode with interesting paragraphs, plotsand characters. Stay tuned.

Pacific Rhythm returns with a heady new offering entitled the “Deep Hows EP" from NYC based Producer and DJ, Arsenii under his Bliss Street Queens moniker. The EP effortlessly trips through the cosmic and psychedelic sounds of the hazy and hopeful 1990's in a refreshing and modern style, all while shining a light on Arsenii’s undeniable ear for rhythm, energy, and feeling on the dance floor.

This one can carry you from the chill-out room to the main stage and is an essential pick-up for all of the Interesting Audio enthusiasts out there looking for machine funk of the highest caliber!

Continuing our quest to get all of the classic early AMT albums released on vinyl, we turn to 2004’s 'Mantra Of Love’, and with the help of Makoto Kawabata’s studio wizardry, we’ve made it possible.

This latest instalment in the ‘Acid Mothers Temple Vinyl Archives - First Time On Vinyl’ series (as with the three previous SOLD OUT releases in the series) have all been meticulously put together with the help of Makoto Kawabata with the original CD artwork recreated for these vinyl editions from archive photos stored in the vaults at the Acid Mothers Temple in Osaka, Japan and the original audio remastered by James Plotkin.

Here’s what others had to say upon it’s original CD only release back in 2004 …

“Acid Mothers are strong folk. You'd think they'd tire quickly, all tucked away on their island, strewn about on tree roots while baking their lungs and throats to a knotty green tinge. But instead of waltzing through life like hippies, they manage to not only tour and put out records every year, but also to fill those albums with 30-minute jams and assorted freakouts. And while evil jam bands would fill that space with guitar work taken from the Classic Rock Manual of Clichés, Makoto Kawabata and company assault listeners with frighteningly dense walls of white noise, psychedelic swirl effects and, yes, even guitar solos-- albeit ones that are more Merzbow or Keiji Haino than Gary Rossington. Truly, AMT's endurance and threshold for cosmic lashings are both worthy of admiration.

But how much AMT can you take in one sitting? If there's anything this band has taught us-- via records such as 2002's Electric Heavyland and the ferocious Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso U.F.O-- it's that they're not afraid to reach for the upper regions of consciousness. On Mantra of Love, they offer two titles over the course of one hour, never faltering along the way, and it's as if we listeners are just brief visitors passing through a never-ending, spontaneous group trip. For all I know, Kawabata has hundreds of hours of this stuff on his hard drive-- at any single moment, this record's sheer volume of sound is a clamor to behold. However, if you aren't dialed into that the particular space AMT inhabits (for me, it's the mystical fire-baptism standby), you might not hear their glorious noise for all the, well, glorious noise.

"La Le Lo" begins as a lengthy psychedelic ballad sung by Cotton Casino (who doubles on "beer & cigarettes"), who is accompanied by her own ghostly backing vocals. The band is playing a mantra as Casino waxes earth-mother stylings to the moon. The serenity is broken by a patented AMT rave led by Kawabata's electric sitar (!) solo. Ace rhythm section Tsuyama Atsushi ("monster bass") and Koizumi Hajime hold things together, as does the generally decent recording quality (not a given for these guys), but the real money is in effects-- lots and lots effects. Much like France's Richard Pinhas or AMT's countrymen in Les Rallizes Denudes and High Rise, the band understands the collaborative power of solo + overdriven Moog sirens and screams. And, also like those artists, Acid Mothers can go on all night if need be. About 25 minutes into this piece, any hell that hadn't already broken loose gets its due, and the band speeds to a fiery climax before winding down into glimmering astro-ambience.

The second track, "L'Ambition dans le Miroir", also begins as a minor ballad featuring Casino's haunting solo vocal. The Mothers set her up with a faux-blues drag and a thick buffer of synth-rays; when Casino actually enters, she fights for airtime with an array of falling stars and cosmic dust. However, this time there is no overwhelming solo to power the comedown. Casino intermittently coos in the background while droning horns keep the auxiliary pixie haze from evaporating. As they showed on In C and La Novia, AMT are more than adept at creating calmer storms-- listeners just have to catch them in the right light. Mantra of Love doesn't necessarily capture the most inspired moments in their canon but as usual with this band's records, it's rarely at a loss for moments of horror or grandeur.”

Acid Mothers Temple & The Melting Paraiso U.F.O. : Cotton Casino - Vocal, Beer & Cigarettes - Tsuyama Atsushi - Monster Bass, Vocal, Cosmic Joker - Higashi Hiroshi - Synthesizer, Dancin' King - Koizumi Hajime - Drums, Percussion, Sleeping Monk - Kawabata Makoto - Guitar, Bouzouki, Electric Sitar, Violin, Hammond Organ, Speed Guru

Wildly acclaimed Grammy-winning artist Flume returns with a
new album, ‘Palaces’, on Transgressive Records.

‘Palaces’ began to take shape when Flume returned to his
native Australia after struggling to write music in Los Angeles at
the beginning of the pandemic. Settling in a coastal town in the
Northern Rivers region of New South Wales, Flume quickly
found the inspiration he needed through reconnecting with the
nature around him - the rolling hills, walking around barefoot,
the green colour the sky turns before a big storm, growing and
eating his own vegetables, the smell of rain.

He and his neighbour and long-time collaborator, the visual
artist Jonathan Zawada, became fascinated by the local wildlife,
in particular the birds, collecting field recordings that ultimately
worked their way in to the album. As Flume continued to forge a
strong connection to his surroundings, the album he wanted to
make started to form, eventually adopting a title to properly
highlight the luxury and magic of the natural world.

‘Palaces’ is his most confident, mature and uncompromising
work to date, a true testament to nurturing the relationships that
make us whole and bring us peace.

The album features a host of vocalists and collaborators, its
cast list spanning new and household names from around the
world - breakout US star Caroline Polachek, British polymath
icon Damon Albarn, Spain’s Vergen Maria, France’s Oklou and
fellow Australian Kučka, who returns following her standout turn
on ‘Skin’.

Deluxe CD including two exclusive bonus tracks in 6-panel
heavyweight board digipack with tube pocket and 8-page
booklet. Matte finish on digipak board with glossy spot UV
finish.

CD digipack with poster insert.

Black 180G double vinyl in widespine jacket with full colour
centre labels and digital download card.

At once a spiritually-charged journey and a shit-kicking party record, American Cream Band comes to Quindi covering all the bases.
American Cream Band was formed by Twin-Cities musician Nathan Nelson around 10 years ago, taking the form of improvised live shows and albums Frankensteined from these sessions into exultant, fully-formed records you can sink your teeth into. The trick with improvised music is to start with intentions, however abstract they might be, and Nelson leads his rolling cast of collaborators into the creative fray with subtle guidance which drives the impulsive musical moment forward.
The band's previous records have manifested on labels like Moon Glyph and Medium Sound, and now Presents arrives in a freewheeling flash of snappy new wave, skronky sax, call and response sass and some krautrock-minded sonic cosmology. The album came together in December 2021, when Nelson took ten musicians to legendary studio Pachyderm in Cannon Falls, Minnesota. Living together, eating together, and with Nelson quietly setting up his low-key magick intentions around Jupiter's planetary frequency and the studio's abundance of elephant statues and carpets, they laid down some drum-heavy sessions that became the building blocks of the record.
'Taste What We Taste' is the perfect example of an exuberant groove pounded on skins as a vessel for a joyous get-down, with the singers and players free to freak out on top. Nelson remains at the centre of the melee, throwing half-sardonic, half-heartfelt calls out for connection. 'Banana' celebrates nonsense and holds down the most serious of beats - a disco-not-disco deadeye dripping in late night sleaze and lysergic potential. On 'Royal Tears', the jagged guitar chops call back to Gang Of Four, while the hot n' heavy sax from Cole Pulice baits James Chance and all the other angular New York un-jazz misfits.
Amongst his other implied intentions for the recordings, Nelson wanted to channel opposites, not least the distinct male-female energies in his vocal sparring with the girls on assistance duties. It wouldn't be right to call them backing singers as they shoot back at his punchy mantras, bringing a certain fierce femininity that tips its hat to The B-52's Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson, not to mention iconic post-punk bands like Au Pairs, Delta 5 and Bush Tetras.
There's space for the dreamier kosmische which has crept into the American Cream oeuvre in the past, as 'Sirens' opens the album up in a swirling pond of rag tag percussion and molten synths. 'Words Would Handcuff Us' cools the whole riotous assembly down in unmoored perfection, a strung-out Bossa nova seance dusted with celestial drips from analogue spaceships.
Equally treading the line between light and dark, conscious and unconscious, the sacred and profane, Presents is a life-affirming, creep-under-the-skin listening experience - a joyously transient chapter in the evolution of American Cream Band.

alphacut sets off into brushy tribal jungle

the early 2010s have been a prosperous era for a lotta fast dance and bass music. dubstep's magic was fading due to brosounds taking over but the idea of some fresh air inbetween drums and basslines was thankfully carried on into the jungles too. not only halftime but also tribal beats grew strong, whether it being in warm dubby or cold darker reincarnations.
speaking of living on, this plate is not only a sequel to that era but also a tribute to the one like morphy, who brought dubby tribal brushy jungle onto alphacut around that time. it light up a spark to head for new territories, its soul is vibing on in 45seven and especially in this new alphacut - post morphem!

rude operator are opening with a minimal dancehall feel, wriggling from 8bar to 8bar, switching tensions with patterns with a slice of footwork dna inside - zero chances to freeze!
rainforest is stepping on with enlightening skanks and mystic basses under a riddim one simply can't escape as well.
paradox effects is not only flipping sides but vibes pretty much too. keeping it tribal and one-seventy but much darker with an amen from the vaults in a bunker-conrete jungle - the raw and free sound of leipzig.
dreadmaul is closing with a masterpiece which could have been executed by the homaged dubbing don himself. moody pads meet distant dub sirens and robotic amen leftovers step up into a hypnotising groove, taking you back down in the woods.

we are happy to be back with a solid round-up package which should never leave your tribal crates again, zooom!

Sonic Behavior by Driftmachine & Ammer is an album exploring the origins of sound, noise, and various music genres. Alongside lyrical declarations of love for noise ("Song To Noise"), the album delves into sonic reflections on how beauty and emotion emerge from mundane vibrations in the air ("The Siren Is A Simple Device"). For the first time, the analog sound researchers of Driftmachine (Andreas Gerth, Florian Zimmer) incorporate spoken language and noise into their sound research. They have collaborated with word and sound artist Andreas Ammer, renowned for his radio plays with Acid Pauli, aka Console ("Spaceman 85"), or FM Einheit ("Radio Inferno," "Symphony of Sirens").

In "The Siren Is A Simple Device," the words are spoken by 81-year-old musician and poet legend Ted Milton (Blurt, Loopspool). Despite its simplicity and obvious ability to produce high volumes, the siren has led a marginal existence as a musical instrument. Yet, it is capable of evoking the most intense emotional states in the listener in the shortest possible time, like almost no other sound-producing mechanism. "Sonic Behavior" capitalizes on this fact. The familiar hypnotic sounds of Driftmachine are accompanied by a siren organ inspired by the revolutionary Russian futurist Arsenij Avranov and built by Andreas Ammer, while the lyrics talk about the simple physical reasons behind the sound chaos that has just been unleashed: A siren ... chops the air into sound.

The core of the album is "Song To Noise," an electro-acoustic mini-symphony about the beauties of noise and all its producers, which is based on a poem by the British poet Deryn Rees-Jones and spoken by the poet herself and Alexander Hacke (Einstürzende Neubauten, Hackedepicciotto). Driftmachine & Ammer develop a soundtrack that is as powerful as it is loud and danceable (which is why the LP also includes a textless version of the composition).

"Sonic Sculpture" is the zenith of the work: a text/music track spoken by Ted Milton, which creates the possibility of a sound sculpture that encompasses the universe: What if one could imagine the infernal sound that encompasses all conceivable harmonies at the same time? A piano does when you throw it down an earthly staircase (the epitome of music is a piano falling down the stairs) through silent space to the next theoretically life-filled, Earth-like planet, Proxima Centauri B. The radio makes it possible. Driftmachine & Ammer tried it. The result will be heard there in 4.24 light-years. On planet Earth, the time has come on May 2, 2024. On this day, Sonic Behavior will be released, a conceptual album by Driftmachine & Ammer exploring sound, its creation, and its power.

Neither Timothy J. Fairplay, nor Norwell are strangers to the Dalmata Daniel family: both of them are trustworthy contributors to DD compilation albums of earlier years, plus Norwell has released his 'ODD' EP and 'Joint Spaceflights' EP back in 2017 and 2019 on the label. So this time, it's a return for Norwell, and a debut for Mr. Fairplay: their DDS09 split EP is here to present 4 tracks full of outer space lights, eerie vibes, mesmerizing beats and cosmic energies.

Timothy J. Fairplay's side A starts with the explicit kicks and ominous basslines of 'Caliber 9'. Slowly and steadily, the laser blasts and relentless drums all add up to define a world of space cadets on the run, where any odd-looking figure can turn out to be a malignant, speedy alien. 'TV Tower' takes us to another planet with an even higher rotation velocity. Fast percussion elements and squished lower frequencies take center stage in this intergalactic episode, but the whistle-like melodies and descending, bubbling robot signals make the journey complete.

Flip to side B, and enter the contemplating, otherworldly atmospheres of Norwell. 'Midnight Rituals' gives you the chills with its breath-like swooshes, grievous sirens and deadly asteroid belts. Yet, there is no need to worry: after an intense ride with your spaceship, eventually you end up in the same spot, where you started: in the stable and steady mid-tempo beats of an expertly-programmed drummachine. The orbital mission comes to an end with 'Natives', a dense and heroic hymn with emotive structures and well-crafted harmonics. The track starts with the bittersweet, lamenting synths of a solo voice, pouring their heart out in the spotlight, all alone on the stage. All of a sudden, a hard-hitting, rhythmic groove commences its last rush of dedicated cadences. It is full of breaks, it is full of 303s, completed with airy echoes and dreamy, light gestures. 'Natives' keeps on building its structure with elegant paces, providing a massive, yet delicate experience of Norwell's defined aesthetics. The track lets the last strokes of its gloomy synths roll out, along with the final round of looping drums, thus putting an end to DDS09.

With Scream If You Don’t Exist, Richie Culver metamorphoses from outsider musician to underground fixture, feeling his way from the fringes towards a growing community of musicians that have gravitated towards his singular sound world. Building upon the stark catharsis of his previous dispatches, on his sophomore album the artist draws from grimdark drone, industrial noise, experimental hip-hop and UK rave to map out a space for himself, caught between genre and discipline. While on his debut, I Was Born By The Sea, Culver took a last glimpse back at his grey, salt-flecked past while struggling towards somewhere brighter, here, he documents the process of finding fresh waters, parsing through the complexity of inhabiting a more open and optimistic place while contending with the weight of his resolve, staring hard won self-acceptance in the face. The album’s title speaks to this creative and emotional work, serving both as the foundational paradox from which the artist’s new discordant sound emerges and as a call to action, a defiant cry in the face of existential angst.

Part of this process involves visiting familiar territory with renewed focus. Macabre opener ‘Hottest Day Of The Year’ signals an unpleasant memory with crow caw, queasy, gas leak ambience and dental drill whir as Culver recalls a life lived in nihilism: “Everything is just something that happened / Reductionism, muscles spasms, a mother’s first contraction.” Yet, on Scream If You Don’t Exist, Culver’s irresistible formula for ragged machine poetry is shot through with palpable urgency. No longer listless and despairing, he finds new intricacies for these compositions, tracing a stark interplay between crushing bass excavations and penetrating vocal clarity, a contrast picked out in the delicate threads of rhythmic pulse suggesting themselves in the blunt pressure and skittering creep of ‘Weakness’, on which Culver offers up vulnerability as a tentative solution to self-described emotional constipation: “Please do / Do take my kindness for weakness / For I am weak / And that is ok.” The amniotic soundscape of ‘YOLO (then u die)’ gives way to depth charge drone and unnerving machinic improvisations, like a noise show heard from deep in the Mariana trench, while on ‘Underground Flower’ the low-end fog lifts to reveal a brighter, colder scene. “Love me for who I could be / Not who I am,” he pleads, tending gently to his own tenacious bud.

Scream If You Don’t Exist gives us a glimpse of this flower in bloom. On the album’s cursed self-help tape title track stuttering loops of off-kilter keys and childlike repetition make light of the very real risk of disappearing all-together, a nervous breakdown rendered as a malfunctioning nursery rhyme. Paranoiac anthem ‘Say 4 Sure’ introduces bit-crushed boom-bap stomp, as though hammered out on a water-logged Game Boy, swarms of loose-wire noise sparking up against guttural grunts and ragged exhalations, while ‘On The Top’ enacts a seance for the hardcore spirit, with loops of rave piano and hiccuping vocal chops pirouetting through knackered samples, air raid sirens and the ghostly crash of breakbeat cymbals. As though in response to the solitary nature of much of his musical exploration, this time, the artist invites other voices into the world of Scream If You Don’t Exist. On ‘Swollen’, the unflinching, brimstone prophecy of Billy Woods sounds clear through an expanse of spirallic bass, preaching the same frayed gospel as Culver when he issues the quietly devastating contemporary diagnosis: “Computer broke but it still works for now / That’s the best you can say for most of us anyhow,” while another fearless correspondent from the fringes, Moor Mother, brings earthbound heft to the ambient drift and obliterating barrage of ‘Restaurants,’ teasing out meaning with elongated intonation and pitch-shifted intensity.

It’s during the album’s most meditative moments that we might recognise this space Culver has found for himself for what it really is. ‘OMG They’re Gone’ follows a chopped and slowed monologue from Culver’s wife, who works as a death doula, reflecting on her own experiences with grief and the reality of living within a culture both terrified and ignorant of the process. Floating over glistening ebb, etherised croons and luminous chimes, her words stand as a prescient reminder of the power of ephemerality. Just as Culver flourishes in imperfection, here we can find enormous strength in transcience. But it’s with ‘Just Jump In,’ which unfurls like a buoyant counterpart to the sparkling oil rigs of ‘I was born by the sea’, that Culver illuminates the hopeful waters we realise we’ve been making our steady way towards. “I know now / That you loved me,” he admits, a revelation a lifetime in the making. Through the rawest reflection Culver has found a way forward, driven by an optimism drawn from a resolve to be better, to love and be loved, an admission to weakness and the discovery of a new kind of strength. “Don’t test the water,” he reassures us and himself, “just jump in.”

Scream If You Don’t Exist will be released in November 2023 by Participant, on limited edition vinyl, and digital download . The release will be accompanied by a series of films directed by Mau Morgo, Josiane M.H Pozi, William Markarian-Martin, Simon Bus, and Bruxism.

Oliver Cherer is back with a new Gilroy Mere record which follows on from his other much lauded Clay Pipe releases (The Green Line, Adlestrop and last year’s D Rothon collaboration, Estuary English).

Over the last two decades Ollie has released numerous collections of music in an ever shifting array of modes, from folktronic, singer-songwriter styles through psychogeographic electronica to jazz-tinged, confessional ghost-pop and most recently, the “guitar tainted machine rock disco” of Aircooled.

Gilden Gate is an album of two halves. Side 1 ‘Rising’ celebrates the sun-drenched beaches, pastures and heaths of rural Suffolk, whereas Side 2 ‘Falling’ explores the underwater world of the lost city of Dunwich and its five church spires.

Oliver says:-

“A few years ago I discovered the lost city of Dunwich. I’d made a trip to Suffolk to shoot a short film about Sizewell Nuclear Power Stations and stayed in the old Coastguard’s Cottage on Dunwich Beach within sight of Minsmere Nature Reserve and the power plants. It’s a wild, sleepy place of pines and heath and North Sea winds and a strangely mysterious air – Sutton Hoo is nearby and Eno’s reference to the very beach that I was staying on made perfect sense. In the small museum at Dunwich I learned that this tiny hamlet had once been a major medieval city of international trade. It seemed unlikely and even now, knowing Dunwich as a small village, I find putting what I know about the place into perspective as a city a certain kind of impossible.

It seems that over a period under the influence of the weather, natural erosion and market rivalry the thriving harbour port was inundated by the North Sea and eventually slipped into and under it. The city of churches was lost and all the spires engulfed and toppled. What remains are the few houses, and the ruin of Greyfriars crumbling inexorably down the cliff and exposing the bones of buried monks as the graveyard follows the building’s stones into the sea.

There are local legends surrounding the site including stories of fishermen hearing the bells of lost churches and seeing the ghostly, lighted city beneath their boats as they return to the shore.
Gilden Gate is named for one of the entrances to the old city and is a musical meditation on Dunwich past and present. Frances Castle’s beautiful sleeve art depicts the surface and the sub-marine, the warm and the cold, the past and the present. The glass rises and the glass falls and in the background there are sirens, fog horns, church bells and Eno, and on the sea bed there are the scattered remains of a once great city.”

Gilden Gate is named for one of the entrances to the old city and is a musical meditation on Dunwich past and present. Frances Castle’s beautiful sleeve art depicts the surface and the sub-marine, the warm and the cold, the past and the present. The glass rises and the glass falls and in the background there are sirens, fog horns, church bells and Eno, and on the sea bed there are the scattered remains of a once great city.”

Brussel's beat smith DC SALAS is back on the block - the Robert Johnson block that is! His 3rd release for LIVE AT ROBERT JOHNSON is also his 20th official release so far - so we have two things to celebrate spread over Diego Cortez Salas' powerful four-tracks EP called »Voces«.

Let's start with the title track: »Voces« is a call to alarm right from the beginning with its stabbing synth bass line and sirens. Add a couple of drum breaks and a heavy beat - et voilà: You have the first of four tunes to jump up and down to. Et oui, Salas surely knows how to build tension in a track - even in a voiceless track named »Voces«.

Next up is »The Lights« - and oh boy does Salas turn them on! These are quite trippy lights with a sound that could easily come from a twisted didgeridoo … The beat of »The Lights« is (of course) groovy as f*** - excuse our French. So let's turn on »The Lights«!

B-side opener »Metallic Glow« does just that: The track glows in bright metallic from the first second and features plenty of crazy sounds to do a crazy dance. Did we mention the groove? No? Well … just listen.

For »Safe Pace« Diego pulls out beautiful percussive elements and the 303 thus surfing on a not-so-safe pace to be honest: The last track of »Voces« is as fast and demanding as all the others.

DC Salas again managed to build four really solid stompers here to set any dancefloor on fire - without using any voice or vocal - these are REALLY SERIOUS SOUNDS you all should listen and dance to. NOW.

To Move is a new project by the trio of Anna Rose Carter (Moon Ate the Dark), Ed Hamilton (Dead Light) and Alex Kozobolis. Four-handed piano meets analogue manipulations to absolute wondrous effect from the London based friends.

We´re carried into a time and place not afraid to embrace a sense of optimism - even if it comes wrapped in a certain distorted shape. Transporting, blissful tones emanate free of concerns from the unifying keys; at least until the melodies are pulled and dragged from purity to become something wholly else – their own lived life; fitted with obstructions and unpredictability. The intertwining pianos linger like lovers in unison, full of drift, rhythm and life; all while analogue electronics and tape manipulations degrade and move them from their original form and closer towards earth itself.

The album came to light while Anna and Ed were temporarily residing in the English countryside between 2016 and 2019. Musical weekend visits from Alex turned into the fruitful collaboration presented here. 'To Move' is a compelling musical storyboard with a name that captures the essence of their music better than any written essay could do. This is music to resonate to, music to dance to, music to engulf your being. As for fans of the Sonic Pieces sound – if there is one – this record hits as close to home as it could do.

Felix Laband’s The Soft White Hand is the masterwork of an artist who expresses himself through musical and artistic collage acting together to reinterpret his sources and to express significant elements of his own personal story.

Released by Munich-based Compost Records, the 14-track album is Laband’s first full-length offering since the critically acclaimed Deaf Safari in 2015. It is heralded by the single “Derek and Me”, and is being pressed on vinyl for distribution globally.

In The Soft White Hand Laband works with source materials that will be familiar to those who know his previous four records – Thin Shoes in June (2001), 4/4 Down the Stairs (2002), Dark Days Exit (2005) and especially Deaf Safari which reached deep into the South Africa scene and its political culture to inspire its vocal and music sampling. However, the disengagement he felt from his homeland during his latest album’s creation – an abiding sense of untethered-ness to place and space, exquisitely rendered in tracks like “Death of a Migrant” – is perceptible in Laband’s desire to illuminate instead aspects of his own life.

“For this album, my source material became almost autobiographical as opposed to African statements I’ve worked with previously,” says the artist. “I have sampled a lot from documentaries from the 80s crack epidemic in impoverished African American communities and believe my work speaks unapologetically for the lost and marginalised, for those who are the forgotten casualties of the war on drugs. In the past, I have had my issues with substance abuse, and I know first-hand about the nightmares and fears, what it feels like to be isolated and abandoned.”

Few artists have managed to air these intimate aspects of their life so luminously as Laband does in tracks like “5 Seconds Ago”, “They Call Me Shorty” and in the strange and meditative “Dreams of Loneliness”. “I’ve been building this weird, autobiographical story using other people talking. It’s kind of humorous but it is also sad and beautiful,” says Laband.

Yet, as in all of Laband’s recorded output, the delineations between emotions are never starkly drawn and The Soft White Hand is also shot through with beauty. Nature appears in recordings made in his garden in the intimate early morning hours, whether as in the calls of the Hadada Ibis and other birdsong in “Prelude” or of the vertical-tail-cocking bird in “Derek and Me”. The last is a wonderful track with Derek Gripper, the South African experimental classical guitarist of international renown, whose 2020 song “Fanta and Felix” imagines a meeting between Fanta Sacko and Laband.

Laband’s eloquence in reinterpreting classical composers such as Beethoven in “We Know Major Tom’s a Junkie” is another thrilling aspect of the new record. “I’ve been properly exploring classical music on this album,” explains Laband, “taking melodies from classical compositions and reinterpreting them”. A fresh quality comes to his work through this sonic adventuring: the tender manipulation of the mundaneness of the computer’s AI voice to reimagine and reinvent iconic lyrics and melodies in strange and unexpected configurations.

The Soft White Hand is Laband’s most cohesive body of work to date. Yet it remains, in its sheer artistic scope, impossible to describe fully. Darkness abuts the gossamer light. A song that summons the sunrise and all the hope of a new day could also be about the final dipping down of the sun that portends a troubled night ahead. Interludes are invitations to expand outwards or shift inwards. Mistakes and “weird fuckups” in the sound are cherished as convincing statements against what Laband calls the “grossness” of perfect sound in modern music.

For this world-leading electronic artist, the boundaries are unfixed. He is inspired by the German Dada artist, Hannah Höch, who memorably declared: “I wish to blur the firm boundaries which we self-certain people tend to delineate around all we can achieve.” His music consequently reflects a primal artistic impulse that is also visible in Laband’s considerable visual art output as seen recently in several solo exhibitions such as that held in the No End Gallery in Johannesburg in 2019 and in the works he produced during his 2018 Nirox Foundation Artists Residency. “My music is always about collage, as is my art,’’ he affirms. “Everything I do is collage. It is a medium I find very interesting because you are taking history and distorting it and changing its meaning and turning it upside down and back to front.” In her book Recollections of My Non-Existence, Rebecca Solnit calls collage “literally a border art”; it is “an art of what happens when two things confront each other or spill onto each other”.

With The Soft White Hand, Laband is confirming his singular ability to achieve this in both art and music, melting the divisions between the two creative disciplines until they become one. He is also affirming his belief that an album of music should be more than a collection of unrelated tracks, but should unfold a fully integrated, cohesive story as in the song cycles of the great classical composers. In doing so, he claims his position as one of the most significant artists working today.

Artist Statement – Felix Laband – August 2022

When the Khmer Rouge took their captives for processing, they identified their class enemies by looking at their hands. If they were sunburned, rough and calloused, they were those of a peasant, a proletarian to be spared. But if they were soft and white, then they were those of a city-dweller, an intellectual or bourgeois, an adversary to be liquidated.

In calling this album The Soft White Hand, I was reflecting on the Cambodian genocide and how it resonates in contemporary South Africa. The apartheid era is over, and gone with it is white political domination. Yet economic and social privilege is still held in soft white hands. But those who grasp it know just how tenuous is their hold, how it singles them out, and my music reflects their subconscious fears, the stress and guilt of clinging on to what others envy and desire.

The soft white hand of the title suggests to me a further image, one that relates to all of postcolonial Africa. In my mind’s eye, I see the soft, duplicitous handshake of the smooth representatives of the superpowers making deals and promising gifts that benefit only them, and not their African dupes.
Yet, soaring above the wailing of sirens sampled from the first day of the invasion of Ukraine, my music is also about love gained and passion lost. It is about the tender caress of a soft white hand that conducts you into a place of dreams to be enfolded by nocturnal melodies.

Ingredient is the elegant collaboration of Toronto poets, composers, producers and dear friends Ian Daniel Kehoe and Luka Kuplowsky. Their self-titled release is an enigmatic electronic avant-pop record attuned to the micro and macro perspectives of the natural world. Ingredient is an album whose lyrics are more poem than lyric, and whose songs exist in a merger of house music, philosophically-minded lyricism and contemporary R&B. One might recall electronic and art-pop luminaries such as Yukihiro Takahashi, The Blue Nile, and Arthur Russell, or connect it to contemporaries like Nite Jewel, Westerman and Blood Orange. A distinct world of dance, of questions, of secrecy and ultimate softness.

Eight years of friendship forges strange telepathy.

In the summer of 2020, Ian Daniel Kehoe was entrenched in a new feeling of heaviness; psychosomatic symptoms had started to proliferate; stress made new pores across the body, bending sensitivity into pain. His days were met with confusion, detachment, sleeplessness and pain without causation. Disfigured, he felt that what had been central and centering was blown out to the periphery of things. In a moment of self-preservation he reached out to his dear friend Luka Kuplowsky to make an album together. For Kehoe, it was an instinctual grasp for the anchoring truthfulness of deep friendship and the potential for a dedicated creative collaboration. Kuplowsky’s presence was light, supportful and curious, eager to explore musically the sounds they were mutually drawn to: house music, ambient pop, dub. The duality between Kuplowsky and Kehoe – between the Aflight and the Unmoored – is a portrait of a friendship whose exchanges came easy and produced an outpouring of song. Creation and therapy crisscross. In email correspondence that catalogs their process of collaboration, affection abounds: “feels bare without the Luka Licks”, or “Love you so much”, or “Kinda just overwhelmed with deadliness coming in at all angles.” When their voices first come in together on “Wolf,” that harmony arrives in a dramatic avant-pop sound that is bold and wondrous.

Kuplowsky and Kehoe both arrive at Ingredient as established artists whose works are committed to language’s propensity to provoke and mystify. Kuplowsky’s 2020 album Stardust is an idiosyncratic and otherworldly blend of pop and jazz romanticism grounded by Cohen-esque vocals and a stirring philosophical curiosity. Kehoe’s entrance into the new decade has hatched four records of pop experimentation, most recently 2022’s Yes Very So, a euphoric and bold album of poetic synth-pop and meditative ambient instrumentals. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s union as Ingredient is a beautiful and unusual chemistry that integrates their distinct approaches while bringing forth a newness: a sound that alternates between cinematic technicolor and dubbed out fogginess; a lyricism that exchanges their lucid and clear poetics for a playful and obtuse verse. The album intuitively taps into the opposing emotional states of Kuplowsky and Kehoe during the conception of the record, contrasting the buoyancy of trumpeting keyboards (“Resurface”), angelic synthesized voices (“Come”), and rolling bass (“Photo”) with the record’s underlying darkness of whirring buzzsaw textures (“Transmission”), whooping sirens (“Wolf”) and murky ambience (“Illumination”). Lyrically, this duality arises in the record’s flux between openness (“Variation”, “Raindrop”) and existential dread (“Wolf”). “Illumination” most clearly crystalizes this opposition, reconciling the verses’ neurotic yearning for enlightenment with the chorus’ liberating doctrine of negation: “no more devotion… no more delusion”. Amidst the gradations of light and dark, Kuplowsky and Kehoe trade indelible, lush melodies as though their voices are made of a substance that melts easily one into the other. The harmony of poetry, sound, and texture cuts through your brain fog like a wet diamond.

Ingredient’s self-titled record was assembled by Kuplowsky and Kehoe over the course of six months in a home studio they frequented daily. Amidst synthesizers and drum machines they composed, re-composed, and workshopped a wide array of music, ultimately focusing on a set of eight songs that lived in a shared musical and philosophical world. Recording days often ended in basketball games at a local court or a rooftop commune over a pot of tulsi tea and a crossword puzzle. Kuplowsky brought in the Blue Cliff Record – the classic anthology of Chan Buddhism – whose inscrutable and sublime insights remained constant throughout the recording process as an activator of reorientation and reflection. While Kehoe was frequently rendered physically immobile by bouts of anxiety, a patience and mutual caring governed the pace of their creation; rest, stretching and meditation became equally important as the act of arrangement. Invited into their intimate circle of composition was Thom Gill, whose heavenly voice uplifts “Variation” and “Raindrop,” and Karen Ng, whose alto sax simmers and dances around the funky strut of “Raindrop.”

The lyrics on Ingredient reflect the persistence of change, the infinite variability of nature where randomness and divergence are no accidents. In Daoism, duality, in the form of Yin and Yang, is not contradictory as it is in Western idealist philosophy, but rather composes the eternal and lived paradox of our changeless-changing universe: changeless because all is change, and changing because the dynamism of the Dao makes each moment transformational. Kuplowsky and Kehoe refract this way of seeing the world, as in Variation: “Variation in the natural world / there it is.” Ingredient is an experience of the manifold ways of saying there it is of the transformational world, and there it is, unfolding. Elsewhere, change and ephemerality is addressed through the record’s preoccupation with non-human perspectives, reorienting the listener to the wolf, the mouse, the emerald frog, the centipede, the bird, the fly in the lamp. The album cover visualizes this fascination with the striking image of a reddish-orange frog atop a defamiliarized landscape of dark green leaves. Mirroring the exploratory process of the record’s collaboration, the frog also signals the amphibian’s natural inclination to leap into boundless potential. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s lyrics manifest philosopher and ecologist Timothy Morton’s concept of “the mesh,” drawing attention to the “vast, entangled web” of interconnectedness that connects all life forms and interweaving the songwriters’ shared wonder into the Animal’s unknowability. As Luka narrates in the breakdown of the dance-floor ready “Photo,” “the closer we observe things, the further they retreat into abstraction.” In Ingredient’s ecosystem, perception is a reversible fractal where the world’s minutest details mirror the shape of the cosmos.

According to the Dao, the path to healing starts by reorienting perception away from the self and toward the self’s subsumption in Totality. For Kehoe, collaborating with Kuplowsky became the reorientation necessary for the self-preservation he was seeking, opening up a shared creative practice to navigate and soften the complexity of his psychological shattering. The album begins with Kuplowsky intoning “colossal faith” which bounces around the stereo field in a cloud of echo, and it is the enormity of “faith” that centers both Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s collaboration and their inquisitiveness in the vast mysteries of our very being. Truth in Ingredient is not an essential nugget, but a bending of the light – it is the equivocal entanglement of how we are in nature as nature, but with a plea or prayer under our breath that marks our felt distance from what we are a part of: “carry me towards the mountains of my birth / returning to the nest / the silence of the earth.”

Over the past decade, Vienna-based Florian Stöffelbauer – also known as Heap, has built a consistent reputation as a skilled DJ, producer and Neubau’s label head.

Isla is proud to present his latest effort “False Hope” which explores the intersections between industrial, electro and dark wave – all with a leftfield twist.

As diverse as it is powerful, the 7 tracks featured here almost feel like nocturnal tales, chalking out Heap’s observations wandering through the streets of a silent city, with cigarette smoke permeating the air and sirens ringing in the distance.
The cinematic essence of the release emerges from the very beginning, with the atmospheric beauty “Diall” transporting us straight into some late-80s scenery of Kraftwerkian nostalgia. In “Jetzt Oder Nie” a sharp knit of drums is placed on top of the grave frequencies of the bass: it’s indeed “now or never”, the moral imperative of the release, requiring us to take action.
Throughout the whole album, hypnotic sounds punctuate the dark space, bouncing between the polyrhythmic and uplifting energies of “Inner peace” and “No Palm Too Big”, a sneaky slow-burner with a nocturnal groove and Gayna Rose Madder’s robotic voice reciting the stream of consciousness of this urban wanderer.

“Trist” rises slowly yet powerfully thanks to its mystical synths covering the ground and preparing us for what comes next.
The title track “False Hope” holds the unique charm of a creature effortlessly floating in between dualities. As obscure as it is airy, as delicate as it is forceful, this hybrid composition is rich in details and plot twists.

At the end of this journey, “Losing time” reminds us of the urgency to take action expressed at the beginning of the album. In a rarefied canvas, an off-kilter solitary sound comes in, starting off as insistent as a car horn in rush hour, and evolving into a beautiful instrument arpeggiating the melody.

Here Heap concludes his narrative for now. We like to imagine him walking away, a shadow fading in the smoke of the city as the first lights of the day appear.

Beatservice Records are thrilled to present the hotly-anticipated third album from Oslo-based production maestro, Third Attempt. 'The Novel Sound' follows on from the widely acclaimed 'Beats From The Quarantine' album released in April 2021, and further compliments the young artist's deserved reputation as one of the dance underground's most exciting talents to emerge in recent years.

Third Attempt (aka Torje Fagertun Spilde) has been dazzling us with his far-reaching music since arriving in the Beatservice fold with 'Shoreline' back in 2018, and since then his ever-evolving repertoire has continued to serve up immaculate sonic surprises. The fast-rising 23-year old artist has wasted no time making his indelible mark, displaying a frenetic work rate alongside an impeccable ear for constructing compelling leftfield grooves.

'The Novel Sound' opens with the rolling deviance of 'Freak Out', where a dusty string sample makes way for vocal samples, scratches, and searing sirens permeating a bass-heavy groove, setting the tone magnificently for the music that's primed to unfold. Next, we arrive in the mid-tempo chug of 'Age Of Steam'. Evolving over a crisp, club-ready rhythm, heavy funk guitars, dancing keys and distant vocal stabs cascade over driving bass before soaring strings herald the arrival of a slick breakdown section. The icing on the cake arrives as bubbling acid joins sensational horn motifs, breaking down once again for a starry-eyed beatless passage that leaves us yearning for a reprise.

'My Girl' features amorous vocal samples hovering over an irresistible disco beat, with alluring rhythm guitars and dreamy e-piano chords setting the scene for rousing horns to blast off into blissful summer skies. Before we've found time to catch our breath, 'Nu Funk' arrives with snappy hip hop samples scratched over tight beats and a delectable bass guitar hook. The groove pauses for dubbed-out space delays to echo into the night before a singing lead guitar joins the rhythm elements to burst back into life, with flute motifs, elegant strings, and otherworldly sweeps elegantly meandering across the panorama.

Set over a groove that arrives like a cool summer breeze, 'Sunbeam Symphony' drifts over soul-soothing chords, weighted bass and slick, rolling beats. Hypnotic keys guide us into position as the drums build energy and the bass notes power us forward. Third Attempt's dextrous keyboard solo dazzles momentarily before subsiding for a dub-infused break, with spaced-out vocal chops and rising sweeps building tension before the groove resumes and the virtuoso solo once again majestically soars. Maintaining the sun-kissed meditations, 'Definite' effortlessly floats through waves of thick bass, funk guitar chops and elegantly fused samples, with seductive chords, hypnotic horns and laser-tight drums combining to create a near overpowering dream state.

The heavy trip-hop rhythms of 'Nightfall' enrapture the listener as rich chords discreetly beckon, with cascading congas, mysterious melodies and exotic refrains building before the glorious lead vocal appears like a hyper-luminous flash of light. The chords disappear into the nothingness, before the carefully selected sample of 'Working Man' drifts in to fill the empty space. Smokey drums soon arrive, joined by weighted bass, foggy chords and an enigmatic whistle lead, fusing to conjure a half-lit world lifted from the pages of an evocative film noir novel.

The enlivening tablas, glitchy effects and saucer-eyed sweeps of 'Greed' hide subliminal messages casting a knowing eye over the consumer-driven society and self-help culture that pervade our society, before we arrive at the album's charmed finale. 'Last Winter Of My Childhood' yet again manages to transport the listener into a gently hallucinatory realm, with drowsy bass notes, tripped out pads and emotive strings building to a profound and rush-inducing crescendo.

'The Novel Sound' once again sees Third Attempt dextrously merging expansive musical aesthetics that fuse trip-hop, funk, soul and disco to deliver a sound that – although endowed with vintage sensibilities – feels proudly up to date. Continuing his breathtaking development in dazzling style, the album feels destined to echo over blissed-out sunsets, back-room excursions and twilight skies for many years to come.

Marisa Anderson is one of the most eminent guitarists working today. Her lucid, eloquent approach to guitar music and composition has established her as an unparalleled artist and an insightful, coveted collaborator. Anderson"s work draws on a mosaic of folk musics and lives in conversation with myriad musical traditions. Her music is inviting and candid, beckoning the listener into sprawling ecosystems and intimate corners alike, from barren landscapes to verdant thickets, impassioned communal experiences to pensive reclusions. As a master of her instrument, Anderson translates abstractions into undeniably moving music, tracing through traditional folk tunes, imagined Sci-Fi films, and foggy sanctuaries of sound. Still, Here is Anderson at her most direct, laying bare her practice of processing and understanding the world through music and distilling that practice into pieces as expressive as they are transfixing. The pieces of Still, Here center around Anderson"s present. The album is a compendium of living moments captured by her preternatural ability to mold human realities into enduring, lyrical compositions. Away from the road for the longest stretch of her career, the making of Still, Here affirmed for Anderson the role of the guitar as an essential tool in processing external and internal realities. "I don"t get ideas and then turn to the guitar, rather I turn to the guitar to find out what my ideas are. I turn towards it for meaning." The discordance of protest and upheaval emanates from a propulsive acoustic ostinato and mournful dueling pedal steel guitars on "The Fire This Time," pausing only to allow space for the blare of sirens on the Portland street near Anderson"s studio. "The Crack Where the Light Gets In" rapturously revels in the glimmers of hope that peek through a pall of darkness. Across Still, Here, Anderson"s playing transmutes the tributaries of fluctuating emotions into a unified flow, stirring and sublime.

Marisa Anderson is one of the most eminent guitarists working today. Her lucid, eloquent approach to guitar music and composition has established her as an unparalleled artist and an insightful, coveted collaborator. Anderson"s work draws on a mosaic of folk musics and lives in conversation with myriad musical traditions. Her music is inviting and candid, beckoning the listener into sprawling ecosystems and intimate corners alike, from barren landscapes to verdant thickets, impassioned communal experiences to pensive reclusions. As a master of her instrument, Anderson translates abstractions into undeniably moving music, tracing through traditional folk tunes, imagined Sci-Fi films, and foggy sanctuaries of sound. Still, Here is Anderson at her most direct, laying bare her practice of processing and understanding the world through music and distilling that practice into pieces as expressive as they are transfixing. The pieces of Still, Here center around Anderson"s present. The album is a compendium of living moments captured by her preternatural ability to mold human realities into enduring, lyrical compositions. Away from the road for the longest stretch of her career, the making of Still, Here affirmed for Anderson the role of the guitar as an essential tool in processing external and internal realities. "I don"t get ideas and then turn to the guitar, rather I turn to the guitar to find out what my ideas are. I turn towards it for meaning." The discordance of protest and upheaval emanates from a propulsive acoustic ostinato and mournful dueling pedal steel guitars on "The Fire This Time," pausing only to allow space for the blare of sirens on the Portland street near Anderson"s studio. "The Crack Where the Light Gets In" rapturously revels in the glimmers of hope that peek through a pall of darkness. Across Still, Here, Anderson"s playing transmutes the tributaries of fluctuating emotions into a unified flow, stirring and sublime.

Produced by Heidecker, Drew Erickson, Eric D. Johnson and Mac DeMarco, High School sees Heidecker emerging as an increasingly playful and poignant story teller, infusing childhood tales with new gravity. In conjunction, he announces Tim Heidecker Live! Featuring Tim Heidecker and The Very Good Band, his first two-act tour of comedy and music. Since 2016, Tim Heidecker has chronicled the annals of adulthood on a series of supreme singer-songwriter albums. The crushing devastation of divorce and the existential malaise of middle-age, the minutiae of home ownership and the ritual of family vacation, child rearing and global warming: Heidecker has handled it all with humor and heart. But, there’s one pivotal lodestar of human development he has yet to mine that’s right, High School. First single “Buddy” is a composite of a few woebegone friends, which finds Heidecker reminiscing on the familiar tragedy of the adolescent stoner, manifesting the destiny of undiagnosed depression and parents who didn’t care much. The song itself is a jangly delight, but it’s hard not to mourn for “Buddy,” then re-count whatever blessings you may have. After initial and fruitful sessions with Jonathan Rado, Heidecker started recording tunes with DeMarco and Erickson, who had also worked on 2020’s collaboration with Weyes Blood, Fear of Death. At DeMarco’s studio, they added drum machines and synths and sidewinding solos to Heidecker’s big strummed chords. Johnson (Bonny Light Horseman, Fruit Bats) helped Heidecker finesse the tunes even more, making the music as rich as the feelings. Kurt Vile contributed to one song, as well. Through all those sessions, it slowly became clear: Heidecker was writing not only about the adventures and misadventures of life as a Pennsylvania teen in the early ’90s, but also how it felt to lose a juvenile sense of mystery and possibility as an adult. He was writing about high school and, really, the way it helped shape everything else. Back at Pennsylvania’s Allentown Central Catholic High School, Heidecker dreamed of making it with one of his many rock bands — Time and Other Things, Shaggy’s Beltbuckle, and (incredibly) The Pulsating Libidos. Two years shy of his graduating class’ 30th anniversary, Heidecker admits he had little of substance to say when he was 17, like all but the rarest of precocious minds. In college, though, he found the friends with whom he built his comedy career, largely apart from music and without much thought for his time back at Central Catholic. He was focused on his future. It is fitting, then, that as Heidecker has become such a delightful singer-songwriter and collaborator, he returns to the first scene of his time as a musician. Maybe he’s right — he didn’t have anything to say or sing about life back then. But across the earnest and amusing High School, he finds plenty to say about those weird and wonderful and ordinary times.

All Good Things create cinematic epic rock that celebrates the underdog, lifts the fallen, and all out gloats in victory. Pairing post-apocalyptic pump-up rock with powerful lyrics, AGT crafts a massive, bombastic sensory assault of anthemic heavy rock, summoning vistas associated with gaming or blockbuster movies. Their worldwide 'For The Glory' hit has accumulated more than 50 million streams, now their full length debut album 'A Hope In Hell' is set for release on August 20th.

Sweetness and noise, light and dark, soul and body - KICK are back with
the new album Light Figures
KICK are Chiara Amalia Bernardini (vocals, bass) and Nicola Mora (guitars,
electric piano, synths, samplers), from Brescia. Their sound combines rough
elements and others more dreamy in a sound that could ideally be defined "sweet
noise", a style on their own melting the noise with the softness of the
atmosphere, without any limits of genre. The production of Light Figures,
composed between 2019 and 2020, was curated together with Marco Fasolo
(Jennifer Gentle, I Hate My Village), known for the international reach of his
works.

The latest offering from French shape-shifter Maxime Primault (High Wolf, Black Zone Myth Chant, etc.) is both a distillation and deepening of psychedelic soundsystem strategies honed across a decade plus of production and performance, in crisscrossing trenches of vibrational exploration. The four cuts comprising IN D EV IL were born of bass and syrup, designed as anthems for baser desires: “I just wanted to make bangers really.” Alien squelches and insectoid chatter pulse above thick swells of low end, intercut with sirens, screwed voices, and seasick wobble, alternately pummeling and prismatic. Masterfully disorienting, flickering with FX, drops, and narcotic murmuring, at the threshold of dissociative and dubstep.

Recent years spent performing in clubs influenced Primault’s listening habits, both in taste and production methods, skewing towards a starker contrast of highs and lows. IN D EV IL encapsulates this evolution, hallucinatory but urgent, like DJ tools for an underworld afterhours: tight, tripped, and lightless. The EP’s tracks vary in energy and density but share Primault’s premise of “tunes that sound fat and heavy.” Club music as dimensional gateway, booming and liminal, rippling with tremors, texture, and undertow. Whether deployed in public or private, these designs manifest vividly altered states, testament to their creator’s omnivorous vision of rhythm and sound.

Trees Speak are back!
Speak’s new album, “Vertigo of Flaws: Emancipation of the Dissonance and Temperaments in
Irrational Waveforms” comes as a double-vinyl edition, single CD and digital release. The limitededition first pressing only of the vinyl includes a bonus 45 enclosed in an 8-page 7”x7” booklet
insert housed within the gatefold sleeve with cover artwork created by Soviet Union propaganda
artist Lazar Markovich Lissitzky in 1911.
Trees Speak are back!
This new release is a vast leap into an ocean of space and sound, a quantum leap into cybernetics, biology, anti-gravity,
time travel, dream speech and transfiguration. A seriously next step release!
Showing no signs of slowing down their rapid creative pace – incredibly this is their fourth album in the space of just over
one year – ‘Vertigo of Flaws’ is a mighty 29 tracks, one and a half hours of music across one double album that is surely
going to be a defining point in their musical career, a giant leap into the sonic unknown, an epic exploration of intensity
and sound.
Alongside their now trademark German krautrock motoric-beat rhythms, angular New York post-punk attitude, tripped-out
60s spy soundtrack, psyche-rock, and 70s synthesizers and vocoders, here you will also hear a new cosmic spacial
awareness (both personal inner space and galactic outer space) and a truly wilful pushing of sonic boundaries - as police
sirens, static noise, alarms, radio signals, avant-garde voices, and orchestral string quartets, all collide to add beautiful
dissonance to uber-powerful, intense, addictive and propulsive rhythms - in the process creating a truly unique
soundscape that Trees Speak have made wholly their own.
If you ever wanted to hear Can, Hawkwind, Destroy All Monsters, Pere Ubu, electric eels, John Cage, Liquid Liquid,
Tangerine Dream, Suicide, Neu!, Laurie Spiegel, Art Ensemble of Chicago, John Barry, Mother Mallard’s Portable
Masterpiece Company, Sun Ra, Stockhausen, John Carpenter, Electro-Acoustic and Musique Concrete and Mars in one
band - then this is it!
Trees Speak are Daniel Martin Diaz and Damian Diaz from Tucson, Arizona and their music often draws on the cosmic nighttime magic of Arizona’s natural desert landscapes. ‘Trees Speak’ relates to the idea of future technologies storing
information and data in trees and plants - using them as hard drives - and the idea that Trees communicate collectively.
Special guests from the hyper-creative hub of the Tucson music scene on this release are Gabriel Sullivan, Ben Nisbet, Saul
Millan, Stephani Guilmette, and Davis Jones.
The album Vertigo of Flaws was recorded in Brooklyn, New York, and Tucson, Arizona during the plague of 2021.
Extract from Vertigo of Flaws sleevenotes:
‘As we travel through space and time, avoiding the discarded remains of the industrial period, the
deconstruction of social norms through the expression of art, music, and philosophy guide the human
experience towards the unknown.
All that remains are musical echoes scattered throughout the universe, like ancient vibrations that now
populate the cosmos. These waves now show signs of decay. Melody, beauty, tonality have all but fallen
away as dissonance blossoms. As John Cage wrote in 1937,
“Whereas, in the past, the point of disagreement has been between dissonance and consonance, it will be,
in the immediate future, between noise and so-called musical sounds. New methods will be discovered,
bearing a definite relation to Schoenberg’s twelve-tone system and present methods of writing percussion
music and any other methods which are
free from the concept of a fundamental tone”.
Similarly, George Van Tassel claimed the Integratron as capable of
rejuvenation, anti-gravity, and time travel. So, what remains of the
“people”? We have adopted from them our own Zeitgeber: their pulses
now guide our sun, our planets, our earths, and are the new circadian,
diurnal, and ultradian rhythms of the galaxy. Traumsprache, dream
speech, is now the internal language of trees.
Decaying metal and machines liberated the note unto nature’s table,
and we sip the delicious nectar of music once more irrational, elaborate,
violent, vast. The past is the future, musical disintegration its own rebirth.
We are nature, once more the computer of the Universe.’

After the release of DISSIDÆNCE Episode 1, warmly met with both critical and popular success, Vitalic keeps his promise and returns with a second instalment, darker and more techno than the first, and this time with a marked industrial aesthetic - cold and minimal. The composition and production style have a post-cold wave heritage, something that has always been part of the artist's DNA but is now brandished with renewed pride.

DISSIDÆNCE Episode 2 opens with Sirens, a towering tornado of synths and sweat, followed by Dancing in the Street, The Void and Light is a Train, sparse techno boiled down to its essence - mechanical, cold and alarming. Tempering this hostility are moments of grace and poetry like Marching, Friends & Foes and Winter is Coming, both melodic and melancholic.

A two-pronged project masterfully orchestrated by Vitalic, a strange cosmic voyage of implacable energy.

fter a hiatus of over eight years Fuzzy Lights are making a welcome return. Burials is the follow-up to the critically acclaimed album Rule of Twelfths, and the fourth album from the Cambridge-based post-folk collective. 

Their sound has been stripped back to its component parts, deconstructed and rebuilt under less obvious influences. There’s a bedrock of folk-rock - predecessors like Trees and Fairport Convention - but this is then built upon through multiple layers, from the stillness of Talk Talk to the orchestral chaos of Godspeed You! Black Emperor. With Burials Fuzzy Lights have cultivated these sounds and influences into something new and fresh that distances the album from the rest of the folk-rock crowd.

The most striking element of these songs is how intimate they are. Lyricist Rachel Watkins has revealed a lot about herself in these seven songs, which have been written from a very personal perspective. Raw experiences have been distilled into each piece, her translucent vocals often betraying the content of the songs themselves. The album is bookended with the most personal of these. Opener ‘The Maidens Call’ reveals her loss from suffering a miscarriage, whilst album closer, ‘The Gathering Storm’ frames the rallying cry of women’s rights around how individuals must work together now, and in future generations, to destroy prejudice. There is also engagement with humanity’s immediate surroundings and the environment. ‘Under The Waves’ deals with devastation of coral reefs, ocean resources and our natural world, and ‘The Graveyard Song’ imagines the perception of time from the juxtaposed views of a yew tree and a young woman.

As scenarios, paths, and outcomes shift around us, Burials’ amalgam of glowering, intense instrumentation, timeless, weightless melody, and exactingly revealing lyricism carves a very particular path through the world. This is music that tears us away from the everyday not just as a form of escapism, but as a means of self-reflection on hardship and the strategies we develop to overcome it.  It is the band’s rawest yet most accomplished statement to date.

The four Scottish-Irish musicians Conor Dalton, David Donaldson, Greame Reedie and Ian Maclennan are Island People. After their highly acclaimed debut from 2017, they have now finished their second album with the simple and consistent title »II«. Compared to their debut, »II« sounds more mature and complex. The arrangements unfold like the long tracking shots of an early Antonioni film - time seems to stand still, circling the moment. Impressionistically, one feels transported into the Scottish island landscape with its contrasting lights and harsh elements. Gloomy, darker, richer textures have conquered their space on »II« as much as the more present acoustic components. As much as its predecessor, also this record was skilfully produced, the musicians’ entire experience is audible (Conor Dalton is a sought-after mastering engineer; David Donaldson a Grammy Award-winning producer) – but anything fashionable or sensationalist has been intentionally waived. The musical serenity, holding up a craft that neither has to show itself off every minute nor wants to respond to the latest trends impressed us the most. The cover photo was contributed by the Scottish artist Helena Ohman. She also provided the video for the track »Crash«. Furthermore, singer Alice Hill-Woods was invited to contribute the lyrics and vocals to »Stalling«. Island People »II« will be released as gatefold double LP as well as on CD and digitally. In advance we asked Island People about the creative process behind the album and quote as follows: This album reflects on the destination we have in common before us, and celebrates the longer road while also considering paths not taken and journeys that ended too soon. It has been said that »art is how we decorate space; music is how we decorate time.« For us the writing of this album has been a great journey through both, shared with friends. While our first album acknowledged our own spaces and borders as individuals, the new album seemed to grow very quickly from our travels together as a band. Periods spent on the road playing live afforded extra time together and while we didn’t feel constrained to a concept at the start, more and more of the tracks evolved to reflect these journeys and experiences together.

Ian McDonnell is an Irish producer living in Wicklow near Dublin. Alongside his solo releases as Eomac he's also one half of the duos Lakker, noeverything and Lena Andersson. 'Cracks' represents a change of scenery and a change of practice from his previous two albums which were both conceptualised from the outset and recorded while living in Berlin. In contrast 'Cracks' was made in a beautiful rural part of Ireland without any outside pressure. These circumstances allowed Ian to wipe the slate clean and make an album guided by his mood on any particular day, connecting into the subtle power of his new environment and reflecting it, rather than working to please the suffocating demands of clublife. The title 'Cracks' comes from the idea that, to quote Leonard Cohen, a crack is "how the light gets in", but also of course it's a title that bears witness to the cracks fomenting in the world right now. The music comes across with depth and passion, sounding deep and mossy with Eomac's penchant for punchy, shuffling drums underpinning the emotive tracks. From the off, the furious 'Mandate For Murder' flips and repeats Akala's protest about systemic racism, rushing deep into the panicked sirens of 'Portuguese Man O' War'. The album settles into a sense of mystery, wildness and dark otherworldliness with the foggy drone and timber kick of 'Ancient Self' reflecting the awe and spiritual connections to his new environment, much like the gorgeous strings and aqueous bleeps of 'Seashells' or the pitch-shifted shoegaze of 'Prophetess'. At other points it responds to the human condition, for instance the cathartic 'Falling Through the Cracks' where a broken scream is pitted against clattering drums. At other moments it simply reaches out; 'Reasons to Live's' whispered mantra of "I know you are loved by somebody" is gently insistent. It ends with a reference to a place he's left behind, seen through the lens of nature. 'All the Rabbits in the Tiergarten' could be a missing track from Aphex's Ambient Works, albeit with cut-up scissoring drums. The album is a fruitful move, inwards and forwards.