quête:slow life

A split 12” with four soulful and danceable IDM jams by
Lucita Octans and DJ Lifegoals. The opening track Aegian
Chrome features phat bassline, funky breakbeat and
otherworldly synths. The other Lucita track Last Lane Shu©e
gets busier with intricate rhythms and synth riffs that tell a
surreal story. On the §ipside, Anesthz starts with a rough
uptempo breakbeat and slowly introduces a super soulful
and funky bass pattern alongside some choice pads. The
second DJ Lifegoals track Parallax Vision introduces ultrafunky bassline and develops into a rich tapestry of sound.
These warm hardware jams really put the letter “D” back to
IDM!

The moons of Saturn are the inspiration for this brooding, often soaring and searching odyssey of dark electronica.

The second largest planet in the solar system after Jupiter, and the sixth planet from the sun, Saturn is orbited by 53 confirmed moons, with another 29 that are unnamed and still being studied.

Saturnian is a suite of thirteen choral tracks taking their names from some of Saturn's known moons; Dione, Daphnis, Phoebe, Prometheus, Rhea, Janus, Titan, Enceladus, Tethys, Telesto, Mimas, Hyperion and Iapetus, all named after figures from Greek and Roman mythology, each loaded with their own turbulent back stories. It is the debut release by Holmes + atten Ash, written, recorded and produced remotely in Edinburgh and Bristol by the duo Simon Holmes and Paul Nash.

Their project began during the 2020 lockdown. For Simon, time was spent exploring the Pentland Hills south of Edinburgh. For Paul, the Mendip Hills, south of Bristol. Both would experience the darker side of our human impact on the environment. Simon observed the wilderness as a wasteland, finding discarded, rusting metal littering the Pentland Hills while Paul witnessed the decimation of the ancient woodland of the Mendips' King's Wood due to the destructive tree fungus ash dieback.

These field trips fuelled a desire to navigate not just the landscape, but the duo's emotional place within it. Their collaboration led to a concept album that explores the outer reaches of the solar system, while simultaneously grounding them in a specific place. Looking inwards as much as outwards, theycreated soundscapes based on deeply imagined and felt connections to their surroundings.

After Simon had created a choral piece to accompany Luke Jerram's enormous, world touring artwork Museum of the Moon, Saturnian was a natural progression. When Simon was sent an initial score for the ethereal track Enceladus, composed by Paul in Bristol, he added choral arrangements recorded in Edinburgh. Their shimmering, tense opus continued to evolve from there. Just as the discarded bed springs and abandoned car parts that Simon stumbled upon in the Pentland Hills seemed to him at once "horrible but also oddly beautiful", Saturnian melds together melancholy and levity, fusing moments of dark angst with a celestial calm.

Opening with the glistening, hopeful brightness of Dione, increasingly urgent rhythms give way to digital, otherworldly calls from what might be rainforest creatures chirping into life with robotic squawks and delicate keyboard lines on Phoebe, followed by slowed down, monastic song on Rhea. Tethys is a hypnotic blur of synthesiser and soft chanting, while Rhea is a mysterious, echoing chasm, lifted by melodic, gentle male vocals. Janus has a glowing, effervescent energy, swiftly followed by a sense of tension on Titan, which throbs with driving percussive unease.

The album artwork is a pencil drawing created by Edinburgh artist Simon Kirby. It was made by a robot drawing machine, using custom algorithms that bring to life recordings of the sound of magnetic waves near Saturn's icy moon, Enceladus. The lines in the centre of the drawing are distorted by sound captured by the Cassini spacecraft which studied Saturn for over a decade.

Much like Saturn and its frozen, rocky moons, this debut album from Holmes + atten Ash is mysterious and beguiling, with a hint of foreboding in the depths of its powerful beauty and epic scale.

Four Flies Records is proud to present its brand new imprint Edizioni Della Notte, which expands the label's musical range. The sound of Edizioni Della Notte is a sound of twilight atmospheres and moonlit nights, traversing genres from disco-funk to soft rock, jazz-fusion and city pop. It's the music that creeps out of smoky nightclubs and car cassette radios, breaking the silence of empty streets and offering an escape from metropolitan reality into cosmic-exotic dreamlands.

Quite fittingly, the first official release on Edizioni Della Notte is called By Night. It's the debut EP of Scerida, a solo project of musician and singer-songwriter Daniela Resconi, and a perfect match for the sound that the new imprint intends to represent.

Its four tracks explore the idea of night as a time of ecstasy and torment, as a land of freedom and imagination but also of delusion, as an accomplice, a friend and an enemy described through feelings and mental states that range from expectation and euphoria to disillusionment and resignation.

Resconi, who hails from Brescia, northern Italy, formerly released music under the moniker Cara and as part of the duo The Loud Vice. Her new alias Scerida, which combines the French term chérie with the Spanish word querida, signals both a revolution and an evolution. "Scerida is a dive into the exotic side of my imagination, into mischevious thoughts, into a crazy night where I lost and found myself again," she explains. "She is still me, Daniela, but she keeps her eyes wide open on this restless, troubled world to write songs that try to ward off the horror vacui of everyday life."

By Night celebrates the dark hours as magical and mesmerizing, even when mysterious or dangerous. It evokes images and scenarios cinematically – a taxi passing by and fading into the distance, ice-cold Martinis during a party, whirlwinds of emotion, psychedelic sunrises and neon sunsets – through a stream of consciousness filled with noir-inflected pop, lo-fi vibes, slow hypnotic rhythms, suspended grooves and swelling atmospheres.

Debut album from Alex Ho out of Los Angeles.

In his foundational essay on Los Angeles, L.A. Glows, the essayist Lawrence Weschler speaks on the city's uncanny, immediately recognizable light; "The late-afternoon light of Los Angeles—golden pink off the bay through the smog and onto the palm fronds." Weschler traces the city's mysterious refracted light from the iconic paintings of David Hockney through the city's frequent portrayal on film and TV, noting its ability to put residents into a state of "egoless bliss."

Similarly, Alex Ho's new album for Music From Memory, 'Move Through It', radiates with the unmistakable LA glow. While the Pasadena native's studio work is just now coming to light, Ho has long been a fixture in the Los Angeles dance music scene, throwing what are perhaps the city's most musically expansive warehouse events and carving out a singular voice as a DJ, as heard on his brilliant Moony Habits show for NTS. The eight-track record, however, lands in a more contemplative zone, better suited for a golden hour drive than a night out.

Though it's his first record, 'Move Through It' is the accomplished work of a fully-formed artist, produced patiently between 2017 and 2020 with help from friends including Baba Stiltz, Phil Cho, Damon Palermo and John Jones. "Mark," the Koanic track conclusion side A, is an arpeggiated slow burn reminiscent of Pino Donaggio's brilliant score for Brian De Palma's 1984 film Body Double. Ho's stunning, pure falsetto soars above gentle melodies. "Miss Suzuki," the piece that originally caught the ear of MFM's Jamie Tiller and Tako, opens the record with a blue, cinematic sway. Ho's facility for poignant melodies—easily conveyed through saxophone, vibes, various keyboards and his own voice—shines on "College Crest Drive," as well as the title track. The lyrical "Move Through It" and the restrained and beautiful closing cut, "TYFC," are abetted by glimmering Kraut guitar figures courtesy of John Jones.

While Ho's rhythms and melodies paint a crystal-clear musical vision, the music's emotional centre is more elusive, indicative of a yearning feeling synonymous with the City Of Angels. Hitting these hazy and subtle notes, Move Through It falls within a canon of sun-addled records spanning from Herb Alpert's "Rotation" to Dam-Funk's Private Life trilogy as Garrett. An immersive and concise statement, Alex Ho's 'Move Through It' is as warm and uncanny as the city that inspired it, a definitive LA album.

Like every record Superchunk has made over the last thirty-some years, Wild Loneliness is unskippably excellent and infectious. It’s a blend of stripped-down and lush, electric and acoustic, highs and lows, and I love it all. On Wild Loneliness I hear echoes of Come Pick Me Up, Here’s to Shutting Up, and Majesty Shredding. After the (ahem, completely justifiable) anger of What a Time to Be Alive, this new record is less about what we’ve lost in these harrowing times and more about what we have to be thankful for. (I know something about gratitude.

I’ve been a huge Superchunk fan since the 1990s, around the same time I first found my way to poetry, so the fact that I’m writing these words feels like a minor miracle.) On Wild Loneliness, it feels like the band is refocusing on possibility, and possibility is built into the songs themselves, in the sweet surprises tucked inside them. I say all the time that what makes a good poem the “secret ingredient” is surprise. Perhaps the same is

true of songs. Like when the sax comes in on the title track, played by Wye Oak’s Andy Stack, adding a completely new texture to the song. Or when Owen Pallett’s strings come in on “This Night.” But my favorite surprise on Wild Loneliness is when the harmonies of Norman Blake and Raymond McGinley of Teenage Fanclub kick in on “Endless Summer.”

It’s as perfect a pop song as you’ll ever hear sweet, bright, flat-out gorgeous and yet it grapples with the depressing reality of climate change: “Is this the year the leaves don’t lose their color / and hummingbirds, they don’t come back to hover / I don’t mean to be a giant bummer but / I’m not ready / for an endless summer, no / I’m not ready for an endless summer.” I love how the music acts as a kind of counterweight to the lyrics.

Because of COVID, Mac, Laura, Jim, and Jon each recorded separately, but a silver lining is that this method made other long-distance contributions possible, from R.E.M.’s Mike Mills, Sharon Van Etten, Franklin Bruno, and Tracyanne Campbell of Camera Obscura, among others. Some of the songs for the record were written before the pandemic hit, but others, like “Wild Loneliness,” were written from and about isolation.

I’ve been thinking of songs as memory machines. Every time we play a record, we remember when we heard it before, and where we were, and who we were. Music crystallizes memories so well: listening to “Detroit Has a Skyline,” suddenly I’m shout1singing along with it at a show in Detroit twenty years ago; listening to Overflows,” I’m transported back to whisper-singing a slowed-down version of it to my young son, that year it was his most-requested lullaby.

Wild Loneliness is becoming part of my life, part of my memories, too. And it will be part of yours. I can picture people in 20, 50, or 100 years listening to this record and marveling at what these artists created together beauty, possibility, surprise during this alarming (and alarmingly isolated) time. But why wait? Let’s marvel now. - Maggie Smith

With the two-part EP Mediterranean Dreams, Perugia producer and composer Feel Fly revisits his musical roots and pays tribute to the sounds and ‘sun-kissed nostalgia’ that informed his style.


Mediterranean Dreams Part 1 collected four tracks, and added that Feel Fly touch of emotive chord progressions and layered production onto cosmic disco grooves to powerful dancefloor effect. Now with Mediterranean Dream Part 2, Feel Fly switches the tempo both up and down, to fully demonstrate his affinity for club moments of all shapes and sizes.


Nebula flies out the gate with full intent, recalling classic Detroit techno while pushing the vibe even more wide-screen - it’s driving, melodic dance music that delivers on the fine details as much as it does on the life-affirming, big picture sentiment.


Optical Bells opens in meditative style, not unlike a new dawn in a Tibetan monastery, before each element of the track slowly reveals itself and assumes its place. It’s an arrangement technique that Feel Fly employs masterfully, and gives the impression of a camera lens moving into focus, or a storyteller setting the scene. The revolving chord changes pull you in and while whisking you away, you’re compelled to engage with the moment - like being asked to dance by a mysterious stranger.


The B side kicks off with Luce Eterna Ai Sognatori, still keeping the tempo high while cherry-picking disco house drum patterns and piano synths with a slight Italo flavor to create an irresistible slice of dancefloor dessert. This is a soundtrack for Sognatori, in whose dreams anything is possible.


The EP finishes up with a superb cut of echoey balearic dub in the form of Templum Dub. Putting the drums through its mixing desk paces, Feel Fly reanimates the drum kit with delays, phasers and flangers, and wraps it up in hazy drifting pads that could accompany any moment of contemplation - from that morning espresso to a midnight phone call.


Mediterranean Dreams Part 2 acts as the perfect compliment to its prequel Part 1, and shows a producer at the height of his powers, reimagining his musical roots and composing a love letter to the sounds and stories of his youth.

Over the last couple of years Nandu has made quite an impact, dropping several releases both with Innervisions on their Secret Weapons compilations, his massive cut ‘Child Of A Child’ levelled dance floors across the world last year, and now he’s landed on TAU with four new cuts fresh from his lab.

Kicking off with ‘Horisont’, a bumpin’ cut with dense kicks and an energy-fueled main melody which bounces around the mid-range. Shimmering synths complement the riff, transporting us from our mortal bodies into another vibrational dimension.

Then we have ‘Outlined’, where Nandu channels his mystical aura into a rousing cut that blends arcane sounds with warped vocals and entrancing instrumentation. This one feels like an adventure in the rustic, indoor souks of a vibrant desert land.

‘Not The First’ is next up, offering more of that Nandu magic. At its essence, this one undulates way down below, growing and slowly billowing out into a smooth, serene soundscape. The track is optimistic, emotive and nourishing, taking us by the hand and leading us into a life-affirming breakdown and an equally enriching second half, full of joy and euphoric energy.

Finally ‘Telesaki’ is like a portal that transports us into a hopeful future. Gentle piano keys combine with the soothing low end as a melancholy melody triggers memories of a distant past. Towards the middle of the track a gnarly riff appears, switching up the energy of the track and ushering in a pumped up second half. When you look into the past you can see where you’re going...

The Second Release Of Wataj Recordings Introduces For The First Time Mr. Tony Pianola. A Trip Inside His Conscious And Unconscious Mind During A Night In Which Dreams, Euphoria, Lost Loves And Desires Mixed All Together Give Life To luce Artificiale'. The Result Is A Pure italo-synth' Style Influenced By The Attraction For The Experimental Slow Disco Sensuality.

with »redsuperstructure«, robert lippok created a new foundation for his musical endeavors. now - 7 years later - this system properly comes to life on »applied autonomy«. the title of the new album is a clear indicator as to what the berlin-based producer has been up to during the last couple of years, both on a conceptual level as well as how he molds his ideas into tracks.
»applied autonomy« orchestrates a certain state of frantic standstill, which occurs once a structure is set. has this state been reached, the artist is free to focus on other equally important aspects, balancing the various shades, pushing ideas even further to really make them shine and blossom in their self-declared autonomy. the more light one lets in, the more layers become visible.
layers are key when it comes to understanding »applied autonomy«. big chunks of the material with which the album has been produced derive from sketches specifically made for a club performance. rather than meticulously devising each and every detail, lippok focussed instead on recording as many fragments as possible in a short period of time, elements which he could later combine and layer on stage. based on this material and his experience experimenting with it in a live environment, the album slowly began to shape. an album culminating in a collaboration with klara lewis, with whom lippok spent 2 days at the EMS studios in stockholm, approaching the idea of autonomy from yet another angle. during the session, both musicians played and performed simultaneously, yet not explicitly together, lost in their own thoughts and ideas, only subconsciously taking in what the other one was coming up with. the result is »samtal«, 14 minutes of a constantly evolving state of poise, magically connecting all the dots Lippok had already defined as »applied autonomy«.

Repress incoming!

Following the success of two collaborative releases (EMC “The Show”/2008 and Ace & Edo G “Arts & Entertainment” /2009), Masta Ace joins forces with the metal faced MF Doom for Son of Yvonne, a highly personal concept album that celebrates the life and legacy of Ace’s recently departed Mother. Like his 2004 landmark Disposable Arts, Son of Yvonne is meticulously constructed with stories, settings, and characters that resonate with flesh and bone humanity. Interstitial vignettes provide a thematic backbone to the experience, and each track complements and completes the previous to form a narrative whole: a sometimes visceral, sometimes nostalgic slice of Ace’s young life in Brownsville, Brooklyn. Entirely underscored by MF Doom’s iconic Special Herbs instrumentals, Son of Yvonne features the Juice Crew general Big Daddy Kane, new comers Pav Bundy (The Bundies), Reggie B and even MF Doom on the mic. It’s Masta Ace’s no frills flow, however, that looms largest above the dusty samples and digger loops that define Doom’s production. Ace’s photo-realistic rhymes about stick-up kids, spraycan artists and wack emcees add extra gravity to his already celebrated reputation as “truly an under-appreciated rap veteran and underground luminary” (Allmusic Guide). Like Eminem recalls in his 2008 autobiography The Way I Am, “Masta Ace had amazing storytelling skills. His thoughts were so vivid.” TRACKLIST: A1. DJ Ski's Intro A2. Ninteen Seventy Something A3. Son Of Yvonne B1. Da Pro B2. Store Frontin B3. Me & My Gang B4. Crush Hour feat Pav Bundy C1. Think I Am feat Big Daddy Kane & Mf Doom C2. Fresh Fest Reggie B C3. Hoe-Tel-leftovers C4. Slow Down D1. Home Sweet Home feat Pav Bundy D2. Dedication D3. I Did It D4. In Da Spot feat Milani The Artis D5. Outtakes

Music To Watch Seeds Grow By continues its second season with Seoul-based left of centre ambient duo Salamanda - Uman Therma (Sala) and Yetsuby (Manda) - and their meditation on the inner life of a basil plant. Seeds 008 is an ambient composition born from quiet domestic observation: a single basil on a windowsill, its days shaped by light, warmth, and the slow passage of time.

The album moves through a full day in the plant's life opening with ‘introduce my atom which is my favorite one’, an act of quiet self-declaration in morning light, before settling into the unhurried rhythmic pulse of ‘to to ki toki tok’- the drip of water, the tick of a clock, the slow beat of photosynthesis. ‘allez, pousse!’ - one of the standouts in this journey - carries the basil's gentle will to grow, to push, to tilt toward the sun, while ‘hungry snail’ captures a moment of creaturely encounter on the glass: an uninvited visitor, moving slowly, wanting. As the afternoon deepens, 'Basil's Ritual' traces the daily ceremony of light and warmth, repeated with calm devotion from root to leaf. Night falls across 'Basil's Dream', and in the stillness something like sleep arrives - the plant resting, imagining tomorrow's sun. The album closes with ‘the blue wine’, a final mysterious reverie in which the basil seems to contemplate its own fate, somewhere between acceptance and wonder.

The fifth release on Objekt’s Kapsela imprint is (re)weave, an EP of crystalline club tracks from Detroit-born, London-based producer Tristan Arp.

(re)weave was written during a prolonged period of flux for the artist. “When I started making this record, my life and the world felt like a maze,” he recounts. As he routed and re-routed through past and future homes – Mexico to New York to Detroit to Mexico and finally to London – his output bore the marks of this repeated uprooting. “I was thinking about making music that reflected these twists and turns, and the knotty pathways through them. I was also re-reading Borges around this time, which must have influenced my interest in labyrinths.”

Accordingly, the EP is a mycelial puzzle, a tangle of spidery, undulating ostinatos and earthy percussion, stitched through with syncopated kicks. Employing the sounds of multitudinous critters and kin – whales, insects, thunder, water, forests – the arrangements sum to a sentient mesh of organic matter, the compositions living and breathing like earthly beings. Kaleidoscopic tendrils explore in every direction but are always underpinned by a driving, percussive backbone. It’s not easily classifiable: it’s bass-driven, but to simply call it “bass music” would sell it short.

In keeping with the winding geographical paths traced over the EP’s creation, (re)weave saw Tristan Arp revisiting and reinterpreting unfinished sessions and incorporating them into newer ideas. Rhythms and sounds have been transplanted and self-recycled from previous projects and woven into the fabric of the record. In this way, (re)weave also describes a looping back over time, a recalibration of the self from past to present through interlocking rhythms, channeling and communing with versions of oneself from times gone by.

The closing track, Wish Server, slows the EP to walking pace and hints at tentatively emerging from the deepest jungle into a delicate, innocent light. Tristan Arp imagines it as a dialog with a baby-self. “Some of my earliest memories are of sitting at my mother’s loom,” he offers. “The sequence of these tracks traces these feelings and follows the thread back to the primordial soup… through mazes… to a feeling of levitation.”

When you name your band Prince Daddy & The Hyena, you sort of accept that chaos isn’t a chapter in your story – it’s the entire ethos. Since forming out of Albany, NY’s DIY scene, Prince Daddy & The Hyena have built a career out of reaching their breaking point and continuing forward anyway. Their first LP, produced by Joe Reinhart, captured a very young band figuring things out in real time; their massive conceptual undertaking Cosmic Thrill Seekers followed and pushed their ambition (and patience) to new extremes. Not long after, a serious van accident nearly took their lives, directly informing the intensity of their self-titled record.

Over the last decade, the band has lost close friends and collaborators, endured relationship struggles, and faced countless moments that would have ended most bands without question. But those experiences never slowed Prince Daddy & The Hyena down. On their upcoming fourth album, Hotwire Trip Switch, they recalibrate and reconnect with their roots while sounding more focused and self-aware than ever. Reuniting with Joe Reinhart for the first time in nearly a decade, the album pulls from the punchy lineage of Green Day, the hook-driven quirk of Weezer, the snarky urgency of Joyce Manor and Jeff Rosenstock – all through the distinctly bratty lens of songwriter and vocalist Kory Gregory.

Leading outlet for forward-thinking Scandinavian jazz, April Records, proudly presents the new album from Malmö-based quintet People In Orbit. A followup to their critically acclaimed 2023 release Close/Away (Naxos Prophone), the group continues to explore Scandinavia"s jazz tradition through a contemporary lens, blending acoustic interplay with electronics and a focus on collective improvisation. Led by trumpeter and composer Adam Sass, People In Orbit were formed in late 2020 with the intention of reimagining the classic jazz quintet with a contemporary edge. The group prioritises space, interaction, and ensemble balance, allowing composed material and collective responsiveness to shape the music. Alongside Sass, the band features Edvin Ekman (tenor saxophone, effects), Niklas Bergström (piano, Moog, keyboards), Edvin Elmersson (double bass), and Frank William Reis (drums). Viewpoint is a concept-driven album centred on perspective; how different viewpoints influence the way events are interpreted, and how perspective can foster connection or distance. Much of the album is built around Cycles, a four-part suite composed from a graphic score, with each section representing a different human life and its relationship to the surrounding world. The album moves through shifting emotional and psychological states, from curiosity and tension to reflection and release. Perspective is explored not only through human experience, but also via non-human viewpoints - including music inspired by deep-ocean communication between whales and slow, drifting motion. Musically, Viewpoint continues People In Orbit"s blend of modern jazz-rock and electronics, while drawing influence from the Scandinavian jazz quintet tradition of the 1960s. The music balances structured composition with openness, allowing individual voices to exist within a clearly defined collective sound. With Viewpoint, People In Orbit presents a focused and cohesive statement - an album shaped by shared intent, conceptual clarity, and a continued commitment to collective expression.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Generic Flipper, the debut album by Flipper, remains the most absorbing full-length LP to emerge from the early San Francisco punk scene. A constant source of imitation for so-called "noise rock" bands, it has yet to be surpassed in its nihilistic glee.

Recorded between October 1980 and August 1981 and released in 1982 on the indispensable Subterranean Records, this album functions as a chaotic, sticky mass of individual personalities: the magma-like bass eruptions and dual vocals of Will Shatter and Bruce Loose, Ted Falconi's icy guitar scraping and the relentless beat of drummer Steve DePace. At times playful and taciturn, paranoid and absurd, Generic charts a deliberate path that willfully chances destruction.

In early '80s punk, when the hardening default was "faster-shorter-louder," Generic subverts the nascent hardcore scene with a strictly applied regimen of turgid-slower-heavier. The lyrics are bleak, yet unnervingly beautiful. "Ever" sets the tone with trademark restraint – "Ever wish the human race didn't exist? And then realize you're one too?" – while closer "Sex Bomb" is a churning, 8-minute epic with looping bass, saxophone accompaniment and electronic effects of dropping bombs.

Tons of indie bands have attempted to recreate Flipper's mix of acidic guitar, metallic bass sludge and sardonically brilliant lyricism, using the seemingly effortless template they pioneered; however, the effect usually drives listeners right back to Generic. While most of their contemporaries wilt under direct comparison, No Trend, the Butthole Surfers, feedtime and Church Police are a few who can stand the frigid heat.

New album from Pictish Trail, AKA Johnny Lynch, known for his wildly inventive electro-acoustic psych-pop. Life Slime is the sixth full-length album by Pictish Trail (AKA Johnny Lynch) - a strange, tender, psychedelic electro-pop record shaped by transformation, exhaustion, hope, guilt, and renewal. Written at home on the Isle of Eigg and recorded at Mike Lindsay's studio down in Margate (Tunng / LUMP), the album follows 2022's critically acclaimed Island Family, further refining Lynch's world of lo-fi electronics, warped pop melodies, baggy psych rhythms and emotionally direct songwriting. It's a record that balances woozy synth-pop, motorik propulsion and intimate acoustic songwriting, all infused with the emotional messiness that gives the album its title. Across the album's singles - the guilt-stained psych-pop ballad 'Hold It', the life-affirming shimmer of 'Infinity Ooze', the late-night confession of 'Torch Song', the expansive eight-minute centrepiece 'Another Way', and the cinematic closer 'Werewolf Ending' - Life Slime charts a journey from emotional fracture to uneasy release. 'Sorry Eyes' brings a punchy electro-pop strut with a sharp emotional edge, 'Crystal Cave' drifts through crystalline guitars and shoegaze haze into transformation, and the title track 'Life Slime' moves with a slow, weary swagger toward bittersweet acceptance. Together, these tracks form a cohesive album statement about surrender, resistance, change and renewal. "Wonderfully weird pop"- Brooklyn Vegan For fans of Hot Chip, The Flaming Lips, Liars, Mercury Rev, Beck, John Grant, Empire of the Sun, Grandaddy. Colour vinyl and digisleeve CD

Australian indie and garage-rock firebrand, GIMMY unveils her new EP Labour of Love — a raw, emotionally charged collection that fuses gritty indie rock, post-punk bite and tender poetic expression, all powered by Gemma Owens’ unmistakable vibrato and fiercely honest songwriting.

Where her 2024 debut Things Look Different Now was a slow-burn, two-to-three–year voyage of change and introspection, Labour of Love hits with an entirely new force: intuitive, immediate and deeply connected to Owens’ emotional world. Written over six months and captured in an intense 4–5 day studio burst with producer Sam Joseph (King Gizzard), the EP moves with the urgency of something that needed to be felt and heard, right away.

Across seven compelling tracks, GIMMY dives into social anxiety, grief, falling in love and the chaotic beauty of everyday life, with each song arriving “on its own terms” — born from late-night home writing sessions, snippets of inspiration while travelling and moments of full-band electricity. Sonically, Labour of Love nods to Soft Play, Nick Cave, Fontaines D.C., The Preatures and The Smiths, yet remains unmistakably GIMMY: expressive, gritty, vulnerable, cheeky and alive in every moment.

Ultimately, the EP is an unfiltered snapshot of emotional truth, celebrating life’s highs, lows and everything in between, and showcasing GIMMY at her most dynamic, powerful and compelling to date.

Australian indie and garage-rock firebrand, GIMMY unveils her new EP Labour of Love — a raw, emotionally charged collection that fuses gritty indie rock, post-punk bite and tender poetic expression, all powered by Gemma Owens’ unmistakable vibrato and fiercely honest songwriting.

Where her 2024 debut Things Look Different Now was a slow-burn, two-to-three–year voyage of change and introspection, Labour of Love hits with an entirely new force: intuitive, immediate and deeply connected to Owens’ emotional world. Written over six months and captured in an intense 4–5 day studio burst with producer Sam Joseph (King Gizzard), the EP moves with the urgency of something that needed to be felt and heard, right away.

Across seven compelling tracks, GIMMY dives into social anxiety, grief, falling in love and the chaotic beauty of everyday life, with each song arriving “on its own terms” — born from late-night home writing sessions, snippets of inspiration while travelling and moments of full-band electricity. Sonically, Labour of Love nods to Soft Play, Nick Cave, Fontaines D.C., The Preatures and The Smiths, yet remains unmistakably GIMMY: expressive, gritty, vulnerable, cheeky and alive in every moment.

Ultimately, the EP is an unfiltered snapshot of emotional truth, celebrating life’s highs, lows and everything in between, and showcasing GIMMY at her most dynamic, powerful and compelling to date.

When Ryan DeRobertis announced the name change of his project from Saint Pepsi to Skylar Spence, there was no indication of any stylistic departure, though the change arrived with a musical shift toward faster tempos and more pristine production. Whereas Saint Pepsi had often used decades-old boogie, disco, and new wave as grist for the sampling mill, Skylar Spence is intent on trafficking more overtly in those genre aesthetics through his own production techniques and vocal contributions. With Prom King, DeRobertis reorients his music for his new full-band live act and winds up with an album full of tight and enveloping dance tunes.

Working with Carpark Records 'gave me the confidence to 'go big' with the new material: to write pop songs with universal messages in the sonic wrapping paper that I've grown accustomed to,' DeRobertis says. 'A few songs on Prom King are about specific events in my life—a party where I got too messed up, watching a friend's life spiral out of control and trying to help—but I tried hard not to be too autobiographical because I want my music to unite, above all else. I'm much more interested in connecting with the listener than mystifying my personality.'

While DeRobertis' previous long-players have been more amorphous collections in the style of beat tapes, Prom King is compact and cohesive, with the album's varied stylistic references (new wave, UK garage, boogie) united through strong guitar melodies and Todd Edwards-ian cobblings-together of tiny vocal samples. 'I slowed some music down and called myself an artist,' DeRobertis sings on lead single 'Can't You See,' acknowledging in his lyrics what is already apparent in the music's tone—he can maintain fidelity to his vision while working in more uptempo, disco-based song structures.

'Ridiculous!' and 'Bounce Is Back' are big groovers that capitalize on jacking hi-hats and hand drumming, respectively, and both have an air of Balearic warmth and smoothness. On the title track, DeRobertis entwines a chorus of unintelligible but expressive samples with his own vocals—what feels like a synthesis of two approaches—and the result is an affecting pattern of build and release. More contemplative sophisti-pop numbers like 'Fall Harder' and 'Affairs' add a realist's breadth of scope: thoughts of past foibles bleed into present-dwelling and dancing.

Prom King is DeRobertis making sense of missed opportunities. His high school did not have a prom king; he has filled the position with an imaginative album of personal and musical revisionism.

After months of careful excavation and meticulous restoration, dj echotree finds his way to ZitStill with a singular artefact. Delving into lost remnants of the spirit world, a gapless collage of found footage, spoken word and otherworldly jazz slowly emerged. A mute yet eloquent testimony, held together by instinct and the steady pulse of the MPC.

Much remains to be uncovered about this entity and its teachings, rooted in beliefs that left no written trace. What is known is its devotion to the human touch, unafraid of imperfection. A form of worship rich in texture, best experienced on hazy afternoons and mist-laden mornings.

Active in London’s electronic underground since the late 80s, Paul Hierophant has long worked in the space between techno, ambient, and dub, preferring atmosphere, tone, and slow-burn tension to obvious dancefloor tricks.

The Elder Gods finds him further out on the fringes of electro, where the synths loom large and the delay and reverb units are given a proper workout. The result is widescreen, ominous, and immersive.

The title track is a monolithic slab of rhythm where corroded synth pressure and ritualistic percussion feel less like a groove than some ancient machine grinding slowly back into life.

Titans stalks forward on a cavernous half-step pulse, all foggy bass weight and fractured metallic vocal echos, like dub techno that has wandered into darker mythological territory and decided to stay there.

The Hydra coils around a lurching low-end spine, its tentacular FX flickering and mutating while the groove stubbornly regenerates.

Works and Days rounds things off with a standout alien vocal loop drifting through pulsing bass and drums, lending the track a meditative feel that works just as well for late-night headphone sessions as it does in the deeper end of a DJ set.

This is an EP for selectors who like their electro expansive, slightly strange, and built for proper sound systems.

Outstanding monimal grooves! In Spanish, Salida means “exit”, but in this EP, it becomes a metaphor for emergence. Not a way out, but a way through. From beneath layered emotions and dormant states, a new force begins to pulse. Textures rise from the underlayer. Grooves fracture silence. Each track is a signal of rebirth, slow, deep, inevitable. The artwork reflects this moment. From cracks of vivid red, new life pushes forward in green. It’s not escape. It’s transformation. This is Salida, the first breath of something real.

Outstanding monimal grooves! In Spanish, Salida means “exit”, but in this EP, it becomes a metaphor for emergence. Not a way out, but a way through. From beneath layered emotions and dormant states, a new force begins to pulse. Textures rise from the underlayer. Grooves fracture silence. Each track is a signal of rebirth, slow, deep, inevitable. The artwork reflects this moment. From cracks of vivid red, new life pushes forward in green. It’s not escape. It’s transformation. This is Salida, the first breath of something real.

Kēpa is built whole, even if life has broken a few bones along the way.

Back when he was a pro skater, he gave everything to the board. Today, he gives that same intensity to the stage, delivering hypnotic cine-concerts where motion, sound, and image blur into one. The only falls left now are the ringing final chords of his guitar — not just an instrument, but an extension of his body.

Fingerpicking is his native tongue. So much so that Kēpa no longer sings — he lets the strings speak. Percussive, alive, essential. This music isn’t about performance, it’s about living: a personal quest, a way to reach others by first going inward. Moving against the current without fighting the wind. Finding breath, essence, and remembering we’re all drifting on a spinning planet, surrounded by forces bigger than us.

It’s easier to look away. Easier to follow noise, fear, or false prophets. Harder — and braver — to truly connect.

Released in late 2025, Hotline Service opened the door, offering a wide-open, spiritual escape. With SOUL WASH SERVICES— produced by Timber Timbre — Kēpa goes further. Warmer, deeper, more focused. The album feels like sunlight on asphalt, a long drive with the windows down, time slowing just enough to let something real surface.

A kindred spirit to Hermanos Gutiérrez, Kēpa plays the role of a modern, pagan preacher — guiding us through a dusty, golden road movie that unfolds entirely inside the listener. His music doesn’t shout; it cleans.

Kēpa does it all: writes, plays, films, edits, mixes. Music becomes image, image becomes music. Nothing is separate, on record or on stage. There’s no excess, no showboating — just an open invitation to slow down, go deeper, aim higher.

Tracks like Solarium and Paradisiac reach the peaks with minimal gear: five strings, a few picks, and total control of touch and space. Listening to Kēpa feels like checking in with yourself — a quiet inner trip shaped by sounds from every corner of the world. Blues, not to feel them, but to leave them behind.

After years devoted to picking, his playing has become something sacred.

And if you let it, it carries you with it.

David Grays ,Nightjar" erscheint als Begleitwerk zur 20-jährigen Jubiläumsausgabe von ,Life in Slow Motion"; eine Sammlung von 19 bisher unveröffentlichten Songs. ,Nightjar" entstand aus denselben Songwriting-Sessions wie ,Life in Slow Motion" und ist ein Schatzkästchen mit klassischen David-Gray-Songs, aber auch experimentelleren Stücken und unerwarteten Wendungen.

Detroit sisters The Jones Girls were a hugely popular part of Philadelphia's PIR stable throughout the 1970's and 80's.
They cut numerous sides for the label aided by the incredible production and arrangements of the infamous Gamble and Huff hit machine.
'Night over Egypt' is surely one of their most enduring, evergreen tracks. As popular today with people as it was on it's 1981 release.
A record that truly transcended genre boundaries and touched people from all walks of life and of all taste persuasions, it is a true soul classic. Often imitated yet never bettered! It's no wonder the 12" has always been sought after, sometimes commanding collectors prices on the used vinyl marketplace. The flipside 'Love don't ever say goodbye' is a sultry, Dexter Wansell produced slow-jam that ticks all the right boxes! One for the lovers out there, pure quiet storm business.
This is a fully legit reissue, made in conjunction with Above Board distribution and Sony music, sourced from their vaults using original source material and remastered and repressed to the highest standard for 2018 and featuring all original 1981 PIR label artwork.
Here's your chance to own yet another essential stone cold classic from the archives!

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

Ten years after their last collaboration, Jacques Duvall and Benjamin Schoos return with Plein Sommeil, a duo album that is at once melancholic, ironic, and tender—a poetic mirror of the fatigue of the modern world.

The legendary lyricist for Lio, Chamfort, and Daho meets the indie pop producer and sonic adventurer of Freaksville, in a generational union as improbable as it is natural.
Between Brussels and Paris, they weave songs about slowness, worn-out love, and resistance through gentleness.

Blending original compositions and delicate covers (The Kinks, Higelin, Daho), the album evokes a sensual and lucid refuge amid the overheating of everyday life.
Recorded with Bertrand Burgalat, The Loved Drones, and lush string arrangements, Plein Sommeil embraces a handcrafted, timeless aesthetic.

Its motto: “Slow business” — a manifesto against the speed and emptiness of contemporary times.

Each song, balancing irony and elegance, celebrates fragility and humanity.

In a sharp-angled, fiercely inventive reflection on the nature of club culture and digital fatigue, Simo Cell and Abdullah Miniawy reunite to deliver their new album, Dying is the internet, to Dekmantel's UFO series.

French producer Simo Cell has blazed a singular path from his dubstep-influenced origins to become a leading light in contemporary leftfield club music, twisting up adventurous rhythms and flamboyant production in pursuit of a perpetual freshness for the floor. Egyptian singer, poet, producer and composer Abdullah Miniawy has become equally omnipresent in the past 10 years, straddling the arts world and leading with his piercing Arabic lyricism while maintaining an eternally curious spirit that leads into open-ended, experimental music from the abstract to the propulsive.

Following up on their 2020 EP for BFDM, Kill Me Or Negotiate, Miniawy describes their sharply focused new album as "a playful prophecy about the triggers of a new global revolution." Cell considers the title, Dying is the internet, to be a mantra about "how the internet lost its soul," becoming "less about sharing ideas and more about surviving in a digital business ecosystem." Deliberately at odds with the reel-ready two-minute attention span of the average social media surfer (i.e. everyone), the pair set out to make an album that takes its time to reveal nuanced ideas and expressions. Rather than one-note despair for the modern malaise, Cell and Miniawy offer a philosophical reminder that this present moment in the human experience is a temporary phase, no matter how overwhelming it feels.

Dying is the internet finds Miniawy experimenting with auto-tune across the record, while Cell has developed his voice design chops and compositional instincts, moving closer to fully realised song structures without losing the fundamental 'clubbiness' of each track. The result is a cohesive, wildly original kind of heavyweight dance music that slings out hooks left right and centre, from Miniawy's laconic trumpet looming through low-slung 'Reels in 360' and 'Travelling In BCC' to the persistent handclaps that bring 'Living Emojis' to life. Miniawy's poetry explores the power of insistent, repeated phrases in a break from his more typically structured form.

Kenyan powerhouse Lord Spikeheart adds extra snarl to stripped-back, slow-burn opener 'I See The Stadium', but otherwise Dying is the internet is purely the work of Miniawy and Cell casting their considerable chops out into unexplored territory. The results are electric, bound together by a consistent economy of sound that burrows into a shroud of bass-heavy minimalism barely masking Cell's incredibly detailed studio flex. Even the beatless flourish of the Miniawy-produced 'Tear Chime' comes loaded with physicality — a sensory rush at the mid-section of the album bookended by some of the most idiosyncratic club music in recent memory.

Both Simo Cell and Abdullah Miniawy have already proved themselves as fearless innovators across different fields. The strength of their partnership lies in their ability to make space for each other while letting their distinctive sonic identities ring loud and true. Dying is the internet has immediacy and physicality to translate over a soundsystem, but its intricacies are purpose-built for repeat visits and contemplation, unveiling hidden dimensions the deeper you dive into it.

Formed by singer SAKKO from tokyo and quickly booked by the hippest clubs in TOKYO nite life area SHIBUYA.

From the same label (FLOWER RECORDS) as JAZZ ROOM hit makers "CRUISIC" (JAZZ CARNIVAL/PACIFIC 707).

The super funky version of the KRAFTWERK mega hit "TRANS EUROPE EXPRESS" with it's freaked out sax and supercool vocals is a special mix by DJ KOCO aka SHIMOKITA who amazed audiences with his turntable skills recently on a UK TOUR.

"AEO" the flipside is a longtime DAVID MANCUSO LOFT CLASSIC and this version has been given the seal of approval by ITALIAN AFROCOSMIC FOUNDER & DJ LEGEND DANIELE BALDELLI.

Six years after his Grammy-nominated LP5, Sascha Ring - aka Apparat - takes a bold dive into the complexities of life with his sixth studio album.



A Hum Of Maybe is detailed, finely crafted, and wonderfully unpredictable. At its core, the record is about love - for himself, his wife, and his daughter - and holding onto it, protecting it, and constantly recalibrating as it is in a constant state of flux. As the title suggests, the songs explore being stuck in between: not a clear yes or no, but A Hum Of Maybe.



Ring elegantly combines the perspectives of an electronic producer and a classical composer, working closely with long-time collaborators Philipp Johann Thimm (cello, piano, guitar) - who also co-wrote and co-produced the record - Christoph “Mäckie” Hamann (violin, keyboard, bass), Jörg Wähner (drums), and Christian Kohlhaas (trombone). The album also features Armenian-American artist KÁRYYN - Apparat’s Mute labelmate - on ‘Tilth’, and Berlin-and Rome-based musician Jan-Philipp Lorenz (aka Bi Disc) on ‘Pieces, Falling’.



A Hum Of Maybe is complex, deeply personal, and embraces a state of limbo, marking an exciting new chapter for Apparat.

If you could go back in time ten years, what would you want to tell yourself? This was a question Khruangbin posed to themselves when approaching the ten-year anniversary of their debut album, the once cult classic, now genre-defining work The Universe Smiles Upon You. “If we could go back and tell ourselves how much was going to happen to us after that record, what would we want to
celebrate?” asked Laura Lee, bassist, vocalist, and founding member of the band. Instead, they thought: “Let’s do it again.”
The Universe Smiles Upon You ii was recorded on January 4-6, 2025, in the same family barn of guitarist Mark Speer, across the
same dates where TUSUY was first conceived ten years earlier. Though the conditions were the same–dirt floor, brutally cold,
minimal sound isolation, all takes live–the songs aren’t. They’re re-approached, some changed more than others, harnessing the lightning-in-a-bottle energy of TUSUY while discovering what would be unique this time around, in this stage of the band’s life.
The result moves like ripples on the water across ten hypnotizing tracks, the barn creating a sense of spaciousness, serenity and creative freedom, nearby wildlife (listen out for the birds on “August Twelve ii”), rattles and creaks of the barn and all. It’s a tapestry of small movements in nuanced arrangements, slowly revealing the new life, stories and character of someone you’ve met again for the first time in ten years.

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

Demetrio Castellucci and Massimo Pupillo present the music of Sleep Technique, a performance by Dewey Dell inspired by the Chauvet cave and its ancient cave paintings.
The music comes to life anew on record, an immersion into the depths of sonic particles, moist electroacoustic rhythms, the repeated forms of speleothems, and the electric bass that scrapes the walls, shaping them into concave or convex surfaces. A voice that moves incredibly slowly, yet is in constant motion, like the millennia-old, unceasing erosion of water.
The album’s journey follows the geography of the cave in reverse, moving from its deepest chamber back to the entrance.

Demetrio Castellucci is a composer and sound designer who has been involved in theater productions, choreography, and film since 2004. Around the same time, he began performing as a DJ, favoring an omnitemporal approach geared toward dance that transcends musical genres. Since 2006, he has been a member of the dance company Dewey Dell, and since 2007, he has been active as Black Fanfare, a maximalist electroacoustic project. He has collaborated on performances by Andreco and Enrico Ticconi/Ginevra Panzetti, as well as on films by Ahmed Ben Nessib, Beatrice Pucci, and Ilaria di Carlo. After living in London and Berlin, he settled in Vilnius, where in 2018 he founded Unarcheology, a digital platform that publishes music and radio programs. He is also active as Airport Gad, an ambient project which, together with Unarcheology, launched its own “Airline Company”: concerts in a flight simulator built from cardboard, where the pilots are also the musicians.

Massimo Pupillo is best known as a founding member of the band Zu, with whom he has released 18 albums and performed over 2,000 live shows worldwide. He has maintained a highly open and multidisciplinary approach that has led him to work with some of the most acclaimed figures in the contemporary art world: South African photographer Roger Ballen, actors Malcolm McDowell and Marton Csokas, Romeo Castellucci and Chiara Guidi of Societas Raffaello Sanzio, American choreographer Meg Stuart, poet Anne Waldman, and Italian poet Gabriele Tinti, among others. He has collaborated live and in the studio with avant-garde musicians and composers such as Alvin Curran, piano duo Katia & Marielle Labèque, and classical virtuosos like Viktoria Mullova and Giovanni Sollima. He has also worked with some of the most influential names in the international rock scene, including Mike Patton, Thurston Moore, Jim O’Rourke (Sonic Youth), Guy Picciotto & Joe Lally (Fugazi), Buzz Osborne (Melvins), and Damo Suzuki (CAN).

In the field of improvised music, he has collaborated with Peter Brötzmann, Toshinori Kondo, Mats Gustafsson, Ken Vandermark, and Tony Buck, among others. Within the experimental music scene, his collaborations include Oren Ambarchi, David Tibet (Current 93), Thighpaulsandra (Coil), Stephen O’Malley (Sunn O))), Abul Mogard, Mick Harris (Scorn), Gordon Sharp (This Mortal Coil), FM Einheit (Einstürzende Neubauten), and many more. In cinema, he composed the score for Kirill Serebrennikov’s film LIMONOV, presented at Festival de Cannes in 2024.