Suche:sound diffusion

A compilation of Hearn Gadbois' tracks, published here and there along the years (1983- 2020). Most of them are home recordings with very little or no diffusion, so this release tries to shed some light on these amazing compositions. A sound related to Hassell's 4th world, but developed in a very personal way (he even designs & makes some of his instruments) that feels different and goes far beyond. Using mostly acoustic instruments, Hearn combines a love of traditional trance/ecstatic rhythms with the sensibilities of an outsider artist, creating a music that is both archaic and post-modern. A really original and rare work, difficult to classify or explain... In Hearn's own words, included in the liner notes:
"The pieces compiled here tend to fall, with some overlap, into a few broad categories as near as I can tell: Mystery Psychedelic Crime Jazz (Tuba City, Flesh of the Spirit), Ayahuasca Hut Bachelor Pad Music (Night, Take the Waters, Wood), or Party Music that just fell from the sky or bubbled up through a crack in the earth (Flown Home, What the Goatherd Heard)"

As a percussionist, composer for dance and film, instrument designer/ builder, session musician and teacher, Gadbois worked with Meredith Monk, Sussan Deyhim, Gabrielle Roth, Yoko Ono, Patti Smith, Suzanne Vega, The Master Musicians of Jajouka, and Wim Wenders, to name but a few.

Russell Haswell and Florian Hecker have both a long history with Mego/Editions Mego. Individual releases have peppered the Mego catalogue since Haswell’s Live Salvage 1997->2000 cd release (MEGO 012) in 2001 and the debut Hecker release IT ISO161975 (MEGO 014) in 1998.

The individual exploration of sonic phenomena by these two practitioners has resulted in both being highly regarded for their uncompromising approach to sound as matter. Russell Haswell and Florian Hecker came together as a collaborative duo with the now-legendary record Blackest Ever Black, somewhat inexplicably, on the classical imprint of Warner Brothers.

In 2025, Hecker and Haswell return with a new album featuring the two-channel edit produced initially for their UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23, performed as a live diffusion across 8-channels at the X100 Festival, Berlin, 2023, celebrating the 100th anniversary of Xenakis' birth.

This record furthers the duo's exploration of Xenakis's UPIC system as the sole instrument. The UPIC is a computer music system that generates sound from visual input. The original intention of the system developed by Xenakis was to make a utopian tool for producing new sounds accessible to all, independent of formal training. One can locate footage of Xenakis and a group of children making drawings for the system in the 70's.

The duo set off experimenting with a diverse array of hand-drawn images to feed the UPIC system including news photographs of disasters and atrocities, "food porn" through to depictions of the natural world and microscopic images of molecular structures (including 'the blackest ever black'). The resulting eccentric audio from these images is claimed by the artists to heighten synaesthesia and is as mysterious as it is baffling.

Throughout UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23 frequency clusters move and morph in the most unusual manner, shifting and stretching into shapes that hint at some kind of magical process. What starts out deceptively simple soon unravels into a large array of sonic mayhem. Symbolic jet planes are shredded by a swarm of insects, a metal bowl howls into the void, a tiny tin toy crawls into a thicket with the resolute aura of a black hole. A burning geyser of laser forms liquid shrapnel. This is sound as an alchemical process, a constant chimerical flow into the netherworld and is the net result of the decades long radical investigations by the two artists involved. UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23 is a direct, rich and rewarding listen for those willing to invest time into the outer limits.

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

Permanent Parts is the second album released by visual artist Katharina Grosse (synthesizer) and musician Stefan Schneider (synthesizer; So Sner, To Rococo Rot). Grosse and Schneider were joined at Galerie Max Hetzler on 29 April 2023, performing as part of the Spectrum without Traces exhibition, by three artists who all generally work within improvised music – Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet), Tintin Patrone (trombone and electronics), and Billy Roisz (noise generator, piezo and mini cymbal). Permanent Parts is an extraordinary set of recordings that inhabits multiple zones at once: within its thirty-five minutes, we can hear the interactions of non-idiomatic collective music making, and the electronic glimmers of electro-acoustics, while, at the same time, the music remains untethered to genre.

This capacity to work within liminal zones makes perfect sense when thinking about both Grosse’s and Schneider’s prior work, whether the energetic diffusions and spatial explorations of Grosse’s artistic practice, or the slippery texturology of Schneider’s recent work with electronics. Khorkhordina, Patrone and Roisz all find their own ways into this dynamic, too, and Permanent Parts feels like an equal exchange of presence and contribution; there are no hierarchies here. This might explain the music’s curious sense of development, where several elements are allowed to exist alongside each other, not in direct contact but in a mode that’s somewhere between carefree layering and unconscious juxtaposition. The musicians are listening, but not just with their ears – their skin, their bodies are hearing, too.

When talking about Permanent Parts, Schneider is careful to place it within contexts that are specific, to some degree, but which allow for difference to blossom. “Although it was recorded live, it somehow was not meant to be a documentation of a live event in the first place. The five piece line up that appears on the record had met for the first time only a few hours before the concert took place.” While it might take a leap of faith for all parties to walk together, and so willingly, into a place of such freedom, of such risk, there is clear sympathy here between the musicians, and a shared appreciation of the immediacies of the situation.

It also throws some of our preconceptions about this music out of the window. “The record does not feel like a document of a performance as the music was not pre-composed and there was no reference,” Schneider continues. “Perhaps it was not even an improvisation?” For Grosse, her musical relationship with Schneider similarly shakes free from expectation: “My sound does not exist without Stefan’s. It is neither written down nor is it improvised. It is instantaneous.” When thinking about the five-piece exploration on Permanent Parts and asked to expand on what each musician brings to the table, she continues, “We all love the thrill of an unknown encounter and we seem to have a need for building connections through the thicket of our voices.”

There’s a curious phrase on the back cover of the album, before the artists are listed: “Wir sind eine Batterie / We are a battery.” This sums up the spirit of Permanent Parts. Schneider recalls that Grosse said this phrase to the musicians at the start of the performance. Grosse explains further, “The figure of the battery referred to our placement in the space building out a small circle facing one another from where the sound could spill into the impressive volume of the gallery.” The battery as an arrangement of similar devices; but I also think of charge, and the conversion of chemical energy, and of fortification. It’s a poetic metaphor that sums up much of the febrile pleasure of the music contained on these Permanent Parts.

– Jon Dale, Melbourne

NAKID presents the first album in years from Max Loderbauer (Sun Electric) and Tobias Freund’s cult Non Standard Institute. Delving deep into the aether with a double LP - almost an hour and a half in length - featuring ruined, vaporous and engrossing ambient variations on a theme.

Planing axes between iridescent new age ambient, sublime folk and avant-classical, to miasmic drone and plangent shoegaze; ‘A Day or Two’ charts the Non Standard Institute’s first actions in 6 years and serves as a compelling reminder of their intuitive work in abundance. Expanding and contracting their sound across 18 parts, they arc from heaving, oddly-tuned drones to smoggy, surreal soundscapes, bringing a wealth of fine-tuned instincts to the table. With Max Loderbauer’s 35+ years as Berlin ambient pioneer with Sun Electric, jams with Villalobos, and roles in Vladislav Delay Quintet and the Moritz von Oswald Trio, he’s matched by Freund’s 40 years of deep engineering expertise embedded in the experimental industrial and techno trenches.

The melancholy, Satie-laced piano meditations that grounded 2018's '5863' are gone, and the human touch that's been present since their very first collaborations is placed under the microscope, enhanced by their use of the Haken Continuum Fingerboard, a gestural synth that was developed to open up new modes of playing. Loderbauer's experience with the piano helps him make the most of the instrument's touch-sensitive 3D surface, while Freund uses two multi-channel loopers, piping the sounds through his arsenal of pedals.

The 18 tracks are billed as "unplanned atmospheres" that arc from sombre, drone-heavy material to humid, tape-saturated imaginary-island jams such as 'Listening To Cells' and 'Are You One Of Them'. On the latter, the duo work patiently, letting dusted string plucks tumble across each other while warbling pads hum below, bending like flutes. On 'Unlikely Events', anxious didgeridoo-like wails are ruptured by environmental rattles, before ominous voices lead us into a pocket of industrialised resonance. In time, the skies open up and the sounds morph into pastoral song, the drone blurring into hopeful pads almost as lucid and eloquent as AFX's 'SAW Vol. II', with sonorous synths that float over formless strings. Reflective, cinematic arrangements for flute and silvery ambient give way to diffusions of denser, resonant polychromatics and pucker up in outernational, alien ambient impulses recalling Connor Camburn jamming with dirashe folk pipes.

“But into my miserable brain, always concerned with looking for noon at two o’clock" - Charles Baudelaire (1869)

The Foreign Department is the second album by Astrel K, the solo project helmed by Stockholm-based British ex-pat, Rhys Edwards. Those already familiar with Edwards’ work will likely know him for fronting the cultishly great Ulrika Spacek, and given he operates as the principal songwriter in both projects, much of the same hallmarks of his cathartic, elliptical songwriting are present in Astrel K. Nonetheless, The Foreign Department feels like a rubicon moment of sorts, and the album that Edwards has unconsciously been working towards his entire creative life.

As a title, The Foreign Department offers an instructive guide for the listener, framing a life-in-transition/artist-in-exile document that maps two impromptu moves in twelve months for its songwriter: the first from London in pursuit of a relationship, the second between homes in Stockholm as that decade long relationship then suddenly dissolved. Indeed, diffusion, dissolution and reconstitution feel like appropriate touchstones for its recurring themes. Written amidst the flux of two states, at once isolated from home and then any established emotional anchor, the resulting eleven tracks came to represent a precognitive search for shifting identity and with it forming an unwittingly biographical record. It's commendable and somewhat telling that during this shake up, Edwards somehow landed upon his most realised and original work.

With a former life stripped away, there emerged an opportunity to reinvent a sense of self through art, now not just as a writer, but a composer also. Developing the confidence to arrange songs in ways he'd previously considered off-limits, while also taking cues from the opulent string and brass arrangements of records like Mercury Rev's Deserters' Songs and Death of A Ladies Man by Leonard Cohen, Edwards enlisted a range of performers to bring to life the mini-symphonies forming in his head. Perhaps it's inevitable that an album written while facing the consequences of being alone would eventually ossify around the process of bringing people together.

For all its troubled origins, The Foreign Department is a remarkably warm sounding collection. Edwards' lyrics are typically knotty and neurotic, dancing around the poetry of quarter-life anxiety, but the music itself is often joyous and even uplifting, the combination expressing that neat duality of melancholic euphoria. Edwards sings variously of crises, "torrid pieces of art", of "houses on fire" and not "having the guts for it", yet these troubling sentiments are framed by seemingly incongruous swelling strings, chirping horns or motorik percussion, creating that sense of pushing forward or floating above, of wrapping your troubles in dreams, a salve for the moments when you get a bit too much for yourself.

Lead single, 'Darkness At Noon', likely captures this all best. Named for the French idiom "midi a quatorze heures", the maddening idea of attempting the impossible for the sake of some greater possibly pointless cause, it directly grapples with the opposing notions of wanting and not wanting, of being here and being there at the same time. The conflicting and impossible self. It’s something Edwards addresses in the song at perhaps his most open, opining, “I know I want to be seen, but I hate most of what comes out of me”. And yet here is, putting it all out in the open and on the line, the dialectics of his enlightenment up on show.

Danielle Boutet’s P »Pièces« is a mysterious artifact of Quebecois marginalia, self-released in 1985. Moving from languid ennui to high drama, »Pièces« is a dreamy gestalt, an album that borders Chanson, spoken-word, jazz noir, and minimalism, conjured from the chasm between acoustic and electronic realms. »Pièces« allows us a window into the highly intimate songcraft and compositional skill of an artist who longed to linger not in the public eye, but in relation with others and the world around her.

Born in Quebec City, Boutet studied music at the University of Montreal, where she focused on composition and percussion, before becoming involved in Montreal’s feminist and lesbian art scene. Primarily written, performed, and recorded by Boutet, with voice, guitar work, and technical assistance by Sylvie Gagnon, Pièces was created during a paradigm shift in home recording. Originally composed for the piano, Boutet and Gagnon utilized a consumer-friendly Tascam 4-track Portastudio and versatile Yamaha DX-7, alongside guitar, bass, marimba, and the human voice, to expand and contemporize the original composition’s scope.

Inspired by prog rock and British poet and musician Anne Clark, »Pièces« translates Boutet’s influence by moving between sunny, wistful fairytale and dark, wintry dirge. Filled with longing marimba, vertiginous, startling synth pads, and folk guitar, each track on Pièces offers a wholly unique proposition. Some are modal and rife with the ethereal psychological tension of a sci-fi soundtrack, while others are more like entering a smoke-laced lounge, the entertainer embodying seduction.

With the sprechgesang of artists like Serge Gainsbourg, there is an intense intimacy to Boutet’s delivery, sometimes as if she is performing for an audience of one. As one lyric goes, translated to English from French: “Like holograms/ Images from a world/ That inhales souls/ And exudes drama.” Another song contains an excerpt from The Tao of Physics: “The eastern sages specify clearly that they do not identify an ordinary void, but rather, a void having an infinite creative potential.”

To English-language audiences, the album’s title, »Pièces«, might seem to simply refer to the eleven different pieces. The title can also, of course, refer to parts of a larger whole, but Boutet is keen to point out that there is also another meaning: In French, a pièce is a room. On the cover of the original cassette, Boutet is seen sitting on a chair, alone in an empty apartment, a cable snaking at her feet. Listening to »Pièces« is like entering eleven different rooms: whether a study encased in shadow, a greenhouse left to wither in an eternal frost, or a divine nave.

Boutet sold a few dozen copies around Montreal, a scene mostly occupied by the new wave explosion de rigueur, but the inclusion of Pièces in the 1987 issue of Ladyslipper—the North Carolina-based mail order catalog that championed women musicians of all calibers and careers—led to more exposure throughout North America. “In the catalog,” Boutet says, “they included it in the New Age section, but I was, and still am, aware that this album is relatively unclassifiable.”

Boutet would release one more album, titled Musiques Urbaines, before getting pulled in the direction of interdisciplinary art and theory. “Although I never stopped making music, I lost all interest in public diffusion or performance,” Boutet says. Despite her departure from performance and publicly releasing music, she left behind a strange and enthralling document of Montreal’s 1980s feminist fringe, an aural document of the historic moment when self-recorded music and its practical potential became a prismatic reality.

Danielle Boutet’s Pièces arrives February 16, 2024 as part of uncommon¢ (“uncommon sense”), an open-ended, serialized endeavor from Freedom to Spend that provides new meaning for rarefied recordings from music’s outermost fringe.

36's new album Reality Engine explores "the blossoming dynamics of artificial intelligence and the ever-changing definition of reality" on Past Inside The Present and does so with a continuation of his richly melodic sound while also evolving into new realms. The sheer beauty of these sounds is enough to uplift and energise, with chords ascending to the heavens on the opener 'Imagine The Truth' and then rolling out to infinite horizons on 'Axiom Haze'. 'Reality Engine' suspends you amongst the clouds and 'Beyond The Hyperreal' is a perfect marriage of immersive and organic sounds and hints of digital augmented reality engines. A sublime album, for sure.

With Observatories, we see longtime Dauw-collaboraters Ian Hawgood (Home Normal) and Craig Tattersall (the humble bee) joining forces. If their debut on IIKKI was still rooted in a dialog with photographical work, the duo now offers a more autonomous work. Both being experts in the use of tape in their productions, it’s no surprise that sending loops back and forth was the starting point of this fourth album. On »autumn diffusion – winter seclusion’« we hear 2 longform pieces consisting of several tape-collages in which harmonium, voice and electronics weave together and form structures on which crackling piano sounds can do their magic. A new episode in their growing catalog and one which truly displays the strength of their collaboration.

Orpheu the Wizard has a magic touch at finding records that fall between the gaps in music - oddities, curios, the weird, the wonderful. But that's just half the trick. It takes a sensitive and selective ear to construct a coherent, accessible narrative from them. So you get DJs who can play for the crowd and "selectors" adept at mining the black gold. In Orpheu, you've got yourself someone who can do both. On a festival main stage, he can keep it weird enough for the heads. In an audiophile setting, he'll keep the flow.

These skill sets come into play on the fifth The Sound of Love International compilation. Jumping between genres, decades, continents, the truly rare, and many B-side cuts that passed you by. But never eclecticism for its own sake; this collection makes sense. Orpheu never loses sight of the listener - he's a friendly and knowledgeable guide to the cosmic outer reaches.

He opens his account with the warm, psychedelic electronics of Drawing Future Life, with ‘1969’. Tucked away on the B-side of an LP of ambient/trance hailing from Fukuoka, this is a very pretty piece of music on a truly rare piece of wax. Then, leapfrogging a couple of decades and timezones, we have Rutuu Poiss' "IHATSIN." Off-kilter, experimental sounds with an endearing melodic hook, followed up by the with lethargic ambient breakbeat of Digital Distortion's "Mellow Bug".

On the B-side, things start to get lively. French Audacity featuring Valerie's "That Fine One" is Gallic garage that has simultaneously got it hugely wrong and mas­sively right. Owing as much to new wave as New York house, this is propulsive and quirky dance music at its finest. Next, we're on a ferry over the channel for DJ Spike and "Gaps In Space." Up-tempo electro with a fondness for sampled vocal cut-ups, like its predecessor.

lnterdance's "Kurz" (another B-side) is the perfect segway - house from 1990 with that sweet, slightly goofy naivete. Things move toward the gnarly with Bad Behaviour and "Living on Smoke," a lesser-known cut on the legendary Atmosphere records. The tempo edges upward on "Systematic Input" by Frequency, hectic hardcore techno that still retains a lightness of touch.

"Lushes" by Diffusion spins us off into space, filigree techno with an emotive trance edge. The chiming intro of "Blue to Be Happy" by MFA lulls us into a sense of false security before massively putting the boot in with a pounding kick drum, bassline, and arpeggiation. From there, it's a sharp left turn into the urban psychedelic dub of R.I.P's "E.O Pan" on cult label Digi Dub.

Sticking with UK sound system music but taking it down a notch, Orpheu closes proceedings with a leftfield reggae excursion from the master of the mixing desk, Mad Professor’s"Oh Hell".

It's a compilation as varied as the many moods and grooves of Love International itself - from sun-dappled olive groves to moments deep in the strobes. This is serious music for party freaks or party music for serious freaks. Tisno is calling.

Abstrakce recover this lost gem recorded in 1999 and published by Keliehor himself in a very short-run CD named "Create Music", which had almost no diffusion.

An outstanding collection of exotic tracks with a wide range of influences from primitive cultures all over the world. An unexplored region where the Minimalism concepts developed by Steve Reich, La Monte Young, or Terry Riley and renewed by Midori Takada meet Jon Hassell's 4th world ideas.

You will find here repetitive patterns that evolve and transform the sound space, unlikely instruments gathered together in a perfectly harmonic way, making flow an unusual melodic sense when the uncommon combinations of these instruments interact with one another. Simple instruments, yet exotic, primitive sound makers with complex personalities, timeless sound treasures unchanging a hundred years. Crude or sophisticated, most of the instruments, compel us to listen to them. A more flexible and wider range of tonality is discovered by limiting the number of instruments that play together and choosing those whose tones and harmonics resonate together.

The record results from a didactic project for nursery and primary school environments while searching for ideas to guide children in following the details of music. The music architectures are often transparent, even repetitive, but the culminative effect soon becomes more than that. These pieces are aural landscapes for dreams and adventures, doorways to imaginative worlds.

The Artists:

Jon Keliehor and Signy Jakobsdottir performed together in Seattle, Venezuela, and Scotland. During their stay in Seattle, both had studied gamelan music with Gamelan Pacifica under the direction of Jarrad Powell. After returning to Scotland, they continued to study and perform with Gamelan Naga Mas, in Glasgow, in projects directed by dhalang Joko Susilo, dancer/director Nyoman Wenten, and Professor Matthew Issac Cohen.

In Scotland, they created adult and children's workshops under the banner of Luminous Music. Preceding the formation of Luminous Music, Keliehor had worked as percussionist and composer with contemporary dance companies, both in London and Seattle. Following on studies in percussion music at Dartington College of the Arts, Signy moved to Seattle to begin work with Jon. The partnership that ensued brought them to Caracas, Costa Rica, Brazil and Spain to create music for the dance company DanzaHoy. In 1996, they returned to Glasgow, and continued to work together at the newly created Luminous Music Studios. Signy's involvement with musicians/groups has continued beyond this to include genres in Scottish/Celtic traditions, in Jazz, as well as music innovations of her own design.

Long out-of-print release available digitally for the first time. Extensive notes by a local writer in English and French. Previously unpublished family photos. Urbanized traditional music at a dance-floor-friendly tempo. The very definition of an "Awesome Tape From Africa". Roger Bekono made a deep mark in the contemporary history of Cameroonian music through the four-on-the-floor, ribald intensity of bikutsi. The Ewondo-language dance-pop style that forms an undulating tapestry of interlocking triplet rhythmic interplay came to international prominence in the European "world music" scene as the 90s began. But the relentless sound of bikutsi developed in Yaoundé at the hands of Bekono and many others, as it developed from a village-based singing style performed mostly by women into a cosmopolitan music force that rivaled the popularity of established musics like Congolese rhumba, merengue and makossa. With his unique—some say suave—voice, Bekono contributed much over a period of more than 10 years as part of the evolution of this traditional rhythm-turned-urban dance movement. Bekono worked with legendary producer Mystic Jim, who had built a prolific home studio along with a crack team of musicians. They joined as part of the production of his self-titled album, which became known locally as "Jolie Poupée," the name of the album's lead single and most popular song. For "Jolie Poupée" Mystic Jim programmed the kick or bass drum, adding effects to have a heavier bass. Overall the album represented a new level of finesse and professionalism for his second release. In the middle of 1989, Jolie Poupée was released by the label Inter Diffusion System and aggressively hit the radio, discos and national television. The music video for the title track was on loop on TV. It felt like everyone was talking about it, even artists in adjacent music scenes like makossa. The album came out on vinyl and cassette and remains Bekono's best-selling recording to this day. With Jolie Poupée Bekono finally made an impact outside Cameroon as the record captured listeners in some Central African countries like Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Republic of Congo and Sao Tome & Principe. In these countries, we find the Fang or Mfan people (also known as Ekang), Bantu-speaking ethnic groups that are also found in Cameroon. This umbrella language group includes the language in which bikutsi is mainly sung. Most of Bekono's songs are in French, Ewondo (of which Beti is a dialect) and Pidgin. The four songs on Jolie Poupée are all considered bikutsi classics. On September 15, 2016, Bekono died of a long illness at the age of 62. In the wake of his passing the media published a wave of tributes, thanking him for what he did for Cameroonian music. He was an admired musician, songwriter and guitarist, and some of his old colleagues and some of the new generation of performers showered Bekono with vibrant tributes via social media, many of which noting something to the effect of: "The artist dies but his works remain."

The music on this long-awaited solo vinyl album by legendary tape artist Jérôme Noetinger was recorded live in the studio with no overdubs. Signals were sent through tube broadcast monitors and picked up with room microphones. Produced by Tobias Levin. Cover by Meeuw.

Long-time touchstone of international experimental music presents his monolithic (and first) solo vinyl »Sur Quelques Mondes Étranges« on Felix Kubin’s Gagarin Records. Jérôme Noetinger is known to most for the audio-visual trio Cellule d’Intervention Metamkine, alongside his countless recorded & live collaborations, compositions for radio & stage, and breathtaking multi-channel diffusions in the acousmatic tradition.

Discovering the ReVox B77 tape machine as his tool for live electro-acoustic music in 1987, Noetinger has doggedly investigated his instrument over 35 years, establishing him as a vital contemporary composer/performer of the medium. His work is radical and interrogatory, using a pan-historical array of analogue devices to construct soundworlds which sidestep digital monochrome, landing in a galaxy of simmering malfunction, dynamic physicality & rhythmic debris. Programming Le 102 in Grenoble for over a decade, as well as directing Metamkine distribution for over three, his encyclopaedic knowledge of manifold sonic traditions is on display here; unified by a staunch discipline, impressive dedication and flat rejection of empty trends.

The results synthesise his tireless timbral research into 11 striking sonic investigations which combine modern studio possibilities with years of performance experience worldwide. An ominous malaise hovers over proceedings; yet it never feels nihilistic, presenting solutions which electrify the listener with ecstatic discovery. The perceptual orchestration therein - from throwing our ears right against the body of the tape machine to flinging them into cavernous space alive with the aurally strange - is both delirious & calming. Noetinger is all too aware things are bad, but his drive for discovery and joyous belief in music somehow coruscates brilliantly through contemporary gloom.

Meticulously recorded & produced with Tobias Levin in Hamburg, Sur quelques mondes étranges presents a detailed & rich vocabulary both real & unreal: gesture & repetition, structure & collapse, familiar & uncanny all dance with each in the most pumping discothèque concrète in this universe. This is a powerful and exacting statement from an elegant composer & extraordinary musician who has humbly dedicated his life to his practice.

– Anthony Pateras

Hannah Peel’s latest work "Fir Wave" contains re-interpretations of the original music of the 1972 KPM series featuring Delia Derbyshire and the Radiophonic Workshop.



The new album, a sonic shimmer of textures and pulses that switches between raw atmospheric edges and environments, arrives with a fascinating history. As Peel explains, “The specialist library label KPM, gave me permission to reinterpret the original music of the celebrated 1972 KPM 1000 series: Electrosonic, the music of Delia Derbyshire and the Radiophonic Workshop.” This process of re-generation and finding fresh inspiration in pioneering, experimental electronics from the early 1970s is at the core of the album. Peel has made connections and new patterns that mirror the Earth’s ecological cycles through music. Peel explains, “I’m drawn to the patterns around us and the cycles in life that will keep on evolving and transforming forever. Fir Wave is defined by its continuous environmental changes and there are so many connections to those patterns echoed in electronic music - it’s always an organic discovery of old and new.” As Delia Derbyshire revealed in 2000 to BBC sound engineer, journalist and academic Jo Hutton: “I like new things that don’t seem new . . . as though they’ve always been there.” Known more recently for curating and presenting on BBC Radio 3’s Night Tracks, the Northern Irish Emmy-nominated composer and producer’s work is ambitious and forward-looking, adapting and re-inventing new genres and hybrid musical forms.



Recent albums include the solo electronic and pop work of Awake But Always Dreaming, which became an ode to her grandmother’s mind as she lived with dementia; the electronic ruralism of Chalk Hill Blue, an album recorded with the poet Will Burns; and the space and the unparalleled vastness of Mary Casio: Journey to Cassiopeia, scored for synthesisers and a 30 piece colliery brass band. In 2019 she composed and recorded the soundtrack for Game of Thrones: The Last Watch which earned her an Emmy nomination for ‘Outstanding Music Composition For A Documentary Series Or Special (Original Dramatic Score)’.

Bristol-based trip hop trio Jabu this week announced details of their second album. ‘Sweet Company’ will be released on November 20th via the group’s own do you have peace? imprint.

Sweet Company is the second album by Jabu. Where their first LP, Sleep Heavy, was an unflinching exploration of grief, dark and disembodied, Sweet Company’s deep, sedative soul feels like more of a lovers’ outing: optimistic, becalmed, looking outwards as well as inwards, and longing for the kind of human connections where ego and self-consciousness might dissolve. It is perhaps also an exhortation to love and accept yourself, to recover a lost innocence and peace – that paradise which has always been lost. Released via their own do you have peace? label, Sweet Company is on the one hand a very intimate and private-sounding work - the sound of life played out in a room, a bubble, a home, a head. The rhythms of everyday domesticity: listening to the plants, cars in the street, voices through the wall…. going to work, not going to work, sleeping heavy or not sleeping at all. Wavering on the brink of a revelation, of something just beyond the material world, while you wait for the kettle to boil. The core Jabu trio of producer Amos Childs and vocalists Jasmine Butt and Alex Rendall is present and correct. Sweet Company has theexhilarating sweep and confidence of a collaboration between people who trust and understand each other implicitly, and, secure in that knowledge, are able to give the absolute best of themselves to us. As before, Jasmine’s voice is a textural, painterly instrument, layered and blurred into abstraction, resisting the limits of language; the songs she sings on are portals into vast internal landscapes where the normal rules of gravity are suspended, every sound is smothered in a cathedral-like resonance, and you're both fearful and hopeful that you might never find your way back out again. Alex takes a more narrative, confessional and no less engaging pop tack: as on the gauzy, decelerated 2-step of ‘Lately’, with his masochistic, self-mocking entreaties to “be cruel to me … I like it when you make a fool of me”. Childs has a true hip-hop fiend's ear for a striking sample, and how to loop it to most hypnotic and rapturous effect, but here takes things to ever more powerfully uncanny and auteurish places, drawing inspiration from the voidal bliss-outs of shoegaze (AR Kane’s amniotic dream-pop epic 69 is one influence cited) and the space-time disturbances of dub, commanding both a raindrops-on-cobwebs delicacy and an immense, oceanic pressure. His productions seem to resist linear progression - instead they move by a kind of unstoppable diffusion, like weeds reclaiming an unkempt garden, or alien flora patterning the sea-floor and coral-caves of the subaquatic level of a computer game which may exist only in your, or his, imagination. Perhaps it's Daniela Dyson, the British-Afro-Colombian artist who contributes her vivid, energising poetic mysticism to two tracks, who best sums up Sweet Company's ambition and effect: “Me quiero perder en los momentos tan puros en su esencia que Las Horas mismas se detienen para ser testigo de nuestro amor” (I want to lose myself in the moments so pure in their essence / that The Hours themselves stop to bear witness to our love…). For a precious half an hour, we're invited to celebrate the smallness of our lives - and the limitless grandeur which that smallness contains. When it ends, we step back from the brink but things aren’t quite the same anymore: we’re haunted by what we briefly almost knew.

Martina Lussi's second album fuses together disparate sound sources with a disorienting
quality that reflects the modern climate of dispersion and distraction. The Lucerne, Switzerland- based sound artist released her debut album 'Selected Ambient' on Hallow Ground in 2017, and now comes to Latency with a bold new set of themes and processes.

The range of tools at her disposal spans field recordings, processed instrumentation, synthesised elements and snatches of human expression. The guitar is a recurring figure, subjected to a variety of treatments from heavy, sustained distortion to clean, pealing notes. Elsewhere the sound of sports crowds and choral singing merge, and patient beds of drones and noise melt into the sounds of industry and mechanics. The track titles manifest as a compositional game of deception complete with innuendos, empty phrases and claims - flirtations with perfume names and ironic assertions.

From the volatile geopolitical climate to the changing nature of music consumption in the face of streaming and digital access, 'Diffusion is a Force' is a reflection on fractured times where familiar modes and models change their meaning with the ever-quickening pace of communication.

If you check the credits of The Rolling Stones' Goats Head Soup LP from 1973 you'll find a certain "Pascal" listed on the percussion section. That is none other than Los Angeles based artist Nicolas Pascal Raicevik (1933-1994), aka 107-34-8933, aka Head, aka Nik Pascal, aka Nik Raicevic. Besides his hitting the bongoes on the Stones album, Nik was a great artist on his own, both as a painter and as a musician. As a musician, he was a pioneer in the use of synthesizers, preceeding the Berlin school by some years when his Head LP was released on on Buddah in 1970. Buddah probably saw in Head the opportunity to cash in some money from the remains of the psychedelic scene - the three tracks on the LP are named after drugs used in the late sixties. The sounds, however, are accomplished works that show Raicevic as one of the most interesting pioneers in the use of synths. The album probably didn't do too well, since Buddah didn't renew the contract with Raicevic, who instead took his own way releasing his works on his very own Narco Records and Tapes label. Between 1968 and 1975 Narco would issue 4 LPs credited either to Nik Raicevic (Beyond The End... Eternity) or Nik Pascal (The Sixth Ear, Magnetic Web and Zero Gravity) plus one credited to 107-34-8933 (Numbers, which is in fact the same LP as Buddah's Head, albeit with different cover art). Copies of these LPs came with an ironic sticker over the shrinkwrap that read "Do not listen to this LP if you are stoned".

Nik's last album, Zero Gravity (Narco NR123) came under the Nik Pascal name and had a fantastic side long piece on the title track which reminisces of the works of Cluster. B side features four tracks that also bear some Conrad Schnitzler reminiscences. This was to be Nik's last LP before he would sell all his synths to ex car racer and future electronic/ambient music star Steve Roach.

Besides his musical explorations, Nik was also an interesting painter. His paintings are auctioned from time to time, and are consciousness expanding works influenced by abstract cubism and surrealism, some kind of Salvador Dalí on drugs exploring the outter and inner space. All the artwork on the sleeves of his LPs is done by himself. Spacey landscapes and psychedelic colours that fit perfectly to the music they contain.

"Nik Raicevic's music is at the intersection of radical psycho-electronic weirdness and kraut kosmische music (in particular the scifi-hypno-minimal modules of Conrad Schnitzler in Grun, Rot and Blau). It presents mega epic & tripped out electronic improvisations.

"This is an absolute must for collectors and fans of visceral, neurotic soundscapes."

"As far as late-60s / early-70s American Bedroom' Electronic Music goes, these LPS have to be among the first transmissions from this sector, made all the more attractive when coupled with Raicevic's alien topographIes - the covers are high-color portrayals of Venusian lanes, knotted growths, & future-past architecture in a style you might equate with Vintage' sci-fi pulp-novel covers - & copious Downer' sentiment. This music is imbued with a sort of lonely, anti-social sensibility that's about as far as you can get from the Academic' Early Electronic vector. I will say that if the Steve Birchall, Cellutron & the Invisible, and/or Pythagoron™ seed your garden, this will likely do the same."

Never reissued before on vinyl format, the Wah Wah reissue features original sleeve artwork made of paintings and drawings by Nik himself, and reproduction of the famous ironic "Do not listen if you are stoned" sticker. Limited edition, 500 copies only.

Undefined is back and extending the legend saga with the highly experienced, creative genius Todd sines.
Todd began creating music in the late 80's, ranging from post-punk and industrial, to techno and house. While digging through his material on Discogs, one can easily notice the great variety of sounds he has developed throughout the years, using multiple aliases like .xtrak and Enhanced.

Todd kicks off this EP with 'Coast', easily recognizable by it's complicated drum patterns, vocal snippets and deepness. Shcaa did an amazing job on the remix as well, using some of Todd's elements to form the core of a true minimal pumper. The breaks are scary as hell and will certainly result in a perfect dark atmosphere on underground dance floors.

On the flipside Todd again shows diversity, as he delivers Throwback and Waves of love. Both of them are house oriented and have energetic acid basslines, fitting together perfectly.