Cerca:sound process

XKatedral Anthology Series II (An Anthology Of Slowly Evolving Timbral Music), featuring exclusive music from Kali Malone, Jessica Ekomane, Mats Erlandsson, Theodor Kentros, Wilma Hultén, and Maria W Horn.

"XKatedral Anthology II is the second instalment in a series of archival releases dedicated to presenting music by composers affiliated with XKatedral working within the realm of slowly evolving harmonic and timbral music. This double-vinyl set contains an array of pieces dating from 2018 - 2020. This collection of pieces focuses on the use of synthetic sound and algorithmic composition languages as tools for precise work within the realm of spectral exploration. In addition to this, the electronic instrumentation in many of the pieces is augmented by acoustic instruments.

The first piece on side A is Kali Malone’s Music for Low Quartet. This piece is an adaptation of the composition “Rose Wreath Crown” originally released on The Sacrificial Code in 2019. In this iteration, the music is scored for two double basses played by Vilhelm Bromander and Zach Rowden, and sine tone electronics performed by Malone herself. The recording of this piece was made at EMS in 2019.

Closing side A is Jessica Ekomane’s ‘First Light’. This computer music piece focuses exclusively on digital sound, layering razor sharp synthetic textures into an otherworldly dynamic weave. The music heard here is a reworked version of a piece originally commissioned by Semibreve in 2020.

Side B contains the work ‘Hands Melt In The Sun’ by Mats Erlandsson. This composition is built from electronically processed tuned zithers and synthetically generated tones arranged in a series of chordal inversions over a sustained fundamental tone. This music, written as a love-letter to the localized drone tradition of Stockholm in the years 2008-2012, was composed and recorded in seven days while in residence at Ställbergs Gruva in Bergslagen, in the summer of 2018.

Opening the second half of the collection is Rough Draft v.7 by Theodor Kentros. Kentros’ compositional practice usually combines acoustic and electronic source material and in this piece he molds the sound of the Buchla 200 and a collection of recorded wind instruments into a molten mass of sound. In its original form, this music was presented as a multichannel immersive work and even in the current stereo configuration it retains some of that enveloping sense of depth.

The second piece on side B, Inertia, is by Wilma Hultén, who makes her debut on record here. An exclusively synthetic piece, Inertia utilizes internal digital feedback in a sealed synthetic system to manifest a harmonic field that swells and abates throughout the length of the piece, interspersed by small gestural elements.

Closing Anthology II is Maria W Horn's work ‘Dies Irae’ for female vocal quartet, pitched glass and synthesis. ‘Dies Irae’ uses a modified form of traditional tonal harmonic language to invoke an uncanny and restless middle ground between the classical western polyphonic vocal tradition and contemporary electronic music. The version heard here is a live recording from Eric Ericssonhallen in Stockholm on May 30th 2020. Performing the piece here are the vocalists Katarina Henryson, Lisa Holmgren, Vilma Ogenblad and Paula Wegmann, as well as Maria herself on glass and electronics."

Saxophonist, producer and composer Brian Allen Simon explores darker hues, transposing waking and altered states under his studio veil Anenon. On the deeply evocative new album 'Dream Temperature', he shifts electronic processing to the foreground, introducing digitized wind instruments and unworldly atmospherics, not heard since his innovating mid-late 2010s output.

A longtime Los Angeles resident, born and raised, Brian Allen Simon has expressively operated under the moniker Anenon, releasing the highly revered 'Petrol' (2016), 'Tongue' (2018) and the viscerally beautiful 'Moons Melt Milk Light' (2023), in a line of unwavering musical dialogues. While the penultimate album was a deliberate, reductive, entirely acoustic detour that was born out of a want to unplug, 'Dream Temperature' sees Brian primed with a newly discovered wind synthesizer as his central compositional tool, alongside acoustic piano and tenor saxophone. The entirety of the album's electronics are triggered by Brian's lungs, generating otherworldly synths modulated by expressive breath control, channelled through the laptop as the core processing chamber for added textural components and field recordings.

A free floating and heavy emotional resonance marks 'Dream Temperature' from beginning to end, invoking the feeling of waking up, still heavy from a night of half-remembered dreams, and continuing one's day in this state. Simon maps out the album's spatial voice early on the statement title track, a deep, yet compact cut, generated from digital saxophone rasps that whistle by in close proximity, along with haze filled textures and sub bass. There is a sonic oscillation of urban grit and pastoral drift throughout as tracks pass by like introspective thoughts, fueling both a tense and ethereal quality that underpins the album. Interluding solo and part-solo piano improvisations 'Last Sun 1' and '2' are positioned adjacent to the buffering digital soundscapes. Their softer, still processed timbres pierce the melancholic exterior, offering a contrasting tenderness that could echo the grace of Ry?ichi Sakamoto, the spiritualist rigor of ECM's Keith Jarrett and a touch akin to Aphex Twin's piano miniatures. 'Nulle Part 1+2' signals the first appearance of an acoustic wind instrument, as tenor saxophone flourishes are juxtaposed against noisy drones, all shouting at the void, with notes resurfacing like lost digital data.

The album was recorded at home during either sunset or nocturnal hours between September of 2024 and October of 2025, a period in which Brian found himself craving more lengthy and intimate studio time as he searched for more pronounced textural qualities amidst his new sonic ambitions. 'When The Light Appears, Boy' shows further evidence of this deeper universe, revealing a grittier edge as the album's essential blueprint is sonically inked. A sprawling expanse of wind synths rhythmically encircle the listener before a dreamy, ghostly ambience blankets 'Toyama'. The sound is evocative of the productions of post dubstep era luminaries such as Burial or the productions of HTRK's Nigel Yang. More isolating and enveloping than the previous all acoustic record, this is music both disorienting and yet warmly inviting all at once. A sonic diarist at heart, personal field recordings were also taken from Sardinia, Japan, Big Sur and LA which intersect at unexpected moments throughout the album's 31-minute play time.

'Dream Temperature' is a vital coalescence of both Simon's electronic and acoustic practices with repositioned electronics akin to earlier works, both haunting and elegant, yet still profoundly personal. Simon continuously resonates as an experimental outlier treading an enthralling, non-linear musical path. This music resolutely glows with an unknowing aura, like an untapped energy source waiting to be discharged.

Artist and multi-instrumentalist Flaer looks to the landscape to explore pastoral melancholy on debut release, Preludes. It is released in a second edition black vinyl, with an alternate cover artwork.

Ensconced in his family home in rural Leicestershire in the early months of 2020, painter and musician Realf Heygate (b. 1994) picked up his childhood cello for the first time in several years and began to play. Setting himself parameters to only record onto 4-track tape with acoustic instruments – cello, piano and acoustic guitar – he assembled a suite of instrumental compositions that form the basis of Preludes, his debut album as Flaer and the inaugural release on Odda Recordings.

Channelling the tension and unease between the pastoral idyll of the English countryside and the darkness which lurks beneath the surface, the mini-album draws inspiration from the analogue aesthetic of 1970s folk horror films, weaving field recordings of birdsong, church bells and the natural environment into chimerical melodies that reflect on Heygate’s childhood experiences of rural England.

“It was really important not to isolate the sound from its environment,” he explains, describing the compositional and recording process as “site-specific”. Developed over a series of intuitive musical enquiries, the mini-album’s uncanny quality emerges from combining raw demo takes with overdubs of almost orchestral grandeur.

Heygate points to the final track as indicative of the work as a whole: “‘Follow’ really is the mantra for the release and embodies the practical approach I was taking to music making: not to force the music but see where it takes you.”

As a painter, Heygate’s practice takes artefacts through sequences of reproduction that embrace the fluctuating materiality of the copy. Since obtaining a degree in Fine Art from Central Saint Martins in 2017, he has exhibited solo at Peter von Kant and Springseason galleries in London, and has participated in group shows at Saatchi Gallery, Cob Gallery and Senesi Contemporanea.

Describing his artistic practice as one of self-erasure, music instead provides Heygate with a more personal and autobiographical outlet. Where the two worlds combine is on Preludes’ striking artwork, which features paintings of 13th century stone carvings from the font of the church in the town where he grew up.

Speaking to a time where people were connected to the land in a more profound way, each symbol is assigned to a track on the album, which Heygate likens to giving them a title.

“To add that one juxtaposition might open a whole new interpretation or language that might be hard to find otherwise,” he explains.“Over time it might reveal itself to you, which is why I'm excited about it being released. To throw them out there and see what comes of it.”

XKatedral Anthology I is the first in a series of archival releases dedicated to presenting music by XKatedral affiliated composers working within the realm of slowly evolving harmonic and timbral music. This double-vinyl set contains an array of pieces dating from 2010 - 2020. Four of the works included here were originally released on cassette tape early on in the label's history, while the two remaining pieces are presented by the label for the first time.

"The works Ir Himinn, Grooenn by Kristoffer Svensson, Disquiet (Heart) by Marta Forsberg and Lamé by Isak Edberg were first released on the compilation XKatedral Volume II in 2016. Svenssons piece from 2014 combines justly tuned gamelan percussion and prepared piano intricately interwoven in a way that obscures the boundaries between the two instrument groups. Forsberg and Edbergs pieces both use a monolithic form to explore the timbral and harmonic spaces provided by the Düben Baroque organ situated in Tyska Kyrkan in the oldest part of Stockholm. While similar in terms of instrumentation the two works differ formally - Edbergs Lamé composed in 2010 uses the registers of the organ to articulate a seamless spectral transformation while Forsbergs Disquiet (Heart) from 2014 deals in blocks of sound with a varying degree of opacity, saturation and intensity.

Glory for two electric guitars by Caterina Barbieri and Kali Malone was composed and recorded in Tempo Reale in Florence, Italy, and was originally released on the cassette compilation XKatedral Volume III in 2016. This music takes the form of an ever-evolving hypnotic pattern shared by the two instruments articulated through an additive and subtractive canon. Dissolving Ceremony, composed in 2012 by Edberg/Erlandsson/Lisinski, was first presented publicly on the self-released record Stratum. The music contained in that release was formed from a collection of gamelan percussion instruments augmented by two sets of live-electronic instruments tuned to the harmonic framework formed by the partials of the metal percussion. Originally positioned in the center of the record running order between two long monolithic process-based pieces, Dissolving Ceremony now stands on its own as a memory of a time and methodology from the not so distant past.

The newest piece in this set is Shipwrecks by Daniel M Karlsson. While this work is a recent one Karlsson should be considered one of the forerunners of the musical expression contained within this record set. Active within new music for two decades his strongly articulated musical ideas and constantly evolving craftsmanship has resulted in an enormous body of work, and has served as an inspiration for many of his fellow composers. This piece is a celebration of transposition and its immense capacity for timbral transformation using a vast array of instruments performed, recorded and electronically treated by the composer to form a liquid uncanny topography where a deeply personal harmonic language constantly shifts, slides and shivers."

In Gianfranco Rosi’s portrait of Naples, Sotto le Nuvole, the ground shakes periodically. Between Mount Vesuvius and the Tyrrhenian Sea, the fumaroles of the Phlegraean Fields hiss volcanic gas and steam. Below the sleeping volcano, modern day Naples emerges in black and white and fills with voices, with lives. From the traces of history and the concerns of the present, Rosi documents a city immersed in its continuous past, with Daniel Blumberg’s minimal soundscape hovering in a sonic space between liquid and air.
Tasked with creating a soundscape that would suspend space within Rosi’s film, Blumberg called upon the extended technique of saxophonists Seymour Wright and John Butcher to create a gossamer fabric of traces and sounds abstracted from their instruments. Having transitioned from theoretical physics to the saxophone, John Butcher has always deeply considered space in the context of his playing. His concerns are with flow, density and how the saxophone is situated in the living world. Zeroing in on the core sonic properties of the mechanical and acoustic components of the saxophone, Seymour Wright has integrated its every breath, reed vibration, keypad clatter and hissed microtone of his alto into his own, unique improvisational language. In his work with these two seminal players, Blumberg makes his most concentrated soundtrack to date - reinforcing the film's sense of overlapping time and space, and pushing at the limits of experimentation.

Initially recorded in Daniel’s flat in London, Butcher and Wright centre themselves around long, consistent tones, so soft that it seems breath is being gently pulled from the saxophone's bell by an invisible hand. Blumberg himself adds haunting bass harmonica, and recordings of Wright’s launeddas - a traditional and ancient triple pipe polyphonic reed instrument from Sardinia, Italy. Blumberg then travelled to the volcanic region of Baia, next to Pompeii. Once a flourishing classical Roman city loved by Nero, Baia slowly sank under hydrothermal pressure, leaving the city in a kind of geological purgatory. Using specialised geophones and hydrophones, Blumberg took those initial recordings and amplified them underwater, sending them calling out across the ruins of Baia’s mosaics, Nymphaeum statues and villas.

“It was important to me that the music was whispered in the same landscape that Gianfranco has worked for the past three years, so that you can hear the volcanic air gulping, the lapping of the waves, the steam and bubbles popping against John and Seymour’s saxophone breaths – an echo from a suspended time.”
What emerges is deeply melancholic, tender, subtle and right at the edges of audio technology. Submerged in an aquarian mausoleum, the mysterious vibrations of the saxophone and its bell become an echo of an echo, wading from the future into the past. ‘Sotto le Nuvole’ is less a soundtrack than a process of aeration - a sonic puncture in the material of the film which allows its central message to breathe, and a remarkable experiment at the limits of the saxophone’s possibility.

What is Tentacletek? Don't you know? Then listen to the new album by those fellow underwater friendos LOS PULPITOS. The two legendary music producers Felipe Salmon (Dengue Dengue Dengue) and Dirk Leyers (one half of Closer Musik and A08 formerly known as Africaine 808) have spent the last two years in seclusion deep down in their hidden diving station creating a bigger than life wave breaker album! From the very first track, gently gyrating, digitally processed, electro-acoustic sound tentacles spiral into your techno ears. These seducing limbs will suck you directly to all the festival dancefloors of the seven seas. Caribbean 3/4 disco polyrhythms meet state of the art techno UK dubby bass music.

"Mola Mola" floods your body as if you had fallen into the Mississippi and been dragged back to Atlantis by Drexciyans. While the wonderfully deep, monstrous dancehall-like bass of "Lab Lab" describes the metallic burst of a sinking spaceship. The cumbia-dancehall-drum&bass "ii ii ii" effortlessly equalises that pressure. In the Bermuda Triangle, a well-camouflaged "Antennariidae" fishes for its diving listeners with endless deep dub, giving them ice-cold shivers down their spine until all their legs and teeth are rattling voodooesque. "Sirens" sings of West London broken-beat strings while "Squidler" gallops fluidly on a seahorse down the Aquabahn straight to Detroit. "Catfishy"! rides in the wildest water bull in reverse-cowboy rodeo style. "Pannetronica" overflows like an Abyssopelagial pool?

LOS PULPITOS debut album is a wonderfully playful and stringent, excellently produced electronic concept album. The 10 tracks are unrivalled in their merciless yet extremely balanced bassiness.

(Mirko Hecktor)

Violator wurde 2002 in der brasilianischen Hauptstadt Brasília gegründet und hat sich zum Ziel gesetzt, eines der Aushängeschilder der postmillennialen neuen Welle des Old-School-Thrash-Metal zu werden. Die vierköpfige Band entstand aus der gemeinsamen Vorliebe der Mitglieder für genreprägende Acts aus der goldenen Ära der Szene in den 1980er Jahren. Sie mischten den unerbittlichen Stil der frühen Pioniere aus ihrem Land (Sepultura, Korzus) mit der amerikanischen Tradition (insbesondere den Genre-Titanen Exodus) und einer Prise Hardcore-Crossover. High Roller Records sind stolz darauf, vier Schlüsselveröffentlichungen der Gruppe auf Vinyl neu aufzulegen, wobei „Violent Mosh“ 2004 ihr erstes professionelles Werk auf dem brasilianischen Label Kill Again Records war. Nach einem Demo und einem Vierer-Split gab die Sechs-Track-EP den Ton an für das, was zwei Jahre später auf Violators Debütalbum „Chemical Assault“ folgen sollte. Beide Titel fangen die energiegeladenen Live-Shows ein, die sie sowohl alleine als auch als Support von internationalen Größen wie Destruction spielten. Apropos, auf der „Annihilation Process“-EP von 2010 konnte Sänger/Bassist Pedro Arcanjo nicht mehr nur den deutschen Frontmann Schmier oder Kreators Mille imitieren, während die Musik reifer wurde und Songs wie das ausgefeilte „Futurephobia“ haufenweise Potenzial erkennen ließen. Mit ihrem zweiten Album „Scenarios of Brutality“ (2013) löste die Band dieses Versprechen ein, indem sie ihren mittlerweile unverkennbaren Sound voll zur Geltung brachte, der das Flair eines neuzeitlichen Genre-Klassikers verströmt. Riff-lastig, mit intensivem Tempo und glaubwürdig Zorn und Wut durch etablierte Themen ausdrückend, die von gesellschaftspolitischem Bewusstsein und Doom-Mongering bis hin zu schlichter Thrash-Selbstreferenzialität reichen und mit rohen, aber kraftvollen Produktionen aufwarten, sind diese vier Platten äußerst wichtige Ergänzungen zum Genre-Kanon - Let the Violation Begin!

Mastered for vinyl by Christoph Brandes at Iguana Studios

Joe Fujinoki centered the compositions of his latest album Glass Torso round the idea of the fragility of the human body. Fujinoki described the narrative thread of the album as that of “holding the shape of a human body as if it might shatter like glass”. The precariousness of the body, the essence of the body as defined by Fujinoki as the torso, and the object relations between the boundaries of dialectical exercises pack themselves into his creative process.

Fujinoki recorded Glass Torso exclusively with analog synthesizers, stumbling in and out of structural loops to find space for accidental discoveries. The ten pieces of recorded material feel somewhere on the edge of typified form, feeling like a vascular system pumping in and out its undulating liquidities. Maybe this is the hollowed space held together by Fujinoki’s notion of the torso where you hear a microscopic world, dubby and generative. Fujinoki is adept at organizing this realm of subtle sound sources, giving proper considerations of shared tonal space. Seemingly, this handling of the precarity of sonic material elucidates Fujinoki’s mature attention to detail.

Ambient music genre tropes often affirm the listeners vessel for escape and dissociation. It provides an intoxicating allure by respite from an overwhelming exterior reality far outside the listeners controls. Here this space becomes apolitical, or its protest vocabulary softer and subtle. Fujinoki does not aim to tackle hyperobject topics on how to course correct the world, but he does something increasingly rarer to come across. On Glass Torso an alternative space is created not as shelter, but as a meditation on negotiation and compromise. This twenty eight minutes of audio lays down a foundation for imagination, for imagining how to negotiate the fragility of the self. Zoomed out, the implications of his negotiative sonics can be a playground for broader reflections on distributive care and attention.

Fujinoki says he feels “alert” to his physicality and placement in the world amidst vast digital cultures creating impositions on him and his surroundings. On Glass Torso he creates a concretized space on a vinyl record, where the virtual and the tangible antagonize one another that create the spectacle of the listening experience. This spectacle is a soft one, a considered one, and an utmost enjoyable one. Fujinoki juggles opposing forces brilliantly, and formulates an exquisite palette of soft passing music so he can also help the listener with the exquisite burden of their own Glass Torso.”

- Nick Klein, January 2026

Faitiche welcomes a new artist: Christina Kubisch belongs to the first generation of sound artists. Her practice ranges from performances, concerts, to works with video and visual art, but she is best known for her sound installations and electro-acoustic compositions.

TUNING brings together three pieces by Christina Kubisch from different periods of her oeuvre. What they have in common is the way they transform sound phenomena originally considered “non-music” into compositions.

Jan Jelinek: Gaming in Silence (2024) is the most recent work on this compilation. It’s a collage of electromagnetic waves, voice, and abstract sound textures. How did this combination come about?

Christina Kubisch: Gaming was commissioned as a fixed-media composition for the Sound Dome at ZKM Karlsruhe. Since Resonances: The Electromagnetic Bodies Project (2005), I’ve been making recordings in the old and new server rooms at the ZKM and in their permanent collection of historical computer games. Computer games like Asteroids (Atari, 1979) and Poly-Play (VEB Polytechnik, 1986) have specially generated analogue electromagnetic waves that interest me in particular on account of their density, rhythms and textures. I originally studied painting and to me the work of composition often feels like painting an abstract picture. I alter my source material as little as possible, layering and overlapping until a distinctive sound space emerges. In recent pieces, I sometimes combine magnetic waves with field recordings or live instruments. In Gaming it’s my recording of a Chinese song about silence.

JJ: Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004) is a recording from your Electrical Walks series. Here we should give a brief explanation of one of your best known works: participants in an Electrical Walk move through public spaces wearing prepared headphones that allow them to receive electromagnetic waves from their surroundings – for example from security gates, ATMs or neon signs. They discover a situation that normally is inaudible to the human ear and they can actively shape it by choreographing their movements. I really admire this piece, not least because there’s no clear dividing line between participants and artist. What exactly do we hear in Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004)?

CK: With this early work, I wanted to understand what is heard by people participating in an Electrical Walk in the same place but moving in different ways. The Spanish composer Miguel Alvarez-Fernàndez and I set off from opposite ends of a major shopping street in Madrid, met briefly in the middle, and then continued to the end. We both recorded our walks and I then layered them over one another. You might call it a work of electromagnetic conceptualism.

JJ: Diapason (2009 version) is an installation that plays a composition based on sounds from fifteen tuning forks. This setting is audible in the recording: there’s no dramatic arc, no beginning or end – instead, it recalls a piece of aleatoric music focussing on the decay phase. How did you come to make this work and could you tell us something about your compositional method?

CK: Diapason is part of a series of three pieces that deal with “non-instruments” or instruments that no longer exist: electrical mine bells used to send signals to the workers underground; a historical glass harmonica originally used for medicinal purposes; and tuning forks that were used by doctors to test people’s hearing. All of these methods are no longer in use. The sound of the tuning forks, audible only if held close to the ear, was recorded at the electronic studio at Berlin’s Technical University in such a way that even their decay remained audible. The frequencies range between 64 and 2048 Hertz and they can be adjusted at micro-intervals using small movable weights. The sequence and the duration of the pauses are dictated by chance and were not defined in advance. The 2009 version was created for an installation in the historic Holy Cross Church (Korskirken) in Bergen. Visitors could enter and leave the space at any time, deciding for themselves where and for how long they wished to listen to the sounds played back over an array of small loudspeakers placed on the floor of the apse.

Credits:

Gaming in Silence: commission of the ZKM/Hertzlab, Karlsruhe 2023
elektronic sound processing: Tom Thiel
sound engineering and mixing: Eckehard Güther

Diapason: produced at Elektronisches Studio of TU Berlin
rearrangement: Eckehard Güther

Christina Kubisch, published by Edition Christina Kubisch / Random Musick Publishing

image front: Transitionen 2021 by C. Kubisch, sonagrams of electronic waves (courtesy: Galerie Mazzoli Berlin)
image back: Diapason Tuning Fork, property of Folkmar Hein, Photo: Archiv Christina Kubisch

design by Tim Tetzner
mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi
Thanks to Miguel Álvarez-Fernández, Folkmar Hein, Dominik Kautz and Mario Mazzoli

One of the longest standing figures amidst the Discrepant wolfpack, the unstoppable alias of sound collector Laurent Jeanneau returns to the fold 2 years after 'Tanzania II' with this 2.0 update of the celebrated 'The Lisu' sort-of-mixtape released way back in 2014.

Based on recordings of music from the Lisu communities in China and Thailand captured on site, this mix shows Gong more like a selector or dj, restricting electronic processing to a bare minimum in order to convey different histories, places and timeframes within the same mesmerising continuum. A respectful and deeply vivid evocation of all the richness and diversity found among the different strands of lisu music, from ceremonial vocal incantations through a chibeu string instrument "processed" in loco through saturated street speakers to moments of pure poetic radiance, 'The Lisu' flows gracefully with the keen sense of wonder and knowledge of one of this century's most thoughtful and insightful sonic travellers.

Analog Tara’s Life of the Mother is a sonic meditation on the depth, expansiveness, complexity, and power that this phrase holds. This album is made from layers of generative processes and interactions with them. Analog Tara uses a Zillion sequencer and Xone mixer as system guides, and sounds of the ARP 2500, Jealous Heart, Access Virus, Oberheim OB-6, Jomox XBase, Moog DFAM, and more to create a compelling electronic narrative.

Composed, recorded + mixed by Tara Rodgers. Mastered by Piper Payne, assisted by Colby Gustafson, at Neato Mastering in Nashville, TN. Art by Jackie Milad, She Goes Ancient, mixed media, 2019.

Artist and multi-instrumentalist Flaer embraces the search for quiet miracles on first full-length LP Translations.

In 2023, Realf Heygate - who makes music as Flaer - released his debut mini-album Preludes, composed on his mother’s piano and his childhood cello.Returning to ODDA for his debut full-length album, Heygate is now looking in another direction. A record that embraces transition and movement, Translations is in many ways more internal, less rooted to a single place and reflective of the process of laying new foundations in Cornwall.

Like Preludes, Translations is coloured with found sounds and field recordings, from the starlings which can be heard singing through the open window of his studio, to the brittle recordings of his mother, who was a linguist, learning Spanish on a set of language tapes. In both cases, Heygate embraced the translations and memories inherent to the sounds.

“When I digitised my mother’s tapes, they warped and stuttered in a very similar way to the starling’s song,” he explains. “They had this uncanny rhythm and pulse that I couldn’t quite decode, but was saying something." These decayed transmissions hint at loss, resisting clarity in favour of the ineffable.

Translations is also a record of ambiguities and in-betweens, suggested by the double meaning of the album’s opening track ‘Entre’. At once intricate and expansive, threaded with birdsong and acoustic guitar motifs, this and ‘Starling Descends’ (a reference to Vaughan Williams’ ‘The Lark Ascending’) act as a bridge away from the pastoral themes of Preludes towards a more assertive sound. At times intimate in its textured instrumentation and at others more overtly grand in orchestration, reflecting awider palette of influences.

“Flaer began in many ways when I picked up my mother’s instruments, seeking a form of reconnection. Where words evaded me, they became the tools through which I found a language for grief – and above all, for love.”

Recorded between 2023 and 2025 – what Heygate calls “A gradual process of sowing and harvesting ideas rather than a single intense creative period” - each track follows a rhythm similar to the small maquettes and sculptures he has been working on in his visual practice, whereby structures and melodies form intuitively in moments that are as rare as they are fleeting.

“It's that feeling of searching that I really enjoy,” Heygate continues. “I never know what the destination of the composition is going to be, and I never really find what it is."

Translations is released on limited edition off-white vinyl LP (500 copies worldwide) with one of five signed and numbered handmade risograph prints. It's also available as standard black vinyl LP and digitally.

SELF-iSH is a quick but intensely dramatic concept album with dark psychedelic themes and nonstop experimental energy. Will Wood and the Tapeworms quickly grabbed attention in the punk scene following "Everything is a Lot" due to Wood's unique writing and refusal to break character even backstage and the band's dangerously high-energy shows. Face paint, confetti, and on-stage violence became the project's calling card, making SELF-iSH's dark and intense drama an inevitable direction for Wood. Mere months after the debut, producer Kevin Antreassian offered Wood a deal on his follow-up but only had a narrow time window, so Wood improvised. Bringing together a new lineup and with the help of guitarist Mike Bottiglieri, Wood wove scraps of discarded or unfinished songs together and created a tight yet abstract psychedelic concept album with the intent of taking every risk and trying every off-kilter idea he had. SELF-iSH began its highly conceptual production process during the holiday season in 2015, and the studio became littered with notepads, graphic charts, and teeth. The result was a manic little album featuring screaming, theremin, kazoo, power drills, the sound of breaking furniture, and an almost heavy-metal twist on Wood's off-kilter vision. By the time the album was finished, the piano was bloody, and the studio was wrecked. The album became what Wood described as the "bastard child" of his discography. Will Wood's early career can be primarily defined by his experimental vocal delivery, honky-tonk piano smashing, and darkly edgy songwriting. While his stylings have matured and taken on a more precise approach, his refusal to conform to expectations and constant shifts in the genre have continued to be hallmarks of his songwriting and production. In his "Will Wood and the Tapeworms" releases (Everything Is A Lot in 2015, SELF-iSH in 2016), audiences can see the first glimpses into what would eventually become his signature style, presented in a uniquely raw and chaotic state of potential.

Returning to Peak Oil for a second expedition, veteran Russian producer Kirill Vasin, aka Hoavi, explores an untrodden path on 'architectonics', drawing from his lifelong appreciation of Indonesian gamelan musics to mastermind a rhythmelodic hybrid sound that's sinuous, subtle and remarkably dubby. Over the last three and a half years, Vasin has used the music's methodologies and rhythmic forms to evolve his existing processes and signatures and transform his musical philosophy. To start the exercise, he knew he needed percussion, so used his phone and a contact microphone to pick up nearby sounds, drumming on various tables, railings, empty glasses and other objects to create a library of textured, tonally complex percussive sounds. But the work wasn't done yet - in fact, it was just the beginning of a long process of trial and error: Vasin created two full versions of the album before 'architectonics' was finished.

There are still echoes of the chrome-plated sci-fi atmospheres and complex, stuttering beatscapes that underpinned 2021's 'Invariant', but 'architectonics' asks very different questions, prompting fresher, more innovative responses. Leaning on his bank of organic percussive sounds, Vasin is able to concoct a tactile aura that he fills with eerie fluctuating repetitions that shift subtly, sometimes imperceptibly. The cavernous reverb and booming bass that supported his last few albums is still present, now employed as scaffolding for different architectures: skittering sequences and ornamented overlapping phrases that owe as much to Steve Reich's hallowed minimalist compositions as they do to Indonesian traditional forms. Lulling, almost hypnotic tessellations appear like fractals on the polished surfaces, morphing from jazz to techno and dub while retaining gamelan's haunting xenharmonic resonances and Vasin's concept becomes crystal clear. 'architectonics' isn't an attempt to make a gamelan album, it's Vasin's way of developing his own artistic process by looking far beyond the traditional boundaries of electronic music.

Nicaraguan-American artist Dagmar Zuniga makes music that feels both intimate and expansive: songs drift like disrupted signals, carried by harmony, tape hiss, and a strong sense of touch. Her debut solo album in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music — written and recorded in New York, Norway, and Athens, Georgia over a period of five years on her longtime companion, the Tascam 424 — was uploaded to Bandcamp and YouTube in January 2025, quickly garnering over two hundred thousand views and the attention of artists such as Mount Eerie, who invited her to tour with them that summer. This year, what was once a jewel of tapped-in algorithms and message boards will meet the world at large, with in filth arriving digitally on March 4, and physically on April 10, via AD 93.

in filth is an atmospheric, devotional collage where one voice multiplies into a chorus of selves, sometimes delicate, sometimes severe; an effect created by Zuniga’s masterful layering of texture and complex harmonies. Synths glitter out like spears of sunlight from beneath clouds of moody, time-distorted guitars, and songs spin about themselves like tightly-wound music boxes, making use of a kind of hypnotic repetition, before melting apart into their components or slipping into the following track.

Zuniga began recording to tape as a teenager, drawn to the physicality of the medium — how a tape recording is fragile, mutable, and alive. Though her ethereal sound may draw easy comparisons to other female pioneers of psychedelic folk, she is influenced just as much by the darker sounds of Syd Barrett and The Fall. Like Barrett, Zuniga is a painter, and she is interested not only in recording music but in creating a full, self-contained artistic universe: she creates her own artwork, merchandise, music videos, and bootleg tapes of new and unfinished music that she exclusively sells at live shows (“If something is not material, it does not exist,” she insists). Her world has not gone unvisited, garnering her a monthly show on NTS Radio ‘World of Pain’, as well as a forthcoming appearance at Rewire Festival in April 2026.

Though Zuniga’s work explores themes of solitude and suffering, the suffering in her songs is not borrowed or displayed; it is held, then opened outward through empathy — an exacting practice of attention that insists on shared ground. Solitude, in her work, is not withdrawal but a starting point for connection. Likewise, over time, her recording process has become increasingly communal, with in filth featuring musicians Hayes Hoey, Austyn Wohlers (Tomato Flower), and Zach Phillips (Fievel Is Glauque). Newer recordings widen the circle even more. For Zuniga, collaboration is a way to “find a place between worlds,” echoing Badiou’s idea of love as a vision refracted through the prism of difference. Meaning emerges there — in the space between voices, between artist and listener. “I hope my music helps people work through difficult experiences,” she says. “The same way it helps me.”

Nicaraguan-American artist Dagmar Zuniga makes music that feels both intimate and expansive: songs drift like disrupted signals, carried by harmony, tape hiss, and a strong sense of touch. Her debut solo album in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music — written and recorded in New York, Norway, and Athens, Georgia over a period of five years on her longtime companion, the Tascam 424 — was uploaded to Bandcamp and YouTube in January 2025, quickly garnering over two hundred thousand views and the attention of artists such as Mount Eerie, who invited her to tour with them that summer. This year, what was once a jewel of tapped-in algorithms and message boards will meet the world at large, with in filth arriving digitally on March 4, and physically on April 10, via AD 93.

in filth is an atmospheric, devotional collage where one voice multiplies into a chorus of selves, sometimes delicate, sometimes severe; an effect created by Zuniga’s masterful layering of texture and complex harmonies. Synths glitter out like spears of sunlight from beneath clouds of moody, time-distorted guitars, and songs spin about themselves like tightly-wound music boxes, making use of a kind of hypnotic repetition, before melting apart into their components or slipping into the following track.

Zuniga began recording to tape as a teenager, drawn to the physicality of the medium — how a tape recording is fragile, mutable, and alive. Though her ethereal sound may draw easy comparisons to other female pioneers of psychedelic folk, she is influenced just as much by the darker sounds of Syd Barrett and The Fall. Like Barrett, Zuniga is a painter, and she is interested not only in recording music but in creating a full, self-contained artistic universe: she creates her own artwork, merchandise, music videos, and bootleg tapes of new and unfinished music that she exclusively sells at live shows (“If something is not material, it does not exist,” she insists). Her world has not gone unvisited, garnering her a monthly show on NTS Radio ‘World of Pain’, as well as a forthcoming appearance at Rewire Festival in April 2026.

Though Zuniga’s work explores themes of solitude and suffering, the suffering in her songs is not borrowed or displayed; it is held, then opened outward through empathy — an exacting practice of attention that insists on shared ground. Solitude, in her work, is not withdrawal but a starting point for connection. Likewise, over time, her recording process has become increasingly communal, with in filth featuring musicians Hayes Hoey, Austyn Wohlers (Tomato Flower), and Zach Phillips (Fievel Is Glauque). Newer recordings widen the circle even more. For Zuniga, collaboration is a way to “find a place between worlds,” echoing Badiou’s idea of love as a vision refracted through the prism of difference. Meaning emerges there — in the space between voices, between artist and listener. “I hope my music helps people work through difficult experiences,” she says. “The same way it helps me.”

Some years ago, Kjell Bjørgeengen and Keith Rowe attempted to convert video signals into sound by setting up Rowe’s pickups next to an old CRT monitor, turning its magnetic field into a sound generator. Rowe further developed the system with David Jones at Alfred University, slimming down the setup using a copper coil, a circuit board, a video input, and a telephone pickup. Jones named it the »Flood Coil«, and it’s that instrument you can see on the album’s front cover and that lies at the core of these recordings, made without any physical live input from the artists themselves. In essence, it’s generative music in its purest form.

Bjørgeengen’s video feed is generated by oscillators, then routed into Marhaug’s pedals and then back into the Flood Coil, so any visual shifts alter the sound, and any modification to the sound changes the video. The duo have played this setup live many times, but for this studio version they left the system to do its thing without any intervention for two minutes at a time before moving onto the next idea. They recorded hours and hours using this process and then selected 18 highlights for this album, extracting harsh noise, power electronics, lulling feedback drone, and peculiar rhythmic snippets to show the scope of their technique.

A wall of growling, hi-octane Pulse Demon-style noise opens the set, gradually exposing us to more asymmetric textures, shifting through unstable repetitions that transform Merzbow’s metal-inspired screams into »Aaltopiiri«-era rhythmic noise. It’s remarkable, actually, how much Marhaug and Bjørgeengen can squeeze from the system, chancing on shivering, lower-case chugs and pops, galloping drums, soundsystem subs, and grinding blast beats that sound like Napalm Death’s »Scum« piped through a broken amp stack. It ain’t pretty, but noise/industrial freaks will revel in the fierce delights inside.

Amulets is the solo project of Portland-based audio and visual artist Randall Taylor. Amulets employs handmade cassette tape loops and live processed guitar loops to create live, lush soundscapes and immersive drones. Through the recontextualisation of cassettes, sampling, field recording, and looping, these long-form compositions blur the genres of ambient, drone, noise, and electronic music. Amulets has steadily built a catalog defined by tactile intimacy and patient exploration. Deeply immersive, the album navigates the dreamy boundaries between the tangible and the ethereal, where sound behaves as memory itself: unstable, layered, and quietly transformative. Known for his ability to weave soundscapes that evoke powerful emotions with minimalistic instrumentation, Taylor's newest project is a masterful exploration of mood, atmosphere, and texture.Throughout the ambient soundscapes is introspection, melancholy, and an almost hypnotic calm. The album resists forward motion, instead inviting the listener to linger inside its evolving textures, to sit with what's left behind rather than rush toward resolution. Central to Amulets' identity is Taylor's insistence on working, quite literally, outside the box. While many contemporary experimental artists rely heavily on software, Taylor's process remains rooted in physical interaction with sound. "This album differs from previous albums because it's a lot of found sounds, song fragments, and other samples that I have that I wanted to fuse together. I also heavily relied on a lot of ambient guitar and live guitar recording to marry all the sounds together." (Randall Taylor) FOR FANS OF Tim Hecker * Ben Frost * Lawrence English * Alessandro Cortini * This Will Destroy You * Mono * Windy & Carl

OUR ENDLESS WAR zeigt eindrucksvoll wie moderner Death Metal zu klingen hat!" Metal Hammer (Florian Krapp, 6 von 7 Punkten)

Info:
Wer es brutal will, kommt an diesem Koloss nicht vorbei!

Auch auf dem fünften Album in ihrer beeindruckenden Karriere kennen WHITECHAPEL kein Halten. Our Endless War bündelt alle Stärken, die das Sextett aus Knoxville in Tennessee seit seiner Gründung entwickelt hat. Das Album wurde penibel ausgefeilt und geht partout keine Kompromisse in Sachen Brutalität ein, ist aber zugleich das bisher geradlinigste, atmosphärischste und emotional packendste Album der Bandgeschichte und hievt jeden Aspekt ihres Sounds auf ein neues Niveau.

The album presents a distinctive artistic statement built around song, texture and collective exploration. Opening tracks such as 'Fair Weather' and 'The Big Flood' draw on the oblique lyricism of Henry Cow and the surreal songcraft of Robert Wyatt, with Beraha's voice at the centre of a sound world shaped by analogue radio collage and drifting, delayed saxophone lines. Punk-inflected rhythms emerge on 'Modern Times', while the reflective 'Into the Woods' blends lyrical song with collective improvisation, highlighting the ensemble's dynamic range. Across the album, tightly composed material sits alongside free improvisation, cinematic writing and storytelling. Tracks including 'February' and 'I the King' explore contemporary jazz, humour and surreal narrative, while groove- led pieces such as 'Dorian Gray's Bathroom Cabinet' and Morricone- inspired 'Same Time Next Week' showcase rhythmic drive and playfulness. The album closes with 'Strangers on a Train', where scripted text gives way to improvised spoken dialogue over a relentless pulse, uniting the record's themes of collaboration, narrative and spontaneity. Reflecting on the recording process, Kevin Figes describes Wallpaper Music III as "a joy to make", marking a return to Rockfield Studios and a collaborative experience with musicians whose sensitivity, imagination and improvisational skill shaped the music at every stage

In 2005, Andrew Bird was a previously unimaginable combination of virtuoso violinist, singer-songwriter, guitarist, and whistler. With that year’s album The Mysterious Production of Eggs, Bird minted a new sound that continues to be imitated today.
To celebrate the 20th anniversary of The Mysterious Production of Eggs, Andrew Bird is releasing a very special boxset featuring a 54 page book including photographs, special surprises, and two essays: one written by Andrew himself, and another by Anders Lindall examining the circuitous and fascinating process Andrew and collaborators took to record the album.
The boxset also includes the original release of the album, alongside two LPs of never before released material, on black vinyl. On one LP, a one-to-one playthrough of the album but of demos, live cuts, and alternate versions. The third LP includes more never released rarities on Side A, and a selection of songs from the original album performed by Andrew with the Nu Deco Ensemble. The original cover artist has created all-new artwork for the anniversary piece.

A cocktail of rebellious queer vocal fragments, deceptive percussive granules and swaying hammered vibrations, upsammy and Valentina Magaletti's first collaboration trembles with suspense. The seeds of 'Seismo' were sown following a commission from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum to soundtrack an exhibition of work from the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam and the duo didn't want to approach their collaboration flippantly. So, wandering the museum's maze of rooms, they recorded various improvised percussive sounds with their arsenal of microphones, using the space to inform various rhythms and textures that were sculpted later into electroacoustic vignettes. This was just the starting point, though; as Magaletti and upsammy began performing together, the project evolved and 'Seismo' began to take shape. The duo had struck on a salient aesthetic concept, using mostly digital and acoustic mallet instruments to blur the boundary between their roles and create friction between the synthetic and the authentic. And the finished record is a phantasmagoric push-and-pull between its various conflicting elements: harmony and dissonance, randomness and predictability, openness and constraint. 'Seismo' isn't the first time that upsammy has studied her environment in search of revelation. On her acclaimed second album, 2024's 'Germ in a Population of Buildings', the Amsterdam-based DJ, producer and multidisciplinary artist erected her complex, unorthodox rhythms and eerie melodies around a modernist frame of field recordings collected in various cityscapes, countering heavyweight basslines with subtle, microscopic sounds. London-based Italian vanguard Magaletti, meanwhile, has applied her unique logic to innumerable projects at this point, working with everyone from batida icon Nídia and hardcore-dub outfit Moin to French writer Fanny Chiarello and British bass scientist Shackleton. For years she's approached the drums with criticism, attempting to challenge any preconceptions, something that's most visible on 2020's 'A Queer Anthology of Drums'. And both artists' thoughtful perspectives are welded together seamlessly on 'Seismo', a dizzying suite of eight eccentric statements that's fragile but never insecure, gauzy but not indistinct. An unnerving sense of space characterizes 'It Comes to an End' as Magaletti's in situ improvisations herald for upsammy's microscopic glitches and chiming pitch-bent melodies. It's almost unbalancing to witness the track's impossible dimensionality, the interplay between reverberant marimba hits and bone-dry synths, or percussion that's been recorded and processed in consciously different settings. A new architecture emerges in the sound itself that the two artists scan and explore meticulously, testing its boundaries with undulating hybridized rhythms on the invigorating 'Superimposed' and offsetting the powdery drums with liquified smacks and alien voices. The duo's vibrations are knotted with piano flourishes on 'Hyperlocalize', balanced with artificial clanks and clangs that disappear into the track's sonorous atmosphere, replaced by whispers and half-hallucinated insectoid chirps. 'Seismo' is an album that feeds off the energy generated by its juxtapositions: the tension and anticipation that's melted by rapid, hyperactive movement and the finely drawn rhythms disrupted by a layer of indistinct, barely perceptible microsounds. It's a collaboration that sounds like two minds challenging each other but not wrestling, each peering from their own distinct vantage point and imagining a third landscape shaped by optimistic, queer vibrations.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes.

The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process.

Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever.

The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before.


‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms.

The sonic worlds of Devon Rexi and John T. Gast collide in a vital meeting between two singular mavericks!

Following two lauded EPs on cult label South of North, Amsterdam-based Devon Rexi prepare to release their much-anticipated debut album, recorded by and featuring elusive 5 Gate Temple devotee, musician and producer John T. Gast, whose acclaimed catalogue continues to flourish.

Devon Rexi is a trio made up of Nicola Reverda (Nicolini), Nushin Naini and Goya van der Heyden (La Rat). They’ve quickly carved out their own sonic world, traversing krautfunk, post-punk and psyched-up no wave, all laced with a dub-heavy experimental mentality. Breathstep captures the band’s bass-heavy incantations, ripe with melodic chaos and rhythmic improvisation, while devilish cackles and processed vocals flirt over a jukebox of dubbed snippets and sliced textures.

The introduction of John T. Gast as producer and collaborator pulls the Devon Rexi sound deeper into bubbling dub territory, while his own palette is stretched and pushed into new terrain. Though Gast has firmly cemented his singular sound over the last decade, this interconnected process marks new ground for all involved. The result is a supreme convergence of esteemed musicians and a wickedly fine debut collaborative record.

Breathstep finds its home on Bristol imprint Accidental Meetings, whose ever-evolving sound and wide-ranging discography continue to grow. The album was recorded over the last year across Amsterdam, Lisbon and London.

Reframed is Vitess’ third album, released on his own label Retro Futura, and marks a new turning point in his artistic journey. Unlike his previous albums — the first fully exploring the Retro aesthetic, the second embodying the Futura — Reframed brings these two worlds together within a single, coherent yet eclectic body of work. The album opens with sounds inspired by 90s progressive music and gradually moves toward more futuristic textures. This album format gives Vitess complete freedom: the freedom to build a full, living musical experience, introducing for the first time a strong instrumental dimension — most notably through the use of live drums — and allowing each track to interact with others, transform, or mirror one another, while maintaining a clear narrative thread that guides the listener throughout.

The title Reframed directly reflects this approach. The album is built around tracks conceived as Recto / Verso, offering a form of double listening experience. On the one hand, electronic, club-oriented and progressive versions, designed for energy and dancefloor movement; on the other hand, more introspective, pop and instrumental counterparts, created for listening and storytelling. Starting from the same musical foundation — a vocal sample, a percussion element, or a melody — Vitess develops two distinct interpretations of the same track, generating contrasting yet deeply connected sonic worlds. This method, central to his creative process, highlights his ability to explore a single detail in depth and let a micro-element lead him toward radically different sonic dimensions, while ensuring coherence and a strong identity across the album.

For Reframed, Vitess also collaborates for the first time with other artists: Stupid Flash, ATOEM, and Lucile, selected for their ability to enrich his universe and push it toward new aesthetics. These collaborations recreate a sense of collective energy reminiscent of his early days playing in bands, while remaining true to the essence of the Vitess project: a primarily solitary approach rooted in exploration, experimentation, and embracing the unexpected paths each idea can take.

Fides Records continues its 10-year anniversary journey with X5. This instalment widens the emotional spectrum while staying locked to the club: dub-soaked pressure, sunrise euphoria, cinematic tension, and leftfield elegance: six tracks that underline the label’s taste for both functionality and narrative depth.

Side A opens with Jon Hester’s “Oblique”, a timeless cut where dubby undertones meet crisp percussion, crowned by a high-pitched saturated motif that results warm, powerful, and sharply functional. “Caballo Azul (Z.I.P.P.O Rework)” follows, reshaping Franzizca’s original through Z.I.P.P.O’s lens into a dub-infused, precise reinterpretation, layered with meticulous sound design and understated force. Closing the side, Pink Concrete’s “Now We Are” keeps the emotional momentum alive with euphoric tones and introspective energy that feel built for sunrise closings.

Flipping to Side B, Tal Fussman’s “Ghost” adds cinematic weight, driven by an organ-inspired chord progression and dynamic percussion showing his bold, colorful, and razor-precise creative process. Aasthma is the project of Swedish heavyweights Peder Mannerfelt and Pär Grindvik and land on FIDES with “The Love Bees”, a genre-defying anthem where disco and house flair shine through a peak-time techno skeleton. The record closes with Hiver’s “Restless”, an IDM-infused finale rich in harmonic complexity and breaky elegance, perfectly capturing the Milan-based duo’s distinctive, emotionally charged signature

Real Bad Man and YUNGMORPHEUS are excited to announce their new album The Chalice & The Blade is out now. The album features Boldy James, Kool Keith, Grip, Blu, Fatboi Sharif, and more.

YUNGMORPHEUS is a highly innovative rapper that consistently endeavors to redefine the boundaries of originality and elevate the art of lyricism. Earlier this year, YUNGMORPHEUS dropped his critically acclaimed album “From Whence It Came” which received praise from The FADER, NPR, SPIN, and was hailed by QUIP Mag as “Everything you need from a hip-hop record.”

Since 2020, Prolific LA-based producer and designer Adam Weissman (Real Bad Man) has been on a sensational run releasing albums with Boldy James, Smoke DZA, and Pink Siifu. The Chalice & The Blade will be Real Bad Man’s third album of the year following his remarkable collaborations with Blu (“Bad News”) and Kool Keith (“Serpent”).

The Chalice & The Blade showcases a unique ambiance marked by a stoney and atmospheric quality, interspersed with elements of funk. Real Bad Man explains the album making process, "I always tailor the music to the artist I’m collaborating with. I sent Morpheus a bunch of beats that he’d sound good over and once he started picking them, that set the path. We’d record and I’d make more beats, and move stuff around, get rid of some songs and record new ones. It was a good process. I like being able to adjust as we go, I think that makes for a good album. We left some songs on the cutting room floor. Cream rises."

YUNGMORPHEUS discussing the new album, “‘The Chalice & The Blade’ is an album primarily rooted in dichotomies; contemplation of action vs action itself, inner locus vs outer locus, pursuit for self vs pursuit for others. Honesty is always the centerpiece. Play if you want cause I’m not!”

On The Chalice & The Blade, the seamless synergy between Real Bad Man and YUNGMORPHEUS takes center stage, showcasing an extraordinary chemistry that elevates every track to new heights of musical innovation.

With two albums released—and a third arriving—in less than two years, Agitator are as ferocious in their release pace as they are on stage. All the more surprising, then, that the forthcoming album "Året av sex" is the darkest and slowest work they have made to date. Influenced as much by chanting witch doctors as by Christian Kjellvander and Leonard Cohen, and drawing from electronic and avant-garde music, the band reshapes its sound into something more brooding and expansive.

Partly recorded in a barn on the island of Öland, the album’s soundscape sees the drum kit augmented—and at times replaced—by scrap metal found in a nearby bay. Through this process, Agitator expand the idea of both what a creative process can be and what a rock band might look like in 2026. The result is bold, unsettling, and compelling: an album that digs deeper than many are willing to in Sweden today.

The lyrics on "Året av sex" are darker, more dangerous, and more precise than ever before. Given greater space within the broader sonic landscape, they become central to understanding this new incarnation of Agitator.

Agitator’s new album is released on March 27 via Adrian Recordings, preceded by three singles. The band’s first two albums have previously been praised by outlets including Dagens Nyheter, P3, Gaffa, Café, and PSL, leading to sold-out tours. A full Swedish tour is scheduled in connection with the album release.

WRWTFWW Records is very happy to announce the release of Interwoven, the deeply moving collaborative album from Ken-ichiro Isoda and aus (Yasuhiko Fukuzono) — now available on limited edition transparent sea green colored vinyl LP housed in a heavyweight sleeve with selective-varnish 3D print, as well as in digipack CD and digital formats.
Recorded between Hachijo Island and Tokyo, Interwoven distills two visionary voices of Japanese ambient and electronic music into a single breath of feather-light and quietly luminous meditative sound.

Isoda is a revered figure of New-age and environmental music whose work on Oscilation Circuit – Série Réflexion 1 (originally released on famed label Sound Process) has long attained mythic status. He composes, notably with harp and wind instruments, produces contemporary music and video game scores, and crafts his very own brand of ambient music from the volcanic island of Hachijo-jima. Tokyo-based electronic composer and synth master aus is known for tender, melody-driven soundscapes. From the two artists comes a dialogue suspended between land and sea, bridging the generation gap and the physical distance between them.

What began as a series of sketches — impressions of water, islands, and shifting light — gradually evolved into an exchange without explanation, a correspondence of sound that dissolved boundaries. In that anonymity, both artists discovered an uncommon freedom: a place where each could move lightly and intuitively, without expectation. The music drifts with a gentle, intuitive grace: lingering piano, soft cinematic synths, and field recordings that unfold like whispered recollections, while flute and saxophone lines pass through like occasional breezes — a human presence felt as warmth more than form.

Interwoven is music for those who cherish stillness and the delicate beauty of the everyday. It’s music for admirers of Satoshi Ashikawa, Midori Takada, Satsuki Shibano, Hiroshi Yoshimura, Takashi Kokubo, Brian Eno, and all who seek a quiet refuge in sound.

Salix is a bold new departure for modular synthesist Loula Yorke, seen here using an antique reed organ to explore the ancient roots of willow trees in magic, myth and medicine, as well as inviting another musician into her recording studio for the first time, clarinettist Charlotte Jolly.

The EP forms a sonic archive of a singular instrument: an antique free reed organ left behind by a previous encumbent of Asylum Studios, (the artists' co-operative in Suffolk where Yorke's Truxalis labelmate and life collaborator, Seiche, has a studio space). The organ is in poor condition and fascinatingly, painfully detuned. Yorke's recordings bring out its host of unusual quirks exacerbated by age and neglect: the powerful rhythmic creaking of the wooden treadles; the bone-shaking resonance emanating from its body at specific pitches; unexpected exclamations of harmonic collision from within the carcass redolent of a human voice; the piercing, shrieking whistles of broken reeds, and the powerful timbres unlocked via Yorke's experiments with various combinations of stops.

The three tracks that form Salix are inspired by a local weeping willow tree, a constant companion photographed over the course of a year. Boughs caught in a gyre. A maiden in mourning. Branches that gesture in the wrong direction. A tree turned upside down. A hand-woven willow basket, an old technology to gather and store. The journey of a lovelorn bard through the underworld, a bundle of willow under one arm for protection.

For the opening track, The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, Yorke recorded herself playing a simple unaccompanied improvisation on the organ, the only ornamentation being the processed sounds of the keys being struck and returning to their positions.

For Bundle of Styx, a spell of protection is cast and then broken. Yorke invited virtuoso clarinettist Charlotte Jolly into the studio to test combining the breathy textures of both brass and natural reeds, the instruments uniting and obsuring each other in turn during this one-take improvisation. The organ's unpredictable sharpened tunings take centre stage here, with Jolly using them as a point of departure to conjure a set of peerless harmonic improvisations live in the moment. Throughout the improvisation, Yorke, a self-taught musician, unpracticed on the organ, supports and challenges, freely admitting that she's not always sure what effect her decisions to move up and down the keyboard or pull out certain stops will have. Jolly's genius lies in her ability to meet and build on every uncertain pitch thrown her way, saying of the experience, "I love that Loula isn't classically trained, I can't predict at all what she's about to do."

For the final track, With the Red Dawn, Yorke has come up with another unique combination of textures, this time bringing her own specialism in modular synthesis to the fore. A ten-minute reed organ drone characterised with ever-shifting bass swells and overtones is layered with tuned sines, often shudderingly wave-folded, that ebb and flow both in intensity and harmonic colour according to the duty cycles of eight interrelated LFOs. These recordings are collaged with Yorke's singing voice and a langorous, ascending sequence across two octaves on Jolly's clarinet, all arranged to form a cohesive whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Smatterings of untuned percussion and a fragment of a conversation between the duo left in the final mix cements Yorke's unprecious DIY aesthetic into the release.

At its heart, Salix is like watching the wind in the willows; hundreds of thousands of identical tiny leaves moving in confluence on its branches; at once one thing and many things; moment-to-moment our perception makes out different individuals parts within this expanse of texture, before sinking back into the whole.

What's the point of the howl of string to speaker, the hammering of stick-on skin? Is it transcendence, elevating the human spirit by catharsis in sound? Or is it summoning chaos, a purgatory in which to bask in all that’s unclean, the better to feel alive?
Why not both? Because that’s what’s on offer on Diet Of Worms, the second Rocket release by The Shits, Leeds via Newcastle’s titans of disgust and deliverance. This is a feast for the senses in the worst way possible - primal rock boiled down to its essence and flung full in your face. Using repetition, tortured vocal invective and heads-down intensity as blunt instruments, these eight tracks are an unprecedented torrent of acidic salvation. Whilst lurking somewhere on the decadence-destruction axis between the nihilism of prime Stooges and the bloody blackout of Braimbombs, Diet Of Worms is possessed of a legitimately uncompromising hostility that both elevates and debases it to co-ordinates unknown.
There are revelations here in the riffage and the rancour, even if they are the kind that occur in the bleary miasma of the lock-in, or witnessing the streetlight blur of the subsequent stagger home. Even more single-minded and remorseless than the band’s Rocket debut ‘You’re A Mess’, this is a record that demands full immersion. Whether it’s ‘Then You’re Dead’ hammering on a pulverising garage-stinking riff until it begs for mercy, or ‘Change My Ways’, whose Creedence-In-Hell swagger and lurch is that of abjection transmuted into joy, this is psychedelia forcibly removed from its comfort zone of pastiche, and thrust into a bad-trip realm of the vivid and nightmarish.
But rarely has the process of making beauty and horror indivisible seemed like so much fun. If Werner Herzog was right, and the only harmony in the universe is that of overwhelming and collective murder, then The Shits are the true music of the spheres.

The Portland, ME trio returns with Feels Like Hell, their most self-assured and emotionally charged record yet. Despite the title, the album is a celebration of personal growth, creative freedom, and defiant joy in the face of a chaotic world.

Coming off the burnout and frustration captured in their 2021 album Quitter, Feels Like Hell finds Sonia Sturino (vocals/guitar), Annie Hoffman (bass/vocals), and Adam Hand (drums) leaning into clarity, gratitude, and renewed purpose. Sturino’s lyrics are as raw and honest as ever, but now they reflect strength rather than despair. It’s an album that drags existential dread into the daylight and sets it on fire.

“I decided to stop being such a sad-sap negative person,” Sturino says. “Now I practice being grateful, being proud, being happy, and not being envious.” That mindset shift shapes the tone of Feels Like Hell, which looks at darkness but chooses not to be consumed by it.

The record also marks the band’s first foray into co-writing, with Hoffman playing a significant role in shaping its sound. Embracing a more intuitive recording process, the trio stripped back the excess and focused on what felt right. The result is a record that’s resilient, cathartic, and brimming with creative energy.

While the world may still feel like it’s falling apart, Feels Like Hell pulses with the power of letting go. Letting go of fear, of perfectionism, of the illusion that vulnerability is weakness. With driving guitars, unflinching lyrics, and a renewed sense of purpose, Weakened Friends prove that it’s possible to stand in the wreckage and still find something worth singing about.

Y-TRAXX'S "MYSTERY LAND" RETURNS ON VINYL WITH NEW REMIX BY ROY ROSENFELD:

The legendary trance anthem Mystery Land by Y-Traxx returns to the spotlight. First released in 1995, the track achieved iconic status after featuring prominently in the 2000 box-office No. 1 movie Kevin & Perry Go Large. The original track is now being reissued on vinyl. The release includes the Original Mix, the classic Sickboy Courtyard Mix, the Søluna Remix - winner of the Beatport Remix Contest - and a brand-new remix from Roy Rosenfeld. Available from 3 April via Serious Beats Classics.

With its hypnotic melodies, driving beats, and mysterious atmosphere, "Mystery Land" became a symbol of the 90s trance scene and grew into a cult classic. The track was picked up worldwide by influential DJs, including Paul Oakenfold, and featured prominently on his mix album Perfecto Fluoro (1996).

The new remix by Roy Rosenfeld brings a fresh, modern take to the iconic track, preserving the emotion of the original while adding a powerful peak-time, sunrise energy. Rosenfeld comments: "Remixing Mystery Land was an honor for me. I've loved this track for many years, so the process was very natural and fun. The vision came quickly, keeping the emotion of the original and pushing it into a peak-time, sunrise energy."

ABOUT ROY ROSENFELD:

Roy Rosenfeld is a leading DJ and producer in the house music scene, known for his warm, melodic, and instantly recognizable sound. Since 2009, he has built an impressive international career with releases on labels such as All Day I Dream, Lost & Found, and Rumors, and with iconic tracks like Epika and Kala. His music receives worldwide support from top artists including Solomun, Black Coffee, and Keinemusik. Alongside his studio work, Roy is a highly sought-after performer at clubs and festivals around the globe and the driving force behind the successful No Drama event concept in Tel Aviv.

This release combines nostalgia with contemporary trance production, offering both longtime fans and a new generation the chance to experience this timeless classic in a refreshed form.

“Al destino”, the new album by Steve Pepe, began to take shape in 2023 after roughly a year of highly abstract sound research. The original intention was to create a dancefloor-oriented record, moving away from down-tempo structures, built around minimal, percussive compositions and high BPMs, with sound conceived primarily as a functional element.
In 2024, however, the process shifted. Less time was spent producing and more time reflecting. Emotions hovered between the urgencies of the present and unresolved past traumas, and almost without conscious intention, singing returned to the center of the project. It was not a calculated choice, but an inevitable one.
The resulting album does not draw its energy from distant places, nor does it focus on sonic experimentation as an end in itself. Instead, Al destino offers an intimate perspective on how memories and emotions shape the inner self, on the sensation of being simultaneously alone and deeply connected to everything, and on the struggle to reconcile feelings, sensations, love, and desire.

Bristol duo Pume Orenge unspool a world of spectral electronica from cassette loops and instrumental improvisation on their debut album Angel By Milo for Odda Recordings.

It is a world that opens draped in ferric hiss. A fog of sound, dense and yet not quite there, catching the light in strange shades and ambient drifts. Looping and receding, looping and receding, as pucks of static burst like faraway fireworks on a cold winter’s night. Sound sources obscured, ambiguous, not quite what they seem.

Angel By Milo takes its lead from the analogue process and textures by which it was made. Percussive and melodic loops were established, manipulated and responded to with instrumental improvisation, in a give-and-take with the materiality of the medium.

Across these seven intricately developed tracks, the sound fluctuates between the cinematic and the introspective, at times melancholy, at others verging on a kind of restrained anger, before the calm sets in once more. It is music for the small hours, awash with the grainy stuff of memory.

Embedded within Bristol’s independent scene, Pume Orenge’s quiet debut also speaks to the duo’s shared roots in the area, and like many of Odda’s previous releases, contains a sensitivity to place and atmosphere, even when these are no more than implied.

Angel By Milo builds on the DIY ethos of Pume Orenge's 2023 self-titled debut EP, whose tracks were recorded live in single takes, now honing a more intentional, purposeful approach to music making. It is one in which layers of meaning are allowed to reveal themselves, a way of composing that makes a virtue of its labour and the chance occurrences that can arise in the process.

This is music in praise of shadows. Of the things we can’t quite see, the feelings we can’t quite grasp. Heard through the haze, or maybe not at all.

As collaborative projects often do, 33 has in time found a more fixed form, a kind of structure that turned it from a loose collection of collaborators gravitating around founders Bill John Bultheel and Alexander Iezzi into something resembling more of a traditional band. Not that there is anything conventional in their creative process tho, nor in the music itself… Nontheless Tripolar - their second album and first for Haunter - seems to take them closer to song territory than ever before.

The (progressive) graduation of multi-instrumentalist Cem Dukkha and vocalist/clarinet player Ivan Cheng from collaborators to full-time members has brought 33 to a more refined awareness of their possibilities as a creative unit, although their compositional process has retained a high level of spontaneity and musical madness. Tripolar was in fact assembled by editing hours of improvisation that Bultheel, Iezzi and Dukkah recorded with no specific endgame in mind. The sessions saw them exchange a variety of acoustic, electronic and electric musical instruments: percussions, guitars, strings, piano, hurdy gurdy, synthesizers and even CDJs as a tool of live sampling manipulation.

By molding the pieces into what they are now, the band managed to concoct some beautiful vignettes of contradictory mental and emotional states, as sonically playful as a renaissance fair happening within a broken timestream. Cheng’s lyrical and vocal contributions helped them coalesce even further into proper songs, adding a melodic presence that’s at once seductive and uncanny. But vocal duties are often ceded to guests, namely Danish pop-neoclassicist Astrid Sonne, Kenyan metal guru Lord Spikeheart, Irish goth raconteur Olan Monk and Japanese body-poet Golin.The amount of different sounds arranged into each of the tracks produces a unique sense of awe and bewilderment, a testament to the incredible talent and craft the musicians have employed into putting together such a broad range of influences and approaches into a coherent and extremely effective musical journey.

An equally erratic thematic thread seems to run through all the tracks, one ultimately preoccupied with mental health and its ramifications. Without turning the project into a concept album, 33 and their collaborators have sprinkled it with references to personality disorders and mental conditions that are all too relevant to the contemporary age, reflecting on the lineage of human inner life. A wide display of lyrical and musical tools is employed to explore these themes, ranging from Sonne’s expressionist depiction of ADHD in the opener, to Cheng’s queer-themed reinvention of an Irish murder ballad in closing track ‘Babymusicc’. Tracing lateral trajectories for introspection, Tripolar is not only highly captivating, but it ultimately sounds esoteric in the best possible way: progressively revealing layer after layer of incredible aural magic, its true meaning living in the form and in its manic scope of energies.

Thomas Peter debuts on Hallow Ground with »changing bodies,« an album inspired by the resonance and reaction of objects with and to sound. The Swiss composer and sound artist has worked with sounds generated with various materials, field recordings, and an array of analogue and digital synthesizers to create five ever-shifting pieces full of twists and turns in which even silence plays a significant role. Peter composed and recorded the album over the course of four years in an inherently physical process, led by both his intuition and his perception—what you hear on »changing bodies« is an artist intently listening to the material world around him.

Peter laid the foundation for »changing bodies« by making field recordings wherever he went, whether in closed rooms, cities, or rural environments, while also recording organic-sounding material with different synthesizers as well as working with objects made of wood, stone, or metal. »I viewed all these sounds as a kind of language that I was trying to understand,« he says. »I paid close attention to differences between sounds in motion, rhythmic patterns, and dense textures.« He further describes this as an inherently corporeal endeavour, quite literally becoming all ears and internalising the different sounds.

This process of concretion led to one of abstraction when Peter translated the source material and its psycho-physical reverberations into new musical structures. He applied repetition, densification, and recombination to unlock their true potential. Across its five tracks, the album sets literally unheard-of sounds into motion, creating intricate dynamics without ever overwhelming its listeners. »changing bodies« was born out of listening intently and physically.
It is recommended to listen to it in the exact same way.

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen