Buscar:sounds like us

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Electronic music at its best offers a tantalising glimpse of the future, capturing the moment of conception where new worlds and genres are brought into being. Amsterdam-via-Berlin label Q1E2 (standing for “quality first, ego second”) embodies this expansive promise on their new various-artists compilation, a thrilling speed-run through the cosmic outer-reaches of contemporary club sounds that highlights the work of essential emerging producers from around the globe.

Milan producer Jack Bags opens the proceedings with “Natural Thing”, an astral deep-dance immersion with zero-gravity synthesizer pads and skeletal dub percussion that echo out through the void, sensuous vocal samples arriving like scattered transmissions from the stereo of some long-lost spacecraft. datSIM’s “Influx” races through kaleidoscopic sci-fi spacescapes, presenting a futuristic reimagining of UK bass sounds with dextrous organ melodics and widescreen atmospherics. Mike Riviera and Marco Ohboy bring us back down for a more earthly kind of ecstatic experience, cranking up the humidity and coaxing out the endorphins with the appropriately-titled “Euphoria” - a rugged, rave-adjacent heater that cleverly rearranges elements of classic house and garage into a decidedly modern club workout.

Elsewhere there’s a distinctive undercurrent of jazz flowing through the compilation, mapping out thrilling new evolutions of the music on and off the dancefloor. Dr Sud’s mesmeric rhythm excursion “Zaffiro” unfurls like the coils of a cosmic serpent, tessellating percussion and slinking subs tracing intricate beat geometries. A Soft Mist Production’s “Upside Down Rainbows” settles in for the afters with smoked-out soulful atmospherics, syrupy vocals curling and turning in the air like smoke vapors from the last vestiges of a still-lit cigarette. The Rabbit Hole’s “Tail Groove” closes out the proceedings with a surprising bait-and-switch - opening on lustrous lounge piano that could have been comped straight from a Bill Evans record, the track quickly gives way to interstellar bass ‘n’ breaks. The producer’s canny use of cello licks adds a grounded, organic feel, jazz futurism that recalls Photek or LTJ Bukem’s sampling experiments.

Taken together, the label’s new compilation provides a snapshot of a scene in constant evolution, taking the temperature of the modern electronic scene and finding it to be in rude health.

Written by Matthew Fidler

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

»Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds« explores sound’s relationship with architecture, inspired by the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery of NSW. Created from sound prompts responded to by artists like Jim O’Rourke and claire rousay, the work reflects on space, collaboration, and the fluid nature of sonic environments.

I like to think that sound haunts architecture.

It’s one of the truly magical interactions afforded by sound’s immateriality. It’s also something that has captivated us from the earliest times. It’s not difficult to imagine the exhilaration of our early ancestors calling to one another in the dark cathedral like caves which held wonder, and security, for them.

Today the ways in which sound occupies space, the so-called liquid architecture, holds just as much wonder, albeit one that is often dominated by functionality and form. Beyond those constraints however, how sound operates in the material world is something that exists at the fundament of our understanding of music, and moreover within the broad church we know as the canon of sound arts.

Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is a record born out of these relations. In a direct sense, the record is the product of an invitation by curator Jonathan Wilson to create a sound environment, reflecting on the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery Of NSW. The building’s name, which translates from the Gadigal language to ‘seeing water’, was opened in 2022 and this piece was offered as an atmospheric tint to visitors walking through the building throughout the year following its opening.

It’s also a record born out of a recognition for the porousness sound affords, especially as a device for collaborative endeavour. This composition is one born out of generosity and acoustic solidarity. Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is comprised not just of my sounds, but also that of an incredible array of artists who have also operated in the orbit of the Art Gallery Of NSW. The players include Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello and Vanessa Tomlinson.

The piece was constructed around two long form sound prompts that each musician responded and contributed to. These materials there when digested into the final piece you hear. The work could not exist without the substantial offerings these artists made, and I am immensely grateful to each of them.

I’ll finish with a little note that appears on the LP itself.

Place is an evolving, subjective experience of space. Spaces hold the opportunity for place, which we create moment to moment, shaped by our ways of sense-making.

Whilst the architectural and material features of space might remain somewhat constant, the people, objects, atmospheres, and encounters that fill them are forever collapsing into memory.

Lawrence English
Performed by Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello, Vanessa Tomlinson

On April 4th, Brighton-based Australian vocalist, producer, and multi-instrumentalist Penelope Trappes will release her fifth full-length album ‘A Requiem’. It comes alongside news of her signing to London imprint, One Little Independent Records. ‘A Requiem’ collects ten haunting, ambient soundscapes - incantations of dreams and nightmares, of death and grief, as well as power and autonomy. Carnal, transcendent cello drones are used to exorcise historical and generational traumas in an evocative and macabre piece of gothic experimentalism.

Seeking solitude for what she knew would be an intense and cathartic writing experience, Trappes travelled to Scotland and isolated completely. Amidst meditative and psychedelic states, she channeled demons and accessed parts of herself she’d long desired to cleanse. During candle-lit recording sessions she found herself drawn to cello, an instrument she has no formal training in, she explains, “I always felt an affinity toward the cello, I embraced it, held it, and became one with it as a way to accompany my voice. The nerve-like strings of the cello became external chords of my vocal folds… I scratched on them, leaned into them, and conjured all of the textures I could muster”.

‘A Requiem’ is a musical service in honour of the dead, a sanctuary Trappes built for herself to explore familial chaos and history. “I was looking for an equilibrium between a ‘heaven' and a ‘hell’” she explains, “screaming out to the wisdom of our foremothers - surfacing and leading me into true strength and beauty. I listened to the sorrow closely. Death is a part of our reality. Inevitable. Omnipresent. But nightmares can be beautiful”.

She continues, “This album is my personal requiem for my parents, my ties to the land where I was born, along with all of my epigenetically connected ancestors before them. The songs helped me summon up the strength to move through my own awareness of mortality, death, and impending loss. This album is a living funeral. It’s a ceremonial collection of music. It’s an externalising of the power and strength to fight the generations of abuse and darkness that my parents self-admittedly played out in their parenting and to keep it away from my own social patterns and my psyche. It’s not an uncommon thing in the world and this lamented warcry goes out to everyone to help exorcise patriarchal, political, and religious systems of abuses of power”.

Danish drummer Daniel Sommer completes his internationally acclaimed Nordic Trilogy (featured in Stereogum, Downbeat Magazine, Bandcamp"s Best of Jazz and more...) with the release of Lost Threads on March 21st, 2025, via April Records. Following As Time Passes and Sounds & Sequences, the highly anticipated third chapter features Finnish pianist Artturi Rönkä and Swedish bassist Thommy Andersson. Together, the trio embarks on a deeply introspective exploration of time, space, and their shared Nordic spirit of improvisation. Described by Sommer as "a process-oriented project prioritizing musical risk and flow," the Nordic Trilogy has sought to illuminate Nordic approaches to composition and improvisation across generational and stylistic divides. With Lost Threads, this vision culminates in a collection of music that embraces vulnerability, spontaneity, and togetherness. "Most of the music emerged as Daniel and I improvised in my living room in Helsinki," Rönkä recalls. "Later, when Thommy joined us for a couple of concerts and recording sessions... his highly personal way of playing the bass inspired Daniel and me to try to develop the music in further, unexpected directions." The result is a dynamic and emotionally resonant album, recorded live in a Helsinki studio with all three musicians in the same room, without headphones or edits whatsoever. The title track and Den ensommes dans pulse with energetic groove and rhythm, while pieces like Meditation, Silent Steps, and Forgotten Song float with a haunting, rubato lyricism. With influences ranging from Nordic folk, Western Classical music and the jazz tradition, Lost Threads continues the trilogy"s history of blurring the boundaries between composition and improvisation. The trio"s collective sound-anchored by Rönkä"s nuanced piano, Andersson"s deeply personal bass tones, and Sommer"s textural drumming-creates a sonic landscape both timeless and contemporary. As the trilogy closes, Lost Threads invites listeners into a contemplative space where silence and sound intertwine, offering a balm for the modern world"s relentless pace. True to the spirit of the Nordic Trilogy, it stands as both a conclusion and a testament to the boundless possibilities of collective improvisation.

Chris Ryan Williams (trumpet & electronics) and Lester St. Louis (cello & electronics) work together as HxH (H by H). Their skills have seen them move smoothly across various situations, constantly carving out new terrain and working in new configurations of musicians at a rapid pace. While worth reading, their biographies capture only a part of their complex rhizome.

HxH started about three years ago. The project is a direct response to all their activity with others and more importantly all their future leaning sonic desires. Their debut album STARK PHENOMENA is both their first studio recording and their first physical release. The album is appropriately set to be released by KMRU on his growing label OFNOT. It’s an ideal introduction to their sound world and their approach.

HxH describe their music as “electroacoustic,” but until recently the presence of Black musicians in this field has been greatly overlooked and largely ignored, making this phrase only partially appropriate. What HxH do really is to always be unpredictable. Every gig is a new soundscape. Sometimes you might hear echoes of Autechre or Robert Hood but then the sound-field will open up into a new terrain all their own. Chris and Lester bring together techniques from across the sound spectrum of electronic music and also draw on their deep backgrounds in Jazz, Improvisation, Classical and Noise scenes to create a sound that is true to them. After all, these two have worked with the likes of Bennie Maupin and the music of Black Fluxus artist Ben Patterson. Their rhizome is deep.

One of the ways that their unique approach manifests is in their merging of both acoustic instruments and electronic instruments in real time. This is something few have managed to do – but their spontaneous leanings work in both complex and accessible ways because of their deep understanding of landscape crafting. You can hear this clearly on the track “Pyrex Vision.” Their approach makes it tempting to compare their music to Sun Ra jamming with Laurel Halo – a comparison that would be only partly accurate.

Chris and Lester note that the sounds on STARK PHENOMENA are “imbued with such hopeful, gracious care; one that is far flung from obsessive carefulness or fuck the world carelessness, but more a caring embrace without the fuzziness of nostalgia.”

They note that when they began working together, they would “always come back to speaking on our concepts of an architecture of the expanse,” noting that their live sets often take on the joyfully noisy task of “dreaming big.” For HxH it was essential that STARK PHENOMENA have a quality that is “almost sculptural.” They consider the album “an object to be viewed from all sides.” This kind of thinking has resulted in them directly engaging with numerous sculptors and artists including Torkwase Dyson. Shape wise HxH’s sound fields work in a parallel to Dyson’s black architectural works.

They also note that the opening cut “BEACH” (the opening and longest track from the album) was “written weeks after our first gig in a studio session donated to us by our dear friend jaimie branch.” And that Pyrex Vision “was continually being edited months after sending our ‘final mixes’ to KMRU.” Their sound sources and samples come from studio sessions, live gigs, durational installations, 3am improvised downloads and more.

KMRU notes: "I think there is an in-between layer on this record. I was first caught by the Pyrex Vision track which organically flows between monologue, subtle field recording, and instrumentation. It's such a beautiful track, evoking deep emotion through simplicity. STARK PHENOMENA effortlessly glides in between imaginative mosaics of sounds — free yet complex — unlocking memories within its layers."

Perila returns with a contemplative spiritual successor to her album »7.37/2.11«, which was also released on Vaagner’s sister label A Sunken Mall back in 2022.

Featuring a collection of 8 pieces produced between 2021 and 2023, the album carries a serene vulnerability that underpins each work, drawing the listener in while gently grounding them amidst a drifting, ephemeral motion of echoing voices, droning guitars and sonorous soundscapes. Like a whispered conversation in the quiet moments of the day.

Perila has once again created a world unto itself, one that doesn’t need to be understood but simply felt. If anything, it’s an album that brings us back to the present, reminding us that the chaotic disarray of the world outside can be addressed and mitigated through our internal landscape. By embracing imperfection and forging new paths, »The Air Outside Feels Crazy Right Now« is a testament towards Perila’s ability to turn fragility into a powerful form of strength.

Japanese artists Yumiko Morioka and Takashi Kokubo unite for Gaiaphilia, a journey through ambient soundscapes that seamlessly blends Morioka’s graceful piano compositions with Kokubo’s immersive field recordings and atmospheric synthesisers.

This collaboration brings together two of Japan’s most influential pioneers in ambient and new age music, each with decades of groundbreaking work. Morioka, celebrated for her 1987 album Resonance—reissued to critical acclaim by Métron Records—infuses her introspective playing with Kokubo’s vivid environmental textures, creating a dialogue between nature and melody.

After releasing Resonance, Morioka stepped away from music, moving to America to raise her family. For years, her work was quietly cherished by fans, only gaining wider recognition with its reissue in 2020. A devastating wildfire destroyed her California home seven years ago, prompting her return to Tokyo where she became a chocolatier before rediscovering her passion for the piano in recent years, playing live shows and making new recordings.

Takashi Kokubo’s legendary discography spans over 30 years, and has found wider acclaim in recent years via YouTube algorithms and bootleg uploads, wracking up tens of millions of plays. Yet he is probably best known for his sound design work, specifically the Japanese earthquake alert sound as well as credit card payment jingles - his creations are pervasive in Japanese society.

“From our love and concern for our planet, we both offer a unique sensibility and spirit of inquiry which we express through our music.”

Rooted in shared philosophical interests, Gaiaphilia reflects a profound reverence for nature’s resilience and harmony. Themes of Gaia, Mother Earth’s renewal, and the interconnectedness of life are central, with inspirations drawn from cosmology, sacred geometry, and Japan’s mystical Katakamuna tradition. The album invites listeners into a meditative space where sound mirrors the delicate balance of the natural world.

A master of sound design, Kokubo enhances this vision with his distinctive field recordings, captured using a self-made binaural microphone shaped like a crash test dummy’s head. From the jungles of Borneo to the gentle rhythm of ocean waves, Kokubo’s globe-spanning recordings transform into immersive soundscapes that perfectly complement Morioka’s introspective piano compositions.

“The title, Gaiaphilia, is a newly created word to encompass our love and respect for nature and life, this feeling is the theme we hoped to express.”

Released on Métron Records on 12/03/25 and with artwork from Ventral Is Golden, Gaiaphilia marks a remarkable new chapter for Morioka and Kokubo. Recorded at Kokubo’s log house studio named Studio Ion in Yamanashi, their collaboration offers listeners a deeply emotional and transcendent experience, rooted in the timeless beauty of Japan’s natural landscapes.

*REPRESS* 2x12"

Poland's finest reggae dubstep export is back to guide us through the long dark winter with his highly anticipated second studio
album, Subconcious. Mat Miller solidified his position as one of the most exciting global ambassadors for the sound with his 2011
debut album and he returns to the mighty Moonshine Recordings with another killer full length selection of thick dread bassweight
and proper roots vibes. Matt's influences have always been varied, and his music's rich diversity is in full effect across the LP as he
adeptly shifts between tempos and moods, utilising his ear for melody and rhythm to create an absorbing collection of timeless
sounds. The ground shaking sub-frequencies central to each track are built to challenge soundsystems and ignite dancefloors,
whether it's on the livewire rhythms of his jungle indebted track 'Wicked Dub', the driving sonic force of the drum and bass styled
'Different Dub' or the dubbed out, skank-ready movements of tracks like 'Earthwalker' and 'Indra'. As well as the all-powerful bass
pressure, Radikal Guru works with a colourful array of instrumentation, and brings in characterful vocalists YT, Danman and Echo
Ranks to provide melodic lead and reggae lyricism on 'Stay Calm', 'Know Yourself' and 'Warning!' respectively. The final result is
shining example of modern roots/ reggae-centred music in 2013, executed brilliantly and certain to last the test of time.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Toy Tonics Music Berlin presents "Para Mytho Disco". The 2nd "Kapote" album of label founder and creative director Mathias Modica.
Keyboarder, DJ, producer, music nerd, graphic designer, multi-instrumentalist, sub-culture impressario and artist (formerly known as Munk of Gomma records.)

Kapote & Toy Tonics
In the last years Kapote was in the spotlight mainly for building the Toy Tonics label with his friends. Developing a platform for new positive quality dance music with a human touch. Toy Tonics is the opposite of the dark, druggy Techno and Trance sounds of the last years.
The warm inclusive music of Toy Tonics represents a new vibe that a young generation of diverse, stylish and culturally intersted generation of dancers loves now. Kapote's Toy Tonics became the key label for that vibe. (In 2024 Toy Tonics made 150 Toy Tonics events in 18 countries. With more than 150.000 people dancing. 90 millions streams on their music.)
Toy Tonics is more than a music label: It's a audio - visual universe. A community, almost a movement.
Based on a new positive attitude and aesthetic diversity. Mixing musicianship with DJ culture, analogue music with electronic, ideas from the past with sounds from now. To create something new. Connecting dance music with graphic design, art and underground fashion.
Kapote and his gang release vinyl, posters, shirts, art fanzines and make exhibitions and partys.

Toy Tonics started in Berlin as a underground niche project. But now became the key label of the new house, wild style disco and organic dance music scene.
Probably one of Berlin's biggest electronic music phenomena along with Keinemusik and Live from Earth.

It went fast: 2020 Kapote's crew started to make small parties in Berlin's off spaces. The "Toy Tonics Jams". The parties became "talk of the town", and Berlin clubs like Griesmühle and Panorama Bar invited the crew. Then international clubs and festival called. Toy Tonics were invited to SONAR (playing the mainstage with Kaytranada and DJ Tennis), KALA festival, Montreux Jazz festival.
Now TT has a residency at Panorama Bar Berlin and sold out events in Europe leading clubs like Phonox in London, Rex Club in Paris, Tunnel in Milan.
Toy Tonics now is the reference brand of a new generation of music loving dancers. Similar to Gomma records, Kapote's former label (2003 - 2015) that was one of the key labels of the "indie dance" scene of the Y2K years (along with DFA and Output Records).

Kapote created a multi-cultural movement with graphic designers, photographers, illustrators from the Berlin scene.
They publish the Toy Tonics Pocket Poster magazine, posters and design shirts. They organize the Toy Tonics Pop Up Galleries mixing music and art. In underground venues in Berlin and in new gallery spaces and museums around Europe.
Toy Tonics has been invited by Palais de Tokio museum in Paris, Triennale Museum Berlin, Design week Milano to create events.
The new Kapote album
The 12 tracks have a very own style. Based on dance music, but going much further. "Para Mytho Disco' is a futuristic mix of sounds. It's far away from the dark monotone techno and trance music from Kapote's hometown Berlin. Instead, he creates warm friendly atmospheres full of sonic colours and little musical surprises.
Kapote's knowlege of music history and his backround as a jazz piano student and son of classic music composer is clearly inside this music. Before turning into a DJ and electronic music producer he has been playing in bands since he was 13 years old.
The album is full of emotional chord progressions played by Kapote on various keyboards. Sometimes reminding music from the past, without being retro at all. The basslines and melodies are inspired by jazz fusion from the 1970ies. And he programmed syncopated grooves that come from afro-american dance music. There are influences from Japanese electronic music (Yellow Magic Orchestra), from 1980s Synthwave and from 1990s electronica (like Squarepusher and Luke Vibert).

Kapote plays keys, bass, flutes and percussions, he plays synth solos and sings on a few tracks. The complexity of the arrangements makes this music never boring. Lot of melodies and solos that catch the listener. Colourful soundscapes that make you want to listen or dance to this album more, and discover details also after you heard it several times.

Kapote background

Before starting Toy Tonics, Kapote used to run a label called Gomma. He produced four albums under the name Munk and music for other artists.
He produced music with Peaches, Franz Ferdinand founder Nick McCarthy, with New York street art legend The Rammellzee, Italian actress Asia Argento, the first three albums of WhoMadeWho and worked with LCD Soundsystem (listen to "Kick out the chairs", the Munk song with James Murphy )
In those "Gomma days" Kapote aka Munk was also one of the main DJs for VICE magazine parties and made music for art projects and fashion brands (Margiela, Prada, Colette).
In 2015 he stopped Munk and Gomma and started Toy Tonics. He found young producers and helped to develop their sound (Coeo, Cody Currie, Gee Lane, Barbara Boeing, Sam Ruffillo). Later he founded the sublabel Kryptox to release music by Berlin based bands that make new forms of jazz or neo classical sounds.

Under the name Kapote Mathias didnt release much:
Only his Kapote debut album "What it is" (2019) and an EP called "Electric Slide" (2022) and a collabo EP with Italian producer Sam Ruffillo ("Robot Salsa").

An although his Munk and Kapote music was an underground phenomena his music has always been a favourite of many great people from the scene.
Supported by DJs like Harvey, Chromeo, Moodymann, Jennifer Cardini, Gerd Janson, MYD, Andrew Weatherall to Blessed Madonna, Justice and Laurent Garnier… to name just a few.

Apollo / R&S are delighted to welcome back The Primitive Painter, aka the duo of Roman Flügel and Jörn Elling Wuttke for a timely reissue of their 1994 lost classic self-titled album of sonorous IDM.

Growing up in Frankfurt, in the 80s and 90s the duo met at an indie rock club in their home town of Darmstadt, bonding over their shared obsession with the first wave of acid, Chicago house and early Detroit techno as well as their patronage of now iconic Frankfurt club nights like The Omen or Dorian Gray or the infamous Delirium Record shop run by scene stalwarts Ata (Robert Johnson) and Heiko MSO (Playhouse).

Taking inspiration from the likes of The Black Dog and Transmat as well as seminal compilations such as Planet E’s Intergalactic Beats and Warp’s Artificial intelligence compilation the duo honed their inventive take on the Detroit techno blueprint under the monicker Acid Jesus, debuting on their freshly minted Klang Elektronik label. The label was started in conjunction with Ata and Heiko after Fluegel & Wuttke (regular patrons of the Delirium store) pressed a demo on them, muttering the immortal line; “Please listen to the tape, we are big Mr. Fingers fans.”

Through the mid ’90s the project flourished giving rise to a classic album and a brace of singles that number amongst the best of the era’s techno, winning them a influential fans most notably Sven Väth, David Holmes and Andrew Weatherall who invited them to play live at one of the legendary Sabresonic parties in London.

Alongside the success of the Acid Jesus project, the duo found great inspiration in outside of the club, including an ambient happening when the KLF came to play Frankfurt; “There were live sheep eating grass on stage while they played at Mark Spoon’s club XS”, as well as cinematic influence from the likes of Jim Jarmush and Wim Wenders. It was however the euphonic IDM grandeur of Apollo Recordings self titled compilation of 1993 that really got their creative juices flowing: “It was a ten track compilation with artists like David Morley, Model 500, Aphex Twin which still sounds so good today,” Jörn enthuses. “ It was really the trigger to go away from the Detroit sound and more towards the big melodies of B12 etc.”

Deciding to make their tribute to this style of music the duo turned out 10 tracks of gauzy, melodious electronica in a white hot fever, one after another over the ensuing months. Settling on a name for the new project they picked ‘The Primitive Painters’ taking inspiration from the band Felt. “We are both children of the C86 movement,” explains Jörn. “this attitude of noisy art school influenced rock like Primal Scream, MBV, The Jesus & Mary Chain really inspired us to take a DIY approach to our music.”

They sent the resulting demo cassette to Renaat at R&S / Apollo. “We really had no expectations,” Jörn explains. “So we were shocked and delighted when we received a fax saying that he wanted to release it”.

The resulting release was bungled by an R&S mix up that attributed the album to the duo’s own Klang Elektronik label which confused both fans and distributors alike, denying the release the critical boost and attention that it so richly deserved. Accordingly the release slipped out without much fanfare, with a chastened Fluegel & Wuttke returning to their Acid Jesus activities which would eventually lead to their blockbusting success as Alter Ego.

Over the ensuing years the reputation of The Primitive Painter album has only grown, with second hand copies (only 500 vinyl were pressed) changing hands for exorbitant amounts on Discogs, leading us to this opportune moment of a richly deserved ‘first’ release on the label for which the project was started, Apollo / R&S.

“This really brings us full circle,” says Jörn. “Apollo / R&S meant and means so much to us as artists and so it was bittersweet to not have the official release - to put that right all these years later feels really good.”

This new vinyl release comes in re-created original gatefold artwork and includes all original 10 tracks (Stoned Soul Picnic was previously on the CD only).

"Daft Punk brought me here, he brought me Daft Punk"

Just knowing that this slice of hyper-rare disco dynamite was crafted by Thomas Bangalter's dad should be enough for you to buy this on sight, if only to understand a little bit more about Thomas and Daft Punk's background. But this is so much more than a Daft Punk family curio.

Born Bangalter in 1947, Daniel Vangarde is a French songwriter and producer. In 1975, Vangarde founded his label, Zagora Records, who we have worked closely with on this lovingly curated reissue. For years, Vangarde wrote and produced songs that remained underground, under several pseudonyms and for various artists. Dubbed "the secret father of French disco" this here groove-fulled firecracker - using his Who’s Who moniker - is for disco-funk, library music and cosmic beat lovers.

The intense, evocative opener "Palace Palace" positively throbs with raw energy and sounds, honestly, like something off Daft Punk's Discovery. The title refers to the fashionable Parisian club Le Palace, essentially the Parisian Studio 54. "I’d been to a nightclub in New York, a big ring where people were roller skating with a whistle. The atmosphere was great. The music was all disco. I made this song when I came back. A vocoder transformed my voice. Back then, it wasn’t used much." The track rides a killer groove and is deceptively complex, with layers of fantastic percussion and ace synth work going on all over it. Listed to on repeat, it's brilliance is simply undeniable.

The louche, slo-mo heater "Hypno Dance" is, in Be With's opinion, *the* deadly dancefloor track. A svelte slice of ace space disco again geared towards the roller skating dance mania of the day. So deep, so disco, so instrumental. An unreal track and, as the title hints at, totally hypnotic. The side closes with the somewhat throwaway "Popeden" - it's a jaunty number that you're probably best skipping, in all honesty. Have we ever steered you wrong?

The B-Side opens with the frankly enormous "Roll Jacky Roll" is another thrilling, high class roller-rink jam with beautiful melodies that's adored the world over. The wonky, abstract "Ad Libitum 80" is a super dope, swirling, staccato electro-funk bounce which sounds light years ahead of its time. This might be the real lowkey sleeper gem on this record. CHECK! This remarkable LP rounds out with the huge "Dancin' Machine". It's got sleek drums that emit an absolutely ace swagger and elements of Italo synth funk feels. A relaxed, slow rhythm throughout ensures you can't help but get your funk on when this crashes soundsystems. We'll leave the final word on this to Daniel: "It amuses me to think that my son Thomas was influenced by "Dancin’ Machine" for "Around The World", he says. Both songs being based on an hypnotic repetitive refrain. Both songs being, of course, timeless pieces of Euro genius.

Who's Who really is a fantastic late-70s-early 80s roller disco-funk essential. The audio has been carefully remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring it sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry in Holland.

When it came to the sleeve for this we were presented with an unusual problem: we usually have to rely on an original sleeve as the starting point for the restoration, but instead we were able to scan the original 35mm transparency of the front cover photo. The problem is that with a modern scanner the results were far sharper than when they made the original sleeve. We’ve played around with the exposure and the colour grading but we’re sorry to say that our version of the front cover still ended up looking too good! Don’t hate us.

»Re:Polyism« is a track-by-track reinterpretation of Friedrich »Fritz« Brückner’s 2022 debut solo album as Modus Pitch, »Polyism,« through artists affiliated with Altin Village & Mine and/or former collaborators of the prolific Leipzig-based musician and producer. Each track from »Polyism« has been remixed or reworked by different artists such as Modeselektor, Angel Bat Dawid, Maya Shenfield or Mouse on Mars member and HJirok producer Andi Toma, but the album—mastered by Tim Roth a.k.a. Sin Maldita and released as a strictly limited vinyl LP with reimagined artwork by Carmen Orschinski—follows the original record’s tracklist. This makes »Re:Polyism« a veritable musical prism, refracting the creativity inherent to Brückner’s genre-transcending original works through other people’s artistic lenses to create an even more colourful end result.

First off are the Gebrüder Teichmann with their take on opener »Drive,« carefully adding more depth and uncanny sounds to the jazzy, drum-focused piece. Unsurprisingly, Modeselektor go a lot further with their remix »Rainbow,« turning the two-minute track into a dubstep-adjacent banger with infectious synth work that is twice as long and comes with a mind-melting breakdown. With their take on »Hilltop Jacuzzi,« Peaking Lights turn the blissful original into a piece that calls to mind experiments at the intersection of dub, ambient, and industrial music in the mid-1990s. Cloud Management radically transform the eerie »Compound Eye Dialogue« into a rhythmically charged mid-tempo post-krautrock epic, while the Seekers International’s »Jelly Roll Dub« of »Gelée Royale« uses the original’s lush textures to turn up the intensity even further.

On the flipside, Andi Thoma gives the intricate synth pop/breakcore fusion of »Suspender« a similarly dubwise treatment before venturing into gqom territory, pulling it out of the leftfield and straight onto the dancefloor—peak-time use only. Maya Shenfeld then brings her trademark modular synth work to »Outer Veil,« accentuating the focus on Hendrik Otremba’s uncanny spoken word performance even further. This sets the mood perfectly for vocal experimentalist Agnese Menguzzato working her singular magic. Under her hands and with her voice, the multi-layered ambient soundscapes of »Lava Fans« become even larger-than-life-like than before. When Angel Bat Dawid takes the menacing drones of »Iridescent Path« as a template for a trap-inspired beat over which she lets loose on the clarinet, that serves as both the ultimate counterpoint and perfect coda to »Re:Polyism.«

These nine reinterpretations of the highly diverse source material underline Brückner’s singular approach to music-making while also emphasising their makers’ idiosyncratic talents. This makes »Re:Polyism« more than simply a remix album—it’s a polylogue between visionary minds.

‘LIVE. SHIFT. DREAM.’ : three words for a first EP that invites you to embrace existence, shift gears when opportunities arise and keep your hopes and ambitions alive. That's what PAMELA is all about: electric energy, raw momentum, urgency. There's no time to get bogged down, it's all there in front of us, so let's make the most of it.



In this EP, each track is a facet of themselves, a distillation of their influences and raw energy. ‘Focused’ opens like an adrenalin rush, oscillating between desire and loss of control. ‘G.R.E.A.T.’ ? An explosive Britpop anthem, celebrating individuality with saturated synths and a heady riff. ‘IDNTKNWYT’ invites you to let go and dance without restraint. Then there's ‘Lover's Potion’, which reveals a softer, more intimate side, with a retro, hushed voice that's transporting.



And that's not all: ‘Full Sentimental’ is a powerful confession, where nostalgia becomes an outlet, while ‘Put out the Fire’ burns with urgency and sounds the alarm about the current climate situation.



Co-produced with Pierre Cheguillaume (who also produced Zaho de Sagazan), their tracks oscillate between LCD Soundsystem, The Cure, and Soulwax, blending into dance music tinged with indie rock and britpop. Showcasing their full power live, PAMELA will perform at La Maroquinerie (Paris) in March, after supporting Zaho de Sagazan on her Arena tour.



‘LIVE. SHIFT. DREAM.’ is more than just a start for PAMELA: it's an invitation to feel, to vibrate, and never stop.

SC returns with a full length LP showcasing his vast armoury of musical ability in a controlled, contemplative reflection of his inner self, laid bare in breaks-driven form for the enjoyment of Spatial fans new and old - continuing the ongoing celebration and evolution of classic atmospheric drum & bass.

A1 - Fear of the Deep

Curious, high twinkling bells cautiously introduce Fear of the Deep, reminiscent of classic sci-fi movies building atmosphere and intrigue, before the hi-hat heavy, snappy break previously used in Spatial classic Essence (also by ASC) makes a welcome return. The 2-step - occasionally broken - beat pattern drives the track along with a darkly, investigative energy, while a typically deep bassline rumbles beneath, setting the scene perfectly.

A2 - Concentric Circles

A change of pace for ASC here with Concentric Circles, exploring a jazzier spectrum of influences not often broached in his production adventures, with broken scattershot beats toying and playing around a wealth of reverberating brass samples to create a minimal yet quietly imposing undertone. Double bass props up the composition wonderfully, completing an exquisitely quirky entry to the LP.

B1 - Say It

Opening with rousing strings and quietly ominous effects, ASC utilises a unique fusion of melancholic atmospherics, jazzy basslines and a classic old-school breakbeat to form Say It. Dense, purposeful kicks stomp across the mix as the strings and synthwork wash in the foreground, developing a sombre, contemplative tone to the track throughout, before a wonderful outro ending with those delightful strings.

B2 - Virtual World

Filtered Hot Pants breaks gently ease their way to the forefront of a beautifully constructed intro to Virtual World, trademark crispness and intricacy etched onto the beats effortlessly, as we've come to expect from ASC. Delicately nuanced vocal samples combine with an intense concoction of synths and micro-melodies, dancing over the sharp breaks and a suitably earthy undertone bassline.

C1 - Eons

The classic, intense atmospherics continue with Eons, a spacey piece introduced by a memorable melody, tinged with purpose and allure. This melody continues through sci-fi computer FX reminiscent of early 720, and persistent backdrop synths as we are treated to a gentle flurry of perfectly edited amens leaping and falling over subtle, juddering basslines creating that elusive blend of both headphone and dancefloor appeal.

C2 - Timeslides

ASC flexes the timeless Hot Pants break again - crisply edited with a sharpness in the mix which is simply to die for - in Timeslides, a track which continues the brooding, introspective tone of the LP. Utilising a varied array of samples and effects which will transport you straight back to that unmistakable era of 90's atmospheric heaven with several nods to forefathers of this wonderful sound - just how we like it at Spatial.

D1 - Lightspeed

Take a moment to appreciate the bells tolling, glimmering and colliding during an enchanting intro, freely crafting layered melodies without a care as ASC presents us with an immensely memorable piece in Lightspeed. Long, elongated vocals drift and swirl through the airy soundscape, all punctuated by finely tuned and arranged Circles breaks, energetically deployed for the discerning breakbeat aficionado.

D2 - Nightvision

Intensity is dialled up to 11 in Nightvision, a deeply atmospheric track which showcases a perfect, symbiotic combination of melancholy, drama and raw energy. The lively breaks take center stage over a heavy, consistent 808 bassline with enveloping masses of atmospherics circling, gripping your attention, joined by dreamy vocal samples deployed subtly in an ever-changing tone to close the LP in style.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Look At Us Now: the long-awaited debut album from Song Festival sensation Gustaph!

"I wanted to make a record that makes people feel good about themselves."

Good things come to those who wait: after more than 20 years as a musician, Gustaph is releasing his debut album, Look At Us Now. The title is a phrase from the song Because Of You, which won him seventh place at the Eurovision Song Contest in 2023.

"Look At Us Now may be taken literally," Gustaph explains. "Look where we are now after 20 years of hardwork. And look where we are with the queer movement: as a queer artist, I can openly be myself and sing about the things that are important to me."

Gustaph's soulful voice takes us through various themes, from believing in yourself and fickle lovers to chosen family and loss.

Look At Us Now is a pop record infused with nineties house, dance and disco, but we also spot a ballad (Miss You The Most) and two Scandi-pop tracks: Like You, an ode to love and Darker Days, an epic track that will pull you through bleak periods with panache.

"I wanted to make a record that makes people feel good about themselves," Gustaph says. "One that they put on while getting ready to go out or just to start the day. A little pick-me-up that makes them think: Yes, now I can kick ass."

When you play the record for the first time, you'll already be able to sing along to a bunch of tracks: there's Because Of You of course, butalso more recent singles like Already Know, Faith In What You Feel and Calls Your Name.

The record was produced in London with Richard X, known for his work with Róisín Murphy, Alison Goldfrapp and Pet Shop Boys, among others. "That's very close to who I am as an artist, so that collaboration just made sense," Gustaph explains.

Look At Me Now sounds like a party where everyone is welcome. The club tour kicks off at Ancienne Belgique. Come celebrate!

SPIL Records follows up its impressive vinyl debut here with a second 12" release featuring fresh tracks from label head Jack Swift and Scott Diaz. Diaz kicks off with 'Like Dis' which is all classic US house drums and bouncy bass, then Timmy P & Lunoize's 'Ouch' is a swirling, vocal-laced party starter. Swift then offers 'Burning' which is a lively garage house cut with throwback diva vocals. Devstar's Feel The Vibe remix shuts down with some more naughty, dark and dirty bassline sounds perfect for pumping up the floor.

QUEENDOM is an album that marks a new era for the project while staying true to the essence of Minuit Machine. Produced under the SYNTH RELIGION label, this opus immerses us in Amandine's introspective realm, oscillating between darkness and light, between doubt and self-conquest. While retaining the emotional DNA of previous productions, QUEENDOM stands out with a more pop-oriented touch, featuring tracks where Amandine sings in French for the first time.

The first single, "HOLD ME," is a powerful pop anthem addressed to the queer community, celebrating the freedom to be oneself and breaking free from societal and patriarchal norms. This track is a true empowerment statement, with striking electro beats supporting a strong message of emancipation and pride.

"Créatures," a collaboration between RAUMM and Minuit Machine, is a modern fairy tale—a timeless love story that could take place in any era. This salvific love, rarely seen today, embodies a poignant depth and beauty.

Continuing the journey, "Cent Fois"—a French-written track—takes us into a techno-pop universe with nostalgic yet hopeful undertones. This song perfectly reflects Minuit Machine's evolution toward a more radiant approach while staying faithful to its dark heritage.

"Party People," on the other hand, is a return to roots with dark wave/italo sounds. This hypnotic and haunting track questions identity in an increasingly robotic society, where individuals are forced to conform to imposed norms. This exploration of the individual versus the collective lies at the core of Minuit Machine's DNA.

"Mes Souvenirs," created in collaboration with Rebeka Warrior, dives intimately into the memories of Amandine and Rebeka. Together, they reveal fragments of their past—precious and vibrant memories that resonate through powerful and melancholic electro sounds.

Finally, the eponymous track "Queendom" invites us to plunge into the depths of Amandine's world—a universe that is both tormented and icy, yet resilient. Supported by a slow and captivating rhythm, this track is designed to grip and haunt the listener, like an incantation.

QUEENDOM is a bold and hybrid work where each track reflects a pursuit of sincerity and artistic reinvention while maintaining the ability to express emotions through rhythms that are both danceable and introspective. The album showcases Minuit Machine's artistic maturity, establishing itself as a must-listen in the darkwave and electronic pop scene.

Amandine entrusted the artistic direction of this album to Manon Dupeyrat, a brilliant young artist who crafted a bespoke universe perfectly aligned with the produced tracks. The album cover, both intimate and anachronistic, invites listeners into Amandine's private world through her bedroom, revealing what she wishes to share.

Measure Divide makes his full debut EP for Mutual Rytm X with his latest release, 'Everything Is Porridge'.

Karachi-born artist Measure Divide now resides in Toronto, where his FORMAT parties have revived the techno scene over the last decade. In that time, he has eschewed techno by numbers with innovative sounds on Clergy and Mutual Rytm while appearing at iconic clubs like Berghain, K41 and Tresor. Outside of the underground, he has years of experience in sound design and scoring for animations and films, and that is what he channels here into a uniquely playful sound with a vibrant and playful departure from his usual serious tones for his first full EP on SHDW's Mutual Rytm X.

A record for adventurous DJs and listeners craving bold, mischievous and innovative sounds, the EP's title, inspired by an inside joke about calling anything edible "porridge", reflects the chaotic and unpredictable state of the world - a mushy mix of uncertainty. This same unpredictability shines through the tracks, which combine techno, breaks, modular experimentation and plenty more.

The superbly original title cut begins with a restless mix of unusual percussive sounds and fizzing synths over thudding drums. It's tense and twisted and sounds like nothing else. 'Wormy Wonderland' is another brilliantly outthere cut with freaky noises and scuzzy textures over body-popping techno drums, and 'Eeeeeermmmm' then slows down with a menacing synth buzz and caustic broken beats. Digital bonus tracks 'Shrew Cascade' and 'Clumsy Clatter' further challenge techno norms with watery sound effects, twisted synth lines and inventive rhythmical patterns.

"Float like a butterfly and sting like a bee" said the famous boxer Mohammed Ali, in reference to his legendary strike. This punchline also works wonderfully in music, listening to Roseaux's third album. A French success story, created with all modesty and honesty by the Parisian trio: Emile Omar, Alex Finkin and Clément Petit.

The three musketeers of sound cultivate their know-how, now acclaimed by critics and an ever-growing audience since their first project in 2012. It took them time to take a step back and gain perspective in order to offer us a return that is both joyful and resounding.

Roseaux takes root on the banks of soul, folk, jazz, and songs from all eras, a cascade of inexhaustible sounds, where the three composers draw their inspiration and merge their experiences.

The leaves of Roseaux soar to the breath of wonderful voices, chosen with precision by the three friends, like that of the American singer Aloe Blacc, present since the beginning of the adventure, essential enchanter of the three episodes.

Conceived as a dreamlike escapade full of emotions, on the fringes of the massive, instantaneous and often disembodied production, Roseaux is a totally artisanal group, a sort of UFO in the French musical landscape, which operates on instinct and above all on desire.

Thus, Roseaux has become an expert in bringing together, for the duration of a record, the artists who specifically form the DNA of their host: captivating voices, a plot on the piano and cello, but also encounters and reunions, in a poetic and deliberately nebulous universe.

A welcoming nebula, where the listener is invited to listen and immerse themselves without hindrance, in a luxuriant, wild, exciting sound forest. This third album is the work of 3 music lovers, capable of switching roles: writing, arrangements, production, from which emerge this time, eleven tracks with chiseled melodies including three colorful and unusual instrumentals.

A journey between melancholy and euphoria, which led Roseaux to the ends of the planet, from the Caribbean to Europe via Africa to unearth other vibrations and unique performers: the captivating Grenadian-British singer Ala.ni, the little English afropop prince from Ghana, Ghetto Boy, and the disturbing Swedish Isabel Sörling, sign here a first flamboyant collaboration with the group.

While the talented Haitian-Canadian Mélissa Laveaux, the hypnotic Scandinavian singer Olle Nyman, the sparkling French-Canadian Anna Majidson and our remarkable national Ben, already present on the second part, still manage to create a surprise by revealing new aspects of their range.

Roseaux's voices are decidedly impenetrable and its magic is renewed today by making the strength of all these scintillating elements dialogue, to be discovered in a setting of softness and voluptuousness.

Nature is full of reeds, this one is unique.

We are thrilled to announce another underground gem on our label. This time, it's Collage's incredible 4-track EP "Mit den Puppen tanzen" (Dancing With The Puppets). Originally released in 1984 on the small FMusic label, the 12" EP is a true highlight in German Electro and NDW history, becoming a sought-after item among collectors. It features intense lyrics by singer Katrin A. Kunze, with music composed by Markus Kammann and Jürgen Grah.

Kammann and Grah, both originally from Solingen - a small city near Wuppertal - had previously collaborated on the new wave project Schwarze Bewegung with a different singer. Their self-titled LP was released in 1982 on Bacillus/Bellaphon. During this period, the electro sound pioneered by Kraftwerk evolved into electro-funk, sparked by the release of Afrika Bambaataa's groundbreaking track "Planet Rock", which achieved global acclaim. The iconic Roland TR-808 drum machine, masterfully employed by Arthur Baker's production team, revolutionized dance music with further hits like "Looking for the Perfect Beat" and collaborations with Planet Patrol. Markus Kammann cites these tracks, along with black music as a whole, as key influences on his work. In contrast, much of the electronic music emerging from Germany at the time rather leaned towards the styles of artists like Klaus Schulze and Tangerine Dream. Kammann's influences are evident in Collage's EP, which incorporates elements of early electronic hip-hop, such as the scratching sounds in the title track (created with tape rather than turntables) and short rap segments in "Niemals zurück".

By this time, Kammann and Grah had acquired their own Roland 808 as well as a JUNO-60 keyboard. Grah, originally a drummer, played keyboards and vibraphone, while Kammann, primarily a guitarist, also played bass. All the lyrics on the EP were written and performed by Kathrin A. Kunze, who hailed from Cuxhaven, a northern German city. She moved to Wuppertal around 1983 to study literature, and the group Collage was born.

Through Uwe Bauer, drummer of Fehlfarben, and their manager Horst Lüdge (of Profil), Collage connected with Werner Lambertz, a legendary sound technician from Düsseldorf. Lambertz's state-of-the-art studio featured custom-built sequencers capable of triggering the JUNO-60, as well as expensive equipment like a vocoder. Over the course of a week, the group completed all four tracks.

The EP's hard yet playful electro beats were complemented by Kunze's distinctive performance and introspective lyrics, which lent the songs a uniquely German and wavy touch. Her subtle songwriting conveyed a sense of paranoia and sorrow, as seen in lines like "Ich glaub mir selber nicht. Wer hält denn schon, was er verspricht?" ("I don't believe myself. Who stays true to their word, anyway?").

Unfortunately, the EP was never properly promoted and was distributed solely through the independent market via EFA. Despite this, Collage continued working on new material and pre-recorded an album that garnered label's attention. Polydor expressed interest but proposed using the compositions for a solo project with singer Inga Humpe (of Neonbabies), who was already signed to their roster. This would have required replacing Kunze as the vocalist, an idea the group firmly rejected. As a result, the album was never released. In 1987, Kammann, Grah, and Kunze launched another project called Cold End, which released another brilliant and highly sought-after 12" single, Metropolitan Jungle, originally issued on Tam Tam and recently re-released.

The first-ever reissue of "Mit den Puppen tanzen" is limited to only 400 copies - 200 on classic black vinyl and 200 on blue transparent vinyl. The cover art remains true to the original 12" release, designed by the aforementioned Uwe Bauer (aka Bimbo Art). This reissue is a must-have for DJs and collectors alike

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

"The Beatles spread the use of electric guitars all through the world, and Bolivia was no exception. “The British Invasion” hit a politically convulsed country, and it fell upon a rich multi-cultural scene that was further expanded when the psychedelic counterculture youth movements coming from San Francisco also took the hearts of the country’s youngsters.
It was a big mixture of influences thrown in a cauldron that saw a link between the LSD drenched hippie generation and the country’s native ancestors. Bolivians were not new to mind-expanding experiences, the acid experiences promoted in the USA by Ken Kesey and Timothy Leary found their local counterpart in the old indigenous traditions of using plants such as the ayahuasca to open their doors of perception.
On this compilation you will find some of the more interesting young bands from a 1960s Bolivia bringing the sounds of a new generation and marrying them with the rich musical background of the country. The garage-sounding psychedelic beat made by these young musicians would soon open new horizons, and Bolivia would soon see how traditional sounds, like their local version of the cumbia, would evolve in a similar way as it would do in the neighboring country of Perú."

Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”

Mute US is excited to announce the release of Dance Therapy, the sophomore album from worldwide signing Nora Schjelderup, aka Ora the Molecule. The album will be available on black vinyl and digital formats on March 21st. Dance Therapy follows a transformative period for Schjelderup, whose DJ career took off postpandemic. She has shared the stage with fellow Norwegian legends like Todd Terje and Lindstrøm, and opened for Røyksopp, earning her the title of Norway’s queen of disco. Inspired by her DJ sets, ‘70s sci-fi sounds and Italo-disco, Dance Therapy is a retro-futuristic fever dream which Schjelderup crafted in a remote cabin in the woods while navigating a series of severe losses. “I had a lot of pain,” she reflects. “This was my own way of dealing with it. A way to get energy back in the body.”
For Fans Of: Robyn, Neil Frances, Fever Ray, Todd Terje, Raffaella Carrà, Goldfrapp, Daft Punk

Fourteen records in eight years. Side-projects records, experimental EPs, a double album of B-sides, splits and collections of demos: in just a few years, Bordeaux-born Thoineau Palis has built up a discography as fascinating as it is plethoric, in which he pays tribute in his own way to the heroes of a rock pantheon all his own, populated by lofi geeks and beautiful losers of all kinds.

Negative Freaks, TH da Freak's fifteenth album, sets the record straight in a way, since it's the first album by TH da Freak "the band", a collective incarnation hitherto reserved for the stage. This first album, composed entirely by the five of them, breaks a pattern established several years ago, with Thoineau contributing finished compositions that were then reworked collectively for live performance. The 5 Bordelais impose on themselves the use of what they call the "negative scale", dissonant and disturbing sonorities that they apply to compositions initially structured as pop tracks. This approach, combined with the casual, surreal lyrics written by Palis (influenced by intensive listening to the likes of Oingo Boingo, Devo and P-Model), lends an unprecedented coherence to the tracks on the album. Negative Freaks sounds like a massive grunge monolith, driven by a collective, radical vision that is assertive from start to finish. Impressive for a debut album

We are thrilled to announce another underground gem on our label. This time, it's Collage's incredible 4-track EP "Mit den Puppen tanzen" (Dancing With The Puppets). Originally released in 1984 on the small FMusic label, the 12" EP is a true highlight in German Electro and NDW history, becoming a sought-after item among collectors. It features intense lyrics by singer Katrin A. Kunze, with music composed by Markus Kammann and Jürgen Grah.

Kammann and Grah, both originally from Solingen - a small city near Wuppertal - had previously collaborated on the new wave project Schwarze Bewegung with a different singer. Their self-titled LP was released in 1982 on Bacillus/Bellaphon. During this period, the electro sound pioneered by Kraftwerk evolved into electro-funk, sparked by the release of Afrika Bambaataa's groundbreaking track "Planet Rock", which achieved global acclaim. The iconic Roland TR-808 drum machine, masterfully employed by Arthur Baker's production team, revolutionized dance music with further hits like "Looking for the Perfect Beat" and collaborations with Planet Patrol. Markus Kammann cites these tracks, along with black music as a whole, as key influences on his work. In contrast, much of the electronic music emerging from Germany at the time rather leaned towards the styles of artists like Klaus Schulze and Tangerine Dream. Kammann's influences are evident in Collage's EP, which incorporates elements of early electronic hip-hop, such as the scratching sounds in the title track (created with tape rather than turntables) and short rap segments in "Niemals zurück".

By this time, Kammann and Grah had acquired their own Roland 808 as well as a JUNO-60 keyboard. Grah, originally a drummer, played keyboards and vibraphone, while Kammann, primarily a guitarist, also played bass. All the lyrics on the EP were written and performed by Kathrin A. Kunze, who hailed from Cuxhaven, a northern German city. She moved to Wuppertal around 1983 to study literature, and the group Collage was born.

Through Uwe Bauer, drummer of Fehlfarben, and their manager Horst Lüdge (of Profil), Collage connected with Werner Lambertz, a legendary sound technician from Düsseldorf. Lambertz's state-of-the-art studio featured custom-built sequencers capable of triggering the JUNO-60, as well as expensive equipment like a vocoder. Over the course of a week, the group completed all four tracks.

The EP's hard yet playful electro beats were complemented by Kunze's distinctive performance and introspective lyrics, which lent the songs a uniquely German and wavy touch. Her subtle songwriting conveyed a sense of paranoia and sorrow, as seen in lines like "Ich glaub mir selber nicht. Wer hält denn schon, was er verspricht?" ("I don't believe myself. Who stays true to their word, anyway?").

Unfortunately, the EP was never properly promoted and was distributed solely through the independent market via EFA. Despite this, Collage continued working on new material and pre-recorded an album that garnered label's attention. Polydor expressed interest but proposed using the compositions for a solo project with singer Inga Humpe (of Neonbabies), who was already signed to their roster. This would have required replacing Kunze as the vocalist, an idea the group firmly rejected. As a result, the album was never released. In 1987, Kammann, Grah, and Kunze launched another project called Cold End, which released another brilliant and highly sought-after 12" single, Metropolitan Jungle, originally issued on Tam Tam and recently re-released.

The first-ever reissue of "Mit den Puppen tanzen" is limited to only 400 copies - 200 on classic black vinyl and 200 on blue transparent vinyl. The cover art remains true to the original 12" release, designed by the aforementioned Uwe Bauer (aka Bimbo Art). This reissue is a must-have for DJs and collectors alike

A new artist appears on the streets of City HC Records, he is Andrey Orenstein
multidisciplinary artist, part of the alternative Rock band ‘Tequilajazz’, with several solo musical incarnations such as: Amor Entrave, for electronic Indie beats with tocuhes of IDM of broken beats, Do you like trains? for Acid House, and 50DIX, dedicated to street beats such as jungle, drum n bass, ghetto house, Juke and Footwork, and the pseudonym he uses for Go Ahead! EP, the new and multifaceted 22nd release from the Valencian label.

IF U WANT 2 is the elegant track that takes us into the bustling avenues of the 2st century megapolis, where the urban rhythms of the dance battles in Chicago, Footwork and Juke, along with brief Jungle passages alternate in a brilliant composition with funk and jazz nuances accompanying tight percussion and distorted kicks at 160 BPM.

Tough and Ghetto House and rugged acid define FOOLZ, second track of the A-side in which the demonic power of the 303 sounds embrace the thick and husky voice that together with infectious laughter set a rhythm as pugnacious as it is playful.

FETTA DI LIMONE, Juke, Footwork and Jungle, a perfect combination of American influences, legacy of Dj Rashad together with the English tradition around bass music, are fused by 50DIX with the unexpected and playful Italian lyrics of Tomasso Girardi, in perfect conjunction with the pianos, ethereal pads and mutant synths, that forge the development of the track. Already anthemic before the first beat sounds.

Juke, IDM, Halftime and abstract broken beats combine for the ultimate dance elixir, in the last track of the vinyl titled ICE FEELS KEEN, reaching 170 BPM in a catharsis of braindance, soul and acid exaltation in a dreamy harmony, where the syncopated notes of Oleg Egorov's bass and the velvety voice of Julia Garnits (Ice Hokku) commune.

Bonus digital track - 50Dix ICE FEELS KEEN (DZA REFLIP). Hypnotic, sharp and minimalistic, DZA's remix transforms the original track into an intimate and evocative experience, in which every sonic element acquires more prominence and presence.

Bonus digital track 2 - Fetta di limone (Kaxtelian remix) Inspired by the classic hardtrance sounds of the 90s, from Valencian dance temples such as Chocolate, Kaxtelian reinterprets the track with distorted drums, catchy melodies and Rave spirit at 165 bpm.

Mastering by Steve Voidloss at Black Monolith Studios in London (UK), except for the Bonus track 2 mastered by Raszia.

Once again, artwork and design by Dani Requeni, giving artistic coherence to the label's aesthetic.

An imperial phase Actress commits a lushly amorphous installation piece made for the Berliner Festspiele to vinyl, rendering a post-industrial symphony full of iridescent shifts in gyring, OOBE-like spatial coordinates landing somewhere between nutopian ambient, kankyō ongaku and sawn-off bass science.

‘Grey Interiors’ was made in collaboration with Actual Objects and is an absorbing animation and navigation of those post-human ideals that have prompted Darren J. Cunningham to his best work across the preceding two decades. In its hypnagogic symphony of the elements, he short-circuits distinctions of classical music’s metric freedoms and the hyperspatial sensuality of concrète/electro-acoustic and ambient musics with an artistic license that has come to distinguish his work in the contemporary field, and arguably identified him as this generation’s most vital electronic abstractionist.

The first half of the album is bewitchingly airless, materialised in a twinkling vacuum. Naturalistic environmental recordings and a half-heard piano swirl around nauseous airlock whooshes and eerie bass drones. It's all pulverised to a powdery, shimmering residue; if Actress's music is defined by its character and texture - that sweet spot between the bedroom and the soundsystem - then this one advances the narrative without losing its backbone. And like a lot of his best work, it comes into its own on the back of zonked eyelids, conjuring a play of shifting geometric patterns within its imaginary physics and nuanced narration of ephemeral melodic phrasing and vaporous textures.

At about the halfway point, that dissociated piano finds its groove, coalescing into a jerky drum machine rhythm popping like bubbles in the stifling atmosphere. We can draw some intersecting lines here thru electronic music lore - traces of vintage AE, Push Button Objects, UR - but Actress always leaves an indelible fingerprint on anything he touches. Even when he's rubbing against the gallery-industrial complex, he manages to fill a stagnant space with electricity and wit; look at the title itself: is it a reference to the "landscape beyond man" as the installation's press release might have us believe, or the institutions themselves?

Aunes is a rare solo album from peripatetic Australian cellist-composer-performer Judith Hamann, presenting six pieces recorded across several years and countries. Developing the collage techniques and expanded sound palettes heard on their previous releases, Aunes makes use of synthesizers, organ, voice and location recordings alongside the dazzlingly pure, enveloping tones of Hamann's cello. The record takes its name from an old French unit of measurement for fabric, varying around the country and from material to material. Unlike the platinum metre bar deposited in the National Archives after the Revolution as an immovable standard, an aune of silk differed from an aune of linen: the measure could not be separated from the material. In much the same way, in these six pieces_which Hamann thinks of as `songs'_formal aspects such as tuning, pacing, melodic shape and timbre are not abstractions applied universally to musical material but are inextricable from the instruments and sounds used, even from the places and communities in which the music was made. Audible location sound embeds the music in its place of making, as in the delicate duet for church organ and wordless singing `schloss, night', where shuffles and cluttering in the reverberant church space form a phantom accompaniment, gradually displaced by a uneasy shimmer of wavering tones from half-opened organ stops. `Casa Di Riposo, Gesu' Redentore' documents a walk up a hill to an outdoor mass in Chiusure, layering voices near and far with footsteps, insects and other incidental sounds. Like in the work of Moniek Darge or Luc Ferrari, location recordings are folded on themselves in space and time, their documentary function dislocated to dreamlike effect. On other pieces, it is the emphatic presence of the performing body that grounds the music, whether in the intimate fragility of Hamann's softly sung and hummed vocal tones or the clothing that rustles across a microphone on the opening `by the line'. The idea of a music inextricable from its material conditions is perhaps most strikingly communicated on the album's briefest piece `bruststärke (lung song)', composed from layered whistling recorded while Hamann suffered through an asthma flare up, the results halfway between field recordings of an imaginary aviary and the audiopoems of Henri Chopin. More than any of Hamann's previous solo works, a strong melodic sensibility runs through Aunes, even when, like on `seventeen fabrics of measure', the music hangs together by the merest thread. At other points, Hamann's love of pop music is more obvious: the rich synth harmonies of `by the line' could almost be a melting fragment of a backing track from Hounds of Love. The expansive closing piece `neither from nor toward' exemplifies the highly personal musical language that Hamann has developed in recent years through constant solo performance (and a rigorous discipline of instrumental practice), pairing two overdubbed voices with the boundless depth and harmonic richness of just-intoned cello notes, calling up Ockegham or Linda Caitlin Smith in its elegiac slow motion arcs. Hamann's most personal work yet, Aunes arrives in a striking sleeve reproducing a section of a painting made from sewn pieces of dyed wool by Wilder Alison, a friend and fellow resident at Akademie Schloss Solitude, one of the temporary homes where much of this music was recorded.

Its sound veers away from raw black metal intensity, opting for expansive, dreamy
atmospheres. Damian Anton Ojeda's signature approach tempers the harshness of
black metal's usual bleakness with a delicate sense of beauty and melancholy. The
album builds around shimmering guitars and lush soundscapes, creating a sense of
longing rather than the frostbitten aggression typically associated with the genre.
A key characteristic of "I Want to Be There" is how the screamed vocals--reminiscent
of depressive black metal--are mixed to blend seamlessly with the instrumental layers.
This intentional obscuring of vocals, pushed toward the back, transforms the vocals
into another textural element rather than a dominant force. This aesthetic decision
diffuses the emotional weight usually carried by extreme metal vocals, steering the
listener away from despair and toward introspection.
The balance between black metal's darker elements and post-rock's ethereal qualities
gives this record its emotional depth. The opening and closing tracks, "In the Distant
Travels" and the title track, lean more heavily on black metal structures but never fully
embrace the genre's typical harshness. Instead, the fuzzy guitars and crashing
cymbals are imbued with hope and uplifting energy. The post-rock influence becomes
more pronounced in tracks like "I Want to Be With You," which forgoes black metal
vocals entirely in favor of a choral atmosphere, evoking a serene and heavenly quality.
Ojeda also demonstrates his talent for creating immersive soundscapes, drawing
comparisons to *Sigur Ros*. Both artists employ sweeping melodies that evoke
feelings of transcendence. Still, where *Sigur Ros* tends to embrace more overtly
uplifting and sentimental tones, Sadness anchors these grand moments in
melancholy, avoiding overindulgence. The album is a delicate dance between light and
shadow, making the listening experience emotionally rich and layered.
While it may not have the raw emotional punch of *Deafheaven* or the nostalgic
charm of *Alcest*, *I Want to Be There* stands as a polished and thoughtfully
composed entry into the post-blackgaze genre. Ojeda's ability to fuse the weightless
hypnosis of black metal with the airy beauty of post- rock results in a sound that is
both familiar and new. Sadness offers a captivating and often beautiful exploration of
blackgaze, making the album a worthwhile listen for fans of atmospheric and
introspective metal.

This new record from Black Swan evokes a desolate post-collapse world that is detailed with haunting choirs, mangled tapes and distant industrial sounds. The album unfolds like a requiem by pulling beauty from the ruins of a collapsed society. With an hour-long narrative, it shifts between rippling hums and plaintive quivers of old cassettes, slowly revealing a heart that beats beneath the crimson haze. Tracks like 'Overture' and 'Back to Dust' offer cinematic grandeur and mournful exploration, while 'Pseudotruth' and 'New Gods' introduce eerie uncertainty. In the end, the album serves as a haunting meditation on loss, memory and the fragility of civilisation.

Repress as neon green vinyl!

Non Phixion drops a re-realse n of the group’s classic debut “The Future Is Now.” Available exclusively through Fat Beats. “Utilizing beats that would do Dr. Octagon-era Dan “The Automator” proud and rhyming schemes that bring to mind early Wu-Tang Clan or mid-’90s Gang Starr, Non Phixion exposes the sound of true underground hip-hop. This is music that reflects the sound and attitude of countless rappers selling their albums out of the back of their cars or in booths on the street, cutting together dirty and disjointed sounds with a confidence and quality that is unique to this particular genre. This would all be for nothing if it wasn’t for the excellent raps from Ill Bill, Goretex, and Sabac Red, a trio of rappers who have a Tribe Called Quest-like chemistry. Their clever lyrics, respectable skills, and rough voices make this an intense and dark landmark in alternative rap.”

The single release from Jimi Tenor's second thematic album on Timmion Records offers two very different moods. "Summer of Synesthesia" takes us back to those dreamy summer days, a natural overpour of sensations mixing together, sounds becoming colors before turning into flavors. Synthesizers grow into delicate layers over Cold Diamond & Mink's rhythm, and when your heart can hardly bear the beauty of it all, Tenor's soft lyric places the cherry on top. "Tsicroxe" on the flipside couldn't be more different, kicking into gear with a demonic organ arpeggio that sounds like you've just been dropped into a Dario Argento scene. Even though the familiar funk from Cold Diamond & Mink eases the dread a bit, when Tenor busts in with the eerie flute solo, the ritual closes in on its conclusion.

The contents of the backwards vocal bits at the end shall be saved for your turntable so make sure to rewind that track, selector! Also Available From Jimi Tenor & Cold Diamond & Mink: Is There Love In Outer Space? 7", Gaia Sunset 7", Is There Love In Outer Space? LP / CD. The single takes listeners on a sonic journey: “Summer of Synesthesia” flows with warm, dreamlike beauty, while “Tsicroxe” dives into intense, mysterious depths, showcasing Tenor’s dynamic range. Blending synth layers with Cold Diamond & Mink’s classic funk rhythms, both tracks bring elements of 70s soundtrack-style tension and ethereal soul, appealing to fans of both cosmic grooves and suspenseful soundscapes. Tenor’s layered synthesizers, haunting flute, and even backward vocal elements add a captivating texture, making “Summer of Synesthesia” b/w “Tsicroxe” a must-have for fans of genre-blending, atmospheric music.

Tobacco City is a Chicago-based band that blends cosmic country with a mix of psychedelic rock and honky-tonk soul. Their sound captures the essence of small-town nostalgia while embracing modern-day themes, exploring heartache, longing, and the bittersweet nature of life. With their uplifting energy and authentic songwriting, Tobacco City continues to carve out a unique space in the countrytinged Americana scene. On Horses, the highly anticipated follow-up to their critically acclaimed debut, Tobacco City, USA, the band takes listeners on a nostalgic journey through the haze of youth, where time feels suspended and plans are nonexistent. The album’s lyrics conjure vivid images of small-town life—smoking schwag behind the grocery store, drinking cream from a gas station with your first love—capturing that carefree, uncertain time when the future felt distant. The music channels the spirit of ’70s country with influences from legends like Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris, bringing a timeless, uplifting energy to each track. At the same time, the lyrics intersect with modern-day themes, blending the beauty and innocence of youth with the harsh realities of life. Horses feels like a contemporary take on classic country, merging a nostalgic past with the complex world of today, all while remaining undeniably authentic and heartfelt. This follow-up to Tobacco City, USA—which received high praise from NPR and Rolling Stone— cements the band’s place at the forefront of a new wave of countrytinged Americana. “...Like the Chicago band’s namesake, a slow smoke hangs in the air, heavy with heartbreak and feather-blue eyeshadow, but puts a brave face on. Lexi Goddard sings with a far-away look over a pedal-steel cry, a melody that sways to country songs on jukeboxes of yore...” —NPR “Chicago’s Tobacco City do more with less... spacious grooves as pedal steel wafts through like a gentle breeze. Vocalist Lexi Goddard and Chris Coleslaw sounds simultaneously wistful and playful throughout...” —Rolling Stone

Ajay Saggar is BHAJAN BHOY. "With BHAJAN BHOY, Saggar synthesizes all of the stylistic approaches he’s explored over the years, swirling them into an intoxicating musical blend, with an earthy spirituality. Even the project’s name reflects the dual aspects of Saggar’s upbringing coming together in harmony. In Hindi, a “bhajan” is a devotional song, sung in the mandir, or temple, while “bhoy” is a Scottish and Irish derivation for a young man. There’s a searching quality to Bhajan Bhoy, as if Saggar is still hunting for transcendence with each track, whether through an expansive drone, an orchestral facility on the piano, or an electronics-augmented raga that threatens to dip into noise” (Erick Bradshaw / writer and WFMU DJ). This album presents a rich and varied set of compositions that showcase Saggar’s skills as an incredibly talented and accomplished composer and musician. With each and every Bhajan Bhoy LP, you are are carried to a higher place. With ‘Bhoy On The Wire’, the 35 minutes laid out unfolds like a cosmic tapestry, an extraordinary exploration that shimmers and reverberates with newfound vibrancy. The songs were broadcast as part of a session on Steve Barker’s “On The Wire” radio show in April 2024. They were a gift to Steve and his team for 40 years of broadcasting. “On The Wire” is simply the greatest radio show in the world. As Ajay explains in his own words : “In September 1984, I started a degree course at the University of Lancaster. On a wet and soggy Sunday afternoon towards the end of September, I sat in my room staring out at the grey Lancashire landscape, and decided to alleviate the boredom by seeing if there was anything to listen to on the radio. Most of the stations I tuned into were as dull as the weather outside. However, as I neared the end of the FM dial (and was about to give up hope), I chanced upon a station where I was taken by the music being played. That show was “On The Wire”, introduced by Steve Barker. From there on in, every Sunday, between 2-5pm, I tuned into Radio Lancashire to listen. Steve’s shows had an incredible and wide reaching selection of music and genres, that thrilled your ears and left you wanting more. Tied to that, his deep knowledge of the material he played helped the listener dig into the sounds even more, and also left you in admiration of this trait. In 1985, I started putting on DIY shows in Lancaster (inviting the likes of Bog-Shed, bIG fLAME, The Membranes, The Wedding Present, etc etc) and Steve was kind enough to mention the shows on-air, which helped in getting people from different parts of the county to come to the shows. At the tail-end of 1985, he invited me to the studio to come and hang out. When in 1988, the group I was in, Dandelion Adventure, released our first (demo) cassette, it was Steve, who not only played tracks off it, but invited the group to the studio for an interview. Now if you’re a young band, that is a massive thrill! And in 1990, when Dandelion Adventure did a John Peel session, I actually used “On The Wire” jingles (that Steve had put on a cassette and given to me a few years before) on the track “All the World’s A Lounge”. Since then, the show has been a mainstay for me, and so many others around the world, to get turned onto incredible sounds from around the world. And over the course of 40 years, Steve has always supported my music. These six tracks are a 40th birthday gift to the “On The Wire” team (Steve, Michael “Fenny” Fenton (an absolutely critical part of the show), and Jim Ingham (engineer who keeps the technical side of things going)) for sharing so much amazing music, and making the world a better place. They were originally broadcast as an exclusive session in April 2024 on “On The Wire", and are here for your listening pleasure. Music like shower”. Artwork by Jake Blanchard