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DJ Support: Andy Votel, Nemone (BBC Radio 6), Andy Bell, The Quietus and more

The sweet hum from the vampire wood returns as Five Green Moons make another orbit. Ritual incantations and Dubwise vibrations are fused with angular guitars and skittering basement electronics to form a new entity. Moon 2.

Justin Robertson's second outing as Five Green Moons is a fusion of influences. The presence of occult mystery can be felt in the chants and vocal motifs, there lurks a manifestation of elastic post punk in the zigzag echo further enhanced by the appearance of Brix Smith, former high priestess of the Fall on two tracks. One could draw comparisons with P.I.L, Holy Tongue, the hauntological sound of Current 93, the trippy off kilter hypnotism of Brown Rice era Don Cherry, and of course the solid foundations of Dub. The bass is heavy, the sound spacious. This is a new form of pastoral dub!

Pressed on Limited Green Vinyl.

Three part journey into an imaginary Amazon from three artists working on the fringes of field recording.

Stories del Tibur​ó​n Llor​​​​​​​ó​​​​​​​n del Amazonas picks up where the previous, Stories of the Indian Dotted Whale trilogy left us. This time, the same three artists, Giovanni Lami, Hannibal Chew II aka Gonçalo F Cardoso and Bardo Todol aka Pablo Picco return to riff on an imaginary crying shark, known to swim in the amazon river. The sad and melancholic shark has never been seen but its weep and sob can be heard all over the region. Here are three works of sympathetic howls for a lonely and misunderstood creature.

First part from Giovanni Lami is made of ghost recordings made during 2020 in Iquitos, Perú, in the amazon forest during the film shoot of “Tras el Barco de Fitzcarraldo”. Second part from Hannibal Chew II is a collection of re-assembled recordings and jams gathered from a trip through the Amazon in late 2017 to early 2018. Later assembled during various improvised recording sessions during the long hot summer of 2023 in Tenerife, Canary Islands. The third and final part comes from Bardo Todol and features abrasive tape and digital field recordings manipulation made by Picco in Iquitos in 2020 during the shooting of “Tras el barco de Fitzcaraldo”.

All three feature sounds of: people talking, static radios, saturday night churches, river people, shawi people, dolphin people, shark people, market people, vibrating insects, zombie insects, giant insects, giant motors and of course various weeps of a crying shark.

Dutch artist Sander van der Toorn returns to Kit Records, following his much-loved work with analogue-decayed folk duo Love is Yes, in 2024. While Sander's signature haze of tape-smeared synthesis and motorik guitar is ever present, "kom-kom" represents a departure from the elysian warmth of Love's debut.

The industrial throb of tracks like 'FIVE' and 'Rainhum' bear the deconstructed hallmarks of krautrock pioneers Neu!, and even the dystopic glow of artists like Plastikman or Pole. When kom-kom's harmonic ambitions resurface, such as on the synapse-aching 'Dwarsdoor', or the glassy structures of 'Hazenhart', the effect is startling.

van der Toorn cites the inspiration of Morton Feldman and Sarah Davachi when describing his work less as a linear listening experience, more a collection of sculptures that can be viewed from different angles. In this way, kom-kom doesn't have to move forward; the encounter can be one of stillness, of static objects given movement by the beholder's shifting perspective.

Sounds like: John Fahey being stretched into infinitely long pieces of spaghetti.
Recommended if you like: intercontinental rail travel, Mark Fisher, a nice malbec.

Limited edition of 100 cassettes, with risograph printed artwork.

Ian Elms’s cult isolationist synth masterpiece Good Night returns via Dark Entries. Originally released in 1982, Good Night blends Berlin school minimalism and BBC Radiophonic weirdness with the aesthetics of then-nascent DIY punk electronics throughout its fifteen short tracks. According to Elms, these pieces were composed in two broad but interrelated modes: pieces with voice and synthesizer, which are obliquely narrative, and instrumental synthesizer pieces that aspire to capture fleeting emotions. Ian met with producer David Hoser at Octopus Studios and they began constructing pieces using a Polymoog Keyboard 280a, sampled drum tracks, and Elms’s synthesizer. On “The Street Enters the House”, live drums lurch along with skeletal motifs while Elms’s elliptical lyrics evoke domestic discontent. “A Light Moves Across Curtains” features metronomic pummeling and icy strings buttressing the scant cryptic lines from Elms. Instrumental gems like “Goodnight” and “Surrounded by Trees” are built around detuned riffs in round-like structure, both drifting and static like the motion of waves. With original pressings fetching three digits – if you can even find a copy – this reissue is essential listening for fans of John Bender, Transparent Illusion, and the early 80’s DIY cassette scene. Each copy of Good Night comes with a postcard featuring a photograph and notes by Elms. “This record is intended for anyone who by accident or design spends most of their time alone (whether in the body or in the mind).” – Ian Elms.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

Cindy Lee is the diva alter-ego of singer / guitarist / drag queen Patrick Flegel, the one-time captain of heralded Canadian experimental guitar pop act, Women. In Flegel's working on / as Cindy Lee exclusively over recent years, their songwriting makes a move toward high atmospherics, often achieving a mysterious sweetness rooted equally in beauty and ache.

As Cindy Lee's first long-form statement, Act Of Tenderness makes use of antipodal themes to create a living sound: static with grace, distortion and sugar, all masterfully arranged with crooked nods toward pop classicism. The layered vocal on "Power And Possession" creates a palpable haunt, bringing historical girl-group lament to choir-esque heights. The feedback shriek and industrial grind of "Bonsai Garden" provides near-operatic damage, yet never stumbles into the irrevocably grave. These snowy pieces give the album a decidedly cinematic feel, albeit one bent more towards Eraserhead.

Originally released in a scant private edition in 2015, Superior Viaduct's imprint W.25TH is pleased to give Act Of Tenderness its deserving wide release.

Earl Sweatshirt, acclaimed rapper, producer and one of hip-hop’s most uncompromising voices, has been a defining creative force for over a decade. His lyricism and singular vision have earned him critical acclaim, a devoted global following and a Grammy nomination for his contribution to Frank Ocean’s Channel Orange. Known for pushing boundaries and reshaping underground rap, Earl continues to evolve with each release.

He now returns with Live Laugh Love, his most expansive and conceptually ambitious project to date. Rooted in themes of wellness, growth and the philosophy behind its title, the album reflects Earl’s current way of life, choosing joy while staying grounded in truth. Across 11 tracks, he folds in irony, nostalgia and sharp observation, creating a body of work that embraces life’s contradictions: joy alongside darkness, levity alongside gravity.

So Fades the Light is an eerie horror thriller that makes for unsettling watching. That is no small part thanks to the equally haunting score from composers Blair French (an ambient and Balearic producer from the Detroit area) and Dave Graw (a fellow Motor City musician and visual artist), who forgo melody in place of atmosphere. It means their soundtrack is a living, breathing presence that's less about music a more of a sort of ghost that refuses to leave. Graw and French sculpt a world of distortion, static and whispered tones that feel dug out of crumbling ruins. It’s bleak, patient and unrelenting, always pulling you deeper into the lead character Sun’s fractured memories and the menace of her past. As a standalone release, it’s equally gripping: a record that blurs ambient, horror and noise into one oppressive atmosphere.

So Fades the Light is an eerie horror thriller that makes for unsettling watching. That is no small part thanks to the equally haunting score from composers Blair French (an ambient and Balearic producer from the Detroit area) and Dave Graw (a fellow Motor City musician and visual artist), who forgo melody in place of atmosphere. It means their soundtrack is a living, breathing presence that's less about music a more of a sort of ghost that refuses to leave. Graw and French sculpt a world of distortion, static and whispered tones that feel dug out of crumbling ruins. It’s bleak, patient and unrelenting, always pulling you deeper into the lead character Sun’s fractured memories and the menace of her past. As a standalone release, it’s equally gripping: a record that blurs ambient, horror and noise into one oppressive atmosphere.

Steve Hauschildt returns after 6 years with a new album titled Aeropsia. After a transcontinental relocation from the US to Tbilisi, Georgia, the electronic composer emerges from a personal and global transformation to explore themes of perceptual distortion, disconnection, and renewal.

Aeropsia (which roughly translates as “seeing the air”) refers to a visual phenomenon in which objects appear to float or shimmer, often due to changes in pressure, perception, atmospheric shifts or neurological disturbance. This becomes a metaphor for the liminality that informs the record: blurry visions, dreamlike displacements, and the fragile membrane separating what is seen from what is felt.

In the years since his last solo release, Hauschildt’s world has been marked by relocation and a growing sense of global turbulence. These experiences became the raw material for a work that navigates institutional haze and uncertainty itself. The result is music that employs decay as method, structure as entropy, and mutation as expression.

While Aeropsia remains subjective in its vision, Hauschildt invited two previous collaborators to expand the album’s gravitational pull. Cellist Lia Kohl, who previously performed on Nonlin, returns and brings a tactile warmth to select tracks, while guitarist Michael Vallera threads spectral harmonics into the mix. The album’s electronic foundation and its tactile elements meet in a state of luminous suspension to navigate the shifting in physical and psychological terrain.

Actress delivered his mix for RA in June and it wassuprisingly all new and exclusive Actress music. Whenasked if this was a new album, Actress aka Darren S.Cunningham simply answered that "it's a collage -Braque". Whatever you call this, a mix, a mixtape, acollage/braque, a new album , what it is, is anotherActress statement. Actress grows music. Completelyunconcerned with what it is, with what format it is orwhat it's defined as.

Animistic Resonance marks a new stage for artist and electronic musician Leslie García, as it is her first album under her own name, following several releases as Microhm and her parallel work as founder of the contemporary art studio Interspecifics, where she has developed an extensive body of sonic projects presented in major museums and programs around the world. The album is the culmination of a profound and extended exploration of sound as language. It is also a statement against the classicism of long-form ambient pieces. Narratively, each track is conceived as a finely detailed work that functions as a condensed temporal fragment, each with its own individuality while simultaneously forming part of a broader universe.

The compositional language of the album draws on minimalist structures, deep listening strategies, and experimental approaches to electronic sound. Each track offers a meditation on repetition, density, and micro-variation, unfolding like a sonic landscape shaped by temporal tension and perceptual ambiguity. Animistic Resonance resists categorization, situating itself between ambient, noise, and abstract rhythm, while grounding its aesthetic in a Latin American sensibility that embraces technological poetics, affective depth, and critical imagination.

The album invites listeners to move beyond the surface and inhabit a world of vibrational and animistic temporalities. It offers a refuge in sound, a suspended space where calm can emerge. In the midst of contemporary turbulence, Animistic Resonance opens the door to imagining new ways of listening and feeling, demanding an embodied and visceral form of engagement.

Composition sound synthesis and programming by Leslie García. Composed between 2022—2024 in Mexico City.
Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY. Artwork by Daniel Castrejón.

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…

[b] A2 Gathering Storm / Il Pleut À Mourir [+Clatters Like Worry]
[c] A3 "Welcome To Barco AM/PM..." [L.A.X.; 5/14/00]





[i] B5 [...+The Buildings They Are Sleeping Now]





[o] D3 [Glockenspiel Duet Recorded On A Campsite In Rhinebeck, N.Y.]
[p] D4 "Attention...Mon Ami...Fa-Lala-Lala-La-La..." [55-St.Laurent]


[s] D7 [Antennas To Heaven...]

Pickle Darling has always existed just outside of the periphery. In a heightened time of fast music, algorithmic consumption and rapid virality, Lukas Mayo (they/them) has remained focused on the album. Their discography is a reflection of their creative evolution, and they deliberately look for ways to push sonic boundaries from release to release. Since debuting with Bigness in 2019 followed by Cosmonaut in 2021, Mayo has curated a catalog that is deeply personal and strangely tactile, where tiny, unexpected details_an off-kilter loop, a whispered aside, the warmth of an old Casio_become as crucial as melody itself. Their 2023 LP Laundromat was a precise and polished expansion of that world, a record that felt like it had been carefully placed behind glass. Their forthcoming fourth album, Battlebots, by contrast, is unruly and full of static: a collection of songs that feel like they could only ever exist on scratched CD-Rs passed between friends. Self-recorded in their home studio in Christchurch, New Zealand, it finds Mayo taking a scalpel to their own songwriting. Songs were stretched, chopped, reversed. Some ideas started as "unlistenable garbage" before morphing into something unexpectedly beautiful. If a song felt too straightforward, Mayo had to mess it up. That friction of old and new, organic and digital, melody and noise is what drives Battlebots. Drawing inspiration from a strange, scattered lineage: Four Tet's Rounds, The Books, Neneh Cherry's Broken Politics, The Wrens' Three types of reading ambiguity, but also the emotional directness of 2000s pop like Madonna's Ray of Light and Robyn's Body Talk, the result is an album that feels like a glitch in the system, pushing against past constraints while embracing the weird, beautiful mess of making something new.

Lempuyang is a label you will know and respect for its high quality stream of immersive dub techno. Now the man behind it, Alastair Kelly, debuts a new label with none other than revered UK techno mainstay Ibrahim Alfa Jnr. He opens up with 'Component A' which is a moody melange of slow, broken dub beats and fizzing synths. There is further experimentation on 'Untitled B2 1' which pairs a churning dub rhythm with naive and innocent melodies and lots of li-fi static. 'Entangled' ups the ante with the suggestion of a fast paced rhythm through a skeletal groove and the flip brings broken beat dub weight, meaning and percussive bass with a 2-step swagger then deep introspection on the closer. A classy EP that suggests this label will be well worth watching.

Chickasha, Oklahoma is not a place known for producing a lot of original proto-punk bands. In fact, there is, to our knowledge, only one: Debris'. Formed in 1975 by bassist Chuck Ivey, guitarist Oliver "Rectomo" Powers and drummer Johnny Gregg, the trio created some of the most art-damaged outsider rock 'n' roll this side of MX-80 Sound.

When a local studio offered the package deal of ten hours for recording and mixing as well as pressing 1,000 LPs and two-color jackets, Debris' came in well-rehearsed – nailing all eleven of their songs in just one take. In April 1976, the same month as Ramones' debut album, Debris' would release their lone record onto the world.

Opener "One Way Spit" could easily be mistaken for a lost KBD single – from Chuck's bizarre count-in to the band's trashy start-stop rhythms, unfurling a Dadaist flag around Johnny's visceral vocals. On "Tricia," a reference to the then-current Patty Hearst trial, Oliver's gruesome groans are sardonically juxtaposed with an electric saw. These LSD-tinged tunes are a potent mix of Beefheart-ian controlled chaos and the genuinely weird avant-rock associated with the mid-'70s Cleveland scene.

Enhanced by analog synthesizers and electronic effects, the album sounds like Eno-era Roxy Music or Stooges' Fun House buried deep in the red Oklahoma dirt. While punk would spark a handful of bands who boldly straddled the line between the primal and the experimental, the relatively unsung Debris' were one of the first to do so.

Debris' had a standing invitation to play New York at Max's Kansas City and CBGB in 1976, although they never made it out of Oklahoma. The private-press edition of their self-titled album (also known as Static Disposal, which was actually the label name printed on the original front cover) has since become a collector's item and is even namechecked on the infamous NWW list.

Mutant is thrilled to partner with our friends at Neon and Filmtrax to release Edo Van Breemen’s score to Osgood Perkin’s latest horror hit The Monkey.

Based on the Stephen King short story produced by James Wan (The Conjuring, Saw), The Monkey is a new trip by Longlegs writer/director Osgood Perkins. When twin brothers find a mysterious wind-up monkey, a series of outrageous deaths tear their family apart. Twenty-five years later, the monkey begins a new killing spree, forcing the estranged brothers to confront the cursed toy.

The score is as playful as the movie itself, whimsical when it needs to be, but also managing to be terrifying and tense. We have pressed two versions of the score, one is a limited edition Lenticular edition strictly limited to 1000 copies pressed on multicolour Monkey splatter vinyl, and the other is an eco vinyl edition featuring a static sleeve. Both versions are housed in a printed outer O-Card. Composer Edo Van Breemen told us that when they were recording the score, "Mr. King’s Monkey haunted our process for the entire duration of post-production on this film while Mr. Perkins possessed us to mutilate sounds and arrangements in a manner beyond our control. We hope you enjoy this record, and if not... shit, man, that sucks.”

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

Kobe Dupree unveils debut album, ‘Voice from the Inside’, arriving 21st May 2025. It lands on fellow Chicagoan DJ Hyperactive’s 4Trk (4 Track Recordings), and features twelve tracks already supported by the likes of Dustin Zahn, Truncate, Korea Town Acid, Amanda Mussi & more, coming out on wax alongside the digital release.

Dupree’s cosmic ambient opener, 'Jacurutu', sinks you into deep, sub-aquatic techno hypnosis before 'Heretics' layers up alien sounds and rolling kick drums. 'Syk' brings edgy, unrelieved loops and muffled spoken words over more mind-melting rhythm. The supple sounds and otherworldly atmospheres continue on 'Forms', which is marbled with static electricity, with 'Interlude of Voice' marking a moment to reset amongst gorgeous celestial synth smears.

The second half of the album takes in the more punchy but still perfectly loopy deep techno of 'Memory Replacement' and psychedelic swirls of 'Tongue of the Unseen'. There is a mystical charm to the harmonic tones of 'Gammu', a moodier vibe pervades the suspensory 'Fogwood', then 'Semuta Music' traps you in tightly coiled drums and hi-hats while a backlit glow soothes the soul. 'One of Many Faces' closes with a heart-aching piano piece that gets deeply emotional.

Kobe Dupree is a techno artist from Chicago with a deep interest in sound design and minimalism. His musical experiments have been released on Trax Research, Double Vision Records and DJ Hyperactive’s 4 Trk, on which he released the ‘Stimulate | Iterate’ EP in 2024. He has a hybrid approach to production, which involves using a modular rig for sound design before moving to a DAW for arrangement and final touches, heard on the sophisticated and cerebral ‘Voice from the Inside’ album.

We all knew what was on the line before ever setting foot in the studio to record Gone For Good. “Grow or die” had become our mantra. We had endured a four year hiatus (2018 - 2022), reconciled our personal grievances, re-established the band to our original fanbase and beyond, and grew from a trio to a four-piece. It was clear to us that not only was change going to be a constant presence in our lives and careers, it was the fuel that kept the fire lit. To us, Gone For Good is a record from a band that finally arrived at who they wanted to become after 15 years of searching. In an ever evolving industry that seems to deliver countless new artists that are fully realized, perfectly sculpted, we cast a line of hope that there is still room for a band with a story of becoming.

The Last Revel's 5 previous studio albums give listeners a roadmap; hints and clues to who we are now. Gone For Good continues our story in the most powerful way. It's a challenging thing to do to be 15 years into a grassroots career of self-released music, self-promoted touring, and truly believe that we hadn’t written our best songs yet. That there was something deeper down in the well. Gone For Good is the manifestation of this belief and the songs reflect this with stories of sacrifice, courage, love, faith, and self-reflection. We called on Dave Simmonett of Trampled by Turtles to produce Gone For Good for two reasons: one being that Dave’s deeply personal and prolific songwriting career is a testament to the fact that a good song can move mountains.

Two being that we knew having someone involved that we admired so dearly would bring out the best in us. No one wanted to show up to the studio and show Dave a song they didn’t truly believe in. Working with Dave at Pachyderm Studios in Cannon Falls, Minnesota over the course of 4 days was a powerful experience. Dave encouraged us to record everything live, together, in one room. The result being a sound we were searching for throughout our entire careers. It's just us; no studio magic to hide who we are. As a band we are the most proud of this record because we earned it. The countless hours working on our craft, the years touring, the work it takes to go on, it all shows up on Gone For Good. Whatever happens next belongs to us.

Seven years after their last release (Helltown, 2018), Electric Citizen returns with their fourth album, EC4-a powerful statement of renewal and raw energy. Written by Ross Dolan with contributions from the full band, the album was meticulously crafted over several years and recorded with Mike Montgomery and John Hoffman at Candyland Studio in Dayton, KY. The album was mixed by Collin Dupuis (Lana Del Rey, The Black Keys) in Detroit and mastered by JJ Golden at Golden Mastering in California. The album art was created by Neil Krug (Lana Del Rey, Tame Impala, Weyes Blood), who the band worked with for their first album, Sateen. Now signed to Heavy Psych Sounds, the band is ready to unleash their most potent work yet-a fusion of hypnotic grooves, searing guitars, and Laura Dolan's mesmerizing vocals. EC4 is both a homecoming and a rebirth. Electric Citizen is back!

Solid red vinyl, limited to 350 copies. Seven years after their last release (Helltown, 2018), Electric Citizen returns with their fourth album, EC4-a powerful statement of renewal and raw energy. Written by Ross Dolan with contributions from the full band, the album was meticulously crafted over several years and recorded with Mike Montgomery and John Hoffman at Candyland Studio in Dayton, KY. The album was mixed by Collin Dupuis (Lana Del Rey, The Black Keys) in Detroit and mastered by JJ Golden at Golden Mastering in California. The album art was created by Neil Krug (Lana Del Rey, Tame Impala, Weyes Blood), who the band worked with for their first album, Sateen. Now signed to Heavy Psych Sounds, the band is ready to unleash their most potent work yet-a fusion of hypnotic grooves, searing guitars, and Laura Dolan's mesmerizing vocals. EC4 is both a homecoming and a rebirth. Electric Citizen is back!

From a 4x5m room stacked with vinyl, ashtrays, magazine drafts, and semifunctional synths, Stompin n Risin rises again—reincarnated but not revised.
Originally a spontaneous ritual from the days of blunted dreaming and one-eyeopen ambition, this track first snuck into the world under a different name (Jacobite Fool, courtesy of those tasteful Belgians at International Feel) and went on to become a cult curio. Now, it’s back—rebuilt with the very same machines that once hummed beside the mattress, but still left to run wild like they used to.
The rest of the EP stays close to that spirit: music as lived experience, jammed with friends, lovers, and ex-boyfriends (literally). Lucy’s Electricity is a shimmering daydream, born from a jam with Daniele Labbate, recharged by a whirlwind wedding, and soundtracked by a bittersweet guitar line courtesy of the groom’s bride’s ex. A track for walking into churches—or out of time entirely. A personal favorite of the artist, and maybe the only funeral anthem with this much static joy.
One takes things inward—made with the Moog One for open-air yoga sessions during the era of no-dancing-but-still-dreaming. It’s a sun-dappled, slow-motion dancefloor where breath and bass align. Love 2 Love closes the circle: an unearthed jam with long-time collaborator and platonic supermodel Hanne Uekermann, revived from hard drive purgatory and infused with new life. A love song to the music, the moments, and the friendship behind it.
This record isn’t just a collection of tracks. It’s a lived-in photo album, a soft pulse through oceanic memory, a reminder that all sound comes from life, and maybe all life comes from sound.

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce Spilla, the second album from Nantes-based Ensemble Nist-Nah, 48 minutes of music for Gamelan, drum kits, wood and metal percussion instruments, and plucked strings that will surely count as one of the most electrifying records you hear this year. Founded by the Australian drummer/percussionist Will Guthrie in 2019, continuing the explorations begun in solo form on Nist-Nah (Black Truffle, 2020), the ensemble (eight or nine core members with occasional guests) has been consistently active in the half-decade since: composing, rehearsing, recording and touring Europe (with a mass of equipment in tow) to great acclaim. Spilla tracks the continuing evolution of the project since the recording of their first album, Elders (Black Truffle, 2022). The two sides of this record document two different iterations of the group, and the members' compositional input has increased: each side contains one piece by a member other than Guthrie. It has become clearer than ever that Ensemble Nist-Nah is not an attempt at a European Gamelan ensemble but rather a hybrid percussion ensemble that uses instruments from a Javanese Gamelan alongside other percussion to perform original music informed by a variety of South East Asian music but also by everything from free jazz to contemporary hip-hop: while Nist-Nah and Elders both featured traditional Javanese pieces, on Spilla the only tune not generated by a member of the group is by Guthrie’s long-time musical hero and occasional collaborator Roscoe Mitchell.

The two short pieces that open the record could almost be the two sides of a wild 7” selected to show off what the Ensemble can do. On opener ‘Gerak Maju’, intricately skittering open-snare patterns bounce over clanging metal, chiming bell-like tones and deep gong hits, adapting the rhythm-register connections heard in traditional Gamelan musics—where the lowest pitched sounds are heard least frequently—to a cut-up breakbeat straight off Feed Me Weird Things. ‘Strollabout’ then moves into an entirely different realm of meditative repeating patterns, performed entirely on Chinese, Javanese and Vietnamese gongs. The remaining seven pieces, ranging from three to twelve minutes, offer up a wealth of different percussive, compositional and arrangement possibilities. On ‘Ghostly Klang’, two drumkits mirror each other’s moves, bouncing hats and snares across the stereo field in a way that recalls On the Corner and the jittering hi hat patterns of trap, while slow moving melodies on the tuned instruments add a sense of majesty contrasted by scurrying details in resonant wood. The epic closing track presents a take on Roscoe Mitchell’s ‘Uncle’, performed by the Art Ensemble of Chicago on their classic Urban Bushmen live album. Where the Art Ensemble used Mitchell’s dirge-like melody as a jumping off point for virtuosic improvisational flights, Ensemble Nist-Nah rethink the piece as a near-static dialogue between the monumental, slow-moving sequence of unison tuned percussion notes and a textural cloud that grows in richness and intensity from whispering cymbal rolls into a mass of gong overtones and bowed metal.

Beautifully recorded and mixed, Spilla arrives in a sleeve decorated with core member Charles Dubois’ drawings of cymbals and gongs. Against the backdrop of a wider musical landscape dominated by over-produced electronic slop and bland harmonic wallpaper, Ensemble Nist-Nah stands out as a reminder, vital and unpretentious, of the joys and possibilities of human beings playing instruments together.

Re-Release auf transparent gelbem Vinyl

In Marking A Boundary With The Turning Point, Ard Bit and Radboud Mens explore the tension between stasis and movement. Operating within the realm of drone and electroacoustic music, they construct a sonic landscape where sustained tones and microscopic events constantly shape and reshape each other. What initially appears static reveals itself to be rich with detail: tiny acoustic shifts breathe life into apparent stillness, inviting focused and attentive listening. The album emerged from a process where sound research, improvisation, and sound design merge. Self-built instruments, the search for timbre and texture, and recordings of the learning process itself form the foundation of these compositions. Rather than following a traditional musical structure, the result is a sonic field in which the minimal continually transforms, depending on the listener's perspective. Ard Bit (Ard Janssen) is a composer, sound artist, and field recordist based in Rotterdam, trained at the Institute of Sonology in The Hague. His work moves between improvisation and system-based composition, exploring the space between ambient, drone, and sound art. Radboud Mens is a sound artist with a decades-long practice grounded in minimalism, acoustic subtlety, and physical resonance. His work focuses on the perception of sound, the materiality of audio, and the creation of spatial listening experiences. Together, they present a layered and handcrafted album that doesn't narrate but questions. Marking A Boundary With The Turning Point is not a boundary, it's an invitation to listen beyond expectation.

o encapsulate the themes. “Aseurai means around you in the atmosphere, hard to reach, fading away,” Choi says. “It’s a poetic expression. You wouldn’t say it in normal conversation, but I like that.”

Following the four-piece band’s 2024 self-titled EP, Aseurai adds disco and city-pop influences while staying true to dream-pop roots. While Phoebe Rings was originally a solo project of Choi’s, Aseurai marks a shift with contributing songwriting credits from the whole band. The four musicians cut their teeth working on other notable NZ projects such as Princess Chelsea, Fazerdaze, Tiny Ruins, AC Freazy,, Sea Views and Lucky Boy.

With a more ambitious collection of instruments, Choi says this album heralds the start of true collaboration: “I feel more precious about this LP because it includes everyone’s gems.” Guitar/synthesist Simeon Kavanagh-Vincent spearheads unexpected arrangements, with bold fuzzy guitar textures, to spice up the mix. Benjamin Locke adds maturity to the lyrics, paired with perfectionist bass lines. And drummer Alex Freer’s slick production soars Aseurai to diverse and synergetic heights. The broth is richer with more cooks in the kitchen, and the brewing of textures creates a distinct ‘Phoebe Rings’ sound.

If the EP was spacey, then Aseurai settles on earth, rooted in tangible moments. “Without getting too gloomy, it’s a weird world out there. A lot has changed in the world since the EP came out,” says Kavanagh-Vincent on this transformation. The album delves into hope and longing across all possibilities, and this exploration of holding on and letting go is organically threaded throughout. Across ten songs, Phoebe Ring’s storytelling ranges from tongue-in-cheek musings on gentrification to tender autobiographical memories.

아스라이 흩어지는 하늘의 별이 (May the falling light of faraway stars) / 그대의 손 끝에 닿아 숨이 돼주길 (Reach your fingertips and let you breathe),” Choi sings in the title track “Aseurai.” Imagined as a breezy track inspired by a 90’s Korean pop band, Choi discovered, when fleshing out the lyrics, that it was about yearning for people she couldn’t see anymore. In the old-school disco track, “Get Up,” Locke addresses struggles with mental health in a Matrix-inspired driven mantra:  ‘Just get up / Just get up.’ The groove persists with ‘Fading Star,” a quirky ballad filled with steely jazz/rock guitar solos dedicated to a suburban aging musician. Kavanagh-Vincent’s lead single ‘Drifting’ is an unrequited celestial love song with bouncing bass and playful synths.

The band wrote, produced, and engineered the album across studios and band members’ homes in 2023/2024 in Tāmaki Makaurau (Auckland). It features mixing/mix production by local legend Jeremy Toy (Bic Runga, Aaradnha, Princess Chelsea) and mastering by Kelly Hibbert. With Aseurai, Phoebe Rings mark out a brilliant new constellation in their sky, bringing their individual compositions to the fore whilst seamlessly threading them into one celestial body - launching skyward on Carpark Records in June 2025.

Limited edition of 100 items, hand-stamped and individually numbered with photographic insert.

After the feature of steifl on mental concept 161616, now comes a full length edit by the dude from the Netherlands. Acid, breaks and wonky textures for the heads. Includes a download code for bandcamp!

You might think that Yassin Omidi is a newcomer, but in fact it is the new-coming of an already accomplished and respected head who now delves deep into the world of dub techno on Steve O'Sullivan's Mosaic. The beatless 'Sluder Dub' is coated in heavy fog and static with conscious vocal musings and the roomiest of chords landing with great drama and tons of echo. On the flip is another analogue sound that features buffed metal dub chords, classic effects and a shapeshifting ambient hiss. It's dramatic despite being such a minimal piece.

Remedy Entertainment und Laced Records präsentieren die wegweisende, unvergessliche Musik des preisgekrönten Videospiels 'Alan Wake 2' auf Vinyl.

Remedy und sein Creative Director Sam Lake sind wohl unübertroffen in ihrem Engagement für die Musik in ihren Spielen. Für den Soundtrack verfolgten sie vier kreative Hauptstränge: Der langjährige Mitarbeiter Petri Alanko (Alan Wake, Quantum Break, Control) kehrte als leitender Komponist zurück und lieferte einen bissigen und doch gefühlvollen dramatischen Horror-Score sowie die bei den Fans beliebte Hausmeister-Ballade „Yötön Yö“, gesungen von Martti Suosalo (Ahti).

Der Musikkünstler POE und Sam Lake haben sich zusammengetan, um vier Teile des spiralförmigen, melancholischen Epos „This Road“ zu schaffen, das das Ende von Wakes Reise durch den Dark Place darstellt.

Die Poets of the Fall schlüpften erneut in die Rolle der alten Götter von Asgard und schufen mehrere Prog-Opera, darunter das monumentale „Herald of Darkness“ mit dem Gesang von Matthew Porretta (Alan Wake) und David Harewood (Mr. Door).

Schließlich versammelte die Musikproduktionsfirma Fried Music in Zusammenarbeit mit Nordic Music Partners eine kleine Armee außergewöhnlicher Songwriter-Talente, um die vielseitigen, atmosphärischen und im Universum angesiedelten „Chapter Songs“ zu komponieren.

Indifferent Engine is a post-hardcore punk band from Cambridge, UK, known for their genre-defying sound and visceral live performances. Drawing inspiration from early hardcore, art punk, post-rock, ambient music, pulp science fiction and obsolete electronics, the band creates a soundscape that is as eclectic as it is intense. Originally conceived as a solo project by frontman Adam Paul, Indifferent Engine evolved into a full band in 2019, bringing their unique blend of chaotic energy and experimental sound to stages across the UK. Their performances are a sensory experience, often featuring the largest rig of vintage CRT TVs in the UK live scene, bathing the stage in the soft, eerie glow of static. This visual backdrop, combined with Adam's commanding stage presence -- fluctuating between Mark E. Smith-esque monologues and raw, visceral screams -- creates an emotional atmosphere that is equal parts unsettling and captivating.

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. "We were trying to find our own space," says Cinder of the formative period Camouflage Heart emerged from, amidst a move from Edinburgh to London and Cinder's evolving exploration of gender identity, well before culture at large was equipped to understand. With contemporary discourse we see that the project manifested her transgender ideas as visceral music. The guttural, feral sound marked a notably darker turn from The Freeze's sixyear run on the fringes of punk. Changing the project's name became vital, not just because they kept hearing the former was already taken, but the desire to embody the spiritual and sonic shift, "to uncover new pathways_to feminize it," she says. Cinder, with bandmates David Clancy and John Byrne, arrived at Cindytalk, a winking nod to Sindy, the British fashion doll rival to Barbie known then for its pull-string talking mechanism. "The goal was to have a more interesting narrative, more interesting dialogue. Music was ultimately my only way of talking to people. That was my conversation with the world, an abstracted conversation_an attempt to make some kind of tiny, tiny mark, if possible, you hope somebody will notice." Over the years, Cinder has heard from fans who did pick up on the signals and find refuge in Camouflage Heart. Camouflage Heart plays with tension and pace, from creeping to feverish to claustrophobic. The percussion moves between restless marches and barely-there pulses; for some parts, they scratched and hit a tin bath, among other objects. Guitar lines vibrate and stab as Cinder contorts her voice freely. She pulls poetry from a cerebral abyss, like "make the snake in your eye, pierce the camouflage heart" on the slow-droning centerpiece "The Spirit Behind the Circus Dream." In that register is raw power, both vulnerable and menacing, an ability to locate something deep and emotionally charged within. "I still remember that person who was way too intense for their own good," Cinder reflects. "I couldn't make a record like that now, certainly not vocally, while that anger hasn't dissipated; there's still a kind of warrior." For all the destruction and disintegration of Camouflage Heart, Cinder maintains the objective was never full-on fatalistic; these songs seek not to destroy but to poke and provoke, to transform and heal, to find cracks of light in a crumbling world. She points to the last lines of the opening track, "It's Luxury": "Don't look down," the lyric pines through static and rhythm. Cinder extrapolates, "I'm essentially saying, just keep fucking going. As time went on, for me, that falling became flying. Camouflage Heart is the beginning of believing in flight."

SLEEP THEORY"S meteoric rise since bursting onto the scene in 2023 has been nothing short of extraordinary. Their breakout single "Numb" smashed into the Top 10 on Active Rock Radio, introducing a sound that feels as polished as it is powerful-something most bands take years to master. Following that initial strike, tracks like "Fallout" and "Stuck in My Head" cemented their place as chart-topping heavyweights. But SLEEP THEORY isn"t just a studio phenomenon-they"ve cut their teeth on the road, delivering blistering performances alongside heavy hitters like Beartooth, Daughtry, and Falling in Reverse. From dominating festival stages at Welcome to Rockville and Sonic Temple to the electrifying chaos of Louder Than Life, their relentless touring schedule has forged a reputation for anthemic live shows that demand your attention. Now, 2025 is shaping up to be SLEEP THEORY"S defining year. Their highly anticipated debut album, Afterglow, drops May 16th, and it promises to be a revelation. Packed with razor-sharp songwriting, impeccable musicianship, and vocals that will leave you breathless, this is the record fans have been waiting for. With over 230 million streams and listeners devouring their music at a staggering 5 million streams weekly, Sleep Theory is on the verge of transcending rock"s boundaries to become one of the genre"s defining voices. Brace yourselves: Afterglow is more than just an album-it"s a statement of intent from a band destined to shake the foundations of modern rock.

Just as Duster's landmark debut album Stratosphere was making its first orbit, Clay Parton, Dove Amber, and Jason Albertini tracked a largely improvised companion capsule under their Valium Aggelein alter ego. An ode to '70s Kosmische, Hier Kommt Der Schwartze Mond is a skeletal space nap for the prozac generation. Remixed and remastered from the original 16 track analog tapes, the 1998 album has been adjoined by 15 period-appropriate bonus tracks. A fuzzy masterpiece, hidden in plain sight, by the most important slowcore band of all time.

CINEMATIC VOYAGE THROUGH COSMIC RITUAL AND ETERNAL SOUND - a work that exists outside time—equally at home in the temples of antiquity and the neon-lit voids of speculative futures, merging ceremonial percussion, interstellar synthwaves, and wordless incantations into a 31-minute ritual for the infinite. Born from a three-year metamorphosis between studio and stage and rooted in a Takhmira (a Zar ritual poem), Ninety Nine Eyes channels the archetypal quest—a search for the “land where light is seated.” Its soundscapes evoke the grandeur of forgotten civilizations and the hum of celestial machinery: droning mizmar lines and drowning tombak and duff rhythms dissolve into maximalist synth storms; choirs of phantom voices rise like starlight through the static of ages. - Sound: Structured like a Sufi Hadra, the LP’s undulating peaks pull at old ways of communing with the divine - Part I builds tension, a breath before the storm, while Part II erupts into unfettered synth-drenched trance, gates flung open - only the listener can close the circle through their own interpretation.- For fans of Vangelis’ Blade Runner, Jon Hassell’s Fourth World, Alice Coltrane’s spiritual jazz, Autechre’s glitch rituals, and Pauline Oliveros’ deep listening.- Production: Mixed by VII, mastered by Heba Kadry (Björk, Ryuichi Sakamoto).- Artwork: Features a portrait of Yunis by Cairo underground photographer Kafrawy and hand-sewn costume design by Alaa Eideh, with graphic design by Giovanni Murolo (Countersubject). EU Tour spring 25

The Oh Sees wasted no time in racing headlong into nightmarish battle with the mighty Orc, clawing even farther up the ghastly peak stormed so satisfyingly by their previous A Weird Exits. The band is in tour-greased, anvil-on-a-balance beam, gut-pleasingly heavy form, nimbly braining—with equal dashes of abandon and menace—on this fresh batch of bruisers and brooders, hypnotically stirred into to the cauldron of chaos you’ve come to expect. On Orc, fresh blood Paul Quattrone joins Dan Rincon to form a phalanx of interlocking double drums, alternately propelling and fleet-footing shifting ground to pinion John Dwyer’s cliff-face guitars to the boogie. Tim Hellman keeps it swinging like a battle-axe to the eyebrows. The tunes veer toward the violence of their live shows, with a few tasty swerves into other lanes: heavy to lush, groovy to stately. Throughout, it remains sinister in its swaggering skulk, manic in its fuzz-fried fugues. They hit all the sweet spots the heads foggily remember, and there’s plenty to sweat over if you just hopped into the sauna. More evil…more complex…more narcotic…more screech… more blare…more whisper…there’s even more Brigid. Less “Thee,” but more of everything else.