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“My introduction to “noise” came from a record shop in Lake Worth, Florida ran by a musician named Kenny 5. Kenny had left Detroit sometime in the mid nineties and had begun selling used records and CD’s from the downtown strip of this tiny southern Florida city in a humble shop sandwiched between a deli and a dog grooming business. Kenny previously was on labels like Amphetamine Reptile and timeSTEREO, and the records and videotapes that would be on repeat at his shop were a vast sonic expanse that spoke to the eclecticism of his experience as a touring musician participating and adjacent to American noise culture through the early to late 90’s. In 1998, I was eleven years old and I would order a pizza with him and watch VHS tapes of Japanese noise and deathmatch bootlegs, as well as any other sonic and subcultural rarities that far outstripped my age to comprehend (notably the RRR “Journey Into Pain” compilation and various Vanilla Tapes videos). This widecast net of information formed an introduction to a reality that did not fall deaf on me, but it took many years later for me to reorient the specific freedoms of what this dense and cathartic sound culture had imparted on my life and would continue onward to.

What does this have to do with this selection of choice recordings from the Secret Boyfriend catalog for the enmossed label? For the uninitiated, Secret Boyfriend is the long running moniker of Ryan Martin, North Carolina musician and label proprietor of the Hot Releases imprint. For over a decade from this writing I have watched Secret Boyfriend, and Hot Releases by extension as a curatorial and archival effort, embodying the multiplanal capacity that noise loosely functions from as an umbrella ideology and formalist avenue for sound creation. For anecdotal purposes, from (before) 2006 until roughly 2023 the East Coast of the United States showcased a vibrant network of eclectic regional festivals that saw wide swaths of artists addressing and negotiating the notion of what qualified “noise” from a conceptual and ideological perspective. Some festivals honed in on particularities in aesthetics and tropes, and others had a kind of “catch-all” implementation that allowed for a salvation of the sort of alienated and singular artistry that was amassing throughout these territories. While clear guidelines had been set from regional predecessors as to how noise with a capital “N” should maneuver, Secret Boyfriend is emblematic in the spirit of fluidity that was either implicitly coupled to the notion of the genre, or grew to evolve towards or devolve from.

Within Secret Boyfriend performances, I have seen and admired a mirroring from a ravenous appreciator of this culture at large back towards itself. Typical of a Secret Boyfriend set is an interchangeable narrative arc wherein blistering feedback laden scrap metal improvisations are forayed into naive ambient or “pop” songs, or skipping CDs, or mixer feedback play, or delayed Roland 707 drum workouts all at once and in a unique hegemony. Secret Boyfriend's stylistic mastery of each endeavor is at once an homage to a history of loving listening and enacting, while a brave step into the realm of actualizing the unique fluidity of his own practice. In performance and the action of network engagement, Secret Boyfriend operates a survey of that which he sought to hear and that which he cultivates around his work. His operations are mirrors, and the project (alongside his other peers) is a reflection on the ethos of his time.

Conversely his recording practice narrows in on these moments and allows for a different kind of intimacy or alienation for the non live listener. This record of selected “pop songs” (let's call them that) is particularly poignant at a time when the culture Martin mirrors is at a strange crossroads with itself. The aforementioned festival networks necessarily change and shift. The onlookers become the artists, the artists find new horizons, and the spaces for these cycles fade into locales of a distant memory. It seems, from my perspective, that audiences currently yearn for a more bottlenecked experience, searching for some ontologically vetted manifestation of an idea, of a sound and less for an experience that functions in opposition to our collective banalities. This makes sense in the face of general global catastrophism that plagues us. We need certainty of what something is somewhere, don’t we? Noise as an idea has expanded and contracted to so many iterations of itself it is hard to tell what it even is, and it is particularly difficult to identify in the absence of solid network activations a moment to reflect on its own complexities and nuances. In the face of so much change, I argue that the language of noise culture at large has on one hand become increasingly didactic and predictable, and laughably inclusive and non linear on the other. Probably has always been this way, but now we are in the midst of a moment of extreme access and indexicality, which somehow cauterizes expansion and naivety and chance.

This record highlights the Secret Boyfriend that obscures didacticism by highlighting output that opens up for more challenging catharsis and emotive signal processing. It provides an entry to the materialism of a cultural field full of ecstatic complexity and beautiful inconsistency. In these muted moments Secret Boyfriend has given us over his career we have an argument for evolving languages that further challenge our notions of what is supposed to happen and how it is supposed to be presented. In his more song oriented expansiveness, we can punctuate the ability to think in new modalities. Listening to these recordings reminds me of the polarity of sitting in the record store as a kid and understanding that His Name Is Alive is on 4AD and (gasp!) timeSTEREO. This trite early impression that nothing is really as different as our imaginations might want them to be, and that we can do whatever we want mostly within the creative realms we work through is an important filter to look through Secret Boyfriend as a project and a vessel. If we can achieve abandon and vulnerability through our artistic endeavors, then we have a sound model for, maybe, new potentialities. If that’s too much projection, or just complete liberal bullshit, I am fine with that. Secret Boyfriend's oeuvre at best offers us moments of reprieve to ponder these complexities, or at least a moment to zone out on a drive through North Carolina Highway 54.

You have one pocket of life that you must do whatever you want to inside of. Secret Boyfriend does it affectionately, in a variety of forms, and always with deep sentimentality. These recordings are a wonderful set of songs to begin further investigation from. Thank you Ryan for allowing as many avenues as possible to continue a broad cultural exchange and conversation that intersect and refract while being the kind of artist that is brave enough to not phone in the effort.”

- Nick Klein , May 2024

Building on the promise of his standout Vacuum EP, Brendon Moeller returns to Samurai Music to dial his expert dub techno up to 170 for a full-length trip. Moeller is celebrated as a versatile operator applying cavernous sound design and decades-deep machine soul to a broad sweep of tempos and styles, and his pivot to D&B territory is as natural as it is original. It's a perfect fit on Samurai, where palettes, pressure and rhythms are continually yielding fresh results in this highly fertile zone of modern club music.

It's no secret Moeller is a prolific producer, and following his initial connection with Samurai he offered up a vast folder of tracks created in this latest furrow of his production. The label has since sifted through and puzzled out a sonic narrative, first realised on the Vacuum EP in June 2024 and now extended with Further. For anyone keyed into the deep, techno-informed innovations taking place at 170, there is a logical connection to Moeller's take on the sound, but at the same time these tracks stand apart from anything else out there right now. In the particular textures, the unfolding arrangements and monolithic reverbs Moeller threads together with hypnotic poise, his accomplished legacy shines through.

Whether it's the snarl of a delay feedback pushed a little further, a soaring synth swell sculpted into artful noise or a particular shuffle applied to a particular drum rack, Moeller's tracks unfold with a masterful poise, hitting the sweet spot between club-spirited physicality for the deepest of dance floors and introspective headphone trips. Teeming with detail, swathed in soul and engineered to perfection, the inspiration driving Moeller is palpable across the LP, and it's resulted in some of his finest work in a career studded with highlights.

The Confidence of Knowing by Talib Kweli and J Rawls offers a quintessential hip-hop experience that honors the genre’s classic roots. This album marks the duo’s first collaboration since Rawls produced “Brown Skin Lady” on the influential Mos Def and Talib Kweli are Blackstar album, a hip-hop landmark from 25 years ago.

With this release, Kweli and Rawls showcase their artistic growth and maturity, blending masterful lyrics with authentic boom-bap beats to take listeners on a journey through hip-hop’s soul. Tracks like the introspective “Breath, Eyes, Memory,” the nostalgic “Turnstyle,” and the homage to the Native Tongues in “Native Sons” exemplify their dedication to preserving hip-hop’s essence.

Featuring an impressive lineup of guests—including Jimetta Rose, Blu, DJ Rhettmatic, TriState, Coast Contra, Buckshot, Skyzoo, Planet Asia, Phil Da Agony, IDK, Middle Child, Georgia Anne Muldrow, Diani, Solene, and NIKO IS—the album celebrates the depth and diversity of hip-hop culture.

Steven Wilson is no stranger to composing music that appears to counter everything else before it in his catalogue. Bass Communion, his long running solo electronic project, is no exception to this perverse streak that apparently likes to turn all expectations upside down. The Itself of Itself, Bass Communion's first album for 12 years, skilfully pays testament to this. Long established as a purveyor of mostly atmospheric or ambient textures, the seven cuts that represent The Itself of Itself take detours from this approach in order draw as much from musique concrete, noise music, abstract electronics and uneasy listening. Whilst still rippled with the same shades of light and dark that can be found throughout all of Bass Communion's work, The Itself of Itself reveals a fascination with analogue sounds and, more importantly perhaps, 'unwanted' analogue artefacts like tape hiss, wow and flutter, static noise, and sonic break-up, taking the music into a space at once different yet familiar. 'Apparition 3' presents a stark nod to Wilson's established command of shifting textures steeped in penumbral gauze, while 'Bruise' is akin to a space probe adrift and headed towards a white dwarf as all communication is reduced to a disturbing and indecipherable crackle. Between the other five cuts we witness fragmented, garbled and buried voices, vast vacillating banks of grainy hum, what sounds like the dying gasps of an oboe, spooky swirls from an indiscernible source, swathes of tape hiss, moody drones, and spiralling slivers of noise. Meanwhile on the title track, a mellotron flute rusts and collapses in on itself in a way that renders it the very antithesis of the one deployed on 'Strawberry Fields Forever'. Everything adds up to a dynamic listening experience where unease, dread and comparatively claustrophobic torrents of sound make (un)natural bedfellows to moments of enchantment and serenity. Above all, The Itself of Itself sees Steven Wilson cutting his teeth on an album that's at once cinematic and moody whilst proving him to be a master in electronic music craftsmanship. It's an album that might surprise some of those who have thus far been paying attention to his work as Bass Communion, but setting out to please everyone was never part of his raison d'etre. The Itself of Itself catches Bass Communion spreading its weatherbeaten wings to embrace new strategies and a strong desire to journey elsewhere. Arriving in a wonderful Carl Glover designed deluxe cover also comprising a 24pp. booklet of his photographs and an obi strip, this version of The Itself of Itself arrives in December on Lumberton Trading Company as a 2LP pressed in an initial run of 1000 copies.

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

The last couple of years have seen a renaissance for West Coast singer-songwriters. LA-based youngsters such as Drugdealer and Sylvie have attracted considerable attention releasing warm and mellow records tonally reminiscent of the early 70s. Most fans of this new/old sound are unaware of Bart Davenport's early explorations in the same sonic territory. His now 20-year-old "Game Preserve"album should gain an appreciative new audience with its first ever vinyl release.

In the year 2000, Bay Area troubadour Bart Davenport and several other musicians were recruited by a major tech corporation in Seattle to work on an algorithm-based music matching/search engine. It was what looked like the beginning of a promising career. After a year, however, the project was shelved. Bart and his colleagues were laid off with a healthy severance package... on the 12th of September, 2001. Not only had the musician's life changed, so had the world. Rather than blow the money on a holiday or new car, Bart knew he had to make a record. A proper album that meant something.

Back in Oakland, he entered Wally Sound Studios with former Kinetics bandmate Jon Erickson at the controls, and a swathe of talented local musicians. "With Game Preserve," Bart explains, "Jon and I really wanted to knock it out of the park. I wanted to utilize people from my old bands like Loved Ones drummer John Kent. I also invited my newer indie-pop friends from Call & Response, and a young Nedelle Torrisi. Harmony singing by The Moore Brothers was an essential ingredient on Game Preserve as well."

Both Erickson and Davenport fondly recall growing up in households where the music of The Carpenters, Joni Mitchell and The Eagles soundtracked their young lives. By the early 00s they were ready to reconnect with what is often referred to as the "Laurel Canyon" sound. "I'd buy used tapes at garage sales and play them in the car. "Ladies Of The Canyon" by Joni and Jackson Browne's first album were both in heavy rotation. Jon Erickson was getting deeper into the Steely-Mac-Doobie yacht-rock sound in earnest. A certain amount of childhood nostalgia led a lot of us back to that part of the 70s. I'd flirted with classic soft-rock on my first album, but that record was pretty scattered esthetically. I wanted my next one to be more focused. Jon and I made some ground rules: no electric guitars (except on 'Bar-Code Trees'). No synths. Most importantly, all the songs have an air-tight, super dead, close mic'd drum sound. Putting these sorts of limitations on the sessions will give your record a specific quality. In the case of "Game Preserve"it's mostly about tight drums, acoustic instruments and analog production. We used a 24-track, two-inch tape machine for tracking, then ran the mixes through an analog board straight to a 1/4 inch master tape."

While the album's sonic palette may be firmly planted in 1970, Davenport's songwriting covers a sizable landscape of moods and reflections. From the quasi-flamenco intro of 'Sweetest Game' to the somber Wurlitzer of 'Nowhere Left To Go', to the 12-string shimmer of 'Intertwine', "Game Preserve" tells a story of young love, lost innocence and redemption, crossing borders and oceans along the way.

Released in 2003 on family-run Oakland label Antenna Farm, the ultra-analog sounding "Game Preserve" was only made available on digital formats, including CD. Copies were later pressed by labels in Germany and Spain; the latter being one country the album actually did well in, establishing Bart Davenport with a small but loyal fanbase he still enjoys today. Two European tours as support for Kings of Convenience also helped gain a foothold on the continent. Back in the US, however, Davenport and his sophomore album remained quite obscure.

Limited promotion meant it did little, but for the music lovers that heard it, the album undoubtedly remains a classic of the era, deserving far more. Twenty years on, it now finally receives its vinyl debut. "I personally think it holds up well," says Bart of the album two decades later. "The idea was to make something that could be an homage to late 60s/early 70s West Coast pop but hopefully timeless as well. Years on, I hear it as just that. It was a colorful and brief period of my life that felt at times like it could last forever. I discovered the joy of working in a proper studio with a perfect cast of characters. I'm still very close with all these people and still play music with many of them."

black vinyl ltd. to 200 copies incl. album download code. Neun neue Songs + Interludes auf, die euch die Falten aus dem Hintern bügeln werden. Diese fast 50 Minuten feinster, eigenständiger, brutaler, technisch- klassischer Death Metal hören zusammengefasst auf den Albumtitel "From Origin To Decay" und werden als CD, LP sowie in digitaler Form am 22.11.2024 via FDA Records (Vertrieb: Cargo Records) veröffentlicht. Alles wurde einmal erschaffen. Und alles wird vergehen. Und aus allem Verfall kann eine neue Schöpfung entstehen. Dieses Thema findet sich in den Stories der 9 neuen MAAT Songs, die sorgfältig mit 2 separaten atmosphärischen Zwischenspielen arrangiert sind, um einen Klangfluss zu erzeugen. Von der lyrischen Seite werden philosophische Fragen des Werdens, Seins und Vergehens gestellt, indem lyrische Bilder und Stilmittel verwendet werden, die von der Mythologie und Geschichte des alten Ägyptens und des orientalischen Raums inspiriert sind. Textlich und musikalisch dreht sich das Album um den Haupttrack "Perennial Bliss", der das innere Selbst innerhalb von Zeit und Raum und außerhalb von beidem reflektiert. ,From Origin To Decay' ist extrem empfehlenswert for Fans von NILE oder BEHEMOTH. Alle Songs und Lyrics wurden von MAAT geschrieben und im Soundlodge Studio von Jörg Uken aufgenommen, gemischt und gemastert. Jörg hat bereits mit vielen Künstlern wie God Dethroned, Slaughterday, Keitzer oder Anvil zusammengearbeitet.

A1 Northern Lights
Darkly, tense tones take center stage as Northern Lights kicks the LP off, introduced with an eerie synth before classic, striking old school breaks that aficionados will recall from the likes of John Bs Secrets drop, chopped expertly by our Spatial duo to create a quietly vengeful beat pattern with heavy kicks and a unique stuttering detail. Circling menacingly around the mix we are treated to swathes of choral detail, subtle vocal samples and shimmering ambience..

A2 Sunset on Mars
Showcasing the strengths of both producers through a delightfully rich atmosphere, Sunset on Mars opens with soothing echoed effects that ooze a welcoming sense of wonder. Delicate in composition yet still packing a punch, the breaks sit over a sumptuous deep sub bassline which carries our journey through simple key melodies, vivid mood-changing synths superbly to create a pure, wholesome atmospheric bliss.

B1 Totality
Dominant hats and cymbals surf the peaks of the mix early in Totality, detailed old school breakbeats quickly seizing our attention constructed with an effortless attention to detail. A stark, thick atmosphere is carved from a broad backdrop of sound blending vocals and synths, enveloping the listener with a dense, bleak soundscape that develops continually as the breaks roll on with memorable intent.

B2 Reincarnation
A deeply evocative, interstellar intro opens Reincarnation, generating images of lonely spacewalks with trademark Spatial aplomb. The vibe continues through a barrage of heavy analogue amens which crush the mix, edited with a chunky, commanding panache. The listener can picture pillars of isolation and thundering defiance dancing in duality as the elements weave their way fluidly throughout.

C1 Seraphim
Into an intense, epically atmospheric piece next as Seraphim channels the spirit of yesterday for a journey into the souls core via scene-trademark Hot Pants breaks, a moody 808 bassline and swirling atmospheric pads, melodies & synths. Layered with detailed FX demanding repeated listens to soak it all in, Seraphim is a special track which will take over your setlist and the journey home.

C2 Prism of Light
Sit back and relax to another slice of classic atmospheric bliss with Prism of Light, opening with a DJ-friendly hi hat intro before melodic synths generate an instantly unforgettable late-90s vibe. Hot Pants breaks drive us forward with a wondrously simple yet effective mix of 2 step and double kick edits, as blissful ambient washes and vocal hits are drizzled over the mix. Delightful.

D1 Harmonic Function A uniquely constructed beat pattern guaranteed to move you opens Harmonic Function, building up from rushing cymbals and hats intertwined with a fantastic crunchy, metallic half-time snare. Throw in a slew of mournful melodies and blanketed pad work around the mix and youre left with a superbly laid back yet danceable piece from ASC & Aural Imbalance, continually innovating in their music as ever on Spatial.

D2 Fade to Grey
Old school rhythms are on the agenda as our duo close out the album with a tense, meandering exploration through space, circling the planets through mellowed out beats before a layer of dense, analogue breaks are added to the mix as the atmosphere escalates. Exquisitely programmed vocals provide texture and feeling, while an understated bassline rumbling on below, completing a timeless collage of sound.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

imited White Vinyl

Norwegian post punk duo Mayflower Madame return with their 3rd Studio album and we are delighted to welcome them to the Up In Her Room Family!

Norwegian band Mayflower Madame is set to release their highly anticipated third LP Insighton 1st November 2024. The lead singles, "A Foretold Ecstasy" and "Paint It All in Blue," have garnered widespread acclaim and extensive radio support, including airtime on BBC 6 Music. These tracks offer just a glimpse of what the album delivers—an expansive canvas of pulsating post-punk, shimmering shoegaze, and atmospheric psych-noir, masterfully blended with delicate sonic nuances.
Mixed and mastered by Maurizio Baggio (known for his work with The Soft Moon, Boy Harsher, and The Vacant Lots),Insightshowcases the band refining their sound into a sharper and more expansive sonic landscape than ever before. This album sees them exploring greater depths and heights, delivering a hypnotic journey through the shadows, filled with haunting melodies and dreamy melancholia. At the same time, it remains catchy and dynamic, with moments of vibrant brightness.
Insightis dedicated to frontman Trond Fagernes' stillborn daughter and is bookended by two songs—"Ocean of Bitterness" and "Insightfor the Mourning Hours"—that directly address this profound sorrow. Between these somber pieces, the album delves into a wide range of emotions, from nostalgic reflections on lost loves to feverish depictions of escapism and catharsis.
Over the past years, Mayflower Madame have gained a reputation far beyond their hometown of Oslo, Norway. They made their debut with the album ‘Observed in a Dream’ in 2016, which created a buzz in the indie music press and earned them tours across Europe and North America, while 2020s long-awaited sequel ‘Prepared for a Nightmare’ firmly established their position as one of the continent’s leading purveyors of cinematic shoegaze psychedelia swathed in 1980s post-punk and dark romanticism.

SATL has already carved himself into the repertoire of drum & bass, something which can be seen through a succession of releases which have helped push him as a part of its more soulful trenches. SATL is a frequent traveler and performer at SUNANDBASS in Sardinia, also taking pride of place within our SUNANDBASS Recordings tour parties, enabling him to debut his music across a wide-ranging fan base. For him to release an EP on the SUNANDBASS imprint comes as little surprise, with the producer already deeply involved with the SUNANDBASS family.

The 'Braveheart' EP is an intricate look into the sounds which build SATL’s musicality – from its title track featuring Dan Stezo, through to digital bonus 'Maj', it pedestals the direction which has enabled SATL to receive such worldwide recognition. The winding pads of ‘Bravehearts’ and the gloomy lyricism of Dan Stezo gives a darker edge to the opening track, whilst 'Acid Trip' is an immersive experience, one with an urgency that catapults you into its first breakdown. 'Low End Theory' shakes through to its core with a stocky heaviness, then 'Maj' (digital only) takes you down a lighter route, one underpinned by its swatches of tinkling percussion.

From beginning to end, SATL takes you on a journey and it’s one with the mechanics that he’s becoming renowned for. Joining SUNANDBASS Recordings once again, it’ll be a welcome addition for any DJ and fan looking to add to another gem to their catalogue.

Ava Mendoza has never made an album quite as personal as her second solo full-length, The Circular Train. Through her decades of collaborations with Nels Cline, Carla Bozulich, William Parker, Fred Frith, Matana Roberts, and Mick Barr—plus years leading her power trio Unnatural Ways and playing in Bill Orcutt’s quartet—the guitarist’s name has become synonymous with virtuoso technique, raw passion, and visceral resonance, a player pushing the edges of the guitar’s possibilities. Along the way, from 2007 to 2023, Mendoza was writing these slow-burning, incandescent songs. The Circular Train is comprised solely of her single-tracked guitar playing and, on two songs, her corporeal singing. Her first solo LP of original material since relocating from California to New York City a decade ago, much of The Circular Train was honed amid pandemic years that clarified the virtues of slowing down. This expressive avant-rock is a definitive introduction to one of the most uncompromising and inquisitive visions in creative music. Mendoza’s thrilling melange of free jazz, blues, noise, classical training, and blazing experimental rock’n’roll all coheres with ecstatic feedback, with picking and solos that crest with shimmer. Sometimes she sounds like a one-woman Sonic Youth with guttural and poised vocals that equally evoke Patti Smith and blues greats like Jessie Mae Hemphill. Conceptually, The Circular Train is presented as a psychogeographical train ride through certain of Mendoza’s musical homelands. The songs draw on ancestral and recent familial memories, notably of her parents’ roots in mining towns—in her father’s home country of Bolivia and mother’s hometown of Butte, Montana, each country with its own history of colonialism, racism, forced labor, the eradication of culture and the subsequent excavation of it. These adventurous songs were composed in cars and planes, in the heart of the Mississippi Delta, in Los Angeles and upstate New York—which is to say in motion. “Ride to Cerro Rico,” named for the mountain and silver mine at the center of Potosi, Bolivia, was inspired by Mendoza’s great grandmother’s life there in a Quechua mining family. “Dust From the Mines” drew from that history as well as Mendoza’s familial lineage of miners in Montana, building up to stunning swaths of shredded iridescence. “Pink River Dolphins” was inspired by a visit to the Amazon rainforest, swimming with dolphins alongside her father—the pink bufeos that inhabit both Bolivia and Columbia—and the song is dedicated to the memory of Mendoza’s late friend, the Colombian-American trumpeter jaimie branch. They shared a fascination with those intelligent and agile creatures who often communicate by echolocation. “Make a sound, it comes back around,” Mendoza sings, and later, “Echo, echo/The answer in a sound,” evoking what branch knew well: through music we navigate life. The Circular Train contains one cover, “Irene, Goodnight,” composed by Gussie Lord Davis and popularized by Leadbelly; Mendoza has been performing it for over 20 years. Almost as deeply embedded in her repertoire is the penultimate track, “The Shadow Song.” “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you good,” Mendoza sings on this song that she’s been reworking for over a decade, an emblem of devotion. “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you right,” she repeats, becoming a blues mantra. What is a shadow self if not one’s secret world, which, once laid bare, awaits an echo, a return?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

Having spent their formative years in São Paulo Brazil, as a teenager, Lau Ro found themself uprooted from their home. Moving with their family to Europe in search of a better quality of life, their story was like that of many immigrants in the same position. Lau Ro's parents found work in factories and cleaning jobs, for the first few years in the North of Italy and then in Brighton on England's Southern coast. "We never managed to visit back home, so my connection to Brazil became largely made up of childhood memories and my fascination with all the 60s and 70s music I could find from there."

In Brighton, the young non-binary singer and composer would immerse themself amongst the city's vanguard of free-thinking artists and musicians. Lau Ro formed Wax Machine whose prefigurative, psychedelic community provided a glimmer of countercultural hope amid a backdrop of national political decline. From 2020-23, Wax Machine birthed three cult-favourite albums in as many years; indebted in part to their British psychedelic forebears from progressive folk, rock and jazz yore. But the kernel of Lau's Brazilian sound was already beginning to blossom across Wax Machine's releases. Now, taking root deeper still, Lau Ro steps forward with their debut album: Cabana.

Named after the small wood cabin at the bottom of their garden where the album was recorded, Cabana is a deeply personal record of memory, self-discovery and imagination. Melancholy and hope combine across ten tracks of dreamy bossa, ambient folk, fuzzy tropicalia and majestic MPB. The music is swathed in masterful string arrangements and trippy electronics in equal part, while Lau Ro's delicate, yet quietly confident voice takes acerbic aim (in both English and Portuguese) at polluted city life, while dreaming of a utopia, rich with nature and wildlife.

Like the musical equivalent of semantic drift, Lau Ro's displacement led to the creation of another Brazil. A mythic place in Lau's soul, as they put it, "where the sunshine and joy of my childhood remained untapped." Lau continues: "It's music that might sound as if it came out of a parallel universe Brazil, rather than its modern day landscape. I am nowadays rediscovering Brazil, going back as often as I can and trying to stay connected to these different parts of the world and myself."

Now on our sixth release & going strong, Brooklyn Sway returns with a heady combination of local producers, further-afield figures and scene-setting interludes to get that real Bucktown mood, accompanied by bold new artwork from NYC "Grafstract" muralist Fumero.

After words of wisdom from originator David Morales, St. Xose, patron saint of afterhours, re-rubs his own entry from BKS-01 into an electro flip with a forceful but smooth strut, Nathan Nothing's ephemeral vocals vanishing in spaces between steady bass pulses and broken beats. Those looking for late-night addresses check Noha's 'Madison Street 932', where the PanickPanick! label head proves his local cred with a funky, vocal sample-driven house jam equally at home on its eponymous street corner or somewhere later, darker, and preferably inside.

Label regulars DeWinter & Emma return with 'Unity', the spoken word Spanish vocals interweaving with choppy snare patterns and a room-filling reverberating bass roar that hits paydirt when English vox and a kick hit late in its second half. C&K are local legends Connie & Karina, and while that may not be some punters' first guess for their moniker's meaning, the track is an exercise in restraint and class, jaunty house swathed in dub echoes and hand drums that positively sways when the trombone lead swings in to carry the tune.

Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.

The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?

As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.

It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”

Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”

***

In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.

Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.

The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.

Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.

By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.

They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”

Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”

By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.

The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”

“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”

Dialling up the needlepoint rhythmic science and deadly restraint we hold so dear, SPD debuts on Sneaker Social Club with a taut four-tracker built for smashing systems with measured flair. It's no surprise to learn Will Sheppard has graced labels like Keysound, EC2A and Roska Kicks + Snares in recent times, given his sound taps into the UK bassweight lineage while maintaining a necessary futuristic tilt.

'Genbu' deals in the kind of stripped back, snaking sequences that keep a body of people rolling deep into the dance, powered by sounds so crisp you'd think they'd slipped out of a trouser press. Maintaining this sonic poise, 'Systema' is a lean, bleep-speckled roller with a firm grip on the square wave snarls lurking below the midrange.

'Willman' rides a choppier groove, but still Sheppard holds down the dance with a monk-like patience, finding power in the art of holding back before opening out into the subtly emotional swathes of 'OK' to round the record out. The devil is in the detail, and there are deep-diving layers to the sound of SPD, but this is a specific angle on club music that prizes subtlety and meditation over brash arrangement swerves and bait hype trysts. For selectors seeking sublime set builders, SPD has got you.

2026 Repress

Un-American Activities is the 11th Studio album by Molly Nilsson. Written and recorded entirely on location in California at the former home of writer, poet and early opponent of the National Socialist regime in 1930s Germany, Lion Feuchtwanger and his wife Marta. An album of experimentation, genre-mashing and, above it all, Nilsson’s instantly recognisable melodic skill and empathy, it continues the songwriter’s explorations of power, freedom, oppression and its opposing force, a love unbound.
After accepting an artist residency as part of the Villa Aurora program, Nilsson began work crafting a new album from scratch in a new environment, afforded the freedom, space and time to challenge her practice and take her music into new territory. The resulting work, Un American Activities, is a love note not only to the artist who was among the very first to be declared an “enemy of the state” by the Nazi regime but also to both the eternal struggle he fought and the human spirit that pervades all of Nilsson’s best work. It is also a double-pointed poison pen letter: a critique of the new forms of oppression wielded by her temporary adopted country of the USA but also an acknowledgement of the promise it always offers but never fulfils.
Along with the novel use of colour and photography in the artwork for Un-American Activities, there are swathes of new techniques, genres and timbres new to Molly Nilsson’s music in evidence, 16 years into her music career. On Jackboots Return is an icicle-cold New Beat track that deals directly with the current situation in Germany and the resurgent Nazi-affiliated AfD. The question the song asks is, what’s the timeframe we’re talking about? Is this the 30s, or somewhere a lot closer to home? The beat is picked up on The Communist Party, Nilsson’s deepest bow to House music, evoking the early 90s Rave pioneers, Belgian 80s music and Vogue-era Madonna. Here the lyrics are direct quotes from the McCarthy-era, anti-Communist pamphlet 100 Things You Should Know About Communism in the U.S.A. The Beauty Of The Duty does to pounding Electro what Nilsson’s last album Extreme did to Metal: subsume it into the Molly Nilsson aesthetic. It goes hard.
While Un-American Activities finds Nilsson experimenting, creating instinctive music on a first-thought-bestthought basis there are still “classic” Molly moments liberally spread throughout. Excalibur feels like the Molly of old, an absolute star of a chorus refrain smudged with the vaseline of fuzz and hope, Red Telephone is wide-eyed, slathered in reverb and chorus effects, distorted with soaring melody, a heart-tugger that tugs the body upwards to the heavens with each evolving wave. Glistening digital tones wash through the album, providing a Y2K etherealness to Nilsson’s audacious Stars and Stripes reference to Wetcheeks. Perhaps the album’s standout, however, is Palestine (Somewhere Over The Rainbow), which is suffuse with empathy, solidarity and, in referencing the classic socialist-penned canon song from The Wizard Of Oz, speaks directly to the tradition of fighting oppression with full hearts of hope.

Crime In Australia follows 2022's The Real Work, the first Party Dozen record that (some) people were actually waiting for; the one that Nick Cave sang on; the one that had a track that billy woods jumped on for a rework; the one that took them to the USA, Europe (twice), Japan, China and New Zealand; the one that saw Party Dozen hook up with a cool US label (Temporary Residence Ltd.); the one that made Bandcamp, Stereogum, Brooklyn Vegan and a whole swathe of Australian radio stations declare it their Album of the Day/Week/Epoch; and the one that made KEXP invite the band in for a live session, and made Sub Pop add to their hallowed Singles Club. The Real Work was not the first Party Dozen record, but it was in many ways where Party Dozen really started to put it all together. Crime In Australia continues to build on their arc, and elevates their ascent with a slew of new songs that are simultaneously more focused and more feral than anything they've ever done. And there are no guests on this one.

Crime In Australia follows 2022's The Real Work, the first Party Dozen record that (some) people were actually waiting for; the one that Nick Cave sang on; the one that had a track that billy woods jumped on for a rework; the one that took them to the USA, Europe (twice), Japan, China and New Zealand; the one that saw Party Dozen hook up with a cool US label (Temporary Residence Ltd.); the one that made Bandcamp, Stereogum, Brooklyn Vegan and a whole swathe of Australian radio stations declare it their Album of the Day/Week/Epoch; and the one that made KEXP invite the band in for a live session, and made Sub Pop add to their hallowed Singles Club. The Real Work was not the first Party Dozen record, but it was in many ways where Party Dozen really started to put it all together. Crime In Australia continues to build on their arc, and elevates their ascent with a slew of new songs that are simultaneously more focused and more feral than anything they've ever done. And there are no guests on this one.

Black Metal, Symphonic grandeur and Deathcore brutality collide in the majestic new album from A WAKE IN PROVIDENCE. 'I Write To You My Darling Decay' is a swathing monster of a record, citing influences from all across the heavy spectrum. As one of the established veterans of the Blackened Deathcore movement, AWIP are now here to set their sights on total domination as they rise to the upper echelons of the genre.

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

The second LP by Tokyo ambient conceptualists UNKNOWN ME began as a commission for historic Japanese cosmetic conglomerate Shiseido, conjuring audio approximations of seasons and scents, but soon flowered into its own refracted and rarefied environment: Bitokagaku. Translated as “beauty and science,” the album is the foursome’s first composed solely with software, reflecting the collection’s utopian, laboratorial muse. 
From levitational electronica (“A Rainbow in Meditative Air”) and vaporous downtempo (“Dancing Leaves”) to planetarium reverie (“Kitsune No Yomeiri”) and AI IDM (“Retreat Beats”), the music moves like weather patterns in a bio-dome: dazzling, microcosmic, and delicately calibrated. Percolating synths crossfade with field recordings from Shiseido’s research division; the sound of streams and distant birds blur into a processed haze; clinical voices read lists of precious stones. It’s a vision of new age as soft robotics, of serenity streamlined by sentient systems.
UM’s team of engineers (Yakenohara, P-RUFF, H. Takahashi, and Osawa Yudai) cite an eclectic swath of inspirations behind Bitokagaku – molecules, stars, Kenji Miyazawa, Akira Kurosawa, even “the sparkle of rainbows” – but their guiding artistic principle is as ancient as it is eternal: “beauty.”

A1 - Shadowplay
A delicate intro with samples of bustling twilight life gradually eases you into Shadowplay, before a retrospective melody echoes around an uncertain soundscape. Light breaks and pads develop the vibe before the track transforms as the unmistakable Demon's Theme break returns, superbly crafted rolling amens taking you right back to 1992 in ASC's expertly executed, inimitable Spatial style.
A2 - Lacuna
Crisp, sharp breaks open Lacuna in rampant stuttering style, a sci-fi aura riddling this detailed piece with hi hats and machine gun kicks, quickly conjuring a suspenseful intrigue alongside constant pads and epic effects. Driven by deep sub bass and a haunting melody that captivates the listener, long cymbals and synthwork continue before the second half of the track deepens further before the breaks subside for a lush, calming outro.
AA1 - Dimensions
ASC delivers a stunning, deeply atmospheric track with Dimensions, introduced by swathes of elegant synthwork before the Hot Pants breaks begin, chopped elegantly while a heavy bassline drops and the coloured soundscape whooshes and swirls as yearning vocals reverberate. After a sullen breakdown the breaks return and switch up to a rolling 2-step pattern which will leave you and your dancefloor drifting to another realm.
AA2 - Southern Cross
Closing the EP we have Southern Cross, a pensive number with a delicate, intricate selection of breaks - refined with exquisite clarity - set to washes of pads and synths across the mix. ASC utilises a simple high note melody to punctuate proceedings over the swirling atmospherics and breaks, creating a subtle ghostly feel to the track - perfect for a mid set direction shift or an introspective set closer as well as mesmerising headphone material.
Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Originally released in 1983 on Hessian.

Bryn Jones’ work was justly known for its excess—of tracks created, of rhetoric, of volume levels, of repetition, of length—and the sometimes indiscriminate way he produced material as Muslimgauze carried over into his approach to the part of the business that involved getting people to actually hear his music. Known for the deluge of DATs he’d share with the labels he worked with, Jones also didn’t necessarily restrict himself to just one outlet.

Very early in his career, in the same year the first two Muslimgauze LPs came out (1983), Jones released an obscure 7” single with completely blank black sleeve art on a label called Hessian. »Hammer & Sickle« is to date the only release on Hessian (which may have just been Jones himself?). Those two LPs, Kabul and Opaques, are fascinating in the context of the full swath of Jones’ work. They’re much spacier, more drifting, and notably less interested in using the kind of Middle Eastern percussion and other instrumentation that’s such a distinct element on many Muslimgauze releases. »Hammer & Sickle« operates in a similar territory, but if anything a little further out from the main body of Jones’ work.

The side-long title track and the three b-sides here are all cut from the same cloth, spacious productions that mainly play rounded synth percussion against echoing, ›bag of wire‹-style dub hits. After the lengthy examination of »Hammer & Sickle« itself, the other three cuts experiment with altering pitch, duration, tempo, and other elements as if testing the ways Jones could vary the effects of the title track without ever ditching its component parts. His sound was already quickly evolving (even the next year’s Buddhist on Fire is closer to what fans likely picture when they think of the »Muslimgauze sound«), leaving »Hammer & Sickle« an intriguing and valuable portrait of one of Jones’ early side investigations.

The Homeliss Derilex are a Milpitas, CA crew and have been making a name for themselves in the underground scene since the early 90's with a superb laidback and jazz-influenced style. They released their self-titled debut back in 1993 on tape, which in the meantime has become an elusive collectable piece. They followed that up by releasing various 12" singles in the 90's and enjoyed a successful stint with Stones Throw Records.

With two critically acclaimed albums and a swathe of award-winning production turns under their belt, Ana Frango Elétrico present their most confident and accomplished work to date: Me Chama De Gato Que Eu Sou Sua / Call Me They That I’m Yours. Gesturing to a tradition of Brazilian boogie music, but bouncing with modern pop ebullience, the album sees the Rio artist evolve from a captivating upstart into a surefooted scene leader in full stride.

At just 25, the prolific artist and producer has already garnered worldwide admirers. Ana’s sophomore Little Electric Chicken Heart was nominated at the 2020 Latin Grammys. Since then, standalone singles have received the WME ‘Best Music Producer’ Award, recognising Ana’s deep passion for music production – a passion which has led to collaborations with nascent Brazilian stars Dora Morelenbaum, Illy and Sophia Chablau. Most recently, Ana was hailed for their co-production of Bala Desejo’s 2022 Latin Grammy-winning album Sim Sim Sim.

The new album finds Ana at their most assured and full voiced. Album opener “Electric Fish”, with funky bass and shimmering backing vocals, sets a buoyant tone. “Boy of Stranger Things” is its bombastic counterpart. It’s the grooviest Ana has ever sounded. And the most brazen. Lyrically, where Ana was once oblique on personal matters, they are now forthright – lucidly exploring their gender identity, citing accessible cultural references, and often singing in English.

“I started this album in 2021 with the intention of showing, in means of sound, understandings and feelings about queer love, subjectively exposing myself,” the non-binary artist states – before qualifying that though “feeling was its driving force, the album is really about musical production.”

“There’s so many references to different decades,” Ana explains. “Seventies drums with eighties processing … Going back, getting beyond … Testing the limits of organic sounds”. Characteristically playful, on Me Chama, Ana takes vivid and rewarding detours through funk-inflected R&B (“Dela”) and art pop (“Dr. Sabe Tudo”). “Nuvem Vermelha” is a cinematic chanson with lush strings that recalls Arthur Verocai. Then, “Coisa Maluca” loafs with the indie insouciance of Canadian slacker Mac Demarco. Later, “Let's Go Before Again”, is a full-on drum machine workout evocative of Stereolab.

Returning to Damian Lazarus’ renowned label for their seventh EP on the label, the Gruuv bosses showcase the latest evolution of their rich and diverse sound, with the dancefloor-driven quartet of hot cuts!

From their early beginnings between Ibiza and their hometown of Leeds to a near twenty-year-long career that has taken them from Space (Ibiza) to Womb (Tokyo), fabric (London) to Zouk (Singapore), UK duo Audiojack have remained and continue to prove themselves as both ever-present dancefloor hit makers, but artists that have helped carry the UK’s evolving house sound. From their initial releases on Leftroom and 2020vision through to their Crosstown Rebels debut in 2016, and then fast-forwarding to recent music on Solid Grooves, Knee Deep In Sound and their own Gruuv imprint, the pair’s unwavering passion for fresh sounds continues to burn bright. Now regulars on Damian Lazarus’ iconic imprint, serving up five EPs, numerous remixes, and their 2021 album ‘Surface Tension’ on the label to date, the end of May welcomes the duo’s latest chapter on Crosstown with their latest EP, ‘Play With My Mind’.

The skippy and vibrant ‘Play With My Mind’ opens the package with an abundance of nostalgia, channelling 90s sonics via the infectious organ melody and hooky vocals at its core, while ‘Casual Verve’ is trippy and loose while delivering a slice of driving funk to the mix. Next, ‘Connect’ provides a vocal-led, garage-dipped cut that keeps the energy levels sizzling before ‘Delirium’ closes the show with a swathe of pure dancefloor ecstasy.

SIMON AND GARFUNKEL’S SWAN SONG: BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER FEATURES METICULOUS PRODUCTION, GORGEOUS SONGWRITING, AND HEALING SPIRIT
Sourced from the Original Master Tapes and Limited to 4,000 Numbered Copies: Mobile Fidelity’s 180s SuperVinyl 33RPM LP Plays with Staggering Detail, Clarity, and Definition
1/4" / 15 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe



Unifying, soothing, comforting: Simon and Garfunkel's Bridge over Troubled Water quickly became the album of an era upon release in 1970, the benchmark set serving as a beacon of hope and hymn of reassurance during a time marked by polarizing changes, social unrest, uncertain politics, and the dawn of a new era. These uplifting reasons — to say nothing about the gorgeous songwriting, meticulous production, and watershed performances — attest to why it is more relevant than ever in our current climate. Music, Bridge over Troubled Water simultaneously suggests and proves, heals all wounds and lifts all boats.

The seminal effort Rolling Stone named the 51st Greatest Album of All Time reaches illustrious sonic and emotional heights on Mobile Fidelity’s 180g SuperVinyl 33RPM LP. Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, this ultra-hi-fi collector's edition brings you closer to music that picks up where the duo's Bookends leaves off. You'll enjoy deep-black backgrounds and pointillist details. Seemingly every note, breath, and movement is reproduced with exquisite accuracy, clarity, and balance. Each rotation benefits from SuperVinyl’s ultra-low noise floor and superb groove definition.

The best-selling record in the U.S. for several years running and winner of six Grammy Awards — including nods for Record of the Year, Album of the Year, Song of the Year, and Best Engineered Recording — Bridge over Troubled Water endures as a staple of accessible sophistication, angelic elegance, effortless singing, unhinged ambition, and therapeutic spirit. While it would turn out to be the final studio set for a duo surrounded by creative and personal disagreement, Simon and Garfunkel's collaborative ethos and soaring harmonies — combined with reflective narratives centred on the American experience, friendship, romance, and farewells — combine to turn the 11-track work into a paean to resolution, reconciliation, calm, and balance.

Home to the legendary title track graced by Garfunkel's pacifying solo lead vocals as well as the equally famous folk ballad "The Boxer," Peruvian-based "El Condor Pasa," upbeat "Cecilia," and rock ’n’ rolling "Baby Driver,” Bridge over Troubled Water remains as renowned for its musical diversity as its lyrical poignancy. Moving beyond the templates they'd perfected on four prior albums, Simon and Garfunkel embrace a then-unimaginable swath of styles. Rock, pop, gospel, country, R&B, South American, and jazz strains course throughout the songs, each sparked with bold experiments yet grounded in a well-orchestrated melange of melody, rhythm, and classicism that makes everything personal, familiar, and warm.

Not for nothing is Bridge over Troubled Water one of the finest-sounding albums ever made. Featuring instrumentation helmed by members of Los Angeles' fabled Wrecking Crew as well as multiple choral and string sections, songs took hundreds of hours to complete and involved pioneering recording techniques. Evoking both Phil Spector's live"Wall of Sound" approach as well as inventive effects, Bridge over Troubled Water is a triumph of texture, atmosphere, and architecture. Our audiophile edition brings the record's unique traits to the fore.

Whether the reverberation generated by Garfunkel's cassette recorder on "Cecilia," echoing drums captured in a corridor heard throughout "The Boxer," automobile noises peppering "Baby Driver," layer upon layer of voices dotting "The Only Boy Living in New York," or echo-chamber percussion on the title track, details comes through with stunning accuracy, clarity, and dimensionality. In every regard, Bridge over Troubled Water exudes genius.

Luxury Apartments have spent long enough pondering in the orb of creative frustration as art charged city dwellers and have alchemised a jagged piece of guitar work that calls on the past for a quick catch up before cracking on with their day as a witty, energised and wiry punk band. Formed before your favourite East London neighbourhood became full of high rises, cockapoos and pubs with Madri & Beavertown on Draft, there’s a whole swath of words you could use to describe Luxury Apartments, but doing so might draw too many parallels to estate agent listings wo we’re gonna let their track record and new LP do the talking… LA played with the likes of TOY, TELEGRAM, Deep Tan, Es, The Chisel and Rifle before even having an LP. Mixing dry humour with a belting live show served them well while the guys were woodshedding and earnt them early fans such as Graham Coxon and Jamie Reynolds, who I can only gather shed a single tear of seeing where they came from with all the chaotic guitar-busting, skin-splitting, bottle-smashing madness of an early LA show. But we’re here talking about NOW and NOW is the time to get your pre-order for their first LP, a half hour of power smashing the atoms of 80s c86 indie on lead track ‘Energy’, 77 punk on ‘Wire’ and new garage rock explosions on ‘Taliban’ which morph in to a piece of black wax that’s 100% guaranteed to get the disenfranchised wiggling, the fed-up hurling half bricks through foxtons windows and the punk lifers flipping off yet another boss before carving out another fork in their paths of resistance.

Tulsa, Oklahoma's Unwed Sailor have been on a tear over the past few years. Following a quiet phase through much of the 2010s, they reëmerged with the aptly titled Heavy Age (2019), and two more full-lengths, Truth Or Consequences (2021) and Mute The Charm (2023), that chart a remarkable evolution of their bass-led, pop-leaning post rock. On Underwater Over There - their ninth LP overall - a current of 80s goth and jangle-pop runs beneath a litany of memorable hooks and compositional left turns, creating a propulsive and intricate world of sound. The band worked collectively on all elements of mixing and production to craft a meticulously layered environment, while maintaining an air of spontaneity and experimentation across the set. Early standout, "Final Feather", drifts through varying landscapes of airiness and haze on a high-neck bass hook, while the hum of voices adds a contrast of angelic comfort. Bearing influence from New Order and The Cure in particular, its balance of gravitas and shimmer is the result of founding member Johnathon Ford's intuitive writing method: the lead bass line comes first, followed by supporting melodies, drums, guitars, keys, and final detailing. "Dusty" is a prime example of this process, as Ford's powerful, low-end groove anchors a full-spectrum array of guitars, bells, and arpeggiations along with Matt Putman's energetic drum section. Its fluid pacing provides a perfect establishing shot, with shifting moods that gather into a coda guided by David Swatzell's harmonized, glittering guitar riffs - a sunrise after a moonless night. In quick succession, "Blue Tangier" widens the aperture with a pounding percussive refrain, vibrant bass tone and an unforgettable, fuzzed-out melodic motif. Sprawling centerpiece, "Junko", is a loose callback to 2003's The Marionette and The Music Box, its deliberate stride and interwoven melodies evoking the hands of a mechanical clock, and the anticipation of something long-awaited but nebulous. It drifts effortlessly from innocence to intrigue, expands into a mesmerizing howl, and vanishes abruptly into mist. While honoring their forebears in winks and nods, Unwed Sailor remain totally inimitable in their approach and style, twenty-five years into an acclaimed career. The band's clear vision for Underwater Over There has yielded some of their most indelible work, and their inventive, passionate approach gives a strong sense of plenty more beyond the horizon.

Advitam Aeternamour, Cléa Vincent's third album, will be released on 29 March 2024 by Midnight Special.

If the 90s gave us “French touch,” then the 2010s ushered in “French pop,” and it was in the midst of this revival that Cléa began her artistic journey. As early as the music video for

“Achète-le-moi” from her debut LP Retiens mon désir (2016), we witness the singer striking selfie-like poses with her French pop comrades (La Femme, Bertrand Burgalat), appearing pell-mell on screen in the form of their vinyl records. Since then, whether singing with Philippe Katerine or co-producing (and composing) Jeanne Balibar's D'ici là tout l'été (2023), Cléa Vincent has effortlessly carved out a niche for herself in the French pop scene. The advantage of being a “jack-of-all-trades” — Cléa is a writer, composer, and producer — is that her music casts a wide net. Both highly acclaimed in the indie circuit and “as seen on TV” (on Quotidien, among others), she has also enjoyed a stint as the host for web-TV show Sooo Pop, for which she regularly interviewed a plethora of French artists. Beyond France, the singer tours extensively. After a run of concerts in Europe, Asia, North and South America, it was her visit to Latin and Central America that inspired Tropi-cléa (2017-2020-2022). The three EPs bathed in a tropicalist glow do more than just dip their toes in the water; they mark a deep desire to escape in a post-lockdown world.

In between these projects emerged Cléa’s LP Nuits sans sommeil (2019). The album quickly became an instant classic and lives up to its name, since Clea never seems to stop — writing, composing, singing, or dancing. Mixed by Stephane ALF Briat, who has lent his magic touch to records by Phoenix, Bonnie Banane, Air, and Flavien Berger, Cléa Vincent's third LP Advitam Aeternamour proves once again that her music is in perpetual renewal. The artist takes risks both in her pursuit for innovative sounds and in the themes she tackles: coming out, incest, grief...and of course, she will always be a true romantic at heart; there’s no need to be ashamed of loving love. Cléa’s songs are full of “explicit lyrics,” but not in the typical sense: rather than ringing harsh and raw, her words are tinged with sweetness and melancholy, at the risk of shocking less sentimental listeners.

Written hand-in-hand with Raphaël Léger, her creative soulmate for the last ten years who also recorded and produced the album, Advitam Aeternamour features lyrics charged with Epinal and equinox imagery. On the poignantly sober title track, sudden flashes of light are padded by tinkling synthesizers swathed in the voices of an angelic choir, as also heard on “Nuit de Yalda.” Cléa offers a modern take on 90s house music (“C'est Ok”) and 2-step garage (“Free Demain”). Particularly influenced by The Beloved, she is not above dipping pop songs into the electronic melting pot to get them through the club door (“État Second,” where we “turn up the BPM”). And whether on “Shut down ma tête,” or “Douce Chavirée,” Cléa pushes the champagne cork down even further so that the party never stops. The bass gets louder, the rhythm intensifies — the melodies of these eternal hits are an invitation onto the dance floor, lit up by her smile.

As depicted in the soothing embrace that appears on the album artwork, the bright psychedelic hues are the perfect complement to her therapeutically inclined synthetic pop. Even if they tackle themes such as breakups, Cléa's songs, which are vitamin-packed and deep on the surface, are intended to heal and repair. “Se laisser partir,” with its light vocoder echoes, emulating the vocal shadow of a loved one, is an optimistic breakup song. Advitam Æternamour gives us life, from birth to grief — and in the middle, wild, beating passion. If her songs resonate with us, it's because Cléa speaks to us in her songs, as heard on the girl power anthem “Free demain,” where she addresses the listener as a friend (“put the pedal to the metal and you’ll take off for the stars”). When she shares the microphone with Jacques on “État Second,” enveloped by the sounds of unidentified musical objects, the complementary nature of the two artists is evident. The album is as much a tribute to the healing virtues of music as it is a self-portrait of Cléa inhabited by her art. Ad vitam æternam and with love.

Convinced Friend is the musical project of singer-songwriter Austin Wilson. Originally from an oilfield town south of New Orleans, he relocated to New England in 2018 which led to a renewed commitment to songwriting. The result is a collection of largehearted indie rock songs. From the motorik pulse of album opener “White Collar’’ dissecting the alienation of modern work and wellness, to the dusky waltz of “Safeway’’ addressing lingering questions of long-term commitment, to the pensive and layered arrangements in “Open Bloom” and “When I Go”, the album incorporates a wide swath of dynamics centered on lush guitar work and a clear lyrical voice and resolve. RIYL: Pedro The Lion, Jose Gonzales, Jason Molina, Red House Painters.

The vinyl is pressed as a cream disc.

Convinced Friend is the musical project of singer-songwriter Austin Wilson. Originally from an oilfield town south of New Orleans, he relocated to New England in 2018 which led to a renewed commitment to songwriting. The result is a collection of largehearted indie rock songs. From the motorik pulse of album opener “White Collar’’ dissecting the alienation of modern work and wellness, to the dusky waltz of “Safeway’’ addressing lingering questions of long-term commitment, to the pensive and layered arrangements in “Open Bloom” and “When I Go”, the album incorporates a wide swath of dynamics centered on lush guitar work and a clear lyrical voice and resolve. RIYL: Pedro The Lion, Jose Gonzales, Jason Molina, Red House Painters.

With two critically acclaimed albums and a swathe of award-winning production turns under their belt, Ana Frango Elétrico present their most confident and accomplished work to date: Me Chama De Gato Que Eu Sou Sua / Call Me They That I’m Yours. Gesturing to a tradition of Brazilian boogie music, but bouncing with modern pop ebullience, the album sees the Rio artist evolve from a captivating upstart into a surefooted scene leader in full stride.

At just 25, the prolific artist and producer has already garnered worldwide admirers. Ana’s sophomore Little Electric Chicken Heart was nominated at the 2020 Latin Grammys. Since then, standalone singles have received the WME ‘Best Music Producer’ Award, recognising Ana’s deep passion for music production – a passion which has led to collaborations with nascent Brazilian stars Dora Morelenbaum, Illy and Sophia Chablau. Most recently, Ana was hailed for their co-production of Bala Desejo’s 2022 Latin Grammy-winning album Sim Sim Sim.

The new album finds Ana at their most assured and full voiced. Album opener “Electric Fish”, with funky bass and shimmering backing vocals, sets a buoyant tone. “Boy of Stranger Things” is its bombastic counterpart. It’s the grooviest Ana has ever sounded. And the most brazen. Lyrically, where Ana was once oblique on personal matters, they are now forthright – lucidly exploring their gender identity, citing accessible cultural references, and often singing in English.

“I started this album in 2021 with the intention of showing, in means of sound, understandings and feelings about queer love, subjectively exposing myself,” the non-binary artist states – before qualifying that though “feeling was its driving force, the album is really about musical production.”

“There’s so many references to different decades,” Ana explains. “Seventies drums with eighties processing … Going back, getting beyond … Testing the limits of organic sounds”. Characteristically playful, on Me Chama, Ana takes vivid and rewarding detours through funk-inflected R&B (“Dela”) and art pop (“Dr. Sabe Tudo”). “Nuvem Vermelha” is a cinematic chanson with lush strings that recalls Arthur Verocai. Then, “Coisa Maluca” loafs with the indie insouciance of Canadian slacker Mac Demarco. Later, “Let's Go Before Again”, is a full-on drum machine workout evocative of Stereolab.

“Even if people don't find my own references here, they'll find theirs,” observes Ana. “Maybe that’s this record’s biggest goal.”

After their highly praised debut record "I" - called "a sparkling electro-jazz and cinematographic hybridization game" and "refreshingly futuristic big band music" - the french quintet returns with the new full length called "II". Notilus is back, more raw and free than ever, taking a journey through both evening shadows and luminous mornings, through long expanses of suspended time as well as hypnotic swathes of dancing vibes. It crosses vast tundras, ascends snowy mountain ranges, reaches swampy troubled waters bathed in eerie light, at the crossroad between Jazz, Techno, Ambient music and self-reflexion.

The Notilus Orchestration:
Philippe Rieger : machines
Mathieu Goust : drums & percussions
Guillaume Nuss : trombone & effets
Christophe Rieger : saxophone & effets
Paul Barbieri : cornet, synthétiseurs

Luis Vasquez never intended for The Soft Moon to reach the public's ears; for him, music has always been about self-actualization rather than self-aggrandizement. Nevertheless, the bleak, hushed sounds he created years ago in his small Oakland apartment bubbled to the surface and 2010 saw his debut LP, The Soft Moon, released on Captured Tracks rise to critical acclaim. Pitchfork's 8.1 review stated that Vasquez made "oblivion seems likean enticing prospect" and, indeed, listeners were immediately drawn into his murky musical wasteland, swathed in the moody atmospheres of jagged dark wave and wayfaring postpunk. For them, and for Vasquez, there was no turning back. The Total Decay EP and Zeros emerged soon after, and now Vasquez returns with The Soft Moon's most introspective and focused album to date: Deeper.With eerie, immersive tracks like the dogged "Far" and slow, beautifully melancholic "Wasting", the album is a penetrating portrait of Vasquez as he wrestles thoughts of suicide, vulnerability and what it means to heal. Deeper may have delivered Vasquez back to the waking world, but it willingly drags us further into The Soft Moon's dark, euphonic universe once more.

Randy Rice mixed accoustic singer-songwriter songs with electrifying acid guitar in his marvellous privately pressed double album from 1974.

Offered here in a much needed reissue so you do not have to spend over a grand for an original copy.

Housed in it's original minimalist hand made artwork with the little upgrade twist of silk-screen printing.

· First ever vinyl reissue of ultra rare privately pressed double LP!

· Remastered sound!

· Reproductions of the two original inserts!

· Plus a new one with liner notes by Randy Rice himself sharing his memories of the recording!

I was between the ages of 18 and 20 when I wrote the 22 songs found on To Anyone Who Ever Laughed at Someone Else. They express the thoughts and frustrations, hopes and fears of a young man coming of age in a world that was full of upheaval and transformation. I was a product of that period in America we call the sixties—those years between the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in November 1963 and the resignation of President Richard Nixon in August 1974. In fact, this record was released that same month Nixon resigned. Over the next five years, I toured the country as an acoustic artist performing at clubs, coffeehouses and colleges. During that time, I watched the idealism and social consciousness of the sixties slowly fade away. In its place emerged a cynicism and materialism that still seems to be with us so many years later. More than anything else, I think To Anyone Who Ever Laughed at Someone Else is a time capsule that speaks to us from a past era. A period when, above all other things, we asked questions. We questioned our country, we questioned our faith, we questioned the very purpose of life itself. I am very excited to bring those questions and these songs to a new generation on a new continent. Special thanks to my friends Jordi Segura of Wah Wah Records who took the initiative to release this 50th Anniversary Re-issue of To Anyone Who Ever Laughed at Someone Else and Michel Veenstra Klinkhamer, who introduced us.

A1.Hello
A2. Mr. Dumpty, Before The Fall
A3.The Song
A4.Mrs.Bitch
A5.Students From Marian Catholic High School
A6.Will You Still Love Me When You're Twenty-One
A7.To Anyone Who's Ever Laughed At Someone Else
B1.The Other Day
B2.SPQR Part 1 - I Wish That Fly Would Land So I Could Swat Him
B3.SPQR Part 2 - Sorry
B4.SPQR Part 3 - My Last Question
B5.SPQR Part 4 - Gosh, Darn, Golly Gee, or Those Canadians Can Sure Tell It Like It Is
B6.SPQR Part 5 - All American Girl
B7.SPQR Part 6 - Let Me Grow
C1.For Me, For You
C2.The New Testament, Or A Good Samaritan Will Never Jew You · Matthew: Love Means Never
Having To Say You're Happy
C3.The New Testament, Or A Good Samaritan Will Never Jew You · Mark: Jesus Was A Capricorn, But
Then So Am I
C4.The New Testament, Or A Good Samaritan Will Never Jew You · Luke: Morning Meditation
C5.The New Testament, Or A Good Samaritan Will Never Jew You · John: Mother Mary, Let Me Be
C6.The New Testament, Or A Good Samaritan Will Never Jew You · Fred: Post-Mortem Dirge
D1.Everyday People Revisited
D2.Filler Song
Out Of Here
D5.The Continuing Story Of A Square Peg In A Round Hole Part 3: Footnote To The Preceding Nineteen Songs, And Is It Really Necessary
D6.The Continuing Story Of A Square Peg In A Round Hole Part 4: I Hope I Always See You
Smiling
D7.The Continuing Story Of A Square Peg In A Round Hole Part 5: My Song
D3.The Continuing Story Of A Square Peg In A Round Hole Part 1: The Ballad Of Uthage
D4. The Continuing Story Of A Square Peg In A Round Hole Part 2: I Think It's Time For Me To Get