Suche:this other space

Belgian talent Ilario Liburni looks to the release of his debut LP, 'Travel So Far', forthcoming on his own label, Invade Records. The eight track affair comes on a double vinyl pack as well as digital form which will follow a month later and proves the man behind it to be a superb producer with plenty to say.

Combining elements of house, minimal and intricate sound design, Ilario also heads up the Cardinal label and first emerged back in 2011 on Monique Musique. Since then he has gone on to release on a number of respected imprints (including Riva Starr's Snatch! And Memoria Recordings), has had his tracks licensed to compilations including Noir's In the House album for Defected and has continued to make a big impression as a DJ around Europe.

The album kicks off with 'Travel So Far', a synthetic and stripped back groove with lots of squelchy sounds, scurrying synths and feathery percussive lines all working their way into your brain. 'Sudden' is another Ricardo Villalobos style track that is elongated, intricate and immersive as it unfolds on soft edged drums. Next up, 'Carrie' is a smooth, dubbed out affair that demonstrates plenty of restraint yet really locks you into its hypnotic groove as static hiss and crackles alongside distant synths colour the spaces left behind.

'Steampunked Sewing Machine' ups the ante a little with a hollowed out drum line rocking back and forth on its heels, and 'Can't Fool Data' starts all waify and minimalistic before getting pulled apart to the sound of whirring machines, and then it drops again; you can imagine dancefloors going wild to its hooky rhythms. 'Jenndrum' is all about the pinging drum kicks and globular toms that make for a peppery groove, 'Pherthothal' toys with a sense of abstract funk and closer 'Schwalbe' is a gloopy, gluey, druggy fusion of slurred synths, hiccupping drums and dark textures that make for involving listening.

This is a genuinely inventive album riddled with fascinating sounds,
a real attention to detail and plenty of otherworldly moods that really stick with you.

Twenty years ago, somewhere in Scotland, an album that was the missing link between The Black Dog, Chain Reaction and Irdial was released by an enigmatic Glasgow producer called Pub, on his equally mysterious label Ampoule.

The album ‘Do You Ever Regret Pantomime?’ (2000) has become the stuff of local folklore, a key work in the UK’s rich history of IDM and ambient, and one of the most celebrated albums of the early noughties. Bizarrely, it even infiltrated the Billboard Top 100.

‘Do You Ever Regret Pantomime?’ is also very much a key statement from a producer who has chosen to stay in their own space, where everyone is welcome. Records like these are about losing yourself in the sound and creating your own universe to explore.

Over the record's 70 minutes or so you’re instantly wrapped in a deep matrix of spacious chords, abstract textures and gently shifting rhythms.

The 2020 reissue has been re-mastered and cut at Berlin’s Dubplates & Mastering, pressed as a 2x12” and features new artwork and a bonus track.

This release also heralds the return of Ampoule, the Glasgow label which released music from the likes of Lucky & Easy, Omens Jot and Moped Endo among others. Forthcoming releases will be a mixture of new music and re-issues from the archives.

Hit the North is a DJs’ movement
Not a label. Not a revival. A discipline.

Over the years, the collective travelled across multiple states in the US and parts of the UK, digging deep into private collections, basements, garages, storage rooms and forgotten boxes.

They weren’t looking for classics.
They weren’t looking for hits.
They were looking for attempts.

Artists chasing something bigger than themselves.
Trying to sound like Motown.
Trying to sound like Detroit.
Trying to sound like the records that saved them.

Many of them dreamed — at best — of becoming a one hit wonder.
Most never got that far.

Some never crossed a state line.
Some never crossed the street at the end of their block.
Some never played outside their hometown.
Some never played at all.

What they left behind were fragments.

Raw versions.
Unfinished recordings.
Alternate takes.
Rejected mixes.
Test pressings.
Acetates passed quietly from hand to hand.

Sometimes with real credits.
Sometimes with fake ones.
Sometimes with handwritten labels leading nowhere.
Titles that didn’t match the music.
Stories that changed every time you asked.

Often, the trail simply disappeared.

What remained was intention.

Energy.
Urgency.
Hope pressed into sound.

So the collective worked on it.

They edited certain parts.
Extended others.
Cut what didn’t serve the floor.

Not to modernise.
Not to rewrite history.
But to unlock the power that was already there.

The result sounds like Northern Soul pushed to its breaking point.
Fast. Physical. Emotional.
Built for movement.

Some circulated privately.
Others were never pressed at all.

Recorded in personal studios, borrowed studios, friends’ rooms, temporary spaces.
Always outside the system.

This is not nostalgia.
This is unfinished business.

The new recordings from The Dengie Hundred unfurl on Tain Records after a busy year releasing a solo tape on Sagome and a collaborative LP and tape with Japan Blues on Demdike Stare's DDS imprint.

Lammas Land is an album which meditates on the Walthamstow Marshes, an ever-changing watery landscape, rich with history and wildlife. The Dengie Hundred writes:

"I am sitting at my table overlooking the marshes listening to Lammas Land in November 2023, watching crows fight a never-ending aerial battle with the gulls. In summer, you can see bats from here every evening, fluttering around the windows as the light begins to fade, but today it is colder so there is smoke rising from the boats on the River Lea and the dog walkers are wrapped up tight against the wind.
Most of Lammas Land was made sitting right here, playing guitar and recording the sounds passing by. I would hang a microphone out of the window to capture the ‘putput’ boat which delivers provisions, or the trains that rattle along the tracks that cut across the marshes and up to Stanstead, carrying passengers to the airport and away.
I wonder what tourists make of the marshes as they cross them, the landscape opening up for a moment between the urban sprawl of the East End and the rampant development of Tottenham. They offer a jarring pause of green and sky. I feel very lucky to be living in that pause, a resident, for now…

The album contains a whole year of found sounds recorded from the window and while out walking. It is full of bird song and radio sounds, singing, life.

Many others have been inspired by this space, this pause. The author Esther Kinsky who wrote River, published by Fitzcarraldo Editions, captures this area so perfectly. I borrowed the two track names for this album from her book. I hope she doesn’t mind.

Also, the photographer Paul Fuller whose work reflects the atmosphere I feel here precisely. On hearing the music he wanted to collaborate on the Lammas Land project, He spent a year filming the marsh through the seasons. Some of his images are included with the vinyl release, and there is an accompanying film close to completion. I am so pleased this project is continuing in new forms.

The vinyl also contains a piece of writing, ‘Sound Fishing’, by Gemma Blackshaw, an author, art historian and curator who in a twist of fate also found herself spending time on the marshes, but that is her story, for another day."




The Dengie Hundred
Lammas Land
LP, with essay insert + five photographic prints
Cat No: TAIN02
Price: £14.49
Due next week

A: A hand full of ever thickening twilight
(Sample clips 1 / 2 / 3)

B: A string of pearls pulling
the night away
(Sample clips 1 / 2 / 3)

Shooting Daggers are a band that never seems to stop. Sal, Bea and Raquel are one of the hardest working outfits out there, constantly playing shows and lending their support to myriad causes all around the U.K. and Europe. So, it’s always an exciting prospect when the band takes some time out from the maelstrom to write and record new material. And 2 years on from the release of their acclaimed debut album ‘Love & Rage’ the band have been in Bear Bites Horse Studio with Wayne Adams (Big Lad, Green Lung) at the controls to come up with the goods once again. ‘The Real Life Thing’ is the latest hardcore sonic missive from one of London’s must-see bands, and it absolutely does not disappoint. Shooting Daggers are the real deal; the best, and most exciting and adventurous hardcore-inspired band in the country. A ‘mini album‘. 7 songs and 20 minutes of driving rocket fuelled punk meets melody picking up from their debut to go further into their own space. A selection of songs that are marked by a fierce energy, variety and cool musical nous, but always with a message firmly at its core. The band says … ‘It's a crucial time to focus on what really matters. Be present, be aware of real things happening in the world, with integrity and love we can make a difference as a community. There is hope out there, and if we all start treating nature, people and animals with respect and empathy we will be able to become better humans and coexist. In this mini album, we express the full range of our emotions through various sounds and genres. From cheerfulness to anger and hopefulness.

From hardcore punk, to shoegaze, to post hardcore and riot grrrl. We embrace our authentic self, with sensitivity in response to injustice, we act out, and all the while savouring every moment, being unapologetically yourself, empowering ourselves and each other’. With the help of some very special guests in the form of ‘The Menstrual Cramps' and Dennis Lyxzén from Refused, that message is driven home ‘big time’. ‘Adrenaline’ is as full on and heavy as Daggers have ever been, all buzzsaw riffs and rousing vocals, it’s a smart and catchy punch in the face to kick off proceedings. ‘My Oh My’ sweetens the vibe if only a bit with its layered post shoegaze guitars and anthemic vocals, exquisitely arranged we may add. It really shows how Daggers have taken the 90’s elements from Love & Rage and expanded it into something all their own. ‘T.R.L.T.’ back to ‘in yer face’ Daggers trademark off kilter punk, chants, fast bit, slow bits all straight into your head. ‘We just Wanna Play’ is, as Daggers put it ... ‘Empowering playground song for girls and queers to sing and play’. The perfect intro to … ‘Loud Mouths’ the first track to feature bestie guesties ‘The Menstrual Cramps’. A riotous call to arms. We are united with our sisters and queer folks in punk and hardcore, queercore is strong and more alive than ever. Together we will denounce problematic behaviours unapologetically, we won't shut up. Things must change and it’s happening when problems are pointed out and sorted. The scene is for everybody, and we are making it happen’. ‘Le Soleil’ is another step forward … a left field, almost dubby vibe with a dreamy melodic swirling vocal performance from Sal.

When Daggers decide to step outside the box, they do it seductively in style. ‘Glow’ is the second collaboration; this one featuring Dennis Lyxzén from Refused on dual vocal duties. A no brainer it seems … ‘Refused has been a band that never wanted to fit in with a specific sound, they are pioneers of experimental punk while still being rooted in hardcore. They believe in what we believe in, antifascism, veganism, social justice and Dennis on stage is anything but a generic hardcore singer’. It’s a celebration. It’s fuzzy, it's hooky and it’s heavy with, dare we say it, a bit of My Bloody Valentine in there too, generic hardcore it is not. And that pretty much sums up ‘The Real Life Thing’. This album and this band are anything but ‘generic’. They never stand still and continue to push the boundaries of what is ‘hardcore’ or ‘punk’ or whatever people think they are. T.R.L.T. is a delight and a surprise from start to finish, refreshing, abrasive, melodic and with a true beating heart. Embrace it.

Following their 2023 LP Presents, Nathan Nelson's American Cream Band bring the Twin City heat back to Quindi with an album rooted in duality. From the yin and yang party-starting A side and meditative B side to the dual-attack boy-girl vocals, the nature of opposites and equals steer the expansive, artful strain of rock n' roll that spill out of this wholly unique Minnesotan export. For the ever intriguing Quindi, it's a strident step into Spring after the frosty introspection of Roudi Vagou & Läuten der Seele's Taghelle Nacht. While the world burns and injustice prevails, Twin is a celebration of unity and radical expression-all the more urgent against the backdrop of authoritarian overreach and righteous protest that has whipped through Minneapolis in recent times.
Twin continues Nelson's drive at the helm of American Cream Band to draw in a colourful cast of players to feed into his orgiastic sound, meshing the trance-induction of krautrock with the irrepressible funk of the post-punk-new-wave explosion. But principal among the cast of characters and forming a central tenet to the identity of this album is Liz Buhmann, lead vocalist and a formidable, playful foil to Nelson's own Midwestern twang. Around the electric spark between Buhmann and Nelson, a heavy duty ensemble wrangle guitar, bass, sax, a cornucopia of synths and a battery of percussion into all manner of sonic forms.
The double-sided concept manifests throughout Twin. On 'Call Me' Buhmann sings in French to contrast Nelson's English, while the strident strut of the NYC disco groove is offset by an inherent dreaminess that turns the track into a more cosmic kind of dancefloor workout. 'Ethical Vampire' is a spiky cut with a garage rock patina that spirals into a psychedelic, synth-soaked get-down. 'Don't Burn The House Down' is a loose and limber roller that captures Can at their funkiest along with the hypnotic vibe of other such esteemed long format jammers, but American Cream Band boils that energy into a hook-laden art pop sensibility before a gentle, drawn out landing.
Even the more pensive moments on Twin find space for friction. For all its tender, smoky temperament, 'Leda and the Swan' lets the electric piano and guitar fray at the edges and bleed into the red while Mat Heinrich's tumbling drums lurch with pent-up intensity on the one. 'No Funeral Necessary' skirts around the mellow pools of new age but prefers to let liberally doused Tape Echo tweak out Alex Meffert's honeyed sax inflections and Buhmann and Nelson's disparate sermons.
Nelson describes Twin as "an oppositorum coincidentia" - a reference to the mystical Latin concept of the coincidence of opposites that suggests contradictory ideas 'fall together' in a higher reality. Beyond the sound of the album, this idea also manifests in the cover photography by Sho Nikado and the swans on the LP labels by Autumn Garrington. As freewheeling and wide-open as American Cream Band feels, nothing appears by accident. The end result feels like a nourishing whole - rich with substance and nuance, deep enough to be explored and absorbed yet also so brazen and immediate you can't help but feel its surface charms from the first thrusts of 'The Hive Is Pissed' to the last ripples of 'We're Not So Sinister'.

Every so often in music, we come across voices that achieve a certain timelessness, so naturally do they encapsulate both past and present. Laure Briard is one of these voices, retro in form but contemporary at heart, spanning a career rich in aesthetic twists and turns, never without her signature magic, a special kind of eternal filter. Her first album, Révélation (2015), reveals her yé-yé influences, a testament to her love for ‘60s French pop music. Her second studio album, Sur la piste de danse (2016), follows in this vein and finds Laure accompanied as always by her long-time bandmates who share an affinity for warm, catchy arrangements that never lose their appeal. Her tour of Brazil marks a turning point in her career, introducing her to the local indie scene and thus launching her collaboration with the band Boogarins, as well as inspiring the release of multiple EPs composed and performed in Portuguese. Today, her music is embellished by touches of bossa nova and a folk sensibility, boasting increasingly intricate arrangements, as exemplified by her 2019 release, Un peu plus d'amour s'il vous plaît. Several years later, the Californian desert captures the musician’s imagination with Ne pas trop rester bleue, a poignant musical journey inspired by the rich history of Western legends and the role they play in shaping our collective consciousness.

In Voyage Mental, Laure Briard draws upon an inner energy unearthed during a new stage in her life, where the thrill of spontaneous adventure is not accessible in quite the same way. The result is a collection of sophisticated, introspective songs, narrating a young mother’s quest for balance in the face of routine. The album, nostalgic but always tethered to the present moment, is also the fruit of her collaboration with Gaëtan Nonchalant, a talented musician known for coaxing poetry out of the mundane. The two of them co-wrote and recorded five tracks at Studio Nocturne, accompanied by her long-time sidekick Pieuvre, aka Vincent Guyot, Léo Blomov, Pierre-Louis Vizioz, and Hedi Bensalem. The gentle pop opener “Rocking Chair” sways steadily to the rhythm of dynamic drums, followed by “Train,” a ballad that extends an invitation to set sail and daydream alone. The folk escapade continues with “Golden Sun,” a duet featuring the 1960s cult American musician F.J. McMahon, who Laure contacted via the internet on a whim. “Golden Sun” is an unlikely encounter between two generations and two cultures, giving new life to an old forgotten demo on the other side of the Atlantic. And while Laure sings of wide open spaces, cowboys, and sunsets sinking into the sea, we feel the city surrounding her in “Miroir,” a song composed by Hedi Bensalem that laments the suffocation of living in a crowded metropolis where the sky is a distant gray smudge. This pressing need for air, this search for rest and total disconnection, is one of the album's central themes. It may also explain the ever-present sense of nostalgia that pervades the songs, a welcome respite in our current era of doomscrolling and darkness. Along the way, Laure soothes us with melancholy guitar, delivers poetry set to scattered piano notes, and takes us by the hand during lively, uptempo passages. We climb onto her wings, never straying too far from the ground, soaring joyfully above her moods.

The Flaming Sideburns' debut album remastered 25th anniversary edition out in June via Svart Records In the beginning of the new Millennium, The Flaming Sideburns were getting ready to record our first proper album. First we rented Ismo Alanko’s old rehearsal room in Otaniemi, Espoo, and turned it into a recording facility. Old analog tape recorders, vintage microphones, a Space Echo unit, and other top equipment were brought in directly from Berlin, Germany by the album’s producer, Jürgen Hendlmeier. As producer Jürgen Hendlmeier recalls the final steps of the sessions: “Fact is, when we mastered the record at Seawolf Studios we had no real idea what to do with this equipment. We just wanted to make it louder and louder – that was all we wanted. We wanted to go to twelve instead of eleven.” When Hallelujah Rock’n’Rollah was first released, it did not sound as “natural” as it had originally been planned to be – but the album was a huge success for the band nevertheless. For this remastered edition, Hendlmeier dug deep enough to finally find the files containing all the original mixes. The album’s producer then remastered the album himself, and the end result is far more convincing. Compared to the original version—which is already very good—the album now feels as if it has been completely remixed for the better. As a bonus, on the original album some of the songs were edited shorter, but now all of them appear in their original length. -Eduardo Martinez

The Flaming Sideburns' debut album remastered 25th anniversary edition out in June via Svart Records In the beginning of the new Millennium, The Flaming Sideburns were getting ready to record our first proper album. First we rented Ismo Alanko’s old rehearsal room in Otaniemi, Espoo, and turned it into a recording facility. Old analog tape recorders, vintage microphones, a Space Echo unit, and other top equipment were brought in directly from Berlin, Germany by the album’s producer, Jürgen Hendlmeier. As producer Jürgen Hendlmeier recalls the final steps of the sessions: “Fact is, when we mastered the record at Seawolf Studios we had no real idea what to do with this equipment. We just wanted to make it louder and louder – that was all we wanted. We wanted to go to twelve instead of eleven.” When Hallelujah Rock’n’Rollah was first released, it did not sound as “natural” as it had originally been planned to be – but the album was a huge success for the band nevertheless. For this remastered edition, Hendlmeier dug deep enough to finally find the files containing all the original mixes. The album’s producer then remastered the album himself, and the end result is far more convincing. Compared to the original version—which is already very good—the album now feels as if it has been completely remixed for the better. As a bonus, on the original album some of the songs were edited shorter, but now all of them appear in their original length. -Eduardo Martinez

Next in the We’re Going Deep label series, he welcomes 4 tracks of completely fresh material from a relatively unknown Italian producer, Davide Tonini. Hailing from the much fabled Adriatic coastal party town of Rimini in Italy, Davide has been shaping and sculpting Electronic sounds for well over 3 decades now. Having first started releasing music under his ‘Wet Basement’ alias back in 2015, his sonic palette traverses IDM, Techno, Deep House, Acid and Ambient soundscapes.

Having spent decades honing his practice, he has both self-released his music and worked with the long standing Odrex Music in Berlin. And there’s something deeply irresistible about his output that screams class and quiet dedication. In his own words, in around 2005 he got into the world of Eurorack and a few years later, Serge Modular. Since then, he’s been totally hooked...

In more recent times, Davide has recorded and released 2 digital LPs worth of material for ‘Detroit Underground’ under his own name, so it seems fitting that We’re Going Deep are now hosting a debut 12” cut – offering up 4 cuts of trademark sumptuousness. Bringing together the best of influences that touch on the likes of Aril Brikha, David Alvarado, Deepchord, Convextion and Basic Channel, he weaves together their respective magic to a new whole point of inflection that is both of this world and the other. All tinged with a warmth and smile that could only originate in Mediterranean climes.

The aptly named ‘A-1’ kick starts the EP in fine fashion as shimmering chords cut through rays of floatingly filtered synthesis, all beautifully dubbed out to a steady rolling kick and neatly shuffled high-hats, with precision bass notes interjecting to add an additional layer of funk. With bliss set to maximum, this is nothing short of genius. Followed by ‘Bilateral’, Davide offers a touch more space and lets the bottom end lead, whilst neatly filtered chords flicker to and fro - seeping their way into your consciousness as the tight drum work brings you to groove mode.

On the reverse, ‘Drive’ burrows further into emotive depths as Davide bathes you in layers of dub and twinkling melodics, all passed through a hazy film of goodness. Rounding off the EP with the deft touch of Distanze Logaritmiche – a soft roller that steeps you in undulating chords and cavernous effects. This is high class music that deserves patience and your attention to reap the ultimate rewards from a true master of his craft.

Maybe it was inevitable that Vilhelm Bromander and Fredrik Rasten would find each other. A symbiotic musical alliance of suggestive combinatory magic that stretches back to the interstitial two day space that separates their dates of birth and manifests here as the movement between ‘perfect’ or ‘just’ intonation and the ragged, psychoactive energy of the slippages from and towards that togetherness that render otherwise simple patterns or generally understood repetitions as wildly other and alive.

Astral Twins shares ‘twin’ works by each composer. The patiently unfolding real time retuning of Fredrik Rasten’s guitars on the a-side’s Sojourns and Vilhelm Bromander’s quickened steps and spry looping melodies on the flip’s Partially Dancing.

Both artists have history of going deep into the aesthetic and acoustic impact of intonation (how you think about what is ‘in tune’). Where their first LP (...for some reason that escapes us, 2019, Differ Records) shared a gorgeous set of sustained tone colour fields, this time they lean more explicitly into the folk music traditions of Scandinavia and further afield, whilst echoing the zoned minimalist atmosphere of Arthur Russell’s classic Instrumentals.

Recorded up close and in real time at Fylkingen’s soon-to-be-abandoned temporary location in Stockholm’s southern suburb of Bredäng, Astral Twins sings with the possibility that one plus one can equal more than two.

Fredrik Rasten:
 Sojourns explores the live retuning of guitar and double bass in a sequence of just intonation harmonies. A guitar ostinato runs throughout the piece where the retuning becomes an integral part of the composition. The slow pace reveals every detail in the transition from one harmonic arpeggio to another — how interfering waves emerge and disappear as the tonal interactions settle in electric clarity. The double bass shadows the guitar's process and comments with occasional pizzicato tones and register jumps, at times providing a low foundation for the sound and sometimes soaring together with the guitar. This is music that is deeply listening; experimental and at the same time humbly inviting many kinds of being with sound.

Vilhelm Bromander: 
As the title suggests, this song has a partially dancing character. The title also has a double meaning with reference to the partials and harmonics that dance together. The basic idea was to write music in just intonation that instead of being drone-based is reminiscent of a lightly dancing folk music, where the joyous feeling of just being in the music — “musicking" — is allowed to lead the way.

The double bass plays repeated overtone double stops in an open harmonic progression with subtle modulations that is inspired in equal parts by Steve Lacy's persistent repetition of phrases as east-asian khaen music. The guitars and mandolin have a freer role, with plucked retuned strings that enhance the bass's modulations and provide forward movement. The music invites to both melodic and spectral listening, suddenly halting so that other focal points can reveal themselves. For example, a chord sequence suddenly transitions to a more spectral part where Fredrik is playing a bowed guitar with a chain, several plucking guitars, voices, and pitch pipes. I wanted to make something ‘orchestral’ with just two people and no overdubs: a dance of overtones and open resonant strings, where we seamlessly take turns standing in the foreground.

Colombian Drone Mafia's second album is a story of collective becoming: SueNo en Flor distils a year-long residency at London's Space Talk into music that moves like organic matter as field recordings, abstracted rhythms and distant infrastructures intertwine seamlessly. Where their debut Memoria confronted, this expands and transforms with a sound that is quieter, more patient, and more profound. Contributions from DJ Python, Ayu, Tristan Arp, Maria Velez Gallo and Gibrana Cervantes all add up to a porous, fluid whole that shifts through blurry pads, painterly synths and hazy textures designed for mental catharisis and full body submersion. The accompanying 24-page publication with texts from Philip Sherburne, Raime and Felicia Atkinson, among others, makes this an even classier release.

BABY BLUE COLOUR VINYL

The Beths occupy a warm, energetic sonic space between joyful hooks, sun-soaked harmonies, and acerbic lyrics. Their debut album Future Me Hates Me, forthcoming on Carpark Records, delivers an astonishment of roadtrip-ready pleasures, each song hitting your ears with an exhilarating endorphin rush like the first time you heard Slanted and Enchanted or 'Cannonball.'

Front and center on these ten infectious tracks is lead singer and primary songwriter Elizabeth Stokes. Stokes has previously worked in other genres within Auckland's rich and varied music scene, recently playing in a folk outfit, but it was in exploring the angst-ridden sounds of her youth that she found her place. 'Fronting this kind of band was a new experience for me,' says Stokes. 'I never thought I had the right voice for it.'

From the irresistible title track to future singles 'Happy Unhappy' and 'You Wouldn't Like Me,' Stokes commands a vocal range that spans from the brash confidence of Joan Jett to the disarming vulnerability of Jenny Lewis. Further honeying Future Me Hates Me's dark lyrics that explore complex topics like being newly alone and the self-defeating anticipation of impending regret, ecstatic vocal harmonies bubble up like in the greatest pop and R+B of the '60s, while inverting the trope of the 'sad dude singer accompanied by a homogenous girl-sound.'

All four members of The Beths studied jazz at university, resulting in a toolkit of deft instrumental chops and tricked-out arrangements that operate on a level rarely found in guitar-pop. Beths guitarist and studio guru Jonathan Pearce (whose other acts as producer include recent Captured Tracks signing Wax Chattels) brings it all home with an approach that's equal parts seasoned perfectionist and D.I.Y.

'There's a lot of sad sincerity in the lyrics,' she continues, 'that relies on the music having a light heart and sense of humor to keep it from being too earnest.' Channeling their stew of personal-canon heroes while drawing inspiration from contemporaries like Alvvays and Courtney Barnett, The Beths serve up deeply emotional lyrics packaged within heavenly sounds that delight in probing the limits of the pop form. 'That's another New Zealand thing,' Stokes concludes with a laugh. 'We're putting our hearts on our sleeves—and then apologizing for it.'

2023 Backstock

New album of one of the biggest Reggae/Dub french soundsystem starring MacGyver, Rooty Step & Pupajim (who worked with Alpha Steppa, Biga Ranx, High Tone, Mungo's Hi-Fi ...).

Since their inception at start of the 2000s, Stand High Patrol have rocked sound systems to their own riddim, assimilating and re-purposing the codes of the genre in their own unique style. From tiny bars in Brittany to huge festival stages, on independent radio or across national airwaves, the crew have quietly trod their own path, never compromising their core value of independence. Connoisseurs have long recognised Stand High’s credentials both as a dub group and a leading sound system, but they stand out from the crowd because of their ability to deliver the unexpected, whether live or on record. Their ability to draw such a diverse audience is testament to this atypical approach to making music.

In 2020, almost 20 years since their humble beginnings, the collective presents their fifth album, “Our Own Way”. As with their first two albums “Midnight Walkers” and “Matter Of Scale”, now considered as classics in their genre, this new opus asserts itself as the latest representation of the crew’s versatile approach to crafting sound. Their music, a blend of its own known as “Dubadub”, has always borrowed influences from multiple sources, and over the course of their career their roots in dub and reggae have intertwined with hip-hop, jazz, new wave, trip-hop and numerous other genres. The ‘Dubadub Musketeers’ have never ceased experimenting, forever seeking to increase the sonic territory they cover, day after day. Both live and recorded, they’ve made it a point of honour to never offer up the same thing twice. Any resemblance that “Our Own Way” might bear to those first two albums is a consequence of this obvious creative continuity, rather than of going “back to basics”.

In contrast to the last two Stand High Patrol records, the hip-hop inspired “The Shift”, or the Bristol indebted “Summer On Mars”, “Our Own Way” doesn’t have a unifying concept or theme. Rather than being limited to a single aesthetic, the LP pays respect to the entire canon of Jamaican music, all unified under Stand High’s inimitable production values. With the wealth of experience gained during the recording of their last two records, the collective decided to aim for a freer project, letting themselves be guided by their own music and their own instincts. The end result is a musical portrait of what Stand High Patrol is in the present moment.

The tracks that make up the new LP burst out of the studio, each born out of unbridled, impulsive creativity. Previously unheard compositions and specially re-tooled dub plates have been assembled into a tracklist that shifts and moves like a classic Dubadub Musketeer live set. Each step of the process has been refined by years of practice : composition, effects, and the final mix. Throughout “On Our Way”, the brutal dub stepper, though still a favourite for sound system sessions, is noticeable by its absence. Instead, it’s the full weight of the crew’s reggae heritage that’s expressed in the mix. It's not just the depth and weight of each tune that strikes the listener, but also the spaces heard between the notes that grab and hold their attention.. The sense of a trip, whether musical, internal or geographic, is omnipresent throughout the LP, linking each track to those before and after. “Our Own Way” finds Stand High Patrol exploring as usual, yet also narrating their journey as they’ve rarely done before.

Somewhere close to Manchester’s ever changing city centre, as the sun fades and peeks through the newest glass facade, you’ll find Shaking Hand. One part in shadow, the other basking in prisms of light as they sketch out their own sonic landscapes in the dusty redbrick mill they call home. One that is just about clinging on from the encroaching developments that surround them.

Against this back-drop where buildings are constantly torn down & built back again, the three piece craft away. Pulling from early post-rock, and 90s US alternative rock, crafting their own brand of Northwest-emo. Assembling something new, yet nostalgic. Looking ahead towards the transforming horizon. Shaking Hand’s music is built on tension and release – quiets that stretch, louds that overwhelm. Repetition that feels both hypnotic and destabilising.

The band’s musical DNA runs through experimental guitar outfits like Women, Slint, Sonic Youth, Pavement, and Ulrika Spacek, balanced with the melodic sensibility of Big Thief and the dynamic intimacy of Yo La Tengo. Their compositions push against structure: sudden jolts of tempo, polyrhythms that almost fall apart, and riffs that unravel into something fragile or ecstatic. Yet, as Ellis notes, there’s an underlying warmth too: “Like walking through an empty city late at night but catching flickers of life in the buildings you pass.”

Early ideas like ‘Night Owl’ and ‘Sundance’ grew out of George’s lockdown “bedroom years,” where new tunings (open E, drop D, and stranger Pavement-inspired set-ups) opened up uncharted textures. Later, in grim rehearsal rooms, the murky epic ‘Cable Ties’ and the hypnotic ‘Mantras’ absorbed the gloom and grit of the band’s surroundings.

The album was recorded with producer David Pye (Wild Beasts, Teenage Fanclub) at Nave Studios in Leeds, housed in a converted church. “The live room was huge and perfect for capturing our sound,” says George. Determined to bottle their onstage energy, the band tracked the foundations live, layering vocals and guitars later. Soviet-era microphones, odd mic placements, and even phone-recorded demos fed into the mix. “You’ve got to watch out for David though,” Freddie laughs. “He made me play four tambourines in one hand, really hurt, man.”

Lyrically, the record drifts between abstraction and lived moments. George’s words often spill out instinctively, words falling into place before their meaning becomes clear. “A lot of the lyrics look like they’re buried in abstraction,” he says, “but when I look back I can see what they were about — whether that’s an emotional response at the time or just an observation of what was happening around me”. There’s contrast at the heart of it all – optimism vs. doubt, the lightness of youth vs. the monotony of work, a city in constant redevelopment vs. the people drifting through it.

The album artwork is taken from unused plans for the 1970s redevelopment of Los Angeles by architect Ray Kappe, entitled ‘People Movers’. Hypothetical buildings for real people, it feels a complement to the band’s own constructions. One thing’s for sure, Shaking Hand’s debut is built to last.

BLUE & WHITE COLOUR IN COLOUR VINYL

In the culinary arts, it’s easy to overcomplicate the final product. Theme, presentation, texture…they’re important but should work to complement the raison d'etre of any food. At the end of cooking a dish, it should taste good and feed people. Some dishes, like barbeque or provoleta, resist the tendency towards hollow showmanship. One of their expressions can be more or less aesthetic, but the first purpose is to be simple and tasteful. Argentinian provoleta goes so far as to blur the line between ingredient and dish. It relies on the inherent flavor of provolone being heated at the right speed for the perfect amount of time. You can add garlic or chives or red pepper to the slice, but ultimately they serve to bring out an essence that’s already there.

Los Angeles’ Cousin Feo has developed his rapping acumen in the five years since releasing Provoleta, but returning to the project today shows that he always had the penmanship, grit and delivery that christens an emcee worthy of remembrance. Like the bubbles rising up in the appetizer that is the album’s namesake, Feo showed that true profundity is found in the simple gestures.

Since dropping the project in 2019, Cousin Feo has expanded his vision of a world where hip-hop and football, two proletarian art forms, mingle in creative and compelling ways. He has collaborated across multiple continents, chronicled football histories, aided in canonizing legends, kept the flames high in age-old rivalries and constantly forced his audience to search for the last time they heard bars this hard. In anyone else’s hands it would be too great a task.

The maturity he showed on Provoleta wasn’t nascent, it was an inherent quality forcing itself to the surface. The songs refract his experience as a working class Angeleno through the archetypes of Argentinian football legends. The kernel that unites the two worlds is hustle. When Feo was coming up, missteps had greater consequences than crashing out in the group stage and street deals had the weight of a Boca-River Plate match.

Each track uses slightly different ingredients to let Feo’s underlying talent shine. “Maradona” feels salvific, fitting for a football legend canonized from the Andes to the Alps and a Los Angeles rapper looking to inspire similar hope in the neighborhoods that raised him. On “Di Stefano” Feo massages the instrumental with the same composure of the late forward, until he pierces through the headphones like one of Di Stefano’s arrows. It’s also refreshing to hear a song celebrating Messi before his meme-ification, focusing on the universal truths contained in his footballing talent instead of using number 10 as a stand-in to make a point in a fruitless argument. And he still finds space to show deference to Batistuta, Kempes and other members of the Argentinian pantheon who’ve been erased from the popular imagination by the national team's contemporary success.

Real ones know that true players, true rappers, and true artists will always stand the attacks of time and consensus. In Provoleta’s first verse, Cousin Feo says he moves with the hand of God. Maybe one day he’ll tell the whole truth and let us know how he was able to wrestle the pen away too. Limited edition of 300 hand-numbered copies.

Toronto’s Ducks Ltd. (formerly Ducks Unlimited), the bright jangle-pop duo of Tom McGreevy (lead vocal, guitar, bass, keyboards) and Evan Lewis (guitar, bass, drum programming), accomplish the impossible. The pair craft songs that play to very specific inspirations without drowning underneath them—immediately evidenced on their critically acclaimed EP, Get Bleak, and sharpened on Modern Fiction, their debut LP. “The Servants, The Clean, The Chills, The Bats, Television Personalities, Felt,” Evan rattles off. “Look Blue Go Purple is one I reference a lot with our production.” Echoes of ‘80s indiepop abound, but they never overwhelm. This is not a nostalgic record, after all, nor is it a derivative one. Instead, across 10 cheery-sounding songs, Ducks Ltd. explore contemporary society in decline, examining large scale human disaster through personal turmoil (hence the title, taken from a university course called Gnosticism and Nihilism in Modern Fiction, influenced by Graham Greene novels. Bookish indie fans, look no further.)

Writing the album was intimate. Tom drafted the nucleus of a song on an unplugged electric guitar and brought it over to Evan’s apartment, where the pair sat in his bedroom, placing percussive beats from a drum machine under nascent melodies, passing a bass back and forth, adding organs and bridges where necessary. “It’s computer music trying extremely hard not to sound like computer music,” Tom jokes. Fearful that limited and expensive studio time would kneecap the project creatively, eroding their charming naivete, the pair re-recorded the album in a storage space owned by Evan’s boss. Ornamentation through collaboration followed: there’s Aaron Goldstein on Pedal Steel in the Go-Betweens’ “Cattle and Cane”-channeling interlude “Patience Wearing Thin,” Eliza Niemi on cello (“18 Cigarettes,” a song loosely inspired by a 1997 Oasis performance of “Don’t Go Away”), and backing harmonies from Carpark labelmates The Beths (on an ode to friendship at a distance, “How Lonely Are You?,” “Always There,” and on the sped-up Syd Barrett stylings of “Under The Rolling Moon.”) While in his native Australia due to covid-19, Evan worked closely with producer James Cecil (The Goon Sax, Architecture in Helsinki) on Modern Fiction’s finishing touches—at one point, in the mountains of the Macedon Ranges in Victoria, recorded a string quartet (featured on “Fit to Burst,” “Always There,” “Sullen Leering Hope,” “Twere Ever Thus,” “Grand Final Day.”)

It’s danceable, depressive fun, with some relief: in “Always There” and “Sullen Leering Hope,” Modern Fiction’s faithful heart. “There’s a tendency in my writing, because of my world view, to be very bleak.” Tom explains. “A quality I don’t always see in myself and really appreciate in others is the courage to go on.” And yet, the record manages resiliency—enough for pop fans to fall in love with.

XDCVR_ unveils 'I HATE THAT SHIT, I HATE ALL THAT SHIT' a blistering sonic manifesto on the 'performativity of decay'.

In a world saturated with digital perfection, the album emerges as a vital, hand-made act of electronic rebellion.

Framed as a "soundtrack for the end stretch" the record explores the notion that societal decay is not a passive process, but an active performance—a machine chugging along long after its wheels have fallen off.

This is cyborg music for a bifurcated reality: carbon-fiber toughness shielding a core of systemic rot. The sound palette is intentionally raw and imperfect, a direct challenge to the sterile, automated order of what the artist calls the "techno-fascist oligarchy."

Tracks eschew conventional temporality, mirroring the feeling of existing in two concurrent timelines—one hyper-aware of the collapse, the other numbly consuming it.

Drawing a line from the Cold War anxieties of the past to the data-farming dystopia of the present, 'I HATE THAT SHIT…' posits art as the last authentic incubator for societal change. It is, in the artist's words, "a deliberate 'fuck you' to the oppressive order of the status quo. This is not easy listening; it is a contested space, a lit fuse, and a necessary noise for our complicated times."

Just as you were getting your head straight coming off the 21st Trip … Brown Acid dose # 22 drops, continuing to fry your mind in a revolving trap-door Twilight Zone alternate world of early hard rock… populated by real life characters so far out they can look like a cheesy wedding band but sound like Blue Cheer! Uncanny! This music comes at you from many angles. Teens in a garage colliding with booze, drugs and girls for the first time, lounge lizard hustlers with snazzy stage clothes and fuzz boxes… gnarly backwoods troublemakers meet blow dried glam rock wannabes here, seamlessly clobbering your head with sound rather than each other! An electric post-psychedelic bar brawl for your mind awaits, unfasten your seat belt, crank it up and fly! Sounds Synonymous "Babylon" out of Flint, Michigan 1969 rip the devastating Blue Cheer classic a new one, immediately swarming you with organ swells and distortion before collapsing into a tuff funk groove, a psychedelic James Brown vibe shot through with dirty howling fuzz guitar, vocals nailing the messed up but confident relaxed sneering attitude of the original Cheer eruption. The Bumps "Shining" from Seattle 1969 resides right at the transition of ‘60s psych into early prog, well constructed, no diluting things artsy fartsy style, a compelling heavy riff, spacious vocal harmony hook floating above a turbulent take on getting your shit together and shining like a star. Fat chance, but you can dream, the band did and their dreams kick ass across time to right now or you wouldn’t be here.

Coulda been a hit back then, definitely a hit now. Riverside "Farmer" explodes out of Austin, Texas 1974, economical but brilliantly structured riffs and power chords, intense dynamic tension/release, fantastic screaming leads over shifting angles of attack during the middle break… it’s all here with a detached confidence in the vocal that swaggers back in time to the late ‘60s in its proto-heavy psych adjacent assault. Cincinnati Joe & Mad Lydia "Get It Together" for real in Cincinnati, Ohio 1970. The song says everything you need to know: “You may think that you’re the very best, miles and miles ahead of the rest, but be sure when you’re put to the test you get it together!” These words are deployed in a manner similar to Peter Green’s “Oh Well”, intermittently stated between killer gnarly guitar and gushy organ attacks. Bar band heaven and hell rolled up into one big ball, the vocals get all the way out there! Straight Up "Fire" takes the monster 1968 Crazy World Of Arthur Brown hit into faithfully executed but surreally minimalist territory, Minneapolis, Minnesota 1974. Genius version of a key song that presciently cuts to the chase regarding Brown Acid’s incinerations of psychedelic idealism, you’re gonna burn, burn, burn… as that moment climaxes you can gawk at their preposterous flashy lounge band stage outfits and realize side one must end because everything is totally scorched into eternity. Scrap Iron "Poopsie" is a primitive two chord stomper with spiraling fuzz and organ riffs, singer marking his territory caveman style. “Poopsie, you’re my woman” he commands, but gets weirdly insecure she’ll blow him off at the altar by the end of each verse. Snarly wah-wah ices this toxic cake out of Carteret, New Jersey 1973. Focused delivery so single-mindedly crude it creates an inescapable instant brain-worm. Lady "Live Show Tigers" is amongst the most potently life affirming trash rockers you’ll ever hear, one outrageously triumphant but fiercely sloppy anthem about living it up like a star, strutting the stage glammed up New York Dolls drag style but with a Dictators sense of humor. Tasty slightly off kilter guitar leads all through, going serendipitously berserk on the fade. Picture disc single out of L.A. 1980. Fantastic fun rock star rock at a very raw local street level where any time is party time.

Killer Frog "Hard Times" on Masochist Records from Chicago, Illinois 1972 takes less than two minutes, an action packed James Gang style bar band rocker with a bit of punky sneer in the face of misfortune. These guys never even heard of flower power. They are killer frogs. Good Humore "Killer" does kill in stripped down hard rock trio style, Warren, Michigan 1976. No frills guitar, bass and drums groove tight, snaky primordial riff, snarly licks. “She’s a killer of a woman, knows just what she’s doing…” The singer knows she’s a femme-fatale roadhouse predator but she’s so hot the inevitable wreckage seems a bargain. Ride it out like the extended jam on the fade knowing she’ll be back for more! Sarawest "Space Rider" winds up the 22nd Trip lost in a twisted two chord space adventure from the point of view of an alien visiting our planet seeking knowledge but finding out we are stupidly destroying ourselves, so he gotta split sneering back at us like we wasted his time “I got no time for loving… I wanna be a space rider, space rider”. Toronto, Canada 1974, a vibe lurking in some strange but funny void between late ‘60s outsider garage psychedelic rock complete with reverb-y acid guitar leads and late ‘70s retro-futuristic D.I.Y wisecracking from inner space… taking the piss out of outer space!

Just as you were getting your head straight coming off the 21st Trip … Brown Acid dose # 22 drops, continuing to fry your mind in a revolving trap-door Twilight Zone alternate world of early hard rock… populated by real life characters so far out they can look like a cheesy wedding band but sound like Blue Cheer! Uncanny! This music comes at you from many angles. Teens in a garage colliding with booze, drugs and girls for the first time, lounge lizard hustlers with snazzy stage clothes and fuzz boxes… gnarly backwoods troublemakers meet blow dried glam rock wannabes here, seamlessly clobbering your head with sound rather than each other! An electric post-psychedelic bar brawl for your mind awaits, unfasten your seat belt, crank it up and fly! Sounds Synonymous "Babylon" out of Flint, Michigan 1969 rip the devastating Blue Cheer classic a new one, immediately swarming you with organ swells and distortion before collapsing into a tuff funk groove, a psychedelic James Brown vibe shot through with dirty howling fuzz guitar, vocals nailing the messed up but confident relaxed sneering attitude of the original Cheer eruption. The Bumps "Shining" from Seattle 1969 resides right at the transition of ‘60s psych into early prog, well constructed, no diluting things artsy fartsy style, a compelling heavy riff, spacious vocal harmony hook floating above a turbulent take on getting your shit together and shining like a star. Fat chance, but you can dream, the band did and their dreams kick ass across time to right now or you wouldn’t be here.

Coulda been a hit back then, definitely a hit now. Riverside "Farmer" explodes out of Austin, Texas 1974, economical but brilliantly structured riffs and power chords, intense dynamic tension/release, fantastic screaming leads over shifting angles of attack during the middle break… it’s all here with a detached confidence in the vocal that swaggers back in time to the late ‘60s in its proto-heavy psych adjacent assault. Cincinnati Joe & Mad Lydia "Get It Together" for real in Cincinnati, Ohio 1970. The song says everything you need to know: “You may think that you’re the very best, miles and miles ahead of the rest, but be sure when you’re put to the test you get it together!” These words are deployed in a manner similar to Peter Green’s “Oh Well”, intermittently stated between killer gnarly guitar and gushy organ attacks. Bar band heaven and hell rolled up into one big ball, the vocals get all the way out there! Straight Up "Fire" takes the monster 1968 Crazy World Of Arthur Brown hit into faithfully executed but surreally minimalist territory, Minneapolis, Minnesota 1974. Genius version of a key song that presciently cuts to the chase regarding Brown Acid’s incinerations of psychedelic idealism, you’re gonna burn, burn, burn… as that moment climaxes you can gawk at their preposterous flashy lounge band stage outfits and realize side one must end because everything is totally scorched into eternity. Scrap Iron "Poopsie" is a primitive two chord stomper with spiraling fuzz and organ riffs, singer marking his territory caveman style. “Poopsie, you’re my woman” he commands, but gets weirdly insecure she’ll blow him off at the altar by the end of each verse. Snarly wah-wah ices this toxic cake out of Carteret, New Jersey 1973. Focused delivery so single-mindedly crude it creates an inescapable instant brain-worm. Lady "Live Show Tigers" is amongst the most potently life affirming trash rockers you’ll ever hear, one outrageously triumphant but fiercely sloppy anthem about living it up like a star, strutting the stage glammed up New York Dolls drag style but with a Dictators sense of humor. Tasty slightly off kilter guitar leads all through, going serendipitously berserk on the fade. Picture disc single out of L.A. 1980. Fantastic fun rock star rock at a very raw local street level where any time is party time.

Killer Frog "Hard Times" on Masochist Records from Chicago, Illinois 1972 takes less than two minutes, an action packed James Gang style bar band rocker with a bit of punky sneer in the face of misfortune. These guys never even heard of flower power. They are killer frogs. Good Humore "Killer" does kill in stripped down hard rock trio style, Warren, Michigan 1976. No frills guitar, bass and drums groove tight, snaky primordial riff, snarly licks. “She’s a killer of a woman, knows just what she’s doing…” The singer knows she’s a femme-fatale roadhouse predator but she’s so hot the inevitable wreckage seems a bargain. Ride it out like the extended jam on the fade knowing she’ll be back for more! Sarawest "Space Rider" winds up the 22nd Trip lost in a twisted two chord space adventure from the point of view of an alien visiting our planet seeking knowledge but finding out we are stupidly destroying ourselves, so he gotta split sneering back at us like we wasted his time “I got no time for loving… I wanna be a space rider, space rider”. Toronto, Canada 1974, a vibe lurking in some strange but funny void between late ‘60s outsider garage psychedelic rock complete with reverb-y acid guitar leads and late ‘70s retro-futuristic D.I.Y wisecracking from inner space… taking the piss out of outer space!

A guitar stands alone in Wedding, that metropolitan biotope in the western center of Berlin, caught in constant transformation between idyll and abyss. It lets its gaze wander, unsettled, almost shy, until it encounters a trumpet, with which it begins a cautious, then ever more intimate pas de deux.
Welcome to the second studio album by the Berlin-based band Conic Rose.
The album title Wedding is no coincidence. The story of Conic Rose is closely intertwined with the Berlin neighborhood that gives the record its name. The band's studio is located here, and both studio albums were created in the immediate vicinity of the small river Panke. This place settles over the music like a warming patina. The album feels as though the musicians and the neighborhood have invited one another to get to know each other. Not least because Wedding also means marriage. These marriages between a band and an urban landscape, a fading past and an emerging future, fear and hope - unfold in every single song on Wedding.
For their second album, Conic Rose repositioned themselves completely. Not in terms of personnel, but in the question of how to move forward. Conic Rose still sound like Conic Rose; their distinctive blend of cinematic jazz, ambient textures and guitar-led contemporary music remains untouched. And yet Wedding is, in many ways, the conceptual counterpart to their debut album Heller Tag. Where the debut documented movement within an urban setting, Wedding describes a state of being. Behind every piece seems to hover a large question mark.The group opens up its palette, allowing more influences, becoming at once more subtle, more profound, more filigree. It is less about definition than about the spaces in between. The most immediately striking difference from the previous album is the strong presence of the guitar. In Bertram Burkert's playing, many voices seem to converge. His yearning openness forms an equal counterpoint to Döben's trumpet and flugelhorn. Blurred and layered sounds occasionally make the ground seem to slip away beneath one's feet, while Döben's gliding lines create both closeness and distance. Together, the band express in a deeply subtle way a sense of life that corresponds precisely to our time. Something lurks in the background, omnipresent yet still unnameable. Conic Rose need no words to convey this feeling of uncertainty with remarkable eloquence. Perhaps this has something to do with Wedding being a place of confrontational introspection, but Conic Rose confront the escape from escape itself. With the recording and release of Wedding, this process is far from complete. The seed only begins to grow in the listener's ear. With every listen and the echo it leaves behind in memory, the studio bud continues to bloom. The album is merely the point of departure. What ultimately matters is what it sets in motion within those who encounter it.

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Evergreen In Your Mind, the new and third album from Norwegian singer-songwriter Juni Habel, exists in two worlds at the same time. Songs were recorded in quiet corners of her home, on the piano in the school where she works, and it uses the physical world around her to provide percussion. It also takes place, as she herself attests, within a dream; an imagined place in which her desire for oneness with each other and the world around us is finally realised.

Evergreen In Your Mind was recorded with co-producer Stian Skaaden, it’s Habel’s first album in three-years, following the breakthrough success of 2023’s Carvings LP. Formed of eleven new recordings, the songs here remain delicate, Habel’s voice playing an elegant lead role – but there are fluctuations too.

These small shifts in Habel’s sound result in a notable stride forward. More focus went into the groove of these songs. Playfulness was embraced and, perhaps most importantly, patience played a fundamental role in shaping the album with time and care given to every element of these songs. “We always aim to capture effortlessness - but the way of getting there is anything but effortless,” Habel reveals.

This extra time that was given to the project gave Juni the space to nurture her creativity. She would read and listen to music, hike into the hills, place herself within nature and seek out stillness. Not as a deviation from her work but as a fundamental part of the process. It’s a search for connection, and it’s a recurring theme across Evergreen In Your Mind; the polarity between stillness and passion, also our resistance to these desires, and the things we want to live and experience.

The album’s title-track and fist single feels indicative of this narrative. A gorgeous, delicate folk song, it finds Habel out in the woods, hiding from real life, caught in the space between the natural world and the pull of modernity. “It’s nostalgic. It’s about looking back and realizing things will be different,” Habel says. “Its about visualizing something beautiful in your head that you keep clinging onto.”

The album cover for Evergreen In Your Mind also adds shimmer. A striking photograph of Juni among the mountains, it was taken on a day trip to Rondane, a five-hour drive each way from her home. Habel explains. “It was awe-inspiring to drive all the way up into the high mountains, with its wide plains and intense colours. For an album with music that at times likes to hide itself, I think it fitted nicely with such an epic, grand, and powerful landscape.”

"Fans of Nick Drake, Karen Dalton and Neil Young will find much to enjoy in this musical equivalent of an evening spent alone by the fireside.” The Times

Aspen is very proud to introduce ‘Non Sonett’ by the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble. This ensemble is a pioneering Norwegian chamber group whose work on ECM and Hubro has redefined the boundaries between jazz, contemporary composition and folk music.Across seven albums, the ensemble has developed a highly distinctive l anguage built on restraint, timbral nuance and collective interplay, placing it among the most influential European ensembles of the 21st century.

Bringing together some of the finest musicians in Norway, the ensemble draws on a rare collective sensitivity, where each player contributes to a deeply integrated and texturally rich sound world.

With Non Sonett, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble opens a new chapter that grows directly out of recent years of work in more solitary and cross-disciplinary contexts. In this period, Wallumrød has developed material for solo performance as well as for dance, allowing ideas to take shape in more fluid and exploratory formats. Some of this material now finds its way into the ensemble, where it is met by the possibilities offered by instrumentation, collective playing, and the distinct voices of the musicians. At the same time, older pieces—originating in entirely different settings— re-emerge here in new forms, reshaped by the ensemble context.

A defining aspect of Non Sonett is the way many of the pieces function less as fully determined compositions and more as open frameworks: starting points, suggestions, or “springboards” for music. These structures invite response rather than prescribe outcome, relying on the ensemble’s inherent sensitivity and capacity to realize and transform the material in performance. The result is music that feels both precise and fluid, shaped in equal measure by composition and by the interpretative presence of the players.

Central to this album is a continued deepening of Wallumrød’s long-standing interest in ambiguity and in dissolving boundaries between different musical elements and expressive worlds. By placing contrasting materials and associations side by side—sometimes subtly, sometimes more overtly—the music opens up spaces where meanings remain fluid and interconnected. On Non Sonett, this approach is taken a step further, allowing these juxtapositions to play an even more active role in shaping the music’s character and flow.

This approach connects closely with the ensemble’s broader artistic trajectory. Over time, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble has developed a language that is immediately recognizable—marked by reduction, clarity and a deep attention to sonic detail. While each release has its own character, the underlying aesthetic remains consistent: a focus on the inner life of sound itself. Rather than foregrounding gesture or virtuosity, the music draws the listener toward the smallest elements, where meaning emerges gradually through texture, spacing and timbre.

The listening experience becomes one of concentration and proximity, where each sound carries weight, and the accumulation of detail forms a larger whole. References may be sensed—to early polyphonic music, Norwegian folk traditions, or more recent experimental practices—but these are absorbed into a singular musical language that resists categorization.

As with the ensemble’s recent work, Non Sonett also continues the integration of electronics as a fundamental part of the sound world. Each musician engages with electronic elements alongside their acoustic instruments, creating a layered and dynamic sonic environment. At times, this leads into extended, exploratory passages reminiscent of analogue musique concrète; at others, electronics operate almost imperceptibly, subtly altering and extending the acoustic textures in real time.

Aspen is very proud to introduce ‘Non Sonett’ by the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble. This ensemble is a pioneering Norwegian chamber group whose work on ECM and Hubro has redefined the boundaries between jazz, contemporary composition and folk music.Across seven albums, the ensemble has developed a highly distinctive l anguage built on restraint, timbral nuance and collective interplay, placing it among the most influential European ensembles of the 21st century.

Bringing together some of the finest musicians in Norway, the ensemble draws on a rare collective sensitivity, where each player contributes to a deeply integrated and texturally rich sound world.

With Non Sonett, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble opens a new chapter that grows directly out of recent years of work in more solitary and cross-disciplinary contexts. In this period, Wallumrød has developed material for solo performance as well as for dance, allowing ideas to take shape in more fluid and exploratory formats. Some of this material now finds its way into the ensemble, where it is met by the possibilities offered by instrumentation, collective playing, and the distinct voices of the musicians. At the same time, older pieces—originating in entirely different settings— re-emerge here in new forms, reshaped by the ensemble context.

A defining aspect of Non Sonett is the way many of the pieces function less as fully determined compositions and more as open frameworks: starting points, suggestions, or “springboards” for music. These structures invite response rather than prescribe outcome, relying on the ensemble’s inherent sensitivity and capacity to realize and transform the material in performance. The result is music that feels both precise and fluid, shaped in equal measure by composition and by the interpretative presence of the players.

Central to this album is a continued deepening of Wallumrød’s long-standing interest in ambiguity and in dissolving boundaries between different musical elements and expressive worlds. By placing contrasting materials and associations side by side—sometimes subtly, sometimes more overtly—the music opens up spaces where meanings remain fluid and interconnected. On Non Sonett, this approach is taken a step further, allowing these juxtapositions to play an even more active role in shaping the music’s character and flow.

This approach connects closely with the ensemble’s broader artistic trajectory. Over time, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble has developed a language that is immediately recognizable—marked by reduction, clarity and a deep attention to sonic detail. While each release has its own character, the underlying aesthetic remains consistent: a focus on the inner life of sound itself. Rather than foregrounding gesture or virtuosity, the music draws the listener toward the smallest elements, where meaning emerges gradually through texture, spacing and timbre.

The listening experience becomes one of concentration and proximity, where each sound carries weight, and the accumulation of detail forms a larger whole. References may be sensed—to early polyphonic music, Norwegian folk traditions, or more recent experimental practices—but these are absorbed into a singular musical language that resists categorization.

As with the ensemble’s recent work, Non Sonett also continues the integration of electronics as a fundamental part of the sound world. Each musician engages with electronic elements alongside their acoustic instruments, creating a layered and dynamic sonic environment. At times, this leads into extended, exploratory passages reminiscent of analogue musique concrète; at others, electronics operate almost imperceptibly, subtly altering and extending the acoustic textures in real time.

In recent years, Midge Ure has spent his time playing live and not has time to fully immerse himself in the studios creating music To that end A Man of Two Worlds is his first album of new material in 12 years. Well worth the wait, the album is a formidable collection of outstanding music, divided into two clear parts.

The first half, World One: Music, consists of eight instrumental pieces, while the second half, World Two: Songs, features eight vocal songs. This concept was partly inspired by the time Midge spent during lockdown listening to instrumental music whilst presenting THE SPACE on Scala Radio. Hearing music that rarely finds a home on mainstream radio, he set about making something without lyrics, where the melodies had to speak for themselves. The eight vocal songs which form the second part of the album, came to Midge as the world reopened. A more divided world, in many ways a much harder and less empathetic one. Sharing an atmosphere with the preceding instrumentals, these songs are incredibly sparse and meditative, and whilst they are subtle, with some songs dealing with the frailty of the human condition, underlying many songs reflect Midge's concerns for the discord infecting world today.

A new EP by Extrawelt is always something special, as they continually manage to reinvent themselves while remaining unmistakably true to their sound. The a-side „Moonster“ of their latest record forms a subtle and almost magical bridge to early musical influences such as Immortal Coil, Chris & Cosey, The Cure, and Throbbing Gristle.
In doing so, they reclaim, or rather reintroduce, a powerful, mystical element into their music, one that is integrated so naturally it feels as if it has always been an essential part of Extrawelt’s sonic DNA. Beyond that, the track unfolds through numerous facets, constantly shifting and evolving. Just when you think it is settling into a familiar direction, small variations emerge, keeping the piece remarkably alive and unpredictable.
You can clearly sense how much fun Extrawelt had working on this track. It is bursting with ideas, energy, and vitality, radiating a playful confidence that makes it endlessly engaging.

The b1 track „Bettermaker“ takes a different route, dedicating itself entirely to a single mood. Through subtle pitch bending and a carefully shaped tonal palette, the track unfolds with a slightly eerie, enchanted atmosphere.
From beginning to end, „Bettermaker“ remains focused and unwavering. There are no breaks or dramatic shifts in direction, instead, the piece commits fully to its initial setting. A monolithic, almost mantra like motif forms the core, creating a distinctive ambience, mystical, shadowy and faintly oriental in character.
This atmosphere is carried and reinforced by percussive, ethno inspired drums, which add an organic, ritualistic pulse. The result is a hypnotic soundscape that draws its strength from consistency and depth rather than contrast, inviting the listener into a secluded, otherworldly space.

The final piece of the EP „Popcorn Forever“ reveals another side of Extrawelt’s thinking. The track unfolds like a curious experiment in motion. Instead of building toward a predictable climax, sounds are gradually tossed into an ever running loop fragments, textures and small rhythmic ideas appearing almost casually, as if the piece were assembling itself in real time.
At first the elements seem loosely connected, sometimes abstract, sometimes slightly mischievous in the way they twist and bend. It almost feels like an impossible construction task. But Extrawelt’s experience quietly guides the process. Bit by bit the scattered parts begin to communicate with each other.
Repetition becomes the hidden engine. With every return of the loop new details slip into the structure, and what once appeared random slowly starts forming relationships inside the listener’s mind. The track never forces a clear explanation, yet the brain begins to tie the loose ends together almost automatically.
Popcorn Forever therefore works beautifully as a kind of transit piece within the EP. It moves between ideas, linking moods rather than closing them off. In typical Extrawelt fashion, the result is playful, slightly surreal and full of subtle discoveries that reveal themselves over time.

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

After months of working exclusively on his own repertoire, Matmatah is slowly recovering from his 30th birthday by returning to his first love: covering other people’s songs !
Because Matmatah comes from there, from the steamy atmosphere of bars and clubs.
Back in the day, they played loads of covers. Oh yes, they certainly did.
So why not put a few of them together on an album?
It’s a must, isn’t it?
Except that… There are many ways to record an album of covers.
The band could have taken the easy route and covered the songs they loved in their early days. But that would be to misunderstand these lads. They needed to come up with a proper concept to justify such a project.
They came up with two:
To tackle styles that are diametrically opposed to their own, so they could better make them their own.
To broaden their linguistic repertoire and experiment with different sounds.
The result is a rich, joyful and socially conscious collection of 20 songs, written between the 18th and 21st centuries and performed in no fewer than 10 European languages. A fine tribute to the continent’s diversity.
To spice up this project, they’ve brought in the whirlwind that is Fanny Gillard on vocals for ‘Eisbär’ and ‘Putain Putain’, the powerful voice of Morgane Mercier on the eerie ‘Alison Gross’, mentor Patrick Marie for a space-age ‘Kan Ha Diskan’, and the immense Kevin Camus on the uilleann pipes and whistle for ‘The Winner Takes It All’.
Matmatah takes a wild ride, travelling across Europe and through time, having fun and cheekily reworking songs he never imagined he’d play.
Find the lynx!

Red Axes step into the fabric presents series with a release that feels both inevitable and deeply personal. Known for their hypnotic, psychedelic approach to club music, the Tel Aviv–based duo bring a narrative-driven sensibility that aligns seamlessly with fabric’s legacy of long-form storytelling and forward-thinking curation.

Across years of performances at fabric and other key global institutions, Red Axes have developed a reputation for sets that unfold patiently and unpredictably, drawing dancers into a world where groove, tension, and atmosphere take precedence over genre or trend. Their contribution to the fabric presents series reflects this ethos: a carefully sculpted journey that prioritises mood, momentum, and emotional depth, while remaining firmly rooted in the physical language of the dancefloor.

Formed by Dori Sadovnik and Niv Arzi, Red Axes emerged from Tel Aviv’s underground with a sound shaped by post-punk, acid, krautrock, and cosmic disco influences. Over the past decade, they have built a catalogue defined by raw textures, twisted melodies, and a distinctly human looseness, qualities that translate as powerfully in the club as they do on record. Their releases and remixes for labels such as Phantasy, Correspondant, Running Back, Dark Entries, and Permanent Vacation have established them as artists who consistently operate just outside the expected.

As DJs, Red Axes are celebrated for their ability to stretch time on the dancefloor, weaving obscure selections, unreleased material, and leftfield classics into slow-burning, trance-inducing narratives. This approach has seen them invited to venues and festivals including Panorama Bar, De School, Bassiani, Dekmantel, Sonar, and Primavera Sound, where their sets are defined not by peaks alone, but by the tension built between them.

With the forthcoming fabric presents Red Axes release, the duo deliver a statement that captures years of shared musical intuition and a deep respect for the club as a communal, transformative space. It is a mix that rewards close listening as much as physical immersion, a snapshot of Red Axes at their most focused, expressive, and uncompromising.

To mark the launch of their forthcoming fabric presents album, the duo unveil the lead single, “Hot Rod To Hell”, a bold reworking of Man Parrish and Roy Garrett’s 14-minute spoken-word electro epic, reimagined through Red Axes’ signature psychedelic lens.

Stripped back and refocused, the original’s narrative tension is transformed into a hypnotic, downtempo house track built for late-night immersion. A rolling, elastic groove anchors the track, while pulsing low-end, subtly warped synth lines, and tightly controlled percussion create a sense of slow, smouldering momentum. The spoken vocal elements drift through the mix like fragments of memory, lending the track a ritualistic, cinematic quality without overwhelming the dancefloor.

Cathartic avant-rock, literate DIY folk & experimental composition exploring displacement, love, climate change, belonging & the places we call home - RIYL Jim O’Rourke, Richard Youngs, This Heat, Richard Dawson, Flying Nun. ‘Real Home’ is the new album by the Manchester-born, London-based artist Kiran Leonard. His sixth album proper (not including innumerable tour-only CD-Rs and short-run cassettes), since his precocious debut in 2013, ‘Real Home’ finds Leonard invigorated by inspiration and experience, making passionate, literate, and mercurial music that explores displacement, love, memory, climate change, connections to home and more. Encompassing songs recorded after moving to South London, ‘Real Home’ reflects on ideas of belonging and domesticity through folkloric, stream-of-consciousness songwriting. Across nine tracks, Leonard traces lived impressions of the household and the city, expressing sentiments of dislocation, alienation and stasis, but contentment too. Infusing the avant-rock effervescence, terraced dynamics and visionary lyricism of his music with what he defines as a greater sense of openness, Leonard is as versatile, fervent and imaginative as ever on ‘Real Home’, yet his music is somehow more intimate, affecting, and acutely expressive. Shaped by dual considerations of simplicity and formalism, ‘Real Home’ is by turns beautiful, allusive, and ruminative, an album on which Leonard considers what his songs have resembled in the past and what they mean now. In recent years, Leonard has crafted eloquent chamber music inspired by the likes of James Joyce and Clarice Lispector (‘Derevaun Seraun’), responded to contemporary politics and communication breakdown in the digital age (‘Western Culture’), and compiled solo works and ensemble recordings for a longform ode to Jonas Mekas and to one of Leonard’s enduring themes; home (‘Trespass On Foot’). On ‘Real Home’, Leonard reiterates this abiding thematic focus yet ascends to new, different heights, in music of cathartic delicacy and dissonance where all the myriad dimensions of his work to date seem to crystallize. There are sinuous songs about struggle and defying the pace of city life through drift and diversion (‘Pass Between Houses’), stirring songs of intense feeling and crescendo, described as a form of speculative detective fiction (‘Theatre for Change’). There are touching solo piano ballads (the title track), symbolic contentions with carbon capture and climate change (‘Utopia of Bog’), modes of experimental minimalism (‘Void Attentive’), and other profuse feats of compositional range, embroidered with wild tendrils of narrative and lyrical depth. A record to pore over, and get lost in. Exemplifying the vast aesthetic scope of Leonard’s music, lead single ‘My Love, Let’s Take The Stage Tonight’ is inspired by country lodestar Hank Williams, Russian poetry and a late period love poem by William Carlos Williams. Yet for Leonard, the song signals a sense of accessible materiality, and is the product of a more linear approach to writing songs: “My imitation of the great Hank Williams, in spirit if not in substance…This is one of the best efforts on Real Home at a song-as-object. Looking at it now I realise I was trying to write a song that made itself known as a song to the listener, and I wonder whether that’s crucial if you want a song to transcend its context. And that this is either accomplished through a total openness – by being inviting, by laying the tricks of the song out plain to see, as Williams and his many ghostwriters did so well – or by adopting a knowing aloofness, positioning oneself against the listener but letting it be known that that’s what it’s doing. In this song I try both, but mostly the former: as in, I wanted to write a song where every line follows on from the next.” Imbuing the endlessly elaborate and inventive qualities of his music with a newfound streak of candid, clear-cut melodicism, Leonard has reached a special place in his artistry, on a record that feels familial, and expresses closeness. Assembled with affiliates including Lauren Auder, Otto Willberg, Jasper Llewellyn (caroline), Tom Hardwick-Allan (Shovel Dance Collective), Magda McLean (caroline, The Umlauts), Alex Mckenzie (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective), Isabelle Thorn (Dear Laika) & more, the recording process had a significant influence on the subject matter of ‘Real Home’, in sessions defined by close-knit camaraderie and artistic eccentricity: “The theme of the home obviously recurs throughout the record; the album was mostly recorded in domestic spaces with friends, and the name of the album is Real Home. I like the qualifier ‘real’, like you’re getting past the cloak of the word and towards the thing-itself…also nearly all the percussion in this record was recorded on items from my dad’s shed (jam jars, sandpaper, blocks of wood, etc). Real home record!” ‘Real Home’, like anything by Kiran Leonard, is a record of dazzling multiplicity. Yet it’s a companionable prospect with a central premise; a collection of songs where listeners old and new can find a home. An album led by a scene; of Leonard standing at the threshold, ready to welcome you inside. “Exceptional songs that linger” - The Guardian // “An autodidact of amazing talent & energy” – Pitchfork // “A ridiculous amount of talent…confrontational, celebratory, provocative or perverse – he manages all of these emotions & more” - The Quietus /

Nevertheless, the latest album from Hammock, exists in a state of awakening. Across 11 ambient guitar string, and piano works, ethereal light crests and contrasts with darkness, giving shape to physical forms and feelings. Amidst sorrow and grief, melodic motifs and refrains echo from the past to reanimate dreams and faded memories. As Nevertheless asks questions of permanence and purpose, beauty takes shape in the intangible_the traceless connections that gave, and give, meaning. "Nevertheless has been one of those words that has outlasted my upbringing," says Hammock's Marc Byrd. "Being from the deep South, I most often heard it said or read at funeral services. It's meant to imply a type of sacred pause . . . a space of in between. Between the grief of being broken by the world and the impossibility of moving into a future that feels more like empty space and less like solid ground. This album is for a friend who lost a daughter and a son to addiction within a couple of years of each other. Requiem for Johan sets up the context for what is to follow throughout the rest of the album. . . a passage through the aftermath of devastation. Unfortunately, and fortunately, these seasons of loss are what we all share in common. Nevertheless . . . we limp on."

A century-old grand piano, a secluded house surrounded by the greenery of Brittany, no internet connection, and a reel-to-reel recorder.L'Écho de Bretagne, the new EP by Niklas Paschburg, set for release from fall 2025 via Nettwerk Music Group, is a solo piano record as essential as it is intense. An album made of silences, space, slowness. A music that doesn't chase impact, but truth.

the album release is march 26th - 2026.

If his previous work, Mexican Alps (2025), marked the first time the German composer and producer created an ambient-electronic album without his instrument of choice, the piano, L'Écho de Bretagne emerges as a direct response to that absence. "It was exactly the lack of piano that brought about the need for this new record, which instead puts that instrument, so vital to me, at the very center, stripping everything else away," Niklas explains.

Born in 1994, Paschburg has shaped over the years a musical path deeply connected to travel, nature, and introspection. From his debutTuur Mang Welten(2016) toOceanic(2018),Svalbard(2020),Panta Rhei(2023), and the aforementionedMexican Alps— alongside soundtracks, remixes, and collaborations with artists like RY X, Hania Rani, Ásgeir, and Bryan Senti — his sound bridges neoclassical, electronic, ambient, and pop-driven composition.

WithL'Écho de Bretagne, the Hamburg-born, Berlin-based musician continues his exploration by seeking solitude in nature, much like he did onSvalbard, but this time with an even more radical choice: disconnecting completely from the internet, and switching off both computer and smartphone for a while, in order to fully immerse himself in his new music. "I rented an old cottage in Paimpol, Brittany, where I knew there was a grand piano," he recounts. "When I got there, I discovered that not only was the piano more than a hundred years old, but it was also of an unknown brand, never restored, and quite difficult to play. But that gave it a unique character, and I didn't give up. Sure, it was an instrument left to its own fate, I couldn't play anything too fast. But how fascinating was that? I'm convinced that setting limits, instead of giving yourself total freedom when composing, can become an extraordinary source of inspiration."

As for the decision to temporarily detach from a life that demands we stay constantly connected, Niklas describes it as both a creative and human experiment. "I had my laptop and phone with me, just in case, but I kept them turned off. That choice made me wantL'Écho de Bretagneto be a fully analog work, even in how it was recorded." A way of clearing the mind. "I don't think I've ever been as calm as I was during those days in Paimpol. Even though I was working on a very specific project and didn't have much time, that period was more relaxing than any vacation."

Not that it was free of hiccups. "I'd borrowed a reel-to-reel recorder small enough to travel with me, but after recording a session on the piano, I realized it wasn't working properly, the sound was distorted, full of crackles. I got worried, because I wasn't near any big city where I could find a technician. Luckily, I figured out the problem was the old tape reels I had brought along. That was the only time I had to go online, to order new ones. But it was just for a moment. I shut everything off again right after." At that point, Niklas was waiting for the new tapes to arrive. He found out, completely by chance, from a local UPS courier that they had been delivered to a nearby village. "Since my phone was off, I couldn't track the shipment. So one day I asked this delivery guy, who didn't know anything about it. But from that point on, we'd see each other daily and talk… That's what being disconnected also means: reconnecting with people around you, even strangers. It was thanks to that courier that I found out where the tapes had ended up. And he even helped me get them back, writing directions for me on a scrap of paper."

But there's another element that makes this new EP unique.L'Écho de Bretagnewas recorded entirely live; its tracks are all improvised, complete with their imperfections. This approach leads to a sound that is pure, profoundly organic, and deeply authentic, intentionally preserved to give the listener the feeling of a live performance happening in their own living room. The touch of fingers on the keys, the breath of the wood, the tension of the vibrating string, all become part of the music. There is no construction, only expression. "Even now, when I listen back to it, I feel that moment I gave myself to step away from everything: from reality, from words, from noise." The result is a collection of suspended melodies and atmospheres, reflecting a state of the soul. A refuge from the rush of time. A pause from the world.

After their recent LP Mirages (Kraak Records, 2025) with French turntablist Guilhem’All, the group continues to explore collaborations with artists and instruments from diverse musical traditions. Building on decades of uncompromising acoustic exploration, Razen delves deeper into their practice with five improvisational pieces that unfold slowly in time and space. The duo’s radical core - Brecht Ameel and Kim Delcour - finds in Van der Harst a longtime kindred spirit, united by the impact of sound, intonation, and the sheer joy of playing.

To be released on April 24 via VIERNULVIER Records, the artwork for Stained Glass Starling was created by American visual artist Robert Beatty (Oneohtrix Point Never, Christina Vantzou, The Weeknd, Tame Impala). The physical release comes with a 16-page booklet including artwork and an interview.

A long-standing artistic kinship lies at the heart of this project, with first encounters dating back to the early 2000s in Belgian musical improv theatre. Van der Harst’s lifelong experience in improvised music and music theatre, spanning back to the 1980s, combined with a vast arsenal of rare and historical instruments, opens new tonal territories within the Razen universe.

These explorations are not incidental: his family roots in the former Dutch East Indies — through his great-grandfather — provide a quiet backdrop to his enduring affinity for Asian musical traditions. Instruments such as erhu, Javanese kacapi, and others introduce timbres
that bring the music its most pronounced Asian inflections to date.

Yet despite this shift in colour, the underlying ethos remains unmistakably Razen. Working from sound rather than form, the ensemble approaches music as painters approach a canvas: adding layers, contrasts and shades with care. There is no soloist’s ego here; all voices are equal, echoing principles found in gamelan traditions.

Over the decades, Razen and Dick Van der Harst have crossed paths repeatedly, notably through cult theatre productions by Belgian theatre maker Eric De Volder, including Zwarte vogels in de bomen (2002) and Huis der Verborgen Muziekjes I–II (2000–2006). Recording an albumtogether had long been a shared aspiration — a wish that crystallised after a 2024 concert at Concertzaal Miry in Ghent, part of the Ruiskamer series by VIERNULVIER Art Centre.

"PRONTO" is the debut album by ARYA, an Italian-Venezuelan artist who grew up in Milan. ARYA arrives with this first full-length album after the EPs
Peace of Mind (2021) and Punto Zero (2023), collaborations (Mahmood, Venerus, Ghemon, Dardust, Calibro35, and many others), and an intense live
activity, which have made her one of the most interesting voices on the Italian neo-soul/R&B scene.
Born from a personal journey of therapy and awareness, "PRONTO" takes shape as a concept album, transforming the emotional investigation into a
coherent and layered musical narrative. The title captures the meaning of the project: "Pronto" is a word that crosses all the languages present on the
album—Italian, English, and Spanish—taking on different meanings ("subito," "presto"), and is also the first word uttered in the intro. A term that introduces the listener to a space of availability, anticipation, and presence.
The entire album was produced by Claudio La Rocca (Sup Nasa), a key figure in building the project's sonic identity. Giuseppe Seccia, Matteo D'Ignazi,
Martina Tedesco, Tiziano Codoro, Stefano De Vivo, and Giulia Gentile also contributed to the album, recording the instrumental parts and contributing
to the arrangements and production of some tracks.
With "PRONTO," ARYA takes the listener on a journey through different levels of her emotional history, until the elevator starts moving again and leaves room for a new possibility of balance.
ARYA (AryaDelgado) is an Italian-Venezuelan artist born in Milan in 1994. Daughter of salsa singer Orlando Watussi, she grew up surrounded by music
and quickly developed a sensibility that blends Latin roots, nu-soul, and contemporary R&B, with a strong focus on the emotional and narrative dimensions of her writing. In 2021, she released her debut EP, Peace of Mind, followed in 2023 by Punto Zero. These releases attracted press attention
and led to collaborations with artists such as Mahmood, Venerus, Ghemon, Dardust, and Calibro35. Over the years, she has consolidated an increasingly recognizable presence, alternating songwriting, solo production, and an intense live schedule in Italy and abroad. In 2024, she accompanied Mahmood on tour and released the single, "Si Potesse Tornare." In 2025, La Noche En Que Te Fuiste and Onda were released, songs that marked the
beginning of a new artistic chapter and anticipated the release of “PRONTO,” her debut album, released in February 2026. An intimate and layered
work, which focuses on vulnerability as a language and confirms ARYA as one of the most personal and aware voices of the new Italian soul scene.

»Music for Shared Rooms« is B. Fleischmann’s eleventh solo album and his first since 2018. It is also not an album, or at least not in the conventional sense of the word. These 16 instrumental pieces provide a kaleidoscopic glimpse of a forward-thinking musician at home in many different musical worlds, including experimental and abstract music, pop and more classically-minded compositional forms. These pieces were culled from an archive of roughly 600 compositions for theatre pieces and films written throughout the past twelve years. The Österreichischer Filmpreis-awarded composer, however, aimed for more than simply documenting his extensive work in and with different media. To do so, he edited and re-mixed the individual recordings for this release, taking them out of their contexts and reworking them for an audience who can experience them in a different setting. »Music for Shared Rooms« makes it possible for its listeners to engage with the sounds and to fill the spaces they open up with their own imagination.

Roughly speaking, music for theatre or film can serve two functions: it either takes the lead, or underscores what is happening on stage or screen. The marvelous thing about these pieces is that they manage to do both. Fleischmann’s work as a prolific producer has always drawn on contrasts, at times combining pop sentiment with rigid experimentation, the seemingly naive with the intricate and complex. This approach also marks the tracks collected here: bringing together acoustic elements and electronic sounds, at times working with conventional structures but always de- and re-contextualising them, Fleischmann constructs a vivid dramaturgy out of discrete singular compositions, letting them interact across the record.

Take, for example, the opener »Träumerei« and the following »Brenne«: after the soothing acoustic sounds of the former, the latter quickly picks up speed with hard-hitting drum machine rhythms. It’s a stark contrast sonically and stylistically, however both tracks are tied together by a certain harmonic sensibility. This sort of dramaturgical interconnectedness of varied musical materials is the thread that runs through »Music for Shared Rooms«. A droney piece for string instruments like »Sehnsucht« is followed by a trip-hop beat, before »Schock« lives up to its title with skittering beats and piercing high frequencies. The differences between the pieces may be striking, but the progression from one to the other is subtle. It goes on like this through different moods and tempos. There’s soothing-yet-eerie piano pieces like the »Für Elise«-inspired »Der Lärmkrieg«, gentle house grooves, joyful synthesizer excursions and, finally, »Die Erde ist mir fremd geworden«, a collage of abstract textures and concrete sounds.

All these pieces create distinct situations through the juxtaposition of diverse musical elements, but are also bound together by a single vision. Writing music for theatre pieces or film requires a composer and his pieces to engage with people and their movements in space, which is exactly what Fleischmann offers on this record. He breaks down the fourth wall and invites his listeners into his world, a wide-ranging musical panorama. »Music for Shared Rooms« is indeed not an album in the conventional sense of the word, but more like a photo album in which each page opens up a new space to get lost in; recreates different scenes in which you can immerse yourself. These are shared rooms indeed.

First time reissue of JP free jazz rarity, pre-Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai group.

The single album self-released by the quartet Shūdan Sokai in 1977 is one of the most vital documents of mid-seventies Japanese free jazz, documenting Tokyo’s free scene at the precise moment when it began to shift to a handful of tiny venues on the western fringes of the city. In Free Jazz in Japan, Teruto Soejima identifies the extant venue Aketa no Mise in Nishi-Ogikubo as the pioneer of this decamping from the centre: a cramped basement beneath a rice shop, seating just 20 people. Musician-run, operated on a shoestring, these spaces offered a vital site for community, creativity, and a small measure of financial independence — “even though it was in a basement, in spirit it was a loft.”

Among the most active of the new venues was Alone in Hachiōji, nearly an hour from Shinjuku, in a district shaped by universities, lower rents, and a thriving counterculture. Originally opened in 1973 as a jazu kissa, Alone was unusually spacious and equipped with a stage, grand piano, and drum kit. Around 1974, Junji Mori and Yasuhiro Sakakibara began working there, booking free jazz players on weekends and establishing the venue as a crucial hub. Mori recalls early appearances by figures including Kazutoki Umezu, Toshinori Kondo, and others who would define the scene.

In early 1976, Umezu and pianist Yoriyuki Harada — recently returned from New York’s loft jazz environment, where they had played with musicians such as David Murray and William Parker — formed Shūdan Sokai with Mori and drummer Takashi Kikuchi. The name, meaning “mass evacuation,” pointed to their self-chosen exile in Hachiōji. With Alone as their home base, the quartet developed a music characterized by an infectious sense of enjoyment and a willingness to integrate free jazz with elements of song structure. Harada switched between piano and bass; the group experimented with rap-like vocal pieces, jabbering nursery rhymes over bass rhythms.

They returned to Alone on December 24 to record Sono zen’ya (Eve), releasing it on their own Des Chonboo Records, partially funded by advertisements from local businesses printed on the rear cover. The closing “Ballad for Seshiru,” dedicated to Harada’s newborn son, unfolds over a delicate piano melody that moves into emphatic chords as intertwining alto lines rise and spiral.

Alone closed in September 1977, and Shūdan Sokai soon dissolved, later morphing into the expanded Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai Orchestra. What remains is a recording rooted in a specific place and moment: a fiercely independent scene sustained by small rooms, close listening, and collective commitment.

The Fuga compilation returns to Token with its seventh installment by a fresh batch of artists emphasizing the cryptic sound of the Belgian record label. The V/A displays urgency as its focal point, expanding and contracting its acoustic space throughout to channel instability. With eight contributions, Fuga VII sifts through nail biting arpeggios, frenzied percussion, and obscure ambiance to recalibrate techno's current soundscape.

Opening the compilation is contemporary techno mainstay Rene Wise with his debut contribution to the record label 'Rough Rider'. In this A1, Wise plays to his strengths by blending deep techno influences with hyper-focused rhythmic work. With a hint of tribalism, he conjures up synthwork from far off to whip motion into heavy drum patterns. Following this first track, STIPP and Sandrien take control in presenting 'Corrie', a sequence-forward groover that slides through drum programing to streamline rhythm. A shrill pad comes in at the halfway mark, completely lifting the energy of 'Corrie' to strain the track's obscurity with an ethereal counterweight. The brief passage of these kinds of elements provides a lot of dynamic to what would otherwise be a powerfully straightforward piece. Diving deeper, Red Rooms unveils 'Limited Sensory' as the next chapter of the compilation. Always swift and exact, the German artist continues to push into the ultra immersive with a web of elements that whiz by for a peaktime lock in. Cold in attitude, Red Rooms tunnels through 'Limited Sensory' with quick drumsand far-off percussive hits that rumble through the track. Stepping up afterwards is Lindsey Herbert with 'Oscillations in Space' - an appropriately named recording that experiments with mania as a tool for the dancefloor. Fast and spiraling, Herbert keeps her hands on the arpeggio's filter to contain tension through thunderous reverb transitions, balancing panic with pace. AgainstMe then stretches out the followup with the commanding 'Phase Shift' to double down on weight. Textural intimidation and stomping percussion is given the space it needs to perform on heavy weight sound systems, making it an austere middle point for Fuga. MAL HOMBRE then guides the listener to more elastic sound design in 'Critical Velocity', in a most appropriate Token fashion. Snowballing in intensity halfway through, MAL HOMBRE pushes the cutoff of his melody and programs snare rolls for vintage craze through the second section. Bells clash with ringing hats to fly the track along its course without looking back or letting go. Conor Wall takes control with 'The Strategy' that focuses on pace rather than melody, weaponizing metallic texture for a deep dancefloor experience. The ambiance does a lot of story telling here, marking breaks and riding through drops to provide grit to an already substantial record. This leads us to the final contribution in Fuga VII - 'Ad Libitum'. Here, Porteix emphasizes the conclusion of the compilation with mystery. The synths slither around pulsating rhythm, creating uninterrupted motion throughout the track's entirety. Porteix draws the curtains on an inquisitive note, keeping the suspense high until the next Fuga compilation comes around.

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

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

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

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