Search:traces

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

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

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

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

1970s New York: determined to emerge from his powerful father's shadow and make a name for himself in Manhattan real estate, aspiring mogul Donald Trump is in the earliest days of his career when he encounters the man who will become one of the most important figures in his life: political fixer Roy M. Cohn. Seeing promise in young Donald, the influential attorney--who secured espionage convictions against Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and investigated suspected Communists alongside Senator Joseph McCarthy--teaches his new acolyte how to amass wealth and power through deception, intimidation, and media manipulation. The rest is history.

“Eerie, wailing sounds over distorted feedback drones… Vibrato-heavy harmonies chirrup and throb in agonisingly slow motion.”
The Guardian, Album of the Month

“Cinematic...carefully orchestrated...delicately explores unfamiliar territory with uncanny finesse.”
The Wire

Acclaimed Icelandic theremin musician Hekla returns with Turnar, her third album of devastatingly heavy, spectral soundscape-songwriting, entering a sublime paranormal plane of haunting dread.

Now augmenting her virtuosic solo theremin work with cello, voice, and the sacred church organ of Icelandic master Kristján Hrannar, the evolution of Hekla’s unique magic summons new worlds with Turnar. The album was recorded partly in (and named after) a medieval castle tower in rural France, its ruinous black broken in spare beams of angelic stained-glass light. But, writes Hekla, “the sound of theremin kind of opens up a portal into a new realm that both looks into a dark old world and to the future.” The record is an alternately beautiful and crushing space voyage into a glacial underworld cascading with phosphorescence and cave drip, conjuring ancient choral ritual just as readily as redolent sci-fi gloam.

Opener “Inni” begins with swooning and shimmering lines of theremin that shiver with electrified energy before subfrequency bass elevates them into a glowing plasma, hovering above a crystallised surf. Key moment “Gráminn” wails with ghostly harmonics while distorted drones crash together in a stormy and blackened netherworld sea. It traces a neat progression from Hekla’s last album - the acclaimed Xiuxiuejar - while also welcoming an expanded timbral palette and flourishing compositional confidence. At the end of side A, “Var” delicately places sonic artefacts about a desolate negative space, creating a dense inverse gravity. As with the rest of the record, a claustrophobic gauze hangs over music that could otherwise be called subverted songwriting, aligning Hekla’s sonics with avant-garde, musique concréte and sound-art.

While she was waiting for her last album 'Pripyat' to be released, Catalan composer and producer Marina Herlop was restless. She was concerned about her (by then) uncertain music career, and felt emotionally unmoored. "Some days I used to sit on the balcony of my flat to catch some sun," she explains, "I would close my eyes and start visualizing myself as a gardener, pulling out purple weeds from the soil, every bad memory or emotion I wanted to expulse being one of the plants." As the days dragged on, the fantasy deepened, and Herlop discovered that parts of the garden was withering; the energy she had been putting into the non-musical side of her life had seeped into her creative pasture and poisoned it. She knew what she needed to do to overcome the blight: plant some seeds and tend to her art to help it blossom and bloom once again. 'Nekkuja' is a place for Herlop's warmest, sweetest sentiments to rise to the surface and crack through the topsoil. She describes the record as a way for her to seek and affirm inner light, and it's undoubtedly her brightest, poppiest statement to date. The forward-thinking, experimental touches that nourished 'Pripyat' are still present, but blessed with a level of positivity that's rare to find in a scene so entranced by darkness and melancholy. Skittering fragments of ornate acoustic instrumentation provide a serene welcome to 'Busa', punctuated by precise electronic processes that shuttle the sound towards abstraction and fantasy. Herlop's voice grows over the tangle of sounds from a childish giggle into a layered, matted mantra, sounding passionate, hopeful and full of energy. The vitality spills over into 'Cosset', where she wraps powerful motifs around ricocheting beats and dramatic piano rolls. Herlop's garden opens up dramatically on 'Karada' when bucolic field recordings crack like sunlight over harp plucks and willowy vocals. Her voice seems to bend around the whooshing streams and chittering of birds as if she's singing to the manicured land itself - a utopian paradise that Herlop employs as a metaphor for the creative process. In contrast to the view that an artist is an isolated genius or an idol to be worshipped, Herlop believes that the garden helps us see the process as closer to devotion or perseverance. A gardener brings order to the wild chaos of the outdoors, collaborating with nature to arrange something vibrant and enduring. Blending familiar sounds with fanciful concepts, Herlop traces an imaginary garden, imploring us to wander and wonder. And by the album's billowing final track 'Babel', it's flowered into a flush of pruned vocal phrases and delicately groomed orchestral rushes, painted in orange, green, blue and red.

Writing music, for singer-songwriter and producer Fine, “feels like being entrusted with a secret.” On Rocky Top Ballads, the Copenhagen-based musician’s debut album, these secrets take the form of minimalist compositions that search for glimpses of beauty in the everyday. Recorded, produced, and mixed by Fine, the album is a mystical soundtrack to a captivating songwriter’s explorations of process and intuition.

“The whole album is about the moments when you see a crack in something,” Fine explains, “where you briefly see another side of yourself or of someone you've known forever.”

Fine grew up in Denmark’s rural Northern Jutland; there, her father’s guitar and banjo playing formed the sonic backdrop of her childhood. In the years since, her musical curiosity has led her to work across a range of styles and sounds. In her early twenties, she became part of Danish electronic trio Chinah, which released three albums. You might also have caught her sampled vocals on the joyfully rollicking Two Shell song “Home,” from 2021. Then, last year, she — along with Erika de Casier and Smerz — co-wrote three songs for the massive, critically lauded K-pop group New Jeans. Fine is also a part of Clarissa Connelly Canons group back home in Denmark, and writes music under the moniker Coined with composer and songwriter Astrid Sonne.

But Rocky Top Ballads is a turn back towards a more personal, stream-of-consciousness songwriting style. Fine wrote and recorded these songs sporadically over the course of the last few years. In light of Chinah’s collaborative, piecemeal production style, Fine craved a more organic, intuitive process for these songs. Her work on the record combines sample-based production with the sounds of instruments she and her collaborators could hold in their hands, ones that inspired free-flowing improvisation: electric and acoustic guitar, even the Ensoniq keyboard that was in her childhood home. The resulting songs are equally inspired by the country and folk of her childhood, the hazy beauty of Mazzy Star, the avant-garde pop of Dean Blunt, and the songwriting of ’90s singer-songwriters like Suzanne Vega.

Fine describes her songwriting process as a “magical thinking method”: being in contact with the present moment and pretending as if she already knows the song she’s about to write. Many of the songs on Rocky Top Ballads use the original takes of Fine’s vocals, an attempt to capture a song’s initial essence and avoid disturbing the song’s generative idea as much as possible. You can hear that well-preserved spark on songs like “Losing Tennessee,” a minimalist and wistful reflection on the inherent loss and change of growing older. She wrote other tracks, like the piano-led “Whys” and the woozy “Coasting,” through a process of cutting and layering her improvisations, carefully merging multiple musical snippets into newly seamless compositions. And the stunning closing track “A Star” is the product of a slow process of evolution: beginning as an understated expression of sincerity before dissolving into a rich, distorted guitar-driven exploration.

As a songwriter and producer, Fine’s work often peers into the universes of experience that can be hidden inside a fragmentary moment. Sometimes she explores this literally — as in “Days Incomplete,” which she built off a short sample from “A Star.” This impulse — to zoom in, to recontextualize, to excavate — threads throughout her lyrics, too. What happens, her songs ask, when we pay close attention to those everyday images and physical realities we might otherwise ignore: the sky, the rain, the sun, the sea? On the spacious and swoony “Big Muzzy,” with its gentle sway and Cocteau Twins-inflected vocals, Fine sings about watching the “summer turn blue”; the grooving, propulsive “Remember The Heart” is a love letter to the sea where she grew up. In her airy voice, Fine traces meandering melodies that continually unspool with fresh insights.

A particular mantra guided Fine’s songwriting throughout the creation of Rocky Top Ballads: “Everything has potential.” In these songs, small moments are worthy of deep contemplation, and gentleness can evoke worlds of emotion. The resulting songs offer a gift of momentary pleasure, flowing and unhurried as a gentle breeze.

Marissa Lorusso

"This record explores the relationships between mid century architecture, consumerism and community. The gradual or sometimes brutal removal and change of places in the name of progress. These changes leave traces that people have to deal with on a psychological level but probably never really acknowledge. This record explores loss of community and loss or unsympathetic altering of shopping spaces. When something is unceremoniously knocked down or altered and something else replaces it then the thing before it becomes ghost like and is at risk of being forgotten. Not dissimilar to when the Christian faith built their buildings upon Pagan sites. It has a similar purpose (to pray or to shop in this case) but the older thing becomes dreamlike and is confined to folklore. The community is always fed the propaganda of progress but looking back, I certainly cannot deny the beauty of what has now gone. Maybe there is a sense of dissolution and denial about such matters. The record is also interested in the sense of community of these past spaces and how shopping centres have generally declined mainly due to the rise of neo liberalism and tech giants. When you see old footage of these spaces in their prime, you get a sense of a space age future, everything looks new but paradoxically the people look to be from an older time. Today I can see real poverty and complete disenfranchisement from being in these new spaces. It's not all doom and gloom though as spaces, especially the ones in Plymouth are not that much altered and could be brought back to the architects original dreams."

David A.

In 1967, in the midst of Franco's dictatorship, a group of seminarians created a rock band: Enarak. They played pop, rock and psychedelia, styles that were strange in the society of the time and, only in Basque. Faced with a society that found these rhythms strange, they had the courage to play blues, psychedelia and progressive rock in Basque. In 1969 they recorded and released three songs and, over the next four years, they gave hundreds of concerts all over the Basque Country. The last one, in Larraitz, in the shadow of Mount Txindoki, on 31 October 1971. On a cold, misty night lit by a full moon, they brought together some 5,000 young people with the intention of enjoying modern music. After that night, they disappeared forever. Their only traces are the three songs you will find on this album. With the aim of recovering and making the history of the group known, the Bira Produkzioak cooperative has produced a documentary entitled 'Enarak'. Using the power of cinema for social transformation, we are organizing a concert on 21 May 2023. Again in Larraitz, Amorante, Rüdiger and Liher covered the three songs of Enarak. This is not just an album or a concert in the usual way. It is an exorcism, a ritual for the resurrection of Enarak, a historical piece and, at the same time, an object of memory that encapsulates the soul of the late 60s Basque group. In 1969 they recorded the original EP consisting of three songs including a version of the popular song "Solferinoko istua" and "Ama" and "Bañan ez", band's own compositions. The B side songs of this release are performed live in 2023 by Amorante, Rüdiger and Liher.

Lara Sarkissian’s long-awaited debut full-length, ‘Remnants’ is an ornate patchwork of ancient and modern sonic shapes that uses the vernacular of electronic music to reformulate Armenian traditions and memories. Taking digitally modeled instruments (such as the kanun, a large zither, and the duduk, an ancient double reed woodwind instrument), vocals, davul and dhol drums, tenor saxophone (from acclaimed Paris-based player Adrien Soleiman) and myriad electronic elements and techniques, Sarkissian tangles the old and the new, creating an immersive, narrative-driven experience that’s powered by history, mythology and her own familial connection to the West Asian landscape. It’s an album that’s best absorbed like a film; only multiple encounters can reveal its layered themes and references to industrial music, noise, various club styles, ambient and traditional folk.

Born and raised in San Francisco and currently based in Los Angeles, Sarkissian has developed her unique approach to composition over years of relentless experimentation across various disciplines. Her interest in music production initially stemmed from her filmmaking and video editing work, when she began to sculpt her own sound collages and scores to accompany the visuals. Since then, she’s constantly blurred the boundary between dance and experimental music, DJing around the world, producing AV installations and scoring film and video projects that have been exhibited in Berlin’s Gropius Bau, Montréal’s Musée d’art contemporain, the Music Center Los Angeles and other prestigious institutions, and releasing music with labels such as Tresor, Knekelhuis, All Centre, Silva Electronics and CLUB CHAI, the label and event series she co-founded. In recent years, she’s also been able to advance the theory behind her art, publishing a conversation with ethnomusicologist Sylvia Alajaji in the Journal of the Society of Armenian Studies in 2021, and unveiling her methodology in Norient’s ‘This Track Contains Politics – The Culture of Sampling in Experimental Electronica’ a year later.

‘Remnants’ is a new stage in Sarkissian’s evolution as an artist; not only is it her first proper album, but it’s the inaugural release on her new platform btwn Earth+Sky. She sees the label as a place to encourage collaborations between musicians and producers and prioritize sound in visual arts realms, and ‘Remnants’ is the ideal proof of concept. It opens with ‘Heaven, or Paradise; and Hell’, a track that’s inspired by the layout of the Armenian sharakan (or hymn) ‘Aravot Luso’. Sarkissian imagines the original piece’s harmonies and melodies as parts of a dreamy electronic opera, using digital kanun sounds to punctuate her woozy, evocative synths. Soleimen joins on tenor sax in the third act, while Sarkissian repeats the chant and Jace Akira adds ghostly traces of electric guitar and bass. And on the rousing ‘Our Dead Can’t Rest (Old Jugha Flute Dance)’, Sarkissian chops urgent davul and dhol drum rhythms with spine-chilling shvi woodwind sounds lifted from a documentary about Old Jugha. The title is a reference to the moving of graves by Armenian families; the area initially housed over 10,000 elaborately carved khachkars (cross stones), one of which is pictured on the album’s cover, provided by historian Argam Aivazian’s archive.

On ‘Miracle’, Sarkissian samples atmospheres from the post-Soviet Armenian comedy film ‘Կիսանդրի’ (Kisandri). She takes this opportunity to lighten the mood a little, powdering her smudged samples with tightly edited breaks and bass thumps. It’s not until the album’s middle section that the duduk, perhaps Armenia’s best-known instrument, makes its appearance. Its familiar reedy tones, popularized by Djivan Gasparyan on his many Hollywood soundtrack appearances, emerge on ‘Unraveling (Interlude)’, weaving through the acidic ‘Zephyr’ and ‘Far from the eye far from the Heart’, a post-punk inspired stomper. Sarkissian mutates the instrument almost beyond recognition, pitching and layering it into a voice-like wail that creeps between her woody, dancefloor-primed percussion on the former, and turning it into a gentle, ghostly moan on the latter. And she brings ‘Remnants’ to a close with two of her most cryptic tracks, marrying digital kanun strings with Soleiman’s resonant tenor hums on ‘What Solace Can I Give’, and looping the same saxophone sounds until they dissolve into the air on the beatless closer ‘…nothing matters more than touching you although i haven’t touched you yet’.

It’s an album that ties up Sarkissian’s various interests and experiences, finding a romantic, poetic glimmer of light in history’s darkness. But most of all, ‘Remnants’ is about the optimism of starting anew, and rebuilding a life from the pieces of everything that’s been left behind.

Tape

On Repetitions, New York-based Swiss artist and composer Samuel Reinhard brings us close enough to a piece of music that its systematic nature begins to buckle and fade. Across four movements, three pianos pursue their own respective threadbare motifs, which overlap at the hands of a predetermined ratio of duration. What unfolds—at first glance slow, melancholic, deliberate, even plain—is a study of repetition’s in-betweens, populated by unexpected resonances and delicate traces of notes in the process of being played by human hands. The three pianos are not in sync, but are nevertheless in relation, the nature of which shifts with the listener’s orientation and attention. Each piece within Repetitions arrives as a constant whole, containing harmonies and silences that are in a never-ending process of unfurling.

Repetitions is a joint release from Hallow Ground and Präsens Editionen and follows offerings by Kali Malone, Lawrence English, and FUJI | | | | | | | | | | TA on Hallow Ground, and Robert Turman, Magda Drozd, and Anna Homler on Präsens Editionen.

* Edition of 100 professionally dubbed cassette tapes
* special artwork by artist Jeff Rossi, graphic desing by Coline Houot

You could call Wishy's story a lucky one. After prior monikers and iterations, Wishy was born as a kaleidoscope of alternative music's semi-recent history, with traces of shoegaze, grunge and power-pop swirling together. On Triple Seven, Indiana songwriters Kevin Krauter and Nina Pitchkites' musical synergy proves itself to be a rare one-the kind that sounds like someone striking gold. Part sly wink and part warm gratitude, it's only fitting their much anticipated full length debut is titled Triple Seven, where Wishy's penchant for indelible hooks is couched equally in pillowy atmospherics and scathing distortion. By day Krauter works as a music teacher, giving drum and guitar lessons to students, while Pitchkites is a seamstress by trade and often makes embroidered merch for the band. Coming up in a scene defined by hardcore and emo, Krauter and Pitchkites instead found themselves writing melodies in their heads while driving to work, pulling music from the air and arriving at a blearier, more ethereal interpretation of Midwest expanse. Initially, their music oscillated between hazy dream-pop and heavier alt-rock. The subject of their songs create a loose web of vignettes and snapshots, capturing Krauter and Pitchkites in a whirlwind couple of years _ exiting the pandemic, embarking on an embryonic project, making sense of their musical pasts while forging a musical future alongside one another, each of them on a journey of self-acceptance and self-understanding. Sometimes gorgeous, sometimes festering, and always cathartic, Triple Seven is a vibrant and exhilarating document of self-discovery with the scope and heft of the bygone big-budget rock albums that inspired it.

Apnea Records proudly welcomes a new face to the family, though one whose name resonates deeply in the electronic music world. Versalife, also known as Conforce, steps onto the label with the first of two meticulously crafted EPs in the "Parallax Effect" series. With a career spanning over 20 years of sonic innovation, Versalife delivers a masterful blend of broken rhythms, metallic textures, pulsating synths, and analog tones. From industrialesque electro to deep IDM explorations, "Parallax Effect PT.1" takes listeners on an immersive journey through cutting-edge soundscapes. And with Part 2 on the horizon, this is just the beginning of an exciting new chapter for both Versalife and Apnea Records. Pure bliss for lovers of forward-thinking electronic music!

8/10 FULL-PAGE LEAD REVIEW IN UNCUT: “TALENTED ARTISTS SUCH AS ALDOUS HARDING , DELANEY DAVIDSON, IVY ROSSITER AND MARLON WILLIAMS REPRESENT A FRESH COUNTRY-FOLK/AMERICANA MOVEMENT IN AND AROUND CHRISTCHURCH AND DUNEDIN. NADIA REID'S IMPECCABLE DEBUT WILL MAYBE SET A WIDER ORBIT IN MOTION.”
4/5 LEAD REVIEW IN MOJO: “INSPIRED DEBUT BY A YOUNG NEW ZEALAND SINGER-SONGWRITER YOU'LL FEEL YOU'VE KNOWN FOREVER. A WONDERFUL ALBUM"

SUNDAY TIMES DEBUT OF THE WEEK: "SHE RANKS ALONGSIDE LOW AND THE COWBOY JUNKIES FOR DELIVERING SLOW-BURN EMOTION"
"It has all that well-smoked wisdom, that mingling of strength and yearning that seems to charge the work of all my favourite female artists – Laura Marling, The Weather Station, Sharon Van Etten and Tift Merritt, to name but four. Reid is just 23, and since I am loathe to run that “old beyond her years” line, let us simply say that when I hear a young artist making an album as soulful and rich and self-possessed as Listen to Formation, Look for the Signs, I feel so thrilled not only for the existence of that record but for all the music they will make over all the years to come.” THE GUARDIAN PLAYLIST
6MUSIC ALBUM OF THE WEEK
A richness of voice; a depth of emotion; and wise beyond her years; with Listen To Formation, Look For the Signs, 23-year-old New Zealand native Nadia Reid has claimed her place as one of the country’s most evocative and profound young songwriters. Her music traces the sharp mountain peaks, azure coastline, and mirrored images of the land and sky that pinpoint her home country’s vast open landscapes.
Whether nerding about with friends, stunning audiences into silence with her spellbinding live shows or unwinding in the tranquillity of her favourite hometown spot overlooking Port Chalmers’ harbour through her large-rimmed spectacles, Nadia Reid has achieved a gloriously fresh and eloquent new folk sound. “I’ve been in New Zealand my whole life and guess at times I take for granted the serene beauty that I live so closely with,” she says of her music’s majestic affiliation with nature. Mapping out tales of change and loss, whilst drawing inspiration from reading, writing, the human condition, falling in and out of love, death, and birth - it all lends to a superbly balanced album that moves surreptitiously between sparse and fragile melancholia to beautifully brutal lyricism with a philosophical maturity that bellies her years.
Born in Auckland, Nadia’s acoustic roots stem from an upbringing in a musical household where attending folk clubs and festivals were regular occurrences on the family calendar. “I was lucky to witness a lot of live music and theatre performances because my mum was an actress. I was encouraged to learn piano and guitar, and attended a Steiner school where we spent a lot of time in nature, singing songs.” Before long Nadia was listening to The Be Good Tanyas with friend and fellow recording artist Aldous Harding, which spurred her chosen career path. “There was something spiritual about the Tanyas’ records - I vividly remember the goose-bump feelings up my arms, a true connection to the lyrics and vocals,” she recalls. “Aldous was the first person who told me I had a good voice and I thank her for that. I admire her as an artist and writer, and we like to keep up with what each other is up to.”
Creating her own enchanting wonderworld, each of Nadia’s songs explores the elements; truly organic, her vocals ebb, flow and soar but are always ignited with fire from the gut. Her lyrics clearly reference lush landscapes but equally reflect alienation provided by the surrounding Pacific Ocean and mortality of living in such close proximity to Mother Nature’s wrath, as experienced whilst living in Christchurch at the time of 2011’s devastating earthquake. “It shook the city to its core,” Nadia recalls. “I’m sure living through it has shaped my personality and writing. My first EP was recorded just months afterwards, it was a strange time. We were all quite fragile, but I was braver somehow.”
Boldly infusing folk with full flavour, Listen To Formation, Look For The Signs was produced by Ben Edwards, owner of Lyttelton Records in his Sitting Room studios with Nadia’s band consisting bassist Richie Pickard, guitarist Sam Taylor and percussionist Joe McCallum. Whilst 'Reaching Through’s rich but unhurried nature evokes She Hangs Brightly -era Mazzy Star and intricate nuances of Beth Orton are recalled on lead single ‘Call The Days’ which talks of moving to a new town and was the first song penned after Nadia moved from Christchurch to Wellington; spurred on by a “panic attack” and being “worried about making the right choices in life”. Elsewhere ‘Runway’ and ‘Some Are Lucky’ immediately channel Nadia’s love of TBGT’s Jolie Holland and appreciation for New Zealand’s Maori music by Maisey Rika and Anika Moa, plus the inspirational narratives of Kenyan-born Somali poet Warsan Shire.

Direct follow up to OKC noise rock band’s 2022’s breakthrough album God’s Country. Mixed by Benjamin Green (Uniform, Portrayal of Guilt, Drab Majesty). Mastered by Matt Coloton (The Rolling Stones, Blur, Nick Cave, Sunn O)). Full US tour in 2024, EU early 2025, with more dates to come. Like the towering mounds of toxic waste from which it gets its namesake, the music of Oklahoma City noise rock quartet Chat Pile is a suffocating, grotesque embodiment of the existential anguish that has defined the 21st Century. It figures that a band with this abrasive, unrelenting, and outlandish of a sound has stuck as strong of a chord as it has. Dread has replaced the American dream, and Chat Pile’s music is a poignant reminder of that shift—a portrait of an American rock band molded by a society defined by its cold and cruel power systems. Though very much on-brand with Chat Pile’s signature flavor of cacophonous, sludgy noise rock, the band’s shift to a global thematic focus on Cool World not only compliments the broader experimentations it employs with their songwriting but also how they dissect the album’s core theme of violence. Melded into the band’s twisted foundational sound are traces of other eclectic genre stylings, with examples of gazy, goth-tinged dirges to abrasive yet anthemic alt/indie-esque hooks and off-kilter metal grooves only scratching the surface of what can be heard in the album’s ten tracks. Besides stylistically stretching the boundaries of the Chat Pile sound, Cool World is also the band’s first record to have someone else handle mixing duties, with Ben Greenberg (Uniform) capturing and further amplifying the quartet’s unmistakably outsider and folk-art edge. While Chat Pile’s debut album was plenty disturbing with its B-movie-inspired interpretation of a “real American horror story”, what the band depicts on Cool World is unsettling not just from its visceral noise rock onslaught, but from depicting how all sorts of atrocities are pretty much standard parts of modern existence. In film terms, think something like a Criterion arthouse film by way of schlocky grindhouse splatterfest: undeniably gratuitous and thrilling in the moment but leaving a looming dread in the back of one’s mind for how close the horrors depicted mirror reality.

Ben Klock & Fadi Mohem announce debut collaborative album featuring Coby Sey and Flowdan on new label LAYER

Ben Klock and Fadi Mohem present their first collaborative album on their new label LAYER. The ten-track full length project titled Layer One follows the hypnotic EP Klockworks 34 that set the stage in 2022. In a bold departure from the techno roots that have defined and nurtured their careers, Klock and Mohem are now pushing genre boundaries, exploring IDM, ambient and experimental electronic music while still retaining the brilliance that characterised their earlier work.

The conceptual direction of Layer One delves into a post-human world, where humans are close to extinction on Earth, leaving only imprints, traces, and relics behind—digital fossils and machine-generated images capturing fleeting moments of non-human photography, as Artificial Intelligence remains in a world that quietly thrives without us. We do not perceive this as a bleak apocalyptic dystopia, but more a sober and serene reflection of a world that continues to exist and flourish, indifferent to the absence of humanity. Despite this unremitting setting, through this journey we find survivors who signal a remembrance of the human sensibilities.

Elevating this project are two very human and dynamic collaborations featuring the charismatic Coby Sey and the legendary grime MC Flowdan. Sey, a prominent figure in the British music scene known for his work with artists like Tirzah and Mica Levi, injects his music with a mesmerizing emotional depth. Opening the album with the powerful track ‘Ultimately,’ Sey offers spoken-word musings on creativity and life over experimental landscapes meticulously crafted by Klock and Mohem. Nostalgia permeates this opening track, and track 7 ‘Clean Slate’ reinforces this sentiment with Sey’s stream-of-consciousness wordplay.

Flowdan, the gritty MC whose verses have become anthems of the UK grime movement, made headlines in 2023 with two songs that reached the top 20 of the UK singles chart. In 2024, he was awarded his first Grammy for the Skrillex and Fred Again collaboration Rumble, becoming the first grime artist to win in any category. On track ‘Our Sector,’ Flowdan unleashes his raw energy and dynamic flow, adding a thrilling vocal dimension to the album’s narrative. The fluid delivery of his lyrics and rhythmic timing are enhanced by the staccato beats and abstract synths. These collaborations are not mere features; they are pivotal moments that crystallize the album’s vision—an experimental re-imagining of electronic music’s possibilities.

Immediately offering an impressive entry to Klock and Mohem’s changing sonic universe ‘Escape Velocity’ shows the collaboration at its strongest. Deftly juggling between ambient chords and more densely intricate rhythmic moments. These tightly layered textures and intense clashing moments are continued through most of the album. On other tracks the duo are just as innovative ‘Rest Assured’ rips open the sound palette Klock and Mohem are known for, synths dart around flickering through into unexpected areas. Penultimate track ‘The Machine’ feels like the internal innards of a PC or synthesizer brought to life. Electricity flows through the track like an auditory exploration of the digital world's hidden mechanical and electrical processes. In contrast, final track ‘Melatonin’ does exactly what the name suggests; its soothing melodic ambience cradles the listener as the album draws to a close.

Alongside the album’s release, the duo will release two singles. This album represents the work of two artists at the peak of their creative powers, inviting listeners to step outside the familiar and explore a different musical perspective.

There are few hidden gems that we can find on the different streaming channels, and it is precisely our job to have them for you. This Saturday we want to bring you a Chilean band that is born from transversal rock and its variants. We talk about The Cruel Visions. The Cruel Visions is the name that Pablo Giadach (founder) proposes to imagine a luminous and nostalgic interior landscape, expressed in songs of subtle composition and evocative beauty. The guitarist and musician in the bands Casino, Trancemission and The Ganjas, brings with him an album weathered by the passage of time in nightly improvisations and his recording studio, influenced mainly by the sounds of the early 80's, new wave, paisley underground, post punk and dark wave. The Cruel Visions was born from the idea of grouping together different recordings that Pablo made in parallel to his work with The Ganjas between 2015 and 2017 at different times and formats. Most of the album is a collection of demos and improvisations with a Rickenbacker 12-string guitar, an echo chamber and a drum machine, which were then worked on for almost 3 years in the free time at Estudio Lautaro, where he also performs. as an engineer and producer. His authorial present discovers the ethereal and light sounds that bands like The Cure or The Jesus and Mary Chain decanted, who left the initial rawness to give way to a more atmospheric and personal repertoire, which, although luminous, maintains traces of the darkest noise of the post-punk era. This time the path taken in other formations where Pablo provides precise sounds, completed with effects such as reverb and distortion, gives shape to a more personal list of songs that sails with the wind in its favor through foggy waters, already known to listeners of English 80's alternative music. Vocals and some arrangements were done at Woodbine St Recording by John A. Rivers, who has produced records by Love and Rockets, The Specials, Nikki Sudden, Close Lobsters and Dead Can Dance, among many others

Okokon returns to Other People with his sophomore album, 'Offering', delving deeper into the lush and cinematic soundscapes he first explored on his debut album, 'Turkson Side'. While primarily working in visual arts, Africanus Okokon, who records under his surname, bridges his artistic practices in 'Offering', using his masterful collage techniques to create his most personal work yet. Defying easy
categorization, the album melds influences from dream pop, avant-garde folk, psychedelia, trip hop, and dub, with traces of field recordings seamlessly blended throughout to form a cohesive whole.
'Offering' sees Okokon confronting and negotiating a sudden and unexplained death that occurred in his childhood and the complex emotions left in its aftermath, acting as his main inspiration when
making the album. This ambiguity is something that permeates throughout, with Okokon wanting to explore the ambivalence and sometimes uneasiness of contradicting emotions appearing
simultaneously, alluded to in the album title. This is also reflected in how the album tracks each inhabit different narrators with varying perspectives on the same events. The result being a hauntingly
beautiful album, with recurring themes of death, growth, sacrifice and spirituality ever present.

London based songwriter Louis Gardner offers his first mixtape, released via Goldsmiths University imprint NX Records. On For The Open Room, Gardner spirals artfully through outsider jazz, pop, folk and noise, landing sprawled in a territory all his own.

Tangled riffs and strange structures form the terrain for intimate, un-rugged vocals to float above. Starting life like brisk journal entries or misshapen doodles in digital fuzz, Gardner's stories bloom with stop-start tension, oscillating between tender and guttural, crude and complex.

For the open room captures a flow state of ideas, traces and associations - from the bubbling jazz congruence of "It's Hard", to plucked maximalist fragility on "Ten Zithers". Wrapping up with "Body Left in the Snow", Louis reveals mightily undulating piano chops - leaving us to wonder what else is withheld, and what might appear next.

Recommended for fans of Jandek, Mount Eerie, Arthur Russell.

Hank Dogs – Andy Allan, his partner Piano and Lily, Andy’s daughter from a previous relationship - started out at folk clubs in London in the early 1990s before going worldwide in 1998 when legendary producer and late 60s Folk Rock guru, Joe Boyd declared them the first British act he'd loved in 30 years. Their debut album ‘Bareback’ saw them touring the US with Joan Baez and winning fans with their quiet, haunting sound featuring ethereal vocal harmonies, strong traces of blues and Celtic music and Allan’s fluid acoustic finger-picking recalling UK folk guitarists such as John Renbourn. Another part of their appeal, particularly in the States, was their ‘Carter Family’ image but then, when Andy and Piano split-up in real life, so did the band. A follow up album ‘Half Smile’ appeared in 2002 but this turned out to be their swansong. However, the story was not quite over yet.. a third unreleased album ‘Fiveways’ had been recorded before they went their separate ways and now it’s finally seeing the light of day on South London label Scratchy Records, plus the band are re-uniting for some long overdue gigs to celebrate the release. ‘Fiveways’ contains much of the Hank Dogs’ trademark English folk/US country-straddling sound. Piano’s voice bounces between early Suzanne Vega, Tracey Thorn and Mary Margaret O’Hara with occasional hints of Dolores Cranberry and Bridget St. John, while underneath the acoustic guitars run freeform tangled and Lily’s backing vocals add sky. Stand out track ‘Logic’ with its pensive lyrics and haunting guitar line recalls the way Suzanne Vega (her again) could sometimes make songs stand still in their tracks but it’s the dreamy ‘Nut’ that really captures the mood “You had me when I was sweet as a nut.. Not sweet enough” sings Piano. This is the sound of two ex-lovers still able to work together but unable to hide the odd dig here and there.. like a follow up album a couple of years later on from ‘Blood On The Tracks’. Andy sings a few songs too including the raggedy, swashbuckling ‘Gazetteer’ revolving around a ‘Pre-CBS Maple neck Sunburst bought off The Pretty Things’ and hinting at a whole lifetime of music biz escapades from watching his dad Elkan Allan produce 60s TV show ‘Ready Steady Go’ to a stint on bass in The Professionals along with Steve Jones and Paul Cook. Next year the story carries on with his long-running South East London ‘Easycome’ club night featuring in US TV queen Lena Dunham’s new Netflix series ‘Too Much’. Towards the end of the album an angelic setting of Dylan Thomas’s ‘Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night’ in the song ‘Nod’ recalls Christmas TOTP number ones from days gone by and captures Hank Dogs ability to transport the listener. This album is definitely one for the dreamers. FFO Pentangle, The Innocence Mission and William Blake

Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time is a portal into somatic chiaroscuro, aglow with the embers of imperfect memories and smudged with the plumes of internal echoes, which augment in vast, mercurial dimensions. For his third album on RVNG Intl., the British cellist, composer and producer offers a capsule of personal resonance and remembrance, assembled over the past six years. Throb, shiver, arrow of time traces the familiar metallic anatomy and viscous string modulations of his 2020 release skins n slime, while recentering his inner compulsions following a procession of lauded score writing projects, including the films Aftersun (Charlotte Wells, 2022), The Stranger (Thomas M Wright, 2022) and Occupied City (Steve McQueen, 2023). While working on Aftersun, Wells asked Coates how music could signal that someone is going on a trawl through their memory_a question that has stayed with him ever since and fosters a heartbeat running through the record. Throb, shiver, arrow of time is "all about inaccurate transmissions from our memories, overlaid with emotions from other sources," says Coates. The release is imbued with the ache and glow of recollections mulched together, where the guttural dissonance of misremembering is shrouded by strange orbs of sentiment. At the record's inner core is "Shopping centre curfew," a swift yet cavernous track that emerged five years ago when two real world events, both occurring in South London during the pandemic lockdowns, became fused in a dream: the demolition of Elephant and Castle shopping center, and the discussion of a curfew as a real possibility for all men following a violent crime. A strange simultaneity occurred with this piece of music and Coates built the album out from there, a sense of temporal entropy refracting shimmers of lurking convulsions into lucid sonic topologies. The ten compositions of Throb, shiver, arrow of time find weightless melodies soaring across after-image gradients, magnified and compressed. Misted tones within "Please be normal" and "90" soften drone-soaked shudders of inner acoustics messing up. Vocal invocations appear from long-term collaborators Malibu and chrysanthemum bear, as well as drifting synth radiance from Faten Kanaan. Throb, shiver, arrow of time furthers Coates' reach in collapsing the digital into the analogue and vice versa, allowing serendipity to reorganize the material and push out against the confines of flatness. This sculptural approach to sound is deeply influenced by the intricate installations of artist Sarah Sze, whose permutations of visual matter with its own after-image form kaleidoscopic epitaphs for ephemera and emotion. Coates' thinking about Sze's work and processes flowed together with his own playing and editing techniques, superimposing the textural relief of a live take back into a composition, and allowing the sound to succumb to a dream of itself. As Coates expands, "The cello is a kind of melancholic instrument with a light ethereal spirit. When the sound is flattened into digital processes, with shifted frequencies and time stretching I'm trying to give it even more of those qualities. Sometimes I'm distancing myself from it, so it becomes a piece of discarded debris that has soul in it, a down-sampling. Or other times, it's trying to maximize the present tense in the act of playing, and collapse that vivid color into a burnished, photocopied kind of sound. So the music acts like weather, weathering the listener, or as flames licking at the sides of objects." As the record unfurls, the compositions swell in duration, until the granular glimmers of its finale "Make it happen" persist in almost violent delight. "There's a feeling of not wanting to let this album go, trying to defy the extinguishing sound at the end of the music, trying to push the colors beyond the confines of the structure, to defeat the silence." In the scramble to resist denouement, Coates suspends the arrow of time in its eternal flight, just for a moment, to reveal the solace of the dust settling in the afterglow. Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on October 18, 2024. On behalf of Oliver and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit The Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland, an organization fostering opportunities for people of all ages to participate in the traditional music and culture of Scotland.

Limited to 500 copies on gold vinyl, contains download also. A hugely influential album cited as the embryo for punk, grunge and beyond. Featuring epic 1970 concepts from this far reaching trio much praised by Underworld’s Karl Hyde, Captain Sensible, Stephen Malkmus and a host of others. ‘Thank Christ For The Bomb’ is a visionary tale of cold war fear, alienation and everyday drama. “This is a masterpiece!” NME // A thinking man’s rumination on alienation, the album is a game of two halves; side one tackling the thermo nuclear threat while side two traces riches to rags alienation in everyday London. First of a trio of ground-breaking albums that steered the band from the Blues into a heavier, more prog-based sound and a true reflection of their much-praised live sound

Following a run of chamber recordings, Samuel Reinhard returns with a suite of electroacoustic collages.

"Movement", the New York–based composer’s latest offering, is built from notes softly held. In his ongoing investigation of musical duration, perception, and attention, Reinhard deemphasizes progress through an embrace of repetition and negative space, inviting listeners to linger in time. Instrumental recordings are arranged according to a predetermined system, iterating fragments of sound in overlapping intervals of various sizes. Delicately layered snippets of decaying piano are joined by cello (Leila Bordreuil), bass flute (John Also Bennett), double bass (Vincent Yuen Ruiz), baritone sax (Michael Biel), and harp (Shelley Burgon). This breadth of instrumentation, arriving as individual notes stretched and overlapped, is treated not as an opportunity for immersive coalescence, but rather a gentle augmentation of texture, free-floating counterpoint. Notes are accompanied by the traces of the bodies and actions that produce them: a hand pressing a key or an arm keeping a bow aloft; breath filling an instrument’s body or glancing off its surface; a string vibrating and then softening to stillness. In sum, we hear resonance in the process of being sustained, as well as in the release that follows.

It is summer dawn . . . and you are alone. Here is music for your strange mood. The piano starts the first track, slow tempo beat, a strict beat, a swinging beat. Lillemor—here minor harmonies give the tune a rural, romantic feeling of some place in Spain or France. The tempo changes to medium fast—the flute solos. Light phrasing contrasts beautifully to the earthy, swinging beat of the rhythm section and the repeating piano figures. The trombone adds a new color, a counterpoint of sound and phrasing, backed by the pulsating beat of this wonderful rhythm and the driving piano. Summer dawn . . . This music has more to offer, because it shows the personality of Sahib Shihab at its best. Sahib is a universal musician who reflects musical experiences in jazz since the end of the thirties. He lived through the important periods of modern jazz with his heart and mind wide open toward everything that was good music, regardless of being termed "Mainstream", "Bop", "Cool", "Westcoast", "Eastcoast", "Hard Bop'', et cetera. When you listen closely to his music, you will find traces of all these, but they are immersed in his deep musicianship and his true jazz personality. Sahib Shihab's background reads like the record of a master of advanced studies. Furthermore he played and collaborated with the coolest jazz musician of that period. Above all let's name Budd Johnson, Theolonius Monk, Tadd Dameron, Milt Jackson, Dizzy Gillespie, Illinois Jaquet, Elmer Snowden, Luther Henderson, Larry Noble, Fletcher Henderson, Roy Eldridge. In his early professional years, Sahib was heard mostly on alto sax; later, more often on baritone sax and flute. Today, his name is inseparably connected with these two instruments. The unity of his jazz performances is not alone bound up with the com¬positions and the arrangements of Sahib Shihab, though in their understated simplicity they have a melodic beauty that is seldom found in jazz of today. The rhythmical subtleties add to the overall qualities of being relaxed vehicles for free-blowing, but there is an immediacy that you hear and feel every moment when listening which defies analysis. The playing of the rhythm section helps greatly to promote the sense of flux and contrasting constant renewal that makes listening to this record so invigorating an experience. Well, this is no surprise, with Kenny Clarke as the nucleus of the rhythm group. Kenny 'Klook' Clarke is a major figure and contributor in jazz, one of the founders of modern jazz, and is ranked as one of the all-time great drummers. He influenced a whole generation of musicians with his playing, though living in Paris since the middle of the fifties somewhat dimmed his name to the general American public. Nevertheless, his name alone will assure a connoisseur to expect top class musical experiences. Talking of the rhythm section we have to name Jimmy Woode's bass, which together with Kenny's drumming, is the driving force for the group and the reliable harmonic anchor for the improvisors. By the way, Jimmy has been with the Duke quite a while, and this alone is an award for extraordinary craftsmanship and artistry. The good sounding rhythm with its full-bodied color is also a result of the added bongos of Joe Harris, who manages to stay out of the way of the players—a quality not often found with drummers—but his playing is felt through the set. There are two members of the group not yet mentioned. Two Europeans, pianist-composer-arranger Francy Boland from Belgium, and trombonist Ake Persson from Sweden. Francy Boland this time is a sideman, though normally he is a leader of recording sessions, both as composer-arranger and as musical director of the band. In the fifties he was in the States writing arrangements for different name-bands, such as Basie and Goodman. In Europe, he is famous for his swinging modern big band arrangements; and his inventiveness as a writer is reflected in his piano playing. He has the talent of using the right dynamic approach every moment, thus making his playing helpful to soloists and interesting for listeners as well. Ake Persson has been Scandinavia's out-standing trombone player for about ten years. There are only a few trombonists in Europe who might match his talents at times, but they lack the consistency of his playing. He is impressive, whether playing in a big band, or whether main soloist in his own small groups. American musicians love the sound of his slide trombone and his easily flowing romantic improvisations, so he often joins American name-bands as they travel in Europe. The music speaks alone . . . , we said it before. You have your soul to feel the beauty, to follow lines and structure, and to enjoy the spiritual excitement. Whether you enjoy the flowing, easy sounding theme of "Please Don't Leave Me", or the climaxing piano solo in the same piece—the bass solo in "Waltz For Seth" or the swinging baritone sax—listen to the first bars of this solo and pay attention to Kenny. Whether you listen to "Campi's Idea", (named after Gigi Campi, the well known Cologne jazz enthusiast who organized this recording) with the romantic flute solo of Sahib, the interesting tempo changes, the piano comping, the moving trombone solo; or to the up-tempo "Herr Fixit", with the cooking Kenny and humorous, driving flute solo, you know that these six musicians where in the right mood, in the right stimulating surroundings to feel what we all feel when it's: SUMMER DAWN.

The Blues’ was B.B. King’s second Crown LP drawn from his RPM singles recorded between 1951-1958.

This album traces his early development into a world class artist. ‘The Blues’ used a single hit tune (in this case “When My Heart Beats Like a Hammer,” a Top Ten R&B chart entry in 1954)

to help sell a package of lesser-known material, but thankfully the label also picked some great tunes that hardly sound like filler, even if they didn’t make the charts.

King’s songwriting was already stellar, with “I Want to Get Married,” “Don’t You Want a Man Like Me,” and

“Ruby Lee” demonstrating his way with a melody and a lyrical conceit. ‘ The Blues’ demonstrates he was already near the top of his class.

The LP is extended with 2 bonus tracks.

For Dutch artist Stefan Vincent, the feeling of melancholy also offers the opportunity for beauty to be found. “Decay and loneliness can serve a purpose. Depression can teach you things. To feel deep sadness also means the ability to feel profound
emotions.” he says. With this in mind, his debut album on MUSAR Recordings, “Post- Melancholy”, unpacks the twists and turns of grappling with this emotion, drawing from breaks, electro and IDM to make his most intricate work to date, after previous releases on Token, Dynamic Reflection, Symbolism, and Non-Series. Throughout “Post-Melancholy” Vincent traces the wave of melancholy and how it moves through the body, which allows for lighter moments alongside darker moods. Perhaps the lightest track on the album is its acidic-breaks opener, “Eyes Unclouded”, with its soaring acid lines and dazzling synths, which acts as a false pretense for the rest of the album. Tracks like “Poise”, “Arpeggino” and the meditative “Yonghegong Lama Temple Exit F” also break up the intensity. However, nestled between the more pacey, bass-weighted tracks on the album, these lighter openings still feel like tear-jerkers.

The more common associations of melancholy show up on tracks like “Another Skin To Wear” and “You Know This Isn’t Going To End Well”, which all create a more ominous feel via IDM and the polyrhythmic structures of drum’n’bass. Particularly on “Another Skin To Wear”, which borrows its name from a Radiohead lyric, the track's swooping motion feels realistic to melancholy’s chaotic and often unpredictable path. But, like all great storytellers, Vincent leaves the most poignant moment of the album for last with the rolling “8AM on the Train… (For Maarten)” devoted to his dear friend, Maarten, who sadly passed away at the young age of 36. This LP is dedicated to Maarten de Vries (1986-2022)

Perhaps best described as a pioneer of the underground experimental scene, the signature of Jørgen Teller on the musical landscape of Denmark traces back to the late 1970’s. Sprung out of a whirlpool of post-punk and art school ideas, Teller has relentlessly been chiseling away on the constrictions of music in various bands, collaborations and solo projects ever since. Searching out its farthest outposts - be it free jazz, noise or acousmatic music - Teller has strived towards an approach to music without rules, often by way of improvisation and usually with the aid of electric guitar.

This album is based on a live performance held at the Inter Arts Center in Malmö in early 2022, where Teller performed a semi-improvised piece in homage to the poet Poul Borum, whom he had worked with in the mid-90’s closely before Borum’s death in 1996.

As a composer, Teller relies on a set of “basic choices” that becomes a “precise point of departure” - where he can then go against his “good knowing” of the science, trends and different schools of music and go straight into his own instincts as a performer. For this performance, he used pre- recorded material of three rhythm boxes (all out of sync), timbales and sessions on Erica synths.

In dialogue with the label, Teller has focused on extracting the recording of the rhythm boxes and timbales alone, emphasizing the tension between the rhythms. With minimalist drum sequences that could easily be placed in a proto-techno context, and the whooshing of what might be an ancient rhombus instrument, there is a feeling of a primitive presence to Teller’s rhythmic excursions. A throwback to the spiritual realms of a wordless society fighting the demons of chance.

Occasionally pierced by stark industrial drum crashes and rattling post-punk percussion, it also conjures echoes from the darker side of the 1980s. In citing Borum as its inspiration, Teller shares that he channels the poet’s energy and their shared love of “noisy stuff and darkness”.
But the pace can also go somewhere close to breakbeat on track B2, where a whirlwind of rhythmic elements clash into a deranged deconstructed club tune.

The album also features a remix by a fellow colleague of the acousmatic community; the composer Jacob Riis. On the closing track B3, Riis quietly manipulates and balances the elements of Teller’s recordings and gently releases them into a contemplative pool of static.

Permanent Parts is the second album released by visual artist Katharina Grosse (synthesizer) and musician Stefan Schneider (synthesizer; So Sner, To Rococo Rot). Grosse and Schneider were joined at Galerie Max Hetzler on 29 April 2023, performing as part of the Spectrum without Traces exhibition, by three artists who all generally work within improvised music – Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet), Tintin Patrone (trombone and electronics), and Billy Roisz (noise generator, piezo and mini cymbal). Permanent Parts is an extraordinary set of recordings that inhabits multiple zones at once: within its thirty-five minutes, we can hear the interactions of non-idiomatic collective music making, and the electronic glimmers of electro-acoustics, while, at the same time, the music remains untethered to genre.

This capacity to work within liminal zones makes perfect sense when thinking about both Grosse’s and Schneider’s prior work, whether the energetic diffusions and spatial explorations of Grosse’s artistic practice, or the slippery texturology of Schneider’s recent work with electronics. Khorkhordina, Patrone and Roisz all find their own ways into this dynamic, too, and Permanent Parts feels like an equal exchange of presence and contribution; there are no hierarchies here. This might explain the music’s curious sense of development, where several elements are allowed to exist alongside each other, not in direct contact but in a mode that’s somewhere between carefree layering and unconscious juxtaposition. The musicians are listening, but not just with their ears – their skin, their bodies are hearing, too.

When talking about Permanent Parts, Schneider is careful to place it within contexts that are specific, to some degree, but which allow for difference to blossom. “Although it was recorded live, it somehow was not meant to be a documentation of a live event in the first place. The five piece line up that appears on the record had met for the first time only a few hours before the concert took place.” While it might take a leap of faith for all parties to walk together, and so willingly, into a place of such freedom, of such risk, there is clear sympathy here between the musicians, and a shared appreciation of the immediacies of the situation.

It also throws some of our preconceptions about this music out of the window. “The record does not feel like a document of a performance as the music was not pre-composed and there was no reference,” Schneider continues. “Perhaps it was not even an improvisation?” For Grosse, her musical relationship with Schneider similarly shakes free from expectation: “My sound does not exist without Stefan’s. It is neither written down nor is it improvised. It is instantaneous.” When thinking about the five-piece exploration on Permanent Parts and asked to expand on what each musician brings to the table, she continues, “We all love the thrill of an unknown encounter and we seem to have a need for building connections through the thicket of our voices.”

There’s a curious phrase on the back cover of the album, before the artists are listed: “Wir sind eine Batterie / We are a battery.” This sums up the spirit of Permanent Parts. Schneider recalls that Grosse said this phrase to the musicians at the start of the performance. Grosse explains further, “The figure of the battery referred to our placement in the space building out a small circle facing one another from where the sound could spill into the impressive volume of the gallery.” The battery as an arrangement of similar devices; but I also think of charge, and the conversion of chemical energy, and of fortification. It’s a poetic metaphor that sums up much of the febrile pleasure of the music contained on these Permanent Parts.

– Jon Dale, Melbourne

Permanent Parts is the second album released by visual artist Katharina Grosse (synthesizer) and musician Stefan Schneider (synthesizer; So Sner, To Rococo Rot, Mapstation). Grosse and Schneider were joined at Galerie Max Hetzler on 29 April 2023, performing as part of the Spectrum without Traces exhibition, by three artists who all generally work within improvised music - Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet), Tintin Patrone (trombone and electronics), and Billy Roisz (noise generator, piezo and mini cymbal). Permanent Parts is an extraordinary set of recordings that inhabits multiple zones at once: within its thirty-five minutes, we can hear the interactions of non-idiomatic collective music making, and the electronic glimmers of electro-acoustics, while, at the same time, the music remains untethered to genre.

Mike Paradinas, veteran producer and Planet Mu label owner has written a new album called 'Grush' and it's full of weird bangers that reclaim the 'dance' part of the woeful term IDM. A back-to-first-principles record, inspired in part by the group of artists IDM was coined for; melodic dance music that didn't come out of urban scenes, but interpreted them from a distance. The tracks on 'Grush' are all road-tested live favorites developed with feedback from Mike's touring partner and visuals guy Mora (Jan Moravec). It's a detailed and energetic journey which replicates the flow of a live gig. A lot of the tracks have been made in hotel rooms in response to shows, 'Imperial Crescent' is named after a Japanese Hotel, as is 'Belvedere' in Prague, while some tracks such as 'Hyper Daddy' were created specifically to play live. Drums are confidently at the fore here and the album feels like it traces Mike's musical history and interests neatly around his sweetly nostalgic melodies, with atmospheres and structures which twist and turn with a charming softness which contrasts with the tension in the drums. Take 'Hyper Daddy's' spiralling notes and twinkling piano which remind one of early Black Dog or Omni Trio rushing alongside splashy jungle drums, or the aquatic acid footwork of the title track with its drums softly bubbling and kicking. Elsewhere there's territory which harks back to his Tusken Raiders pseudonym, like the heads down Drexciyan funk of 'Windsor Safari Park,' which transforms from moody electro into a sunny hardcore track midway. The album is interspersed with Reticulum A, B and C at the start middle and end of the album which suggest a theme which carries across the music in an effortless and joyful way. 'Grush' is a strong album that works both for listening and DJing and a great snapshot of where Mike Paradinas musical head is at in 2024.Tracklist Vinyl A: 1/Reticulum A 2/Hyper Daddy 3/Fogou B: 1/Magic Pony Ride (Pt.4) 2/Imperial Crescent 3/Reticulum B 4/Grush C: 1/Belvedere 2/Raver 3/Windsor Safari Park 4/Hastings D: 1/Manscape 2/Metaphonk 3/Reticulum C

Forrest Gump was the surprise hit of the 1994 summer movie season. The film traces the life of a half-wit through the major historical events of the 1950s, '60s, and '70s. It features Tom Hanks as the loveable Forrest Gump and Robin Wright (Claire Underwood in House Of Cards) as Forrest's insecure girlfriend Jenny.

Forrest Gump won six Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Actor in a Leading Role, Best Director, Best Visual Effects, Best Adapted Screenplay, and Best Film Editing.
The film garnered for seven Golden Globe Award nominations, winning three of them, including Best Actor - Motion Picture Drama, Best Director - Motion Picture, and Best Motion Picture - Drama. The film was also nominated for six Saturn Awards and won two for Best Fantasy Film and Best Supporting Actor (Film. The film also won the Outstanding Achievement in Special Effects award at the 1995 BAFTA Film Awards.

Forrest Gump received numerous other awards such as one win from the Screen Actors Guild Awards in its first year for Tom Hanks in a total of four nominations.

The film was selected for preservation by the Library of Congress in the United States National Film Registry in 2011, being deemed culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant'. The movie has made multiple American Film Institute lists including the quote Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.' ranking 40th on 100 Years...100 Movie Quotes. The film ranked 240 on Empire's list of the 500 Greatest Movies Of All Time. The chain of restaurants, Bubba Gump Shrimp Company opened based on the film, and has opened many locations since its founding.

The score was composed and conducted by Alan Silvestri and was nominated for Best Original Score in the 67th Academy Awards.

The legendary Score is now finally available on vinyl for the first time. The first pressing of 1.500 copies are pressed on 'Chocolate' coloured vinyl. You never know what you'rei
gonna get...

Forrest Gump was the surprise hit of the 1994 summer movie season. The film traces the life of a half-wit through the major historical events of the 1950s, '60s, and '70s. It features Tom Hanks as the loveable Forrest Gump and Robin Wright (Claire Underwood in House Of Cards) as Forrest's insecure girlfriend Jenny.

Forrest Gump won six Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Actor in a Leading Role, Best Director, Best Visual Effects, Best Adapted Screenplay, and Best Film Editing.
The film garnered for seven Golden Globe Award nominations, winning three of them, including Best Actor - Motion Picture Drama, Best Director - Motion Picture, and Best Motion Picture - Drama. The film was also nominated for six Saturn Awards and won two for Best Fantasy Film and Best Supporting Actor (Film. The film also won the Outstanding Achievement in Special Effects award at the 1995 BAFTA Film Awards.

Forrest Gump received numerous other awards such as one win from the Screen Actors Guild Awards in its first year for Tom Hanks in a total of four nominations.

The film was selected for preservation by the Library of Congress in the United States National Film Registry in 2011, being deemed culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant'. The movie has made multiple American Film Institute lists including the quote Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.' ranking 40th on 100 Years...100 Movie Quotes. The film ranked 240 on Empire's list of the 500 Greatest Movies Of All Time. The chain of restaurants, Bubba Gump Shrimp Company opened based on the film, and has opened many locations since its founding.

The score was composed and conducted by Alan Silvestri and was nominated for Best Original Score in the 67th Academy Awards.

The legendary Score is now finally available on vinyl for the first time. The first pressing of 1.500 copies are pressed on 'Chocolate' coloured vinyl. You never know what you'rei
gonna get...

Forrest Gump was the surprise hit of the 1994 summer movie season. The film traces the life of a half-wit through the major historical events of the 1950s, '60s, and '70s. It features Tom Hanks as the loveable Forrest Gump and Robin Wright (Claire Underwood in House Of Cards) as Forrest's insecure girlfriend Jenny.

Forrest Gump won six Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Actor in a Leading Role, Best Director, Best Visual Effects, Best Adapted Screenplay, and Best Film Editing.
The film garnered for seven Golden Globe Award nominations, winning three of them, including Best Actor - Motion Picture Drama, Best Director - Motion Picture, and Best Motion Picture - Drama. The film was also nominated for six Saturn Awards and won two for Best Fantasy Film and Best Supporting Actor (Film. The film also won the Outstanding Achievement in Special Effects award at the 1995 BAFTA Film Awards.

Forrest Gump received numerous other awards such as one win from the Screen Actors Guild Awards in its first year for Tom Hanks in a total of four nominations.

The film was selected for preservation by the Library of Congress in the United States National Film Registry in 2011, being deemed culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant'. The movie has made multiple American Film Institute lists including the quote Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.' ranking 40th on 100 Years...100 Movie Quotes. The film ranked 240 on Empire's list of the 500 Greatest Movies Of All Time. The chain of restaurants, Bubba Gump Shrimp Company opened based on the film, and has opened many locations since its founding.

The score was composed and conducted by Alan Silvestri and was nominated for Best Original Score in the 67th Academy Awards.

The legendary Score is now finally available on vinyl for the first time. The first pressing of 1.500 copies are pressed on 'Chocolate' coloured vinyl. You never know what you'rei
gonna get...

Max Jaffe wasn’t planning on creating an album commemorating the decade-plus he spent living in New York City while recording Reduction of Man. Operating as a preemptive elegy, Reduction of Man traces Jaffe’s musical trajectory while in New York City - a process of becoming fluent in several musical languages and cultures all at once, rather than the linear education of an MFA musician (which Jaffe also is). Jaffe’s second “solo” album finds him at the helm of an ensemble - leading the project as he plays: one hand drumming, the other composing and editing on the fly, shepherding multiple musical voices towards a single end - a sinewy tension between noise and groove.

’The Blues’ was B.B. King’s second Crown LP drawn from his RPM singles recorded between 1951-1958. This album traces his early development into a world class artist. ‘The Blues’ used a single hit tune (in this case “When My Heart Beats Like a Hammer,” a Top Ten R&B chart entry in 1954) to help sell a package of lesser-known material, but thankfully the label also picked some great tunes that hardly sound like filler, even if they didn’t make the charts. King’s songwriting was already stellar, with “I Want to Get Married,” “Don’t You Want a Man Like Me,” and “Ruby Lee” demonstrating his way with a melody and a lyrical conceit. ‘The Blues’ demonstrates he was already near the top of his class. The LP is extended with 2 bonus tracks.

Alliyah Enyo’s genius 2022 ‘Echo's Disintegration’ album infused William Basinski's "Disintegration Loops" with choral smoke, and she now returns with an even more immersive followup alongside ambient enigma and Kelela producer Florian T M Zeisig, making heady and translucent loop-finding vocal soundscapes.

In 2022, Enyo worked with the Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop on an epic two-hour composition made from tape loops inspired by selkies, mythical creatures in Celtic folklore. Contemplating memory, grief and time itself, Enyo devised a "sonorous myth" installation and performance that drowned her voice in the deep sea, using echo to help parallel the communication of humpback whales. It was powerful enough for her to net the award for Sonic Arts at the Scottish Awards for New Music last year, and it's this material that she revisits here, entering into a dialog with Berlin-based producer Florian T M Zeisig, here adopting a new avatar - Angel R.

On the A-side, Enyo distills two hours of the original composition into 11 haunted fragments that ooze in and out of each other like a dream. Reworked at Glasgow's Green Door studio, she sculpts her voice into weightless Radigue-style incantations, leaning into the tape loops' corroded inconsistencies. Enyo's voice becomes the selkie's song: wordless echoes that sound as if they're being dragged slowly towards the sea bed. There are remnants of folk forms in there; we hear traces of church music and Celtic ballads - but she obscures her influences with dubbed reverb, distortion and repetition. Phrases disappear and re-appear, time becomes a loop, best absorbed in a single sitting to properly perceive its graceful, sinking bliss. By the end of the side, Enyo’s vocals are completely waterlogged, dimmed against Robin Guthrie-like shimmers, all brassy, blurred incantations emanating from the depths of a floatation tank.

Florian T M Zeisig responds on the B-side with three flooded, longer-form pieces that will appeal to anyone who devoured his album of corroded Enya loops a couple of years ago. Enyo's voice is now reduced to a whisper, blistered and gauzy expressions that float over dense pads on 'Untitled I' before getting lost in the weeds completely on the muggy 'Untitled II'. On the closing 'Gates of Heaven', he sculpts Enyo's voice until it's just an illusory, hypnotic reflection, slow-fading into the aether.

The music of Will Griffith's The Great Dying is a mix he likes to call dark country. He grew up in Cleveland, Mississippi, where D.I.Y. punk house shows hooked him, and his early bands played The Farmhouse and legendary delta juke joint Po' Monkey's. Songs from The Great Dying's new album, A Constant Goodbye, were born from playing hundreds of shows supporting Bloody Noses & Roses (Dial Back Sound 2018), and it continues where the debut left off. The ballads are still sweet and menaced, the rockers are still hair-raisers, but the new record pushes in new directions, infusing sounds of classic country with faint traces of The Replacements and what was once called "alternative rock." The tracks are layered and varied: wall-of-sound arrangements grind against flange-bass and fiddle, with Griffith's barebones acoustic guitar and vocals at the root, and heartbreak all over. Coming from another artist, this blend of influences would tank, but somehow it suits The Great Dying just fine. Pick any number on the new album-it's a winner.

The 8-LP box set Miles At Newport 1955-1975 - The Bootleg Series Vol. 4 features of live performances by Miles’ stellar band lineups from 1955, 1958, 1966, 1967, 1969, 1971, 1973, and 1975, in New-
port, Rhode Island, New York City, Berlin, and Switzerland. From Miles’ debut performance at NJF in 1955 (a hastily arranged jam session featuring Thelonious Monk and Gerry Mulligan), to his final public performance of the ‘70s in 1975, the box set traces the ascen- dance of Miles’ music as the jazz superstar he has become known to be.

The full-length concert performances alone of Miles’ famed “Kind Of Blue” Sextet (with Cannonball Adderley, John Coltrane, Bill Evans, Paul Chambers, and Jimmy Cobb), and second great quintet in ‘66 and ‘67 (with Wayne Shorter, Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, and Tony Williams) represent templates that reverberate in jazz and popular music to this day.

Miles At Newport 1955-1975 - The Bootleg Series Vol. 4 is available as a deluxe 8LP box set, housed in a lift-off box. The set includes print- ed innersleeves, a mini poster of Miles, and a 12-page booklet with extensive liner notes and rare photos.

You could call Wishy's story a lucky one. After prior monikers and iterations, Wishy was born as a kaleidoscope of alternative music's semi-recent history, with traces of shoegaze, grunge and power-pop swirling together. On Triple Seven, Indiana songwriters Kevin Krauter and Nina Pitchkites' musical synergy proves itself to be a rare one-the kind that sounds like someone striking gold. Part sly wink and part warm gratitude, it's only fitting their much anticipated full length debut is titled Triple Seven, where Wishy's penchant for indelible hooks is couched equally in pillowy atmospherics and scathing distortion. By day Krauter works as a music teacher, giving drum and guitar lessons to students, while Pitchkites is a seamstress by trade and often makes embroidered merch for the band. Coming up in a scene defined by hardcore and emo, Krauter and Pitchkites instead found themselves writing melodies in their heads while driving to work, pulling music from the air and arriving at a blearier, more ethereal interpretation of Midwest expanse. Initially, their music oscillated between hazy dream-pop and heavier alt-rock. The subject of their songs create a loose web of vignettes and snapshots, capturing Krauter and Pitchkites in a whirlwind couple of years _ exiting the pandemic, embarking on an embryonic project, making sense of their musical pasts while forging a musical future alongside one another, each of them on a journey of self-acceptance and self-understanding. Sometimes gorgeous, sometimes festering, and always cathartic, Triple Seven is a vibrant and exhilarating document of self-discovery with the scope and heft of the bygone big-budget rock albums that inspired it.

You could call Wishy's story a lucky one. After prior monikers and iterations, Wishy was born as a kaleidoscope of alternative music's semi-recent history, with traces of shoegaze, grunge and power-pop swirling together. On Triple Seven, Indiana songwriters Kevin Krauter and Nina Pitchkites' musical synergy proves itself to be a rare one-the kind that sounds like someone striking gold. Part sly wink and part warm gratitude, it's only fitting their much anticipated full length debut is titled Triple Seven, where Wishy's penchant for indelible hooks is couched equally in pillowy atmospherics and scathing distortion. By day Krauter works as a music teacher, giving drum and guitar lessons to students, while Pitchkites is a seamstress by trade and often makes embroidered merch for the band. Coming up in a scene defined by hardcore and emo, Krauter and Pitchkites instead found themselves writing melodies in their heads while driving to work, pulling music from the air and arriving at a blearier, more ethereal interpretation of Midwest expanse. Initially, their music oscillated between hazy dream-pop and heavier alt-rock. The subject of their songs create a loose web of vignettes and snapshots, capturing Krauter and Pitchkites in a whirlwind couple of years _ exiting the pandemic, embarking on an embryonic project, making sense of their musical pasts while forging a musical future alongside one another, each of them on a journey of self-acceptance and self-understanding. Sometimes gorgeous, sometimes festering, and always cathartic, Triple Seven is a vibrant and exhilarating document of self-discovery with the scope and heft of the bygone big-budget rock albums that inspired it.

You could call Wishy's story a lucky one. After prior monikers and iterations, Wishy was born as a kaleidoscope of alternative music's semi-recent history, with traces of shoegaze, grunge and power-pop swirling together. On Triple Seven, Indiana songwriters Kevin Krauter and Nina Pitchkites' musical synergy proves itself to be a rare one-the kind that sounds like someone striking gold. Part sly wink and part warm gratitude, it's only fitting their much anticipated full length debut is titled Triple Seven, where Wishy's penchant for indelible hooks is couched equally in pillowy atmospherics and scathing distortion. By day Krauter works as a music teacher, giving drum and guitar lessons to students, while Pitchkites is a seamstress by trade and often makes embroidered merch for the band. Coming up in a scene defined by hardcore and emo, Krauter and Pitchkites instead found themselves writing melodies in their heads while driving to work, pulling music from the air and arriving at a blearier, more ethereal interpretation of Midwest expanse. Initially, their music oscillated between hazy dream-pop and heavier alt-rock. The subject of their songs create a loose web of vignettes and snapshots, capturing Krauter and Pitchkites in a whirlwind couple of years _ exiting the pandemic, embarking on an embryonic project, making sense of their musical pasts while forging a musical future alongside one another, each of them on a journey of self-acceptance and self-understanding. Sometimes gorgeous, sometimes festering, and always cathartic, Triple Seven is a vibrant and exhilarating document of self-discovery with the scope and heft of the bygone big-budget rock albums that inspired it.