Cerca:unknown thoughts

Kin-Ben LABEL's latest production definitely comes as a pinnacle of its catalogue. It includes deep, heavy, driven, hypnotic tracks by Unknown Thoughts, who is an unidentified producer, and an exceptional remix by Evigt Morker.

The Danish/Norwegian duo of Ida Urd and Ingri Høyland believe that music is an extension of one’s immediate sensory environment. Duvet, their collaborative full-length debut, explores the way that creating sounds together is intertwined with various quotidian actions: establishing surroundings, rearranging furniture, moving towards the light, collecting flowers or other objects for aesthetic and sensuous impulses. Through a quiet and attentive process, music becomes a way of nurturing space: a soft architecture for play, writing, care, or simply rest.

Sonically, Duvet feels like an extension of Høyland’s last album, 2023’s Ode to Stone, which also featured Urd along with ambient musician Sofie Birch and visual artist Lea Guldditte Hestelund. But where that album, created in response to an open call for work themed around Denmark’s national parks, suggested rolling landscapes and endless horizons, Duvet turns inward, countering chill winds with glowing warmth. Its eight tracks seek a balance between abstraction and melody, intention and happenstance.

“We had a truly inspiring and rewarding process working with Birk Gjerlufsen Nielsen from Vanessa Amara, who co-produced and mixed the album with us,” Ingri adds. “He approached the material with great care and sensitivity, while also bringing his own distinct presence and creativity into the sound.”

Høyland and Urd both studied at the Rhythmic Music Conservatory in Copenhagen, which has turned out many acclaimed artists over the past few years, including Erica de Casier, Astrid Sonne, and Smerz. Over many years, the two composers have developed a collaborative method based on connection and trust. A practice, they write, “where composing, or rather suggesting, sounds and melodies for one another is a way of carefully talking, mending emotions and obstacles. Saying yes to one another. The compositional space becomes a nest for entangling whatever emotions, thoughts, or barriers one of the composers brings to the given day or moment.”

Quiet and contemplative, Duvet is simple on the surface but rich in timbral, textural, and emotional complexity. Høyland and Urd sourced their sounds from an array of instruments and techniques—electronic devices, modules, pedals, and also electroacoustic treatments of various wind instruments.

Mixing primarily through analog tape units added further mystery and depth, weaving together wordless voices and unknown sounds—breathing, rustling, perhaps the coppery gleam of Urd’s electric bass—into a dynamic matrix. Like a nest, pull one twig and the whole thing unravels.

In the winter of 2023, Ingri Høyland and Ida Urd retreated to a summer house along the coast to create the album. Picture the scene: an abiding quiet all around. Gardens carpeted by snow; beach grass silvery against the silvery sky; a tendril of smoke rising from the chimney. Not another soul in earshot. This sanctuary was the perfect setting to yield this meditation on shelter, trust, and communication. The two composers hope the album can be a similar space for others—a temporary space of residence, it can represent a summerhouse, a cabin in the woods, your favorite bench or wherever you need to go. “The album also works really well when picking out apples in the supermarket” Urd laughs.

Gwenan takes us on an unusual excursion on her new EP, marking the sixth release on Snaretrade Records. Through four windows, we peek into scenes from an unknown script, cleverly disguised as club fare. The A-side starts out bustling and hasty, then takes us out for a melancholy moment in the sun. The B-side has us pause at home in a little skit brewed on a modular rig, before sliding off into the depth of night, where brooding thoughts come out to show their teeth. A remarkable and playful journey, in which Gwenan pays homage to her favourite author, with nods to her youth growing up in Wales.

Is it really into the unknown? Lewis Fautzi is once again with us, in his own imprint, and everytime he is around we feel deeply appreciated. It means that, although there's a guide line that immediately identifies his work as his, he also opens a little bit more to us. Every EP is like a step further into his own mind, a breach to the deepness of his intrusive thoughts and ideas. All the words would be useless if we tried to describe this one. The tracks are self explainable and were meticulously created as that is part of his trademark. And regarding the first question we can only answer yes, it is really into the unknown. Or at least into something of his we have never experienced before. And perhaps after listening to it we'll be able to know him and understand his work a little bit better than before.

What comprises a dream?

An astral plane of our own making where thoughts, love, and desires of the inner mind abound with irreverence - ripe with connection & perspective beyond constraints of time, set, and setting.

Azu Tiwaline exists within the wonders of these interstitial worlds, diving deeper towards inner sanctums of mystic imagination, sublime intrigue, & profound understanding on her second full length LP “The Fifth Dream”.

Released again through her beloved partnership with I.O.T Records, “The Fifth Dream” finds Azu painting an expansive vision towards unified multitudes, mercurial realities, & abundant inner sanctums.

Where her first album “Draw Me a Silence” was a loving ode to her family & upbringing in the form of an elegant diptych, “The Fifth Dream" is the enactment of actualizing her roots into new routes, taking her multifaceted identity into new means of communication towards herself, the world, & the cosmic unknowns that surround her.

Throughout The Fifth Dream’s 54-minute runtime, we hear all elements of the uniquely transcendental sound that Azu is beloved for worldwide. “Antennae Opening”, “Blowing Flow”, & “Amen Dub” embody her talents for tectonic, dubwise soundscapes that channel the innately maternal elements of bassweight into bold & abstracted pulsations, indebted to the most psychedelic & body activating ends of dubstep.

Still attuned to the spatial awareness of dub sonics but giving way to the hypnotic syncopation & synaptic frequencies of techno, “Reptilian Waves”, “Long Hypnosis”, & “Mei Long” bring forth her spectacular expertise for entheogenic rave rhythms - guiding us warmly towards trance-inducing hyper states of dance & delight. Fluctuating between an adventurous velocity and enveloping stasis, the expansive abyssal planes of “Golden Dawn”, “Night in Palm Tree”, & “Canope Imaginaire” conjures a wondrously invigorating rhythmic enlightenment & celestial comprehension - simultaneously moving us forward, inwards, & outwards through Azu’s uniquely omnidirectional & kaleidoscopic musical visions.

Adorned with sampled field recordings of her deeply inspiring home in the desert of El Djerid in South Tunisia, Azu opens a portal into the synergistic inner sanctums of being, self, and the world around us that’s essential to her work as an artist - from the macro levels of humanity’s naturally intimate connection to the Earth we share, down to each of our own micro levels of culture, ancestry, and belonging. All of this is alchemized through a combination of timeless Saharan knowledge & modern cybernetic tools, creating new dimensions of bewitching, euphonious sonic energy. This is music that gives back as much as the listener wants to give themselves unto it - detailed and layered, orbiting a steady core as ethereal swirls and intonations of the natural world embrace us warmly within a spellbinding journey.

8 of the album’s 9 tracks feature a deep level of collaboration from innovative Franco-Iranian percussionist Cinna Peyghamy. Cinna’s use of Tombak, the principle drum of Iranian music throughout time, is beautifully sonorous - channeling the passion of centuries of Southwest Asian rhythm & expression into his own personalized flourishes, with Azu adding her own electrifying frequencies & undiluted artistic freedom to their shared interplay. This profoundly communicative diasporic essence is transmuted between Azu & Cinna, their expression, & the listener. Both are music lovers, intimately connected to their respected Iranian and Tunisian cultures - concurrently acknowledging the wisdom of their resonant pasts, while proudly bringing the sounds of their heritage into the present & future.

“The Fifth Dream” embodies a cosmic anodyne for those feeling caught in between life’s abyssal inbetweens, whilst aiming for a consonant awareness of where our home truly lies in the swells of life’s spiritual maelstrom. This dream belongs at once to none & to many, that of a common language unified in concentric depth - finding beauty in all aspects of our world, and ultimately, within oneself.

Cognitive Prophecy returns for its second instalment with Skatman - and his ‘Superstitious Thoughts’ EP - a diverse 5-track deep dive into the label head’s current vision on melodic electronic music.

“Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?” This quote from a poem by Edgar Allan Poe sums up the lamenting, primal work that is "All That We See or Seem"; a project conceived between Finland, England and Brazil. The self-titled album consists of two long-form pieces of droning mysticism hailing from the trio of Gruth (concept, production, electronics), Ellen Southern (vocals, field recordings, percussion) and Johanna Puuperä (violin, modular synthesizer, additional vocals).

The album opens straight into a thousand yard stare with “Myrskymielellä", adapted from a 1891 poem by the Finnish national poet, Eino Leino, who wrote it at the tender age of 13. Here a blank distant droning of synths and the sounds of flowing water hover underneath like a dark river observed from the air. This is a sound and feeling that will stay constant for the entirety of the piece´s thirty minute duration. It is a trance-inducing composition that slowly unfolds elements of pagan ancestry into its own life. At first, faint female vocals are introduced as distant spatial elements, which gradually advance into waves of cries and anguish as the piece progresses and moves further into the storm. The tranquility of the first half is slowly morphed into a full blown ceremony as driving ritualistic percussion and a foreboding witch-like presence shifts the piece into a Dead Can Dance-like territory. Here a constant enveloping mixture of violins, modular synths, field recordings and vocal screams creates the feeling of a grande finale. It is an astounding piece of music that develops like a drone symphony for the beginning of time.

With the second piece, “A Dream Within A Dream”, from Edgar Allan Poe´s 1849 poem, you are transported to the shores of an undisclosed island; a place where it´s only you, your thoughts and the endless emptiness. The continual sound of waves is soon brought together with a cloud of synths and mourning violins that will keep a steady dreamlike state during most of the piece´s duration. This time the wordless vocals feel almost angelic in their pageantry. The composition flows like a slow caress of the soul and feels like the spirit twin of Gavin Bryars' “The Sinking of the Titanic” with its lamenting slow movements towards the unknown.

Truly a ghost of a record, “All That We See or Seem” is an experience hard to shake and feels like entering sacred ground. We are in a place surrounded by earth, both ancient and present. "Let loose, Vanha, the rage of an earthly storm! Detach the elements, completely open the sky! In the Earth, let an incessant storm prevail, so that in my chest I would not feel the miserable pain” - Eino Leino

Doomed Utility is the debut album by Alex Wang, a bass-heavy, noisy, and abstract work that blends industrial and club music into an unsettling soundscape.

Sound existed before there were human ears to hear it—ancient and eternal, as silence itself. In the first few hundred thousand years after our cosmos was born, a deep hum traveled through a plasma of hot particles, eventually finding its way into our machines. Now, computers weave a web of sound around us, abstracting from meaning, pleasure, or melody, crafting disharmonies that dig into us raw.

In Doomed Utility, that primordial hum resurfaces—fractured, raw, and discordant—pulling us into rhythms of exhaustion, exhilaration, and annihilation.

This is a sound that doesn’t merely enter us; it claims us. It lingers, waits—hungry. It tears through cognition and rips through bodies. We may have no obvious use for it, but it has a use for us.

Computer sound perpetuates itself through our ears, our thoughts, and our human culture. It recalls all things, binds all things, moves all things. We are its resources, its vessels for messages not yet decoded, and for purposes yet unknown.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Repress!

There was huge demand on the first issue - now released in a standard edition. Limited. Be Quick!

Hot double LP of beats and scattered rhymes (JPEGMAFIA, Retro X & Jeshi feature) from this highly inventive producer. Having gained notoriety for his work with Frank Ocean and Travis Scott among others, Only Diamonds Cut Diamonds is overjoyed, heady and nervous at once. It offers a proper introduction to the massively imaginative sound of Vegyn.

It's been nearly a decade since Montreal's PYPY (pronounced like 'π π'...with a long 'i' rather than long 'e', thank you very much) landed with their debut Pagan Day (Slovenly), but the same lunatics behind CPC Gangbangs, Red Mass and Duchess Says are back with Sacred Times on Goner Records. One might recall the thunderous pop of their banger "She's Gone" carving out a place for itself in the high-end fashion world, becoming the soundtrack to Yves Saint Laurent's 2016 show. If that album bounced, punched and clawed like Delta 5 covered in dirt and trying to get somewhere in a booted vehicle while dodging lightning rod guitar licks the whole way, Sacred Times takes things to somewhere far beyond the proverbial "next level."

Co-vocalist/founder/multi-instrumentalist Annie-Claude Deschênes' (Duchess Says) signature howl and vocal acrobatics are present but so is a tendency towards beautiful melodies. Bassist Philippe Clement's (Duchess Says) brings a nastier bottom end that locks onto Simon Besré's drumming with a death grip for the entire affair. And guitarist/co-vocalist Roy Vucino (Red Mass, CPC Gangbangs, Black Leather Rose, Les Sexareenos, a gazillion others) goes bonkers with wildass blown-out guitar that's like hornets caught in yr hair.

"Lonely Striped Sock" grooves along like "Earthbeat"-era Slits/ESG until the chorus transforms PYPY into something else entirely. Something huge. Something with monster riffs and wah wah that pins you to the back wall. So there is clearly a brilliance with dynamics here, and it proves to be a not-so-secret-weapon that repays the "ear-vestment" in dividends throughout. "Ear-vestment"? Yikes. Then it's time for "She's Back," a sort of part 2/continuation (maybe a trilogy is in the works?) of Pagan Day's best-known gem (the aforementioned "She's Gone"). This one packs a hook that'll make your brain take out a restraining order. Looking for lost keys? Jury duty? Underwater welding? Negotiating a hostage situation? It doesn't matter...nothing will stop it from invading your thoughts. They say the only way to get a song unstuck from the noodle is to listen to it from start to finish, but you'll be doing that anyway. A lot. "Erase" is a (synth) noise-punk nugget; revealing a need for Brainiac-meets-Blondie we didn't know we had...deceptively kicking off with a no-fi drum machine that is immediately lost in the massive pop din that seemingly includes everything within reach. "Poodle Escape" is two minutes of perfect (and perfectly distorted) synth-punk and "I Am A Simulation" – with lead vox from Vucino – is yet another hit that deviates from the noise a bit and pays homage to both Devo and classic late-70's (big) power-pop (ex: the first Cars LP), but with a manic nature that is 150% circa right now. "15 Sec" (actually 3:38 in duration, thankfully) serves up a stanky-brown bass line, Deschênes' gorgeous vocals, wonderfully combative white hot, pin-the-meters Oh Sees/early Comets on Fire guitar rips, and a stunning coda that seems to utilize everything great about this band over its final minute. The album's title track is a love letter to Hawkwind in the musical language already established here. "Vanishing Blinds" is like being chased through the rain-soaked streets in an unknown dystopian nightmare from 40+ years ago. The album closes with the brooding if not playful menace of "Poodle Escape,” which, like its predecessors, is completely unlike every track before it.

The phenomenal three-piece band includes members of Oranssi Pazuzu, K-X-P, Grave Pleasures and Aavikko


Svart Records is proud to release the debut album, I, from Haunted Plasma, a powerhouse of futuristic synth in symbiosis with the super violent atmospherics of kosmische Black Metal. Haunted Plasma is “man meets machine” in a cybernetic wasteland, set to a conceptual backdrop of William Gibson and Phillip K. Dick style mind-melt. The highly evolved creatives at the heart of Haunted Plasma’s sound, cite Terry Riley, Massive Attack, a contemporary take on Krautrock hypnosis, psychedelic Black Metal and 90s Techno, resulting in an orgy of mutant sound.



The phantoms at the beating nucleus of this unearthly machine are Juho Vanhanen (Oranssi Pazuzu, Grave Pleasures), Timo Kaukolampi (K-X-P, Op:l Bastards) and Tomi Leppänen (Circle, Aavikko, K-X-P), transmitting a music form evolved from a life of redefining sonic boundaries in their respective projects. Also featuring guest vocals from Mat McNerney (Hexvessel, Carpenter Brut, Grave Pleasures/Beastmilk), Pauliina Lindell (Vuono, Dust Mountain) and Ringa Manner (Ruusut, The Hearing). Haunted Plasma promises an extraterrestrial experience from some of the foremost contemporary musicians at the heart of the Finnish heavy and avant-garde musical underworld.



Haunted Plasma reveals:

“We are liberated futurists, embracing free-form and natural composition, mirroring the merciless forces of cosmic creation. We have a motto to stay true to our feelings, to spawn a sound that’s never been heard before. Servants of music. Energizing, radical and pure”


The first single from Haunted Plasma’s cascading debut, Reverse Engineer, is a creepy, slowly erupting, synthetic nightmare, of a downloaded being waking up in the wrong future. Ghostly vocals demand the listener to “give us what we want” in an Orwellian glimpse into the current dystopia we live in, where information is controlled, and thoughts are bought and sold. As McNerney intones the words “technology of power” he describes the threat of a malevolent and omnipresent artificial intelligence, as much as describing the oppressive and electromagnetic sonar pulse of Haunted Plasma’s sound itself. Psychedelic guitar hypnosis from Vanhanen snakes around Kaukolampi’s molten and morphing synths, while Leppänen’s uncanny man/machine rhythms pull our strings and animate their other-worldly mechanisms. Have a look at the official visualiser of "Reverse Engineer" on the Svart YouTube channel here


Culminating in the full-blown fast Krautrock of the final self-titled track, oozing with blistering noise elements and enigmatic vocals from Ringa Manner, the album's journey reaches its zenith, taking you to unknown territories on a Kubrikian space trip. I is a rare record of talented musicians coming together to create a completely new sound, which is entirely their own, boldly glowing, where no light has shone before. From the dreamy psychedelia of Echoes to the discombobulated Spectral Embrace, Haunted Plasma is a willful force of deliberate sound contortion.


Whether you want to give in to Haunted Plasma’s sound or not, you are being watched, you are being recorded and your every move is monitored. Haunted Plasma will enter your system on the 31st of May 2024. Turn on your phantom circuits and be prepared for an interdimensional excursion into Haunted Plasma’s alien dreams.

The debut album from Haunted Plasma will be packaged in a beautiful tip-on sleeve, swirling fog artwork, complete with 12” booklet and pressed on 3 exclusive vinyl colours: 300 copies on Standard Black Wax, 500 copies in Amber + Black Smoke and 200 copies of Svart exclusive Turquoise/Black Marble. The album will also be available on CD and digital platforms.

Read any article or comment thread about the Seattle noise-rock outfit GREAT FALLS and you're likely to see descriptors like cathartic, heavy, crushing, and unhinged. Maybe even psychotic. And sure, those are all apt: For over a decade, vocalist/guitarist Demian Johnston and bassist Shane Mehling (who also played together in the early-2000s noisecore band PLAYING ENEMY and the experimental duo HEMINGWAY) have honed their sludgy, overwhelmingly intense brand of heaviness, punctuated by delectably discordant riffs, terrifyingly low, thwacking bass lines, and mesmerizingly tight percussion. In the live setting, too, they’re notorious for a stage presence that is so aggressively confrontational and menacing that Mehling once broke his own arm mid-set.

But the most striking aspect of GREAT FALLS, setting them apart from the murky sea of sludge metal and AmRep-inspired noise-rock bands, is their ability to paint a deeply, utterly human story through an all-out assault on the senses: an art the band has perfected on their fourth full-length album OBJECTS WITHOUT PAIN, out September 15 via NEUROT RECORDINGS.

The album is not only their NEUROT debut, but also the first LP featuring drummer Nickolis Parks (GAYTHEIST, BASTARD FEAST), who joined the band prior to the release of their exhilarating, cacophonous 2023 EP,FUNNY WHAT SURVIVES.

OBJECTS WITHOUT PAIN takes us on a bleak, purgative journey through a separation–a snapshot of the turmoil and indecision that occurs after the initial realization of someone's misery, and before the ultimate decision to end a decades-long partnership. From the foreboding intro riffs of “DRAGGED HOME ALIVE” to the end of the 13-minute closer “THROWN AGAINST THE WAVES,” its eight tracks explore the thoughts that come up when a person is staring down the barrel of blowing up their life: How did this happen? Is it too late for a new life? Will the kid be OK? What will make me happier: familiar torment or unknown freedom?

"BAKI is the hit series produced by TMS Entertainment and airing from 2018 on Netflix.

Here at last is its smashing soundtrack composed by Kenji Fujisawa, fully remastered in vinyl format in a translucent red 3LP edition!

The vinyl edition includes:

- A beautifully illustrated gatefold sleeve

- 3xLP in three illustrated sleeves

- A 4-page booklet

60 tracks, 3 xLP translucent red

Entirely remastered for the vinyl format

Gatefold with 3 illustrated sleeves

Composed by Kenji Fujisawa

PRODUCED BY BAKI AND BAKI II FILM PARTNERS

© KEISUKE ITAGAKI(AKITASHOTEN)/BAKI FILM PARTNERS AND BAKI II FILM PARTNERS ALL RIGHTS RESERVED”

Read any article or comment thread about the Seattle noise-rock outfit GREAT FALLS and you're likely to see descriptors like cathartic, heavy, crushing, and unhinged. Maybe even psychotic. And sure, those are all apt: For over a decade, vocalist/guitarist Demian Johnston and bassist Shane Mehling (who also played together in the early-2000s noisecore band PLAYING ENEMY and the experimental duo HEMINGWAY) have honed their sludgy, overwhelmingly intense brand of heaviness, punctuated by delectably discordant riffs, terrifyingly low, thwacking bass lines, and mesmerizingly tight percussion. In the live setting, too, they’re notorious for a stage presence that is so aggressively confrontational and menacing that Mehling once broke his own arm mid-set.

But the most striking aspect of GREAT FALLS, setting them apart from the murky sea of sludge metal and AmRep-inspired noise-rock bands, is their ability to paint a deeply, utterly human story through an all-out assault on the senses: an art the band has perfected on their fourth full-length album OBJECTS WITHOUT PAIN, out September 15 via NEUROT RECORDINGS.

The album is not only their NEUROT debut, but also the first LP featuring drummer Nickolis Parks (GAYTHEIST, BASTARD FEAST), who joined the band prior to the release of their exhilarating, cacophonous 2023 EP,FUNNY WHAT SURVIVES.

OBJECTS WITHOUT PAIN takes us on a bleak, purgative journey through a separation–a snapshot of the turmoil and indecision that occurs after the initial realization of someone's misery, and before the ultimate decision to end a decades-long partnership. From the foreboding intro riffs of “DRAGGED HOME ALIVE” to the end of the 13-minute closer “THROWN AGAINST THE WAVES,” its eight tracks explore the thoughts that come up when a person is staring down the barrel of blowing up their life: How did this happen? Is it too late for a new life? Will the kid be OK? What will make me happier: familiar torment or unknown freedom?

Black cloud is descending – Black Magic Six set to release their fifth album in September, new single Blood of Babylon out now The title of Black Magic Six’s upcoming album Black Cloud Descending really sums up the mood and thoughts of its creators during the album making process. It tells stories of constant escaping, accepting defeat, destinies of outcasts, failures, and drunks. Tales of the wiser, exaggerated lies, vague rumours, fuzzy states of mind and suspicious circumstances – even the thought in the back of your head about the possibility of redemption while standing on the edge of the cliff right before falling in; it’s all there. The album’s first single Blood of Babylon is a garage rocking song about Sam Berkowitz’s relationship with Sam Carr’s speaking dog. Lyrical themes of the upcoming album are moving between reality and the imaginary world; remembering the moments at Belo Horizonte, how to use the powder that protects you from the evil eye, how it felt to wonder in the same alleyways with the werewolf of Istanbul or diving to safety to the bottom of a pond in Northern Savo. Listen Blood of Babylon here: https://youtu.be/S7mEujUIlrw Musically the album is on a narrow path. All the sounds heard on Black Cloud Descending are produced by Taskinen and Motherfuckin’ Japa. Sure, there are two exceptions; the gong heard in the end of Werewolf of Istanbul was recorded by Sakke Koivula at his home and the church bells in the outro of Full House Blues are ringed by unknown. Previous albums of BM6 had lots of guests playing guitar, percussions, harmonica, and visiting singers. People that one could call actual musicians. These past albums have had a softer, more versatile, and maybe even a livelier touch to them. This time around there’s only the core; the percussionist and the singing guitar player. The result is more raw, rugged, and rougher than before. Black Cloud Descending is out on September 1st on vinyl, CD, and digital platforms. The album was produced, recorded, and mixed by Mitro Kylliäinen at Kung Fu Audio along with BM6 during 2022-2023. Original art used for the album cover was made by Greger Grönholm. The band will play selected live shows to celebrate the new album in Finland, Germany, Denmark, and Spain. Dates of these gigs will be announced closer to the release date of the album.

“As I walk between the shadows I can see my full light” is the mantra and story Anna Vs June tells on “Ersi”, her debut on Subject To Restrictions Discs.

It is about personal thoughts and experiences on topics like faith and motherhood. Beginning with “As I Walk” as the clumsy state of any beginning, it continues with “Between The Shadows” where Anna relives her years as a teenager.

Continuing the narrative with “I Can See”, we listen to what it was like to grow up, finally ending with the yearning acceptance of the unknown on “My Full Light”. Anna Vs June’s musical language is based on her exploration of traditional Greek music, which she learns and whose characteristics she reinterprets in her own production. This album was produced in Anna’s studio in Athens during the months of lockdown.

Somewhere in the Lower-Franconian vineyards lies a hidden and mostly unknown canyon, a place that often returns to the thoughts and dreams of Läuten der Seele’s Christian Schoppik. Though a much rarer occurrence now as a consequence of environmental change, chance encounters upon the area in the past would sometimes reveal small ponds amongst the reeds, teeming with life and populated by colonies of newts and the now endangered yellow bellied toad. The transience of the water and the wildlife it hosts, dependent on season or climate, lends the area an almost fantastical, dream-like quality. Was it ever even there at all? A secret place that may or may not be present holds vast appeal to some enquiring minds… Ertrunken Im Seichtesten Gewässer, the third Läuten der Seele album in two years, is inspired directly by these experiences. Translating as ‘drowned in the shallowest stretch of water’, a title as pregnant with dread as it is wonder, the themes present speak both to personal memories and a wider understanding of place and time, and how we might interpret our own position within an ever-changing, sometimes disappearing world.

The record is presented as two long-form pieces divided into four separate movements, each titled so as to reflect this natural environment and its intersection with imagination, relying on processes of collage that draw from myriad indeterminable samples, field recordings and various recorded instruments. Those familiar with Schoppik’s work, both as Läuten der Seele and with Brannten Schnüre, will find present many of his signature tropes - the way deeply layered collages render abstracted visions of the past alive in the present - though what is always significant about his approach is not so much aesthetic as the wider concepts it attempts to express and emote. Indeed, emotional response is key to the Läuten der Seele sound, how overlapping notions of nostalgia, memory and identity calibrate experience and understanding of who we are and the world around us, whether it’s a world that’s gone or another imagined into being. If you observe the artwork closely enough, you may find a clue as to the canyon’s location, though such specifics are besides the point. The music itself infers a wider sense of the impermanence that characterises hidden worlds, wherever they might be or whoever they might belong to.

Born of a thousand nights lost in a surrender to stillness and contemplation, In The Air is Anna St. Louis’ second full length album and her most considered work yet. St. Louis’ debut If Only There Was a River seemed to emerge fully formed out of the recesses of her mind; a gritty, mesmerizing affair, filled with jagged edges and ghostly apparitions. The type of record that announces a new voice; one haunted by what has come before.

But this time, St. Louis is no longer concerned with what could have been and sets her sights to exploring what could be. It’s an outlook on the world that was formed when her immediate one was small. The intervening years since her last album found St. Louis in a small one-bedroom cabin in the middle of the woods of upstate New York with a new love and time to think of what she wanted to express with her music. For weeks on end, the only trips she took were to and from her job as the front desk clerk at a nearby hotel. The previous years she had spent on tour and performing constantly in the venues of Los Angeles felt like they had occurred in another lifetime.

“It really compelled me to surrender to the unknown,” she says. And in this surrender, she found liberation. St. Louis is more self-assured, open-hearted and ready to say what she wants. St. Louis describes the writing period as one of a slow harvest; a fertile time but one that required a newfound patience. Instead of documenting her first thoughts, she spent more time with each song, going deeper with the themes and ideas she wanted to express.

This slower approach also guided the sonic textures of the album. Working with producer Jarvis Taveniere (Purple Mountains, Woods) in two extended recording sessions in Los Angeles in 2021, St. Louis used the studio in a previously unexplored way, opening up her songs to more experimentation featuring brighter tones and a more orchestral sound to accompany her new perspective. To that end, she was aided by a cast of friends and collaborators including Jess Williamson, Kacey Johansing, Oliver Hill (Kevin Morby, Vagabon) on strings, Alex Fischel (Spoon) on piano, Josh Adams on drums (Bedouine, Tim Heidecker) and Keven Lareau (Cut Worms, Hand Habits).

In the Air has the sound of a joyous consideration of the present moment; a quiet morning revealing a new snowfall outside, steam coming from the kettle, just before it whistles, St. Louis with her guitar, staring out the window, with a few free hours before work. She’s reflecting on the scene in front of her, imagining the times yet to come. You can hear it; she’s a long way from the noisy bars of Los Angeles, the rigors of the road. As she intones in “Rest”: “You spend your whole life believing in the chase. And then you realize that being somewhere doesn’t matter like it used to.” She doesn’t need a river to carry her anymore ... She’s in the air.

#PF005 ITRIA VOL.3 is a slow techno-inspired cosmic journey that condenses in a single orbit a great cast of artists coming from different galaxies. It marks an evolution in sound and mood, taking us to a deeper and more visceral dimension.
The first track by Interstellar Funk is a 100% pure electronic mind-trip, a machined groove where thoughts still roam frenetically paves the way for a more intimate experience.
Tamburi Neri’s downtempo track shapes a space-time portal in which to sink; their sound is like a beat echoing from the bottom of the chest and spreading to the tips of the fingers softly.
For the first time, Salamanda co-works with Polifonic framing a Korean unknown soundscape, an ambient loop track through which we break away from this dimension and move towards the exotic.
Hiver restore a connection with reality through their pulsating bass. The heartbeat speeds up, but we still float into a dreamy techno atmosphere.
Claudio PRC & ZIPPO come into play with a powerful combination of techno textures that gets us to resurface and awaken the senses.

Tresor Records is proud to announce 333 Mirrors from Torus, the artist alias of Joeri Woudstra. Coupled with its catalogue number
333, it indicates the large-scale conceptual thoughts behind the record, typical of Woudstra's practice. As an artist, he sets out to
frame re-interpretable references that trigger some subconscious recognition in listeners, with no set way to interpret them but leading to singular feelings and thought processes. The eect, a combination of static electronic sounds and looser field recordings, speaks to each listener differently.

333 Mirrors is, in part, the continuation of a project called These Cars Do Not Exist, made with videographer Mark Prendergast during the Covid-19 limbo. The live performed short film sold out selected popup cinemas in 2020 in a short sprint of shows. Two of the tracks on that project, Sound of the Drums and Chroniko, are re-imagined on 333 Mirrors, emanating as versions created in live performances. Set to be released as a single, Chroniko VIP will be accompanied by an enduring theme from that project, the three-winged bird, this time deceased. On 333 Mirrors, in exploring the ambient, stretched sonic universe of this project more, Woudstra moves from these three winged birds to the phoenix, finding a rebirth on the b-side with tracks that inhabit a similar sound as Deep Mid, Torus's inclusion on the recent Tresor 30 compilation. The sound of Torus places importance on the multi-faceted approach to sampling, pushing the idea behind the practice beyond usual boundaries. How to break the unwritten rules? Woudstra looks within by resampling previous Torus releases and reverse-engineering the sounds of the most revered pop and electronic musicians alive today, references that trigger recognition, melancholy and nostalgia in the listener.

3000 Mirrors features a staccato arpeggiating rigid pattern, the sonic eect of standing in front of a strobe until it becomes the anchor. Silence and interruption are used as a device to explore the physically uncomfortable, more the central compositional tool than the disrupted harmonic structures. Woudstra has never stepped foot in Tresor, so when writing this record, an enduring question spoke to him, what is Tresor when you have never been? How do you sample the essence of an unknown location? The closing track, Omnia, is the sound of anticipation, where the rave beckons. This imagined industrial space is calling for you.

Straight from the fertile imagination of Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs guitarist Sam Grant comes Rubber Oh - a place where an irreverent magpie spirit has its way with the eternal psych-pop continuum. ‘Little Demon’ is the first sample of this fresh foray - a bass-driven, blissed out mantra that sets out its stall where the travails of the everyday fade into the transcendental realm of the astral plane. A whole new box of sonic delights from a curious and artful talent, this track maps out a refreshing new landscape on which shameless melodic suss and wayward aural eccentricity lock horns. Some may be reminded of the likes of Air’s ‘10000Hz Legend’ and Super Furry Animals ‘Radiator’ by the montage of 60s-tinged mind-melt and sleek futurism here, but the truth is that Rubber Oh is a manifestation of a very personal vision. Alchemically assembled in his own Blank studios in Newcastle, ‘Little Demon’ - in all its thundering, earcandy glory, and accompanied by a Faustian, abstraction-embracing remix by friends and cohorts Richard Dawson and Circle’s Jussi Lehtisalo - is merely a first step into the unknown. “It’s a reference to when you’re lying in bed and your thoughts sabotage you” reasons Grant of ‘Little Demon’ - “It’s all meant to be this fixed loop - the lyrics, the riff, the drums - a constant repetition that keeps going round, maybe like a fever dream. The little demons that when you’re in bed suddenly start in your psyche, opening a door that just leads to another door” Wherever this door leads, ‘Little Demon’ is a psychic journey to be returned to on repeat.A. Little Demon B. Little Demon (Richard Dawson’s Haunted Wine-Cellar Version – Feat: Jussi Lehtisalo

First Word Records is very proud to present you with 'Peace + Harmony'. The first EP from our most recent signing, K S R .

Hailing from Moss Side, Manchester, this young talent has been steadily building a rep for himself over the past few years as one of the UK's most exciting soul vocalists, with his releases encompassing an eclectic assortment of alternative R&B, future soul, hip hop and D&B. Influenced by an array of neo-soul artists, such as D'Angelo and Anderson .Paak, his own soulful style has already seen him tour and collaborate with a number of UK peers; working on projects with label-mates Children of Zeus & Australia's REMi, and supporting the likes of Etta Bond & The Mouse Outfit, as well as performing sell-out headline solo shows in Manchester and London, and playing various festivals across Europe, including the We Out Here festival very recently.

Since he began developing his music in 2017, K S R has had support from the likes of 1Xtra, BBC Radio 1, BBC Introducing, Mixmag, NTS, Reprezent, Unity & Soho Radio, in addition to featuring on a slew of D&B tracks with artists like Lenzman, BCee, Emba & Redeyes. The collab with Emba was recently named a 'Kiss FM Future Selection' courtesy of Hybrid Minds and features have been supported on Spotify's 'New Music Friday' and 'Mandem - Kings' amongst others. His debut release 'Unfiltered' appeared on Polarface Records in 2019, which was followed by single 'Flex With Me' (also produced by Tyler Daley from Children of Zeus) then an independent second EP, 'Take Control', followed in late 2020 (during the pandemic) which amassed over 500k streams. Additionally to the releases, he was recently recruited by Manchester United as part of their 21/22 season kit announcements, as well as working with Nike and Size? on a special MCR-themed Air Force 1 release.

It's now time for a new extended project from Roosevelt Kazaula Sigsbert - better known as K S R . 'Peace + Harmony' is a solid set of alternative R&B, produced by Dom Porter and mixed by Eric Lau. Six tracks in all, including the single, 'Harmless' (which received support from the likes of Mr. Scruff (Worldwide FM), BBC Manchester and Victoria Jane (BBC Radio 1), was 'Track Of The Week' on 1Xtra/BBC Introducing, and saw the video racking up several thousand plays in its first weekend) and follow-up 'CGWY' featuring Children of Zeus on a brand new interpretation of their classic track 'Get What's Yours'. From the intro track 'I Wonder', to the downlow future soul of 'Lily Apart', to the autobiographical vibes of 'Born In '98', to the closing track 'Given Summer', also featuring the vocals of Ayeisha Raquel, each track on the EP is of course laced with Roosevelt's unmistakable silky smooth vocals, and is set to join his already impressive catalogue of underground soul classics such as 'Alien Boo', 'Stylin' and 'New Love'.

K S R says "my third EP, P E A C E + H A R M O N Y is a collection of my thoughts and experiences from my journey throughout the last two years of my life. Lots of aspects of my life changed over 24 months, along with everyone around the globe. When we were thrown into the unknown at the start of 2020, I stepped away from music for a while as I couldn't find any peace in my creativity and needed to evolve. I finally started to feel cohesive with my songwriting and music, and I could feel harmony between myself and my art once again."

'Peace + Harmony' by K S R is released on vinyl & digital on First Word Records, late 2021.

Zenith Volt/ zēneTH vōlt: 1.Galaxy driven woke melodies for your thoughts and drive 2. Ethereal calibration against gravity burdened life

On TIMEKEEPER, Zenith Volt says: I am so inspired by the thought that at this very moment in time, our heels are stepping out of a past to be left forever in exchange for an unwritten future. The album TIMEKEEPER holds an amalgam of this heaviness and hope throughout. Each instrument, melody, and message has a self-reflective undertone. Speak from the heart, embrace the strange, and keep a clear head. While the past and future are overall inspirational waypoints, they are specifically stylistic ones as well. Timekeeper has a heavy retro/futuristic synthesizer tone and feel. Arpeggiating pulse and forward motion stitch each track together forging ahead through time itself.

Pulling sounds from retro and futuristic palates, Zenith Volt constructs an ethereal reality, attuned to the openness, enormity and unpredictability of the expanding universe; and the unknown that ever lies ahead.

If one always looks at the sky, he will end up with wings, a wise French man once declared. Halifax, Nova Scotia based musician Jeremy Costello had wings, long before he looked up. Wings of imagination. Brandishing in his head, transforming deep-rooted emotions into poetry and sound. Since 2012 the Canadian self-releases music as Special Costello, a moniker under which he records solo or with local friends like Saxophone player Nick Dourado or guitarist Dave Burns. His lyrics are sincerely woven poetic enunciations that balance between introspective emotions and existential philosophical demands. Lyrics from a spirit that is in love without an object, unconditional, mirroring his very own subconscious inner being. The music reflects his tempers in many colours. Glimpses of Synth-Pop, psychedelic rock nuances, traces of new romantic utopia, infantile Casio minimalism, Shoegaze haze, drama wave: Special Costello blends many styles, uniting all in his very own musing grandeur of pop music.

After an array of digital releases, Berlin based label Marmo Music now publishes the Special Costello touch for the first time physically fabricated on vinyl. Seven songs featuring the longing voice of Jeremy Costello, sometimes in correlation with spoken words and dialogues by noted artists, poets, and scientists. All creations have been recorded by himself between Spring 2017 and winter 2020, using the extrasomatic help of instruments and machines like Farfisa Combo Compact transistor organ, Roland JX3P polyphonic analog synthesizer, Roland D50 linear synthesizer, Roland Rhythm Composer TR-08, Arturia Microbrute monophonic analog synthesizer or a Gibson Thunderbird IV bass guitar. In communication with his sensitive inner blues, they created an atmospheric voyage into the heart of Special Costello, that fulfils Arthur Russel’s sapient declaration: being sad is not a crime! Seven musical paintings full of intimate, vibrant feelings and existential thoughts, veiled in an antidepressant neo new romantic glam. An epic tune like “The Next Day”, in which Costello’s singing links with thought-provoking spoken word samples, sounds like Robert Ashley is meeting Hans-Joachim Roedelius in a psychic séance with Brian Ferry. In comparison, a song like “If Not Depression, Then What?” grooves with a pulsating wave bass figure and an overall gently floating electronic majesty, while Costello’s voice takes deep listeners to an unknown higher ground. On the other hand, a composition like “Unsetting” offers a nonchalant graceful funk drift with reverberant hand claps, minimal guitar strains and a chromatic synth pop grace. Above all the music Costello’s voice cries, screams, whispers, and weeps with a compelling introspective elegancy, that invites to associate intensely with the nonpareil Special Costello touch.

Written, composed, and recorded by Jeremy Costello between 2016 to 2020 in Halifax, Scotch Village and Toronto (Canada).

Instruments used by the artist: Farfisa Combo Compact transistor organ, Roland JX3P Programmable Preset Polyphonic Synthesizer, Roland D50 linear synthesizer, Yamaha DX7 Frequency Modulation/Programmable Algorithm Synthesizer and TX7 FM Expander, Roland Computer Controlled Rhythm Composer TR-08, Arturia Microbrute Analog Synthesizer, Gibson Thunderbird IV bass guitar, MicroKorg Synthesizer/Vocoder, Electro Harmonix Small Stone Phaser, Memory Boy Analog Delay, Alesis Quadraverb, and finally, their voice was recorded using Shure Beta57A and AKG D 330 BT dynamic microphones.

Biffy Clyro will release the surprise new project ‘The Myth of the Happily Ever After’ on October 22nd. The record is a homegrown project that represents a reaction to their #1 album ‘A Celebration of Endings’ and a rapid emotional response to the turmoil of the past year. It is the ying to the yang of ‘A Celebration’, the other-side-of-a-coin, a before-and-after comparison: their early optimism of 2020 having been brought back to earth with a resounding thud. It’s the product of a strange and cruel time in our lives, but one that ultimately reinvigorated Biffy Clyro.

“This is a reaction to ‘A Celebration of Endings’,” says vocalist / guitarist Simon Neil. “This album is a real journey, a collision of every thought and emotion we’ve had over the past eighteen months. There was a real fortitude in ‘A Celebration’ but in this record we’re embracing the vulnerabilities of being a band and being a human in this twisted era of our lives. Even the title is the polar opposite. It’s asking, do we create these narratives in our own minds to give us some security when none of us know what’s waiting for us at the end of the day?”

Grounded by lockdown, Biffy Clyro recorded ‘The Myth’ in a completely different way to how they approached ‘A Celebrations’. Rather than spending months in Los Angeles, they traded one West Coast for another by recording for just six weeks in their rehearsal room (converted DIY style into a fully functional studio by rhythm section brothers James and Ben Johnston) in a farmhouse closer to their homes.

The trio went in with the intention of completing some unfinished songs from ‘A Celebration’, but instead ‘The Myth’ took over as it started to take shape late in 2020, with everything written and recorded within a ten-mile radius. Traditionally, 90% of Biffy songs have been written in Scotland before the band head to London or Los Angeles for recording, but this represented the first time they’ve ever recorded in their homeland. As Simon jokes, “It’s our first full-on tartan album!”

‘The Myth’ blends experimental flourishes with flashes of old school Biffy. ‘Existed’ is the moment that shaped the record an elegant expression of self-doubt that redefines the sonics of the band’s catalogue of vulnerable slowburners, while ‘DumDum’ is an even bigger departure, having been constructed primarily around soft synths sampled from Simon’s voice. And ‘Slurpy Slurpy Sleep Sleep’ is just as audacious a closer as ‘Cop Syrup’ from ‘A Celebration’. It also represents one of a selection of “easter eggs” or “turns of phrase” that subtly complement and contrast the two records.

At the other extreme, devoted fans will connect with the feral anger of ‘A Hunger In Your Haunt’, the arena-scaled drama of ‘Errors In The History of God’ and the sheer catchiness of ‘Witch’s Cup’.

‘The Myth’ has been launched alongside the new track ‘Unknown Male 01’. In six adventurous minutes, the band explore every facet they’re renowned for, taking in the unguarded emotion of its introduction, a skewed off-kilter breakdown, and a jagged, spiralling riff that builds towards a cataclysmic crescendo. The song reflects on friends who have taken their own lives.

“When you lose people that you love deeply and have been a big part of your life, it can make you question every single thing about your own life,” he says. “Like a lot of creative people, I struggle with dark thoughts. If you’re that way inclined you realise you’re staring at darkness, but you don't want to succumb. Those moments don’t stop. As the song says, ‘The devil never leaves.’ There’s never a day where you wake up thinking, ‘I feel great, it won’t cross me ever again.’”

A recurring concept of the album is the power of personal convictions, which have taken on an almost religious fervour via the echo chambers of social media and news platforms. But that idea has the nuance to rise above contrasting sides of an argument, arguing that greater unity and open-mindedness is the only way forward. Elsewhere, it spans everything from gaslighting to the ultimate devotion of cults and the beautiful failure of a Japanese racehorse.

‘The Myth of the Happily Ever After’ is now available to pre-order here, with ‘Unknown Male 01’ provided as an instant download. It will be released on CD and digital formats, as well as a limited edition red vinyl which is packaged with a must-have bonus CD for fans: full audio of the acclaimed livestream show that Biffy Clyro performed at Glasgow Barrowland in August 2020 to commemorate the release of ‘A Celebration of Endings’.

After headlining Reading and Leeds in August, Biffy Clyro will also play further large-scale outdoor gigs this summer at Cardiff Bay and Glasgow Green. Plans for 2022 are also taking shape, with April’s long sold-out ‘Fingers Crossed’ intimate tour and a huge Saturday night headline set at Download. Please see the band’s official website for a full list of shows and ticket information.

Bill MacKay and Nathan Bowles’ debut is well titled: keys are what they play
and keys unlock things too. Their trad bonafides are balanced with
inquisitive playing that adds surprise as a formal songwriting and arranging
tool. Spirited 21st Century folk music made of equal parts bluegrass,
classical, country, gospel and improv.
‘Keys’ is, on first blush, a collection of guitar and banjo duets - but from the
opening moment, it is clear that Bill and Nathan’s agreed-upon duo is a
living organism, growing as it goes. Behind the stately figures of ‘Idumea’, a
19th Century southern hymnal played out on their stringed instruments, a
low organ drone hums persistently, signalling that this music, while coming
from traditional places, is asking more of itself, seeking sparks of inspiration
to light the path forward.
Bill and Nathan met a few years back, if time has any meaning. It didn’t
seem to at the time - after the first night they hung out, it seemed as if
they’d known each other for a while already. A year later, in 2018, they
were booked as a duo at Cropped Out. Preparing for the show involved a
correspondence exchanging lots of provisional ideas, thoughts and music
back and forth from Chicago to Durham NC, then dashing through the ideas
again on the festival grounds an hour before the show. From this seemingly
hectic preparation, their playing that night was remarkably serene, a
spiritual treatise clothed in the casual and natural manner of the proverbial
porch, or in this case, riverside-jam, as the stage literally straddled the edge
of the Ohio River. It was a stellar, simpatico first moment that asked for
more moments like it.
After several more sets the following year, they felt ready to roll tape (as the
saying goes) and chose to do so in Chicago, with Nick Broste at The Shape
Shoppe. Again, an easy rapport prevailed, allowing them to work through
their collected ideas quickly and freely, with the moments of spontaneous
decision that can come only with comfort and trust in each other’s presence.
Throughout ‘Keys’, Bill and Nathan propel their power-folk engine with intent
and feeling, joy and solemnity, as images of wariness, wonder, anger,
deliberation, forgiveness, trust and devotion rise up from the music and roll
it forward into the unknown, a place we can sense both players are happy
to go.
Eight of the ten songs featured are originals, with the other two coming
from different centuries to this one. The diversity of song is matched by the
instrumentation: in addition to Bill’s guitar and Nathan’s banjo, they add
voice, piano, percussion, pump organ, requinto and electric organ to the
richness and rusticity, the traditionalism and open space of the
compositions.

Once upon a time, two operators stared at their screens. They sat silently for hours, their whole being dedicated to the task they had been assigned to. Days and nights passed in the same monotonous manner. Suddenly signals showed up on their monitors. Alarms started to ring. Both reacted at the same speed and did what they were supposed to do. Controls and commands were entered, as was protocol. After observing these waves for 61:01 minutes, everything became quiet again. What they had just witnessed made them wonder. For the first time they addressed each other. "The data is transferring through our system," announced the first. “Let us both check how this can be interpreted.” The second validated the response. Together, they looked at what had been recorded. Ideas raced through their complicated minds until they realized simultaneously: sounds! They listened. “Is this an unknown language?” one asked. “This is the first time this has been heard throughout our history,” the other answered. They listened again and again. “This electricity has been arranged to form a cohesive entity,” the first said. “Why would machines be used to create that?” the second mused. Something had awakened inside of them, an obsessive curiosity they had never experienced before. They did not understand and were blown away by the beauty of it. “Do you think it could have been left by humans before us?” one whispered. “If it was, these would be Major Signals,” the other concluded. As they processed these thoughts, the two artificial intelligences sat still.

We remain suspended, fluctuating
In these waters of unknown wellness
Flooded by a silence of emotions.
Emotions that make our loneliness
More deep, clear and awful.
As nails that dig died skins,
As eyes that bleed making skins acid
As hair that strangles the crowd's voices
Thus we,
Remain suspended
in this air rarefied by thoughts
to make us more conscious of the restless lack
of the Hope from us stolen.

Guber releases his first EP on Paris based label Beat X Changers at the intersection of Ambiant and mental UK Bass music. The whole project is held by alternation of Slope / Release of sub-frequency and obsessional loop that dye each tracks. Anisotropic Expression is a first work that could be seen here as an draft representation of the behavior of surrounding matter. Non musical influences therefore are brought here by the the study of properties of materials expressed in a musical statement. Raw obsessional patterns, evolving and rolling out over the headroom could be seen as the emulation of many deformation models. Shaping of stereo and arrangement have been handled with the help of the sound engineer & producer X_1 leading to home or club-listening experience as well. Guber is been into music by listening & playing some music of the 70's and trash-metal that drove him straight to UK Bass music. Since there he is only focusing on spontaneous creation showing faithfull perception of thoughts, leading to a higher level of singularity.