All products
6256 products


Limited 50 copies. 40mins sonic meditation by Ocean Moon and aus.the sun is shining.the magic is real.good times.
Lo Recordings boss Jon Tye harks back to his time with UK ambient group MLO on 'Ways to the Deep Meadow', proposing an optimistic, immersive alternative to the perpetual doom and gloom.
It's no surprise that Tye's latest solo jaunt has ended up on Music For Memory, given that the label reissued a retrospective of MLO's work ('Oumaumua') back in 2021. And 'Ways to the Deep Meadow' is in good company next to releases from Gigi Masin and Gaussian Curve. Tye's approach is thoughtful, but never dark - the title of the album is a reference to Angus Maclise's poem 'Universal Solar Calendar', and on the first side, he takes a surprisingly upbeat look at the possibilities of AI. Inspired by the Buddhist perspective that AI could be an integral step in the evolution of consciousness, and texts from Frank J. Tippler, Jeanette Winterson and James Lovelock, Tye crafts a sequence of gently evolving nu-new age lullabies, using faded pads and animated, woodblock-like percussive cycles.
On the title track, we can hear traces of Hiroshi Yoshimura's iconic 'Green', while 'Day of the Voyage' sounds more like early ISAN, all slo-mo beatbox pulses and sugary melodies. And on the flip, Tye presents two long-form compositions, the first of which was composed for Janine Rook's 'Made In Dreams' exhibition using text from the catalogue that Tye processed using Holly Herndon's Holly + app. Written for Vix Hill Ryder's 'Wild Edges' film, 'An Ending Full of Light' finishes things off with charming musicbox melodies that wash into warm, billowing ambience.


"Onkiniemi Ateljee is a cultural space established in a disused knitting factory in 2020, at a time when the Covid pandemic had been raging for roughly half a year. Globally, countermeasures to the disease and the threat it posed were varied, but the effects were universal. Communal rituals, such as live music gatherings, became rarer or changed in nature. The most you could do was put a record on while boiling masks in the evenings. Every now and then I’ve heard people speak of experimental or otherwise exciting music as something one is “exposed to”. By the spring of -22 gathering together in Onkiniemi’s autonomous Habbo Hotel was once again a relaxed affair. The sound lived in the box-shaped confines of the atelier, splashed forth like warm water and upon reaching living ears foamed like hand soap. On that April Fool’s Day Oiro Pena’s playing would’ve moved anyone from Tokyo to Torino to Tohmajärvi alike. That’s how small the world is at best. Let us be exposed!" - Ville Väisänen
Sakhalin Rock” was released shortly after OKI, a player of the traditional stringed instrument of the Karafuto Ainu people, traveled to Sakhalin, Sakhalin, the birthplace of the tonkori.
The incomparable album, which includes a Brazilian recording with pandeiro wizard Marcos Suzano, has been remastered by OKI himself for this analog release, and the order of the songs has been changed.
The album also includes “King Futoshi,” a previously unreleased song recorded privately with OKI's former member, Futoshi Ikabe, who passed away last year.
OKI's never-ending love and passion for Ainu music is reflected throughout the album, making it a must-have masterpiece for fans.
The tough and heavy DUB MIX by Naoyuki Uchida and the sharp sound of OKI's tonkori are brought back to life with the warmth and depth that only an analog disc can provide.
This is a must-have for those who want to experience the intense “AINU BEAT” that will not fade away with the passage of time.
<iframe height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_X9QxFaHJwA?si=FyUex10qlW2geU7n" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qG025rJyFls?si=dJgz4drwFLWKjnX_" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>

Unlike anything we’ve heard from her before, Okkyung Lee returns to Shelter Press with Just Like Any Other Day (어느날): Background Music For Your Mundane Activities, a deeply intimate body of recordings at the juncture of ambient music, minimalism, and the baroque, that stands as radical intervention with what experimental music can be, and the place that organisations of sound occupy in our lives.
For more than two decades, Okkyung Lee has stood at the forefront of the most radical trajectories of experimental music: a virtuosic cellist and improviser, renowned for her creative rigour and emotive depth. Particularly noteworthy for her range, dexterity, and adaptability, over the last five years Lee’s output has revealed unexpected shifts and developments that move far afield from the realms of free improvisation for which she is most well know. 2020’s Yeo-Neun, a heart-wrenching, ambient chamber work - drawing inspiration from the Korean popular music of her youth - was issued by Shelter Press to great critical response, followed closely by Teum (The Silvery Slit) - one of a series engrossing electroacoustic works created at Groupe de Recherches Musicales in Paris - on Portraits GRM, and then 나를 (Na-Reul) in 2021, regarded by Lee as a closing statement of more than two decades living in New York, which set the precedent of her allowing her emotions to fully occupy the forefront of the music for the first time. Marking her return to Shelter press, Just Like Any Other Day (어느날): Background Music For Your Mundane Activities, encounters Lee upturning the apple cart once again, weaving a profoundly intimate artistic statement on completely unexpected terms.
Like its three aforementioned predecessors, Just Like Any Other Day (어느날) belongs to broadening shift in Lee’s approach to composing that roughly aligns with her return to her native South Korea, having lived in the United States since her late teens. Infused with a deep reengagement with her own culture and relationship to memory, it is equally a response to those critical challenges and questions provoked by significant life change. Worked on in isolation, and continuously returned to, over the course of four years, the album’s nine pieces began with a simple recognition that experimental music is not always what we imagine it to be. It is a practice and a pursuit - a music for which, at its inception, the outcome is unknown - rather than an idiom defined by certain syntaxes, approaches, and qualities of structure and sound. From this departure point, Lee began to inquire after the utility of music itself: what is it for, what does it do, and what place does it (or can it) occupy in our lives?
This solitary and durational journey, each composition gradually moving through different phases and evolutions over years, led Lee toward uncharted ground: a music that is not only playful, introspective, and seductive, but also intended to provoke a relationship to experimental music beyond its normative expectations. Rather active or deep listening, it pursues passive listening. Rather than a grand statement, it is discreet. Rather than virtuosity, it embraces the elegant and direct. Even more strikingly, for the first time, the music of Just Like Any Other Day (어느날) encounters Lee leaving the cello entirely behind.
Created at home on keyboard, computer, and an inexpensive cassette recorder, Just Like Any Other Day (어느날) presents a remarkable form of ambient music - organisations of sound that become their own environment, to be occupied - intended, as the album’s subheading infers, as Background Music For Your Mundane Activities. An expansion of the creative pathways opened by the Korean pop imbued compositions of Yeo-Neun, aspects of electronic process explored by Teum (The Silvery Slit), and the emotive foregrounding of 나를 (Na-Reul), each of the pieces presented across the two sides of Just Like Any Other Day (어느날) implies something far greater than the limits of its own temporarily: a mood, provocations of memory and place, mirrors for the solitude within which it was made, and palpable emotion lingering just out of grasp. For Lee, each of the album’s compositions could be continued or looped for an indeterminate duration: straddling a ground between the minimal and the baroque, enveloping the listener in endless cycles of appreciating, repetitive and rhythmical notes, flirting with the melodic and implying a disembodied imagism that borders on the profound.
Remarkably beautiful and direct, Okkyung Lee’s Just Like Any Other Day (어느날): Background Music For Your Mundane Activities represents a radical reconfiguration of experiential music, stripped to its bare essence in defiance of the widely presumed aesthetic signifiers. Unlike anything we’ve heard from her before, this immersive body of intimate recordings not only reveals new dimensions of Lee’s striking range as an artist, but also of how we might regard and occupy music itself: an ambience to lived and felt like a second skin.

It is often said that we find it hard to stare at the light, however, the universe never lights out. This first premise from As Above, So Below is the base point for the setting of what follows. A group of rabble-rousing guerillères from the commune decide to go bowling. They had entered the forest, followed its winding paths, and emerged blind after staring at the universe for too long. No longer able to find their way by observing the stars, they now have to climb on the houses and feel the vernacular roofing to find out in which direction they’re heading. They get to the bowling alley all amped up. The punters insist on lighting their cigarettes - they’re not interested in matches but rather in the cardboard cover that attaches them. The only striking going on is the sound of the skittles getting scattered, syncopating with saturated basslines, mixed vocal techniques, heavy fx, and feeding into an arsenal of bells and percussions. They start stomping on the alleys as if this was a housewarming party and they had to break in a newly laid wood floor. Moving in circles, they eventually fall through it and end up in a room where the light has been swallowed. A band including none of its original members is performing, they can only hear a warm yet throbbing hum. They soon realise the massive rolling sub is getting louder and louder and adjusting its pitch. The dust their feet was lifting is slowly sweeping around the floor and gathering in patches and lines, drawing out the Chladni figures they had seen in their dreams, experiencing the same thoughts at the same moment, they inscribe them on a loquat leaf.

After nearly two years, Okonski returns with Entrance Music — an album that finds the trio at the height of their improvisational prowess and celebrating the spontaneous and meditative. On the heels of 2023’s debut Magnolia, pianist and leader Steve Okonski has reconvened long-time musical collaborators (Durand Jones and the Indications bandmate Aaron Frazer on drums and bassist Michael Isvara “Ish” Montgomery) for another session in the spirit of artists like the Bad Plus, Gerald Clayton, and The Breathing Effect. Ultimately Entrance Music serves as an invitation to early hours, where songs linger in the doorway, announcing their presence before returning to the air, in a meticulous drift into the next.
Recorded over a five day session, Entrance Music was one of the first albums committed to tape at Portage Lounge, Terry Cole’s studio in Loveland, OH. “It was a new setup, but with Terry behind the dials it was very familiar,” says Okonski. “I can’t emphasize enough how much Terry feels like a fourth member [of the band] because of the space he’s curating, the energy he is bringing, and the production ideas.” The energy and sound created with the Colemine labelhead at the helm makes for a listening experience equally at home with ECM or Stones Throw catalogs.
From the rippling notes of the pastoral opener, “October,” Entrance Music is lush with anticipation, both band and listener feeling the tension in the tranquility — where the interplay of jazz improvisation and boom bap beats never shortchanges the musicianship but the talent is ever in service of the song.
While the band does not play together as often as they would like, not much time is needed for the three to lock in. Montgomery’s bass opening to “Passing Through” bends and moves with a singular meditative grace before piano and percussion joins the daylight filling a room with breath and light. If Magnolia resonated with last calls and late nights, Entrance Music counters with early mornings and first cups of coffee.
Whereas much of the debut resonates with his time in New York, Entrance Music “feels a little less ‘on the streets at 2 A.M.’ and a little more nature-based…a little more ethereal,” says Okonski. “It’s definitely age, environment, and family — all of that does come through in the music.” <iframe style="border: 0; width: 350px; height: 439px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=3410800866/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless><a href="https://okonski.bandcamp.com/album/entrance-music">Entrance Music by Okonski</a></iframe>

After nearly two years, Okonski returns with Entrance Music — an album that finds the trio at the height of their improvisational prowess and celebrating the spontaneous and meditative. On the heels of 2023’s debut Magnolia, pianist and leader Steve Okonski has reconvened long-time musical collaborators (Durand Jones and the Indications bandmate Aaron Frazer on drums and bassist Michael Isvara “Ish” Montgomery) for another session in the spirit of artists like the Bad Plus, Gerald Clayton, and The Breathing Effect. Ultimately Entrance Music serves as an invitation to early hours, where songs linger in the doorway, announcing their presence before returning to the air, in a meticulous drift into the next.
Recorded over a five day session, Entrance Music was one of the first albums committed to tape at Portage Lounge, Terry Cole’s studio in Loveland, OH. “It was a new setup, but with Terry behind the dials it was very familiar,” says Okonski. “I can’t emphasize enough how much Terry feels like a fourth member [of the band] because of the space he’s curating, the energy he is bringing, and the production ideas.” The energy and sound created with the Colemine labelhead at the helm makes for a listening experience equally at home with ECM or Stones Throw catalogs.
From the rippling notes of the pastoral opener, “October,” Entrance Music is lush with anticipation, both band and listener feeling the tension in the tranquility — where the interplay of jazz improvisation and boom bap beats never shortchanges the musicianship but the talent is ever in service of the song.
While the band does not play together as often as they would like, not much time is needed for the three to lock in. Montgomery’s bass opening to “Passing Through” bends and moves with a singular meditative grace before piano and percussion joins the daylight filling a room with breath and light. If Magnolia resonated with last calls and late nights, Entrance Music counters with early mornings and first cups of coffee.
Whereas much of the debut resonates with his time in New York, Entrance Music “feels a little less ‘on the streets at 2 A.M.’ and a little more nature-based…a little more ethereal,” says Okonski. “It’s definitely age, environment, and family — all of that does come through in the music.” <iframe style="border: 0; width: 350px; height: 439px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=3410800866/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless><a href="https://okonski.bandcamp.com/album/entrance-music">Entrance Music by Okonski</a></iframe>

Colombian-born artist Juan Carlos Torres Alonso, aka OKRAA, presents his third sonic exploration on A Strangely Isolated Place titled, La Gran Corriente. This album marks a profound shift in Juan's creative journey, where themes of portals, the illusion of time, and the paradoxes of self-discovery converge into a powerful auditory experience.
Following a transformative visit to Bogotá in May 2023, Juan underwent an introspective journey that inspired a new direction in his music. This experience, which he describes as an encounter with "an infinite current behind or inside of everything," led to a complete reimagining of his work. Abandoning previous demos, Juan embraced a liberated creative process that was both challenging and exhilarating.
La Gran Corriente is characterized by its innovative production techniques, eschewing fixed grids and BPMs in favor of fluid, organic structures and combining influences from Juan’s other production alias, ‘Laudrup’. This approach not only opened up new creative possibilities but also led to numerous "happy accidents," resulting in a body of work that is as unpredictable as it is cohesive.
At the heart of the album lies a poem written by Juan during production, a text that echoes the themes woven throughout the music. Translated loosely to English, the poem reflects on the nature of reality and time, with lines like "the land of oblivion is not real" and "the great current reminisces; time is an illusion." These words serve as both a guide and a reflection of the album’s deeper meaning.
La Gran Corriente is a record that invites the listener to unlearn and to immerse themselves in a sonic current that is both infinite and transformative. It’s a testament to the power of creative reinvention and the relentless pursuit of deeper truths through music.
Featuring artwork by Peter Skwiot Smith, La Gran Corriente is available on gatefold colored vinyl 2LP, mastered by Taylor Deupree / 12k Mastering, with full release on 30th October 2024.

Songs for Nothing was written upon Olan Monk’s return to the west coast of Ireland. The album is imbued with the influence of sean-nós singing, Irish language songs in the “old style” that often proclaim tales of love, loss and landscape; and also heavily indebted to the late Sinéad O’Connor’s confessional songwriting. Reconstructing these influences through their unique perspective has resulted in a fragmentary album veering between collaged pop, machinic rock and slow airs, “dedicated to Conamara and all who have called it home”. The western, Atlantic-facing edge of Ireland has a particular feeling and energy, one that permeates the release: the granite pulsates, the ocean and sky reflect intensities, seaweed rots on shingle shores, plants bloom, ancient trees come up for air from the drowned forest in Galway Bay, the sun splinters through the low clouds.

