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Carlos Giffoni reconnects with Thurston Moore for the first time in years, blazing through two sides of loose-limbed axe noise, oscillator worship and hard-phased, Spacemen 3-style feedback. Giffoni's been on a roll recently. Since the No Fun founder returned to the scene with 'Vain', a genius set of synth mutations that appeared in iDEAL back in 2018, he's been slowly ramping up the activity, dropping the celestial 'Dream Walker' on Stephen O'Malley's Ideologic Organ in 2024 and following it with 'Pendulum', a bumper compendium of collaborations, just a few weeks back. For those who remember Giffoni's first trip round the block, he was always able to hold his own chopping it up in person, not just by mail. Just scrub through his early catalog and you'll see collabs with Nels Cline and Chris Corsano, Merzbow, Jim O'Rourke and Lasse Marhaug, and of course, Thurston Moore. The two rekindle their thing on 'IGUANA', picking up where 2001's fabled '4 Guitars Live' performance left off. Here, Giffoni straddles a tabletop synth and FX while Moore attacks his signature Jazzmaster with a drumstick and a screwdriver - vibes fully intact. Moore is on blistering form, sounding as if he's taken a step back to refresh his approach since the early '00s when he could be spotted moonlighting on any number of basement-adjacent noise sides. Sawing at his strings and turning the guitar into a shrieking resonator, he leaves only faint vapours of the classic Sonic Youth sound as opiating accents on his animalistic wails and rumbles. On the opening half, his whammy-assisted shreds are balanced out by Giffoni's off-world whirrs and airlocked vibrations, building a dense wall of noise towards an unexpectedly elegiac conclusion. At some point, Giffoni's rasping churr transforms into a simmering shudder and Moore's into hymnal drones - squint a bit and you could almost call it pretty. Of course, they ramp things up on the flip, dissolving the melancholia with smokey white noise and twangy, post-Derek Bailey chimes that Giffoni accompanies with aggy oscillations. Like every great taped noise set, the recording quality is crucial - 'IGUANA' was captured from the pit by Guillermo Hernandez Avendano, the dad of Lia Miranda who provides the cover photo. It's that kinda show.

Dream Walker is an album intended for late nights. For those moments when you are ready to let go of your physical self and transcend momentarily into another world. Dream Walker is also an album about someone who can walk between dreams. One who can surpass the boundaries of reality and slip into unseen worlds. A visitor who is writing a sonic story with every step he takes. Dream Walker is also a love letter to all the music I love. I set out to make something that sounded good to my ears with no preconceptions or limitations, so it wears its influences on its sleeve. When you listen, if you start to feel like you know, then you know. Every sound was made with hardware, mostly synthesizers, in 2023. It is also true that it was made by attempting to enter a trance state while recording each of these tracks and letting the subconscious take control to put a touch of otherness in the mix. And that is that. I hope you enjoy this record. It was always intended to end in this form and to find a way into your ears. Believe Walker, believe. –Carlos Giffoni, November 2023

Carlos Giffoni crash lands on Room40 with an ambitious new album of collaborations with Lea Bertucci, Greg Kelley, Mabe Fratti, Zola Jesus, Ben Chasny (aka Six Organs of Admittance) and Sepultura drummer Iggor Cavalera. Since 2010, when Giffoni was a relatively prolific member of New York's nu-noise elite, heading up the No Fun label (and the legendary festival), he's only released two albums: 2018's 'Vain' and 2024's meditative addition to the Ideologic Organ catalog 'Dream Walker'. Giffoni wrote the outline for 'Pendulum' in 2024 and 2025, quickly sending off the sketches to a handful of friends, some of whom he's been working with for decades. Under-sung hero of the New England noise/improv scene Greg Kelley turns up on the title track, for example, and opens up Giffoni's pitchy synth drones with a brassy fanfare that's a million miles away from his work with Nmperign (or on Kevin Drumm's extreme music milestone 'Sheer Hellish Miasma', fr). We don't remember if Chasny ever played No Fun Fest, but he was certainly knocking around at that time. So his contribution to 'Axis', gurgling synth sequences that follow Giffoni's own, close a loop between noise, psychedelic synth music and folk that the nomadic, genre-hopping underground mainstay has been signaling towards for years. And elsewhere, Giffoni sends out the signal to more recent contacts, roping in Guatemalan prodigy Mabe Fratti to offer her touch to album highlight 'Dermis' and tapping the unstoppable Lea Bertucci for some of her immediately recognizable tape manipulations on 'Dos'. Fittingly, it's old hand Cavalera, who's seemingly on a mission to collaborate with the entire scene right now, who plays us out, roughing up 'Whirlwind', Giffoni's muckiest cut in years, with the kind of laptop-bent noise that kept us going back to his Merzbow collab 'Nocturnal Rainforest' last year. Did we mention the whole thing's mixed and mastered by Jim O'Rourke? Well worth a peep.

Over the past few years, concert patrons have stopped the musician Carlos Niño after gigs to ask two simple questions: “Are you a shaman?” “I hear the medicine in your music, can I come to your next ceremony?” The queries are fair enough: Looking at Niño, a tall man with a wild beard and kind eyes, one would think he’s from some faraway time and could maybe cast spells. Once you get to know him, you find that he’s just an incredibly sweet guy with a laid-back demeanor, and that he isn’t some guru claiming to have an all-access pass to the otherworld. So what does he say to those wondering if he’s a spiritual teacher? “I’m just chillin’, on fire,” he declares. “I'm not rolling with or out any kind of religious or traditional focus, rules or doctrine. I'm just presenting something that has a lot of energy, and is intended to be an opening for those of us who are journeying, creating musically, and for those who gather with us.” Indeed, there’s a communal essence to Niño’s self-described Energetic Space Music. As leader of Carlos Niño & Friends, he encourages his collaborators to improvise without preconceived ideas of what the sound is supposed to entail. His new album, (I’m just) Chillin’, on Fire, features more than a dozen musicians and includes a who’s who of sonic experimentation — everyone from guitarist Nate Mercereau and saxophonist Kamasi Washington, to New Age cornerstone Laraaji and hip-hop legend André 3000 playing his now trademark flute. On purpose, Niño lets the music drift and the unity ensue, making (I’m just) Chillin’, on Fire another highlight in a recent run of sublime work. But where albums like 2020’s Chicago Waves (with multi-instrumentalist Miguel Atwood-Ferguson) and last year’s Extra Presence hovered in the speakers, (I’m just) Chillin’ forges ahead in certain spots through energetic drums equally indebted to jazz and electronic funk. It eschews genre, but the tenets of ‘70s underground jazz are present. Fifty years ago, acts like Brother Ah, the Ensemble Al-Salaam and Mtume Umoja Ensemble crafted music that scanned as Spiritual Jazz yet flared in many different directions. They leaned into the transcendence of the music overall, not artificial terms used to market it. (I’m just) Chillin’ emits the same emotion: On “Mighty Stillness,” when the experimental violinist V.C.R proclaims her “ancestral right” to rest, she evokes Black women like Jeanne Lee, Jayne Cortez and Beatrice Parker, innovative vocalists from indie scenes who embodied the same freedom. Then on “Love Dedication (for Annelise),” Niño uses subtle bass (from Michael Alvidrez) and a serene piano loop (from Surya Botofasina) to speak of endearment in broad terms. “Love is unconditional — everywhere, everything, flowing always,” he observes. “Totally alive, no upper limit.” Though he hesitates to embrace comparisons to the spacious arrangements heard on indie labels of the ‘70s like Strata, Strata-East and Tribe (only because of how much he respects their legacies, not wanting to claim any space in their fields), there’s no denying his stature as an anchor in the jazz, hip-hop and beat scenes in Los Angeles over the last nearly 30 years, and how his influences are alive in what he makes. “All of those labels to me are hugely influential,” Niño says. “When I think about Strata-East, I immediately think of Pharaoh Sanders, and I think of one of my favorite albums of all-time, Live at the East (on Impulse!), and how The East and that movement is a huge influence. I'm not from that community. I don't claim any direct connection to it, but my awareness of it and my appreciation of it is gigantic.” The vocals for (I’m just) Chillin’ were compiled unconventionally. “I was like, ‘I'm going to turn on the mic, and you're going to listen all the way through the album and record anything you're feeling at any moment,’” Niño says of the creative process. “It was completely open to their interpretation.” He found that the vocalists Cavana Lee, Maia, Mia Doi Todd, and V.C.R interpreted the music in similar ways: “People who are not even in the same room, who did not hear what the other person did, they all created these really cool weavings — and it was so fun.” While the album compiles live and studio arrangements recorded in places like Venice, Leimert Park and Woodstock over the past three years, it feels harmonious, as if captured in one space with all musicians present. This highlights Niño’s ability as a conductor and producer. That he could winnow such vast experimentation into a seamless set is a worthy feat on its own. Much like Niño’s other LPs, (I’m just) Chillin’ is an immersive listen that requires attentive ears to fully absorb. In a world dominated by social media and the 24-hour news cycle, it seems we’re all in a hurry for no reason in particular. By creating music with tender messages and leisurely pacing, Niño nudges listeners to slow down and appreciate life’s natural wonders, to savor the journey and not rush

Carlos Niño & Friends, who are familiar with our store as a signboard act of , which is a major sacred place of the LA underground presided over by Matthewdavid. A compilation of sound sources from previously analog-released works, compiled into a cassette, to create a best-of cassette-like work. The title "Assortment for Susan's" is dedicated to their dear friend and collaborator Justin Hansin. A total of 4 tracks of ultra-high-quality new age and contemporary jazz, including sound sources with the participation of gorgeous people such as Laraaji and Ariel Karma! Limited to 200 copies.

Carlos Niño, the Los Angeles–based musician known for his work with Build An Ark and numerous collaborations, performs an extensive array of instruments and sound-making objects on Bubble Bath for Giants—including bells, bowls, chimes, various drums, gongs, metal and wooden keyboards, plant leaf bundles, shakers, and his own voice—while also shaping the album’s overall sound design.

When Carlos Niño is performing with his friends, he is embedded in the present. And from there, it seems like he can see anything: every possible place a song might go, how a sound might evolve, whether or not it will make his listeners and collaborators feel seen and appreciated. He is a maestro of arranging time and space into supportive containers, somehow completely in sync with the moment and beyond all chronology. And over the past couple of years, when the concepts of space and time have dilated and gone sideways for so many of us, Carlos’ attempts to crystallize the moments he and his friends produce and present us with songs ripe with possibility, chance, and the care that radiates naturally among musicians who love and trust one another has felt like an act of profound kindness. In 2020, when the world entered into lockdown, Carlos engaged in his studio in Woodland Hills, CA, where he pored over tapes from past improv sessions. One in particular stuck out, a February 2019 Just Jazz gig with Devin Daniels, Jamael Dean, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, and Randy Gloss. On stage that night, he’d been confused and uncomfortable, he didn’t understand his relationship with an audience. “I had a revelation that night,” he says. “What I present in concert is sonic journeying—not a set of songs, or a program, or a performative energy.” Using the Just Jazz tapes as a guide, he mixed and remixed, overdubbed synthesizer and pulled from his extensive battery of percussion instruments. He invited his collaborators—his friends, though we should all be so lucky to have friends as talented as these—to add their own overdubs, then, working the controls, he turned out a collection of songs that seem to have entire worlds encased within them. He worked with a sense of necessity. “The urgency was to share a message,” he says, “that we would get through this.” It’s a feeling that was made manifest across Actual Presence, and is extended in this new version, entitled EXTRA PRESENCE. When I first heard these songs in 2020, I was astounded by how expertly Carlos was able to guide his listeners through a three-dimensional soundscape. It felt miraculous, as if we were getting a new view of free jazz and new age and hip-hop, being brought into the cells of the music to see how all its constituent parts fit together. The implication seemed to be that every moment of every song—not just these songs, but any song—was ripe with possibility, that decisions were being made at every moment, and that because of that, other decisions might be made. Free jazz and free improv are both predicated on this very idea, of course, but where that sense of freedom often yields dissonance and confusion, Actual Presence seemed to suggest that something like spiritual harmony could be reached on the fly, that it was hidden in everything if you were willing to try and find it. What I didn’t hear then, but hear now, is that this sense of harmony wasn’t just coming from Carlos’ remarkable studio skills. It was inherent in the playing itself, and in the way the players relate to one another. There is an emotional coherence to this music, a collective ache at its core that starts with the majesty of Jamael Dean’s piano and runs through even the smallest of instruments. No matter who’s playing on any given track—or when they were playing it—everyone is watching one another, patiently waiting, not moving forward until everyone is ready. That could feel ponderous, but here it feels generous. You expect “Youwillgetthroughthis” to move out its foyer, but the kalimba finds an interesting groove there, so they all gather around to explore it, which gives a deeply tender organ space to open the song in a completely new direction. It’s music as a series of cleansing exhales, as re-grounding, slowing down to move at a speed that allows it to examine itself. As its title suggests, EXTRA PRESENCE gives us another hour of these explorations. The new tracks were all recorded around the time Carlos was working on Actual Presence and its followup, More Energy Fields, Current, and they show that the sense of possibility that first suggested itself in these songs wasn’t a mirage. Rather than simply remixing old tunes, Carlos opens new doors that reveal new rooms. “Youwillgetthroughthis with Koto” isn’t just augmented by a koto; it’s wound up in a new tension that was barely suggested in the original track. “Luis’ Special Shells,” an Actual Presence highlight, dips us into an subaquatic world painted in inky blues and forest greens, the shells themselves the only clear element that remains from the original. Most strikingly, it’s capped by the 23-minute ambient piece “Recurrent Reiki Dreams,” a dramatic extension of the album’s “Mushroomeclipse.” The track’s length, and the lightly undulating silkiness of its textures, makes it feel as though the entire album has been sliding into this primordial space, as if the whole of EXTRA PRESENCE is something like a symphony. Or maybe like all of those views Carlos and his friends have offered have all been different ways of saying this, variations on a way of articulating a feeling that exists here in its purest form. It’s like staring into the object with which this music has been abiding. What I didn’t hear in 2020 but hear now, as the world has changed and continues to, is that the sound of EXTRA PRESENCE is the sound of being ready to face yourself. Or, more precisely, it’s the sound of what happens when everyone pauses what they’re doing and rallies to support a wounded friend. Yes, these songs are technically dazzling, constantly surprising, and expertly constructed. But at its core, EXTRA PRESENCE is about sitting down, being with, trying to draw from a sensation or a mass that’s much bigger than we can understand. Yes, this is mystical language, but this is mystical music. “It is a way of describing the awareness of Eternal Now,” Carlos says.” “It is a way of expressing the consciousness of Being.”

When Carlos Niño is performing with his friends, he is embedded in the present. And from there, it seems like he can see anything: every possible place a song might go, how a sound might evolve, whether or not it will make his listeners and collaborators feel seen and appreciated. He is a maestro of arranging time and space into supportive containers, somehow completely in sync with the moment and beyond all chronology. And over the past couple of years, when the concepts of space and time have dilated and gone sideways for so many of us, Carlos’ attempts to crystallize the moments he and his friends produce and present us with songs ripe with possibility, chance, and the care that radiates naturally among musicians who love and trust one another has felt like an act of profound kindness. In 2020, when the world entered into lockdown, Carlos engaged in his studio in Woodland Hills, CA, where he pored over tapes from past improv sessions. One in particular stuck out, a February 2019 Just Jazz gig with Devin Daniels, Jamael Dean, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, and Randy Gloss. On stage that night, he’d been confused and uncomfortable, he didn’t understand his relationship with an audience. “I had a revelation that night,” he says. “What I present in concert is sonic journeying—not a set of songs, or a program, or a performative energy.” Using the Just Jazz tapes as a guide, he mixed and remixed, overdubbed synthesizer and pulled from his extensive battery of percussion instruments. He invited his collaborators—his friends, though we should all be so lucky to have friends as talented as these—to add their own overdubs, then, working the controls, he turned out a collection of songs that seem to have entire worlds encased within them. He worked with a sense of necessity. “The urgency was to share a message,” he says, “that we would get through this.” It’s a feeling that was made manifest across Actual Presence, and is extended in this new version, entitled EXTRA PRESENCE. When I first heard these songs in 2020, I was astounded by how expertly Carlos was able to guide his listeners through a three-dimensional soundscape. It felt miraculous, as if we were getting a new view of free jazz and new age and hip-hop, being brought into the cells of the music to see how all its constituent parts fit together. The implication seemed to be that every moment of every song—not just these songs, but any song—was ripe with possibility, that decisions were being made at every moment, and that because of that, other decisions might be made. Free jazz and free improv are both predicated on this very idea, of course, but where that sense of freedom often yields dissonance and confusion, Actual Presence seemed to suggest that something like spiritual harmony could be reached on the fly, that it was hidden in everything if you were willing to try and find it. What I didn’t hear then, but hear now, is that this sense of harmony wasn’t just coming from Carlos’ remarkable studio skills. It was inherent in the playing itself, and in the way the players relate to one another. There is an emotional coherence to this music, a collective ache at its core that starts with the majesty of Jamael Dean’s piano and runs through even the smallest of instruments. No matter who’s playing on any given track—or when they were playing it—everyone is watching one another, patiently waiting, not moving forward until everyone is ready. That could feel ponderous, but here it feels generous. You expect “Youwillgetthroughthis” to move out its foyer, but the kalimba finds an interesting groove there, so they all gather around to explore it, which gives a deeply tender organ space to open the song in a completely new direction. It’s music as a series of cleansing exhales, as re-grounding, slowing down to move at a speed that allows it to examine itself. As its title suggests, EXTRA PRESENCE gives us another hour of these explorations. The new tracks were all recorded around the time Carlos was working on Actual Presence and its followup, More Energy Fields, Current, and they show that the sense of possibility that first suggested itself in these songs wasn’t a mirage. Rather than simply remixing old tunes, Carlos opens new doors that reveal new rooms. “Youwillgetthroughthis with Koto” isn’t just augmented by a koto; it’s wound up in a new tension that was barely suggested in the original track. “Luis’ Special Shells,” an Actual Presence highlight, dips us into an subaquatic world painted in inky blues and forest greens, the shells themselves the only clear element that remains from the original. Most strikingly, it’s capped by the 23-minute ambient piece “Recurrent Reiki Dreams,” a dramatic extension of the album’s “Mushroomeclipse.” The track’s length, and the lightly undulating silkiness of its textures, makes it feel as though the entire album has been sliding into this primordial space, as if the whole of EXTRA PRESENCE is something like a symphony. Or maybe like all of those views Carlos and his friends have offered have all been different ways of saying this, variations on a way of articulating a feeling that exists here in its purest form. It’s like staring into the object with which this music has been abiding. What I didn’t hear in 2020 but hear now, as the world has changed and continues to, is that the sound of EXTRA PRESENCE is the sound of being ready to face yourself. Or, more precisely, it’s the sound of what happens when everyone pauses what they’re doing and rallies to support a wounded friend. Yes, these songs are technically dazzling, constantly surprising, and expertly constructed. But at its core, EXTRA PRESENCE is about sitting down, being with, trying to draw from a sensation or a mass that’s much bigger than we can understand. Yes, this is mystical language, but this is mystical music. “It is a way of describing the awareness of Eternal Now,” Carlos says.” “It is a way of expressing the consciousness of Being.”

Placenta is the fourth collection of broadly imaginative and highly collaborative Carlos Niño & Friends music released on International Anthem in the last four years. It is also the first new music to be released by Carlos Niño & Friends following the November 2023 release of André 3000’s New Blue Sun – an album which Carlos produced alongside André, while co-writing, co-creating/playing, and co-mixing every song. Placenta is announced on April 11th, 2024, a date chosen because it is the 1st solar return of Moss Niño (a new being in human form, who Carlos and his partner Annelise are Earth parents of). Their experience of pregnancy, labor and delivery were all profoundly impactful for Carlos. Becoming a father again (a whole 24 years after the birth of Azul Niño, who has become a regular artistic collaborator with Carlos) he felt total Inspiration for this set of recordings, and hence it is perhaps the most conceptually-grounded Carlos Niño & Friends album we've yet to present – fully connected to the spirit of family, birth, and "how we get here."

Placenta is the fourth collection of broadly imaginative and highly collaborative Carlos Niño & Friends music released on International Anthem in the last four years. It is also the first new music to be released by Carlos Niño & Friends following the November 2023 release of André 3000’s New Blue Sun – an album which Carlos produced alongside André, while co-writing, co-creating/playing, and co-mixing every song. Placenta is announced on April 11th, 2024, a date chosen because it is the 1st solar return of Moss Niño (a new being in human form, who Carlos and his partner Annelise are Earth parents of). Their experience of pregnancy, labor and delivery were all profoundly impactful for Carlos. Becoming a father again (a whole 24 years after the birth of Azul Niño, who has become a regular artistic collaborator with Carlos) he felt total Inspiration for this set of recordings, and hence it is perhaps the most conceptually-grounded Carlos Niño & Friends album we've yet to present – fully connected to the spirit of family, birth, and "how we get here."

Placenta is the fourth collection of broadly imaginative and highly collaborative Carlos Niño & Friends music released on International Anthem in the last four years. It is also the first new music to be released by Carlos Niño & Friends following the November 2023 release of André 3000’s New Blue Sun – an album which Carlos produced alongside André, while co-writing, co-creating/playing, and co-mixing every song. Placenta is announced on April 11th, 2024, a date chosen because it is the 1st solar return of Moss Niño (a new being in human form, who Carlos and his partner Annelise are Earth parents of). Their experience of pregnancy, labor and delivery were all profoundly impactful for Carlos. Becoming a father again (a whole 24 years after the birth of Azul Niño, who has become a regular artistic collaborator with Carlos) he felt total Inspiration for this set of recordings, and hence it is perhaps the most conceptually-grounded Carlos Niño & Friends album we've yet to present – fully connected to the spirit of family, birth, and "how we get here."

Hear before you is an ecstatic new standalone 2-track EP. A simmering and evocative exploration in contemporary spiritual jazz, nature/space music, and spontaneous composition. Elysian Invocation / “Pollen on the Earth” is a soaring, life-affirming longform dialogue between a cast of stellar musicians, every artist in symbiosis with each other and the work’s organic beating heart. Made from guitar, drums, saxophone, synthesis, percussion, and the scorching, fluid Voice of Saul Williams, the pieces commune with many worlds, natural, cosmological, and humanmade, full of fire and full of vision. Elysian Invocation begins with a rising gale of percussion and interplaying melodic lines before Williams’ righteous calling becomes the focus, both dreamlike in its imagery and incendiary in its authenticity. As vocalist (the Pan Afrikan Peoples Arkestra member) Maia the Artiste repeats our culture is burning / sound the alarm over a tempest of intense, expressive energy, we are drawn into the eye of a cleansing, regenerative storm. The piece was recorded at Leaving Records’ regular Listen to Music Outside in the Daylight Under a Tree live series in LA, here for a California wildfires fundraiser event on Saturday, February 8, 2025. “Pollen on the Earth” was recorded at the Earthstar Creation Center, in Venice, California in May 2025. The piece sees Niño and Williams in collaboration with LA indigenous group Aztlan Unearthed. It opens with mesoamerican percussion and flute in dialogue, a devotional and ancestral storytelling made magic by the sensitivity of their playing. Soon, birdsong, horns and wordless chants enter and the handdrum rhythms become more entrancing, carrying us on their movement. Saul Williams’ spoken word enters as the ceremony simmers down, rhythmic and lyrical in expressive baritone. The piece calls for awareness, care, activism, and courage, to truly be in tune with Earth and Spirit.

The 2018 live performance captured on Carlos Niño & Miguel Atwood-Ferguson’s 'Chicago Waves' marked a beautiful turning point for International Anthem. The moment was recorded at our then-HQ in Chicago, Co-Prosperity, the day after Niño and Atwood-Ferguson performed as part of Makaya McCraven’s ensemble to celebrate the release of 'Universal Beings' and recreate their contributions to that album's “Los Angeles Side."

The two musicians were keen to use their time in Chicago to not only support Makaya's music but also create and present fresh sounds of their own to a receptive new community. In many ways this set of improvisational, exploratory conversation between Atwood-Ferguson’s violin/effects and Niño’s percussion/soundscapes cemented the growing interchange between International Anthem's bases in LA and the Windy City.

The 2020 release of this recording as 'Chicago Waves' magnified the unmistakable sound of togetherness audible in its grooves in a way that was uniquely cathartic given the difficulties, restrictions, and widespread social isolation of those times. But as that era fades further into the rearview mirror, 'Chicago Waves' maintains its power. It’s not a mystery—this is what togetherness sounds like.

The IA11 Edition LP features our IARC 2025 obi strip, plus a new 16-page 11x11" insert booklet with additional photos and extensive new liner notes by IARC co-founder Scott McNiece.

Free, Dancing . . . is the first release by a new trio with percussionist and producer Carlos Niño, luminary multi-instrumentalist Idris Ackamoor (of The Pyramids) and wizard guitarist, producer Nate Mercereau. They have been playing concerts together in California since June 2022, sharing a unique vibrant sound, findings and energetics...

‘Quintela’, the debut album by Carme López, a performer, teacher and researcher of traditional oral music from Galicia, is a new experimental work for Galician bagpipe. Influenced by the approach of composers like Éliane Radigue or Pauline Oliveros, the Spanish composer creates slowly modulating sound environments, and stretches the sonic the possibilities of the bagpipe to its absolute limit. ‘Quintela’ is structured in four movements, plus a prologue and an epilogue, which serve as a link to the contemporary language of the instrument.

The bagpipe is strongly tied to traditional musics; its use in different genres and musical contexts is extremely limited and unimaginative. ‘Quintela’ brings it to a wholly unknown field, decontextualising the bagpipe in order to elevate a personal approach, and leaving behind its male-dominated past (in which it relates to ideas of prestige, dominance or carries even sexual connotations). López expertly demonstrates its grandeur and breadth; the music on ‘Quintela’ ranges from barely audible sounds of air passing through the hide bag through rhythmical use of its reeds to all-encompassing drones with complex harmonic structures and vibrant overtones.

The narrative arc focuses on the composer’s past, its people and places, and could be conceived as a journey in and of itself. A homage to those in our memories, but also a step into the unknown, ‘Quintela’ is an ambitious, graceful and captivating debut.<iframe style="border: 0; width: 350px; height: 340px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=1107883793/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless><a href="https://carmelopez.bandcamp.com/album/quintela">Quintela by Carme López</a></iframe>

Carmen Villain ponders the significance of reflection in all its forms on 'Memoria', overdubbing flutes, strings and trumpet (supplied by Johanna Orellana, André Bratten, Ole Henrik Moe and Eivind Lønning) with vanishing, effervescent rhythms and spiritual dissonances. It's her weightiest transmission to date, a properly focused fusion of deep listening, dub techno and fourth world jazz that's essential listening FFO Actress, Pole, Jon Hassell, Laurel Halo. There's a scene in Apichatpong Weerasethakul's 'Memoria' where Tilda Swinton's character is sitting with a sound engineer, trying to describe a mysterious booming sound she heard during the night. He scrolls through samples - a meme-able moment that'll be familiar to even the most casual producer - until her memory is triggered and she can make a connection. Carmen Hillestad assumes that role on her fifth album, considering the cultural significance of memory but neatly avoiding nostalgia, something she discerningly refers to as solipsistic introspection. Hillestad posits that deep listening is a way for us to relate more profoundly with our surroundings, using sonic triggers to provoke a cosmic level of contemplation that should be familiar to anyone who stuck around long enough with Weerasethakul's film to catch the blink-and-you'll-miss-it finale. We get a brief taster of what that might mean with opener 'Labour of Imagination', when Orellana's flutes and Hillestad's own clarinet are reshaped into cloudy atmospherics, one part sublime ambiance, one part hallucinogenic free jazz. The album's aesthetic backbone is revealed on 'Entre Nosotros', a slithering, decelerated monster of a track that fogs its Andy Stott-style chug with circuitous piano improvisations that only become properly visible after a few plays. The crucial moment comes when the beat disappears completely and what's left isn't silence, but tape hiss, echo trails and dissonances from Hillestad's processes. As the track draws to a close, the piano dissolves completely; listen in the background and you won't catch it, zoom in a little and you'll be hypnotised, we promise. And on the title track, we're served with an expansion of the themes Hillestad introduced us to on that genius 'Holding a Shape' 12” a few weeks back. Referencing Pole, Torsten Pröfrock, Rhythm & Sound and Mille Plateaux's 'Clicks & Cuts' anthologies, she uses our associations with dub and the glitch aesthetic to guide us to a false conclusion. The beat never really comes, instead a loose rhythm forms from vibrating subs and vertiginous, whooshing echoes. Hillestad buries her concept in the details: the ghost rhythms that manifest and vanish like electrical interferences and the weightless drone that flickers unsteadily in the backdrop until the track's final, profound moments. In a way, it's the antithesis of the "power ambient" sound - just when you think it’ll all get steamrolled by distortion, Hillestad pulls back and reveals a different emotional layer instead. Honestly, we hear more jazz in this than what gets passed off as ambient these days. Like its predecessors, 'Memoria' is still shepherded by the influence of Jon Hassell's fourth world - just check the shimmering 'Hope Synapses', for example - but at this stage in her career, Hillestad has made it entirely her own. Her music isn't reducible to a single element or single inspiration, it's a deeply personal alloy of philosophies and ideas that she's considered and refined over the course of five albums and a handful of EPs and singles. And the more attention you give it, the more you’ll discover.

Music taken from the Carte Blanche performance "Monument 0.10 : The Living Monument" by Eszter Salamon. This album contains selections from Carmen Villain's score for the two-and-a-half hour performance, most of them edited down from the long-form versions that accompanied the ultra-slow scenes of the performance. These are Carmen Villain's first compositions for dance. Acclaimed Choreographer Eszter Salamon’s dance performance The Living Monument is built on still life, slowness and the presence of the body. In the performance, the theatrical elements are equal and interdependent, and it develops into an installation of sound, movement and figures. Each tableau is bound together by Carmen Villain’s hypnotic score in which the audience is taken on a meditative journey through vibrant tableaus in a dreamlike universe. Carmen Villain's score is a suspension of time where her music is seeking a new form of slow-moving minimalism.

Carmen's new 3 track EP gives a sense of where she might be heading next on her musical journey. On Nutrition, the submerged influence of dub seen in a lot of her earlier work has risen more prominently to the surface. Carmen describes the tracks as "some dub studies born out of my continued fascination with the form. I’m in a period where I just keep going back to experimenting with beats and rhythms". Nutrition is set for release on 25 October 2024 through Smalltown Supersound.

US-born, Norwegian-Mexican artist and producer Carmen Villain's fourth album Only Love From Now On is out February 25th, 2022 on Smalltown Supersound. The culmination of a build-up that began with a turn in sound evident on 2019's Both Lines Will Be Blue, Only Love From Now On presents Villain’s aesthetic blossoming into something unexpected, benevolent in its composure and altogether luxuriant in its sensuality.If her themes are wide, philosophical, and occasionally abstract, the emotional tenor of Hillestad's music is clear and purposeful. Makes sense that her key musical touchstones are dub, ambient, and cosmic jazz – flexible vehicles for tranquil wonder.Listening to Only Love From Now On is simultaneously comforting and alluringly strange. Partly it’s the contributions of guests Arve Henriksen (trumpet, electronics) and Johanna Scheie Orellana (flutes). Partly it’s the fluidity between instruments – such as clarinets – field recordings, the studio, jam, and careful composition. She calls the process a conversation with sound that occurs in her deliberate attempts to experiment with new methods, like granular synthesis, for her music-making.Only Love From Now On is fueled by the sense of scale in feeling small in the face of things so large, the contemplation of how the biggest impact we can have is in the people close to us, the attempt to make sure that impact is a positive one, and the choice to try to focus on love instead of fear. Hillestad describes it as "wishing to maintain a sense of careful optimism for the future, while on the cusp of something unknown."

Carol Maia & Jeremy Gustin’s haunting collaborative album is the result of a long distance partnership during which tracks were traded back and forth across thousands of miles, Jeremy working from his home studio in Brooklyn and Carol from hers in Rio De Janeiro. Later they enlisted support from a number of key players in the Rio scene, Frederico Heliodoro, Paulo Emmery, Ricardo Dias Gomes, and from Brooklyn’s musical community, Will Graefe and Ryan Dugre, to shape this understated masterpiece of sophisticated global pop and quiet experimentalism. It's hard to describe what Carol, Jeremy and their guests have achieved on 'it's nice to see a lake in your eyes', a kind of pop music that stands outside of time and is neither Brazilian, American or of any other recognisable place. Maybe it's risen out of the lake they imagined into being? Maybe it's formed like rain in the thousands of miles of air between Rio and New York? Whatever happened was certainly alchemical as you will hear. Carol told me her writing on this record was greatly influenced by her reading of Marcelo Ariel's poetry book "A água veio do sol, disse o breu" so maybe the best thing to do to describe this music is to let you read one of his poems: A luz do ser é como a água também veio do Sol onde todos os planetas querem entrar Dentro do Sol O ser é imóvel como a gratuidade de um êxtase parecido com a respiração Fora do Sol o ser é móvel Tempo eternidade e tempo cronológico (Translation) The light of being is like water it also came from the Sun where all the planets want to enter Within the Sun Being is immobile like the gratuitousness of an ecstasy similar to breathing Outside the Sun Being is mobile Time eternal and chronological time

先鋭的英国のテクノ・プロデューサー、ShiftedこもGuy Brewerが"Carrier"名義で放つ最新作『FATHOM』が、Perko主宰の〈FELT〉よりリリース。ミニマルな構造の中にドラムンベースのリズムを再構築し、金属的な質感と抽象的なサウンドデザインが融合した全4曲を収録。幻覚的な抽象性を帯びたグリッチ・プログラミングと霧のようなアトモスフィアが特徴的な"FATHOM"や粘性のあるベースと点滅するパルスが印象に残る"The Cusp"、有機的なディテールが際立つ"Trooper"など、IDM、実験的テクノ、アブストラクト・エレクトロニカの愛好者にとって、現代的なリズムとサウンドの探求が詰まった一枚！

Mutant steppers techno maverick Carrier caps 2024 with a doublepack of the sought-after first two 12”s issued on his own label - both now trading for twice the price 2nd hand - comprising some of the deadliest, most stripped down twists on club music fundamentals of the decade so far - big one if yr into T++, Photek, Chain Reaction, Burial.

 

 

As Carrier, Guy Brewer has rigorously consolidated his fascinations with technoid dance music physics to proper, cult acclaim. Distilling the rolling pressure of his D&B work as half of Commix with the granite hewn heft of his techno streak as Shifted, and the finely spaced pressure of his sound design that defined his Alexander Lewis and Covered In Sand bits, the project has come to represent the bleeding edge of club music in a way mistakenly thought lost to a previous era. 

 

 

The bloody-minded focus on his thing has resulted in a frankly jaw-dropping new sound that still conveys the increasingly rarer rush of the new that we once felt hearing Photek and Source Direct in the late ‘90s, or in the refined rolige of Autechre and T++/Monolake 12”s in the ‘00s, thru the mutations of 2562 and A Made Up Sound, or Raime’s writhing shapeshifting into the 2010s. Fair to say those lineages were fractured by Covid-enforced dancefloor downtime, but Carrier still holds their principles of obsessively tight, syncopated percussion and subbass rhythm programming and proprioceptive sound design close to heart with diehard, visionary effect.

 

 

From the squashed woodblock drums and dry concrète tone of ‘Into the Habit’ and rugged techno dub  of ’Shading’, thru the tendon-tweak lean of ’Still So’ on the ‘Neither Curve Nor Edge’ 12”, and over to the pressure of his subaquatic shimmy in ‘Coastal’, or lip-bitingly taut 2-step swivel of ’Wood Over Plastic’ on the ‘In Spectra’ 12”; his skeletal rhythm trax dare to dance in lesser heard but wholly vital niches of club music in a way that plays to club needs, not wants. 

 

 

No hyperbole, it’s just 100% deadly if you ask we, and makes the other 99% of dance music producers right now sound like line-dancing copycats in relief of his sound: a painstakingly chiselled pursuit of the dragon that drove UK dance music - particular the ‘hardcore ‘nuum - to thrilling, inspirational degrees from the late ‘80s thru the ‘90s and into the present. After wriggling our socks off to his new live set on The White Hotel’s faithful rig a few weeks ago, we can only confirm he’s the best to do it right now, and this doublepack is fucking unmissable if you follow.

 

 

For the dancers, DJs!

</p><iframe style="border: 0; width: 350px; height: 274px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=246103884/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless><a href="https://0207carrier.bandcamp.com/album/neither-curve-nor-edge">Neither Curve Nor Edge by Carrier</a></iframe><iframe style="border: 0; width: 350px; height: 241px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=3759117354/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless><a href="https://0207carrier.bandcamp.com/album/in-spectra">In Spectra by Carrier</a></iframe>

With Rhythm Immortal, Carrier — the project of Guy Brewer (formerly of Commix and Shifted) — makes a remarkable full-length debut that expands his intricate rhythmic world into deeper, slower, and more textural terrain.

Since first surfacing with 12”s for FELT and his own label, Carrier has become a touchstone for those drawn to the intersection of precision, space, and pulse. Brewer’s debut album distils the essence of drum & bass, dub techno and electro-acoustic minimalism into eight finely carved movements where every percussive fragment feels alive.

Appearing alongside guest collaborators Voice Actor and Memotone, Brewer navigates between noirish ambience and tightly coiled rhythmic design — from the hovering tension of ‘Offshore’ to the hypnotic sway of ‘A Point Most Crucial’. Tracks such as ‘Outer Shell’ and ‘Wave After Wave’ balance heady abstraction with physical propulsion, creating a sound equally suited to introspection or motion.

Previewed at Berlin Atonal 2025, Rhythm Immortal confirms Carrier as a singular voice in modern electronic music — a producer devoted to rhythm as both structure and spirit.

RIYL: Photek, Rhythm & Sound, Torsten Pröfrock, Burial.

"A growing, single-minded confidence in his thing practically makes time stand still and places us right in the moment and momentum of the music. Crucially, whilst clearly referencing foundational styles, it’s a masterclass in innovation not imitation" - boomkat

Carrier presents Tender Spirits, the third turn on his eponymous series that explores his abstractions at its most sparse and cerebral.

Space maintains great purpose for Guy Brewer, having experimented with this previously for multiple drum-focused missives as Carrier. On his latest release, he treads deeper into the furthest regions of dub deconstruction, with Tender Spirits offering a serene path to the inbetween.

Across 8+ minutes, Light Candles, To Mark The Way moves towards the muted sublime; a gentle half time’d bliss that ebbs and floats across the enveloping mist. Slow Punctures gradually returns to dusk, eerily surveying the hollowed-out remains of its dub architecture with an off-kilter lurch. Carpathian echoes further in stark reduction, a weightless atonal zone anchored by the abstracted pressure suspended within.

Tender Spirits tracks Carrier at exciting new parallels, unfurling his most ascendant and capacious music to date.