Ambient / Minimal / Drone
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Originally created in 1987 as an image album for a luxury Sanyo air-conditioner, Get at the Wave stands as one of the most surprising and enduring works of Japanese ambient music. Recorded using synthesizers and natural field recordings, the album was designed to transport listeners far from the heat and noise of urban life — into open water, gentle wind, and unhurried space. Kokubo's mastery as an acoustic environment designer is present in every texture, blending electronic composition with an almost physical sense of atmosphere and place. Intimate, expansive, and quietly radical, Get at the Wave is an essential document of kankyō ongaku — and one that sounds more necessary than ever.
The first ever reissue and remastering of Jon Hassell & Farafina’s prescient, “Fourth World” masterwork. Propulsive Burkinese rhythms meet revelatory, ambient soundscapes. Co-produced with the legendary studio team of Brian Eno & Daniel Lanois. “[Hassell’s] command of microtonal shadings enabled him to blend into the West Africans' distinctive sonic colorations, which would not have been possible for a player whose intonation conformed strictly to Western music's equal temperament.” – Robert Palmer, New York Times Composer and trumpeter Jon Hassell has been an elusive, iconic musical figure for more than half a century. He’s best known as the pioneer and propagandist of “Fourth World” music, mixing technology with the tradition and spirituality of non-western cultures to create what he termed the “coffee-colored classical music of the future.” In 1987 he joined with Farafina, the acclaimed percussion, voice, and dance troupe from Burkina Faso, to record Flash of the Spirit. While the album is a natural extension of those “Fourth World” ideas, and a new strand of Possible Musics, it also a distinctive outlier in the careers of both artists; an unrepeated merging of sounds whose influence still reverberates today. Hassell arrived as the outsider, having to slide in and around Farafina, an established group that started in 1978 where the leader, as he told Music Technology, was “somewhat inflexible in terms of new things. They were suspicious at first…about what could happen and why this whole thing was going on.” But once settled in the studio, the musicians sparked off each other. The eight members of the band - who had also collaborated with the Rolling Stones and Ryuichi Sakamoto - brought their long apprenticed, virtuosic drumming and melodic textures (balafon, flute, voices) to the sessions. They built up layers and patterns of rhythm, while producers Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois (fresh off the phenomenal success of U2’s Joshua Tree) created a sonic atmosphere in which they could creatively intertwine with Hassell’s digitally processed trumpet and keyboards. Just the physical feel of the drums in the room was enough to inspire Hassell. “There’s something about the volume of air that drums pump, there is a wonder quality about it that’s impossible to find any place else,” he recalled. “Even if you sampled all that and tried to duplicate it, I don’t think it would have the same feel.” The experiment took root. Despite their initial skepticism, the musicians from Farafina ended up relishing their interaction with the studio team and the trumpeter/conceptualist Hassell. Souleymane “Mani” Sanou, Farafina’s band leader from the early 90’s on, remarked: “traditional instruments, they can meet with electronic and modern music; so collaborations are so important to us…yes, with Jon Hassell, the experience was amazing.” The music that emerged was rich and groundbreaking, a move to transcend the boundaries between jazz, avant-garde classical, ambient and the deep rhythmic tradition embodied by Farafina. But of course, Hassell had been slowly blurring and ignoring such boundaries for years. He’d served an apprenticeship with Stockhausen, worked with minimalists Terry Riley and LaMonte Young, studied Indian music under Pandit Pran Nath, and collaborated with artists like Talking Heads, Peter Gabriel and David Sylvian, as well as forging a path into ambient music, through an especially fruitful partnership with Brian Eno on the albums Fourth World, Vol.1: Possible Musics and Dream Theory in Malaya. Hassell’s ideas of melody and rhythm had moved beyond the confines of Western music, out into borderless, imagined spaces, and in Farafina he found the ideal companions in exploration. It’s an album of subtle, telling details, where the layers and textures build and change to highlight each other. On “Out Pours,” for instance, the groove simmers softly, led by shifting patterns on the balafon, while Hassell’s heavily treated trumpet creates breathy swirls of sound that play and dance around them. Percussion leads on “A Vampire Dances,” pushing and probing and seeming to force electronic shrieks as a response from Hassell’s trumpet, while the keyboard creates a bed of sound that refuses to hold still. “(Like) Warriors Everywhere” takes that idea even further. Over Farafina’s surging rhythms, Hassell’s electric piano and trumpet dig deep into abstract, melodic ideas hinted at by the Bitches Brew-era Miles Davis band. What’s apparent is how carefully the musicians listen to each other and the ways in which they respond; the spaces become as important as the notes. Every piece of music is alive. It breathes, it changes and grows. Farafina create the rhythms and counter-rhythms that spring and move, making room for Hassell’s explorations. They affect him, and in turn what he plays alters what they do. It’s symbiotic; each inspires the other. The trumpet techniques that Hassell developed to play the microtones of Indian music – electronic and acoustic – let him easily slide through the music. He becomes part of the whole, his trumpet another voice in the band, rather than an imposed, outside Western instrument – achieving one of the aims of the “Fourth World” credo, to create a new, natural trans-cultural harmony. And nowhere is that harmony more apparent than on the epic final track, “Masque,” where percussion and treated trumpet draw the listener along on a journey through shifting landscapes that transform into unexpected colors with every turn. It becomes a series of discoveries that startle and delight and sometimes confound. On its release 32 years ago, Flash of the Spirit was a revelation, a record that had no clear parallel for its encompassing sound. Even today, now that the musical world has caught up with much of Jon Hassell’s vision, it still feels especially vibrant. The album remains a testament to both the influence Hassell has quietly exerted on contemporary music, and the forward-looking traditionalism of Farafina, one of West Africa’s great rhythmic ensembles. As walls and barriers are erected around the globe, it is hard not to think of the music found on Flash of the Spirit as ever more relevant. An echo from the past. Still transmitting future possibilities.
For more than three decades, Go Hirano has developed a quietly enthralling sound world on the peripheries of the Japanese underground. Emerging in the 1990s, Hirano released three albums with the revered PSF Records label and established himself as an artist with a unique sense of melody and atmosphere that was both entrancing and intimate. His work, largely recorded at home and in the field, de-emphasized technical perfection in favor of an unvarnished immediacy that imbued the quiet moments of daily life with a dreamlike splendor.
On The Habit, Hirano brings together recordings that span decades of his playing the piano and other instruments on a daily basis. The core of the album was recorded in 2020 at Pianola Records in Tokyo, while other pieces draw from recordings dating as far back as the late 1980s. Through this span of years, a coherent vision emerges, marked by patient, subtle engagement with repetition, space, and resonance. Hirano works with a restrained palette—piano, pianica, wind chime, percussion, and synthesizer—to develop simple melodic figures that gradually shift in harmony and texture. Spacious piano chords expand through soft synthesizer tones. Near-imperceptible rhythmic frameworks intertwine with tranquil phrases that drift and merge with the sounds of the world around them.
This synthesis of music and the environment in which it is created is critical to Hirano's approach. Rather than isolating the music from its surroundings, he embraces the atmosphere of the moment, the room in which each piece is played, capturing the subtle sounds and artifacts of the artist’s daily experience and the surrounding natural world. For Hirano, these “imperfections” are pathways to vibrant, living expression.
While he may share affinities with Ryuichi Sakamoto, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and even Brian Eno, Hirano's dedication to “initial, unadorned expression” and processing the environment through his own particular filter sets him apart. The Habit reveals a meditative, melodic language unfolding over the decades and within the many spaces of a life in music marked by a unique warmth and beauty.
Loving You To Death is very much about being with someone who is hurting you by hurting themself, knowing you should leave but that you can’t live without them. It’s mostly about one night, or one period of time? I don’t really know anymore, but maybe you can relate. Before writing this I was obsessed with stretching out my little moody riffs into long drawn out ambient pieces, throwing them through the morphagene and seeing what happens. But there is just way too much sound design around me, everything is so slick and impressive and boring and unmemorable. So I tried to keep everything bare, to accept the recordings as they are and to do it without a band. Long live mid-fi, dramatic relationships, obsessiveness, sing-song melodies and unprofessionalism, and huge thanks to Ariana, Matt, Adam, Yas, Nik, Victor, Ouri, Ziggy, my mom, Alan, and everyone else I drove crazy while making this.
This is just sublime: Stroom & Hessel Veldman illuminate 13 unreleased gems by a sacred figure of ‘80s DIY Dutch tape music, nestling deeply precious, noctilucent synth works for lovers of BoC, Eno & Harmonia, Vangelis, Tangerine Dream & Klaus Schulze, Dominique Lawalrée...
Trust the Lowlands standard bearers at Stroom to pluck this quietly breathtaking bouquet from behind the ear of DIY synth and ambient music history. Adding to prized reissues of Enno Velthuys’ work over the past decade - from albums to songs secreted on comps for LSD and Light in the Attic - ‘Music From the Other Side of the Fence’ helps fill gaps in the patchy knowledge of his cultish catalogue 1975-1990. While the label are being typically, poetically playful with background info, a crudely educated guess can assign pieces to recordings that made up his four cassettes issued 1982-1987, but it’s better taken as a lovingly sequenced overview of his harmonious short stories, each riddled with an exquisite atmospheric magick that tiles up to an adorable portrait of the troubled artist.
If memory serves, it was a pair of LSD comps that first anonymously seeded Velthuys’ ohrwurms ‘Blue Heron’ & ‘The Day After’ to our lugs, at least, and it wasn’t until a reissue of their motherships ‘Landscapes in Thin Air’ (1985) & ‘Different Places’ (1987) that things began to fall in place. A slightly broader picture now emerges via this new raft of signature, woozy arabesques and powdered ambient pads threaded with a feel for extended melody that ties it all off with a ribbon bow. A solitary, melancholic presence guides from the frosted carillon of ’Something Special’ thru the reedy romance of ‘Uplands (Unplugged Alt Version 2)’, sashaying to types of aerial waltz in ‘Underneath a Dark Sky’ and slowed, Vangelisian brass fanfare with ‘Moonlight Serenade’ that surely shiver nostalgic timbers with an evocative, tongue-tip timbre that tickles places others don’t reach.
100% no brainer for hopeless ambient synth romantics and introverts.
The Vinyl Factory presents a brand new Ryoji Ikeda release. music for strings comprises three works written between 2020 and 2023, commissioned by Ensemble Modern, Muziekgebouw aan 't IJ, and DTzM, and built entirely around the physical behaviour of bowed strings.
“In 2016, I had a series of audiovisual concerts at a festival in Kyoto. Ensemble Modern from Frankfurt was there, performing a large piece by Heiner Goebbels. We became friends, and years later, in 2021, they commissioned me to create a new piece for their 2023 season,” Ikeda explains. “Through a workshop with their players, I decided to focus exclusively on strings”.
REFLECTION [for string nonet], op.13 has all nine players locked into a seven-eight rhythm, but staggered so the parts seem to answer each other.
PRISM [for string nonet], op.14 takes the idea of white light splitting into a spectrum and applies it to sound, with Ikeda working through almost the entire pitch range of the ensemble, pulling out clusters of notes the way a prism pulls out colour.
MIRROR [one for two], op.12 is built on a sheet of music where the staff notation is mirrored, allowing it to be read simultaneously from both the normal and opposite directions. As a result, two players share the single notation, performing together while reading it in opposite directions.
“For many years, I had ideas for MIRROR [one for two] that exists only as a dream. It seems simple, but it is extremely difficult to make sense of due to its very restricted rule. At the start, I decided to tackle this piece,” says Ikeda.
“Another dream of mine was to form a string ensemble arranged linearly on stage. Usually players perform in a semicircular formation to see each other. A linear formation, however, denies this visual connection. The challenge was implemented with PRISM [for string nonet] and REFLECTION [for string nonet].”
Performed by Ensemble Modern and recorded by SWR, the work premiered in Amsterdam on 8 February 2024 before its UK premiere at the Barbican on 20 February 2026.
Ryoji Ikeda, Japan’s leading electronic composer and visual artist Ryoji Ikeda focuses on the essential characteristics of sound itself and that of visuals as light by means of both mathematical precision and mathematical aesthetics. Ikeda has gained a reputation as one of the few international artists working convincingly across both visual and sonic media.
He elaborately orchestrates sound, visuals, materials, physical phenomena and mathematical notions into immersive live performances and installations.
Eklekto Eklekto is a contemporary percussion collective founded in 1974 in Geneva. Constantly seeking to reinvent percussion music, the group collaborates with living composers and contemporary artists through concerts, multimedia projects and artistic events that question the listener’s expectations towards new musical forms.
Eklekto has premiered over 100 new works and performed hundreds of internationally acclaimed shows.
code name: A-Z by Ryoji Ikeda comprises 26 sonic frequencies which form an audio conversation derived from the US military use of Morse code. Pressed on clear 12" vinyl with 13 locked grooves on each side and the title of each hand etched into the grooves.
Initially released on the occasion of Elevation 2017, an arts festival in Gstaad produced by LUMA Foundation, where Ryoji presented a site-specific installation of Test Pattern.
The second release from Ojas Music, Elyria Sound is a solo guitar album from Michael A. Muller, recorded to analog tape during a winter storm in Brooklyn in January 2026. Where Muller's previous work operated in darker, atmospheric territories, and 2024's Mirror Music wove together 11 collaborators, Elyria Sound strips everything back to a single voice: one instrument, one room, one take. Each piece was captured live in single passes to a one-inch tape machine, the most direct path from fingertip to magnetic oxide. The album title traces to 2018, when Muller began writing solo music while housesitting for a friend in Elyria Canyon in the East Los Angeles hills. The address became the name of his studio, and when he moved to LA shortly after, it became a way of life for the next six years. Elyria Sound is an intimate homage to his sensorial world of that time: the quality of light through a kitchen window. The lull of helicopters and sirens, the blurred glimmer of city lights stretching to the night horizon. Gravel, dust, lizards, birds. Clacking bamboo, white rose, jade, fig, and lemon. A dwelling. A resting place. The comfort of an exhale, and the looming awareness that nothing stays. To create the record, Muller developed entirely new guitar tunings, forcing himself to relearn the instrument's language from scratch. The result moves between lullaby and lament: spare, cyclical compositions where motifs recur at differing angles and tempos, variations on a central thread. One piece, "Arundel," pays tribute to David Pajo (Papa M, Slint, Tortoise), a nod to the lineage of guitar music that values texture and patience over drama. The cover artwork by Dennis Foster serves as a visual counterbalance to the music's intended simplicity.
Named after a now-shuttered nightspot that overlooked the beach on Italy's picturesque Tuscan coast, Maxime Denuc's 'Club Imperiale' is a work of speculative historical fiction, a record that imagines a point of creative symbiosis between the Catholic church and the ecstatic dancefloors of the early '90s. Using a MIDI-controlled pipe organ, Denuc creates dense clouds of impossible-to-play notes that ricochet backwards and forwards through history, from Rome's reverberant cathedrals to the white, sandy beaches of the Balearic Islands. Not simply an album of trance and techno music performed on the organ, 'Club Imperiale' is a byzantine mass of references and lived experiences that considers the physical impact of sound, architecture and setting - and Denuc can trace its genesis to a single moment. Two years ago, the Brussels-based French composer was forwarded a surprising video by a Belgian fan. It was shot during a Wedding at a church in Menorca, where the organist was playing 'Infinite End', the lead track from 2022's 'Nachthorn'. Immediately, Denuc knew that this was the thematic backdrop he'd been waiting for; he imagined the aftermath of the event, wandering through small villages and teetering on a cliff's edge, finding a provincial nightclub and retracing his steps back to the beach to witness the sunrise.
This time around, Denuc was gifted the time and the access he needed to fully refine his concept. The technical side of the process had already been solved; after recording 'Nachthorn', he was now very confident with his system, able to control the pipe organ's keyboards, stops and pedals incredibly precisely using Max/MSP and OpenSoundControl, or OSC. And his relationship with the St. Antonius Church in Düsseldorf had deepened significantly. The cantor offered him a three or four days each month for a year to record the project and Denuc jumped at the chance. He moved into a small apartment nearby and spent every available hour behind the organ, working from 9AM until 5PM, stopping for mass and then returning for another long session, heading back to his studio on the off days to listen back to the recordings and plan fresh approaches. This allowed him to sculpt the experience meticulously, thinking about the history of sacred music and considering the real reasons that its compositions have lingered in the secular consciousness for so long. He wanted to concentrate on the visceral acoustic qualities of the church itself, so used a spatial multi-microphone setup to situate listeners between the concrete walls, fabricating an acoustic experience that's multi-dimensional and cinematic.
And the music itself also had to completely validate Denuc's themes. His compositions needed to feel like waves lapping at the shore, humid air rushing through aging pipes and hazy rave memories imprinting themselves on pliant brains. So on opening track 'Hallucinogen', Denuc reaches back to the mid-'90s directly, directly referencing 'LSD', an enduring psychedelic trance anthem penned by Shpongle's Simon Posford. The track interpolates a minuscule section of Posford's original, mapping its brain-tickling squelches to the pipe organ and using the church's natural reverb to capture the vast majesty of the building. "I tried to construct a whole world on top of it," Denuc explains. The album's aquatic themes meanwhile make themselves visible on 'Atlantis', the first example of Denuc's most recent compositional breakthrough, when he realized that using extremely short note repetitions he could create a seemingly continuous drone that shimmered like the surface of water. Imagining a dazzling white church in the Balearics, Denuc pens a revisionist trance anthem on 'Everytime', enhancing the imagery that inspired the record and letting the core motif bounce around the church walls.
These core elements course through 'Club Imperiale', folding in on themselves and melting into each other. Using his own hand-built Max/MSP sequencer, Denuc flutters towards the sun on 'La Paloma', noting the similarities between baroque music and progressive trance. And on the title track, Denuc hits the album's dreamy emotional core, a space where the afterparty begins in earnest, heralding the blurry, mirage-like second half of the record, where natural delays and breathy emotional traces seem to dissolve the very fabric of time. Moving through the dramatic 'Plasters Figures' and the '90s music video atmosphere of 'Impreza', 'Club Imperiale' concludes with 'Pegasus', a long chord sequence that heads steadily downwards into contemplative reminiscence, never quite taking flight. Even the best parties come to an end eventually.
Named after a now-shuttered nightspot that overlooked the beach on Italy's picturesque Tuscan coast, Maxime Denuc's 'Club Imperiale' is a work of speculative historical fiction, a record that imagines a point of creative symbiosis between the Catholic church and the ecstatic dancefloors of the early '90s. Using a MIDI-controlled pipe organ, Denuc creates dense clouds of impossible-to-play notes that ricochet backwards and forwards through history, from Rome's reverberant cathedrals to the white, sandy beaches of the Balearic Islands. Not simply an album of trance and techno music performed on the organ, 'Club Imperiale' is a byzantine mass of references and lived experiences that considers the physical impact of sound, architecture and setting - and Denuc can trace its genesis to a single moment. Two years ago, the Brussels-based French composer was forwarded a surprising video by a Belgian fan. It was shot during a Wedding at a church in Menorca, where the organist was playing 'Infinite End', the lead track from 2022's 'Nachthorn'. Immediately, Denuc knew that this was the thematic backdrop he'd been waiting for; he imagined the aftermath of the event, wandering through small villages and teetering on a cliff's edge, finding a provincial nightclub and retracing his steps back to the beach to witness the sunrise.
This time around, Denuc was gifted the time and the access he needed to fully refine his concept. The technical side of the process had already been solved; after recording 'Nachthorn', he was now very confident with his system, able to control the pipe organ's keyboards, stops and pedals incredibly precisely using Max/MSP and OpenSoundControl, or OSC. And his relationship with the St. Antonius Church in Düsseldorf had deepened significantly. The cantor offered him a three or four days each month for a year to record the project and Denuc jumped at the chance. He moved into a small apartment nearby and spent every available hour behind the organ, working from 9AM until 5PM, stopping for mass and then returning for another long session, heading back to his studio on the off days to listen back to the recordings and plan fresh approaches. This allowed him to sculpt the experience meticulously, thinking about the history of sacred music and considering the real reasons that its compositions have lingered in the secular consciousness for so long. He wanted to concentrate on the visceral acoustic qualities of the church itself, so used a spatial multi-microphone setup to situate listeners between the concrete walls, fabricating an acoustic experience that's multi-dimensional and cinematic.
And the music itself also had to completely validate Denuc's themes. His compositions needed to feel like waves lapping at the shore, humid air rushing through aging pipes and hazy rave memories imprinting themselves on pliant brains. So on opening track 'Hallucinogen', Denuc reaches back to the mid-'90s directly, directly referencing 'LSD', an enduring psychedelic trance anthem penned by Shpongle's Simon Posford. The track interpolates a minuscule section of Posford's original, mapping its brain-tickling squelches to the pipe organ and using the church's natural reverb to capture the vast majesty of the building. "I tried to construct a whole world on top of it," Denuc explains. The album's aquatic themes meanwhile make themselves visible on 'Atlantis', the first example of Denuc's most recent compositional breakthrough, when he realized that using extremely short note repetitions he could create a seemingly continuous drone that shimmered like the surface of water. Imagining a dazzling white church in the Balearics, Denuc pens a revisionist trance anthem on 'Everytime', enhancing the imagery that inspired the record and letting the core motif bounce around the church walls.
These core elements course through 'Club Imperiale', folding in on themselves and melting into each other. Using his own hand-built Max/MSP sequencer, Denuc flutters towards the sun on 'La Paloma', noting the similarities between baroque music and progressive trance. And on the title track, Denuc hits the album's dreamy emotional core, a space where the afterparty begins in earnest, heralding the blurry, mirage-like second half of the record, where natural delays and breathy emotional traces seem to dissolve the very fabric of time. Moving through the dramatic 'Plasters Figures' and the '90s music video atmosphere of 'Impreza', 'Club Imperiale' concludes with 'Pegasus', a long chord sequence that heads steadily downwards into contemplative reminiscence, never quite taking flight. Even the best parties come to an end eventually.
Mohammad Reza Mortazavi returns to Latency with Nexus, a full-length album recorded in Berlin that extends his radical reinvention of Persian percussion. Renowned for pushing the tombak and daf into new territory with unprecedented techniques, Mortazavi now incorporates voice, effects, and electronic treatments into his sound for the first time. These additions deepen, rather than depart from, his lifelong exploration of rhythm and resonance. The record opens with ‘Zendegi’ (‘Life’), built from the chant “Woman, Life, Freedom” as a gesture towards his homeland and beyond. Throughout Nexus, Mortazavi explores connection, transformation, and the unseen forces that shape reality, presenting rhythm as both guide and teacher. The album title itself points to a meeting place where energies, ideas, and times converge, capturing its meditative but exploratory spirit. The cover features artwork by American artist and filmmaker Jordan Belson, whose “visual music” aligns with Mortazavi’s trance-inducing percussion language. His hypnotic live shows have reached the Berlin Philharmonie, Paris Pantheon, and Sydney Opera House, while his rhythmic innovations have earned acclaim across experimental and electronic circles, including collaborations with Burnt Friedman and Mark Fell.
It began somewhere between sleep and memory. After first meeting in dreams, in Brussels and Berlin, on landscapes that felt strangely close to Vilnius, Marija Rasa aka emer and Ugnė Uma leisurely rewrote those visions into songs. What followed became a collection of moments suspended in idle summers, familiar faces, gentle motions, skin touched by golden sun. These songs wander through closeness and distance, tracing the delicate emotional shifts between us, who almost understand each other completely. ‘you and me’ lives in the space where magical realism meets everyday intimacy: honey-colored evenings, recurring thoughts, and the slow surrender to things unfolding on their own.
This album is created over the past years with my brother Alfred. This period has been spiritually transformative for me. It reflects the playfulness and authenticity that comes out of releasing deep traumas and healing wounds. This music comes from a deep place of joy and connection with my brother and with the essense of being a child. being filter free and in contact with the most uncomplicated and loving parts of ourselves, still emphasizing magic and mystery, like childhood does without asking for permission or confirmation.
it took me a while to actually see the music as an interconnected piece. I have been taking in and out material, re mixing, removing, rearranging, re producing and regretting all along the way. but suddenly when we mastered this selection on a cassette tape recorder, the meaning started to reveal itself and drawing threads back in time.
bivabippalukka is playfulness, intuition, transition and myths. the page of cups. the ideas rising, the energy flowing, flowers, stars and jumping creatures on the verge of dimensions. fortune telling, magic cards, secret caves and things that disappear right in front of you.
many talented guests playing with me and my visions on the album.
bossa nova is the most comforting genre for me. and we need comfort in these times. we need comfort to heal and feel joy to be able to keep dreaming and manifesting - and transmuting the world.
i am not gonna play this music live in the form it appears. i will still continue playing spiritual ambient music. this work is something else. it is pocket of joy, a cup with a fish. it is a step on the journey, like everything else.
maya ongaku has always been searching for what exists just beyond the edge of perception. Since forming in the seaside towns surrounding Enoshima, the trio has followed a path guided less by intention than intuition, allowing songs, ideas, and experiences to emerge through a process they describe as 自然発生 (shizen hassei), spontaneous occurrence. Nothing Space Music is the deepest expression of that philosophy to date. Written in the aftermath of several years of international touring, the album emerged from a growing desire to reconnect with silence. As stages became larger and the world around them moved faster, the band found themselves drawn toward the quieter spaces beneath it all. What began as a reflection on stillness & silence eventually expanded into the idea of "Nothing Space". To realise the album, maya ongaku created an entirely new environment for themselves. Near a seaside shrine in their hometown, the trio transformed a large soundproof building into Nothing Space Studio, a space built specifically around the needs of this record. Nothing Space Music: a meditation on presence, perception, and the possibility of rediscovering the world through attentive listening.
2024 Repress. Essential stuff from Finnish legend, Mika Vaino ( Ø, Pan Sonic ++ + +).
One for the headphone amp / hi fi sound system crew.
Minimal & reduced nordic techno and electronics - Mika Vaino's second album from 1996 - only released on vinyl for the first time in 2019.
Netherlands-based artist Jonny Nash returns to Melody As Truth with his new solo album, ‘Once Was Ours Forever.’ Building on 2023’s ‘Point Of Entry,’ this collection of eleven compositions draws us further into Nash’s immersive, slowly expanding world, effortlessly connecting the dots somewhere between folk,
ambient jazz and dreampop.
While ‘Point Of Entry’ was characterised by it’s laid-back, daytime ambience, ‘Once Was Ours Forever’
arrives wrapped in shades of dusk and hazy light, unfolding like a slow-moving sunset. Built from layers of gentle fingerpicked guitar, textural brush strokes, floating melodies and reverb-soaked vocals, moments come and go, fleeting and ephemeral.
From the cosmic Americana of ‘Bright Belief’ to the lush, layered shoegaze textures of ‘The Way Things Looked’, Nash’s versatile guitar playing lies at the heart of this album, gently supported by a cast of
collaborators who each add their unique touches. Canadian ambient jazz saxophonist Joseph Shabason makes a return appearance, providing his delicate swells to ‘Angel.’ Saxophone is also provided by Shoei Ikeda (Maya Ongaku), cello by Tomo Katsurada (ex-Kikagaku Moyo) and Tokyo acid folk artist Satomimagae (RVNG) lends her haunting multilayered vocals to ‘Rain Song.’
As with much of Nash’s work, ‘Once Was Ours Forever’ deftly finds an equilibrium between softness and weight, offering the listener ample space to interpret and inhabit the music on their own terms. Through his uncanny ability to blend the pastoral and the profound, the idyllic and the insightful, ‘Once Was Ours Forever’ arrives as a tender and understated offering, infused with warmth and compassion.
