Ambient / Minimal / Drone

Melody As Truth founder Jonny Nash returns to action with his first solo album in four years. Point of Entry, the Gaussian Curve member’s sixth solo set, builds on Nash’s recent forays into folk traditions (2020’s Poe, made in collaboration with Teguh Permana, and 2021’s Suzanne Kraft co-production A Heart So White), while delivering a clear musical evolution. Over the course of eleven mesmerising tracks, Nash points the compass gently inwards, casting aside any conceptual frameworks in favour of exploring an imaginative and idealised “personal folk music” that combines elements of traditional acoustic music with the producer’s richly immersive interpretation of ambient, a sound he has been developing for well over a decade. The album was created using a stream of consciousness approach to writing and recording, with Nash utilising his favoured instrument – the guitar, often doused in atmospheric effects – as a starting point. Throughout, his delicate and evocative playing takes centre stage, its melodic lines and finger-picked refrains painting aural images that resonate with positive yet contemplative energy. From the smudged acid-folk bliss of ‘Theories’ and ‘Eternal Life’, to the layered acoustic guitars of ‘All I Ever Needed’ and the delay-soaked, Durutti Column-esque ‘Light From Three Sides’, a wide variety of musical textures weave their way throughout the album. Point of Entry is much more than a mere ‘guitar album’ – it draws on a rich and diverse palette to achieve its purpose. The delicate saxophone work of ambient-jazz contemporary Joseph Shabason swells on ‘Ditto’ and ‘Light From Three Sides’. Cascading piano lines ripple through the crystal clear sonic waters of ‘Face of Another’, whilst echoes of Nash’s work with Gigi Masin and Young Marco as Gaussian Curve appear in the dancing synth sequences of ‘Ditto’ and ‘Golden Hour’. Nash’s reverb-laden voice also appears for the first time since 2016’s critically acclaimed Exit Strategies, used delicately throughout the album to conjure up a world of dusk and golden light. Combining the delicate human touch and naivety of earlier Melody As Truth releases with widened scope and vision, Point Of Entry is arguably Nash’s most complete work to date – an album that’s as much a statement of his “personal folk” vision as a future ambient classic.

The Thinking of the World Began Pounding in Our Ears the Moment We Hit Shore is a studio-constructed album developed as a project rather than a band.

Created by Florian TM Zeisig between 2022 and 2025, the record draws on sessions and material contributed by a small group of collaborators. Recordings were gathered across different contexts and brought together through an extended studio process, with writing, production, arrangement, and assembly treated as a continuous activity.

The album took shape gradually through selection, editing, and re-placement of material over time. Individual pieces were revisited, reshaped, and recontextualized until they formed a unified body of work.

Contributions to the project include work by Mari Rubio (More Eaze), Róisín Berkeley, Don Lyons, Cal Fish, K, Seán Being, and JQ. All tracks were produced, written, arranged, and mixed by Florian TM Zeisig, with co-songwriting contributions noted per track.

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.

Feedback Waves — the new imprint from independent label Rings of Neptune — is proud to present Trill, the first and only album by Palomatic. Almost thirty years after its original release on CD in 1995, this beautiful nine-track work is now available on vinyl for the first time. Palomatic is an alias of Koji Takahashi, an active member of the bubbling Japanese electronic music scene of the early-to-mid 90s. Besides his solo work, he was a core member of Takahashi Tektronix (with Nic Yoshizawa) and Mutron (with Kiyoshi Hazemoto, aka Interferon), as well as working as a synth programmer for supergroup Denki Groove. Following the release of his debut track ‘Halo’ on Syzygy Records in 1993, Takahashi made a series of contributions to compilations on the scene-defining Transonic label. His first and only full-length album, Trill, combined these tracks with original material to form an absorbing and versatile standalone statement of the Palomatic sound. From the oscillating lilt of ‘Flutter’, which opens proceedings at a measured 104bpm, through to the symphonic epilogue of ‘Soar’, Trill is rooted in the fertile territory between organic and synthetic sounds — ground that was nourishing the work of many likeminded producers worldwide at the time. West Coast psychedelia and East Coast funk, the moody bass weight of Bristol trip-hop and Sheffield bleep, and the chemical rush of German techno and Belgian trance: with a distinctly Japanese sensibility, Trill drew these strands together into an elegant musical tapestry. The result is timeless — indeed, album centrepiece ‘Foaming Waves’ would sound right at home on the faster-paced dancefloors of today.

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.

When words trail off at the beginning of claire rousay’s “everything perfect is already here,” ornate instrumentation is waiting to fill a void left by the breakdown of language. Yet it becomes clear as we trace rousay’s collaged sonic pathway that breakdown, of meaning and also of melody, is also a place to rest. everything perfect… is made up of two extended compositions that cycle between familiarity and unknowing. There are seemingly infinite ways to feel in response to these pieces of music, which shift tone across their languid duration, earnest like a familiar song but unbound from the emotional didacticisms of lyrical voice and pop form. rousay builds a fluid landscape around the acoustic contributions of Alex Cunningham (violin), Mari Maurice (electronics and violin), Marilu Donovan (harp), and Theodore Cale Schafer (piano), whose respective melodies weave gently in and out, sometimes steady, sometimes aching, sometimes receding altogether in deference to less overtly musical sounds. That is, percussive texture in the form of unvarnished samples and field recordings: the rattle and rustle and the stops and starts of life unfurling, voices sharing memories nearly out of reach, doors closing, wind against a microphone. Everything comes from somewhere in particular, possessing the veneer of the diaristic, but sound’s provenance is secondary here and so these details become tangled and fused. On this release I hear such details not as individual ornaments or stories but the collective architecture of the greater composition. It’s an architecture that is not quite formed and thus full of openings out to the world unfolding. “The world unfolding,” that’s a kind way of saying change, movement, loss, transformation. Things rousay here indexes, not without shards of desire or pain, still somehow what I hear is coarse peace in the in-between. These two pieces sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Where am I now? What is different outside of me? What is different inside of me? Um. I think. everything is perfect is already here, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways. The music guides a certain experience of the world around. In claire’s music there is this marriage—not just a pairing or juxtaposition but an interrelationship, an eventual confusion—of song/texture, narrative/abstraction, figure/ground. Everything comes from somewhere in particular but not just the voices, the field recordings, the what is being said or meant, what matters is “the where you are now.” There are so many ways of anchoring oneself in the present, some have to do with fantasy or storytelling and some with accepting what is. These two compositions find peace between these modes. They sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Their mode of feeling is inquisitive. Where am I now? What has changed outside of me? What has changed inside of me? The music, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways.

Acclaimed Californian harpist Nailah Hunter unites with debuting theremin player Alia Mohamed for a hauntingly minimalist performance of Harold Budd's "The Pavilion of Dreams". The rendition concept was initially conceived and performed by the two musicians for the Nov 3rd 2024 edition of Leaving Records' seminal outdoor community concert series Listen to Music Outside in the Daylight Under a Tree in Los Angeles California. Nailah Hunter writes: "It was such a blissful experience getting to play in the golden light of the park that afternoon with Alia. We’d been exploring this piece together for a few years prior to the performance. The uniquely curious and misty quality of the piece is what initially drew me in and the bold and imaginative changes voiced in the harp part are what kept me coming back for more. It felt euphoric to finally get to share our sonic vision with folks we knew already appreciated the original work."

Acclaimed Californian harpist Nailah Hunter unites with debuting theremin player Alia Mohamed for a hauntingly minimalist performance of Harold Budd's "The Pavilion of Dreams". The rendition concept was initially conceived and performed by the two musicians for the Nov 3rd 2024 edition of Leaving Records' seminal outdoor community concert series Listen to Music Outside in the Daylight Under a Tree in Los Angeles California. Nailah Hunter writes: "It was such a blissful experience getting to play in the golden light of the park that afternoon with Alia. We’d been exploring this piece together for a few years prior to the performance. The uniquely curious and misty quality of the piece is what initially drew me in and the bold and imaginative changes voiced in the harp part are what kept me coming back for more. It felt euphoric to finally get to share our sonic vision with folks we knew already appreciated the original work."

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.

Luke Schneider’s new EP 'For Dancing in Quiet Light' finds the pedal steel guitarist further refining his singular ambient vocabulary—gentle, resonant, and quietly radiant. Following two releases on Third Man, this Leaving Records debut is inspired by the intersection of breath and movement, drawing influence from his rural Tennessee surroundings and Lou Reed’s little-known tai chi soundtrack Hudson River Wind Meditations. These compositions offer a delicate but emotionally resonant companion for both rhythmic physical motion and the subtle choreography of the inner self. The title track, built solely from pedal steel and carefully layered effects, sets the tone with its glowing textures and unhurried grace.

In music, form is sometimes so intimately connected to experience as to speak meaning more compellingly than any word could. On After the Town was Swept Away, out September 5th on Leaving Records, BlankFor.ms, aka Tyler Gilmore, finds in rhythm a new vocabulary of self-collection. Confronting both grief and joy, its twelve tracks of tape loop manipulation festoon and murmur — the imperfect cyclicality of tape itself at once a metaphor for the record’s meditations on time, and the actual physical support shaping its sounds. Composed in the aftermath of two quickly succeeding life-changing events for the artist — the birth of his first child, Ellis, in November 2023, and the loss of his mother after a two-year battle with cancer in January 2024 —, the sounds of After the Town was Swept Away were born of unmaking and remaking. The composition process was mostly one of revision: early drum machine sketches were emptied out and degraded, whole songs restructured, tape loops stacked to digest a complex rhythmical biography. Rooted in early experiences in jazz and a long-held love of house and drum & bass, BlankFor.ms’ beat allegiances surface in ways that are never obvious, a vehicle for reinterpreting one’s times anew. Commanding such an articulate rhythmical language, the music of After the Town was Swept Away speaks thus in intense, affectionate, at times uneasy tones. We feel this deeply on lead single "Formed by the Slide". Against the offbeat loops of quietly loose, layered held-tone vocals — by composer, vocalist and friend of the artist, Ella Joy Meir —, rhythm emerges in noisier surges as if answering their achingly beautiful call. It is the sound of experience in its barest form: when life speaks, we respond as we can. After The Town Was Swept Away was born from love — not just in tender musing, but through actual, felt communion. This is true, for example, of the triptych titled after Kinship, the Highland Park yoga studio where, in 2024, experimentalist Colloboh hosted BlankFor.ms for an impromptu performance to a routine by yogi Meg Shoemaker, from which the three tracks were assembled. But the influence of others — both musical, as with jazz drummer Marcus Gilmore and pianist Jason Moran, with whom BlankFor.ms recently released a collaborative album, and more intimately personal — is felt throughout the whole record, bound together in rhythm. Could it be otherwise? Tape loops have a way of preserving and altering the past at once, marking and unmarking sounds and their sources. The beats on After the Town was Swept Away — pensively yet felicitously — come to terms with just that, their rethreaded rhythms making room for unexpected, unhoped for recollection — a way to survive the flood of experience.

In music, form is sometimes so intimately connected to experience as to speak meaning more compellingly than any word could. On After the Town was Swept Away, out September 5th on Leaving Records, BlankFor.ms, aka Tyler Gilmore, finds in rhythm a new vocabulary of self-collection. Confronting both grief and joy, its twelve tracks of tape loop manipulation festoon and murmur — the imperfect cyclicality of tape itself at once a metaphor for the record’s meditations on time, and the actual physical support shaping its sounds. Composed in the aftermath of two quickly succeeding life-changing events for the artist — the birth of his first child, Ellis, in November 2023, and the loss of his mother after a two-year battle with cancer in January 2024 —, the sounds of After the Town was Swept Away were born of unmaking and remaking. The composition process was mostly one of revision: early drum machine sketches were emptied out and degraded, whole songs restructured, tape loops stacked to digest a complex rhythmical biography. Rooted in early experiences in jazz and a long-held love of house and drum & bass, BlankFor.ms’ beat allegiances surface in ways that are never obvious, a vehicle for reinterpreting one’s times anew. Commanding such an articulate rhythmical language, the music of After the Town was Swept Away speaks thus in intense, affectionate, at times uneasy tones. We feel this deeply on lead single "Formed by the Slide". Against the offbeat loops of quietly loose, layered held-tone vocals — by composer, vocalist and friend of the artist, Ella Joy Meir —, rhythm emerges in noisier surges as if answering their achingly beautiful call. It is the sound of experience in its barest form: when life speaks, we respond as we can. After The Town Was Swept Away was born from love — not just in tender musing, but through actual, felt communion. This is true, for example, of the triptych titled after Kinship, the Highland Park yoga studio where, in 2024, experimentalist Colloboh hosted BlankFor.ms for an impromptu performance to a routine by yogi Meg Shoemaker, from which the three tracks were assembled. But the influence of others — both musical, as with jazz drummer Marcus Gilmore and pianist Jason Moran, with whom BlankFor.ms recently released a collaborative album, and more intimately personal — is felt throughout the whole record, bound together in rhythm. Could it be otherwise? Tape loops have a way of preserving and altering the past at once, marking and unmarking sounds and their sources. The beats on After the Town was Swept Away — pensively yet felicitously — come to terms with just that, their rethreaded rhythms making room for unexpected, unhoped for recollection — a way to survive the flood of experience.

Originally compiled & released in 2015 by Leaving Records & Laraaji, we proudly present (again), with humble gratitude, three re-issues of seminal works by new age musician, composer, and laughter meditation workshop leader Laraaji - recorded between 1978 and 1983. Although some excerpts of the material have been featured on various compilations, this was the first time in over 30 years that one can experience the uninterrupted duration of these cosmic etudes in their complete form. The added length creates an immersive environment of fresh, exploratory, experimental and healing sounds in which to dwell– these are the proper, entire experiences as intended by their creator.

1978’s Lotus Collage was recorded live in a Park Slope, Brooklyn living room during Laraaji’s busker years. The sounds consist of freestyle electric open tuned zither/harp, Ecstatic Rhythmic hammer percussion, and free flow open hand ethereal moods. This recording crucially predates Laraaji’s now mythological “discovery” by Brian Eno, and is significant as one of Laraaji’s first electric zither recordings. This early recording captures a youthful Laraaji at the outset of his musical journey, still ripe for discovery, exploration, and transcendence. 1981’s Unicorns in Paradise was performed on electric keyboard Casiotone MT-70, and once again features Laraaji’s iconic zither in a flowing atmospheric improvisation. Laraaji describes its sonic environs as “an ideal habitat in another dimension of timelessness.” Many years later, this description holds true as its vibrant sounds inspire sensual reflections of the excited imagination. The final re-issue consists of two parts. Its first side, “Trance Celestial,” is a glowing, amorphous survey of muted and malleable electric sounds. Its uncharacteristically dark atmospheres nevertheless still paint a surreal atmosphere for self-reflection. Much beauty and inner-wisdom can be found in the depths of its inward trajectory. In contrast, the title track is a guided meditation full of light and optimism. Its spoken word segments and patient arrangements illustrate a constructive framework for enjoying the whole of Laraaji’s extensive catalog.

Originally, these releases were hand-made and dubbed to cassette by Laraaji himself. Of the process, he says “I felt like I was distributing artwork. As a matter of fact, for some of the cassettes I actually did some extra handwork on the label, doing a screen print or magic marker to add some color. So there was a sense of how to be an industry homemade artist direct-to-consumer feeling in the early years. People would ask for cassette tapes of an issue that I had not mass produced. So, now and then I’ll run into somebody who has a cassette tape… I’ll look at it and say, ‘Oh Wow, hand-made label, J-card and HEART.'”

Available on both cassette and digital, these re-issues offer Laraaji’s early music in both its original form and a form that did not exist at the time of its recording. Regarding this parallel, Laraaji reflects, “Having the music move in dimensions I didn’t predict… It feels like an extended blessing.” 

Meditations bestseller! Originally released as a self-pressed in 2018 in a limited edition of only 50 copies. A collaboration between L.A. saxophonist Sam Gendel, best known as the leader of the jazz trio Inga, and bassist Sam Wilkes, whose unique sound has been described as psychedelic, outsider and meditative, and Jon Hassell's Fourth World.This is a collaboration between Sam Gendel, a saxophonist from LA, and Sam Wilkes, a bassist from LA. You will be into a vortex of dope music. This is a work of confidence, in which a sophisticated jazz mind is incorporated into a unique and experimental sound full of the free spirit of the West Coast, and sublimated into a unique sound that is even meditative. The muffled soundscape with the perfect amount of salt makes the listener feel even better.

Meditations bestseller! Originally released as a self-pressed in 2018 in a limited edition of only 50 copies. A collaboration between L.A. saxophonist Sam Gendel, best known as the leader of the jazz trio Inga, and bassist Sam Wilkes, whose unique sound has been described as psychedelic, outsider and meditative, and Jon Hassell's Fourth World.This is a collaboration between Sam Gendel, a saxophonist from LA, and Sam Wilkes, a bassist from LA. You will be into a vortex of dope music. This is a work of confidence, in which a sophisticated jazz mind is incorporated into a unique and experimental sound full of the free spirit of the West Coast, and sublimated into a unique sound that is even meditative. The muffled soundscape with the perfect amount of salt makes the listener feel even better.

He is known for his collaborations with big names such as Ry Cooder, Vampire Weekend and Moses Sumney, and as the leader of the jazz trio "Inga", Sam Gendel is a very popular fourth-world inspired saxophonist from LA who has created a unique and free sound that can be described as psychedelic, outsider or meditative. His latest album "Fresh Bread" from Leaving, which is arguably the most important album of the year, is now in stock. It's an all-genre anthology of 52 tracks selected from his personal archive of home recordings and performances from 2012 to 2020. Carlos Niño, Jamire Williams and others also participate.

Sam Wilkes answers a few questions from Leaving Records labelmate Carlos Niño, on his debut full-length WILKES Listening to WILKES numerous times, considering what I might write about it for a Press Release, (which I agreed to do because I'm a fan of his Music and his collaborations with Sam Gendel and Louis Cole / Knower,) I was growing in enthusiasm, looking forward to my next radio show or DJ set including the song "Today" so I could hear it bump in a nice system. I was hyped the more I took in this 6 song offering. I thought to ask Sam about his new record and use his answers as aid to illustrate some of my feelings, but when I read his reply I thought you should too. It's so descriptive and visual, perfect to pull from and quote.

California-based keyboardist and composer Nico Georis, known for his ambient works created with biofeedback devices and intended “for plants,” returns with a luminous new album via Leaving Records, the spiritual heart of the West Coast’s independent scene. Delving deep into celestial realms of modern classical and new age, this album radiates with grace and compassion. Gently resonant piano tones, softly undulating synth layers, and reverberations that dissolve into space—each sound arrives as a prayer, a blessing, or the ripple of a memory devoted to someone unseen. A profound sense of calm and care pervades throughout, as if tending to the quiet growth of plants or listening closely to the cosmic order itself. A radiant and healing work of meditative beauty.

Green-House's latest EP is a collection of unheard & rare recordings from 2021 & 2022. Imaginary department stores, Wendy Carlos-infused virtual classical, soundscape slices and bonus tracks are all situated radiantly along the spectrum of Solar Editions.

A must-have for fans of Japanese environmental music such as Hiroshi Yoshimura, Satoshi Ashikawa and Yutaka Hirose! Organic new age music that is swallowed by the beauty of nature that sways gracefully! Leaving Records is proud to present the debut EP by Green-House, a project by local artist Olive Ardizon. "The six tracks are based on the concept of "communication between plant life and the people who grow it. Based on field recordings that capture the sounds of water and the voices and movements of plants and animals in nature, this is a superb new age/ambient work that breathes an aesthetic synth sound that encompasses the beauty and serenity of the pull that is common in Japanese environmental music. Artwork by Michael Flanagan.

In an era of rampant, man-made climate chaos, “solastalgia” (the longing and distress experienced by individuals as a response to environmental change/degradation) has emerged as a useful, semi-viral concept — a catch-all term for the pervasive sense that the world as we know it is far from well, and only growing less so. But, for many of us, a problem, a trap, an ineffable hollowness, exists at the very crux of this concept/premise: how can we mourn (or even sense the loss of) that which we have never known? Especially for lifelong urbanites estranged from nature, who nevertheless grasp the severity and complexity of the problem—how might they remember? How might they mourn? Perhaps indirectly—that is to say, in an exploratory and non-dogmatic fashion—Green-House, a project birthed by Olive Ardizoni and now officially a duo project featuring long-time collaborator and confidant, Michael Flanagan, seeks to address this gap in understanding. Six Songs for Invisible Gardens, the debut Green-House EP whose 2020 release coincided with the depths of Covid-19 “lockdown,” responded to the rampant heartsickness of human and plant life, especially in non-rural areas. The packaging of the cassette release famously included wildflower seeds for the listener to scatter. This gesture (at once simple and daring, especially when one considers the logistical element) exists as testament to the sincerity and seriousness of Ardizoni’s convictions. Music for Living Spaces, the first full-length Green-House LP, followed in 2021— a refinement of the formula that enshrined Six Songs as a cult, eco-ambient hit. Out October 13, 2023 on Leaving Records, they have returned with the LP A Host For All Kinds of Life, a third entry in a series of releases whose titles have incidentally all revolved around the “for” construction: an unofficial canon of offerings, or maybe rather instructions as to how the music contained therein might, could, and should operate in/on the listener’s life and “living space(s).” Decidedly the most expansive Green-House release — one need only consider the LP’s title and the kaleidoscopic, fractal cover art designed by Flanagan—A Host For All Kinds of Life troubles the very notion of “ambient music,” a category with whom Green-House has always existed in some degree of tension. What if a song’s seeming softness constitutes its biting edge? What if easeful, contemplative pleasure can radically alter our mindset? Our very role as worldly subjects? Drawing on the works of Lynn Margulis and our burgeoning understanding of the evolutionary role of biological mutualism (associations between species in which both species benefit), A Host For All Kinds of Life is a deeply entrenched and politically grounded song suite. And there are indeed discrete songs here, with defined structure, momentum, and sway; see the gilded, sixties-evoking melodic arabesque of the record’s ninth and penultimate track, “Everything is Okay” (which incidentally ends with the release’s only human voice—a tender message left for Ardizoni by their mother). In conversation, Ardizoni speaks often of the centrality of joy—that Green-House’s very existence can be traced to a conscious decision they made to not only choose joy as an act of rebellion, but to find that joy in whatever plant life they could access in their immediate environment. In this sense, all of Green-House’s releases (and A Host for All Kinds of Life especially) embody a radicality that may elude the casual or first-time listener. To choose, model, and express joy in an ailing world requires courage, a courage that must be jealously guarded and constantly replenished. A Host For all Kinds of Life encourages the listener to slow down, take stock, tune in to the more-than-human world around them, and gather their courage and joy in light of the uncertainty to come.

In an era of rampant, man-made climate chaos, “solastalgia” (the longing and distress experienced by individuals as a response to environmental change/degradation) has emerged as a useful, semi-viral concept — a catch-all term for the pervasive sense that the world as we know it is far from well, and only growing less so. But, for many of us, a problem, a trap, an ineffable hollowness, exists at the very crux of this concept/premise: how can we mourn (or even sense the loss of) that which we have never known? Especially for lifelong urbanites estranged from nature, who nevertheless grasp the severity and complexity of the problem—how might they remember? How might they mourn? Perhaps indirectly—that is to say, in an exploratory and non-dogmatic fashion—Green-House, a project birthed by Olive Ardizoni and now officially a duo project featuring long-time collaborator and confidant, Michael Flanagan, seeks to address this gap in understanding. Six Songs for Invisible Gardens, the debut Green-House EP whose 2020 release coincided with the depths of Covid-19 “lockdown,” responded to the rampant heartsickness of human and plant life, especially in non-rural areas. The packaging of the cassette release famously included wildflower seeds for the listener to scatter. This gesture (at once simple and daring, especially when one considers the logistical element) exists as testament to the sincerity and seriousness of Ardizoni’s convictions. Music for Living Spaces, the first full-length Green-House LP, followed in 2021— a refinement of the formula that enshrined Six Songs as a cult, eco-ambient hit. Out October 13, 2023 on Leaving Records, they have returned with the LP A Host For All Kinds of Life, a third entry in a series of releases whose titles have incidentally all revolved around the “for” construction: an unofficial canon of offerings, or maybe rather instructions as to how the music contained therein might, could, and should operate in/on the listener’s life and “living space(s).” Decidedly the most expansive Green-House release — one need only consider the LP’s title and the kaleidoscopic, fractal cover art designed by Flanagan—A Host For All Kinds of Life troubles the very notion of “ambient music,” a category with whom Green-House has always existed in some degree of tension. What if a song’s seeming softness constitutes its biting edge? What if easeful, contemplative pleasure can radically alter our mindset? Our very role as worldly subjects? Drawing on the works of Lynn Margulis and our burgeoning understanding of the evolutionary role of biological mutualism (associations between species in which both species benefit), A Host For All Kinds of Life is a deeply entrenched and politically grounded song suite. And there are indeed discrete songs here, with defined structure, momentum, and sway; see the gilded, sixties-evoking melodic arabesque of the record’s ninth and penultimate track, “Everything is Okay” (which incidentally ends with the release’s only human voice—a tender message left for Ardizoni by their mother). In conversation, Ardizoni speaks often of the centrality of joy—that Green-House’s very existence can be traced to a conscious decision they made to not only choose joy as an act of rebellion, but to find that joy in whatever plant life they could access in their immediate environment. In this sense, all of Green-House’s releases (and A Host for All Kinds of Life especially) embody a radicality that may elude the casual or first-time listener. To choose, model, and express joy in an ailing world requires courage, a courage that must be jealously guarded and constantly replenished. A Host For all Kinds of Life encourages the listener to slow down, take stock, tune in to the more-than-human world around them, and gather their courage and joy in light of the uncertainty to come.

Leaving Records presents Music For Living Spaces, the debut LP by non-binary Los Angeles-based artist Green-House. Olive Ardizoni helms the project, which made its debut with the charming 2019 EP Six Songs for Invisible Gardens. Music for Living Spaces represents an evolution of its predecessor’s minimalist compositions into songs that move with winsome melodies and emotional arcs. Though recorded during a pandemic, the transporting nature of Music For Livings Spaces offers a remedy for dreariness. Ardizoni states, “I’m trying to hit that part of the brain that’s affected by the emotional state that you’re in when you perceive something as cute.” 
 
Music For Living Spaces' first single “Sunflower Dance” sports a breezy, bucolic vibe. The track is intended to invoke the whimsical image of hamsters happily dancing in a field. Ardizoni brings an intentionality to these playful atmospheres. They state, “In our culture, we prioritize profound artistic expression through emotions like sadness or aggression, but cuteness, silliness or fun, are the things that we trivialize in our culture. We say that they’re childish and it gets invalidated.” The complex and radiant productions on Music for Living Spaces counter this view. Ardizoni continues, “Cuteness and joy are gateways to compassion. It’s the gateway to empathy and activating the network in your brain that boosts moral concern for other people in the world around you.” Despite its general sunniness, Music For Living Spaces does not solely rely on exuberant, colorful moods. “Royal Fern” is a sophisticated composition of voices calling and responding to each other in rippling waves, while towards the closing of the album we hear Ardizoni’s ethereal voice for the first time that carries a nuanced, contemplative aura that defies categorization. 
 
Music For Living Spaces is a step forward for Green-House. Ardizoni states, “The intention of this project is to facilitate the connection between humans and nature. Instead of perceiving nature as something that's separate from us, or outside of our homes, we can recognize nature as something that is within us and in everything we do in our daily lives. You don't need to have access to the great outdoors to feel connected to the environment.”

Even after years of living in the same area, there can be mind-bending moments of revelation about its layout. An attempt to avoid traffic, or a time-killing meander on a weekend morning gives way to a mix of novelty and confusion as a new pocket of the district materializes like a dream about hidden rooms in a childhood home. Suddenly a recognizable cross street appears, and for a few seconds it’s hard to reconcile with all the new ground that was just covered. Just around the corner the old landmarks take shape, and logic returns. Despite spending the last several minutes in a seemingly unfamiliar place, perhaps you barely left your own neighborhood, if at all.
This kind of pathfinding lies behind the name Way Through, a collaborative album between Toronto musicians Chris Cummings, Joseph Shabason, and Thom Gill under the moniker Cici Arthur. Seeking to create large-scale setpieces to showcase Cummings’ vocals and writing, producer-instrumentalists Shabason and Gill have parked their brand of smartly subverted adult contemporary aesthetics near the mid-century slink of Antonio Carlos Jobim, or the romantic opulence of Frank Sinatra. Way Through takes the communal spirit of Shabason’s previous ventures to panoramic heights, featuring everyone from drummer Phil Melanson (Sam Gendel, Sam Amidon, Andy Shauff) and frequent collaborator Nicholas Krgovich, to famed arranger and violinist Owen Pallet who helms an honest-to-God thirty-piece orchestra for the affair. Perhaps most importantly, vocalist Dorothea Pass winds glassy harmonies through all the moving parts, emulsifying the core trio’s take on a heyday Capitol Records session. The result is akin to so much music in Joseph Shabason’s orbit in that it spins around a centerpoint of humanness and vulnerability, placing even its most colossal elements comfortingly within arm’s reach.
The seeds of the album were sowed in 2020 when Chris Cummings lost his job of twenty years amid the COVID shockwaves. In his early fifties with his Plan A having lapsed, Chris found himself diving into full-time music creation for the first time in his life. The leap of faith inspired his collaborators, galvanizing them to thoughtfully tailor arrangements just for him. “I wanted to make a really big sounding record for Chris, to really figure out a way to call in favors and make this album as grand as I possibly could,” Shabason recalls of Way Through’s Creed Taylor ethos. “I really wanted Chris to sing to fully mixed songs so that it was in the spirit of playing with a full band with all the energy of hearing an orchestra swell behind him with horns blaring,” he continues, “and I think this is the grandest approach to making a record that I have ever embarked on.”
The resulting outsize backdrop sits in poetic contrast to Cummings’ comparatively discreet delivery and intimate lyricism. Steering the Shabason-Gill cruise liner with delicate intonation and quiet introspection, Cummings paints a picture of city lights gleaming in rain puddles, mapping subtle emotional territories within the urban gloom while resigning in a kind of joyous ennui. “If I could be all that once looked so great and grand, I would have died for an occasion to rise to,” he sings through the horn section of ‘Cartwheels for Coins’, “but it’s a gray sky, nothing to say, mixed emotions always get in the way”. Lines like these epitomize Way Through; when the bandstand empties out and the singer finds himself alone on a darkened soundstage, the emotional complexities of life still lie waiting to be confronted. Cummings lends a literary counterweight to Shabason and Gill’s sonic splendor, and in doing so spotlights the inherent tension between pragmatism and ambition. As a film major who was raised by community theater actors before taking up music as his main creative outlet, it’s evident that Cummings has grappled with this polarity in his own life (not to mention the perfect sense this makes out of Way Through’s filmic overtones).
Punctuating the cinematic heft, the decidedly uptempo midpoint ‘Damaged Goods’ bounces and strolls around Dorothea Pass’s doo-wop harmonies giving affirmation to anyone coming out of a troubled relationship, while the successive piece ‘Prior Times’ addresses those very relationships head-on. “Honestly, I was-- and am still-- very affected by romantic relationships I had before I met my wife,” Chris admits, explaining that the track “tells about a time when I was caught in an unhappy situation, looking back on happier times, and being hit with the painful realization that time doesn't go backwards.” With its understated Samba lilt, the song lands Cici Arthur closest to their aforementioned Jobim/Gilberto target and serves as the stylistic centerpiece. The pensive and movielike ‘No Fight Or Flight (So Much Tenderness)’ brings the album to its finale over one of Owen Pallet’s verdant string arrangements, marking one of the fullest realizations of Joseph Shabason and Thom Gill’s production aspirations-- and likely reaching far beyond what Cummings ever imagined when his life completely changed a few long years ago.
Back in 2020, newly careerless and grasping at an uncertain future in a world of uncertain futures, Chris found himself taking exploratory bike trips through nearby suburban areas he’d never been to before. His attempts to avoid the bustle of major roads would lead either to dead ends or completely new ways of seeing the geography of a city he’d lived in for decades, mirroring the joy and heartbreak of life’s circuitous path. “What good are dead ends when I’m looking through a way through,” he repeats on the album’s title track over the crest of a weary and sweet brass section. “When the miracle you’d hoped for never comes it’s hard to take, but it’s your fault for hoping.” For all of Way Through’s orchestral technicolor wonder, Cummings delivers refreshingly honest doses of realism about how dreams unfold across a lifetime.<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/86pMq1IpjAc?si=4ewpJcmKv3MgzHNL" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe>