Ambient / Minimal / Drone
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The visionary Walter Maioli (Futuro Antico, Aktuala) and the eccentric electronic musician John Zandijik first met in 1984 when they both gravitated toward the experimental Sound Reporters collective, participating in the release of Ethnoelectronics (1986). Shortly afterward, the two met at Zandijik's studio in Rotterdam, where they completed their journey of exploration to the edge of the Universe in just three nights. The recordings were made only after 3 a.m., when psychic energy is at its peak, and inspiration belongs solely to the realm of dreams. It was a ritual of long galactic fluctuation, where the mystical sound of the flute was filtered and expanded by the Aureal system, a device capable of breaking it down into cascades of aureal harmonies. Through its extemporaneous approach, the music transforms perceptions of ancient pyramids or tropical forests into phosphorescent nebulae, luminous fountain openings, and unprecedented planetary interstices—interstellar portals leading to new archetypal-ancestral visions. It feels like sailing through colored orbits in the red gases of Jupiter and Mars, lost and dissolved forever in the engines and gears of the most secret cosmos. Between Pink Floyd-esque psychedelic flashes and Tangerine Dream-inspired sidereal architectures, Maioli and Zandijik reveal the most phantasmagoric and unknown side of Sound Reporters.

One of Yokota's most loved releases that explores the intersection of jazz, new age ambience and a world of found sound and samples.
Grinning Cat confounded devotees of Sakura with a far more complex set of tracks. A landscape of ambiguous emotional resonance within an album of measured extremes. Sentimental without being schmaltzy, joyful without being saccharine, Grinning Cat sees Yokota at his most playful and experimental, channelling moments of transitory wonder and jubilation, and opening up a sonic environment in which we can romp and play.

Vel, recognized for her striking presence in the contemporary techno scene, initiates the Cuddle Protocol, her first ambient album and the third outing on her own label PURR. The nine-track record is a personal and intimate statement. With Cuddle Protocol, Vel explores the paradox of intimacy in a coded world. "I like the idea of a protocol for softness," she explains, "of codifying something that should be intimate and spontaneous." This tension runs through the album: fragile voices and soft layers unfold against serious, carefully structured arrangements, balancing tenderness with rigor. Ambient music has always been Vel's "first love." Before producing techno, she composed ambient exclusively, and this album marks a return to the form in its most sincere expression. "I know this music will follow me all my life. It's not a phase. It's how I express myself most truthfully." Cuddle Protocol is about slowing down, embracing sincerity, and reaching for deeper connection. "When I listen to ambient, I access another world. It's charged with emotion, it makes me drift and forget everything. That's the feeling I wanted to share." Mastering by Sixbitdeep. Artwork by Adone Giuntini.

First re-issue album from the Skintone Edition Volume 1 Box Set
Magic Thread is Susumu Yokota’s deeply soothing and delicate debut release on the Skintone label. With a spartan palette of sounds and textures, Yokota taps into a fundamentally human need to fuse and connect disparate fibres, magically forming work which glistens and pulsates with life.
Magic Thread originally came out in 1998 as a limited-edition CD release of 500 copies. Initially intended for the Japanese market, it came without any artwork in a standard transparent CD case adorned only by a sticker containing essential album information and a quote:
‘Somewhere in the process of evolution, the spinning and weaving of thread became possible for humankind. How did this come to pass? It can only be that the thread is possessed of magical properties.’ – Yokota, 1998.

Tapping the driftwood, tapping the surface of the water, everything on earth becomes his instrument.
In 1990, NEWSIC, a leading Japanese environmental music label, released a work by a rare percussionist
The work released by the rare percussionist is now on LP record for the first time.
Listening to Mr. Ochi's Natural Sonic reminds me of the days when I used to go to the studio of St. GIGA (satellite music broadcasting station), which was then located in Jingumae.
There, this album was secretly played day after day.
After more than 30 years, "Chikyu no Chikugo" was finally released to the world.
- Yoshiro Ojima (Composer / Music Producer)
Yoshiro Ochi is a percussionist who has been active in a wide variety of fields, including composing and performing music for the Issey Miyake Collection from 1984 to 1990, producing music for TV and radio, participating in live performances by GONTITI and other artists, and conducting workshops.
He has collected colorful living tones by traveling, playing drums, and tapping on natural objects he encounters. They blend gently with computer sounds and repeat pleasant resonance.
A magical massage of sound and rhythm.
Following "Motohiko Hamase - Tree Scale," one of the most popular titles on the "NEWSIC" label, this long-awaited analog record pressing is now available!
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)


Recorded in a live setting and played with instruments conserved in the collections of the MEG Museum, Cutting Branches For A Temporary Shelter is Midori Takada’s very own rendition of "Nhemamusasa", a traditional work emblematic of the musical repertoire for mbira of the Shona of Zimbabwe, well known worldwide, thanks notably to its version by Paul F. Berliner included on the famed 1973 album The Soul of Mbira.
The choice of this title by Midori Takada evokes the links between traditional African and contemporary music which are the foundation of this work, and it also translates the resolutely multicultural vision of the artist.
Midori Takada explains: "African music is remarkable for its polyrhythms. Not only are there simultaneously several rhythmic motifs, sometimes as many as ten, but furthermore it may be that the part played by each musician has its own starting point and its own pace, all combining to form a cycle. All the cycles progress at the same time according to a single metrical structure which functions as a reference point, but which is not played by any one person from beginning to end. The structure emerges out of the multi-level parts, all different. With the Shona, the musical system is based on the polymelody: one performs simultaneously several melodic lines which are superimposed, each having its own rhythmic organization. It is truly captivating. In Western classical music, one four-beat rhythm induces some precise temporal framework and regular reference points, which come on the strong beats 1 and 3. But in the logic of the Shona musical system, and in other African music, the melody can begin in the very middle of the cycle and be continued up to some other place in an autonomous manner, as if it had its own personality. It’s very rich."
The album comes with in-depth liner notes that include an interview with Midori Takada, a point of view by Zimbabwean scholar, musician and activist Forward Mazuruse, and background information on the project by Isabel Garcia Gomez and Madeleine Leclair from MEG Museum.
The sleeve features an artwork by celebrated Zimbabwean painter Portia Zvavahera.
Part of the budget for the album was donated to Forward Mazuruse’s Music For Development Foundation whose aim is to identify, nurture, and record young but underprivileged musicians in Zimbabwe.


Ultimo Tango (Milan) & Glossy Mistakes (Madrid) are thrilled to announce the release of "Tribal Organic: Deep Dive into European Percussions 79-90", a compilation of otherworldly percussion-driven tracks, digging deep into this unknown realm of a past era.
Compiled by Luca Fiore and Glossy Mario, the album takes listeners on a rhythmic journey through the diverse sounds of Europe from 1979 to 1990. This collaboration between two like-minded labels highlights forgotten recordings from across Europe, including works by artists from France, Spain, Germany, Italy, Austria, the Netherlands...
Opening with the ethereal “Rainforest” by British female duo Ova, this collection weaves together nine tracks from artists who were deeply influenced by global percussion traditions. With hints of jazz, new age, gamelan, and West African rhythms, these tracks feature instruments like congas, tablas, and shekeres, and reflect a shared fascination with the organic beat of the drum.
From the industrial-meets-African grooves of Jean-Michel Bertrand’s “Engines”, to the hypnotic accordion and tribal chants of Cuco Pérez’s “Calabó Bambú”, the compilation offers a cross-cultural listening experience that is both meditative and invigorating. Despite creating these works in isolation during the last years of the Cold War, each artist was inspired by a borderless world of sound. The compilation pays homage to these nomadic musicians who respected the traditions they drew from, while contributing their own experimental takes on percussion-led music.
In Tribal Organic, Glossy Mario and Luca Fiore have unearthed a treasure trove of rhythm-driven tracks that blur the lines between nations, genres, and cultures. This compilation offers more than just music; it’s a listening experience that is both spiritual and grounded—bold, exploratory, and deeply rooted in the beat of the Earth. <iframe style="border: 0; width: 350px; height: 472px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=3608275395/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless><a href="https://glossymistakes.bandcamp.com/album/tribal-organic-deep-dive-into-european-percussions-79-90">Tribal Organic: Deep Dive into European Percussions 79-90 by GLOSSY MISTAKES</a></iframe>

Barely known outside of his home country during his lifetime, the late Japanese ambient music pioneer Hiroshi Yoshimura has seen his global stature rise steadily in the past few years. The 2017 reissue of his lauded debut, Music For Nine Post Cards, along with a slow building cult internet following has helped ignite a renaissance in his acclaimed body of work, much of which has never been released outside of Japan. Known for his sound design and environmental music, Yoshimura worked on a number of commissions following the 1982 release of Music For Nine Post Cards, including works for museums, galleries, public spaces, TV shows, video art, fashion shows, and even a cosmetics company. Originally released in 1986, GREEN is one of Hiroshi Yoshimura’s most well-loved recordings and a favorite of the artist himself. Recorded over the winter of 1985-86 at Yoshimura’s home studio, the compositions unfold at an unhurried pace, a stark contrast to the busy city life of Tokyo. As Yoshimura explained in the original liner notes, the album title in the context of this body of work is not meant to be seen as a color, but is rather used to convey “the comfortable scenery of the natural cycle known as GREEN”—which perfectly encapsulates the soothing and warm sounds contained on the album, although it was created utilizing Yamaha FM synthesizers, known for their crisp digital tones. This edition marks the first reissue of the highly sought-after and impossible to find album. It features the original mix preferred by Yoshimura himself, previously available only on the initial Japanese vinyl release (a limited edition remixed version of the album, with added sound effects, was released on CD in the US). Additionally, this release is the first in our ongoing series, WATER COPY, focusing on the works of Hiroshi Yoshimura.

An intimate, mesmerising record about loss and change, sorry i thought you were someone else is K-LONE’s most personal album to date and his debut release on Incienso.
Made after his father’s passing, the album became a place of escape and reflection. A warm, hypnotic space to drift within.
OSMIUM is a collaboration between Oscar-winning Icelandic composer and cellist Hildur Guðnadóttir, James Ginzburg (emptyset, Subtext), Rully Shabara (Senyawa), and Grammy-winning producer and sound designer Sam Slater.
Forging burnished electroacoustic soundscapes with metallic drones, barbed rhythms, and bio-mechanical vocalizations, OSMIUM’s debut album resists any fixed vision of the future. Instead, it channels a viscous, unorthodox flow of sonic speculation—smoldering through echoes of ancient pasts while blazing toward a volatile frontier of fate.
Driven by questions around the relationship between humans and machines, tradition and progress, individual and collective expression, OSMIUM channel their deep expertise into a set of forward-thinking sonic interrogations. The music draws from folk, doom metal, 20th-century minimalism, industrial, and extreme noise, yet never settles fully into any genre.
While each member brings along a laundry list of accolades, the project is far greater than the sum of its parts. Widely known for her aforementioned soundtrack work and run of acclaimed solo albums on Touch, Guðnadóttir plays the halldorophone, a unique cello-like electroacoustic instrument designed by Halldór Úlfarsson that allows the performer to harness unstable feedback loops.
Taking his cues from this process, Sam Slater - who's worked alongside Jóhann Jóhannsson, Valgeir Sigurðsson, Ben Frost and others - generates rhythms using a self-oscillating drum he custom designed with KOMA Elektronik, and Ginzburg – one half of emptyset and curator of Subtext Recordings - responds in kind, producing booming tambura-like sonorities from a device he developed himself based on the monocord, an ancient single-stringed resonator.
OSMIUM synchronize the three unique instruments using a custom system of robotics to generate basic rhythms that underpin their improvisations and experiments, and although Shabara just uses his voice, it's his alien tones that supply the band with their conceptual fulcrum. The vocalist is one of South Asia's most recognizable underground artists, and the sounds he's able to create using exhaustively rehearsed extended techniques are so distinctive that he's been studied by scientists back home in Indonesia. As part of OSMIUM, Shabara attempts to merge with the band's machines, warping his vocal cords to mimic the robotics and originate hoarse percussive cracks and eldritch tonalities.
At the center of this volatile assemblage is Rully Shabara, whose voice forms the band’s conceptual and emotional fulcrum. One of Southeast Asia’s most singular underground artists, Shabara employs exhaustively rehearsed extended vocal techniques—so unique they’ve even drawn scientific attention in Indonesia. Within OSMIUM, his vocalizations merge with machines, producing hoarse percussive cracks and eldritch vocal tones that blur the line between human and mechanical expression.

The next installment of MFM's popular multi-artist compilation Virtual Dreams: 'Virtual Dreams - Ambient Explorations In The House And Techno Age, Japan 1993-1999'. As with Part One, released in 2020, 'Virtual Dreams II' shines a light on house and techno-adjacent music that helped redefine the definition of ambient music during the 1990s.
The focus of Part One heavily fell on music from techno and house producers in Europe, eagerly exploring new soundtracks for chill-out rooms and re-imagining the potential future of club culture from new perspectives. For Part Two, we narrow the lens to focus on a unique time and place, namely Japan between 1993-1999. Despite missing out on the 'Acid House Fever', club culture was beginning to take shape in Japan during the early '90s. In contrast to the rest of the world, where ambient techno / IDM emerged as a by-product or response to the scene, 'listening techno', as it is known in Japan, was a central pillar of the culture right from the start.
'Virtual Dreams II' aims to shine a light on this unique moment in time where the thread of ambient music weaved its way through the music of an emerging club culture. This period saw the birth of many great Japanese techno labels such as Sublime Records, Transonic Records, Syzygy Records, Frogman Records, and Form@ Records, following in the late '90s. 'Virtual Dreams II' features ambient, chill-out, and intelligent techno from these leading labels alongside other lesser-known but equally influential imprints, as well as ambient deviations from Japanese house producers. Much of the music featured has only ever been released on CD.
'Virtual Dreams II' is compiled by Eiji Taniguchi and Jamie Tiller, who have worked closely together on previous Music From Memory releases such as 'Heisei No Oto' and 'Dream Dolphin - Gaia'. It is also the final project Jamie Tiller worked on before his tragic passing in 2023. Jamie had been researching, planning, and compiling this version of Virtual Dreams even before the first chapter was released, believing that there were many great tracks in Japan that fit the concept of the series. Knowing how much love and energy he put into compiling it gives it an extra special place in our hearts.
Compiled by Jamie Tiller and Eiji Taniguchi with artwork by Kenta Senekt, design by Steele Bonus and liner notes by Itaru W. Mita,

Yokohama multi-instrumentalist Tokio Ono eases into the Accidental Meetings' family with an array of Japanese folk tinged avant-dubs, drenched in beautiful texture.
The elusive artist has spent much of his life in his hometown with a view of the Yokohama waters, before settling into a new environment in Tokyo where Peel gradually took shape. The essence of a given situation emerges as you peel it away, these tracks were inspired by the accumulation of days and flashbacks of memories: layers to peel joyfully from our lives, while offering a slightly shifted and refreshing perspective on one’s surroundings. It's a dreamy journey from open to close, Ono's world engulfs you in a blissful dubbed out wormhole. Featuring a flip from the sound system royalty of Seekers International to top it off, Peel is a unique and exquisite piece of work.

As far as we know, or at least can discern from those letters and records published after his tragically early death at the age of 40, the author Franz Kafka had two great love affairs. The second, with journalist and translator Milena Jesenská, has been widely celebrated in the decades since the collected, one-sided Letters to Milena was compiled and published. In it, we see what must be the total store of his warmth and passion – everything lacking in his disorienting, menacing fictions. The Milena letters, strange and hot and highly questionable as they are, remain a source of fascination and inspiration for Kafka fanatics, erotomaniacs and historians alike.
Unfortunately, their intellectually salacious reputation means those Letters far overshadow an earlier, thicker, darker volume penned by Franz K to his first great love and one-time fiancée, Felice Bauer, a relative of his lifelong editor Max Brod. While Kafka’s real-life story is one of brutal sexual failure and alienation before, during and after these two longer-term relationships, he managed a depth of written intimacy with both of these women most accurately described as harrowing. This tendency to expose himself most in moments of bitter melancholy is far more apparent and striking in the collected Letters to Felice.
This cold zoetrope, which conceals and reveals at accelerated frame-rates, eventually making a complex picture from an endless sequencing of small repetitive gestures, is the scaffold supporting Aris Kindt, the ongoing two-piece ‘post-structuralist pop’ project from Francis Harris and Gabe Hedrick. With Now Claims My Timid Heart, Harris and Hedrick continue the experiment started on Swann and Odette, crafting closed systems that promote a hushed correspondence between their sonic (Basic Channel, drone metal) and literary influences (Kafka, Sebald, Pynchon).
Their commitment to this insular, architectural thesis resolves itself yet again with a record that manages to be simultaneously alienating and deeply human. This is largely due to the novel and particular ways the band achieves its trademark sound: For Timid Heart (their first record since 2017 as well as their first release on NYC’s Quiet Time Tapes), Harris eliminated much of music’s normal dependence on physical space, instead creating hermetically sealed sonic ‘rooms’ where the songs can live by sending samples and loops through convolution reverb. Each of the eight tracks on Timid Heart is fundamentally, thus, a field recording from an inaccessible world.
Nowhere is this more apparent than on ‘Letters to Felice,’ which contains some of the album’s most Kafkaesque, dystopian atonality, as well as the most obvious influence of storied producer and engineer Phil Weinrobe (Adrienne Lenker, Big Thief), who oversaw mixing for the record. This is about as upbeat as Aris Kindt gets; listening closely and taking into consideration the Rembrandt painting that gave the band its name, one can only hear the ravings of the human heart in a biomechanical sense. Not the stuff of love letters, but the operating table; not throbbing with lust, but electricity. It is the sort of music that begs the listener to remain at a slight remove for their own safety, to avoid going out in the way that desire, once sated, also ceases to be.
Now Claims My Timid Heart is, in this way, both a continuation of and an advancement upon Swann’s speculative emotional landscape; it maintains the band’s mystic sense of intimacy while simultaneously moving it in a more interior, cautiously analytic direction. Like viewing the Aris Kindt of Rembrandt’s masterpiece, or the vulnerabilities of Kafka on the private page, Timid Heart feels at times like getting a peek into an autopsy in progress. Simultaneously raw and clinical, it pulses inside the listener, encouraging retreat – if only into oneself.

Operating on the fringes of pure improv, organised chaos, minimal composition, lo-fi electronics and Italian spaghetti westerns, wide-eyed and with a healthy dose of DIY aesthetics lies the world of Jaan. It’s a poetic & cosmic universe, exploring “discreet music” whilst wandering on the edges of the Cat People soundtrack & Brian Eno’s more experimental output, in which you might yourself find floating, wandering or in the middle of a market place.
Jaan is a collective of one, a deliberately anonymous activistic unit with strong ties to the international art scene. Purposefully bypassing the know-it-all of the the internet & embracing the bygone mystery of dusty old archives and deep-dive searching, remarkably little is known about this project. Jaan is lead by veteran experimental sonic alchemist Jaan; they operate between Greenland, the Middle East and Europe, with frequent associates Lisqa, Mashid & Schneorr N. acting as local hubs for collaboration and exploration.
The purpose of this wilful obscurity: full focus on the actual music, whether live events or on recordings. Which brings us to Baghali, their first for World of Echo. It’s a deeply personal album, much like slowly browsing old family albums filled with vaguely remembered tales, some still very much present, some faded, leaving but a ghost-like reflection of what once was. Baghali was compiled over the course of a year on the road, trapped in snow storms, waiting for cancelled flights and stuck rides. It’s made up of snippets of diary, quick recordings on road sides, abandoned buildings, garden ruins, vast desert and focussed studio sessions, following a collage-like aesthetic and steeped in an exploration of non-lineair storytelling. There’s broken memories, a sense of displacement and an occasional yearning for what can’t be again, clouded in fever and unrest, but there is also hope, wonderment and bright colours seeping through the cracks in the wall. Jaan weaves home-made instruments, old tape loops, broken synths, beat-up reeds, dusty beat boxes and the occasional doom guitar squall into a tapestry of fractured sound, with tracks following their own inherent logic rather than following formats. Sounds crash in and out, field recordings placing the listener firmly in an environment then throwing several perspectives at once onto them, with individual elements - a wandering clarinet, a lone mandolin, a beat out of place yet perfectly in place - slowly walking in and out & doing their thing.
The whole album is alive, breathes, takes a wrong turn, gets lost, somehow finds its way again - effortless and with a unique sense of space and flow.
A flawless downbeat diamond is back in circulation with 10 year repress of Conrad Standish & Sam Karmel’s 1st EP as CS + Kreme - an essential jewel in the Naarm (Melbourne) crown along with fellow greats HTRK, Tarquin Manek, YL Hooi, Carla Dal Forno, Laila Sakini, et al Among our favourite records of the past decade, ‘EP1’ has become a true go-to when nowt else will suffice. For half an hour it caresses the senses and bathes bodies in blissed-out vox and velvet stroked textures that glisten with a certain, far-away Antipodean romance that simply transports and beautifully hurts every time. A case in point is ‘Devotion’, with dawn-break synth pads and calm heartbeat introducing a gorgeous Hindustani-style string motif and Clare Wolnick’s flute, before Conrad’s mantric vox just sets it off to a whole other plane. Or ‘Basic Instinct (Club Scene)’ that follows it, a track that to our ears always felt like a time-warped refraction of The Style Council’s sweaty, debonaire ‘Long Hot Summer’, pitch bent and pitch-fucked to absolutely heart-melting perfection; the care and attention to floating, dub-wise space and everything measured in its right place just leaving you with your heart-in-mouth like little else.

Super Tip! Kali Malone and Drew McDowall have orbited each other's work for over a decade, their individual explorations of sustained tones and harmonic space suggesting an inevitable collaboration. When they finally entered McDowall's Brooklyn studio together, what emerged on Magnetism transcends mere musical compatibility. Malone has spent recent years extending the legacy of Éliane Radigue, redefining what electronic minimalism can accomplish through pipe organ and synthesizer. Her compositions stretch single chords into cathedral-sized architectures of sound, tracing harmonic territories that Radigue first mapped in her pioneering electronic works. McDowall brings a different lineage: as a veteran of Coil, he approaches synthesis with the patience of an alchemist, crafting electronic textures that breathe with unsettling life. Magnetism resolves this apparent contradiction through sonic diplomacy. Malone's melodic sensibilities—those long, searching lines that seem to trace the curvature of space itself—find new expression through McDowall's textural arsenal. Where Malone typically builds with mathematical precision inherited from the Radigue tradition, McDowall introduces the controlled chaos he perfected with Coil: digital distortion that pulses like organic matter, synthesis algorithms that decay at the speed of memory. The album's foundation reveals their shared fascination with the spaces between notes. Karplus-Strong synthesis becomes their primary tool, combined with just intonation tuning systems that allow Magnetism to inhabit frequencies conventional instruments cannot reach. But technique serves expression here, not the reverse. Across four extended movements, repetition becomes meditation, saturation a means of transcendence. There's something ritualistic about how these pieces unfold, their harmonic cycles suggesting ancient ceremonies filtered through electronic consciousness. This is music that operates on geological time while pulsing with digital immediacy. The collaboration marks significant evolution for both artists. Malone embraces the productive friction of working with another creative mind, while McDowall discovers in her melodic clarity a redemptive light reminiscent of Coil's more transcendent moments. Together, they've created something that feels both ancient and urgently contemporary—proof that experimental music's most profound statements emerge when distinct artistic visions recognize themselves in each other.


Unfolding is Jessica Moss’s most meditative and plaintive solo album, and perhaps the first in the Montréal violinist/composer’s decade-spanning discography that could properly be called ambient. The ex-Silver Mt Zion member and Black Ox Orkestar co-founder draws from post-classical, drone, minimalism, industrial/metal, power electronics, Klezmer and other folkways: this is not abstract ambient music. Layers of violin melody, electroacoustic processing, intermittent voice, and percussion from The Necks drummer Tony Buck, yield deeply emotive genre-defying compositions, guided by a spirit of searching and summoning that unfolds in a prevailing atmosphere of incantation and mournful restraint. Working closely with producer Radwan Ghazi Moumneh (Jerusalem In My Heart), Moss notes "Unfolding was made slowly, over the last 12 months, the second full year of genocide in Palestine, in direct response to our collective witnessing, our collective grief, as a portal to collective mourning, as a searchlight through our internal weather systems, seeking one another out in the dark." The inseparability of the personal and political has wrung ever tighter for Moss these past two years, as for so many. She’s co-organized and played several benefit shows as a core member of the Montréal chapter of Musicians For Palestine, and she released the solo album For UNRWA in spring 2024 (garnering over 800 supporters and raising thousands of dollars). Moss’s music was already moving towards heightened fragility and deep listening, becoming increasingly durational and ceremonial. Despite the plummeting financial viability of touring, her devotion to holding space, conjuring entanglement, and connecting with intimate live audiences has become her creative lodestar, especially following lockdown. With her solo praxis shaped by committing to and communing in these rooms, recent political and personal upheavals have only intensified her ritualistic, reparative musical processes. The two longform tracks on Side One of Unfolding embody this sensibility. "Washing Machine" weaves layers of string drone and filigree, gently noised by distortion pedals and amplification, with indecipherably blown-out spoken voice intermittently enveloping the mix as fragmentary palimpsests of shrouded recitation and ineffable feeling. The piece traces its origins to a phone recording of a European laundry machine, captured by Moss as she sat next to it, heartbroken on the bathroom floor, finding solace by humming a melody along to the mechanical harmonics of the washer working through its cycles. Album centerpiece "One, Now" begins as a delicate invocation, with bass pulse, chimes and bells, plucked strings, and doleful lead violin lines influenced by Jewish and Arabic modes. Ambient noise, field recordings, and wordless vocals are added to the brew, as violin melodies layer and coalesce towards a mesmerizing dronescape: a semi-improvised living composition further vitalized by Tony Buck’s paintbrush drumming throughout, and Moumneh’s "yell into the void" at the end.. Side Two is a work in four parts titled "no one / no where / no one is free / until all are free" that moves through ambient noise, elegiac post-classical strings, and distorted harmonic drones, towards a denouement of liturgical organ, ritual bell, and shimmering electronic tracers that set the stage for the album’s closing song: the devastating choral composition "until all are free", a secular hymn comprised of Jessica’s multi-tracked vocals (but which she looks forward to singing with others in concert). Unfolding is dedicated to "a free Palestine in our lifetime." Thanks for listening.

Pick a small spot (a point) in front of you (a small knot of wood, a dog down the way). And tightly focus on this spot. And now slowly unfocus your gaze. Widen your gaze. Pan out without moving your eyes. Take it all in.
A smeared and pixelated surface, swelling of contour and light. (Monet’s seepages of light, Altman’s overlapping nomadic dialogue.) Once you have unfocused with little to no center of attention, slowly close your eyes. And please feel very free to notice the light. All of the light that your eyes knocked back as you dilated your focal point. This exercise can be repeated a few times. Unfocusing does not always come easily. And it is probably best to not put too much effort into it. Best to not employ too much pressure.
And we will not put too much pressure on this exercise to help us explain away the humidly, saturatedly psychedelic canopy of moan-‘n-twang and slackelastic-groove of The Dwarfs Of East Agouza’s Sasquatch Landslide.
Mitch Hedberg has a great joke about the Sasquatch: “I think Bigfoot is blurry. That’s the problem. It’s not the photographer’s fault. Bigfoot is blurry! And that’s extra scary to me, because there’s a large out-of-focus monster roaming the countryside.”
Sasquatch Landslide. A landslide of hazy configurations. Blurriness, far from a lack of detail, is an embroidering of detail, a horizontal expansion of surface and swarms of light. The name “Sasquatch” derives from the Salish word se'sxac, which means “wild men.” And Sasquatch Landslide is wild. Everything is unravelling. Offset. Décalage. A whole host of slippery tempos and pulses as the organs, guitars and saxophones loiter and lope over a skipping hop of beats, and everything emerges always mid-stream. It is all middle with no halfway point, no dead center, no bullseye. Everything twangs, moans, sweeps, slips, swings, skitters, slides, and grooves out of nowhere. And the almost-human voice with no mother-tongue.
There is something ecstatic (an elatedly miniscule frenzy) going on here but it is pushed beyond the ecstatic: a joyous-grotesque rolling right past trance to dance. Psychedelias appear out of the infra-spaces in between the apparitions and overlapping ‘regimes’ and registers—pushed and squeezed far beyond the recognizable. And these spaces groove joyously hard like some kind of illusive House music, houses completely submerged in molasses. BigFoot-work? (Oh my!) There is not a place to throw your anchor here in the furrowing humidity. That does, and it does, sound like some kind of landslide.
A psychedelic encounter is a brush with the marvel of otherness. The point from which we speak of other, becomes other itself, in an ever-storm of other-production that shreds ideas of knowing and understanding what we think is going on. Time unhinged from the clock. Space unhinged from the frame. An unpinpointing hallucination, a hot get-down, an untethered throw-down of oscillations, fiercely, joyously, exuberantly incomprehensible. Listening to Sasquatch Landslide, a wildly unhinged reverie.
Eric Chenaux and Mariette Cousty
Condat-sur-Ganaveix, February 2025
