Ambient / Minimal / Drone

This is the Italian electronic producer’s debut album for Munich’s Ilian Tape label; for a record coming out of post-industrial Turin, its aesthetic is surprisingly luminous. The roster of Munich’s Ilian Tape may be headlined by locals like the Zenker Brothers and Skee Mask, but the label’s Italian contingent has long been one of its biggest strengths. Turin natives Stenny and Andrea first connected with the crew in 2011, when the former organized an Ilian Tape night and spent a couple of days driving the Zenker Brothers around his hometown. The following year, both Stenny and Andrea debuted on the imprint, and the two have been part of Ilian Tape’s core membership ever since, sharing similar trajectories and helping to solidify the label’s distinct brand of broken techno. In 2019, Stenny leveled up when he released his debut full-length, Upsurge, which impressively brought together angular breakbeats, dalliances with drum’n’bass, and headier ambient sounds. Now it’s Andrea’s turn to tackle the album format, with excellent results. His productions have always fallen toward the dreamier end of the spectrum, and he’s leaned into that here; it’s not often that Ilian Tape releases could be described as shimmering, but the album’s palette is a lot closer to Café del Mar than Cafe OTO. The sparkling arpeggios of aqueous opener “Attimo” and the dreamy synths that idle atop the peppy breakbeats of “LS September” are just two of the LP’s more Balearic elements, but golden hues and languid melodies drift and linger throughout. For a record coming out of a cold, post-industrial corner of northern Italy, Ritorno’s aesthetic is surprisingly luminous. Despite its sunny overtones, there’s plenty of low-end weight in the album’s foundation. The fluttering basslines of “TrackQY”—the LP’s most obviously club-ready tune—sound like something lifted from late-’90s drum’n’bass, while the crunchy wobble of “Liquid” is a classic dubstep throwback. There’s an abundance of DJ material, yet the album is practically devoid of staid, linear rhythms. Cribbing from house, techno, electro, breakbeat, jungle, trip-hop and IDM, Andrea’s hybrid creations have a lot in common with the more intriguing strands of bass music coming from UK outposts like Timedance and Livity Sound. From the soaring jungle mutation “Drumzzy” to the shuffling serenity of “Isabelle’s String,” the drum programming taps into a unique sort of organized chaos, with loose-limbed beats regularly teetering on the edge of collapse but somehow never losing the groove. Ritorno is Italian for “return,” and it’s easy to detect a ’90s vibe in its cosmic inclinations and freewheeling rhythms, which hark back to a sunnier, more lighthearted era when genre lines were less defined and the electronic music world wasn’t quite so balkanized. But Ritorno isn’t a strictly nostalgic effort, and the production is unmistakably modern, even as Andrea criss-crosses through numerous styles and eras. Outside of his long-running affiliation with Ilian Tape, he has never been locked into any particular trend or scene; instead, he has quietly developed his own artistic vision during years spent working in the background. That patience has paid off: Ritorno is a remarkably confident and cohesive work. Nearly a decade in the making, it’s Andrea’s first big statement, and proof that this low-key Italian producer has something valuable to add to the conversation.

Best Available TechnologyやAzu Tiwaline、Ghost Phoneといった実験的なアクトなども作品を残す英国のレーベル、パーティー、ポッドキャスト〈Accidental Meetings〉からは、AusschussやBruce、Rupert Clervaux、Jay Glass Dubs、FUMU、Robin Stewart (Giant Swan)など、豪華面々が参加したパキスタン洪水被害者へのチャリティー・コンピレーションCDを発表。Bruceの"Self Doubt"の冷たい音色の抽象化とグラインド、Abu Amaの踏みつけるようなアラビアン・ドラムに焦げたドローン、Jay Glass Dubsのオートチューンド・ダブ"The Creatures in Defence"まで、沈静的なアンビエント/エクスペリメンタル・クラブ・サウンドを収録。限定盤。

London hyper-connector label Accidental Meetings hustle exclusive work by Jay Glass Dubs’ Wild Terrier Orchestra, Rupert Clervaux, Susu Laroche, Bruce, Luke Lund, FUMU, Ausschuss, Dijit, memotone, Giant Swan’s Robin Stewart and more in aid of charity for victims of the Pakistan floods Converging from myriad disciplines, the artists on board all channel a certain mix of self-reflective solemnity, intensity and optimism into their musics here. We’re particularly struck by the cold tonal abstraction and grind of Bruce’s away day ‘Self Doubt’, and likewise the haunting shape of Abu Ama’s trampling Arabic drums, charred drone and ululations on ‘Away With You’, the anxious grapple of FUMU on ‘Tougher than Dartmoor Tundra’, and a pair of meditative wonders pivoting around Dimitris Papadatos in the autotuned dub prayer ‘The Creatures in Defence’ as Jay Glass Dubs with X. YPNO, or the radiant microtonal ritualism to ‘Osman Takas’ by his Wild Terrier Orchestra. Egypt’s Youth affiliate Dijit also charms with the sitar-laced illbient downstroke of ’Sharq’, MAL’s Ausschuss lays down gravelly drill shades away from Mobbs in ‘True Partner’, and Angel Hunt serves a set highlight of Arabic-inflected 2-step on ‘Rainham Steel’, chiming with club-adjacent tackle in Luke Lund’s Beau Wanzer-esque grinder ‘Imposter (Bristol Action)’, the Muslimgauze-like percussive rattle of Rupert Clervaux an HMOT’s ‘Zum F/F’, plus Livity Sound paralleling rhythmic workout from Saskia and the restless uptempo slug of Robin Stewart .iframe style="border: 0; width: 350px; height: 373px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=2639086951/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless>Islands by Merope

The 3th album by MEROPE (2018) with arrangements of Lithuanian folk songs and own compositions. A unique trio sound with a blend of acoustic instruments, voice, el. guitar and electronics. Naktes presents a world full of wonder, inspired by the atmosphere of the night. After the release of Merope 'Salos' (STRLP-051 / gran21) we decided to repress Merope's previous album Naktes too. A collaboration with Stroom & granvat.

Here is a hidden gem from the 1990s, a sparkling cyber-ambient-Mandarin pop collection produced by Henry Kawahara, the master of cyber-occult music, with silky vocals from Shanghai-born vocalist Xiao Yun Wu. Originally released on CD in 1994 on Kawahara’s own HMD label, the Xiao Yun project was launched by Kawahara and his trusted colleague Keisuke Oki, who plays keyboards on the album. Kawahara handled the production, along with guitar, keyboards and programming. And of course, the crowning glory is the voice of Xiao Yun: lovely, floating, ethereal. The singer arranged the songs, which range from versions of previously released Kawahara solo pieces to Mandarin pop classics. All songs are given Kawahara’s cyber-occult sheen, which may evoke visions of the cosmopolitan Asia of near-future science fiction. Available on vinyl and digital download, this album will transport you, via 1994, to a sparkling future. 

Xiao Yun are 
Xiao Yun Wu: vocals 
Henry Kawahara: keyboards, guitars and computer programming 
Support: Keisuke Oki (keyboards) and Keiichi Hasegawa (percussion) 
Produced and engineered by Henry Kawahara 
Arranged by Henry Kawahara and Xiao Yun 
Recorded at Ecosystem Sonic Division/Fukuoka, 1993-1994

"Dark Haired Girls" There Must Be Someone by Tor Lundvall Share / Embed In Wishlist view supported by Nightflyer thumbnail Nightflyer Can't wait to receive this beautiful box by one of my absolute favourite dark ambient artists ! :-) Erik A. Ingmanndsen thumbnail Somewherecoldfan thumbnail foccil thumbnail Chris Hibler thumbnail little_black_cat thumbnail nk11clouds thumbnail Leather thumbnail yukbon thumbnail Mick Zeuner thumbnail miosotide thumbnail Brian Nelson thumbnail Concrete Violin thumbnail treehandthingy thumbnail CMB thumbnail cjrfel thumbnail Jeff Irish thumbnail kholkhoz thumbnail eyespark thumbnail swensej thumbnail infiniteinalldirections thumbnail Bruce Levenstein thumbnail diespach24 thumbnail keith schuerholz thumbnail pinofalcone thumbnail selectrecs thumbnail apossession thumbnail noddyprof93 thumbnail ANTOINE LOGUILLARD thumbnail LELONG CHRISTIAN thumbnail Exbtn Records thumbnail Matthew Stradling thumbnail Forget It! 03:22 / 05:53 5-CD Box Set Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album package image PREORDER - Out December 9th, 2022. Includes 5 albums: Passing Through Alone, A Strangeness In Motion, A Dark Place, Beautiful Illusions, and the long out-of-print Ghost Years - with art & lyrics booklet. Includes digital pre-order of There Must Be Someone. You get 3 tracks now (streaming via the free Bandcamp app and also available as a high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more), plus the complete album the moment it’s released. digital album releases January 27, 2023 item ships out within 3 days edition of 1000 Pre-order Compact Disc $34.99 USD or more Send as Gift Digital Album Streaming + Download Pre-order of There Must Be Someone. You get 3 tracks now (streaming via the free Bandcamp app and also available as a high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more), plus the complete album the moment it’s released. releases January 27, 2023 Pre-order Digital Album $29.99 USD or more Send as Gift 1. Original One 2. Procession Day 3. The Clearing 4. The Melting Hour 5. Flight 6. Watched 7. Hidden 8. The Night Watch 9. Lessons That Kill 10. August Rain 11. Violet Bird 12. South Pacific 13. He's Falling 14. Power Failure 15. Dangerous Snakes 16. Days 17. Forget It! 05:53 video lyrics buy track 18. Where is She? 19. Pollen 20. Dark Angels 21. Ghost Years 22. Raven Eyes 23. Cloaked 24. Poison Symbols 25. Birds in Spring 26. Murder 27. The Pathway 28. Midnight Question 29. Grey Sunday 30. Pollen (4-Track Mix) 31. Dark Angels (Demo) 32. Ghost Years (Demo) 33. Raven Eyes (Demo) 34. Cloaked (4-Track Mix) 35. Murder (4-Track Mix) 36. Grey Sunday (Demo) 37. Grey Sunday (Video Version) 38. Ghost Years (Alternate Version) 39. Evening 40. Leaves 41. Winter Song (Original Version) 42. The Watchers 43. Birds Asleep 44. Tears and Rain 45. Aliénor 46. Lost At Sea (2) 47. Routine 48. My Weakness 49. The Falling Snow (Remixed Edited Version) 50. Winter Song (7-Inch Version) 51. Last Rays 52. A Room By The Sea 53. Quiet Room 54. Haunted By The Sky 55. The Moment 56. The Invisible Man 57. Negative Moon 58. The Void 59. A Dark Place 60. The Next World 61. Dark Haired Girls 04:02 video 62. Negative Moon (Early Version) 63. Their Souls 64. Forever Rain 65. Drowning 66. Blessings Counted 67. Love Song 68. Four Bluebirds 69. Lonely Boy 70. Two Windows 71. Dark Sea 06:45 about To commemorate the quarter century anniversary of Tor Lundvall’s self-released debut, 'Passing Through Alone', Lundvall and Dais have joined forces for a fresh 5-CD box set of long out-of-print titles, vinyl-only releases, and unheard bonus tracks: 'There Must Be Someone'. Spanning 33 years, the collection showcases the subtle but striking evolution of Lundvall’s sound, from brisk autumnal synth-pop to desolate dark place devotionals to fragile winter moon meditations and beyond. What remains constant is his exquisite sense of mood and movement, qualities reflected in his iconic oil paintings of willowy figures amidst luminous, liminal landscapes. The box set begins with 'Passing Through Alone', Lundvall’s first full-length, issued in 1997 on his Eternal Autumn Editions imprint. Engineered, mixed, and co-produced by his brother Kurt, and sold primarily at Lundvall’s gallery exhibitions, the album is an intriguing entryway to a world still dawning. Brooding and melancholic but distinctly more linear and melodic than later work, the songs flirt with the fringes of new romanticism, sketched in his signature palette of synth, sequencers, guitar, drum machines, and hushed, spectral voice. Next included is an expanded edition of the eclectic 2010 collection 'Ghost Years', an array of stray singles, alternate mixes, and compilation tracks dating between 1995 to 2020. It’s bracingly varied but effectively immersive, showcasing Lundvall’s sharpening gift for spatial dynamics and icy minimalism. The other three discs are inaugural CD editions of a trio of Dais vinyl titles from 2018 to 2021: 'A Strangeness In Motion (Early Pop Recordings • 1989-1999)'; 'A Dark Place'; and 'Beautiful Illusions'. The first is an archival anthology of material predating his debut, bedroom synth-pop born of solitude and the supernatural, alternately anthemic, wounded, and windswept. The latter two are shadowy recent full-lengths capturing Lundvall at the height of his powers: refined, remote, revelatory. Reflecting back on this vast body of work is “strange and bittersweet,” but Lundvall fin

5AM is a band, and a group effort by long time adulthood friends 5ive, Andry and Moko. 5ive is known for his ongoing contribution for music-duo Cos/Mes and other various projects, Andry is a multidisciplinary designer and Moko works as DJ and producer under her project Powder. After a long period of hanging out and sharing music to each, the band 5AM was naturally found in 2019, and soon made a small debut. 5AM plays about time, sings about observation and thinks about texture, atmosphere, and listening-space and random other stuff. Caring of subtle things for the big picture. Pre Zz is the first album by 5AM, recorded through 2020 and 2021, packaged day to day remixed feelings about that time, but not necessary just about that time. The album captures the moment of changes — Pre something — as like before a sleep after a long stay up Zz.

A series of solemnly transcendent long form works by the ever prolific Kevin Drumm, ranging from pieces dedicated to Peter Rehberg & Joe Camarillo, to remedial drones and sublime harmonic balms, all produced between a time period of 12 months. PRESS: Ineffably stunning long-form drift/drone works from Kevin Drumm, created over a year-long period and existing in the same frozen realm as his classic "Imperial Distortion" / "Imperial Horizon" sides. Highly immersive work recommended if you’ve enjoyed material by Stephan Mathieu, Eliane Radigue, Phill Niblock, Andrew Chalk. Drumm is a prolific musician, no doubt, but that shouldn't give you any reason to miss one of his finest - and most moving - releases in years. "120121" hits a somber note, memorialising Drumm's friends Peter Rehberg and Joe Camarillo, the Chicago drummer who died in January last year. But as much as it hovers around a pensive mood, there's no shortage of hope coursing through the album's six extended compositions. The sound shimmers and sways as if piped down from the heavens, striking a chord that links liturgical music with the stretched, minimalist experimentations of Eliane Radigue or Drumm's occasional collaborator Phill Niblock. 'Far Off From Difference’ starts things off with a cluster of sustained tones that throb and drift barely perceptibly. Listen closely, however, and you’ll find a world of microtonal, almost orchestral flourishes in miniature, reminding us of Stephan Mathieu's angelic "Radioland”. 'MayorOfPosen' is the album's lengthy centrepiece, using a 20-minute runtime to expand on a single, sustained organ note, bobbing listlessly in an ocean of harmonics and blurred textures. 'Grey Screen' is almost as generous, but sidesteps sacred sounds in favour of more minimal oscillations that suggest harmony through unsettling dissonance. The most unexpected track is 'C', taking a saturated tape drone and extending it over 10 minutes, lifting it towards the sky. In a landscape that's filled with nameless drone and ambient recordings more concerned with replication than exploration, it's nourishing to hear an artist like Drumm digging thru the recesses to keep up a level of quality that's genuinely startling to witness this many years into his career. -Boomkat

tarting in 2019 with ‘Life In A Shell’, the then new and upcoming Japanese producer yolabmi lay the foundation for a triptych of releases on Vaknar in the span of 3 years, all of which formed an ongoing sonic interrogation with his own past, while also consequentially reflecting on his growth as an composer and individual. The final stage of this album triptych, ‘For Wind Poetry’, once again underpins the natural world of yolabmi’s past with the technocratic eccentricity of his present self, yet rather than letting his matured proficiency over his modular synthesizer reign throughout the span of the album, yolabmi chooses to end this chapter via an introspective sonic long-form of redemptive stimulation.

When we can no longer move forward or look outward, some reflect and seek truth in themselves – some sharing, through the language of music, what might be impossible to say through words. --- Amidst the budding tempest of 2020, Jeremiah Carter, originally hailing from Tennessee, found himself embroiled in a near suffocating air of uncertainty and anxious tension, mainly brought upon by the first spikes in a soon to be world-wide pandemic. Only having recently relocated to the bustling city of New York, an unprecedented series of events took shape over the following months, isolating and alarming the city's residents in the process. It was during this time that Jeremiah fully turned his attention to music, discharging the emotional turmoil surrounding him, into newly composed work. Beginning with the album ‘Rejoice’, which was completed in the wake of 2020 and released on A Sunken Mall that same year, two more albums took shape in a quasi-self-induced creative tremor that materializing a wealth of work and formed a triptych of three unique albums, all produced within the span of only 6 months. Finally, presented here is the second part of the triptych; ‘Speak, You Also’, dedicated to Paul Celan and giving further insight into the heart of a beloved southerner, tangled in the mesh of existence, crisis and communication, far away from the prairies he once called home.

Flowing water is an essential element of Earthly existence, a living force, a process of nature, a path-making which combines infinite sources mixing imperceptibly into a singular energy. It’s also a potent metaphor. A childlike wonder at flowing water’s presence and power, all the impressions it makes and creative neurons that it fires, happens to be a personality trait shared by Evan Shornstein (aka Photay) and Carlos Niño. The two producers/musical connectors may have grown up and reside a continent and daily realities apart — Photay in the forest serenity of New York’s Hudson Valley, Niño on Los Angeles’s ocean-adjacent west side — yet this magnetic power of fluidity, its sound, its meaning, what it can teach us about art and circulation, mesmerizes them both. Water is the spiritual center of their first album-length collaboration, the vast and deep An Offering — from the visual on the cover, to the first sound you hear on the opening “Prelude,” to the underlying themes and images espoused by the poet-philosopher Iasos on the closing “Existence.” More importantly, the image of water-like flow is a continuous reflection of how these two musicians have come to work together and apart, of the way they made An Offering, and how they’re continuing to create, without a beginning and (hopefully) with no end in sight. An infinite flow of sound, from and to every direction. Some of this work directly reflects the relationship between the two men, and of where/how Photay’s electronic, often-dancefloor-oriented tracks found Niño’s far-reaching world of ambient spirituality and improvised soundscaping. The meeting point is precise: Laraaji, the new age zither legend with whom Niño regularly collaborates, including at a June 2016 show in New York City which Niño played and Shornstein attended. The connection initiated immediately after that performance did not simply find the pair participating in each other’s recording projects — Photay remixing a Niño-produced Laraaji track and involved in Niño & Friends sessions; Carlos showing up on multiple songs of Photay’s 2020 album, Waking Hours, some of which was recorded at Niño’s studio—but in a broad exchange of ideas. Niño long ago established himself as one of Los Angeles’ great musical conduits, constructing environments that facilitate partnerships between far-flung artists, perpetuating the freedom of working in the present, outside expectations, trusting the work’s destination. When the younger Shornstein met Niño, his own creative process was ”almost too precious, and it was always my goal to break out of that.” Adapting Carlos’ pacing and free-flowing strategies — scenarios such as sharing recorded stems, bringing in old recordings to serendipitously fit new tracks, or mixing organic improvisations with stylized, post-produced rhythms — transformed Evan’s perspective. It made him rethink ideas like “finished,” shedding pressurized over-analysis for a process he calls “fluid” and “healthy.” It also made Shornstein reconsider some music they’d recorded but originally left off Waking Hours, “microscopic moments that were more expansive in my mind — there was so much honesty there.” What may not have made sense within the composed, hyper-stylized beauty of Hours, “felt really good” outside that context. Niño, who describes himself as “very album-oriented,” agreed, suggesting they create a unified body of work to match those moments — but not overthink it, make it quick, easy, productive, present. Which is how the re-imagining of pieces of music that became “Change” and “Exist,” sprung Photay and Carlos Niño into collaborating even more closely, and brought An Offering to the world. The sounds they gathered into an intentional, meditative whole, were made together and apart, and sourced from all over. The two producers made connections between new music and recordings they already had: Shornstein found hours of tape featuring solo playing by Upstate New York harpist Mikaela Davis, which became a central adornment on multiple tracks. Niño sent Shornstein a quartet improvisation he made with tenor saxophonist Aaron Shaw, keyboardist Diego Gaeta and synth-guitarist Nate Mercereau, which became the basis of “Honor.” They brought in trusted partners. The atmospheric blowing of LA-based tenor saxophonist Randal Fisher is a focal point throughout, at times processed by Photay’s machines. Photay’s trombone player Nathaneal Ranson, and Niño’s long-standing LA-based collaborator, vocalist Mia Doi Todd, float in-and-out of the mix. When Niño makes a record, another original “new age” legend, Iasos, is bound to be around, and his strong summation on “Existence” are the only words An Offering submits. The healing energy of Peterskill, a short rocky State Park waterway that ebbs through New York’s Ulster County (and across from Shornstein’s home — “a real environmental inspiration”), flows throughout. “Creating with no constructs,” is how Shornstein describes the process of bringing these elements together. “It was just a feeling, which maybe is what music or creating should always be.” Peterskill was also the source for a long extra track/outro when An Offering debuted as a Bandcamp-exclusive cassette in October 2021 — and quickly sold out. (A gorgeous Shornstein-directed film accompanied the release as well.) The notion of this music as “offering” came to life in its immediacy (the tape was released only a month and half after the idea for it was seeded) and in its gift-like nature (you can still get the digital version at a price of your own choosing). Scott McNiece of International Anthem found it, and instantly connected with its natural essence, a sound that accompanies one’s movements through difficult moments, the motion of instinctive change, a way to mark the radical period of our time with incremental alterations. Like flowing water affecting an ancient landscape. International Anthem offered to give An Offering a full vinyl release, which is why you are reading this one-sheet right now. And like any current, the interconnectedness between Photay and Carlos Niño, their symbiotic way of informing and influencing each other’s sounds, continues to naturally move forward and shapeshift. They are working on multiple projects together at the moment, and have already completed More Offerings. Flow on! - Piotr Orlov, August 2022

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

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

For piano and tape: Lerkenfeldt explores minimalist structures with stillness and intensity. Her imaginative process is poetic and precise; distilling new registers in the field of consciousness through electroacoustic composition, like a torchlight in the dark. Alongside classical instrumentation, she augments abandoned technologies into new hybrid forms through handcraft, digitisation and experimental digital processing. Flickering piano, tape systems and their spatialised distortions unfold in repetitive motifs on With Water Up To Her Knees. In Before They Were Clouds, multi-layered acoustic refractions speculate on atmospheric systems. With Water Up To Her Knees is produced by Shelter Press in small series cassette single edition and digital with a limited pullout poster and poem by the artist. The work has its world premiere at eminent electronic arts centre The Substation, Melbourne on 24-25 November 2022, with an audio visual performance in collaboration with filmmaker Tristan Jalleh. Written and recorded on unceded Wurundjeri and Boon Wurrung country, Summer 2022. “I love the sound of mechanical failure, when the sophisticated machine collapses into itself.”

Faitiche is delighted to release a short version of the radio play Zwischen (German for ‘between’). Devised and produced by Jan Jelinek for German public broadcaster SWR2, Zwischen brings together twelve sound poetry collages using interview answers by public figures. Each collage consists of the brief moments between the spoken words: silences, pauses for breath and hesitations in which the interviewees utter non-semantic sound particles. These voice collages also control a synthesizer, creating electronic sounds that overlay and merge with the voices to make twelve acoustic structures. We all know the speaker’s fate: you falter, you mispronounce, there are breaks, silences and false starts. This results in delays, a language noise compared by Roland Barthes to the knocks made by a malfunctioning motor. Such gaps can be disconcerting, standing as they do for a failure of the speaker’s rhetorical skills. But what happens when they become a constitutive, poetic factor? Zwischen consists of twelve answers to twelve questions. The answers were all recorded in interview situations. From the speech of the interviewees – all eloquent public figures – the pauses are extracted and edited together. The result is a series of sound collages of silence. But this silence is deceptive, as it is only meaning that falls silent. What remains audible is an archaic body language: modes of breathing, planning phases, seething word particles in search of sense that can break out into onomatopoeic tumult or drift off into sonorous noise. In a further step, each of the twelve collages controls a modular synthesizer via its amplitude and frequency. Supposedly defective speech acts conduct synthetic sounds and the speakers regain their composure – not via the spoken word, but through sound. The opening questions in the various interviews are answered by: Alice Schwarzer, John Cage, Hubert Fichte, Slavoj Žižek, Joseph Beuys, Lady Gaga, Ernst Jandl, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Marcel Duchamp, Friederike Mayröcker, Yoko Ono and Max Ernst.

Aclod is the first fruit of the telekinetic long distance collaboration between Juho Toivonen and Loren Chasse. The artists shared environmental recordings from Coyote Wall, Washington and Pori, Finland to create music for an implied landscape that is located neither here nor there. Toivonen and Chasse began working together in 2021 after Toivonen reissued Chasse`s seminal field-recording based album “Synthesis Of Neglected Places” on his label Akti. Working on the reissue, the artists noticed that they shared a similar interest towards the microscopic details of sound and that they both actively listened and immersed themselved in the everyday sonic experience of their surroundings. One thing soon led to another and they realized that they had created a new 30-minute piece, Aclod. Hive Mind are excited to present this deeply immersive work which seemlessly blurs environmental and natural sound from the two outdoor recording locations with ephemeral whispers of melody recorded on melodeon, metalophone, gong, guitar, Juno synth, water bowls and pebbles. * * * * Loren Chasse is based in Portland, Oregon and has a long history in the underground and experimental music scene having been a a key figure in the Jewelled Antler Collective. Central to his practice is an interest in listening in the moment and a deep and reverential attention to the sound-worlds of our immediate surroundings. Juho Toivonen is from Pori, Finland and currently runs the Akti Label as well as performing in Free Tala and improvisational collective, Vahvistusharha. His recent solo releases on Ikuisuus and C/Site have been garnering some well-deserved attention over the past couple of years.

Romance & Dean Hurley smudge the collective timeline on a second collaborative album of youtube-sampling ambient fantasies, landing somewhere on the dial between meditation tape, social commentary and regression therapy. Stunning melodramatic wooze from the Lynchian paradigm - essential listening if yr into anything from The Caretaker to Julee Cruise. Continuing their prismatic dissection of daytime soap operas, David Lynch’s chief sound designer Dean Hurley and Celine Dion-worshipping enigma Romance slide into the darkest recesses of fantasy-based escapism on an immersive followup to last year’s ‘In Every Dream Home A Heartache’. While that album spotlighted the omnipresence of daytime tv re-runs and pervasive, endlessly-looped broadcasts, ‘River of Dreams’ examines the interior, mental imbalance sewn by obsessive fandom. As the pair explain, “…the same waters that harvest and transport buoyant dreams, often funnel into nightmarish, tumultuous oceans…” Just as Twin Peaks eyeballed the grotesque energy bubbling beneath the surface of suburban America, ‘River of Dreams’ looks at the same phenomenon using the passing of time as a magnifying component. Lynch's original series was tangled in 1980s and '90s soap themes that have almost lost their relevance four decades later, and so the album’s sanded-down pads, gooey, hyper-emotional loops and detached vocal snippets satirise the past just as much as they idolise it. 'My Heart Beats In Dreams' is an apt example, steering the mood into a bleak windswept landscape scored by tempestuous whistling. In the background, the faintest outline of a beat - memories of a (wavey black & white) dancefloor refracted thru our shared cultural dreamscape. Heavy machinery (a logging saw?) whirrs into the frame, a Hollywood-ready low-end rumbles beneath. Stop - we're back in the 1960s again, rousing from an underwater hallucination, tumbling through multiple timelines in a constant emotional flux. On the closing track 'Wake Up’, the pair use their faded loops to rotate us into the void for one last dance. A child calls out "it's time," and an eerily familiar VHS buzz serenades us into silence.

Brazilian experimental multi-instrumentalist Carla Boregas follows plates for Bokeh Versions and Hive Mind with a ghostly set of deep listening electronics that plays like a symphony for an imagined woodwind orchestra, one to file next to recent work by Wojciech Rusin, Debit and Bloedneus & de Snuitkever. Carla Boregas is best known from her tenure in São Paulo's genre-bending experimental post-punk scene, playing in long-running outfit Rakta as well as other related offshoots. Her solo material has been knottier to unpick, here developing ideas from a collection of unfinished fragments and notebook scribbles exploring the possibility of finding a wind instrument that could be played collectively by several musicians. Coinciding with the pandemic, however, she soon realised the inherent risks involved with sharing breath and so the concept took a different direction, with added resonance. Boregas developed a synthetic alternative, layering vocals and environmental recordings to suggest wind instrumentation without attempting to mimic it. The sounds here are airy, but rarely diegetic - on the title track, Boregas uses analog arpeggios and plucked, sustained tones to approximate the kosmische world of Ash Ra Tempel or more recently Emeralds, as if trapped in a wind tunnel, moved forward by an unseen force. There's a whisper of the ancient past that harmonises with Wojciech Rusin's speculative medieval gasps, and Bloedneus & de Snuitkever's severely underheard ‘Milli Mille’, an examination of the ancient Greek aulos. On ’Grafia Do Invisível' the sound is completely different again, but the concept remains, using precise analog drones and minuscule timbral shifts to imitate the character of a wind instrument and simultaneously harmonise with the deep listening meditations of Éliane Radigue and Kali Malone. A voice enters the frame on 'Sopro’, chopped into deviated gulps and syllables, creating a language that's unfamiliar and percussive. The use of breath is subtle, and vocalisations criss-cross between synths and faint whistles, forming an expression that's different from its predecessors but intrinsically interlinked. This is where ‘Pena Ao Mar’ excels, by viewing breath and its application in electronic music from multiple angles simultaneously. Fans of Lucy Duncombe, Lucrecia Dalt, or Sarah Davachi - don't miss this one.

Duval Timothy’s piano music grows in stature and sprawling ideas with this mix of odes to Mahler and electro-acoustic/concrète evocations of the landscapes to England, Italy, and West Africa, featuring guest input by Fauzia, Yu Su, Vegyn and Lamin Fofana ‘Meeting With a Judas Tree’ is Timothy’s first solo album since 2020 and a significant way marker on his path thus far, which has snaked from Freeport, Sierra Leone, to London, UK. Recorded 2019-22, it expands on ideas from his early pursuit of brooding avant-jazz on 2016’s introductory ‘Brown Loop’ LP, and the more angular experiments of his first sides on personal imprint Carrying Colour, to a vivid blend of inspirations and a broader emotive palette put to canvas with raw finesse. Capturing his feelings in his South London home studio, plus the Carrying Colour studio in Freetown, the Old Police Statin in Rotherhithe, and Casa Mahler in Spolete, Umbria, the recordings share a immediate vivacity and emphasis on texture that serve to heighten the emotive grip of his work. ‘Plunge’ is a case in point, makign use of an auld upright in Freetown whose palettes had lost their felt due to humidity, and lending the piece a quality of Lonnie Holley’s blues, while the smeared electronics and electric guitar licks amplify the aching cadence, and also in ‘Mutate’ whose cascading discord recalls the uneasy dreampop of A.R. Kane. But a big attraction in the record lies with Timothy’s feel for balancing raw and lofty ideas, as with the mix of warbling effects applied to stately Mahler-esque figures and field recording made with his mum in the hills outside Bath on ‘Up’, and his ability to to seamlessly bring others not the vibe, as on the utopian promise of ‘Wood’ featuring piano and synth by Yu Su, and Vegyn co-production, or the subtle disturbances of Fauzia in ‘Thunder’ that edge the piece close to Klein’s most enigmatic. The final sequence ‘Drift’ with Lamin Fofana is an ideal curtain closer, brimming with an brooding but unresolved quality that recalls his Mahler inspiration via The Caretaker and a sea of natural world inspiration that gives it a beautifully in-between worlds headiness.

A Colourful Storm presents Enteha, the latest piece by Elodie, the longstanding duo of Andrew Chalk and Timo van Luijk. Chalk and van Luijk embody a bold, free-spirited approach to music making whose improvisational processes can be traced to a distinct period of Europe's post-industrial landscape: the former’s Ferial Confine project finding a home on Broken Flag (Ramleh, Kleistwahr) while the latter co-founded Noise-Maker’s Fifes, a Belgian audiovisual project employing unusual homemade instruments. More than two decades of ambitious solo and collaborative work would solidify both Chalk and van Luijk as masterful craftsmen exploring (and exposing) the tension between composition and free play. Their individual lists of collaborators boasts a certain fin-de-siècle faction of the avant-garde: Christoph Heemann, Giancarlo Toniutti, David Jackman and Colin Potter, to name but a few, have recorded with Chalk while van Luijk has also welcomed Heemann as well as a guard of other artists including Raymond Dijkstra, Kris Vanderstraeten and Frederik Croene. Elodie’s first documented recording, 2011’s Echos Pastoraux, betrayed a musical interplay of extremely accomplished standards, Chalk and van Luijk’s pastoral mise-en-scène daubed with Daisuke Suzuki’s Asiatic elements creating a sound world at once mystical and eerie. A figment of two imaginations, Elodie materialised almost fully formed with each subsequent recording patiently revealing glimpses into a world concerned with time dilation, the phantasmagoric and spirits of the everyday. Enteha is one of the duo’s more subdued and melancholic pieces and can be seen as a human response to seasonal transition, foretold by the concluding passages of 2020’s Le Nid d'Ivoire. It’s one of their uniquely longform explorations of mood and atmosphere as an air of romance drifts deftly into mystery and despair. The delicate hues of autumnal haze. The deceptive optimism of morning light. A work of supremely understated beauty, Enteha develops at an hypnagogic, if not unconscious, level and will appeal to anyone who finds solace in Harmonia, Gas, Joanna Brouk, Roberto Musci, Zoviet France and other investigators of pastoral arcana.

We've been very lucky to release the debut releases of the fantastic duo Mundos Sutis. They became an instant favourite of many people with their unique music style, that immersive deep techno etiquette that they craft really well. "Quintessence" is the album that gathers our favourite works released on the label in the past months. The journey is about to start, just press play and fly away.

Download card includes bonus track "Revelation."

Cindy Lee is the brainchild of singer / guitarist Patrick Flegel. While some may know Flegel from their time spent in Canadian experimental indie band Women, Cindy Lee has spent the past four years crafting songs that push and pull in opposing directions – from tales of tragedy laced with haywire distortion to moments of breathtaking beauty.

On Malenkost, Flegel combines everything that makes Cindy Lee so essential: heart-wrenching romantic pleas, rough shards of noise and twilit ballads. Featuring the lo-fi pop single "A Message From The Aching Sky," Malenkost sounds like Deerhunter playing The Supremes or vice versa.

Superior Viaduct's imprint W.25TH presents the first of many Cindy Lee releases. Spectral and timeless, the music of Cindy Lee is hauntingly familiar yet of another plane, a magical collision of Brill Building hooks and uncompromising No Wave.

Dominique Lawalrée (b. 1954) is a composer born and based in Brussels. First Meeting is Lawalrée's first archival release to date. Culled from four different albums originally self-published on his private label Editions Walrus, circa 1978-1982, this compilation highlights the composer's unique sense of ambient and minimal composition. Originally considered for release on Brian Eno's Obscure Records, Lawalrée's music is now no longer hidden. 

In this collection the listener finds the sounds of piano, synthesizers, percussion, wurlitzer, organ, and voice, all performed by Lawalrée. Using these tools Dominique creates miniature themes that gallop across the speakers in slow motion, stretching our normal sense of dynamics and color, effortlessly widening the stereo plane. On “Musique Satieerique,” Dominique pays homage to the influence of Satie with simple repeated piano figures and a lush field of organs and flutes. And on other selections, like “Le Maison Des 5 Elements,” he takes a more wistful, ambient approach, layering keyboard lines, and invoking found/tape sounds to create a hypnogogic world of his own. Childlike in its playfulness and surreal to the bone, the music spins like a carrousel placed inside the Rothko Chapel. Lawalrée’s sense of timbre, tone, and overarching composition is like an impression of a home movie whose charm lies in its knowledge of intimacy, shared by few. An incantation of innocence. 

"a quiet, understated music that is both touching and elegant" - Gavin Bryars 

The Manchester based artist Craig Tattersall returns to the label with 2 longform compositions centered around piano. The compositions were generated by birds which were captured by a contact mic attached to his garden bird feeder. These initial recordings were partly included in the final recordings adding an organic and intimate touch to the music. Hence, the album presents itself as a more outside experience and complements the Autumn season quite well.