Ambient / Minimal / Drone
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Otto A. Totland and Erik Skodvin turn the contrast down even further on their fourth album, journeying through nuanced shades with electroacoustic atmospheres that dilate time. RIYL Angelo Badalamenti, Laurel Halo, Biosphere, Richard Skelton. With each subsequent album, Deaf Center have chipped away at some of their signature sound's decorative elements, getting closer to the emotional and stylistic core each time. Since the beginning, they've been inspired by low-lit, noir-esque atmospheres, but where their earliest material hinged around distinct, memorable themes, usually played by Totland on piano, they've evolved to emphasise the mood itself. Indeed, Totland's playing is more languid and measured than ever here, creating a tidal ebb that laps against Skodvin's measured strings and subtle synth tones rather than a fulcrum for each track to pivot around. The two part title track is maybe the best example of their arc; the first part is remarkably gauzy, with each instrument used as ambiance. Pianos shimmer into darkness and oscillators whirr and feed back in the distance as if they're being pulled away by a malfunctioning tape echo. By the long second part, though, we've been transported back to the 'Pale Ravine' era - the moody electroacoustic textures are all but gone and Skodvin has traded his synths for cello, playing in short, sharp strokes against Totland's assertive notes. But even this is fleeting, before the track has finished, its instrumentation is drowned by dissonance and distortion that prepares the palate for 'I Myst', a glitchy, cinematic highlight that'll appeal to fans of Ryuichi Sakamoto's collaborations with Alva Noto. Stick around and you'll hear the duo's first track with a guest musician, too. On 'Further', they invite Berlin-based British composer and producer Simon Goff, who's worked with Hildur Guðnadóttir and Jóhann Jóhansson, among others, to play violin and viola over their frozen soundscapes.
Otto A Totland's modern compositional elements are most widely recognized as half of the Norwegian duo Deaf Center, where his melancholic, intricate piano work provides haunting relief to the beds of noise and deep strings from Erik K Skodvin. Pinô is the first full-length release by Totland, though his solo work has been released once, as the 5-minute A-side of Sonic Pieces 7inch Harmony From the Past. Otto's previously brief vignettes are now expanded into a fully personal realization of his own style. Initial track Open fills itself with heavy, knowing pauses that quickly become overwhelmed with the desire to understand what's to come. Each silence leads into quick flutters of keys, preparing the listener for a vast terrain of giddy beauty, bleak depths, and true contentedness. Pinô quickly recalls deep winter; in front of a fireplace for days on end, you lose how far along you've ventured into the 18 tracks without any idea how far is left to go. The experience feels inevitable, with no other option but to curl up somewhere cozy and appreciate the sense of timelessness that Totland has created. His album is a haunting modern compositional treasure, expressed through instrumentals completely unique to Totland and captured masterfully by Nils Frahm at Durton Studios. With Pinô, Otto A Totland appears out of the Norwegian landscape, sharing an achievement that will provide a relief during the brooding winter darkness. Though a highly personal endeavor, the recognizable continuation of Totland’s compositions will attract fans of Deaf Center, and the cinematic and classical components of his solo work will hold sway for those familiar with Harold Budd or Dustin O’Halloran.
Inventor of the “infinite guitar,” Canadian musician Michael Brook’s 1992 4AD record Cobalt Blue is a timeless and quietly stunning collection of instrumental pieces and shimmering dreamscapes, featuring contributions from ambient music pioneer Brian Eno, composer & multi-instrumentalist Roger Eno, and Grammy-winning producer Daniel Lanois.
Recorded later that year, Live at the Aquarium captures Brook’s rare solo performance in London, highlighting the hypnotic sustain and atmosphere that define his work. Beyond his albums, Brook has scored acclaimed films including Into the Wild, Brooklyn, and An Inconvenient Truth.
Newly remastered by Rashad Becker and presented as a 2XCD and crystal clear 2LP with artwork by Alison Fielding based on the original v23 designs, this set marks the first vinyl reissue of Cobalt Blue and the vinyl debut of Live at the Aquarium — a long-overdue celebration of an underrated gem in the 4AD catalogue.
Brook is known as a pioneer in the ambient music movement and a highly sought-after producer, especially in the arena of world music, for Peter Gabriel’s Real World Records. He has worked with a vast range of important artists, including Cheb Khaled, U. Srinivas, Mary Margaret O’Hara, and the Pogues, and toured with David Sylvian and Robert Fripp and with John Cale.
Brook was nominated for a Grammy Award in 1996 for his album with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Night Song, and for a Golden Globe in 2008 for the Into the Wild soundtrack. El Infierno won the 2011 Havana Film Festival award for best music. In 2024, Nusrat’s album Chain of Light, produced by Brook, was The Guardian’s World Music album of the year.
Happy Today, the third album from guitarist/bandleader Jeff Parker’s long-running ETA IVtet, was recorded live at Lodge Room in Los Angeles on August 20, 2025. This fresh entry into the IVtet’s catalog captures Parker and the band – including drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, and saxophonist Josh Johnson – on record outside of the now-shuttered Highland Park micro-club ETA for the first time.
The performance also captures a distinctly joyful night of togetherness set against the backdrop of dark times. “2025 was a very difficult year for me and my family,” Parker says. “Dealing with being displaced from the Eaton fires for eight months, and the kind of toll that that instability took on my family’s mental health and general outlook, coupled with Donald Trump being back in office and basically making life miserable for everyone… There was a lot of sadness and despair. But feeling the sense of community that we created with our concert, and later hearing the recording, seeing the beautiful footage that had been shot and the photographs of such joy to be back in that space and to be making music again: It was a very happy moment. So I called the record Happy Today. It’s meant to be a statement of joy.”
That joy and camaraderie found in communal space seems to be a major catalyst for the ETA IVtet’s music. The band’s audience is, somehow, an essential part of the formula. Case in point: the show at Lodge Room was actually meant to be the cherry on top of a weekend of studio sessions by the band. Those sessions were intended to be the next album released by the group, its first ever studio record. Upon listening back, though, it was clear to Parker that the Lodge Room performance was the recording that shined brightest and felt most true to the band’s spirit, harkening back to the weekly session the four musicians held at ETA for so many years.
ETA was undoubtedly more than just the namesake of the band. Part laboratory, part low-stakes proving ground, it’s where the language of the IVtet’s sound percolated and coalesced over the course of an almost mythical seven-year-long Monday night residency that yielded two critically-acclaimed records—2022’s Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy and 2024’s The Way Out of Easy—and an instantly recognizable group sound.
Happy Today is that sound—the IVtet's signature syntax built around long-form, minimalist improvisation—expanding confidently into a larger space while creating the same hypnotizing, deeply-tuned listening effect on visibly enraptured audiences. The album contains two sidelong pieces recorded as the band performed in the round at Lodge Room, surrounded by an audience of 400 or so deep listeners. (The venue, appropriately enough, sits on the same street and just a few hundred feet away from the storefront that used to be ETA.)
The drastic change in venue size, and this document in general, is representative of an expanding demand to experience this band live that has been surging for years, starting with the release of their debut album Mondays. For the subsequent, final year that ETA was open, there would typically be a line down the block on Monday evenings, with far more people trying to catch the show than the club could hold. Even if you could get inside the building, given the limited capacity, the IVtet was a difficult band to actually see play. Couple that with the fact that before the closure of the club in December 2023, the IVtet had never played outside of Los Angeles. Access to the live experience had been extremely limited, and that has seemed to feed a sense of mystery and allure around the band’s music for the many fans of Mondays and The Way Out of Easy.
On paper, the IVtet’s growing audience is something of a conundrum. After all, minimal longform improvisation is likely the precise antithesis of streaming-centered content culture. Despite that, at the show that produced Happy Today, as with any IVtet show, the audience willingly settles into and accepts the band’s pace as they iron out a story which digs deeply into every facet of an idea before investigating a new one. Here the attention economy feels lightyears away, the crowd instead surrendering to that old and very human penchant for listening. With open ears, the crowd stands ready for a big yarn, a long tale, and from the jump there seems to be a trust between performer and audience that mimics the trust between the musicians as they move from detail to detail.
“The band isn't afraid to explore static spaces,” says Parker. “It seems like the thing is to stay on one idea for a while. Really, for a long time. To kind of exhaust it. And then one person shifts and then the thing moves together.”
“Everybody is constantly dropping crumbs and you can take them or you can leave them,” agrees Bellerose. “There are these little hints, these little moments, and everybody's aware of them.”
“When it is time to change, it can change very quickly,” says Butterss. “If someone suggests a new idea, it can flip in an instant. Everyone's constantly ready to go with it if the moment calls for it.”
“Like Swimwear,” the side-length opener of Happy Today, contains a quintessential example of this distinct IVtet move. The track gets off the ground slowly but deliberately, ramping up tension over the course of its first ten minutes without a moment of harmonic dissonance. The band, rather, steadily pulls at the corners of the rhythm. Here each member steps forward and backward in the sonic space to build a gleefully disorienting group cadence, where the repetitions of the individual overlap in such a trancelike way that even soloistic breaks from Parker’s electric guitar or Johnson’s effected alto sax never manage to snap the tension wire. Bellerose works deep into the rhythmic fascia, employing all manner of auxiliary percussion—strewn across his kit, tucked into his shoe, or wrapped around his legs—all without a hint of novelty. Every micro-choice comes from a place of both curiosity and confidence.
And then the shift: just as the thing is about to come unglued Bellerose opts into a smooth, low-register downbeat groove that Butterss has been auditioning for the previous minute or so. Parker swiftly kicks into an organ-like drone while Johnson and Butterss stay the course. It’s a series of decisions that could go any number of ways depending on the night, like running water pushing into fresh geography, moving from tributary to mainstream, past the levee and into the floodplain. There is no set path; if it went a different direction it would still be the cumulative result of the same water flowing.
That is to say that there are no hard and fast rules to what the IVtet does. Defining the music, in fact, is something that the band takes special care not to do. Living in that mystery, it seems, helps to keep the path open, cleared to push into new and satisfying territory.
“For me, the thing to protect is just where it started from, which was freedom and openness,” says Bellerose. “In the early days of the band Jeff was recognizing how we were all communicating within the structure of playing standards. He's one of the greatest producers I've ever worked with because he has this vision. And a big part of producing is casting—putting the right people in the room. So these shifts, they're completely natural within these improvised pieces that we do because the foundation was there and Jeff knew it. He had already noticed the communication within the band, but wanted to really push it further.”
The key to Parker’s push lies in the generosity to step back, to allow each member an equal voice, and to de-center himself. What we hear on Happy Today is an egalitarian group sound by design, curious and intuitive.
“Everybody's listening in a way where it's not always like ‘I'm going to go with you’,” says Johnson. “But it's always ‘I hear you’. And sometimes it's ‘I hear you and I'm going to stay here and allow the tension of these two things to exist for a while before maybe joining you.’ But the thing that's cool is that everybody’s hearing it. Because of the time that we've spent together there’s a maturity to the listening—a very special version of deep listening.”
“The number of times that we've talked about the music is so few compared to the years and years of playing,” Johnson continues. “I think that's one of the really beautiful things about the band—how organically the way that we play together has come about and evolved over time. Definitely on brand for the music that the band makes too. Slowly evolving, long form development.”
“I learned how to improvise in this band,” reveals Butterss, astonishingly. “I didn't really play improvised music before. So my whole approach to improvisation has been shaped by playing with Jeff, Jay, and Josh. It is a band and it has its own language. I think you could drop the needle on any of the recordings and people would be able to say ‘that's the quartet.’ It's very distinctive and it's developed very organically. We have never talked about it, I don't think.”
“That's our band,” says Parker of “Like Swimwear,” almost with an outsider’s sense of fascination at the recording. He seems to feel the same enchantment and surprise that the audience does while listening, despite being a primary part of the process. “That's it. I mean, that's what the ETA Quartet does.”
It’s a blessing for this band to be so expertly documented in its naturally public, live context. The two sidelong improvisations from Lodge Room that make up Happy Today, as with the recordings that made up the IVtet’s first two albums, are beautifully rendered by engineer Bryce Gonzales—recorded and mixed live, direct to a Nagra tape machine utilizing a compact outboard rig that he built himself, specifically to record this band. Much like the thumbprint originality coming from the players themselves, Gonzales’ capture of the music is its own signature, his mixes a form of sound improvisation themselves.
A major addition to this particular presentation is the full album length film by Charlie Weinmann, documenting the band's performance of Happy Today at Lodge Room, which will be released in tandem with the album. A shadow-laden, almost noirlike capture of the band in its full sprawling glory, Weinmann’s camera makes the joyful reality of seeing the IVtet at work widely accessible for the first time.
With Happy Today the reach of Parker’s IVtet extends further than ever before, but the essential formula, if there is one, remains the same. The anchor seems to be in variations on an almost alchemical communication—a feeling of connection between band members, sure, but also between the band and the audience. It’s an ongoing trust exercise, born organically in the corner of a small room in Los Angeles and flowing outward at exactly its own natural pace. It’s social music with a clear ability to move those willing to listen. Happy Today is an invitation to become part of the exchange and experience the joy of deep listening.
At the age of 72, "Evil" Graham Lee, the legendary pedal steel pioneer and veteran of the iconic Australian band The Triffids, delivers his first ever album under his own name titled ‘I Think I’m Alone Now’. In addition to his work with The Triffids, Graham’s place in ambient history was cemented in 1990 when his evocative pedal steel became the soulful centerpiece of The KLF’s masterpiece, Chill Out (specifically on the highlight “Baltimore to Fair Play”).I Think I’m Alone Now is a profound exploration of the instrument's emotional range, blending traditional country infused melodies with vast, reverb drenched ambient textures. The album spans six tracks, anchored by the Side B title track, a 15 minute textural piece that leans heavily into the ambient genre. From the delicate melancholy of "Seeking Beauty in Sadness" to the curious abstraction of "Nursery in the Beehive," Lee uses his pedal steel and an array of pedals to sculpt unique, haunting soundscapes that exist between tradition and the avant garde.The connection is brought full circle with exclusive liner notes written by The KLF’s Bill Drummond. Reflecting on a forty year friendship that began when The Triffids served as the backing band for Drummond’s solo debut, The Man, Drummond provides a personal and poignant context for this long awaited solo bow.A 180g pressing housed in a full sleeve designed by Bradley Pinkerton with metallic sticker and bespoke inner sleeve featuring liner notes signed by Bill Drummond.
Music for movies by Václav Kadrnka "Absence of the loved one is a theme running through both films, but during the creative process we never discuss with the Havels the themes, symptoms or attributes of the characters. We do not specify any meanings. Our collaboration is intuitive, based on interconnectedness. We neither explain things to each other nor analyse. From the outset we have a common goal: to quieten the viewers’ perception, to attune them to certain vibrations by visual, musical and acoustic repetitions, thus enabling them to focus on every tiny detail, every subtle aesthetic quality, so that by the end of the film they have a sense of reconciliation. In fact it is a state similar to meditation or prayer. The aim is being shown Mercy. Each time, the linking of the filmed images with Irena and Vojtech’s music has uncovered a new quality that we have named: a commentary on eternity. Characters cease to be determined by their senses, psychological motivations, or the times they live in. They find liberation in the stream of eternal time." /Václav Kadrnka "We would like to thank all our friends, sound engineers and musicians. The main thanks goes to director Václav Kadrnka, his family and all his collaborators for the precious opportunity to assist them in creating both films. We have worked on our music for the film Saving One Who Was Dead for three years. We met with Václav, discussed the screenplay while it was being born and many other things. We have gradually prepared several working versions that included compositions for piano, Indonesian gamelan, gongs, Tibetan bowls, bells and mini-bells. Yet, step by step, we made it simpler and simpler and eventually only kept violas da gamba, organ and chanting. Everything else was redundant. We made most of the recordings of the compositions for viola da gamba in a church in Prague. The composition for organ was recorded in Milan where we performed a concert shortly before the pandemic arrived in December 2019. We tried to record it in various churches in Bohemia but it was not until the church in Milan that we found the best sounding organ. As for Little Crusader, we recorded the music for the film after it was completed. We had several versions and used the piano version for this album. Together with Václav, we searched for instruments that would work the best for this Medieval story. Eventually, we opted for harmonium with simple chanting which accompanies the character little boy Jenik. Violas da gamba intertwine, move close and then apart from each other the same way as paths of little boy Jenik and his father who is searching for him. Simple chanting and Tibetan bowl accompany scenes with little boy Jenik’s mother who awaits them at home. Trombone and saxophone are like metal swords and the knights’ armor. Violoncello and viola da gamba walk in the rhythm of horse’s hooves, in the rhythm of heartbeat of both the horse and his rider – a father searching for his lost son." / Irena and Vojtěch Havlovi
src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=2063437934/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless=""><a href="https://havlovi.bandcamp.com/album/saving-one-who-was-dead-little-crusader">Saving One Who Was Dead / Little Crusader The Havels / Irena & Vojtech Havlovi</a>
It began somewhere between sleep and memory. After first meeting in dreams, in Brussels and Berlin, on landscapes that felt strangely close to Vilnius, Marija Rasa aka emer and Ugnė Uma leisurely rewrote those visions into songs. What followed became a collection of moments suspended in idle summers, familiar faces, gentle motions, skin touched by golden sun. These songs wander through closeness and distance, tracing the delicate emotional shifts between us, who almost understand each other completely. ‘you and me’ lives in the space where magical realism meets everyday intimacy: honey-colored evenings, recurring thoughts, and the slow surrender to things unfolding on their own.
NYC’s Urner chimes with Dutch label topo2’s tastes for shimmering electronic melody and subtly crooked structures on a quietly charming LP made from Japanese lava, modular synths and software: tipped to fans of Irdial’s Anthony Manning, Georgia’s Brian Close, Visible Cloaks. In the wake of a self-issued 2020 debut and tape on Atlantic Rhythms, ’Afterimages’ is Isaac Pearl aka Urner’s 3rd album and the first to fix his ephemeral tactility to vinyl. Under a name and title hinting (to us at least) a play on psychedelic or oneiric experience, the music follows with an often fleeting, tongue-tip sensuality that patently fits topo2’s emerging remit, as heard in their sides by Upsammy, Mor Elian, Windu. It’s not hard to trace lines from ‘80s Japanese environmental ambient to ‘90s electronica and modernist reflections on new age, partly thanks to its combo of clinking, rhythmelodic Sanukite lithopone tones - think a xylophone made from rare volcanic rock - with analog and digital synth sources, applied with a mix of care and nuanced daring that feels timeless yet also up-to-date in its oloid asymmetry. A whispering opener ‘Options, Thoughts’ unfolds into hyaline dimensions, where the rest settles, offbeat, at meditative pace, between plucked melodic chin reactions of ‘Stranding’, dreamy aeolian harmonics of ‘Anni,’ and air-kissing romance of ‘Lover Cusp.’ The Visible Cloaks comparison is apt on a standout ’Suspend’ and the cascading notes of ‘Tides,’ to a quietly fizzing conclusion.
Hardback cover. 250 pages, richly illustrated. Aphex Twin: A Disco Pogo Tribute compiles interviews, essays and features from various music journalists, all exploring Richard D. James' decades-long career. Like Daft Punk, the people behind Disco Pogo have had a long-standing relationship with Richard D. James for over 30 years via their 90s magazine Jockey Slut. The book is edited by Disco Pogo editor Jim Butler and features interviews, essays and features from the best music journalists working today. The book features Images from across James' career, and an iconic cover portrait of Aphex by seminal photographer Wolfgang Tillmans, plus a huge amount of great photography of Richard since the very beginning from some of the best music photographers in the world.
Thanks also to the designer of Aphex's logo Paul Nicholson who has opened up his archives to us and also the assistance and support from the label homes of Aphex - Warp, R&S and Rephlex. Thanks also to the people behind Aphex fan website Lanner Chronicle. The book is hardback, 250 plus pages and is beautifully designed and printed of course.
In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room. Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement. The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth. At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede. Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own." Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.
'28’ is the work of two Japanese artists both now resident in France and both aged 28 - hence the title. This album is the result of over 3 years worth of collaboration between the pair, coming together to form a beautiful marriage of sweet female vocals, alongside pristine, lusciously textured and layered electronics, and some clever yet funky beat programming. ‘28’ has the feeling of a classic electronica album. The sonic precision, clarity, and detailing of each element has been lovingly worked on; everything fits and flows together as the album unfolds with an organic, slowly unfurling logic. Often built up in overlapping layers, Noriko’s voice is beautifully recorded and placed within the mix. Although largely sung in Japanese, her vocals add a warmth and solidity to the album – like a series of breathy vapour trails or lullaby coos and hums, which are occasionally chopped into and stuttered via computer, yet never jarringly so. Added alongside the gentle loops and textures of the music, the album is consequently held between a kind of swaying, fluid drift where the various layers gently slide across one another, and the sudden elastic snap of the beat.
Aoki and Tujiko’s collaboration began in 2002 when they were both booked the same event for The Cartier Foundation in Paris, got talking and began working together on the track ‘Fly’ for the first time. As they worked, it quickly dawned that they both really liked what they were doing and so decided to extend the project to an album-length collaboration. Yet following that show, the pair found little time to work together because Aoki was at the time living in Osaka whilst Tujiko was in Paris. As a way around this problem, they began sending their audio files to each other as CDRs, working separately on ideas and then slowly building their tracks bit by bit. Consequently, it took a long time to finish this album, although the process sped up when Aoki also moved to Paris just under a year ago.
Whilst this album marks the first time the pair have worked together on a recording, AOKI has previously released four albums on the Japanese-based Progressive Form label and one on Cirque. Somewhat better known to European audiences, Noriko has released albums on Mego, Sub Rosa, Tomlab, all of which have received glowing and considerable coverage.
Meitei’s 2020 album 'Kofū' was the bold bookend to an expedition, where sounds were first navigated and then subverted in 2018’s 'Kwaidan' and 2019’s 'Komachi'.
All three albums were Meitei’s attempt at immersive storytelling, reimagining moments of Japanese history he felt were being washed away – not least by the unforgiving sands of time – through wistful compositions that stretched across ambient music, hauntology, and musique concrete.
When it came to finalizing 'Kofū', Meitei found he was left with over 60 fully realized tracks, bursting with ideas that fired in divergent, curious directions. Meitei was content with the 13 tracks he had selected. But when it came time to begin his next album, he found that it had been sitting in front of him all along. He realized his work wasn’t over yet.
Meitei sounds right at home celebrating the past he first reimagined in his previous work. The merriment is palpable in its first two tracks of 'Kofū II' – a loop of cheery whistling amidst the clanking of wood leads into strings, cricket sounds and flutes, all united in bustling harmony.
'Happyaku-yachō' is where it comes into focus. Pitch-shifted vocal samples roam around in the crowded sonic field. “My image of this music is that it expresses the vibrant mood of Edo's merchant culture,” says Meitei, “where old Japanese dwellings were densely packed together in a vast expanse of land.” The affair becomes bittersweet as the track leads into the desolate 'Kaworu', a compositional piece lifted from his 'Komachi' sessions – a final requiem to his late grandmother.
The album is bursting with spectral vignettes of wandering samurais, red lanterns, ninjas, puppet theatres, poets, even a vengeful assassin ('Shurayuki hime', known to Western audiences as ‘Lady Snowblood’).
'Saryō' is as elegant and refined as you would expect. It induces stillness in its repetition, with each synth note a brushstroke. It was inspired by a Sengoku-era tea house he once visited, designed by national icon Sen no Rikyū. Meitei tied it to the reaction he felt while poring over the ink paintings in his grandmother’s house. “The decayed earthen walls and faded tatami mats gave me an emotional impression,” he says. “And the cosmic flow of time drifting in the small room. I decided to put my impression of this into music.”
In 'Akira Kurosawa', an appropriately thunderous track, Meitei finds deep resonance in his vast filmography, which drew equally from Japan’s rich heritage and troubled circumstances post-WWII.
'Kofū II' is not a leftovers album, nor is it a straightforward companion piece. In this album, Meitei has his biggest reckoning with the Japanese identity yet. Over the years, he has attempted to peel back what he believes has defined Japan and its people. After seeking answers with three full-length albums, his fourth poses more questions.
If his first three albums inspired a sense of longing – or, perhaps inevitably, fed an irreparable nostalgia doomed to history – 'Kofū II' compels us to reassess our relationship with the past. By constantly looking back, are we ever afforded a clearer present? After capturing the “lost Japanese mood”, where does that leave its country in the modern world? Meitei offers no immediate answers with 'Kofū II'. It forces you to sit with its disparate moods, to meditate amidst the textured fragments.
'Kofū II' will be released on 180g LP, CD and digital format on December 10, 2021 (LP expected to land January 28, 2022) via KITCHEN. LABEL. Both LP and CD format are presented in a debossed sleeve with obi strip and include a 16-page insert with words in Japanese and English from Meitei, printed on premium paper stock with design by KITCHEN. LABEL founder Ricks Ang, and is mastered by Chihei Hatakeyama in Tokyo, Japan.
In the final month of 2024, Meitei arrived in Beppu, a city long steeped in vapor, myth, and mineral memory. Invited to create onsen ambient music commemorating Beppu’s 100th anniversary, he immersed himself in the city’s geothermal psychogeography, where sound rises from the ground and time clings to mist.
Known for his Lost Japan (Shitsu-nihon) works, which channel forgotten eras into flickering auditory relics, Meitei took residence in the warehouse of Yamada Bessou, a century-old inn perched by the bay. Over two weeks, he listened intently to steam, to stone, to the atmosphere itself. The resulting work, Sen’nyū, traces the inner spirit of onsen culture. Like water finding its path, the music emerged with quiet inevitability, shaped by Meitei’s synesthetic sensibility and deep attunement to place.
Equipped with a microphone, he wandered Beppu’s sacred sites: Takegawara Onsen, Bouzu Jigoku, Hebin-yu, and the private baths of Yamada Bessou. There, he captured the breath of the springs, bubbling mud, hissing vents, wind against bamboo, and the murmurs of daily visitors. These field recordings became the sonic bedrock of Sen’nyū, an act of deep listening that attempts to render even the rising mist and shifting heat into sound.
Unfolding as a single, continuous piece, Sen’nyū drifts like fog through sulfur and stone. It traverses the veiled madness of Bouzu Jigoku, the spectral resonance of Yamada Bessou’s inner bath, and the hushed voices of Takegawara Onsen. It is a gesture of quiet reverence, for water’s patience, the land’s memory, and the hands that have bathed here for generations.
Where Meitei’s earlier works conveyed his personal impression of a fading Japan, Sen’nyū is grounded in tactile presence, music not imagined but encountered. Here, his practice moves closer to the spirit of kankyō ongaku, environmental music born from place, shaped by it, and inseparable from it.
As part of the project, Meitei conceived a two-day public sound installation inside Takegawara Onsen, culminating in a live performance. Bathers soaked in mineral-rich waters while submerged in sound, an embodied ritual of place, body, and listening.
Sen’nyū marks Meitei’s first full-length work centered entirely on onsen and opens a new chapter of his Lost Japan project under the expanded title 失日本百景 (One Hundred Lost Views of Japan), a series exploring extant sites of longing still quietly breathing within contemporary life. The album will be accompanied by Meitei’s first photo book, a visual document of his time in Beppu. A new layer is added to the world he has, until now, built only through sound.
Sen’nyū continues Meitei’s devotion to Japan as subject, while opening new terrain: both ritual and remembrance, an immersion into the mineral soul of Beppu.
Originally released in 2008 on Ezekiel Honig’s own Anticipate Recordings, Surfaces of a Broken Marching Band finds the artist refining a compositional language rooted in the methodologies of musique concrete, ambient, and beat research. Working from a palette of environmental recordings, instrumental fragments, and soft electronic treatments, Honig pushes the source material into an array of sympathetic forms ranging from pillow-soft, lowercase ambient to diffuse downtempo and minimal house. For its reissue on Keplar, the album has been remastered by Kassian Troyer (D&M), bringing a new clarity to its intricate, low-lit architectures. Throughout the record, serving almost as audiographic guideposts, are faint but insistent gestures toward propulsion, an abiding and recurrent 4/4 pulse that guides the music laterally and instantiates a slow negotiation between its various elements. This music invites close listening precisely by not revealing itself all at once, allowing small collisions of timbre and subtle shifts in emphasis to carry the weight. The traces of lived environments that remain embedded in the mix - distant crowds, sounds of transit, the indistinct acoustics of interiors in flux - expand the frame without breaking its intimacy, creating a potent dislocation between the nearness of the sound and the scale of its sources. Rather than foregrounding any single voice, this is music that distributes attention equally across its materials, allowing background details to assert their presence as much as melody or rhythm. Honig presents listeners with an astute practice that’s concerned less with building from the ground up than with uncovering what happens when disparate textures and structures are brought into close contact with one another. (Alex Cobb, 2026)
Ashram Sun is a transcendent journey toward the inner source of Surya Botofasina’s musical being. Returning to the places and spaces of his spiritual and musical upbringing, the keyboardist and vocalist’s second LP for Spiritmuse after 2022’s acclaimed Everyone’s Children delivers an inspiring meditation on the works and message of his mentor, Swamini Turiyasangitananda, better known as Alice Coltrane, and takes us back to his grounding in the Sai Anantam Ashram – a Vedic ashram built and founded by Coltrane in Santa Monica, California, in 1983. By this time, the spiritual jazz colossus had already taken the name Turiyasangitananda, dedicating Her remaining decades living, teaching, and seeking spiritual enlightenment through prayer, meditation and music. Ashram Sun rises in the light of Her spirit. Produced by the prolific Carlos Niño, whose vision has become a pivotal point for contemporary progressive jazz music, Ashram Sun features appearances from musical luminaries, including multi-instrumentalist Angel Bat Dawid, Los Angeles saxophonist Randal Fisher, vocalist Mia Doi Todd, as well as collaborations with vocalist MidnightRoba and acclaimed harpist and vocalist Radha Botofasina, among others. The album continues to expand on and conversate with the innovative spiritual-jazz configurations of recent works by Shabaka Hutchings, André 3000 and Carlos Niño —all of which Surya plays on. This evolution follows from his debut album ‘Everyone’s Children’, also produced by Niño, which was one of the earliest offerings of this fresh, spiritual approach. As the keyboardist on André 3000’s New Blue Sun and an integral member of André’s touring group, Surya has already directly brought the legacy of Alice Coltrane/Turiyasangitananda into this rich new current in creative music. The music on Ashram Sun is tuned into these wavelengths, consolidating a new jazz lineage with energies directly from the source. The album blends improvisation in the creative music tradition with washes of cleanly spiritualised keyboard work, atmospheric percussion, and sanctified vocalisation. Key points of reference might be ambient works of maestro Laraaji, the sounds of the Californian New Age movement documented on the seminal I Am The Center collection, and key inspirations of Surya including the music of McCoy Tyner, Jodeci, DJ Quik, Dr. Dre, Kendrick Lamar, Robert Glasper, and the multitude of new works that have flowed from the milieu around key collaborators Carlos Niño and Nate Mercereau. And due to Surya’s formation at Sai Anantam Ashram, the divine aspects of the work have a powerful first-hand connection to the sacred musical and spiritual messages of both the expansive earlier music of Turiyasangitananda as Alice Coltrane, including Lord of Lords and Universal Consciousness, and her magnificent late ashram recordings, as recently documented on the collection World Spirituality Classic vol.1: The Ecstatic Music of Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda. As her mentee from his youth, Surya knew Her music intimately, for he was raised from childhood in Sai Anantam, where his mother Radha Botofasina, who plays harp and sings on ‘Your Soul is Perfect (Supreme Uniter)’, was a spiritual student of Turiyasangitananda. His musical, personal and spiritual growth within the Ashram remains the central reference point in his life. ‘The very core of my being resides and has been cultivated at the sacred grounds of Sai Anantam Ashram,’ he says today. ‘Each value, aspect, place, memory, person, quality, feeling, bhajan, Satsang, energetic representation collectively composes this person.’ As the album’s title indicates, he was and is an ‘Ashram Sun’, and the strong feminine presence of Swamini Turiyasangitananda and his mother Radha infuses the album’s ten tracks. In 2018, just over a decade after Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda’s passing, wildfires in California tragically burned the Sai Anantam Ashram to the ground. The light of the Ashram set in the flames, but Ashram Sun allows it to rise again in energy and music. The cover of the album features Surya on the steps of the fire-cleansed Ashram, a dedication to the place that he still calls ‘home’ and a statement of his devotion to the enspirited sound-message that Turiyasangitananda instilled in him. ‘The Ashram has taught me how to be a father to my unbelievably beautiful son and daughter; brother to the immediate and soul family; human being to the planet, and more,’ he explains. ‘Swamini and the Ashram has taught me that the only place worth going to, is within… I am always going to be an Ashram Sun.’
Ashram Sun is a transcendent journey toward the inner source of Surya Botofasina’s musical being. Returning to the places and spaces of his spiritual and musical upbringing, the keyboardist and vocalist’s second LP for Spiritmuse after 2022’s acclaimed Everyone’s Children delivers an inspiring meditation on the works and message of his mentor, Swamini Turiyasangitananda, better known as Alice Coltrane, and takes us back to his grounding in the Sai Anantam Ashram – a Vedic ashram built and founded by Coltrane in Santa Monica, California, in 1983. By this time, the spiritual jazz colossus had already taken the name Turiyasangitananda, dedicating Her remaining decades living, teaching, and seeking spiritual enlightenment through prayer, meditation and music. Ashram Sun rises in the light of Her spirit. Produced by the prolific Carlos Niño, whose vision has become a pivotal point for contemporary progressive jazz music, Ashram Sun features appearances from musical luminaries, including multi-instrumentalist Angel Bat Dawid, Los Angeles saxophonist Randal Fisher, vocalist Mia Doi Todd, as well as collaborations with vocalist MidnightRoba and acclaimed harpist and vocalist Radha Botofasina, among others. The album continues to expand on and conversate with the innovative spiritual-jazz configurations of recent works by Shabaka Hutchings, André 3000 and Carlos Niño —all of which Surya plays on. This evolution follows from his debut album ‘Everyone’s Children’, also produced by Niño, which was one of the earliest offerings of this fresh, spiritual approach. As the keyboardist on André 3000’s New Blue Sun and an integral member of André’s touring group, Surya has already directly brought the legacy of Alice Coltrane/Turiyasangitananda into this rich new current in creative music. The music on Ashram Sun is tuned into these wavelengths, consolidating a new jazz lineage with energies directly from the source. The album blends improvisation in the creative music tradition with washes of cleanly spiritualised keyboard work, atmospheric percussion, and sanctified vocalisation. Key points of reference might be ambient works of maestro Laraaji, the sounds of the Californian New Age movement documented on the seminal I Am The Center collection, and key inspirations of Surya including the music of McCoy Tyner, Jodeci, DJ Quik, Dr. Dre, Kendrick Lamar, Robert Glasper, and the multitude of new works that have flowed from the milieu around key collaborators Carlos Niño and Nate Mercereau. And due to Surya’s formation at Sai Anantam Ashram, the divine aspects of the work have a powerful first-hand connection to the sacred musical and spiritual messages of both the expansive earlier music of Turiyasangitananda as Alice Coltrane, including Lord of Lords and Universal Consciousness, and her magnificent late ashram recordings, as recently documented on the collection World Spirituality Classic vol.1: The Ecstatic Music of Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda. As her mentee from his youth, Surya knew Her music intimately, for he was raised from childhood in Sai Anantam, where his mother Radha Botofasina, who plays harp and sings on ‘Your Soul is Perfect (Supreme Uniter)’, was a spiritual student of Turiyasangitananda. His musical, personal and spiritual growth within the Ashram remains the central reference point in his life. ‘The very core of my being resides and has been cultivated at the sacred grounds of Sai Anantam Ashram,’ he says today. ‘Each value, aspect, place, memory, person, quality, feeling, bhajan, Satsang, energetic representation collectively composes this person.’ As the album’s title indicates, he was and is an ‘Ashram Sun’, and the strong feminine presence of Swamini Turiyasangitananda and his mother Radha infuses the album’s ten tracks. In 2018, just over a decade after Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda’s passing, wildfires in California tragically burned the Sai Anantam Ashram to the ground. The light of the Ashram set in the flames, but Ashram Sun allows it to rise again in energy and music. The cover of the album features Surya on the steps of the fire-cleansed Ashram, a dedication to the place that he still calls ‘home’ and a statement of his devotion to the enspirited sound-message that Turiyasangitananda instilled in him. ‘The Ashram has taught me how to be a father to my unbelievably beautiful son and daughter; brother to the immediate and soul family; human being to the planet, and more,’ he explains. ‘Swamini and the Ashram has taught me that the only place worth going to, is within… I am always going to be an Ashram Sun.’
*2025 reissue* Ralf and Florian (original German title: Ralf und Florian) is the third studio album by the German electronic band Kraftwerk. It was released in October 1973 and it saw the group moving toward their signature electronic sound. This work introduces greater cleanliness in the sounds and intensifies the use of electronic instrumentation, namely synths (Mini Moog, the EMS AKS and Farfisa), drum machines and, for the first time, a prototype vocoder. The formation thus approaches the stylistic code of the best-known works, starting from Autobahn, the latter considered to be the true debut of Kraftwerk. In 2008, Fact named it among the 20 greatest ambient albums ever made.
