Electronic / Experimental

Armand Hammer and The Alchemist build worlds. Their first was Haram and it remains locked in orbit, equal parts lush and foreboding. Their new one is called Mercy and it’s made out of blood and empire, children’s laughter, unpaid parking tickets, and things that haven’t happened yet.Rappers ELUCID and billy woods are joined on the mic by Earl Sweatshirt, Quelle Chris, Cleo Reed, Pink Siifu, Kapwani, and Silka. The Alchemist did everything else.

Looking back more than four years later at Haram, it is easier to see the forest for the trees. At the time, much of the attention fell on how this outsider duo would fare under the bright lights- which was fair, Armand Hammer had never done a single producer record before- and here they were working with a living legend. Now, with a little distance, it’s easier to see how Alchemist stepped out of his comfort zone to meet them where they were, and how all three artists then absconded for parts unknown. The flashbulb energy of “Bring The Stars Out”, asymmetric drone of “Chicharrones”, fugue-bounce of “God’s Feet”, and good luck finding analogues for “Peppertree” or “Stonefruit”. Haram doesn’t sound like anything else in the ALC discography, nor in Armand Hammer’s, for that matter. Haram was a one-shot kill that somehow contained some of the most accessible work ELUCID and billy woods had ever done, as well as some of their most experimental, and it all sounded cohesive.Needless to say, they didn’t do this alone; KAYANA’s golden voice upps the wattage on “Black Sunlight,” while Fielded’s sultry alto gets chopped and screwed on “Aubergine”. Earl Sweatshirt’s cameo on the sun-soaked “Falling Out the Sky” is already a classic. Curly Castro, Amani, and Quelle Chris all turn up the heat when called upon.But since we are talking about retrospect here, the thing about Haram isn’t that it still sounds as good as it did when it came out. The amazing thing is that it actually sounds even better than it did then. You don’t have to take our word for it either, run it up one time, with the lights low and something on ice, see if it doesn’t take you somewhere new, again.

Charlemagne Palestine's newest record pairs two energetic works for carillon bells. On side A, a new piece recorded at his studio in Belgium - a high-ceiling, stuffed animal paradise he calls Charleworld - among friends and divinities. On the flip side, Blank Forms Editions' very first and long out-of-print release appears on vinyl for the first time: a cathartic street recording of his 2018 musical eulogy for his late friend Tony Conrad, performed on the bells of St. Thomas Episcopal Church where the two first met. Two mesmerizing "klanggdedangggebannggg" sessions in the Quasimodo of 53rd Street's unmistakable improvisatory style.

Electronic musician nthng presents his fifth album, Last Light of the Sun, his debut release on topo2. Renowned for his meticulous productions and quietly distinctive artistic voice, nthng continues to move effortlessly between ambient, IDM, dub techno, and drum & bass without ever feeling bound by genre. Last Light of the Sun shows that the album format is a natural home for nthng's expansive musical vision. Throughout its ten compositions, the album moves gracefully between dreamlike melodic passages, restrained, fragile 4/4 structures, melancholic drum & bass punctuated by vintage house vocal fragments, and spacious ambient compositions that feel unmistakably his own. The double LP is released by adventurous electronic music label topo2 on October 2, 2026. The record is pressed on two 180-gram discs of ICCS-certified bio-vinyl and housed in a heavyweight full-colour gatefold sleeve. Mastered by Isabel Schröer at OLO Mastering, with artwork by Alyssa Warren and Raen Coplin. Additional contributions include bamboo flute on "Flutter" by Temple Rat and typewriting by Karina Rovira.

With Réminiscences (2017–2019), Jean-Claude Éloy embarks on an ambitious journey through memory, transformation, and pure listening. This vast electroacoustic cycle—comprising Incantation, Confrontation, Contemplation, and Oppression-Libération—draws deeply from the sound world of his seminal work Yo-In. Éloy recycles and reworks electroacoustic materials originally created at the Institute of Sonology (Utrecht, 1979/1980) and incorporates an extraordinary archive of percussion samples recorded at his request by Japanese percussionist Sumire Yoshihara at NHK’s Electronic Music Studio in Tokyo, as well as contributions from Gaston Sylvestre and Michael Ranta. Unlike the original 1980 version—conceived as a sound theater for an imaginary ritual and realized with the participation of Michael W. Ranta—Réminiscences is conceived as a purely electroacoustic experience, liberated from the constraints of live performance. Éloy focuses on the most distinctive sources: boat sirens, natural phenomena (volcanoes, wind, rain, waves), African bird calls, industrial noises, and a wide palette of metallic, wooden, and skin percussion. The result is a celebration of sound itself—an acoustic ritual where each work explores a specific theme through the metamorphosis of its materials. Éloy’s intent is to draw the listener into a heightened state of auditory perception, encouraging a deep concentration on the sonic phenomena at the heart of the music. Réminiscences stands as a testament to his lifelong exploration of the power of listening and the transformative potential of electroacoustic art. Produced at Studio Eve-Défense, the composer’s home studio, and presented in a 5-panel digipak with a 24-page booklet, this release is both a culmination and a renewal of Éloy’s creative universe.

Subtitled: Primordial Vibration / Sound ceremonial with a contemplative character. Composed in 1983-1986. Sound ceremonial with a contemplative character for two voices of Japanese Buddhist monks (traditional Shômyô techniques - traditional temple chanting - in a larger, modern and creative form), three Japanese Gagaku instrumentalists (traditional court music in a modern and creative form), one percussionist (with a percussion instrument orchestra) and electro-acoustic (fixed interactive sounds). Electronic studio of the Sweelinck Conservatorium, Amsterdam (1984-86). With Ebihara Kôshin (Tendai sect): solo voice, Arai Kôjun (Shingon sect): solo voice, Yaotani Satoru: Ô-Hichiriki solo, Shiba Sukeyasu : solo Ryûteki, Miyata Mayumi: Shô solo, Ô-Shô, Alto-Sheng, Michael Ranta : solo percussions, Jean-Claude Eloy, electro-acoustic (sound projection, general coordination, mixing). Studio recording made during the Donaueschingen festival 1990 (Donaueschinger Musiktage) by the SWF (Südwestfunk), Baden-Baden. First World publication. Presented in a small box of 3 x CDs with 60 pages booklet.

First world publication for the seminal Yo-In (1980) an electro-acoustic work produced in Japan and revisited by the Museum of Modern Art of the City of Paris in 1981. “Sound Theater for an imaginary rite”. Yo-Inleads to a sort of “celebration-ritualization of the day of man on Earth”. Jean-Claude Eloy discovered the meaning of Yo-In by going deeper into the culture of Japan where he had been invited by Toru Takemitsu in 1970: “Yo-In, echo, rhyme, resonance, psychic reverberation”. Karheinz Stockhausen quickly valued Jean-Claude Eloy and has always supported him. Close universes, long-term works. Four acts for Reverberations “in an unusual context". Performed by Michael Ranta (solo percussionist) and Jean-Claude Eloy (electroacoustic projection, synchronisation, mixings). Recorded during a public concert given at the Warsaw Autumn festival Polish-Radio, Warsaw, September, 1994 "I look at my watch for the first time: it has been four hours since I entered the sanctuary and I have not left my seat. Actually, nowadays few musical pieces are capable of keeping the audience awake that long. 'Yo-In' does not just capture our attention through a mere act of hypnosis, through the spellbinding magic of sounds or through some hovering dizziness [...] 'Yo-In' is not born from a land of oblivion but from the realm of consciousness. Here, once time has been stretched by the long, evolving scores, one becomes much more accessible and open, extremely receptive to the many specific and complex events that follow one another, overlap, intermingle and combine with one another in a wonderfully mastered development. […]" J.C. Eloy Deluxe edition, 4xCD + 160pp book in english

Mala Fama is a Kichwa sound artist from Ibarra, Ecuador. His work is a testament to inhabiting—and creating—multiple worlds at once, while being rooted in Indigenous pride and power. Jichushka is a Kichwa word translating to “Lonely/Abandoned,” marking grief as a pathway to liberation. The 11-track album features the cultural specificities of northern Ecuador's Indigenous communities while also traversing boundless electronic experimentation, and was mastered by Nicola Cruz. Lead single "Mortaja II" is a retextured adaptation of Kichwa funeral music, accompanied by a music video (release date October 21st) that reflects the track’s sacred circularity through movement and land-based ritual. The video was shot in Ibarra, Ecuador by directors Rony Albuja and Hilda Males. Mala Fama wrote and recorded the album between 2016-2022, through ongoing home studio sessions that facilitated close collaboration with a network of artists of musical lineages from the Andean region such as marimba, vallenato, and cumbia– including Afro-Ecuadorian group Duo Anjoa, vocalist Catalina Ortiz hailing from coastal Esmeraldas, Ibarra-based multi-instrumentalist Luis Lema, and Quixosis, a leader of Quito’s underground vanguard. The majority of Jichushka was composed throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, reflecting a complete revision of a previously-written album to mirror unexpected shifts, and new beginnings. The album is world-making through peaceful, ambient compositions as much as heavy sequencing, inviting melancholic remembrances of times and spaces that no longer exist, but that make way for creation.

"Shaking off the uneasy depths of Lapsed Gasps took a minute (those mix sessions were intense!). Oliver and I knew we’d like the record that followed to let in some light. Not much light, but enough to differently illuminate the darkened corners Push For Night prefers to inhabit. So we shifted the stone slab covering the conceptual entrance to the sarcophagal room that contains the idea of PFN, just a little, and the crepuscular light inside the room changed. The shadows behaved differently, sounded differently. The textures, sizes, shapes, and acoustics of our weird space altered. How can we interpret the shadows’ song and dance differently this time? In these subtle changes in perception there lies a wealth of things to investigate, to peer into, to be afraid of, to be excited by… That said, our writing process doesn’t involve too much premeditated verbal back and forth. We tend to start lobbing sessions at each other and a path inevitably clears. In this case, and in no small part, the clearing of the path of That Porous Line begins with the contributions of my longtime sonic comrade David Daniell. The two pieces Oliver and I made with David are the earliest in the sessions that would become this record. He brought, for lack of a better word, a beauty - a gentle, organic beauty - that ultimately reoriented PFN toward a sense of the melodic and of spontaneity. We moved away from programming sequences, generative patches, and atomizing every sound source via heavy processing. We lightened the gloom a bit. It might sound naive, but we touched instruments again; we played guitars and basses and keyboards and percussion, fingers on metal wire and wood. We reveled in less-than-perfect real time performance, and documented it as such. There is a certain lightness to that. Don’t get me wrong, That Porous Line is absolutely a collaged, flickering, chaotic, electro-acoustic record. The project is the project after all. Although our tomb-room isn’t fully hermetic (what is?), I think it is a place PFN will always reside. A total escape outside into harshly lit reality without mystery is fairly unappealing, for us anyway. Inside is personal, guarded from too much light; a dark terrarium of weird ghosts and peculiar shadows ripe for conjuring and harnessing in order to make them kick and howl in a way pleasing to us. Or at least be near enough to them to try and hear what they sing. That’s the motive. We decorate the cave, invite the specters to reveal a message, and try to capture something. Inside, cocooned in the semi-dark of our uncommon space, we bang our heads against the act of interpreting these shifty, chimeric, hidden sonic shadows. How big is it in here? How much further down can we go? Did something move in that corner over there? Can it touch us? Can we catch it? That’s where the fear is. That’s where the fun happens. That’s why we listen. That’s why we play."

Somewhere in the Wind is the third record that Loren Connors and I have made together. Of the three, it’s the first that consists exclusively of electric guitar duos and it’s the first that was recorded live. To me it feels very much like a live record; this music happened in crowded rooms in Brooklyn on two dates in 2025 and there’s an urgency to connect with others and a pleasure in doing so that can be heard on both of these tracks. On the first of our duo records (Arborvitae, 2003) I primarily play piano, and on the second (Evening Air, 2024) we switch off on piano and guitar. Both of those albums bespeak the privacy of the recording studio, where time is suspended and one can explore the quietest of sounds. By contrast, Somewhere in the Wind is the noisiest, most raucous and most free of our duo records. It’s the sound of us taking it to the stage. I became a fan of Loren’s playing from the moment that I first heard it, after happening upon a beat-up copy of In Pittsburgh circa 1992 in a used bin in the Dr. Wax record store in Chicago where my then-bandmate Bundy K. Brown worked. Everyone has taken a chance on a record because it looked interesting and wouldn’t set you back too much. In that regard In Pittsburgh was the find of a lifetime. I had just switched from playing in a postpunk power trio (Bastro) to making mostly drummerless respect-your-neighbors music (Gastr del Sol), and Loren’s pacing and touch and his lovely, unaffected compositions had me from the first listen. Not long after that, Jim O’Rourke and I reissued In Pittsburgh on our Dexter’s Cigar label, and I fondly remember first meeting Loren in New York’s Grand Central Station—so glamorous for this country mouse—and taking the train upstate with him where he shared a bill with Gastr del Sol. During soundcheck, Jim, Loren, and I played together for a bit and Loren’s approach to the instrument was something that one could instantly sink into, the kind of situation where there are no mistakes. I still feel that when we play together.

*Warehouse find!* In Italy, the genre of documentary film has represented a particularly fertile field for a critical review of the musical contribution to cinema at least since as early as the 1950s. The Italian public television RAI used to broadcast disturbing paranoiac dramas, weird documentaries on the bottom of the sea and indigestible so-called “educational” movies. ESP was a television series produced by Rai in 1973, directed by Daniele D'Anza, and aired from Sunday, May 27 1973 to Sunday, June 17, 1973 on the National Program. It was centered around Extra Sensory perception and paranormal psychic phenomena, and the music was made our beloved Maestro and personal hero Egisto Macchi. Compositions are often spooky and tense, with dark instrumentation and a wonderful ear for an odd tuning or unusual phrasing. There is no doubt that Macchi’s musical contribution is one of the most significant in the panorama of Italian documentary production, in both qualitative and quantita- tive terms. It would nevertheless be arduous to trace a complete picture of his activity in this field, for this would involve discussing several films which no longer exist and, according to records drawn up by Macchi himself, the number of his documentary film scores is well over a thousand. Egisto Macchi, often remembered as a member of Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, the historic Italian improvising collective (that also included Franco Evangelisti and Ennio Morricone, among others), was a major figure within the contemporary music field from the fifties to the eighties. The life path of Egisto Macchi seemed to be devoted to the multiplicity of aesthetic choices and musical expressions. While tracing his life and work, one notices an interesting duality based both on a very inclusive approach towards all kind of expressive needs and full control of the level of communication.

For the 30th birthday of INA, the GRM has decided to present in this CD box some of his archives. CD1 “les visiteurs de la musique concrète” : André Hodeir – Pierre Boulez – Jean Barraqué – Darius Milhaud – Roman Haubenstock-Ramati – Henri Sauguet – Edgar Varèse – André Boucourechliev – Claude Ballif – Iannis Xenakis – Olivier Messiaen. CD2 “L’art de l’étude : Pierre Schaeffer – Monique Rollin – Michel Philippot – Philippe Arthuys – Luc Ferrari – François-Bernard Mâche – Mireille Chamass-Kyrou – Ivo Malec – Philippe Carson – Akira Tamba – Beatriz Ferreyra – Alain Savouret. CD3 “Le son en nombres » : François Bayle – Dieter Kaufmann – Jean-Claude Risset – Ivo Malec – Denys Smalley – Gilles Racot – Yann Geslin – Bénédict Maillard – Jean Schwarz – Francis Dhomont. CD4 “Le temps du temps réel” : Bernard Parmegiani – Åke Parmerud – Denis Dufour – Horacio Vaggione – Alain Savouret – François Bayle – Gilles Racot – Daniel Teruggi – Ramon Gonzales-Arroyo – Michel Redolfi. CD5 “Le grm sans le savoir” : Bernard Parmegiani – Robert Wyatt/F. Bayle – François Bayle – Alain Savouret – Jean Schwarz – Michel Portal/J. Schwarz – Boris Vian/B. Parmegiani – Robert Cohen-Solal – Guy Reibel – Edgardo Canton – Christian Zanési.Pour marquer et fêter les trente ans de l’Ina, le GRM a choisi de réunir en un coffret exceptionnel de cinq disques compacts quelques unes de ses archives musicales parmi les plus remarquables. Souvent inédites ou alors dispersées au gré des publications, ces œuvres originales ont marqué par leur nouveauté et leur audace la seconde moitié du XX° siècle.Un coffret de 5 CD augmenté d’un album de 101 photos.CD1 “les visiteurs de la musique concrète” : André Hodeir – Pierre Boulez – Jean Barraqué – Darius Milhaud – Roman Haubenstock-Ramati – Henri Sauguet – Edgar Varèse – André Boucourechliev – Claude Ballif – Iannis Xenakis – Olivier Messiaen.CD2 “L’art de l’étude : Pierre Schaeffer – Monique Rollin – Michel Philippot – Philippe Arthuys – Luc Ferrari – François-Bernard Mâche – Mireille Chamass-Kyrou – Ivo Malec – Philippe Carson – Akira Tamba – Beatriz Ferreyra – Alain Savouret.CD3 “Le son en nombres » : François Bayle – Dieter Kaufmann – Jean-Claude Risset – Ivo Malec – Denys Smalley – Gilles Racot – Yann Geslin – Bénédict Maillard – Jean Schwarz – Francis Dhomont.CD4 “Le temps du temps réel” : Bernard Parmegiani – Åke Parmerud – Denis Dufour – Horacio Vaggione – Alain Savouret – François Bayle – Gilles Racot – Daniel Teruggi – Ramon Gonzales-Arroyo – Michel Redolfi.CD5 “Le grm sans le savoir” : Bernard Parmegiani – Robert Wyatt/F. Bayle – François Bayle – Alain Savouret – Jean Schwarz – Michel Portal/J. Schwarz – Boris Vian/B. Parmegiani – Robert Cohen-Solal – Guy Reibel – Edgardo Canton – Christian Zanési.Album “archives grm en images” : album photos noir et blanc de 80 pages et 101 documents. Une suite poétique de photographies jalonnant l’aventure des chercheurs, compositeurs, musiciens et techniciens, qui animent les cinq disques du coffret.

Taking off from Beaugars Seck’s foundational sabar drum rhythms — recorded by Sam in Dakar in February 2020 — Shackleton has constructed a trio of intricately layered, luminous, enchanted, epic excursions. The second is more dazzled and meandering, with jellied bass, insectile detail, and discombobulated jabbering; the third is more liquid, fleet of foot, and psychedelic, with a grooving b-line and funky keyboard stabs, scrambled eastern strings and hypnotic vocalese. The harmonium in The Overwhelming Yes sounds like Nico blowing in chillily from up the desert shore. The overall mood is wondrous, twinkling with light, onwards-and-upwards; an uncanny, dubwise mix of the ancient and the futuristic. Mark Ernestus’ Version is stripped, trepidatious, mystical, and stranger still, with just a snatch of the original melody, extra distortion and delay, and crystal-clear drum sound. Twenty minutes of startlingly original music, with Shackleton the maestro at the top of his game, and a characteristically evilous dub by Mark Ernestus. Mastered by Rashad Becker; handsomely sleeved. Sick to the nth. Love 4 Ever.

Ignatz, the long-running project of Belgian musician Bram Devens, has spent two decades refining a distinctive approach to songcraft—built on repetition, subtle shifts, and an ear for the uncanny. Across a steady stream of releases on labels including (K-RAA-K)³, Ultra Eczema and Fonal, his work remains instantly recognisable while continually evolving. I Don’t Know marks a striking departure. Following earlier recordings centred on guitar, Devens turns to piano, uncovering a new, more skeletal language. The instrument first entered his orbit in the mid-2010s, when he inherited a family piano and began exploring its possibilities as a self-taught player. Recorded at home in Landen, these pieces feel sparse and unsettled, carrying a raw intimacy that sets them apart from his previous work. The result is a haunted, deeply personal album that reframes Ignatz’s sound without losing its core identity.

For Takuro Okada, this marks his first physical release since *Konoma*, which received high praise from media outlets and listeners both in Japan and abroad. This work was created for the campaign promoting the new “MT2” footwear line designed by TOKYO DESIGN STUDIO New Balance. The campaign video is available on New Balance T-HOUSE’s owned media platform. 　Side A, “Still Water,” features Shouei Ikeda (flute) and is composed of a minimalist ensemble that strips the arrangement down to the bare essentials while incorporating elements of folk and Afro-music. Recorded based on improvised performances and captured on analog tape, the track evokes the subtle fluctuations of sound and rich spaces reminiscent of a still water’s surface. 　Side B, “Dohman Sehman,” takes the mood of vintage funk as its starting point while weaving in a melodic sensibility and folkloric resonance reminiscent of Japanese folk songs and kayōkyoku. Featuring up-and-coming musicians such as Kei Matsumaru (alto sax), Mei Katsumaru (tenor sax), Yuma Koda (Wurlitzer / Farfisa), Yuka Konishi (bass), and Hayate Ebihara (drums), this track is marked by a powerful groove created by a spatial mix reminiscent of dub techniques and a robust rhythm section. 　With “Still Water,” which is imbued with serene stillness, and “Dohman Sehman,” which contains a powerful groove, these two contrasting tracks showcase the breadth of Takuro Okada’s creative evolution since *Konoma*.

„Öd“ marks the long-awaited return of Institut für Feinmotorik - the Black Forest collective known for using eight prepared turntables to investigate acoustic micro-phenomena generated by everyday objects - with a new album and their first full-length release on Faitiche. It is also the return of their almost comical understatement as personal artistic principle: „making almost nothing out of almost nothing,“ compressed into the dots on an umlaut. The Öd-nis, the wasteland, is a field that the collective has been ploughing in sound since their first release in 1997. Eight prepared turntables, four mixers, no records, six hands (give or take) merge into what they call the „Octogrammoticum“. A rotating organism of surfaces in friction, fed with the clutter from a drawer: rubber bands or tin foil, CDs, a discarded socket board. Under IFF's scrutinizing stylus, mundane almost-nothings get scratched open to reveal the acoustic density of negative space itself. Last year’s „Adhesive Tape“ drew IFF closer together after an almost ten-year hiatus. An eponymous event series at Berlin's silent green set in motion what would become their most twistedly funky release since „Penetrans“ on Staubgold in 2002. The only thing öd about „Öd" (meaning „barren" or „boring“ in German) may well be its title: layers of improvised play and randomized loops convolve around porous, dubby groove locks, tugging at each other in a call-and-response with howling static that cuts through bulbous ambient techno into a scrap-metal Dixieland phantasm. Stratified yet spacious, these sonic double exposures always hover on the verge of collapsing. What you think you hear might not be what you actually hear. The album’s track titles resemble Conceptual Poetry, extending this psycho-phenomenological gesture into the realm of spoken language. Conceived by renowned poet Dagmara Kraus, they become word molecules - „stern,” „dies,” „lose“ - tilting delicately between German and English, constantly changing depending on the ear’s perspective and pointing back to the deeply unstable fabric connecting meaning and sound. Which also makes „Öd“ an unusual cross-disciplinary collaboration - at least in the field of electronic music. PS: Since its beginnings in Bad Säckingen, IFF has always been more than the sum of its rotating parts, moving tirelessly between multimedia art, theory, solo projects and collaborations. With IFF Expanded, the collective now opens its eight-doored apparatus, inviting artists working with CDJs or samplers to join - an ambitious live format that loosens its former purity law while carrying forward a long-standing curatorial practice. The same thread also runs into the related event series Acephalic Headspace. (Text: Sonja Matuszczyk)

In 1979, Akio Suzuki recorded a performance, ¡ÇNew Sense Of Hearing¡Ç, at the Nagoya American Centre. During the performance, Suzuki used voice, turntables, glass harmonica and his self-designed instrument the Analapos to create a series of improvised pieces that effectively charted out his sonic investigations for the proceeding decades. In 1980 these recordings were issued by ALM records as Analapos, the first work made publicly available by Akio Suzuki. For going on six decades now, Akio Suzuki has been responsible for creating amongst the most otherworldly, yet deeply affective sound works of his generation. As a musician, sculptor and sound artist, Suzuki¡Çs work threads an important linkage between Eastern and Western sound art practices. His approaches, that focus primarily on intense states of listening, ¡Çthrowing and following¡Ç and a relentless sense of open curiosity, have allowed him to continuously deepen his work. Originally published in an edition of just 200 copies in 1980, Analapos has been out of print literally since its release. Clocking in an over an hour, the original pressing of the recordings to a single LP, presented some technical limitations. This 40th anniversary edition of Analapos is entirely remastered and is published with a booklet that includes a long form interview with Akio Suzuki conducted by sound artist and collaborator Aki Onda, plus extensive photographic documentation of the development of the Analapos. The publication of this edition is announced in conjunction with the Sense Of Ekō retrospective exhibition which opens at The Substation in Melbourne late January.

In May 1984 I appeared at a German festival called Pro
Musica Nova, organized by Radio Bremen. I then travelled to
Berlin by car with Rolf Langebertels, the owner of Galerie
Giannozzo who had driven to Bremen to hear me perform. I still
remember very vividly the experience of passing through the
checkpoint to enter West Berlin, a city that floated like an island
in the middle of the still socialist GDR. I had previously visited
Berlin in 1982 to perform at Kunstlerhaus Bethanien at an event
that Rolf had organized. This time too Rolf had organized a
concert for me at the Technische Universitat. Playing off the title
of the piece (“Study Time”) I had performed at Pro Musica
Nova, I titled the piece for this concert “Zeitstudie”.

I owe Rolf a great deal of gratitude, as it was him who
encouraged me by releasing my very first cassette tape,
“Zeitstudie von Akio Suzuki”. In recent years it has become
difficult for me to carry heavy instruments around with me, and
I have started to do simpler performances with objects
assembled on site. So it feels wonderful to have the sound of
the battery of instruments I used back then to be returned to the
light of day.

On “Zeitstudie von A.S.” I used an ANALAPOS, the echo
instrument I invented in 1970, and the Suzuki-type glass
harmonica that I created in 1975. The ANALAPOS resembles the
tin-can telephone that children used to play with: two metal
cans, open at one end and connected by a coil spring. You
play it by stretching out the spring horizonally and then
projecting your voice into the open end of one of the
cylinders. The second piece features a variation, where I
would suspend several ANALAPOS vertically and play them like
a percussion instrument.

The Suzuki-type glass harmonica is in a simpler form than the
pre-existing glass harmonica, and consists of five long glass
tubes of varying diameters suspended horizontally in a metal
frame. As well as rubbing the tubes with wet hands, I developed
my own style of playing it using sticks. Once when I was
practicing with it in the Netherlands, outside the window I was
surprised to hear a bird imitating my sounds. However, later I
discovered that the bird always sang that way, and as a token
of my regret for having ever doubted it, I borrowed the bird’s
Dutch name, De Koolmees, and I s till use it for my instrument.
Recently, as I listened back to the cassette of “Zeitstudie von
A.S.”, one of Hiromi Miyakita’s drawings was lying in front of me.
There was a sympathetic resonance between the sounds and the
drawing, so I decided to use it on the cover. This is a joyful music. 

With concentration, or elevated tension as he has called it, Akio Suzuki enters completely into the substance of sound, its emergence and its passing. What he does with sound may propose a rarefied world to many people, and yet it possesses a persuasive quality of rightness. One of the most difficult aspects of music and soundwork to explain is the concept of ‘right action’. How is that music can be evaluated almost immediately, just as quickly as a fire alarm or a baby’s cry? When Akio performs, certain qualities (grace, warmth, a quiet authority of mind and action, an engagement with the vessel of nothingness through which sound can emerge) are evident as presences, as soon as he begins. He begins from a state we call silence, by listening, yet at the same time raises questions about our ideas of what this silence might be. Time passes; fixity gives way to destruction; visual perfection is relinquished within the faintest of sound fields. As for the work, this ceremony returns us to nothing, ‘to the feeling of not knowing exactly what is before us’, so to the uncanny, to the shell-like ear found by the sea, the ‘ungraspable phantom of life’, the record of a haunting, time regained. The sound is a parabola, a finger tracing on skin, a brush point, bird in flight.

A note from Cleared Our approach to making records has always involved an exchange of individually created sounds, which are joined together through live improvisation, studio recording, and the use of diagrammatic visual scores. Over the last several years, we have been interested in expanding very small fragments of these discreet pieces of audio into long-form compositions. This process has resulted in a new approach to how we build tracks from the ground up. In this particular workflow, one of us is largely responsible for supplying the main cache of sounds, and the other is responsible for the processing and sequencing of those sounds. As we developed this kind of working relationship, the nature of the material has ventured into a palette that is more electronic. This is perhaps a result of the "collage" aspect of how the audio is arranged inside of a digital environment, as well as our continued discovery and use of new digital processing tools. We are constantly attempting to extract as much as possible out of an initial collection of audio, which typically includes field recordings, synthesis experiments, bits of acoustic instrumentation, and found sounds. In many instances the original sounds are manipulated far beyond their recognizable characteristics, which creates new and unexpected results. We also share a great personal interest in utilizing sounds with different levels of fidelity, as we both enjoy the unique traits inherent in various recording formats. The artifacts and destructive compression of antiquated digital recorders, and the pristine qualities of modern studio technology both contain, in different ways, our own intimate relationships to such devices and spaces. We believe this is reflective of how we associate and remember sound, which is through the peripherals of its delivery. In the context of Cleared, this interest is pursued to further the poetic and gestural features of our music, and to create records that are infused with visual imagery, memory, and the physical environments in which we find inspiration. Lustres is the most detailed and refined output of our studio practice using this method of exchanging sound material. The four tracks present a mood that, for us, is indicative of a kind of rolling celestial atmosphere. Simultaneously, there exists both a subterranean and starlit quality about the music. To us, it is not unlike the imagined terrain of a distant meteor or orbiting asteroid, alternating between the extremes of light and temperature as its path is slowly carved in a dark vacuum. It is music for contemplation and quiet reflection, as these are the states of listening we have come to greatly appreciate in our personal lives, and as the space in which we are most happy to have our music experienced. Lustres is a document being released as we near 15 years of the Cleared collaboration, and we hope it offers listeners a chapter of our story that, while rooted in our past material, advances the core discipline of what we have always pursued as our central theme: Patience.

Sa Pa explores the murkier edges of dub techno and deep house on Rhythm From Ambient, the second release on his Dub Techno For Life label.The title track rolls through heavy dub pressure and gravelly percussion, while ‘Rhythm’ reworks an industrial techno piece originally intended for Sa Pa’s 2015 MDR EP. ‘Last Dance’ stretches into deep house territory with a slow-burning, dubbed-out pulse, before ‘Bo Riddim’ closes things down with deep sub-bass, heavy drums, loose percussion and fragmented melodies. Another experimental outing from Sa Pa, moving between dub techno, house and stranger electronic terrain.

A quiet show of strength from Chicago’s budding Dub Techno specialists, Kino Disk, hustling 11 permutations of dub-suffixed ambient, techno, and elemental abstraction by label regulars and new figures, warmly advised FFO Huerco S., Echospace, Short Span, Vialan... In the space of 20 odd releases since ’24, Kino Disk has emerged as a key point of interest for off-grid dub aficionados. ‘American Dub Electronics’ now opens an ideal entry portal to their microcosm for the curious and early followers alike, rendering 11 exclusive bits that speak to the label’s fine grasp of variation within a theme. Trust it’s not just 11 slice of M-Series worship, as a webbed spectra of interrelated, American POV’s on the same gauzy spirit emerges from their collected vapours. Building on the smouldering embers of over 30 years of precedents in this field, the set sways from the moonlit tidal movement of Psalm Star Electric’s ‘001’ to the unmoored slosh of 8006 (whose ‘8004’ was a sleeper gem of ’25) with a particularly nocturnal appeal. Eustress practices the most Catholic form of dub house in the darkly luminous ‘mm’, and Eden Aurelius’ Ring impress with the ASMR-like sensitivities of ‘Changeling’, and another label regular Point Survey with the phasing dub noise of ‘Print-Through’. Keener observers may recognise those names already, but perhaps not the new ones here, notably Corbin Cary & Taylor White’s Permutia duo, secreting the fine lather chords and sandman bassline of ‘p1.2’, or HPIN with the early SND-style puckered glitch of ‘Remote’, Uos’ washed-out textures on Uos in ‘Uos Jelly’, and dreamily poised dub waltz of ‘Speedwalker’ by a.m.p & b.p.p.

Fog is Marija Rasa’s debut album on Short Span as emer, and her first cut to wax. It follows a single featuring Ugnė Uma for Stroom and a wonderful debut tape for the now cult (I hope!) incubator label Lilerne Tape Club. It’s for dreamers. Very dub. Soul. Ambient too. A bit of Detroit-like post industrial imagining. You can read it is as a new and different version of a very classic dub technique from the producer in many ways - Marija at the mixing console and effects desk, conjuring a new versioned music through radical restructuring and an instinctive reshaping of space + melody + lyric in studio experimentation. Tracks are pinned down by thick and enveloping bass while other elements float in and out, fleeting narcotic or hypnagogic notes of fantasy and song form bob in and out of focus. Scant colours and disorienting voice and melody sit suspended, occasionally coalescing and breaking out into moments of radiant beauty and slowly burning manifestations of warmth and presence shooting through the heart and gut.

Japan’s distinctive punk and new wave scene emerged with the arrival of the “Tokyo Rockers” movement in 1978, led by musicians who had come of age within the underground rock culture of the 1970s. As that scene faded, these artists — energised by the shock of London and New York punk scenes — launched a last, defiant charge that crystallised as "Tokyo Rockers". From the beginning, many "Tokyo Rockers" musicians were deeply drawn to reggae. They listened voraciously to reggae records, especially dub, and even when they were not performing reggae outright, dub-informed ideas permeated their sound. Throughout the evolution from punk to new wave, reggae was absorbed naturally by the musicians at the center of the scene. Yet the connection between these genres was rarely acknowledged in Japan’s music media. In this sense, the creation of this compilation marks a truly groundbreaking moment as it may well offer a new lens through which to view the history of Japanese rock. "Japanese New Wave On Dub" takes a deep dive into the relatively unsung heroes of this culturally unique moment throughout it's first 5 years of maturation. 12 tracks that will embellish the record collection of any true music lover, a beautifully documented piece of niche Japanese underground culture from the firs half of the 80's, faithfully put together by Yuzo Iwata.