Electronic / Experimental

The EP "Trans Canada Highway", released in 2006 by the Scottish electronic music duo Boards of Canada on Warp. Against a backdrop of the nostalgia and sense of memory characteristic of Boards of Canada, synthesizers that evoke the warmth of analog equipment, hazily processed samples, and gently swaying beats layer together to create a soundscape that blurs the line between reality and memory. It is one of the defining works of Warp in the 2000s and an EP that leaves a particularly beautiful afterglow within their discography.

Boards of Canada's masterpiece single. released in 2000.

A classic. Boards of Canada's 1998 masterpiece, their first album.

how it thrills us, the bird's clear cry...
any cry that was always there.
children, playing in the open air,
children already go crying by
real cries. cry chance in. through crevasses
in that same space whereinto, as dreaming
men into dreams, the pure bird-cry passes
they drive their splintering wedge of screaming.
where are we? freer and freer, we gyre
only half up, kites breaking
loose, with our frills of laughter flaking
away in the wind. make the criers a choir,
singing god! that resurgently waking
may bear on its waters the head and the lyre.

The seven compositions on this album, written between 2022 and 2024, form a conceptual suite and an observance of the mental dances that we construct to understand acts of passage; the ways that we commune and memorialize and carry symbols back into the world beyond representation.

To this end, THE HEAD AS FORM'D IN THE CRIER'S CHOIR engages two references to the ancient Greek myth of Orpheus: Rainer Maria Rilke’s Sonnets to Orpheus, a collection of poems from 1922, and Claudio Monteverdi’s l’Orfeo, an early baroque opera from 1607. The myth of Orpheus tells the story of a musician who, grief stricken by the passing of his wife, Eurydice, descends to Hades to persuade the deity of the dead for her return. Along the way, Orpheus seduces those who would block his passage with the deeply lamenting music he conjures from his lyre. Hades agrees but with one condition: Orpheus is not to turn around and look at Eurydice until the pair once again breach the world of the living. Not surprisingly, as they approach the surface, Orpheus grows anxious and turns around to confirm Eurydice’s presence behind him, therein sending her back to the underworld forever. As the story goes, Orpheus then sings for death to take him away; with his wish finally granted by a group of maenads, Orpheus’ detached head and his lyre float down the river, continuing their mournful song.

For many years, I sought to largely separate my studio practice from my live performance practice, with the awareness that the unique limitations and possibilities of each domain were almost sacred to their individual characters. THE HEAD AS FORM'D IN THE CRIER'S CHOIR is a supplement of sorts to TWO SISTERS (2022) and ANTIPHONALS (2021), which were attempts to begin bridging this gap between the fixed electroacoustic pieces that emerge in the studio context and the somewhat open and slow-paced chamber writing that I do, in which each performance presents a new structure and in which each iteration offers the path to a new composition and deeper meaning. I am, as always, greatly indebted to the talented and incredibly sensitive musicians who appear on this album, many of whom are regular interpreters of my music: Andrew McIntosh (viola, Los Angeles), Mattie Barbier (trombone, Los Angeles), Lisa McGee (mezzo-soprano, Los Angeles), Pierre-Yves Martel (viola da gamba, Montréal), Eyvind Kang (viola d’amore, Los Angeles), and Rebecca Lane (bass flute, Berlin), Sam Dunscombe (bass clarinet, Berlin), Michiko Ogawa (bass clarinet, Berlin), M.O. Abbott (trombone, Berlin), and Weston Olencki (trombone, Berlin) of the Harmonic Space Orchestra (Winds). For my part, I again return to my favourite keyboard instruments on this album: Mellotron (in particular, the brass and woodwind samples that I so adore), electric organ (the Korg CX-3), synthesizer (the Prophet 5 and Korg PS-3100, which are both extremely useful in their tuning capabilities), and, of course, pipe organ.

There are four pipe organs featured on this album: a mechanical-action instrument built by Tamburini in 1968, located in the Basilica di Santa Maria dei Servi of Bologna, Italy; an electric-action instrument built by Veikko Virtanen in 1969, located in the Temppeliaukio Church of Helsinki, Finland; a meantone mechanical-action instrument built by John Brombaugh in 1981, located at Oberlin College’s Fairchild Chapel in Oberlin, Ohio, USA; and, a mechanical-action instrument built by Aristide Cavaillé-Coll in 1864, located in the Église du Gesù of Toulouse, France. The organ pieces on THE HEAD AS FORM'D IN THE CRIER'S CHOIR focus more heavily on the instruments’ pedals as well as the textural variations made possible by the mechanical tracker actions that most possess. The Brombaugh organ at Oberlin College offered a particularly meaningful compositional opportunity both in its use of the meantone temperament that was typical of the early seventeenth-century organ designs it’s based on, and in its use of split accidental keys, which accommodate for the lack of enharmonic equivalence in an extended meantone system. ‘Possente Spirto’ is a loose conceptual reference to the aria ‘Possente spirto, e formidabil nume’ in l’Orfeo. As in Monteverdi’s version, my piece also emphasizes the use of strings and brass and observes a particular order in which they enter and exit, and also incorporates a sort of continuo framework. I depart from there to focus on a slow-moving chord progression and its variations in voicing, inspired by renaissance concepts of harmony as a vertical structure, set within a standard quarter-comma meantone temperament. The piece employs the same structure that I use in most of my chamber writing, where each iteration of a performance is slightly different, calling on players to respond in real time and engage in a more direct form of listening. Several different colours of interval are heard throughout: the typical meantone minor third of 310 cents, the wolf minor third of 269 cents, the wolf fifth of 738 cents, and finally the standard meantone major third of 386 cents, which is one of a few intervals that this tuning system shares with just intonation. As with essentially all of THE HEAD AS FORM'D IN THE CRIER'S CHOIR, this piece is also quite variable in duration. ‘Trio for a Ground’ continues this feeling of partitioned instrumentation, with the organ providing the continuo throughout and the choir handing off to a duo of strings. In this recording, I chose to work with baroque strings – the viola da gamba and the viola d’amore, the latter of which incorporates a set of sympathetic strings that exist entirely for resonance. ‘Res Sub Rosa’ was composed specifically for a wind quintet formation of Berlin’s Harmonic Space Orchestra, and employs a system of septimal just intonation as well as a similarly variable structure that allows the players some discretion in how the piece is shaped at any given moment and which encourages different harmonic and acoustic encounters in each performance. ‘Constants’ functions as an electronic counterpoint to ‘Res Sub Rosa’, substituting human decisions with the natural interruption and decay cycles of sound-on-sound tape delay to achieve a similar sense of pacing and unpredictability.

- Sarah Davachi, 2024

Influenced by the minimal music of the 60s and 70s, baroque music, and experimentation in studio environments, Canadian artist Sarah Davachi creates music using a variety of sounds including analog synthesizers, piano, electronic organ, pipe/reed organ, vocals, tape samplers, and orchestral music. Sarah Davachi, a Canadian artist who creates music with a variety of sounds, including piano, electronic organ, pipe/lead organ, vocals, tape sampler, and orchestral music, has released her latest album "Two Sisters" on her Late Music label. The album features a chamber ensemble and a pipe organ solo. A variety of instruments are used, including carillon (a keyboard instrument composed of very large cast-iron bells), chorus, string quartet, bass woodwinds, trombone quartet, and sine tones and electronic drones. The pipe organ is a 1742 Italian tracker organ, now located in the deserts of the American Southwest, and contains the sounds of a very rare pipe organ.

An EP released in 2015 featuring an experimental concept of computer-controlled acoustic instruments. Its minimal, fragmentary compositions retain the physical resonance of piano and drums while crafting rhythms and phrases impossible for human hands. This peculiar sonic world, like a robot's improvised performance, possesses an avant-garde quality resonating with contemporary music and sound art. An important work regarded as emblematic of Aphex Twin's “experimental spirit.”

In Walter Benjamin’s seminal essay “Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”, he posits that the aura of art objects is destroyed by the ability to photographically reproduce them. When you had to make a pilgrimage to a work it remained elusive, charged, ever distant; but when you can easily see a reproduction, such aura dissipates. What Benjamin did not anticipate is that in the age of AI and the frictionless fount of digital content, we have imbued mechanical and analog means of media production with aura. Film cameras from the last 100 years are in high demand (the point and shoot Olympus Mju I featured in Wim Wenders film Perfect Days still sells for $200), vinyl sales continue to grow year by year, 35mm and 70mm film screenings have become aura-drenched events people travel across country for, and as to the world of vintage and analog synthesizers, when a friend asked for the price on the Yamaha CS-80 synth used on Toto’s “Africa”, the answer was a cool $60,000. Despite the ability to simulate almost any synthesizer on a computer, the original physical units retain their mystique. Perhaps this lies in the physical process, many of these synths are temperamental and difficult to fully utilize, and the effort and ingenuity can be felt in ways that will always be absent from easy digital simulacra. Perhaps there is an aura in their imperfection, as Brian Eno wrote: “Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit - all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided.” Some may call this nostalgia, but such sonic imperfections are the sounds of humans interacting with the physical world, and it is understandable to feel a pang of emotion and attachment in a time of exponential alienation. Marche 22 was recorded over a week at the Museo Del Synth Marchigiano in Macerata, Italy. The museum is filled with rare and obscure synths (especially CRB, GEM & Elka) as well as salvaged materials from a nearby shuttered Farfisa organ factory, including MARS, an unfinished realtime audio processing application developed by IRIS - similar to the now well known MAX/MSP. Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein play a suite of pieces that encompasses the last sixty years of synthesizer music—there are nods to Cluster, Tangerine Dream, Jean Michel Jarre, and Morton Subotnick. Dixon and Stein are like jazz masters playing the American songbook with their own riffs and quotations. What shines through in these varied works that are sometimes rhythmic, sometimes melancholic, and sometimes both, is a soul, a spirit, an emotion vibrating through the tones like the charge of coming rain or the thrum of a distant train on the tracks.

Sun Electric - the legendary Berlin duo of Tom Thiel and Max Loderbauer - returns with Episodes, an enticing new album. While the pair has been active and creating over the years (remember their track 'Every Now And Then' on the 10 Years De:tuned compilation in 2019), Episodes marks their first album of original material in nearly 20 years. Now, with a renewed way of working together, they present fresh and captivating music on the Belgian De:tuned label, built from recordings made with the vintage 1960s Subharchord Synthesizer. Across 6 tracks, Sun Electric takes listeners on a strange yet wonderful journey through shifting moods and sonic textures, capturing their unmistakable sense of exploration and atmosphere. With kind support of the Studio for Electroacoustic Music of the Akademie der Kunste. Stay tuned!

The eminently watchable Accidental Meetings introduce extended family member, Lovely Dave, with a real guess-again mixtape (the first in a series) refracting myriad strains of blissed synths, outernational jazz, new wave pop, post punk scuzz, screwed club and dub Six years into Accidental Meetings’ serendipitous plot, we know to expect anything and everything from the Bristol label, so long as it's got a unique soul and does not bore. Lovely Dave ideally plays true to that brief on his 99 minute mixtape, effortlessly glyding from outernational synth folk to a killer Curtis Mayfield cover via everything from thumb piano meditations, jazz-funked sidewinders, and a proto-new beat bomb on the A-side, before swerving from gothic new wave to smudged minimal wave audities, a pitch-slapped batacuda house ace, and meter-messing skronk on the backside. Brilliantly strange but true!

If Surround can be listened to as music that’s as close to air itself, allowing us to enter each listener’s sound scenery, or as something that exists within a new perspective, expanding the middle ground between sound and music, and transforming it into a comfortable space, it would be much appreciated. — Hiroshi Yoshimura Originally released as an album in January 1986, Surround was recorded by Yoshimura as a commission from home builder Misawa Homes, intended to function as an “amenity” designed to enhance the company’s newly built living spaces. In his original notes for the album, Yoshimura recommends that Surround be placed in the same family of sounds “as the vibration of footsteps, the hum of an air conditioner, or the clanging of a spoon inside a coffee cup.” And, as he suggests, “with the addition of city noise from outside the window,” you may hear Surround in a completely new way. A pioneer in the field of environmental music, Yoshimura’s previous works included Music For Nine Post Cards (1982), originally produced to be played back inside a museum space, and designing sound environments for public spaces and subway systems. Surround was recorded almost concurrently with the acclaimed and popular GREEN (1986); the two albums are described by Hiroyoshi Shiokawa in his liner notes as being Yoshimura’s yin and yang.

Bismillah was composed in a small house surrounded by the forest of Montmirail in France. The album is built around modular synths, field recordings, and an old organ discovered in a nearby village. In Sara’s work, the organ’s sustained tones meet a lyrical introspection, articulated with precision and vulnerability. The slow permutation of patterns creates an atmosphere where time and space melt into a pure, constant present. Inspired by the pastoral setting, the sequencing used to animate the modules feels almost instinctive. In dialogue with the calls of merle birds, the sound cycles grow more complex over time, with DIY drum-machine loops and distorted field recordings adding an unpredictable counterpoint. On the cover, bushes, trees, and owl shadows were photographed in the very place where the album was composed. Simple melodies appear and disappear, mirroring the subtle movements and shadows of the surrounding landscape.

On their second album together, Vilnius-based Indonesian composer and instrument builder Johanes "Mo’ong" Santoso Pribadi, best known as one half of Raja Kirik, and Berlin-based Japanese producer Shigeru Ishihara (aka Scotch Rolex) survey their surroundings, dreaming up a vibrant fantasy landscape that teems with life. Manifesting their personal experiences as a sequence of poetic freeform experiments and dancefloor rituals, the duo realize a vast patchwork of resonant, anomalous sonic environments that form a mystifying new landmass. Pribadi and Ishihara see 'ABU' as a guide of sorts to an imaginary volcanic island that they've consolidated from the various physical locations and psychic topographies that have formed their separate identities. Constantly shifting, the "island of ash" vanishes between the borders of the three core sites where it was recorded - in Yogyakarta, Švenčionėliai and Berlin - absorbing local soundscapes and intermingling them, forming unstable, hallucinatory terrain. "On 'ABU', identity dissolves like sound in fog," they explain. "What remains is the pulse of movement, the echo of a voice crossing water and the endless reconstruction of home through noise." This might sound like familiar territory for Pribadi, who's worked extensively with Javanese traditional sounds, rupturing the timeline on 2021's acclaimed 'Rampokan', but for Ishihara it's a more alien process. While the producer has rallied against genre purity for decades, haphazardly searching out the sweet spot between breakcore, trap, dub, chiptune, hardcore and extreme noise, he's rarely examined his own cultural inheritance. So, once the duo had engaged with gamelan in Yogyakarta, working with found objects and self-built instruments, and channeled the Baltic air in Švenčionėliai into breathwork and vocal experiments, they finally reconvened in Berlin where Ishehara allowed himself to reconnect with the rituals, rhythms and soundscapes of Japan. Watching the island of 'ABU' flood with lava, burn and then regenerate itself, Ishihara handled the final mixdown himself, translating the pulse of taiko into rhythmic shockwaves that punctuate the record, echoing through the volcanic topsoil. The resulting record isn't Indonesian or Japanese, European or Asian, it's a sonic ecosystem that's not fixed on any map, floating perpetually. That means the tense, ceremonial atmosphere of opening track 'Hai no uta' isn't all it might appear to be on first blush. An intermixture of Javanese gong hits, rattling wooden percussion and xenharmonic flute blasts thats interspersed with unsettling electronic vibrations, it sounds unusually biomechanical: live and organic, and at the same time meticulously terraformed. The same feeling emerges as the title track takes shape and hoarse chants roll over the duo's unique cocktail of rhythms: tuned, gamelan-like resonances tumble through ordered electro-plated taiko structures, evolving into fractured free improv and harmonizing with syrupy drone metal before the track's complete. And while there's a sense of coherence throughout, the album keeps shifting, fluctuating every time it's properly perceived. On 'Api', the tense ceremonial sounds seem to flirt with hard dance textures, inviting heavy electronic kicks into the mannered mass of flutes and metallophone hits. And on the deafening 'Hino-Tori', Pribadi and Ishehara are no longer teasing, matching their shouts and acoustic instrumentation with carnivalesque synths and hardstyle rhythms. 'ABU' is an island that rewards the boldest wanderers, providing for those who can meet its energy head-on, drifting between continents with the same friction, the same mess of harmonies and dissonances. Wash up on its shores with an open mind and its mechanical tides and digital rituals will reshape your wildest hallucinations.

Heat Crimes follow that Father Dionysios Tabakis smash with Terskol’s debut album of coldly cavernous, crushing and ionzied slabs of Turkish sludge doom, recorded 2017-21 on modular synths and a knackered drum machine and highly advised to acolytes of Godflesh, Sunn O))), Joachim Nordwall, Muslimgauze, Kevin Richard Martin. Joining the label’s necklace of sore thumbs, the eponymous entry from Utku Önal aka Terskol exists at a crossroads of styles combined in ways that surely recalls the number of greats mentioned above, but also with an uncanny concision and metallic resonance that leaves ice burns to the touch. Not really rock, nor fully electronic; it’s best conceived as a sort of primordial cyborganic force of nature certain to find its audience lurking in the shadows of convention. Arguably; it’s the heaviest release in the label’s half decade run thus far; 11 uncompromising payloads of glacially-paced lurch defined with shivered machine drums and radioactive reverb, prone to keen from doomscapes evoking a fantasy Stephen O’Malley x Bryn Jones hookup, to bouts of horror score vamps and barbed distortion, into passages of burned-out bliss thru to sky-razing, warmonger riffs. As with the likes of Avenir’s ‘90s electronica on the label before them, Terskol’s formerly unreleased musick is effectively new to the world at large and feels like a missing link on the timeline, nailing a combo of styles with a cloistered vision that leaves the impression it was never really intended for wider consumption. After marinading in the archive for so long it’s all clearly ripe for ritual cleansing, pulling heads wholly into unheimlich zones of seething amp worship on ‘WMEMWAMS’, and setting fire to the air in the ambient sludge of ‘9A’, hackling like theeee nastiest Godflesh in ‘Backstepper’, and with a prescient title ‘Bedroht’ to sure to snag Gen-Z doomscrollers.

Prophetic Perfect Tense is the new album on Kou Records by Oren Ambarchi - Australian guitarist, founder of Black Truffle Records, and one of the most restlessly inventive figures in experimental music over the last three decades. Recorded at Studio D ede in Tokyo in January 2026 and produced by Randall Dunn, the album finds Ambarchi at his most stripped back: solo guitar, two sides, two single takes, minimal effects - running through a Leslie cab, Fender Twin, and Ampeg B-15 into a Telefunken 24-track, with amp hum, fret squeaks, and room noise left intact. While his studio records have typically been conceptual, layered affairs with guest collaborators, Prophetic Perfect Tense breaks that pattern entirely - by his own account, the most conventionally guitar-sounding solo record he has ever made, and the closest he has come in a studio context to the live, in-the-room energy of his Ghosted trio. A record that sounds like a room.

Aaron Dilloway presents No Skill Comedy Mind Reading, a disorienting collection of solo work developed over nearly a decade. The former Wolf Eyes member and Hanson Records founder twists field recordings, feedback, tape hiss, vocal improvisation and electronics into music that veers between harsh noise and absurdist humour. Influenced by Alvin Lucier, cult horror film The Weirdo and composer Hugo Montenegro, the album also draws on Dilloway’s fascination with sound poetry and degraded cassettes. The result is deliberately unstable: strange voices, static blasts, drones and fractured rhythms assembled into a surreal, frequently unnerving whole.

etting aside the dread-soaked UK atmosphere of his Karkossyn moniker, Tavis Hitchcock introduces Grandma Love. In stark contrast to his previous work, Grandma Love welcomes listeners home for a warm, hearty stew just before the streetlights come on. Drawing from childhood nostalgia, Cornish summers, and family day trips, Hitchcock pulls the plug on a reservoir of mood and atmosphere that sits somewhere between post-club sofa lounging and early morning coffee mug steam. Following his appearance on Northfield Records' Gilbert Road EP with the track "A2," this self-titled debut album dawns the opening chapter in the Grandma Love story. Filled with field recordings, delicate percussion, washed-out pads, and fragments of home-video VHS recordings, the album opens a time capsule of lost memories, coastal daydreams, and a longing for a time washed far away with the tide.

etting aside the dread-soaked UK atmosphere of his Karkossyn moniker, Tavis Hitchcock introduces Grandma Love. In stark contrast to his previous work, Grandma Love welcomes listeners home for a warm, hearty stew just before the streetlights come on. Drawing from childhood nostalgia, Cornish summers, and family day trips, Hitchcock pulls the plug on a reservoir of mood and atmosphere that sits somewhere between post-club sofa lounging and early morning coffee mug steam. Following his appearance on Northfield Records' Gilbert Road EP with the track "A2," this self-titled debut album dawns the opening chapter in the Grandma Love story. Filled with field recordings, delicate percussion, washed-out pads, and fragments of home-video VHS recordings, the album opens a time capsule of lost memories, coastal daydreams, and a longing for a time washed far away with the tide.

Oakland, CA — Talking in a Different Way is the debut full-length release of sachi’s mirror, the creative alias of multi-instrumentalist, producer, and composer Shaina Pan. Melding disparate elements of ambient, electronic, dream-pop, and avant-garde classical, Pan beckons us into sonic worlds equally enigmatic and emotive. Across a collection of self-produced songs and vignettes that began to take form during a month-long residency in Vallejo, CA in the spring of 2025, she explores a theme of constant and quiet evolution, posing the question: What are we if the world we were born into no longer exists? How do we relate to one another and ourselves? Using field recordings and looped textures as sonic blueprints, she patiently constructs dimly lit, spiraling paths that simultaneously churn inward towards memory and outward towards the cosmos. Pan studied violin performance at Indiana University and the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, specializing in contemporary classical music. After nearly two decades of performing in classical ensembles, Pan left the path to becoming a symphony violinist, burnt out and frustrated by a culture of rigidity. She settled in Oakland where she eventually began writing and performing in post-punk quartet Juicebumps. Emboldened by her peers in the Bay Area scene, she found herself shifting towards composition and improvisation, using her violin, voice, and laptop to explore electroacoustic composition. From those efforts emerged room to receive, her 2025 debut EP on Cone Shape Top Imprint. Talking in a Different Way arrives one year later on Constellation Tatsu, a woozy 35-minute spell sparkling with the same experimental spirit, this time with moody sampled textures, gossamer string arrangements, and Pan’s vocals at the fore.

Oakland, CA — Talking in a Different Way is the debut full-length release of sachi’s mirror, the creative alias of multi-instrumentalist, producer, and composer Shaina Pan. Melding disparate elements of ambient, electronic, dream-pop, and avant-garde classical, Pan beckons us into sonic worlds equally enigmatic and emotive. Across a collection of self-produced songs and vignettes that began to take form during a month-long residency in Vallejo, CA in the spring of 2025, she explores a theme of constant and quiet evolution, posing the question: What are we if the world we were born into no longer exists? How do we relate to one another and ourselves? Using field recordings and looped textures as sonic blueprints, she patiently constructs dimly lit, spiraling paths that simultaneously churn inward towards memory and outward towards the cosmos. Pan studied violin performance at Indiana University and the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, specializing in contemporary classical music. After nearly two decades of performing in classical ensembles, Pan left the path to becoming a symphony violinist, burnt out and frustrated by a culture of rigidity. She settled in Oakland where she eventually began writing and performing in post-punk quartet Juicebumps. Emboldened by her peers in the Bay Area scene, she found herself shifting towards composition and improvisation, using her violin, voice, and laptop to explore electroacoustic composition. From those efforts emerged room to receive, her 2025 debut EP on Cone Shape Top Imprint. Talking in a Different Way arrives one year later on Constellation Tatsu, a woozy 35-minute spell sparkling with the same experimental spirit, this time with moody sampled textures, gossamer string arrangements, and Pan’s vocals at the fore.

Originally released in 2016 on Constellation Tatsu, Body Trip introduced Japanese ambient composer H. Takahashi’s quietly immersive approach to minimal electronic composition. Built from delicate synth tones, meditative repetition, and understated melodic movement, the album has become a lasting favorite within contemporary ambient circles. Over the past decade, Takahashi has developed an internationally respected body of work spanning releases such as Raum, Low Power, Escapism, Elegy, and Paleozoic. Beyond his solo output, he has collaborated through projects including UNKNOWN ME, ATORIS, and H TO O, contributed music for installations and exhibitions, and performed throughout Japan’s experimental and ambient music communities. Body Trip (Remixed & Remastered) revisits the original 2016 album with a newly remastered edition alongside reinterpretations from a cross-generational group of contemporary electronic artists. The collection connects H. Takahashi’s meditative ambient language with artists working across contemporary experimental electronics, dub-informed minimalism, ambient techno, and modern new age composition, extending the album’s original aesthetic into a broader contemporary context. Fans and listeners have frequently described Takahashi’s music as calming, minimal, comforting, and deeply transportive, with recent online discussions continuing to highlight Body Trip and Escapism as standout works in modern Japanese ambient music.

Originally released in 2016 on Constellation Tatsu, Body Trip introduced Japanese ambient composer H. Takahashi’s quietly immersive approach to minimal electronic composition. Built from delicate synth tones, meditative repetition, and understated melodic movement, the album has become a lasting favorite within contemporary ambient circles. Over the past decade, Takahashi has developed an internationally respected body of work spanning releases such as Raum, Low Power, Escapism, Elegy, and Paleozoic. Beyond his solo output, he has collaborated through projects including UNKNOWN ME, ATORIS, and H TO O, contributed music for installations and exhibitions, and performed throughout Japan’s experimental and ambient music communities. Body Trip (Remixed & Remastered) revisits the original 2016 album with a newly remastered edition alongside reinterpretations from a cross-generational group of contemporary electronic artists. The collection connects H. Takahashi’s meditative ambient language with artists working across contemporary experimental electronics, dub-informed minimalism, ambient techno, and modern new age composition, extending the album’s original aesthetic into a broader contemporary context. Fans and listeners have frequently described Takahashi’s music as calming, minimal, comforting, and deeply transportive, with recent online discussions continuing to highlight Body Trip and Escapism as standout works in modern Japanese ambient music.

The album opens at dusk with an imagined final stop before departure, a roadside gas station just as daylight fades. This introductory scene, conceived as “Last Gas Station Before the Horizon,” places the listener amid passing cars, distant seagulls, and the low hum of anticipation. The idea is to frame the record as part of a radio program, potentially guided by a radio announcer’s voice drifting in and out of the soundscape. From there, the journey moves fully into night. Tracks progress like signals picked up along the drive, calm, reflective, and gently nostalgic, until the album’s closing moment. “Peaceful Blue” represents arrival at the final destination at dawn, when the sky shifts into a deep blue and the listener waits quietly for the sun to rise and a new day to begin. Transcoastal Night Drive is an album about motion, atmosphere, and memory, less a narrative than a feeling, inviting listeners to settle into the drive and let the night pass by.

Previously released on Low Company in 2023, Purely Physical Teeny Tapes reissue the full album from Tarquin Manek, one of the most prolific, distinct and perhaps under-recognised producers in our orbit. If bezonked, subaquatic dub-pop zoners are your thing, anything from The Skaters to Swell Maps, YL Hooi to Carla dal Forno, CS + Kreme to Jac Berrocal, this one’s for you. The 16th and final number from short-lived yet beloved London shop-turned-label Low Company renders a raft of works made by Tarquin Manek (F Ingers, Kallista Kult, Tarcar) 2013-2020, and shafted in the release schedule until now. Nine songs depict Tarquin in his soggiest songwriting mode, floating over rugged, groggy loops in a rare, non-collaborative form. It’s a captivating self-portrait of an artist who is perhaps best known for his collaborations and work behind the scenes, variously fostering talents from the Naarm (Melbourne) undergrowth such as YL Hooi and Carla dal Forno, the latter of whom was his bandmate in F Ingers alongside Sam Karmel of CS + Kreme, and many of whom would grace Low Company and its cult predecessor Blackest Ever Black. A sense of desiccated bliss riddles the bittersweet fantasy tang of ‘Breathing Under Honey’, where Manek sets a course from the bleached coral underfoot on ‘Stones on the Beach’, to a lizard-hipped bossa shuffle on ‘Mirage Game’, via superb bouts of Count Ossie-meets-Spencer Clark whims on ’Submerging Emergency’, thru Hassellian trumpet gargling in the sink on ‘Sea Slug Bender’, to instrumental cyberpunk sea shanty, ‘Age Old Squall’, or coming across Lewis on a jolly with drunken sailors at a late night Berlin bar on ‘Basic Trouble’. Of course it all hits that crinkled sweetspot for levels of eyes-half-shut perpendicular pop that we’ve come to expect from Low Company and their constellation of affiliates, joining dots between the ahead-of-their-time ‘80s post punk tape oddities that surface on Efficient Space, A Colourful Storm’s febrile dream sequences, to rickety DIY bops from the London mulch. Laters, Low Company - a proper bunch of sound cnuts.

Buenos Aires composer Ignacio Sandoval, aka YOTO, returns to London's Kit Records with a new album of dismantled Argentinian folk music. Taking root at the border between Latin American folk tradition and the kiln of Buenos Aires' distinctly bustling experimental arts scene, Ciprés is a loose-limbed collection of elegiac storytelling. Guitar remains at the heart of YOTO's practice; each piece on Ciprés began life as a miniature improvisation, recorded in real time then gently adorned with splintering melodies of marimba and xylophone, and funereal marching percussion. The results form a series of private moments; internal sculptures and scenes that speak to the intimacy and solitude of domestic life. Like fellow Argentinian boundary-pushers Aylu and Vic Bang, YOTO's previous work bubbled with a fermented maximalism (see "Levure"). In contrast, Ciprés alludes to weathered forms - dialogues that fork, disintegrate and improbably rekindle, like aerial roots feeling their way through an ancient city wall. When Sandoval's voice does appear - on "Viento De Otoño" - it casts a dappled, swaying shadow..