Electronic / Experimental

"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.

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.

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.

Enigmatic label/collective life is beautiful fully establishes its lore on a colossal 3LP sprawl: 39 tracks of whimsical outsider biz arcing from lo-fi strums to asymmetric pop, jazz improv, poetry, noise, abstract hip-hop, spoken word and whatever else captures the thing, from artists you'll know and a fair few you won’t, featuring Bianca Scout, aloisius, VOICE ACTOR, James Massiah, Kenichi Iwasa, THE NARRATOR, Isaiah Hull, Pretty V and many, many more. A self-styled gesamtkunstwerk, life is beautiful was established by aloisius in 2022 as a radio show, before turning into a collective, a series of live performances, and then inevitably a record label a year later. Their first comp makes some attempt to pull all their various strands into something cohesive, but like many of the best collectives - Mica Levi’s Curl crew for example - so much of the beauty and joy comes from following the breadcrumb trail deep into wherever they take you. This is a label, after all, that dumped their demos and experiments ("resources and inspiration") on a file exchange portal on their own site, so you get the idea that nothing is quite fixed, and there are no easy answers - just the pleasure of tagging along for the ride. The set opens with tracks from each of the founders, who establish the label's core sound. NWAKKE begins with 'i need you in a positive way', a cloudy hypnagogic R&B marvel that juxtaposes cool-headed vocal runs with tape-fucked field recordings and piano. Then, the mic's handed to Amber Joy, aka THE NARRATOR, who also serves as the label's artistic director; on 'SUDDENLY', she oozes a skittish post-everything collage that chops cheap synths and choral vocals into a dreamy modern hymn. aloisus' 'you are god' runs out of its stuck groove as if it emerges from the very same thought, blurring gospel moans across LinnDrum loops. Bianca Scout hands us a taster of her collaborative work with London's Cajm on the hypnotic 'Welcome to Hello', while poet Isaiah Hull teams up with y+Your for the wonked 'vampire money'. Basically there's a whole record of music from the crew before 'veneration...' even begins in earnest, and it only gets better from here, running through aesthetic experiments from multi-instrumentalist Kenichi Iwasa, self-styled "beat wizard" psychedelic ensemble. (who's one half of Brum's Everything is Psychedelic with Tony Bontana) and Thom Dehli before we reach the compilation's crown jewel, a 21-minute live jam from okk70 ensemble. We can't tell you exactly who's playing, but it's worth the price of entry alone, a squirming slo-mo jazz side that gets to the roots of the life is beautiful sound - like some cross between ’87 era Prince and Oren Ambarchi’s Ghosted Trio, except deep in the basement. Elsewhere, there's a chewably eccentric solo moment from Bianca Scout ('superscribe 24'), a phenomenally moody collaboration between VOICE ACTOR and aloisius ('24'), a spirited, lo-fi transmission from London's josiane pozi and a deeper than deep jam from orchestra379, aloisius' "collective improvisation project" that's featured artists like Ben Vince, Kenichi Iwasa and abi asisa. Label comps are often a slog but this one's stuffed to the gills with genuinely creative experimentation from some of the scene's most interesting outsiders, the sprawl really does come close to harnessing the vibe.

cv313’s Altering Illusions returns with five signature cuts alongside a rare, otherworldly dub from the elusive Radius project. Mixed and recorded in Detroit, the collection distils cv313’s deep, reductionist techno into long-form, analogue meditations. Remastered by Stefan Betke (Pole) at Scape Mastering, the sound is given renewed depth and clarity without losing its raw, submerged character. This edition also introduces an additional piece drawn from the interpolation tapes series, pushing further into cavernous low-end and hypnotic repetition. Across its runtime, Altering Illusions moves with patience and weight, built from sub-bass pressure, minimal structure, and finely tuned atmospherics—hallmarks of cv313’s enduring approach to dub techno.

Rattly, stripped-to-the-bone IDM gear that harks back to simpler times, BOT1500's second proper album is simple and elegant, more concerned with the emotional weight of its melodies than the complexity of its beats. You might remember Shinichi Koboyashi's last BOT1500 album 'Surreal', that appeared back in 2022 on AD93's Lith Dolina sublabel. And since then he's been relentlessly prolific on his Bandcamp, issuing regular single track updates that chart his creative process. But 'The Black Sea' is his first longer set in a while, assembling a handful of tracks that highlight his recent interest in minimalism, emotion and dub production techniques. The familiar monosynth groans and dry, jazzy breaks on 'Abstract Springs' might resemble Squarepusher for a moment, but it's much chillier, sparser gear, with space around each element that softens the impact of the hyperactive edits. And on 'Shadows', that same mood pervades the track even when the beats have been silenced; Koboyashi gives just as much importance to his chiming analog synths, coaxing out fragile melodies that sound as if they've been plucked out of time. And there's a precision to his programming that's immediately impressive. On 'XB 1', his soft focus glitches and woody hits graze the post-dubstep landscape but subtly reframe it, setting the meticulous rhythms against echoing single note sine hits and melancholy pads. And the track's sequel 'XB 2' is an even harder punch to the gut, with exquisite melodies and knife-edge drums that shuttle us right back to 1996 for a moment, an underground dominated by Clear Records, Spymania and Rephlex.

The new opus on Macadam Mambo is a very special double LP by the Italian artist Oltrefuturo. Inspired by the Adriatic Sea where he is coming from, Valerio (Oltrefuturo) composed 8 tracks in between Ambient, Dub and Downtempo full of emotions reflecting his environment. The Music is gorgeous with special vocals and atmospheric lines, and very cool down beats. It’s an album to listen at home but it can easily be played in the club at the right moment (check the tracks “Die Kosmmische Trance” and “Ritmo Tre”). 8 long tracks specially pressed on 2 vinyls for a louder sound. TIP!

An ode to a very good girl, Luna. It is my hope this record is soothing and trippy because it is trippy how soothing she is to me ºo∞Oº

Epic 2 hour trip of astral-planing, ambient psychedelia shimmering with displaced traces of pop, slurred acid grooves and ample flange. Definitely one for the road or rail trip this summer, and FFO The KLF, Fennesz, Jefre Cantu-Ledesma, Eno. “From the edges of a hallucinatory torpor, Rue des Garderies continue their explorations in psychedelia — Femacosmé presents here a new piece recorded live at the Pe:rsona festival, at Domaine des Éveils in the summer of 2025. An adventure guided by blur, the intangible, the impermanent, where layers, voices, sounds, and organic and synthetic echoes resonate, emerge, then fade away — as if to deceive reality, or at least our perception of it. More than two semi-improvised hours in which Rue des Garderies (Sweetzak, Désiré Bonaventure & Vasco Cesaretti) summon us to an astral yet motionless journey — somewhere between ambient, IDM, and post-pop.”

After a successful run of early EPs and his debut double LP You!, Producer and Singer-Sing Writer Alek Lee returns to Antinote with his new album Like a Flower — an 8-track journey (plus 3 digital bonus dubs) that feels like open-heart surgery. With raw vulnerability, Lee exposes his deepest fears, pain, and inspirations, singing straight from the gut, but also sending words of inspiration and hope. From dub-infused vibes like the opening track Alright featuring My Lord, to grungy ‘90s trip-hop stylings on Compensation and the title track Like a Flower, the album showcases Alek’s wide emotional and sonic range. He shifts seamlessly into smoky, Sade-esque moods on tracks like Change, Let the Sun Just Shine, and Hold On — intimate ballads exploring heartbreak and existential reflection. With his signature blend of melodica, live percussion, guitars, vocal choirs, and lush '80s synths, Alek Lee locks you into his unique sonic universe. His brutally honest, yet deceptively simple lyrics are dressed as balearic dub-pop bangers.

On Everything You Giveaway, Pablo’s Eye turn Richard Skinner’s seaside vignette into a drifting meditation on loss and camouflage, where a missing jade earring becomes a quiet parable about hiding what hurts in the very element that once held it.Everything You Giveaway feels like a record built around a single, small gesture: a woman sitting by the sea, unconsciously loosening one jade earring while the man beside her skims green pebbles into the waves. The moment passes almost unnoticed, but later, in bed, she discovers that one earring is gone. Instead of panic, she feels relief. In her mind’s eye, she sees it lying on the seabed, indistinguishable from the stones he threw. “The best place to hide a leaf is in a tree,” she thinks, echoing the logic at the heart of Richard Skinner’s poem “a remoteness from the centre” (from the light user scheme, Smokestack Books, 2013). That line – and the short narrative wrapped around it – becomes the emotional axis for Everything You Giveaway.In typical Pablo’s Eye fashion, the text is not treated as a literal script but as a set of images to be dissolved into sound. The waves breaking become slow, undulating pulses; the green pebbles, small percussive or melodic events that vanish almost as soon as they appear; the jade earrings, bright timbral flashes that suddenly go missing from the texture. The music hovers in a state of “remoteness from the centre,” circling around implied themes rather than landing on them. What matters is not the dramatic revelation of the loss, but the quiet, inward turn that follows – the sense that giving something away, or losing it, can sometimes feel like placing it more deeply inside the world, hidden in plain sight.The album’s title, Everything You Giveaway, makes Skinner’s line universal. It’s not just about earrings and pebbles, but about all the things we let slip – relationships, secrets, fears, versions of ourselves – and how they might be absorbed by the environments we move through. The seaside setting is both literal and metaphorical: a place at the edge, where solid ground meets shifting water, and where it’s easy to imagine objects sinking out of view, merging with their surroundings. Pablo’s Eye use this as a frame for their sound-world: a gentle, porous music where elements arrive, mingle and recede, and where the distinction between foreground and background is constantly eroded.This approach aligns with the group’s long-standing interest in spoken word, ambient drift and cinematic suggestion. Here, the poem’s final line operates almost like a compositional rule: hide things in their own element. Melodies surface only to dissolve back into textures that resemble them; voices appear briefly and then disappear into a murmur of similar frequencies; a motif is introduced, then later “lost” inside a denser arrangement. As listeners, we are invited to experience the same subtle shift the woman feels: the movement from anxiety to acceptance, from clinging to an object to recognising its place in a larger pattern.Everything You Giveaway thus becomes less a straightforward adaptation of Skinner’s poem than a kind of extended footnote to it. By dwelling on that moment by the sea – the waves breaking, the casual gestures, the delayed discovery – Pablo’s Eye offer a sonic meditation on how we hide, how we surrender, and how the world quietly absorbs everything we let go.

Really feeling this trippy acid treat by a one-of-a-kind Lolina; her 10th solo album since the last Hype Williams drop with Dean Blunt in the early 2010s, and typically riddled with low-key mischievous slants on mutant dance-pop, as heard in her regular midweek club night at ace London venue, Spanners. Chasing up her trip-hop tinted LP ‘Unrecognisable’ (2024), and a mix CD as Balmainjeans repping her club night ‘Distressed’, Lolina plays to an ideally unpredictable form with a shift into acid pop on ‘Monopoly of Mistakes’; featuring eleven concentrated formulations of dry drum machines x tweakiest 303 gunk gilded with those vocals that keep us coming back. The combo of silver box x slanted vox finds the DIY prism-pusher bending timelines thru lo-fi indie-pop with sound system steppas, basement noise, cold wave and free party acid tekno, but never quite settling into any one style. Maintaining her mutable range of variations within a theme, Monopoly of Mistakes really catches our breath with the way Lolina turns a paucity of ingredients into a dead satisfying thing. Whether commanding the 303 to the beat-less abstraction ‘Border Beach’ or alloying with wooziest keys and steppas fizz on ‘The Mercenaries’, or going deep into the lushest wormhole on the titular, 7 minute standout, her min-to-max sense of economy is key to this LP’s appeal. It’s there in the piquant synth-pop of ‘Menace’ and ‘Everlasting’ - think Wee Papa Girl Rappers via Dave Ball at John T. Gast’s - and calling to mind a lost SOPHIE x EVOL gem in ’Stand Off’. But it’s also finely measured with an utterly gorgeous new age miniature harking to classic Hype Williams on ‘Welcome to the Drift of Whats Already Begun’, and of course the zinging closer ‘Penalty’, where zippiest ‘80s french cold wave meets AFXian harmony and a sort of Dopplereffektish science-lab engineering in a chef’s kiss demo of the extended melodic wooo that sets all her work apart. Best believe it’s fully distinctive, addictive gear.

If – in some parallel universe (or perhaps a not-so-distant-future version of the one we’re already sentenced to living in) – the evil overloads of artificial intelligence were actually successful in their attempts to create convincingly enjoyable “original music,” more specifically tasked with wholly encapsulating my own personal tastes by data-chugging some cocktail of – oh, I don’t know – the posters on my wall, the records in my “most listened to” pile, the mixtapes I made for others, intensive physical scans of my auditory cortex, amygdala, hippocampus, heart strings, whatever else they have splayed out on their autopsy table with the intention of generating one all-encompassing “perfect band” based on the fruitful sum of their findings – that band, for me, would be (or would at least sound exactly like) the Tara Clerkin Trio. It is, quite simply, without exception, the music I wish to hear. Formed in Bristol UK (where none of them are from yet all of whom are deeply engrained) in 2020, the Tara Clerkin Trio – as it somewhat democratically exists today, despite the singular authority implied by its name – consists of the titular Tara Clerkin, her partner Sunny Joe Paradisos, and Sunny’s brother, Patrick Benjamin. I’ll confess, I don’t know what their respective roles are within the operation and there’s only a very small part of me that cares to learn, as one of my favorite qualities in an objective listening experience is the mystery of who is playing what, which sounds are “authentic” versus synthesized, which chunks are performed “live” in a room together versus meticulously Frankenstein’ed from measure to measure, or how exactly the overall sound is so (seemingly) effortlessly achieved. Though, I suspect, if and when I do witness a live performance by this band at any point, my enjoyment of the music will not be lost in my better understanding of it. With two extraordinary mini-albums – In Spring (2021) and On The Turning Ground (2023) – making a splash on London’s formidable World of Echo label in wake of their self-titled 2020 debut on Laura Lies In, this upcoming Somewhere Good LP is, in many ways, the band’s most realised work. In running their usual gauntlet of idiosyncratic (*an overused adjective for which here there is regrettably no sufficient alternative) approaches, Clerkin & co. color in and outside of compositional lines over the course of 40+ celebratory minutes - never wallowing, despite inherently somber subject matters of self-defeat, disease, displacement, restlessness, gentrification - allowing their arrangements and improvisations ample space and time to situate, stretch out, breathe, cross-pollinate, and ultimately take deeper hold on the listener’s imagination – all while somehow sounding more like themselves than ever before. Of course, there are traceable influences herein, if one felt that such comparisons were necessary to properly examine and enjoy this music (they aren’t)… Being the big dumb American from the small boring town that I am, cornfed on ‘90s alternative radio with the enchantingly exotic sounds of Maxinquaye and Mezzanine emanating from my chunky tube television, I can’t help but to make a blatantly obvious reference to a “Bristol sound”, ie the whole trip-hop trip, the pastoral crooning over the suggestive urban grime of cracked electro/piano treatments, the digitally-yet-primitively reconstructed James Bond soundtrack string-beats, etc.. But the Tara Clerkin Trio is so infinitely much more than that. There are elements of avant-pop, modern classical, kraut-folk, audio verité, dare I say indie rock (and not of the beer guzzling, masturbatory fuzz-flex variety but perhaps more like a Trish Keenan-fronted Faust, Adrian Sherwood at the mixing desk of If You’re Feeling Sinister, or – in expanding on our alternate reality – a world in which High Llamas cut a full-length for Warp Records with Andrew Weatherall on coffee duty). The hazy, unmappable skyline-mirage of droning harmonium, upright bass, peculiarly accentuated wind instruments, acoustic guitar, hushed yet literally mighty keys combine to hypnotizing effect. The band may make underlying nods to jazz, sure, but it’s not appropriation, it’s that they have the actual chops to build it out. Beneath the janky samples and oddball percussive embellishment lies actually great drumming. Beyond the manipulated vocal witchery and woefully reflective plain-spoke moments are Tara’s subtly inspired melodies, sung with what might honestly be the glue to the whole crazy equation. A calming consistency throughout the otherwise unpredictably dynamic, boldly intuitive, uniquely British exploration of this (their own) universe in song. – Ryan Davis (Chicago, February 2026)

Colombian artist Nicolás Vallejo aka Ezmeralda lands lands a cassette on Swedish label blundar. "Known for his deconstruction of traditional cumbias, Ezmeralda has become a defining voice in the Latin American ambient scene. His arrival at blundar marks an exciting cross-continental fusion, bringing his signature "post-impressionistic" soundscapes—a blend of fluid textures, synthesizers, and loops—to the Swedish imprint's curated electronic catalog."

Feedback Waves — the new imprint from independent label Rings of Neptune — is proud to present Trill, the first and only album by Palomatic. Almost thirty years after its original release on CD in 1995, this beautiful nine-track work is now available on vinyl for the first time. Palomatic is an alias of Koji Takahashi, an active member of the bubbling Japanese electronic music scene of the early-to-mid 90s. Besides his solo work, he was a core member of Takahashi Tektronix (with Nic Yoshizawa) and Mutron (with Kiyoshi Hazemoto, aka Interferon), as well as working as a synth programmer for supergroup Denki Groove. Following the release of his debut track ‘Halo’ on Syzygy Records in 1993, Takahashi made a series of contributions to compilations on the scene-defining Transonic label. His first and only full-length album, Trill, combined these tracks with original material to form an absorbing and versatile standalone statement of the Palomatic sound. From the oscillating lilt of ‘Flutter’, which opens proceedings at a measured 104bpm, through to the symphonic epilogue of ‘Soar’, Trill is rooted in the fertile territory between organic and synthetic sounds — ground that was nourishing the work of many likeminded producers worldwide at the time. West Coast psychedelia and East Coast funk, the moody bass weight of Bristol trip-hop and Sheffield bleep, and the chemical rush of German techno and Belgian trance: with a distinctly Japanese sensibility, Trill drew these strands together into an elegant musical tapestry. The result is timeless — indeed, album centrepiece ‘Foaming Waves’ would sound right at home on the faster-paced dancefloors of today.