Electronic / Experimental
3905 products
If you head north on 1-85 from Hillsborough, NC, and take the exit for 58 East, in fifteen minutes you'll reach Diamond Grove, a small unincorporated area in Brunswick County, Virginia on the Meherrin River. To most eyes, there's not much there—you'll have to drive to Lawrenceville for groceries or to South Hill for hardware. But hidden in this patch of Virginia piedmont are the remnants of a dairy farm established in the 1740s, its main house an old two up, two down beauty still outfitted with rope beds and all. Go there today and you'll hear distant sounds of someone working soybeans and cotton in the leased-out outbuildings, farm-use tires grinding gravel roads, frogs peeping, and chickadees singing out: chick-a-dee, chick-a-dee. But if you happened to pass through in September of 2023, you might've heard fiddle tunes ricocheting off the pines, BBS rattling-to-rest inside empties, and the sounds of Weirs recording their second LP and Dear Life Records debut: Diamond Grove. Weirs is an experimental collective grown out of central North Carolina's music scene—one that is equal parts oldtime and DIY noise. Non-hierarchical in form, past Weirs performances have included anywhere from two to twelve people. In September 2023, nine traveled up US-58 to pack into the living and dining rooms of the dairy farm main house, still in the family of band member and organizer Oliver Child-Lanning, whose relatives have been there for centuries. This Weirs lineup—neither definitive nor precious—includes Child-Lanning; Justin Morris and Libby Rodenbough (his collaborators in Sluice); Evan Morgan, Courtney Werner, and Mike DeVito of Magic Tuber Stringband; and stalwarts Andy McLeod, Alli Rogers, and Oriana Messer who played deep into those late-summer evenings. What resulted are the nine tracks of Diamond Grove, recorded with an ad hoc signal chain assembled from a greater-communitys worth of borrowed gear. The Weirs project began as tape experiments on traditional tunes Child-Lanning made under the name Pluviöse in winter 2019. This evolved into the first Weirs record, Prepare to Meet God, which was self-released in July 2020 and was a collaboration between Child-Lanning and Morris during COVID. The strange conditions of that debut—a communal tradition of live songs recorded apart in isolation—are undone by Diamond Grove, a record rooted in the unrepeatable convergence of people, place, and time. On the new record, Weirs continue their search for how best to forward, uphold, and unshackle so-called "traditional" music. They are songcatchers, gathering tunes on the verge of obscure death. Their wild, centuries-spanning repertoire plays like an avant-call-the-tune session—a kind of Real Book for a scene fluent in porch jams, Big Blood, Amps for Christ, and Jean Ritchie. Weirs catch songs whose interpretive canon still feels ajar—open enough to stand next to but never above those who've sung them before. These aren't attempts at definitive versions. The recordings on Diamond Grove feel like visitations rather than revisions. And the question Weirs asks on this record is not how to simply continue the tradition of their forebears, but how traditional music could sound today. For Weirs, the history of this tradition could be taken less from the folk revival than from musique concréte; less from pristine old master recordings than something like The Shadow Ring if theyd come from the evangelical South. One listen to "(A Still, Small Voice)" and you'll hear the power of the hymn give way to its equal: the floorboards, fire crackle, dinners made and eaten. This tension between preservation and degradation is the inner light of Diamond Grove. Take "Doxology l": the melody of "Old Hundred", a hymn from the Sacred Harp tradition, is converted to MIDI, played through iPhone speakers, and re-recorded in the September air. To some revivalists, this hymn sung with all the glory of fake auto-tuned voices might sound sacreligious. But ears attuned, say, to the hyperpop production of the last few decades will immediately understand the tense beauty of hearing digitallyartifacted shape-note singing. This same tension animates "l Want to Die Easy." Weirs' version draws from A Golden Ring of Gospel's recording, monumentalized in the Folkways collection Sharon Mountain Harmony. The melodies, words, structure are largely unchanged. But the "'pure" clarity of voice in the early recording is gone. In its place, we hear the distancing sound of the dairy farm silo where Weirs recorded their version, its natural two-second reverb replacing pristine proximity. In this way, the sound of the recording site itself becomes equal to the traditional performance. The beating heart of Diamond Grove is Weirs's take on "Lord Bateman," a tune Jean Ritchie called a "big ballad:" played when the chores were done and the night's dancing had stopped. It is an 18th-century song—as old as the Diamond Grove farm—about a captured adventurer, described by Nic Jones as embodying the spirit of an Errol Flynn film. Like many great and often a cappella renditions, this "'Lord Bateman" is voice-forward, foregrounding the gather-round-children importance of yarn spinning. What's new here is the immense drone that transubstantiates the narrative into a ceaseless body of elemental forces. It's an eye-blurring murmur of collective strings that adds to the canon of Ritchie and June Tabor as much as to Pelt's Ayahuasca or Henry Flynt's Hillbilly Tape Music. While Diamond Grove isn't explicitly about the old dairy farm where it was recorded, it can't help but resemble it. Old English ballads like "'Lord Bateman" and "'Lord Randall" spill into fields once 'granted' by the British Crown. Tragic songs like "'Edward" stagger across Tuscarora trails and postbellum cotton rows. Hymns like "'Everlasting l" and "Everlasting Il" catch a moonlight that's been falling through double-hung windows since Lord Bacon's Rebellion. And the nocturnals still trill and plows still till a music uncomposed, waiting for any and all ears to chance upon it. Diamond Grove, in these ways, is history. It is a place. It is time. It is songcatching, liveness, tape manipulation. Like the low-head dam that the word weir implies, it is a defense against the current. It is a defense of regional lexicons against mass-produced vernaculars; a defense against the belief that we can simply return to a simpler time; a defense against the idea that folk music must remain "pure"; a defense against the claim that a dream of the future latent in lost histories is irretrievably lost. Against all that, Diamond Grove defends traditional music by making it sound like the complexity of today—because it knows that such music, and all the histories caught up in it, has a role to play in the days to come.
Gen’s fabled copy-of-1 acetate, made in 1968 with schoolmates, is reissued for wider consumption, offering an unmissable glimpse at the early stirrings of a notorious “wrecker of civilisation” and one of the most significant artists of their time .
Before PTV, before Throbbing Gristle, and leading up to action with COUM Transmissions, one Neil Megson made their first foray into recorded music with some pals in their parents attic in Solihull, West Midlands. Spurred by readings of occult literature, Fluxus and John Cage, and footage of psychedelic “happenings” by Bohemian beatniks in London, Megson and pals experimented with janky equipment to make a cute lo-fi racket of giggles, chants, brays, bittersweet witter and poetry, as recited in the instantly familiar nasal tang of ‘Rather Hard to Libel’. It’s effectively the sound of grammar school boys having a laugh in the late ‘60s, but also serves as the seed for a remarkable, notorious, and enduring oeuvre that catalysed countless others to write, make art and music in their wake.
“POLITE WARNING by Genesis Breyer P-Orridge, 2008: Previously thought to be missing, these never before available songs were created on extremely primitive equipment in the attic of 6 Links Drive, Solihull, Warwickshire, England by Genesis Breyer P-Orridge and friends using Thee Early Worm as their collective group name. Only one copy had originally been pressed on an acetate. This disc and its corresponding analog reel-to-reel master tape were discovered in the Porridge With Everything Archives by Ryan Martin during a recent re-organization. This album is mastered directly from the original reel to reel tape and is made available to devotees of Genesis Breyer P-Orridge’s life-long musical body of work as a missing link, and curiosity, that reveals significant structural themes and sonic textures that, with hindsight, can be seen to have remained central to her creative processes ever since. Please be aware that this is inevitably a low-fi recording intended for collectors and researchers.”
A gum gnashing 60 minute ride of all unreleased James Pants beats & demos .. old fashioned mixtape business. BIG TIP!Spliced together by TBZ and Pissflaps.
Assembling a 'Kwaidan'-style anthology from chewed scraps of noir, horror and dystopian sci-fi movies, billy woods chronicles Black American angst on 'GOLLIWOG', running circles around his peers and arriving on the AOTY for fans of Ka, EARL, Aesop Rock, Westside Gunn or Cannibal Ox. Featuring production from El-P, The Alchemist, DJ Haram, Saint Abdullah, Shabaka Hutchings and others.
The English language is violence, I hotwired it woods coolly quips on 'Jumpscare', tossing out run-on cadences to juggle polyrhythms between beatless double-bass and vaudeville Pan Sonic-esque electrical interferences. Within a track, he fully establishes the concept for 'GOLLIWOG', an album that surveys the full spectrum of horror, splicing together creaking floorboards, ticking clocks, industrial clanks, Herrmann-esque stabs and detuned pianos, maniacal screams and blood-curdling laughs to accompany knotty tales of corporeal terror. It's horrorcore in a sense, cobbling together its scenery with the same congealed raw materials as Necro or Prince Paul, but woods uses the schlocky formula to lighten his death blows, landing some of the deepest lyrical lacerations of his lengthy career so far; 'Dead Body Disposal' it ain't. "Daddy longlegs stride your home like Cecil Rhodes," he nicks, equating the fear of (harmless) spiders with the terror of a real-life boogeyman - the coloniser of Zimbabwe (where woods' father was born), no less. And the track ends with a seemingly throwaway vocal sample: "a horrid sight, the blackest gnome." A description of the titular character from American author Florence Kate Upton's 19th century children's book 'The Adventures of Two Dutch Dolls and a Golliwogg', it's actually a clue to unpicking the album's title. What's fear, exactly, ponders woods, and what's merely ideology? And how does all of this become entertainment, let alone throwaway cutesy fodder for kids?
American horror as a genre has long broadcast the innermost fears of a nation who wears its ideology so boldly that it almost vanishes. Way back in the early 20th century, H.P. Lovecraft's racism manifested in stories of an ancient evil lurking beneath the New World's disturbed earth; later on, in the wake of the contraceptive pill and the subsequent free love movement, promiscuity was met with death and mutilation in an endless slew of slasher movies; and during peak neoliberalism, a taste for "torture porn" offset the stasis of safe liberal suburbia. woods accepts the history of horror, and proposes a true Black American Gothic archetype; just like Jordan Peele's 'Get Out' bolted together familiar tropes to signal how psychologically traumatic the Black experience can be within manicured white confines, woods bundles various cultural spikes to fabricate a more dangerous lyrical weapon. On 'BLK ZMBY', the ubiquitous zombie myth - a Haitian folkloric invention that was famously repurposed by George Romero in the '60s as a critique of American capitalism - is used as packaging for a barrage of knowledge that wraps references to Fela, Dune and Usual Suspects in thorny post-colonial theory. In Romero's 'Night of the Living Dead', the Black lead character spends 90 minutes fighting off zombies only to be shot in cold blood by beer chugging rednecks; now, woods' Black zombies have taken over the asylum, ignoring accountability and poisoning the water supply while the third world's corpse is sucked dry. "Zombies go home to platters of prawn and escargot," woods says, not letting Biggie off the hook. "New mothers struggle while the zombies suckle like baby goats."
DJ Haram handles the production on 'All These Worlds are Yours', dilating Shabaka Hutchings' transcendent improvisations with damaged '50s b-movie oscillations, rasping amp distortions and microtonal drones. "Today, I watched a man die in a hole from the comfort of my own home," woods recounts, accepting the day-to-day wartime horror-tainment we're fed on social media, 'Human Centipede'-style. "Trench fire, silent weapons, body horror, private booth," replies E L U C I D, woods' longtime Armand Hammer cohort. And woods coaxes out some of El-P's best production work in years on 'Corinthians', linking snippets of Lu Xun's 'Diary of a Madman' - that equates the Confucian ethical system with cannibalism - with the breakdown of late-stage Abrahamic morals that'll be closer to home for Anglophone listeners. "Best believe them crackers won't make it to Mars," he quips, double-underlining a verse that muddles St. Paul with Steven King, and Noah with the military industrial complex. By itemizing his own fears in a sequence of 'Cat's Eye'-style vignettes, woods launches hooks into the contemporary façade of terror-as-amusement, a fairground haunted house that's populated with very real demons. It's shockingly effective - the Pulitzer-ready rap album woods has been promising for aeons, and one of the very best things we've heard this year so far.
Holiday resort entertainer Tooper Keps takes a break from entertaining the professional leisure class, and reflects their own world back at them with an EP of otherworldly synths and eerie carnivalesque chansons.
Tooper Keps has fired up his trusty Yamaha PSR-11 and PSS-360 to write his first (and probably last) EP, condensing his favourite chord changes from years of distracting the retired and affluent. The result is a collection of floating song structures that revolve like fairground waltzes, punctuated by modulated effects, cowbells and Tooper’s own bitter tenor. Tapping into his inner goblin, he tackles themes such as property (as theft), Drexler’s gray goo problem, and the ‘merits’ of complaining about a system while also benefiting from it - a typical parasite’s paradox.
“1000 Guest Rooms” finds itself on location in luxury homes, cruise ships and holiday resorts, soaked in Tooper’s own self-loathing while casting a critical eye over the state of the world. While we hurtle towards a future that no one wants, “1000 Guest Rooms” is perhaps the best soundtrack we could hope for.
Ten years after it was originally released, billy woods' sprawling fifth album - a claustrophobic road movie that chews over war, death and disappointment - finally gets a new lease of life.
The timing's great on this one, that's for sure. woods' 'GOLLIWOG' seems like a shoo in for album of the year, so what better time to dig up one of his best deep catalog offerings? 'Today, I Wrote Nothing' wasn't an easy sell at the time; it'd appeared shortly after 'Dour Candy', the rapper's celebrated collaboration with Blockhead, and 'Race Music', his first Armand Hammer album, but didn't just retread the same territory. Where 'Dour Candy' was tight and direct, 'Today, I Wrote Nothing' was sketchy and experimental, a collection of 24 eclectic ideas and asides rapped over dusty, jazz-inflected beats, ghosted soul samples and creaky field recordings. In many ways, it makes more sense now after albums like 2022's 'Aethiopes' and 'GOLLIWOG' have prepared listeners for woods' sharp, philosophical tongue and salty taste in beats.
Just check the Willie Green-produced 'Sleep' with its El-P-cum-BoC synths and rickety rhythms, or the Wire-sampling 'Scales', that skips from Shakespearean "murder-by-numbers" to a psychedelic instrumental workout. "Gas station, vacuum, rental car," woods slurs over a truncated loop of Captain Beefheart's 'White Jam', recounting a long, dangerous drug run. "Back in the back of the bar, demons spar." You can practically taste the blund smoke and gasoline as woods motors from place to place, spinning country in cheap motels on 'Bicycles' and trading macabre anecdotes around the campfire on the vaudeville 'True Stories'. Basically, if you've only heard 'GOLLIWOG', this'll be an easy second step into woods' vast canon.
New York based artist James K returns with Friend.
"Friend: The rupture is filled with sounds and a translation is made from blazing starlight to harmony and weather. Laid down in our silken dreams, the tripped out flows in the dubbed footpath, and with our hands wet, we root down. Her voice fades and gathers from this place, where we hold the water of our bodies against the speaker of time, and let the ripples give us pleasure and vision. Spin slowly around the open air room, dripping with the undertone of two hearts, to hear the warming of her sun come across our deep cold space.
She flies out from the vapor whirlpool feeling the celestial breakdown rise and slip, making room all around for singing out, signaling the days to come and go in peace. And still we find that heaven and earth don’t ever mean enough, even when they speak the same. It’s in these distilled moments we construct a reality, learning to listen quietly for the voices and call out in return. A kiss, a friend, a hand in hand, continuing until things disappear. In the metronome of the cat’s tail, erasing and mending, we find reasons for love and for life.
Riffs of glory and bitter-sweet chorals, trilling and resonant, source from the sub-zeit; it's a deeper sense of emotion that we travel through this space with. And with the blissful sequencing in reverse, we recognize the sonic vistas to come through us. It’s all smiling and sliding in the backwards, floating in the drift of cricket circuitry, when you say to me “is it real?” She leaves us where sounds flicker into taste and touch, where shadows sparkle into color, where star-kissed clouds come down like doorways."
A growling, distinctive set of loose-limbed, groove-fwd art rock inversions, Alpha Maid's debut album has been well worth the wait, augmenting post-punk, noise rock and free improv structures with sui generis studio fog and an unparalleled level of no-fucks-given eccentricity. RIYL Dome, Silver Apples, Moin, Klein, Mica Levi, Loop, Still House Plants.
Leisha Thomas has been working almost entirely without fanfare, imagining a sound that's part Black Dice, part Slint and part Klein. 2021's 'CHUCKLE', released on Olan Monk's c.a.n.v.a.s. label, felt sketchy, anarchic and unhinged - at the time, we compared it with Dean Blunt, This Heat, La Timpa and Slint - and 'Is this a queue' plays to Thomas's keenest instincts, darkening idiosyncratic pencil strokes with confident, intentional gestures. In a year where seemingly everyone's attempting the rock-pop pivot, Thomas refines and focuses ideas that have coursed through not just their solo work, but their spresso-branded collaborations with Mica Levi, for years. This is Thomas's record, for sure, and its quirks are only strengthened by collaborations with their wider community of like-minded operatives: Ben Vince, Coby Sey, Valentina Megaletti and Leo Hermitt. Nothing feels cheap or rattled off for clout - if there's an artist featured, you'd better know there's a damn good reason.
Opener '6-9' is irresistibly incongruous, a cheeky false start that de-platforms Thomas's signature guitar sound, fudging crusty environmental recordings and weightless drones into a modish take on Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis's subterranean rhythmic experiments. We're on more familiar territory with '2 Numbers', but what starts as a tempo-fluxing slowcore slog is coolly stirred by background whispers and plasticky stabs that sound as if they've been wrenched from Kelis's Neptunes-produced first LP. It's hard to know exactly what Manchester-based Hermitt has contributed to this one, but the track's as poppy as Thomas allows themself to get, nearing the tape-dubbed, lo-fi preciousness of last year's 'Underground Love'. Elsewhere, even when Thomas forms what might be mistaken for a song, it's inevitably deconstructed or skewered; on 'Guarded', their wailed ad libs and chants drift in-and-out of step with grumbly strums and boxy, staggered drums.
"It's been a minute," they echo thru distortion and a heaping spoonful of reverb. And by 'GOAT Rosetta' there's almost nothing left, just feedback, growling distortion and barely discernible words sung into the cavernous expanse. Even the genius 'WHY WE HAVE TO MOVE', that centres Valentina Mageletti's most Danny Taylor turn behind the kit, sounds as if it's about to fray at the edges, with its lysergic, xenharmonic guitar whirrs swamping Thomas's mumbled words and angular improvisations. They melt 'Washing Machine'-era Sonic Youth strums and boss-tuned twangs with similarly skewed AutoTuned moans on the simmering, brilliant 'On Smoke', and on the album's sobering finale 'Palimpsest', Thomas's purposed splatter of guitar noises and lurching beats fall into step with Coby Sey's alert annunciations and Ben Vince's inventive sax drones, forming a ruff outline of London's most fertile nook.
If you've been as bored by this year's "experimental" rock offerings as we have, let 'Is this a queue' restore your faith - it's that good.
Ghanaian hiplife phenom Yaw Atta-Owusu presents charming results of his first studio session since 1994’s sleeper hit ‘Obaa Sima’, which found an overdue, cult audience via the blogosphere as one of Awesome Tapes From Africa’s earliest and greatest drops in 2015. If you weren’t snagged on the ohrwurming keys, vox, and groove of the title tune to Ata Kak’s ‘Obaa Sima’ in 2015, you probably weren’t going to the right clubs and checking the right sites. 10 years later it still kills and is set to be joined by this fresh haul from the Bishop Beatz recording studio in Kumasi, Ghana, where Ata Kak laid down ‘Batakari’, his 1st recordings in three decades, recapturing the moxie of his original sound on six cuts that betray time and space travelled within more ambitious arrangements of signature fast chat factored by layered harmonies and rhythmic variegation. “Honed in studios around Kumasi over the last several years, the songs feature the rapper-singer’s acrobatic rap, signature scatting, dramatic drums and even traditional Akan harp. The compositions are more ambitious than his earlier work, with more complex arrangements and layered harmonies. Ata Kak’s new songs are also the natural expression of a restless artist—he is a prolific poet and author of a half-dozen books, as well as an active gardener and busy painter. Born in Ghana in 1960, Ata Kak wasn’t always involved in music. But his travels and openness to the world lead him into the music industry. While living in Germany, he was invited to play drums in a reggae band and subsequently played in highlife bands in Ontario after moving to the Toronto area. He recorded “Obaa Sima” there at his home studio and released it in Ghana in 1994. He didn’t participate in music much in the intervening years until “Obaa Sima” was reissued in 2015. He started performing his song live with the help of a brilliant cast of London-based musicians and has toured three continents and played to thousands of fans in venues of all kinds.”
Prajñāghoṣa's debut ambient album on Into The Deep Treasury is a narrative, a musical poem, an attempt to share the story of a transformative odyssey — an outer and inner journey marked by higher aspirations, spiritual growth, and a profound connection with the world.
Coming with a 8 pages booklet
We Do Recover, the new album from Powell and his first album proper on his own Diagonal Records, is a vitalising record of recovery and a statement of reassurance. The music is intensely emotional and lean, and forms a uniquely expressive story that opens up new ground in the artists's bizarre continuum of synthesised sound — this time triggered by experiences of grief and addiction.
The suicide of one of his life-long friends in 2024 was a life-changing loss which eternally altered Powell's life, and consequently his music. A period of recovery followed, one accompanied by the assembling of this album from hours of music made between 2018 and 2025. "After my friend's death I felt I went into a tailspin, but really, I was already in one," he says. "I found myself unable to handle anything – my way of coping was always to run away and escape. I realised it was going to kill me, so I made some changes. It made me see the music I had been making through a different lens, one that mirrored my experience of recovery. It's not linear, it's often difficult, but there is beauty there if you look hard enough. I wanted it to be a message of hope, if only for myself."
Powell has existed of late in an intensive mode of creation that utilises stochastic processes (probabilistic events) and a particular sonic palette. But where previous releases – such as the many prongs of his a ƒolder project, or the hyper-synthetic Piano Music 1—7 on Editions Mego – interrogated and developed formal processes for synthesised sound, on We Do Recover the processes are subsumed as tools for expression. What unfolds is an extended suite of minimal music that articulates and traces an intensive period of upheaval, pain, and hope; tight envelopes of sonic architecture are led astray; energies explode beyond bounds previously set. We can feel the collapse of control, and an overflowing sense of something starting anew. It is, in turn, surprising, baffling and beautiful.
The story begins with the radiance and glittering synthetic tones of 'All These Feelings'—like looking up into the vastness of the night sky. By track seven the wonder has become unsteady, with wayward keys, stochastic shapes, brittle fizz and hurried words emerging, unprompted, from the stillness. There is percussive brutalism in 'Relapse', and 'Afterlife' brings weight and solemnity in its funereal refrain. Four-to-the-'floor 'Newborn' turns the lights on as an equilibrium of sorts is sought and wrestled with, before 'So Rivers Plunge' sings like nobody's listening — a MIDI orchestra warming up in the box while the laptop remains asleep. Closing track 'The Bitter End' is no ending at all, instead promising a future in shimmering torques, caught on the wind of hope. It returns to us, with renewed awe, the starlight we began with.
WDR is the first full-length solo album Powell has ever released on his own label Diagonal – all other releases have been EPs, 12"s, or collaborations — and so it represents a landmark in his catalogue in more ways than one. "I nearly added a question mark to the album title," he says. "Recovery is a long process, and the album reflects that. There's a lot of short termism in the world right now, but recovery, in whatever guise, is the opposite of that… It takes time."
This was his first studio album in four years since his last album, "Endless Talking", and the first release since moving to EPIC/SONY RECORDS. This work was the result of sessions and collaborations with Arabian musicians, with an inclination towards the 'world music' that was gaining attention at the time. Deployed often in pop culture as punchline, Hosono takes such sight-seeing and transforms it into a metaphor for sample-heavy electronic music, drawing from various cultures and weaving them together into a new holistic vision. Omni Sight Seeing is the clearest iteration of this concept, as he alights on Algerian raï, Martin Denny exotica, and acid house, too. It’s one part Jon Hassell-esque Fourth World, one part Duke Ellington “jungle music,” with Hosono’s singular outlook running through it all.
The third release in the early Dumb Type music series, following Every Dog Has His Day and Plan For Sleep.
This cassette release features live performance recordings from Suspense and Romance, Dumb Type’s first large-scale exhibition, held in 1987 at Tsukashin Hall in Amagasaki, Hyogo Prefecture.
This work marks the first time composer Toru Yamanaka created and produced all the music for a Dumb Type project. It documents a unique musical collaboration with saxophonist Harry Kitte.
Developed under the theme of “Suspence and Romance”, Yamanaka's compositions weave together the cinematic lyricism of jazz with abstract textures of post-minimalist sound. Layered with Kitte's evocative multi-tracked saxophone phrases, as well as sequencers, samplers, and PCM recordings, the soundscape formed during this period would go on to define the sonic identity of Dumb Type through later works such as S/N.
Also included is a 50+ page booklet featuring rare photos, drawings, and a roundtable discussion among members.
Released as a cassette book in a box set format, this edition was produced under the direction of the Early Dumb Type Archive Project, led by original members of the collective. It serves as a valuable archival document offering a multifaceted perspective on Dumb Type’s formative years.
Fennesz, who creates unique electronic sounds with guitars and computers, has released his first album in about five and a half years, "Mosaic." It is an unparalleled masterpiece with incredibly beautiful sound images constructed with incredible precision.
This is Fennesz's most introspective album to date. It was written and recorded at the end of 2023 and finished in summer 2024. Fennesz opened his third new studio space in the last four years. Without any immediate plans, this time he started from scratch with a strict working routine: wake up early in the morning, work until noon, take a break and work again until the evening. At first, just collect ideas, experiment and improvise. Then write, mix and revise. But the title was decided early on: Mosaic. It reflected an old-fashioned image-making technique, where elements were placed one by one to build a whole picture, before pixels could do it in an instant.
Mosaic, as its name suggests, is a delicate and intricate album, stitching together sonic fragments into something vast and immersive. Fennesz constructed the work layer by layer in a meticulous, almost meditative process, as if restoring forgotten memories or constructing a sonic monument.
Mosaic is a cinematic, deeply engaging and beautiful score with diverse influences and multiple possibilities to be explored by the listener.
With Mosaic, Fennesz proves once again that he's not just a musician, but an architect of sound, crafting a world for us to inhabit before dissolving, if only for a moment, into the ether. An album where science meets dreams, precision meets poetry, where sound itself becomes an ancient language that invites us to rediscover it. A real gem!
Since his debut in 2001 on Chain Reaction — the sublabel of the legendary Basic Channel — electronic music producer Shinichi Atobe has fascinated not only dub techno and minimal club audiences but also devoted music lovers around the world. After more than a decade of silence, he began releasing consistently from Manchester’s DDS (Demdike Stare’s label) in 2014, reaffirming his unique presence in contemporary electronic music.
In July of this year, Atobe suddenly launched his own private label, Plastic & Sounds, and now announces its second release, “A1. SynthScale / A2. Disappear | AA. Between Thoughts”, available as a 12-inch (45RPM / limited press) vinyl and in digital formats.
Opening track, elevation synth dub tech “SynthScale” intertwines ascending and descending synth lines with a driving rhythm, revealing hints of progressive rock within its elevation of synth-driven dub techno. “Disappear” follows with floating high tones, an unexpected piano motif, and bursts of tightly struck drums that create a surging momentum. The over ten-minute-long “Between Thoughts” centers on a deep, weighty bassline, interwoven with subtle voice samples, unfolding softly and gracefully into a long-form minimal house piece in Atobe’s unmistakable style.
Mastering and vinyl cutting were handled by Rashad Becker in Berlin, who has worked extensively on Atobe’s previous releases.
“i ai e.p.” by GEZAN with Million Wish Collective is a genre-blending 12" release that merges alternative rock, ambient textures, and experimental soundscapes. The A-side features the emotionally charged title track “i ai,” while the B-side offers a sprawling 18-minute remix by COMPUMA. Originally composed as the theme for the film i ai, the EP reflects GEZAN’s signature fusion of chaos, spirituality, and sonic exploration.
Much of the Collide's sound is derived from an old Aria Pro II electric guitar from Leif’s childhood, scratched up with damaged and unpredictable electrics.
The record leans into this sense of things being broken or damaged - and how sometimes things need to break in order for us to make sense of them- revelling in, rather than resisting, unpredictability.
Lush textures traverse us across unexpected terrains.
Four digital dancehall scorchers with two accompanying 8-bit versions meticulously crafted with the soundsystem session in mind!
Tapes has been spreading wonky saturated riddim goodness since his ground breaking “Hissing Theatricals” EP in 2009. Now, after a brief hibernation in the northern spawning pools, he’s spinning up his reels once again to present a new killer set of amphibian friendly, nintendo-fied sound system depth charges!
The “Photos of My Frog EP” is croaking off with its oddly addictive namesake: a surefire pond party starter – Ribbit! Hopping along, the adorable but tuff “Cleat Skank” and its gameboy driven pollywog follow, swinging their 8bit melody lasso till the cows come home. Yeehaw!
“Ramp Up” on B is a dense and raw FM synth digi banger, sure to fry any nearby circuits, so best beware! “Back Cramp Riddim” then turns up the low end even more and swirls its drums and synths into the next delay vortex, warping into a pixelated 8bit conclusion.
Whatever your taste in insects there’s something on this record for any lover of vintage dancehall and amphibious wild life alike!
Second Circle is very excited to announce ‘In Dream’, the eight-track debut album from Tokyo-born, Berlin-based producer and DJ Courtney Bailey.
Sonically, 'In Dream' unfolds as a rich, lush soundscape, woven together with expansive digital synth pads, Fairlight-esque stabs, and vibrant acid bass lines. At times the EP leans back horizontally to evoke the balearic spirit of Yello ('Burnt Moon'), at other times it leans more upright towards to dancefloor ('In Heaven'), but what remains throughout is a sense of intimacy, gracefully guided by Bailey’s whisper soft spoken vocals and gentle melodic vocal lines.
Building on an initial spark of inspiration that arose when listening to the work of Japanese artist Dream Dolphin aka Noriko Kodera, ‘In Dream' is Bailey’s direct creative response to new feelings, energy and emotions. Time spent in the outdoors, specifically in the natural landscapes of Australia also had a profound influence on the making of the record; opener ‘Kodou’ was directly inspired by a moment in Melbourne watching rainbow-colored parrots in a pink-flowering tree. Similarly, 'Burnt Moon' captures the essence of watching moonlight shimmer on ocean waters. At its core, 'In Dream' embraces a child-like wonder for the beauty of nature, an act which infuses the music with a radiant, luminous sense of positivity.
Capturing the essence of stepping into the unknown and more importantly, doing it with curiosity and optimism, ‘In Dream’ paints a vibrant, multi-colour vision of life, with Bailey inviting us all to immerse ourselves in it’s wonders.
'In Dream’ will be released on October 30th on vinyl LP and digitally. Sleeve art and design by Michael Willis.
Bringing together two distinct yet complementary forces in electronic music, Zohar and Nymfo join for their first collaborative release on Dekmantel.
Zohar’s sound is defined by razor-sharp precision and pulsating percussive energy storm-like sonics that disorient and excite in equal measure. With a background shaped by years of commanding dancefloors, she has carved a diverse and eclectic path, where rattling low-end and rhythmic tension form the foundation. Known for her technical refinement and mixing wizardry, Zohar intuitively seeks unexpected connections, always pushing her listeners into new territory. Following several contributions to Dekmantel compilations, this marks her first full-length release on the label.
Nymfo has been an essential figure in drum & bass since the late ’90s. Starting out in Eindhoven’s rave and jungle scene, he quickly became known for his fierce DJ sets and later, his productions. His catalogue spans acclaimed labels such as Metalheadz, 1985 Music, Commercial Suicide, Hospital Records, Critical, Dispatch, Shogun Audio, and many more. With two albums and a steady output of singles and EPs, Nymfo has consistently balanced raw dancefloor energy with a deep, refined production ethos.
Their paths crossed countless times in the scene, yet it wasn’t until Dekmantel invited them for a special Dekmantel Connects performance an ambitious setup with eight CDJs and four mixers that they shared the decks for the first time. The synergy of that moment carried into the studio, where their collaboration took shape. This release now returns them to the Dekmantel family, presenting their joint vision: a dialogue between low-end weight, rhythmic intricacy, and forward-thinking club sonics.