Electronic / Experimental

THE PLAIN TRUTH=we drifted through it, arguing.every day a new war crime, every day a flower bloom.we sat down together and wrote it in one room,and then sat down in a different room, recording.NO TITLE= what gestures make sense while tiny bodies fall? what context? what broken melody?and then a tally and a date to mark a point on the line, the negative process, the growing pile.the sun setting above beds of ashwhile we sat together, arguing.the old world order barely pretended to care.this new century will be crueler still.war is coming.don’t give up.pick a side.hang on.love.

The inimitable GYBE returns with another soundtrack for our times. As the heretical anarcho-punk spirit of the title implies, Godspeed harnesses some particularly raw power, spittle and grit across two riveting 20-minute side-length trajectories of noise-drenched widescreen post-rock: inexorable chug blossoms into blown-out twang, as some of the band’s most soaring, searing melodies ricochet and converge amidst violin and bassline counterpoint. Field recordings and roiling semi-improvised passages frame these fervent epics, and two shorter self-contained 6-minute pieces find the band at its most devastatingly beautiful, haunting and elegiac. Poignant atmospherics, noise-drenched orchestration, drone, hypnotic swingtime crescendos, inexorably-layered towers of distorted clarion sound: STATE’S END encapsulates every beloved facet of the band. Twenty-five years on, this new album is as vital, stirring, timely and implacable as any in Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s storied discography. Recorded and mixed by Jace Lasek, the veteran award-winning indie producer (and co-founder of The Besnard Lakes) who works with Godspeed for the first time on this recording.

Resynthese FAVN is a ten-CD box set and publication presenting a new realization of Florian Hecker’s 2017 thirteen-channel installation of the same name. First exhibited at Kunsthalle Wien in the exhibition “Halluzination, Perspektive, Synthese,” and elaborating upon ideas first presented in the 2016 project FAVN, the ten works that comprise Resynthese FAVN present iterations of a synthetic timbre produced using machine-listening processes of analysis and further resynthesis —the sonification of a machine caught in the act of listening to itself. Accompanying the audio are three booklets containing three new essays offering critical and historical context for the work, developed in collaboration with the British publisher Urbanomic. FAVN and its resynthesis point back to Stéphane Mallarmé’s 1876 poem “L’Après-Midi d’un Faun,” and its subsequent musical and choreographic interpretations by Claude Debussy and Vaslav Nijinsky. A faun, straddling reverie and reality, recounts a sensuous meeting with several nymphs. It is unclear whether the experience was an illusion; asks the faun, “Did I love a dream?” Hecker, in turn, asks listeners to examine their own sensory perceptions. What forms do our human minds make out of the algorithmic timbres and synthetic voices that unspool across the versions of Resynthese FAVN? Sound drags, ascends, chirps, warps, and growls with manic irregularity. Definite but indescribable differences emerge across the ten 53-minute tracks. Language—occasionally emerging through a synthetic voice, sourced from a libretto written by Robin Mackay—proves unstable within the hallucinatory textures set loose by Hecker’s composition. As chimeric shapes materialize and fade away, one might further ask: are we listening for the faun, or do we become faun through listening? Across the three newly published essays, Quentin Meillassoux contextualizes the character of the faun in Mallarmé’s poem; Noé Soulier assesses the embodied translation of “L’Après-Midi d’un Faun” in Nijinsky’s 1912 ballet; and Han Han and Vincent Lostanlen consider the trajectory of timbre, from the enlightenment to our computational present. Florian Hecker is a German artist whose works across synthetic sound, installation, and performance consider sensory perception and the audience's auditory experience. He has collaborated with artists including Aphex Twin, Cerith Wyn Evans, Russell Haswell, Mark Leckey, and Yasunao Tone.

In "Carrie and Lowell," Sufjan Stevens is a child again or, more specifically, the child character in the family of man drama that often but not always centers on the story of love given, or love forsaken, but isn't that the same thing to the poet? That the love Stevens sings about having left or given or been born to--thank you, Carrie--is a perceptible wound not only on the singer's throat, but his sleeve: he wears love's incomprehensibility, and the deep incomprehensibility of being a son, like a backing vocal on "Carrie and Lowell," which is also filled with colors, hearts, trees, conclusions, and beginnings, all adding up to the kind of intimacy that caught my eye the morning I sat in the diner waiting for the sun to get stronger as I saw intimacy pass by while going about it's business, like something sung and felt by Sufjan Stevens on his new beautiful solitary and rich record filled with faith and disbelief and the resurrection of trust and dreams. - HILTON ALS

20th Anniversary Repress! 
Merzbow's Merzbeat is one the most unique and legendary titles in the artist's vast archive. This 20th anniversary repress is being issued at the same time as CD reissue of his 1983 album Material Action 2 and a brand new collaboration with Arcane Device, all on Important Records....

The long-awaited LP reissue of the insane masterpiece "My Hometown is Far Away Like a Story," which was produced by poet Taeko Tomioka and the young Ryuichi Sakamoto, and made a name for itself in music history! The cover by Nobuyoshi Araki, also known as Araki, is a must-have!

The poet Tomioka Taeko's insane masterpiece "Monogatarinoyouni Furusatohatoi" (originally released on CD by Victor in 1977 and P-Vine in 2005) is finally coming to light on a limited edition analog LP! It's too avant-garde and fantastical to be called psychedelic. A masterpiece of insanity that will drive the vestibular canals of all who listen to it crazy!
The music was produced by a young Ryuichi Sakamoto, and the cover was photographed by Nobuyoshi Araki, also known as Araki.

Released in 1998 as Massive Attack’s third studio album, this work is regarded as their masterpiece. Unlike the soulful and jazzy atmosphere of their previous albums Blue Lines and Protection, it deepened the trip-hop sound while strongly incorporating influences from post-punk and industrial, resulting in a cold and heavy sonic landscape. Issued by Virgin Records as a 180-gram double LP edition.

Bedroom pop duo Babeheaven return after a short hiatus with a vulnerable "post rave" sound that's like Air split with Frank Ocean.

'Slower Than Sound' is billed as music that you might listen to on the bus back home after a night out and we can see it. Nancy Andersen's voice is just as lulling as it was on Babeheaven's debut album 'Home For Now' and Jamie Travis's instrumentation is warmer and more restrained this time around, a throb of exotica-ish Mellotrons, fingerpicked arpeggios and clunky drum machine loops. It's a creative rebirth for the duo, who sound as if they've checked in again after a few years of heartbreak and burnout. And when they allow themselves to really strip things down, like on the introspective 'Loud Thoughts', a track that features a star turn from Samba Jean-Baptiste, things get really interesting.

Two tracks of dub-infused electronica, edited from recordings of my live modular jam sessions (which you can watch on my YouTube channel).

You can buy the 7" here on Bandcamp, but please support your local record store where possible :) You can find a list of shops selling the record here: linktr.ee/yassokiiba

If you buy from a store and would also like the WAV files, just message me here and I'll send you a free download code.

A selection of unreleased works from the prolific and Eastbourne based artist B.L. Underwood. As often, it started with discovering a CD, leading me to the depths of the Internet Archive. I still remember the excitement of going through B.L. Underwood's recordings for the first time and realising how unique his approach to electronic music was, every track had something powerful yet moving within it, as he could play around with genres and tempos yet carrying a very distinctive touch. After a short detective work to get in touch with the artist, and quite some time curating the content of this compilation (the hardest part by far), System Of Objects is proudly presenting the remastered version of 6 of his tracks that showcast B.L. Underwood talent and uniqueness.

Longer and slower-releasing than his other albums, Pomegranates often parallels the cinematic epic on which it’s based (Նռան գույնը), with ideas pursued over long timelines and across dark landscapes, assembling elements and moods from the aesthetic and folkloric landscapes of Armenia. Jaar’s identity is perceived within this, folding in his heritage as Palestinian and Chilean as he attempts to build a musical architecture outwards that frames as much of the mess and sprawl of life as possible; using a language that investigates the movement and fluctuation of his own artistic career and character similarly to the film’s tracing of the coming of age of the young poet, Sayat-Nova.

At times, Pomegranates feels profoundly intimate, as though looking through the archive of a friend’s music and discovering the accent and common currency that lives within each of these tracks. Much of Jaar’s most elegant and touching melodic work is nestled here, its power residing in its simplicity and willingness to speak to the heart and not the mind of the listener.

In the text document included in the first freely distributed version of the album in 2015, Jaar writes that the album was conceived during a moment of change, and that the pomegranate became an icon that heralded that passage of time. The physical publication of Pomegranates closes one door whilst opening another, keeping promises and marking a significant point in the career of an artist who restlessly reinvents himself, with a document that illustrates a common language of lyricism, freedom, and emotional resonance linking his many paths and projects.

Métron Records presents Mycorrhizal Music, a new solo offering from composer and multi-instrumentalist Ess Whiteley and their first full-length release since their duo Liila’s album “Soundness of Mind” (Not Not Fun, 2021). Currently a PhD candidate in Composition at the University of California-San Diego, Whiteley’s practice spans recordings, installations, performances, and scores, a body of work as diverse as the fungal webs that inspire it.

Across seven tracks, Whiteley explores interconnected sound worlds shaped by mycelium networks, rhizomatic structures, and other unseen systems that sustain life. Rooted in experimental electronics, minimalism, ambient and IDM, the record imagines sound as ephemeral connective tissue capable of reshaping how a listener might experience time, memory, and futurity.

At the core of Whiteley’s work is an excavation of what lies beneath perception, the felt but unspoken currents of emotionality and subtle experiences that dwell in the unconscious. Mycorrhizal Music channels these hidden threads into a speculative ecosystem of kinship and exchange, where joy, play, and spirituality interlace like branching hyphae beneath the soil.

Mycorrhizal Music has been conceived as kinetic ambient music, designed to move with the listener while walking, riding trains, driving, cooking, where everyday rhythms align with shifting sonic textures, reminding them of hidden, interconnected, mycelial webs of spiritual vitality beneath the surfaces of daily activity.

Guided by a vision of speculative ecology and interspecies resonance, it thrives in contrasts: tracks like Rhizomatic Harpists and Whispered Messages in Tapestried Fields of Fluid Motion pulse with fluid momentum, while Kaleidoscopic Patterns of Emptiness Dancing drifts into fragile stillness.

Hun Hun are 2 young brothers from Bruxelles who are doing a very special music in an ethno-shamanic-tribal vibe pretty cinematographic. With this first opus, an album of 10 tracks, they bring us on a journey into deep, dark and mysterious atmospheres with natural backgrounds from the forest, beautiful vocals, singular percussions, and rhythms that would easily fit for intro sets at Boccacio in 1988. This album could have been easily released on Crammed Disc in the 80’s, but it has a modern touch from today that makes it a proper gem for Macadam Mambo.

Clay oven-baked ruffneck beats and fragrant vocal delicacies from the endless archive of Bryn Jones’ Muslimgauze, offered up in a series of genuinely, previously unreleased - rather than repackaged - material.

The sole 12” in a four part series (the others are 7”) serves two variations on a theme as part of Muslimgauze’s near-ritualistic, everyday practice, at The Abraham Moss studios, north Manchester. Taken from typically untitled DATs sent to labels almost as quickly as they were recorded, the session opens with a wickedly coarse piece of looped, pitching hand-drum rhythms pushed into the red are swirled with a patina of tense cries resembling a glitching muezzin, and peppered with spoken word shrapnel. Its longer B-side variant locks much deeper into that groove with a beautiful wistful vocal loop vapourised into ether whilst the drums are clipped to a cleaner trot, but still riddled with satisfying amounts of sinewy noise in the mix, between its teeth.

INDEX:Records is enamoured to present the accomplished debut record by New York City resident, Beau Mahadev – 8-parts of dreamy vocals and wet-textured IDM-pop.

To some extent, this album arriving at INDEX:Records has been over 3 years in the making: we were first introduced to Beau’s work at GLOB in Denver (during our USA tour in 2023), at an event hosted by a dear friend, filled with lovely peeps. We were totally blown away by Beau’s performance and knew within a few minutes of their set starting that we wanted to release an album with them someday. Now, here it is: Subterra. Featuring tasty collaborations with {iii}, Uza A'amo and Yau Hei ASJ.

Vinyl limited to 200 copies. Front sleeve by Chiu. Design by Conna Haraway

London’s DJ Ojo expands his deep end club purview to a full album of purring downbeats, lilting rhythmelodies and technoid bassbin pressure with signature restraint and well-balanced weight for Blank Mind. It's really strong, tightly produced gear the far fringes of dub techno, somewhere between Monolake, Convextion, and the sort of thing Beneath and Kowton were up toback in the post-dubstep and post-UKF days of the late ‘00s...

One up to his label debut 12” of ’23, and a preceding EP for Significant Other’s Pain Management, the eight tracks of ‘Total Internal Reflection’ dwell in a vein of syncopated, offbeat UK bass music where deep house, dub techno, and electronic sound designer suss are reduced to barest essentials, as first shaped by the likes of Beneath and Kowton back in the post-dubstep and post-UKF days of the late ‘00s. It’s a sound that can sometimes take itself so seriously to the point of numbness, but is here inflected with just enough personality and sensuality in the tactile dub tech details and whirring, minimalist efficiency of the groove that buoys it to interest for connoisseurs of this sound.

A carefully plotted course emerges in the finely tempered escalation of tempo and opening of envelopes from a squashed, reticulated opener and nervier, skeletal 2-step parry of a title tune spangled with insectoid intricacy and adore dubbing, finding filigree variegation within a theme as the sloshing bleep swag of ‘Entropic’ nudges into mid-tempo swang shades from Paperclip Minimiser aces on ‘World of lens’, and echoes of Pole bounce around the sound sphere of ‘Axiomatic’, with a strong cap-tip to T++, but at depressed pace, on ‘Cruising’, and the sort of subs made for swimming in the club propel its most robust stepper ‘Isomorphic’.

Rio’s Felinto channel the punkish ‘80s vim and license of Os Replicantes on a pair of crazed, shouty, scrappy calls to resistance, issued in aid of activists in the favelas.

"Fresh from annihilating EU/UK audiences with his steppas tropicalia on the Bokeh Dekalog tour, Felinto presents a crazed vision of Sao Paulo party punk - industrial scuzz, dub squelch, grinding guitars and riot-ready vocals.

Festa Punk is a call to rage, to ritual, to celebration — as forms of resistance against the grim, creeping global fascism. It’s a shout to bend time, to create moments that shake off erased identities and flip the script on a world that treats violence like gospel.

It's also a homage to Brazilian hxc heroes, Os Replicantes, whose classic 'Fest Punk' appeared on the '87 LP Histórias De Sexo E Violência."

Anyone fascinated by Debit or Elysia Crampton’s Chuquimamani-Condori investigation of South American folk heritages or even The Haxan Cloak are advised to check Nervio Cosmico’s electro-acoustic spirit quest, notably recorded at Peter Gabriel’s Real World studios.

““Singing Vessels” draws inspiration from the sonorities and aesthetics of Amazonian medicine ceremonies and traditional Andean music. At its heart is a collection of clay whistles from ancient South America, whose timbres conjure the vibrant soundworld of the Andes. The piece also incorporates shamanic instruments from the Amazon, such as the shacapa — a bundle of dry leaves whose rustling produces a deep, soothing texture with remarkable sensory resonance.

Interwoven with generative electronics, live looping and synthesisers, these organic timbres create evolving psychoacoustic spaces where the mystery of nature meets inner realms of perception and consciousness. The piece unfolds as a ceremonial passage through a shamanic ritual: beginning in a dense jungle of sounding entities, rising into moments of cathartic purging, dissolving into states of blessing and communion, and finally returning to the here and now with renewed awareness.

Nervio Cosmico is an electroacoustic experimental duo based in Bristol, formed by Chilean composer Daniel Linker and Italian sound artist Matteo Amadio. Blending acoustic instruments from ancient South American shamanic traditions with live looping, generative sound design, and live electronics, they craft sonic journeys that explore perception, consciousness, and a spiritual connection with nature.”

Takuro Okada's latest work is the original soundtrack for the film "After the Heat" directed by Hide Yamamoto.

Okada himself plays many of the instruments on the album, including piano and acoustic guitar, and is joined on the album by Kei Matsumaru on saxophone and Hiroki Chiba on double bass. The album was mastered by Jim O'Rourke, whom Okada admires, and features artwork by Toru Kase.

*199 copies limited edition* Aka Meme by Merzbow was first released on Music-Cassette in 1983 on Masami'a own label ZSF Produkt and on V2 Uitgave (a Sub-label of V2 Organisation). Tape was later re-released in other two editions but is long time sold-out and impossible to find. Finally OEC is going to re-release that special tape once more. This is Industrial-Noise from the very first era made by the master of Japanoise. Recordings are mixing many different sounds that range from: ritual-sounds / vocals / found-sounds / treated-guitar / many different rythms / noise.... and a wired and wide range of other bubbling & rumbling sounds! A total merzexperience!

"Eau" is the lovely new album from aus, the solo project of Tokyo-born composer and producer Yasuhiko Fukuzono, who has gained attention, in Japan and overseas, for his thoughtfully paced and sensitively skillful music as well as his intriguing sound design for exhibitions and experimental cinema. Having worked primarily with keyboards and electronic sound up to this point, "Eau" is a slight yet fascinating shift for aus; the album, while still primarily an electronic work, revolves around the sonic world of a stringed acoustic sound source, the koto, that most characteristically Japanese of musical instruments. The very accomplished Eden Okuno provides the delicate-yet-rich koto sounds on offer here; Fukuzono, in the liner notes, acknowledges the importance of Okuno’s artistry to the project.

The compositions on the album are designed to balance the sound of the koto, with its subtly variable attack and flickering resonance, with the timbre of other instruments. The delicate decay and metrical flexibility of the koto is enveloped by sustained synthesizer sounds and contrapuntally constructed piano melodies, creating a flowing ambience with absorbing undercurrents, a languid and liquid quality that reveals the suitability of the title.

Avid fans of contemporary Japanese music might hear the influence of pioneering works such as the the 1979 Hiroshi Yoshimura composition “Clouds for Alma", realized by koto player Tadao Sawai, and the 1993 album "Koto Vortex I: Works by Hiroshi Yoshimura" which featured performances of Yoshimura's works by the Japanese koto quartet Koto Vortex. These works attempted to remove the koto from its traditional context and place it within the context of ambient and techno. "Eau" is available on CD/LP/cassette/digital, with E/J liner notes by aus. "Eau" is the first collaborative release by EM Records and FLAU, the label run by Yasuhiko Fukuzono (aus).

The album will be released on February 13, 2026

Strut proudly presents the debut album from producer, songwriter and multiinstrumentalist, Momoko Gill. Fresh from her critically acclaimed collaboration Clay recorded with cult electronic artist Matthew Herbert, Momoko steps forward in her own right for the first time with her remarkable debut solo album.

Momoko has long been one of the UK electronic and jazz scene’s best-kept secrets. A self-taught drummer, producer, songwriter, and vocalist, she has brought her unique touch to collaborations with Alabaster DePlume, Matthew Herbert, Coby Sey, Tirzah, and Nadeem Din-Gabisi (her musical foil in An Alien Called Harmony). Extensive touring behind the drum kit, at the keys and in front of the mic have honed her compositional and production instincts.

With Momoko, Gill emerges into the spotlight with an album that is entirely her own. Throughout, you can hear the stylistic flavours of jazz musicians as much as singer-songwriters, experimental artists and electronic producers. Though Gill rejects imitation, sculpting her sound through feel and expression rather than tradition. Based in London and having grown up in Japan and the US, Gill channels her breadth of perspective through her musical ideas and storytelling, with a unique voice developed through instinct, collaboration and solitary study.

The album’s eleven tracks take in a wide spectrum with the jazz-infused groove of ‘No Others’ and harmony-drenched, reflective ‘Heavy’ contrasting with the dark, confrontational sound of 'Shadowboxing' leading into an eerie left-field instrumental beat, ‘Test A Small Area' and the impressive 50-person choir on ‘When Palestine Is Free’ (which includes heavyweights Shabaka Hutchings, Soweto Kinch, Alabaster DePlume, Coby Sey, Marysia Osu and more). It is a deeply personal and poetic recording and showcases the full uncompromising range of Momoko’s vison, presented in her own voice.

Momoko was produced by Momoko Gill, recorded at Total Refreshment

Centre, mixed by Matthew Herbert and mastered by Alex Gordon at Abbey Road Studios.

The Oganesson Remixes EP follows the March 2025 release of the “Oganesson” digital single, which was the first new music released by Tortoise since 2016. The EP includes the original version of “Oganesson” alongside five new remixes of the track created by collaborators and friends of the band, including poet and activist Saul Williams, prolific mastering engineer Heba Kadry, Black Keys drummer Patrick Carney, indie music icons Broken Social Scene, and International Anthem labelmate Makaya McCraven. The Oganesson Remixes EP comes ahead of a new album by Tortoise, which will be released this fall via International Anthem and Nonesuch Records.

The songs on Touch, the first new Tortoise music in nine years, are dramas without words. They’re elaborately appointed and carefully mixed to enhance a familiar feeling — a distinctly cinematic uneasiness. Close your eyes and you might see cars swerving around unlit rural roads, or cityscapes at night with bells clanging in the distance, or some abandoned warehouse where spies chase each other between towering stacks of boxes.

The making of Touch is an entirely different kind of film — a heartwarming story of musicians adapting to life circumstances.

Tortoise operates as a collective; the five multi-instrumentalists make records by committee, seeking input on creative decisions large and small. All ideas are considered, and for most of the band’s influential three-decade run, the process has been straightforward: Each musician brings in songs or sketches, and as the group absorbs them, the players exchange ideas about the structure, instrumentation, different grooves or (more frequently, because they’re Tortoise) odd metric divisions that might stretch the initial conception of the song.

These discussions have always happened in real time, face to face. Until Touch. As guitarist and keyboardist Jeff Parker explains, over the last decade, the members of Tortoise scattered geographically, making the pre-production rehearsal sessions if not impossible, at least more complicated.

“It’s the first record we’ve done where everything wasn’t based in Chicago,” says Parker. “Two of us are in Chicago. Two of us are here in Los Angeles and John [McEntire] is in Portland, OR. We recorded in several different places. But the strange thing is, in a way it’s kind of the most cohesive session that we’ve done.”

McEntire, who plays drums, percussion, and keyboards and serves as mixing engineer, had little doubt that the actual recording would be fine. His apprehension was about those more open-ended development sessions leading up to the recording, which, he says, have been known to yield moments of peak Tortoise inspiration. “We don't work remotely, unfortunately. We kind of all have to be in the room together. For me the trial-and-error stage is very important. I didn’t want to lose that.”

The percussionist and multi-instrumentalist John Herndon explains one reason why: The path to a “final” version of a Tortoise tune is not a straight line. “It becomes writing and arranging and editing and orchestrating and sort of getting things into a sonic space that feels good, all at the same time.”

There was consensus about that; each of the musicians has a story about songs being transformed by the collaborative dynamic. Percussionist and keyboardist Dan Bitney recalls a session when they were working on one of his tunes. He wasn’t happy with it and promised to come up with a countermelody. “Right away somebody just asked “Does it need a melody? Like, why does this need a melody? And I’m like, “Yeah!” That’s the kind of thinking that can open your eyes.”

In the initial planning for the new record, the band arrived at what seemed like a reasonable geographic compromise: They’d set up shop at studios in three different areas — Los Angeles, Portland, and Chicago. They scheduled sessions with sometimes months in between, so that everyone could sit with the material and refine it further. The plan: To shift some of the wild idea-chasing of those development sessions from group work to individual work, building on Tortoise’s deep and iconoclastic lexicon of sounds — and on the trust between musicians that’s accrued over decades of music-making.

“It’s like, humans adapt,” Herndon says flatly. In order to keep making music as a group, he explains, everyone needed to be flexible then and remain so now. “If you’re used to doing something one way, and then it flips, well, you have to adapt to another way of working. I think that that's what we all were aspiring to do with this, endeavoring to kick in our adaptation skills.”

Still, it wasn’t smooth sailing. “I’m going to be honest, I think that we had some doubts” after the first set of sessions, McEntire recalls. Noting that four years elapsed from the beginning of Touch to its completion, he adds that “it took a long, long time for the music to coalesce. There was some ‘what are we doing?’ questioning going on along the way.”

Douglas McCombs, who plays guitar, bass, and the deep-voiced bass VI guitar that adds a noir luster to “Night Gang” and other Touch songs, believes that questioning would have happened regardless of the geographical challenges. “In the best circumstance, there’s a flow when we’re working on a tune. Everyone’s sparking ideas and inspired. It’s not work.” He adds, “In the worst moments, when we just absolutely don’t know what to do with something, it’s torturous.”

Herdon points to the early versions of “Vexations,” which became the new album’s opening track, as one such slow-torture situation. “We were confounded as to figuring out an arrangement, and things were just stuck,” he recalls. During one of the long lulls between the studio sessions, Herndon says, he got an idea for the tune. “I asked John if I could have the stems [the individual track files] for the song, and then I kind of did a reworking in the garage. Re-did the drums completely and made a breakdown section in the middle. I sent it and was like, ‘I don't know if this is anything, but here.’ And those guys seemed really excited about it.”

Herndon quickly adds that every Tortoise record has benefitted from similar experimentation. In fact, it’s the key thing, a defining characteristic: “Sometimes doing an edit will leave a space open for something else, and we’re all into that idea of, ‘What happens next?’ It’s this attitude of ‘Let’s make some music together and see what happens.’ We're all comfortable with the not knowing, with letting an idea go through many permutations.”

Along with that is the knowledge that this open-ended exploring can be time-consuming. And might possibly end in futility. McCombs says that though the band’s approach changed with Touch, the players still needed the mindset they’d used in those brainstorming rehearsals. “When I get frustrated or when we seem like we're stalling out a little bit, I just have to remember that patience is one of the things that makes this band work.”

Asked to recall a moment that required patience, McCombs doesn’t hesitate. “It seems to happen a lot with the drummers,” McCombs says. “Somebody will be like, ‘Hey John [McEntire] why don’t you play this?’ And he’ll be like, ‘I don’t wanna play it cause I hear Herndon here.’ It’s like McEntire hears Herdon and Herndon hears Bitney… That happens a lot, and then they’ll come to a consensus. Sometimes half the song will be one drummer and half the song will be another drummer. That’s kind of the way it works.”

**

It must be said: When things click into place, Tortoise is a rare force. Whether cranking out a foursquare rock backbeat or chopping time into polyrhythmic shards that defy counting (and logic), the band challenges accepted notions of what rock music can be, what moods it can evoke — that’s part of the reason the band is revered so widely, among musicians working in many genres.

Tortoise’s indescribable sonic arrays have grown more intense — and more influential — over time. Early works — the 1993 debut and the 1996 Millions Now Living Will Never Die, which opens with a twenty-one-minute suite — contrast the thick harmonic schemes of Krautrock with the similarly impenetrable densities of musique concrete, adding jarring spears of electric guitar as spice accents. The commercial breakthroughs that followed, TNT (1998) and Standards (2001) found Tortoise further expanding its toolkit: Rather than orient each piece around declarative single-line melodies, the musicians let the vast, lush, inviting scenes become a hypnotic wordless narrative, built from overlapping layers and interlocking rhythms.

Each step in the discography underscores a truth about Tortoise: The questions about arrangement and orchestration are foundational, defining the scope of the canvas and the density of the band’s exactingly precise soundscapes. There can, as McCombs notes, be multiple drummers on a track, and their beats can be supported by acoustic percussion or random electronic blippage. Likewise, on any given track, there can be multiple mallet parts, sometimes sustaining gorgeous washes of color, at other times pounding out intricate Steve Reich-style interlocked grids of harmony. There can be multiple guitars, each with its own earthshaking effects profile. (Parker laughs when he says “I’m kind of like the straight man with the guitar sounds.”) There can be multiple synthesizers — darting squiggles of lead lines crashing into asymmetrical arpeggios, or bliss-toned drones hovering in the upper-middle register like a cloud in a landscape painting.

And there can be noise, all kinds of it: While the working method of Touch meant Tortoise sacrificed some spontaneous sparks, it encouraged the musicians to explore the thickening textural possibilities of different flavors of noise (white, pink, etc). The band recently issued a set of remixes for the single “Oganesson.” The more austere, stripped-down interpretations offer telling insights about the deployment of noise as well as the track-by-track assembly process, the ways Tortoise uses open space, textural layers, and dissonances to create drama.

McEntire believes those little devices are essential to the sound. “Because we don't have a singer, we have to have a different vocabulary for creating interest. So we use all the little things, like dynamics, texture, orchestration.”

Given the intricacy of the music, McEntire explains, every little sound starts as a decision in the recording studio, and then, subsequently, becomes a logistical decision for live performance — after all, the many parts have to be executed by the five players.