MUSIC

Asthmatic Kitty Records will release 'Worst Christmas Ever!,' a single-LP collection that distills Sufjan Stevens' expansive holiday catalog—drawn from the box sets 'Songs for Christmas' and 'Silver & Gold'—into one definitive collection. The album pairs fifteen favorites, selected from more than one hundred Christmas recordings, with the newly released original song "On This Christmas (It Only Gets Better)," Sufjan's first new Christmas song in nearly fifteen years.

Mike Ladd never stopped making music; over the years he's popped up on all sorts of unexpected collaborations, soundtracked a Netflix series, and worked with visual artists in settings like the Pantheon in Paris. Still, Ladd's last solo album was more than ten years ago, and his magnum opus Welcome to the Afterfuture dropped in early 2000. Nonechosen is a granite testament to the fact that the artist has evolved and grown, but maintains the same gravitas that made his name what it is. Nonechosen is a solo album, but Ladd worked with old friends: No Surrender and Tom Degeeter collaborated on respective tracks. Once Mike got the record 95% there with his own production, he passed it on to Preservation, who, with a few well-placed tweaks, elevated the project to new heights. Backwoodz Studioz is honored to be part of Ladd's comet-like return, introducing this seminal artist to a new generation of hip-hop fans.

Come Back Down, the new album by Nashville experimental-pop duo Total Wife, was born from the edge of sleep. When composer and producer Luna Kupper would begin to fall asleep during late-night mixing sessions, the songs would follow her into the halfway place between dream and lucidity. Like Dale Cooper in Twin Peaks, she’d wake with a new perspective on the puzzle she was piecing together. “I’m a psychological mixer — I’m trying to think of how someone’s experiencing the sound, versus getting stuck in trying to make all these different tones and using all this gear to make something sound a certain way,” Kupper says. And like a spiral from waking life into dream, the songs on Come Back Down are endlessly self-referential, building whole universes from a single point. Kupper sold all of her synths to make rent before she started working on the album, and so every inorganic sound is instead built from samples of the band’s own work. A guitar on one song may be reprocessed and used as a synth on the next, while everywhere on the album vocal samples are taken from a single unreleased cover of Elliott Smith’s “Between the Bars.” In tribute to this process, the album was almost named The Julia Set after the mathematical equation which feeds into itself again and again, creating beautiful fractal images. The intention was to create something complex but accessible; experimental, yet precise and without abstraction. In her lyrics, too, main vocalist and co-composer Ash Richter is as straightforward as she’s ever been. She drew on her experience of pandemic isolation to write about connection and disconnection, using her lyrics as a tool for the communication that was missing in everyday life. On the soaring, shoegazey track “peaches”, a storm that forced the cancellation of a recording session became a metaphor for emotional distance. “still asleep” chronicles Richter’s euphoria after Total Wife’s first tour, and watches it begin to curdle into paranoia. “Thank the full moon, my heart is overflowing,” she sings, before: “Is there such a thing as too happy?” The experience of isolation was prompting Richter to think back to her childhood, a time marked for her by solitude and natural play — climbing trees, making mud pies, getting lost in the woods. On tracks like “in my head” and “second spring”, she uses the imagery of nature to recall that time and forge a connection with her lonely inner child. “I feel connected with transcendentalist writing and magical realism — trying to convey things in a concrete way, but with that element of psychology and mystery,” she says. Richter and Kupper, friends from high school, formed Total Wife in 2016, relocating from Boston to Nashville in 2020. Both are visual artists as well as musicians, which they incorporate into their work with Total Wife via layered and purposeful visuals. A DIY streak underpins everything that they do — from handling their own artwork and music videos to recording their own music, releasing tapes through their label Ivy Eat Home, and hosting house shows in the basement they’ve christened Ryman 2. In Nashville they’ve settled into a weirdo scene living under the record industry’s floorboards, a hive of collaborative and creative energy that has made them excited to call the city home. They also assembled a live band for the first time shortly after moving to Nashville, consisting of Ryan Bigelow, Sean Booz and Billy Campbell — injecting their creative process with a jolt of spontaneity and aliveness that has fed back into Come Back Down.

Yaphet is the new album from rapper Curly Castro- also known as one half of the dynamic duo Shrapknel- out September 18, 2026, on Backwoodz Studioz. On Yaphet, Castro draws inspiration from the Blaxploitation film genre of the 1970’s; using that era’s black heroes and antiheroes as a launching pad for his cinematic lyricism. Flows switch as effortlessly as camera angles; verses are saturated with references and entendres; it’s an endlessly rewind-worthy rap masterclass. But Yaphet is also Castro’s first solo album since 2021’s Little Robert Hutton, and beneath the fireworks, this album reflects the depth of his experiences in those intervening years. “I didn’t set out to be so honest about my life, but that’s what came out and the album is better for it,” Castro explains, “from facing the death of my infant daughter, to my father’s death, to facing my own impending mortality, these are my most vulnerable blades, on my deepest cuts.” Like Castro, this record marches to the beat of its drum, and make no mistake, there are drums a-plenty for the veteran MC to spar with, as only he can. Produced entirely by Milwaukee beat maker Locust, Yaphet is a bouncy, eclectic listen that nods to its influences, without ever looking backward. Castro is joined by a whirlwind of the genre’s finest: billy woods, PremRock, Fatboi Sharif, Brian Ennals, SKECH185, Blueprint, AJ Suede, shemar, ALASKA, Sunmundi, blackchai, & Margel the Sophant.

Haruomi Hosono, the pioneering Japanese musician, producer, composer, and founding member of Yellow Magic Orchestra and Happy End, has “found his voice in a late career renaissance," writes The Wire. His five-decade legacy continues to grow and attract new fans, and has been cited by an acclaimed list of artists, including Mac DeMarco, Cameron Winter, Ginger Root, Vampire Weekend, and Harry Styles. Shaped by mid-century American music, Hosono's work now reverberates back through a new generation of Western artists—a remarkable circular exchange.

Yours Sincerely, his 23rd studio album and first collection of new music in over seven years, finds Hosono ever-pushing his exploratory songcraft: “I am now 78 years old, but from here on, I feel a growing curiosity toward the unknown music that my new self will create, while also embracing the music of my former self—as if I now carry two musical worlds within me.” Across arrangements that span tender psych-folk and bubbling avant-pop, Hosono contemplates the concept of a maternal force that envelops the Earth, “humanity’s understanding of the unconditional love possessed by those who give us life,” he says. Songs tap into a collective current, engaging the “deeply buried instincts—maternal compassion and mercy, things we rarely engage with in our daily lives.”

The work represents an artistic and subconscious shift. Several tracks feature female vocalists, such as “Note of Mothership”, a group-chanted expression of childlike wonder, “To a Wild Rose”, which delights with oceanside hums and prose, and on the elegant, marching “Figlio Perdute.” “This was a completely new approach for me,” he adds.

The unofficial title track, “Sincerely”, frames the legend in his signature mode, strumming, singing, playfully pondering the answer to a simple question. How do you express the Japanese ideas of omoiyari (compassion), jihi (慈悲), or boseiai (母性愛) in English? Hosono explains, “I searched, but no word felt quite right. Each came close, yet carried a slightly different nuance…I turned to a more familiar word often used to close a letter: ‘Sincerely.’”

“It is in this spirit that I offer this album to you—sincerely, from the heart.”

Bad Brains is the self-titled debut studio album recorded by American hardcore punk/reggae band Bad Brains. Recorded in 1981 and released on (then) cassette-only label ROIR on February 5, 1982, many fans refer to it as "The Yellow Tape" because of it's yellow packaging. Though Bad Brains had recorded the 16 song Black Dots album in 1979 and the 5-song Omega Sessions EP in 1980, the ROIR cassette was the band's first release of anything longer than a single. The release includes the original liner notes by Ira Kaplan of Yo La Tengo. This reissue marks the second release in the remaster campaign on the band's own Bad Brains Records imprint with Org Music. In coordination with the band, Org Music has overseen the restoration and remastering of the iconic Bad Brains' recordings. The audio was mastered by Dave Gardner at Infrasonic Mastering.

Capturing the raw, melodic sounds of 90’s second wave emo - Jejune’s 1997 album Junk is anything but. Blending dual vocals, massive drums, and riffs stacked on riffs, this is the blueprint for indie bands to follow.

Big Crown Records is proud to present Forever & Ever, the debut album from Thee Heart Tones.Hailing from Hawthorne, California, Thee Heart Tones are both carrying on a tradition and pushing the boundaries with their music. Lead singer Jazmine Alvarado is just 19 years old and the oldest member of the group, Jorge Rodriguez is 21, but one listen to their record and it becomes blatantly apparent they are a talent well beyond their years.Thee Heart Tones are Jazmine on vocals, Ricky Cerezo on keys and organ, Jorge on drums, Jeffrey Romero on bass, Peter Chagolla on lead guitar, and Walter Morales on rhythm guitar. As the story goes, "one day I got a DM from Ricky Cerezo asking if I wanted to write a song for his new (then unnamed) band," Jazmine says. "I knew his drummer and the other boys from middle school, so they were familiar faces. They sent me an mp3 of an instrumental they'd written and told me they wanted lyrics, so I wrote some and sent it to them." That song ended up being "Don't Take Me as a Fool," a downbeat, minor key ballad on which Jazmine's sultry, pitch-perfect vocals soar, and which is now destined for their debut album. Ricky went home to play "Don't Take Me As a Fool", recorded as a voice note on his phone, to his dad. "I was hesitant. Dad knew this music better than anyone; he grew up with it. But he grabbed my phone and held it to his ear. His approval meant a lot to me. But he had the same reaction Jorge and I did when we first heard Jazmine sing. 'This is going to be a hit,' he told me. 'You guys have something really special here'." It was that same recording that caught the ears of Leon Michels and Danny Akalepse of Big Crown Records, who both heard the potential in the group immediately. After they signed to the label, Leon flew out to Los Angeles to record their debut album with Tommy Brenneck at Tommy's Diamond West studio. They knocked out 14 songs in five days, capturing the charm of teenage soul and mixing it with their seasoned production prowess and the result is a modern classic Soul album.Album opener and title track "Forever & Ever" is an infectious two-stepper that instantly lifts your mood while heavy duty B side ballads like "Should I Call You Tonight", "Cry My Tears Away", and "It's Time" hold court with the genre's classics. They pick up the pace and fill the dancefloor with "Need Something More" as Jazmine matter of factly sets the record straight on a Northern Soul styled track. They cover the Álvaro Carrillo penned classic "Sabor A Mi" to great effect, doing it justice and putting their version right up there with the best of them. Another standout is their version of The Vanguards classic "Somebody Please" which they change the tone of and take to a different level. The punching drums of "No Longer Mine" juxtapose Jazmine's honeyed vocals and wind up with the gritty energy of a mid 90s hip hop sample.Forever & Ever is both a testament to their unmistakable musical chemistry and talent. Their intentions as a band are testament to their collective character. Choosing to cover "Sabor A Mi" "allows us to let our audience know we go back to our roots," Jazmine says. "Growing up in LA, you get influenced by the city, the artwork, the music," Ricky says. "Dad didn't own a lowrider car, but other members of our family did. Impalas. El Caminos. We were influenced by the culture, particularly the Chicano culture. And oldies and soul music played a big part." The style. The culture. The nod to the past. "That's what we're going for. We want to connect young Chicanos with their heritage. And we want to unite people — old and young."

Hailu Mergia is a one-man band. In 1985, master accordionist and veteran bandleader, arranger and keyboardist released the Hailu Mergia & His Classical Instrument cassette. In a nostalgic effort to bring back the vintage accordion sound of his youth, Hailu gave Ethiopian music a sonic makeover. He was already celebrated for his work with the groundbreaking Addis Ababa ethio-jazz and funk outfit Walias Band. With imagination and a visionary sense of the self-contained possibilities of modern music, he captured the popular sounds of the past using the modern tools of the day. Hailu Mergia weaves Moog and DX7 synthesizers, Rhodes electric piano and rhythm machine into the rich harmonic layering of his accordion, creating hauntingly psychedelic, elegantly arranged instrumentals. These tunes draw from famous traditional and modern Ethiopian songs, as Hailu brilliantly matches lush Amhara, Tigrinya and Oromo melodies with otherworldly flavors soaked in jazz and blues, synthesizing a futuristic landscape. He balances Ethiopian music's signature melodic shape with beautiful analog synth touches, floating upon clouds of hypnotically minimal rhythm tracks. Hailu Mergia was born in Debre Birhan, Showa Province, Ethiopia in 1938 (1946 in the European calendar) to parents Tewabech Ezineh and Mergia Lulessa, who were of Amhara and Oromo ancestry, respectively. His mother took him to Aynemisa, close to Addis, where he grew up from age 3 until he was 10 when they moved to the capital Addis Ababa. Hailu went to Shimelis Habte high school but dropped out before graduating. In 1952 (1960 in European calendar), he joined the army music department as a boy scout to support his mother. Mergia stayed in the army almost two years, learning how to read and write music. After Hailu left the army, he started singing in small bars as a freelance musician. He joined various pick-up bands, touring across the Ethiopian provinces as a singer and accordion player for almost a year. After the group broke up, he started performing in nightclubs like Addis Ababa, Patrice Lumumba, Asegedech Alamrew, Sombrero, Zula Club and others. At Zula Club he and his mates formed Walias Band and did something no other band in Ethiopian nightclub history had done: they started buying their own musical instruments. Until then the club owners were supplying the instruments and had the power to fire musicians at will. For the first time ever Walias Band signed a contract with the owner of Venus Club as a group thereby protecting themselves from club owners. Mergia and Walias Band went on to do gigs at hotels like Wabi Shebele and the Hilton. After playing almost eight years at the Hilton Hotel, Mergia and Walias Band came to the United States and toured widely in 1982-1983. Afterwards, some of of the band stayed in America while others went back to Addis. That was a heartbreaking time for the band. They considered themselves a family, and they knew they had broken new ground in the history of Addis nightclub musicians. They had helped make the Ashantis Band from Kenya famous in Addis. They were the first private band who played for state dinners at the palace for the Derg government (twice). And, they were the first private band to tour the USA. After the break-up of Walias Band, Mergia settled in the States and formed Zula Band with Moges Habte and Tamiru Ayele, playing in different restaurants and touring in the States and Europe. At that time, Mergia made a one-man band recording with accordion for the first time, mixing in Rhodes electric piano, Moog synthesizer and a rhythm machine. That was 1985. This recording was inspired by the early memories of his first instrument, the accordion. After the break-up of Zula Band in 1992, he quit performing and ran Soukous Club for seven years with his partners Moges and Tamiru. Nowadays he's making his living as a self-employed taxi driver at Dulles International Airport while continuing to record his music and practice as often as possible. The reissue of this recording brings back a moment when Ethiopian music was shifting from acoustic-based performances to recordings using more and more synthesized elements. While the results of that shift have their critics Hailu Mergia's initial experiments with solo instrumental music based on Ethiopian folk and popular music captures a singular feeling dripping in ambiance and very human emotional energy.

Ambient field recordings collected across the Western Sahel. Sounds of desert oases, late night radio broadcasts, village calls to prayer, and riverboats drifting down the Niger river. A nice companion piece to the musical work from the blog, this an hommage to the sounds that don't always find their way onto records.

Originally released in 1977 and expanded for a 1995 edition by Musica Elettronica Viva founder member Allan Bryant, 'Space Guitars' uses no electronics, Bryant instead prepares and plays his modified instruments to remodel the sound into unclassifiable waves, clusters of bleeps and insectoid chirps. Bryant wasn't averse to electronic music - he started an influential electronic improv act with Alvin Curran, after all - but he didn't want to rely on synths to make "fascinating new and completely different sounds." And 'Space Guitars' collects studies he made specifically for guitar, whether it immediately sounds like it or not. The title track alone is mindbogglingly unique, making Derek Bailey and Fred Frith's prepared jammers sound almost pedestrian in comparison. We're not completely sure what Bryant is doing, but using only amplification and his arsenal of instruments, he creates sounds with as much variance and texture as a room filled with synthesizers, constantly modifying the pitch and any identifying sonic markers to prevent us from hearing anything that might be too straightforward. It's hard to believe 'Bouncing People Planet' isn't firing from a rack of modules; the way Bryant stacks his ping-ponging string sounds is undoubtedly inspired by synth methodologies and the sound itself is confounding, dense and rhythmic in ways you struggle to comprehend. Best of all though is 'Space Train', where Bryant makes his guitar sound like one of Alan Lamb's legendary aeolian harps, stretching its strings to make it mimic train wheels moving across miles of track.

Guess-again specialists Death Is Not The End reissue Earle Brown’s 1974 solo debut of otherworldly concrète, notably featuring piano by live electronics pioneer and Cage foil, David Tudor, contributing to its uncanny magnetic tape soundscapes. ‘Music by Earle Brown’ features compositions written 1952-1963 during the years after its maker moved to New York to be closer to kindred spirits Merce Cunningham, John Cage, and David Tudor, whom he met years prior when they performed in Denver where he was teaching the Schillinger technique of composition. In New York, his style of open form composition would influence Cage’s own developments guided by indeterminacy, which in turn exposed Brown’s music to Pierre Boulez and Bruno Maderna, and whch led him to work with Morton Feldman, as heard on their 1962 split side - Brown’s first recording credit, for Time Records. The four works speak to the pivotal emergence of new music during that era. In chronological order, ’November 1952’ features a stop/start angularity, shards of keys and persuasive detonations precisely performed by David Tudor, gripping in its embrace of negative space, contrasting with the fractious concrète cut-up tones of ‘Octet I’, a 1953 piece composed and executed entirely by Brown and comparable as much with Stockhausen’s early electronics as the oddities emerging from Pierre Henry’s studio around that same time. Forward ten years to the album’s long-form bookends, where he conducts an acoustic octet in the fever dream-like play of dissonance and queered pitches on ‘Novara’ (1962), and conducts many of the same performers, and joins them on magnetic tape, for ‘Times Five’ (1963), a fascinating electro-acoustic whorl of rich colours and icicle rhythms that slips off the page into sustained, pitch bent notes with an effect that must have felt radical at the time, and still represents the curiosity and freedoms of the New York School of composers.

DINTE present a cassette-only issue of an NTS radio broadcast from back in early 2019. "A cross-continental trip through instrumental surf, short-run garage rock, and space-age psych oddities from across the globe, incl. groups from the US, UK, Peru, Angola, Thailand, Japan, Indonesia, India & Singapore among others."

Required listening for computer music freaks, 'Synthesized Voices' originally appeared in 1976, collecting innovative composer Charles Dodge's prophetic vocal experiments - recordings of Mark Strand's surrealist poems recreated on Bell Laboratories' uncanny synthetic speech tech. If you're into Anton Bruhin's deranged 'Speech Poems', this'll hit the spot. You've got to applaud DINTE for the timing of this one. Right now, it's hard to tell what's a real voice and what's been cobbled together using LLM tech, Frankensteined from decades of scraped voiceovers and newsreels. Synthesized voices are stapled to short form content and used to provide an air of humanity to mass-generated robo-slop. And listening to Dodge's set of pioneering studies, it's remarkable how the technology has evolved in such a short period of time. In the early '70s, when Dodge began his investigations, heavily synthesised voices were terrifyingly mechanical, usually used to depict malign forces - just cop any of those vintage Doctor Who episodes that feature Cybermen. What's fascinating is that Dodge seems to understand its crucial limitation; he doesn't attempt to make the voice sound more human (and therefore more tolerable), but mirrors Strand's absurdist logic instead, going beyond the limit of the larynx. Dodge explains that he labels it computer music because it's the Bell Labs computer setup that analysed and synthesised the voices, but he's quick to say that it's not generative music. Each poem was recorded to tape first then fed into the mainframe, that was then able to recreate the language using a pre-loaded archive of words and phrases. This would have resulted in a dry study, so Dodge tested the limits of the system by reconfiguring the parameters beforehand, shifting the pitch contour, the formants and duration of the syllables to radically diverge from the way we actually speak. The eight-minute 'In Celebration' is a great starting point. Composed in 1975, it seemingly shreds Strand's poem of the same name, in actuality locating its spirit, hanging on the word "you" just like Strand does. Dodge works with speed and pitch radically, twisting the phrases into machine-gunned barrages or disorienting decelerated harmonies. The words are still there - "your lungs prepare themselves for an ashen feeling" is a banger - but they've become hoarse, noisy growls or synthetic cries. The four part 'Speech Songs' is lighter, rooted in poems that were intended to invite audiences to respond with laughter, yet there's something even more disturbing about a computerised voice noisily bellowing out the same word, stuttering and getting stuck on throwaway rhymes. Really, Dodge hits his stride with the ambitious 'The Story of Our Lives', an "operatic dialogue for male and female synthetic voices" that we'd love to think Robert Ashley heard. There's a similar commitment to breaking down the formula of theater and opera on display here as Dodge corrupts these mundane utterances, forcing out near-songs and high drama from soap opera-ready domestic situations. With Dodge at the controls, the words shift haphazardly from recognizable to horrifyingly alien for almost no reason whatsoever, adding a sense of danger to what might regularly be daytime telly. It's an astute skewering of American culture that's maybe more relevant now than it ever was.

Equiknoxx’s crackshot screwball Gavsborg meets Grammy-nominated bassist Pele Fyah on a tracky soca and zouk style knees-up blessed with dreamy, discoid synth hooks and wickedly weirdo phrasing. 10 years since Equiknoxx’s landmark debut LP of skewed dancehall on DDS, and chasing up his Carrier collab, Gavsborg maintains an expressively off-kilter style and pattern on ‘Black Roses’, all bolstered by Pele Fyah’s spring-heeled steppas basslines, as formerly found in his band Raging Fyah. Limber like Usain, they bolt the traps at pace in the soca x digidub zinger ‘Black Roses Corner’ and brilliantly temper the momentum in 'Sak Pase', zipping up singeli-esque 16th note trills on swingeing bassline and tropical breeze pads. A killer ‘Spice Island Social Club’ tilts into something like Kraftwerk gone zouk, before they send it cosmic on a standout closer ‘Laventille Space Program’, recalling Hieroglyphic Being and Denis Wise astral-projecting the dance in its corkscrewing craftiness. Tip!

I hope that everyone who listens to this album will be able to feel a little happiness.

The above sentence was written by Nujabes himself as an introduction to the album "modal soul" on tribe at the time of its release. He did not dare to mention the contents of the songs on the album, but rather expressed his own wishes in his comments on the album, hoping that people would actually listen to the album and empathize with the songs.

Nujabes has been expressing various thoughts and feelings through the world of sound, and their second album is finally released on 2LP.

nujabes passed away suddenly in February 2010 due to an accident, and this "metaphorical music" is the first album he put all his energy into after releasing mainly analog singles until then. It is a masterpiece that continues to be loved by many even now, and is the core of nujabes and hydeout productions. It is a historical masterpiece that contains many of the great songs that defined his presence. The first chapter of his miraculous mental landscape music, in which a piece of his soul that burned briefly but fiercely resides, has been released on cassette tape after a lapse of 20 years.

Gary Sullivan's Bodega Pop project returns to Dinte with a cassette-only collection of traditional sounds plucked from CDRs found in the night-markets of Savannakhet, Vientiane, and Luang Prabang. "In Lao PDR, music was seemingly everywhere. Walking through an open field outside Savannakhet to the sound of someone playing a khaen on a distant porch, the bracing rush of electronic molam from of one of Vientiane’s many aging malls, the awkward blending of the blind so u player’s voice with the bustling sounds of Luang Prabang’s night market. It was in that UNESCO World Heritage Site that I found most of the CDs and CD-Rs from which I’ve ripped the tracks for this compilation. I’m almost certain I picked up a thumb drive at the night market that held many hours of additional music that could have been included, but if so, I’ve misplaced it, lost it for good, or simply misremember purchasing it in the first place. What I do remember is that these discs were literally the last copies in the cafe, museum, bookstore, and night market where I bought them, and not all of them played all the way through without sonic deterioration. The sounds compiled here play in stark contrast to the more contemporary recordings I found in Laos, most of which featured some form of upbeat digital workstation molam or children’s songs. In addition to the ever-present khaen, this collection includes recordings of the sanai, a single-reed instrument fashioned from a water buffalo horn, the ceremonial khong nyai gong, the pi and similar free-reeds, and at least a dozen more traditional instruments played by Lao and ethnic minority artists. While some of these tracks were laid down in Vientiane or Luang Prabang, most were recorded near where the artists lived, from the legendary Vat Phou in the far south to the former Pathet Lao capital Xam Neua in the northeast. Unlike Laurent Jeanneau’s more focused Lao collections for Akuphone and Sublime Frequencies, which remain among my favorite albums of all time, the present cassette-only selection is literally all over the PDR map. The sequencing is entirely in response to rhythm and texture and includes recordings from the 1970s, 80s, 90s, and early aughts. This may frustrate those with more of an ethnomusicology bent, but my hope is that the listener experiences something akin to wandering for the first time through this majestic country, encountering the last copies of forgotten recordings one after another, and hearing in these remains fragments of the past and a living musical landscape." – Gary Sullivan

The genesis of "Nosthaigia" is as fascinating as the music itself. Onra spent several years living in Thailand, immersing himself in the vibrant culture and scouring local record shops for rare gems. The result is a collection of Thai songs from various genres, all sourced on 7 inches. These short instrumentals serve as time capsules, transporting listeners to a bygone era filled with nostalgia and longing. Produced entirely on the MPC1000 in 2017 and revisited in 2020, "Nosthaigia" is a testament to the power of serendipity and artistic evolution. What began as a casual exploration of unfamiliar musical territory blossomed into a deeply personal and meaningful project for Onra. Amidst a series of unfortunate life events, he found solace and inspiration in the beats he had crafted years prior. Each track on "Nosthaigia" is a reflection of his journey, a sonic expression of longing and introspection. Onra describes the process of creating the album as a cathartic release, a way of letting go of old memories and embracing the present. Despite the somber undertones, there is a quiet beauty to "Nosthaigia" that is impossible to ignore. Onra's vintage production skills breathe life into each track, infusing them with warmth and depth. From the haunting melodies of "Until The End" to the hypnotic rhythms of "Close Your Eyes And Remember" every moment feels poignant. Onra's decision to "remove all the bangers" from the album speaks volumes about his artistic integrity and dedication to authenticity. "Nosthaigia" is not about flashy beats or catchy hooks; it's about raw emotion and genuine expression. It's a reminder that music has the power to heal, to uplift, and to connect us to something greater than ourselves. In the end, "Nosthaigia" is more than just an album; it's a testament to the human experience. It's a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there is beauty to be found, if only we're willing to listen.

Catching up with Thee Sinseers ahead of their new Colemine Records release, Love Stories, one thing becomes abundantly clear: this is not an LP that explores a neat and tidy love story. The vision of love put forth on this record is full-spectrum. Think of the seminal 1993 East LA film Blood In Blood Out — three protagonists bound together through hardship, strife, and diverging roads, who ultimately circle back to reckon with why they remain. It's a similar story here. Love Stories isn't interested in the happy ending. It's interested in everything that comes before it, after it, and in spite of it. Of course, none of this is accidental. More than a new record, Love Stories is a portrait of a band that has finally grown into itself — one that knows exactly who it is and isn't shy about saying so. As Quiñones puts it: "It's a solidifying statement of where we are now. This is our style." Bassist Christopher Manjarrez described that confidence as something you can hear: "Everything was just that notch up." In contrast to Sinseerly Yours, which had developed organically from a four-piece into an eleven-member ensemble, Love Stories was built from the ground up as a collective effort — every role established before the band entered the studio. "We went in knowing these are the roles that are gonna be played by these people," Quiñones says. "Everybody was considered wholeheartedly in every arrangement aspect." That collective approach extended into the sonic choices themselves. Every member zoomed out — listening not just to their own parts but to the record as a whole, what Quiñones calls thinking like "a beautiful painting" rather than a collection of individual tracks. With that foundation in place, the band handed the final mix to engineer Kelly Finnigan. "We could get so far with our opinions," Quiñones admits, "but at the end of the day there's still 10 or 11 of us trying to figure out what's right." The band also leaned into earthier instrumentation — standup bass, guitars run through amplifiers for a warmer sixties-adjacent tone — pulling inspiration from wherever it presented itself, even the most unlikely of places. It's that cross-genre thinking that Quiñones sees as the record's defining quality. "It didn't feel like we were making soul music at any point," he says. "It felt like we were making our music." But the sonic ambition of Love Stories only tells half the story. The band sought to capture something more honest than a highlight reel — showcasing the highs and lows of romantic relationships while expanding the frame to include the familial, the complicated, and the unresolved. On "Let's Fall In Love (Again)," Quiñones's protagonist pleads for a second chance before stopping mid-song to acknowledge his own role in the heartbreak — trading wishful fantasy for something far more honest. It's that kind of emotional candor that runs throughout the record. The band's parents appear in the album art, their own love stories folded into the record's visual identity, some of those stories still standing, others not. As Manjarrez puts it: "Every single song title directs you down a different road of love — whether you win or lose." Quiñones wanted listeners to sit with that ambiguity. "Love is never-ending," he says. "It stretches beyond lifetimes. I want people to still be confused — I want it to be left like an open book." To achieve what they're reaching for, every member of Thee Sinseers has had to check their ego at the door — and mean it. "The sense of ego is, in a weird way, non-existent when it comes to recording and writing," Quiñones says. "We're all fans of each other at the end of the day." It's the kind of trust earned on the road, forged through years of shared miles and close quarters — and reflected in a lineup that welcomed new additions seamlessly, including expanded roles for familiar faces and string arrangements from newcomer Skip Heller that push the songs into new territory. That spirit of trust extends to their partnership with Colemine Records, built on patience and creative freedom. "Terry's like a homie," Quiñones says. "He gives us his input but we get a lot of freedom because he trusts us." For a band still actively defining itself on its own terms, that kind of label support isn't just appreciated — it's essential. Yet one thing remains constant throughout: Thee Sinseers' commitment to where they come from. That East LA identity doesn't announce itself — it simply exists, woven into the fabric of the music without being worn as a badge. As Francisco Flores puts it: "We're from here. You can hear it a thousand miles away. You can't deny it — but we don't try to. It just comes out that way." Nowhere is that more apparent than on "Minute by Minute," which Quiñones describes as the album's most neighborhood-feeling moment — a slow dance number that conjures the gymnasiums of Roosevelt and Garfield High, intimate and unhurried, like a memory you didn't know you were making. There's no performance of heartbreak here, just the real thing. Like an unsent love letter finally delivered, Love Stories carries the weight of everything that was felt but never quite said. The universality of that feeling is perhaps best captured in Quiñones's own words: "It's never too late to change. It's never too late to tell a person you love that you love them." After any song on this record, Eric Johnson says, there's really only one appropriate response. "Damn."

In celebration of the album’s 20th anniversary, MM..FOOD has been repackaged with all new artwork by Sam Rodriguez! Originally released in 2004, MF DOOM's MM..FOOD is hailed as a classic hip-hop album full of inventive production, remarkable wordplay, and unique themes. Celebrated for its seamless blend of humor, wit, and social commentary, the album ushers listeners into a bizarre world of food-related metaphors, painting a bitterly comedic portrait of a life tainted by vice, violence, and jealousy. It was a brilliant and novel concept that gave DOOM plenty of room to explore the album’s subjects. Throughout MM..FOOD, DOOM embeds complex ideas within seemingly simple narratives. Album opener “Beef Rapp” is a multi-pronged metaphor reminding listeners of the dangers involved in the glorification of conflict, especially within the rap game. “Hoe Cakes” borrows its name from the sweet, hot water cornmeal patties, which he uses as a symbol to rhyme about indulgence and excess. Continuing the motif, DOOM uses the Madlib-produced “One Beer” to fold layers of depth about escapism and ego, while the popular “Rapp Snitch Knishes” critiques the self-incrimination and contradictory behaviors of some rappers. Overall, MM..FOOD is both a social commentary and a piece of social satire, showcasing MF DOOM’s ability to blend serious themes with his unique, playful lyrical style.

The Unwound album that ended all Unwound albums. Recorded in a moldering farmhouse basement at the crest of the new century, Leaves Turn Inside You is the no-wave response to Spector’s wall of noise call. Infinite layers of choppy guitar stabs and bridge scrapes, guttural bass thronk, thrift store synths, and monotone chanting wash over suffocating rhythms to deliver the world’s only choral grunge LP. Remastered from the original analog tapes and pressed on heavyweight vinyl for the discerning noise-nik.

As C418, composer and producer Daniel Rosenfeld designs sounds to resonate in both physical and pixelated realms. Best known for his original soundtracks to Minecraft, the single best-selling video game of all time, he's developed a discography of instrumental music over the last decade that traverses electronic pop patterns, neo-classical dreamscapes, and sparse ambient motifs. The latter element has broken from the "8-bit" pigeonholing of game music and earned him accolades that reference artists like Erik Satie (The Guardian) and Brian Eno (VICE). In 2015, after quietly self-releasing Minecraft Volume Alpha and Minecraft Volume Beta, Rosenfeld partnered with Ghostly International to reissue Minecraft Volume Alpha on vinyl and CD. The release garnered attention from proper music critics and the gaming community alike, becoming one of the most sought after records in the Ghostly catalog. Following several restocks of Alpha to fervent fan response, the soundtrack's second installment got its first pressing in 2020. Originally self-released in 2013, the collection features tracks that were "silently" added to Minecraft during its music updates and a few that never officially entered the game. Across Volume Beta, Rosenfeld's unmistakable abilities are on display; he creates a sweeping variety of musical ideas that mirror the limitless universe of Minecraft.

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.