MUSIC

音楽ディグをテーマに据えた漫画『ディグインザディガー』の作画を手掛けることでも知られるイラストレーター、漫画家、音楽家の駒澤零氏が主宰する東京の音楽レーベル〈KAOMOZI〉が、今年9月にリリースしていたコンピレーション・アルバム『kaomozi compilations vol​.​2』の限定カセット盤を特別にストックさせて戴きました！レーベル・ショーケース的なラインナップとなった本作は、1周年記念となる作品であり、佐々木虚像、鮭とばSKTB、零進法、ナナビット、H B、帰国子女といった近年のhyperpop以降の若手音楽シーンで活躍する作家たちによる豪華トラック群を全14曲収録。マスタリングはNaofumi Uedaが担当。版元完売。

Recording of Pavel Milyakov’s live performance for the closing night of Cyprien Gaillard’s Dumpty exhibition at Lafayette Anticipations in Paris on January 8th 2023. The automaton sculpture, Le Défenseur du Temps was being activated live during the performance. Its mechanical movements can be heard on the recording. guitar, strings resonator, effects, mixing and mastering by Pavel Milyakov cover photography by Max Paul inside photography by Timo Ohler, Oleksandra Trishyna recording by Camille Jamain design by Pavel Milyakov released on Firecamp, 2023 edition of 150

DJ Desecrator smelts 70 minutes of radical metals and synth gloom on what TTT are touting as “our best mixtape?” - a must-check for anyone who copped the DKR session or Tom Boogizm's 'Hardcore' shotta. Utterly reeking of Ork armpits and putrefied meat, ‘Ritual Giblets’ lays out a feast of extreme hard rock and metal entrails by artists who have us by the short and curlies for the duration. Bookended by cinematic scenes of doom and decay in the opening blast of horns and drizzle, and its sublime closer, the meat of the mixtape is pure BM, grind and death metal sequenced for optimal possession, replete with the sort of synth intros Conrad Schnitzler made for Mayhem, or the foul medieval atmospheres to When’s ‘Black Death’ which inspired the Norwegian BM scene and are also found on NTS’ dungeon synth survey. Not for the faint hearted but manna for headbangers. full gnarrr.

US-based, South Africa-born Brendon Moeller has been hugely prolific over the years under sever different aliases. Pathways is his newest album and is another signature blend of deep techno, dub, and ambient sounds that explore fresh ground. This one comes on cassette - a fitting medium for his always hazy, lo-fi sounds, and opens with a gorgeous stargazer loosely tethered to a dreamy groove. 'Movement' is just much of a cosmic floater, 'Accident' has static electricity fizzing about an underwater chamber and 'Through' is a slow-motion dubscape. 'Exodus' and 'Calm' close out this beautifully unhurried exploration of the deep.

Highly recommended! For all of ambient, balearic and new age fan. The previous work from <100% Silk>, which was also introduced by , just made a record-breaking hit in Bandcamp. Tokyo's notable DJ / producer, who had released a great cassette work from , has released the beautiful ambient / new age gems from . After the popular title from <100% Silk>, New cassette release from with enhanced new age / Balearic colors is very exquisite. Works recorded at home studio, focusing on hardware synths and samplers from the 80's and 90's. It is a work that pursues "images in photographs and movies of locations that have been lost with the passage of time" and "A nostalgia for a place we can never be" The best hidden work. It is as good as, and sometimes even surpasses, the works of modern revival / new age sanctuaries and reissues such as and . At the bottom is the light and quiet view of dance / deep house that is unique to this person. It's too great, it's incredible, and it's just a sigh of admiration.

Japan's composer and sound artist Yui Onodera and Grammy-nominated Takashi Kokubo are visionaries who are celebrated for their ability to cook up immersive soundscapes that captivate your attention despite their minimalist designs. Kokubo's traditional Japanese instrumentation defines the work as it sweeps you up and transports you to someone that is serene and introspective. Across four pieces here they do just that - each one unhurried and vast in sci, with delicate keys tinkling above yawning chords and spring day energies on 'Thousand Bells 1'. The second piece is a little warmer, with synth smears and distant breezes bring in all manner of elegant percussive sounds. Side two continues the exploration of the Far Eastern countryside on a sunny day in mesmerising and soothing fashion.

A fictional soundtrack of the weekends lost during the pandemic Mellow, endless melodies and lo-fi, dubby, effects-processed soundscapes. 

There is a spring after the cold winter, and “Down the Road” by Lost Weekend captures our collective reawakening. This collaborative album was born when Japanese producer/DJ duo Slowly's Masato Komatsu and Ryo Kawahara discussed and compared each other’s perspectives on music during the pandemic. 

“As the pandemic continued, how I listened to music and values within me changed.
I started to feel that the music I was making was slightly different from the real world.” 

Slowly are best known for their uptempo tunes and remixes that often utilise reggae rhythms. They are a DJ’s DJ and DJ’s producer as many of their 7-inch releases have sold out and get played on dancefloors across the globe. Their remix of Struggle For Pride’s “Make a Rainbow feat. Yoshie Nakano” was selected as one of the best songs of 2020 on Gilles Peterson on his BBC Radio 6. With reggae at the core of his roots, Masato’s eclectic sound making is highly praised, and consists of a mixture of genres with futuristic visions to serve a worldwide audience. 

Disruptions from the pandemic hit club culture hard in Japan. When Masato and Ryo sat down, and compared their music notes over this long spell, they discovered that both were inspired by a similar direction in music: exotica, balearic and chillout. With the reassurance of looking in the same direction, during this challenging time, they decided to draw upon a new canvas. Bravely taking a big step away from the Slowly sound, they present Lost Weekend, a new project, creating a fictional soundtrack “longing for the weekend” that we lost during the pandemic. 

Unfettered harsh noise from the legendary Japanese noise artist Masami Akita aka Merzbow. Tirelessly churning layers of distortion are punctuated across two tracks with glistening, jagged feedback and thrashing pulsations that lash at the ears and utterly invigorate the senses.

Immense tramplers and jigs by the whirling percussive dervish of Valentina Magaletti (Moin), João Pais Filipe (HHY & The Macumbas) & Leon Marks’ (Hey Colossus) aka CZN - huge RIYL Mark Ernestus' Ndagga Rhythm Force, Shackleton, Bernd Friedmann, Uwalmassa, Don't DJ, Photek. On their 2nd mission for TTT after 2021’s ‘Luxury Variations’, CZN come hungry for the ‘floor in all five parts of ‘Station to Station to Station’. While the title is a nod to Bowie, the EP has fuck all to do with him, and everything to do with untangling creaky limbs and showing nuff options for the aerobic mystics and polyrhythm-metered DJs. The battery of Magaletti, Filipe and Marks make a wickedly disciplined racket from drums, drums, and more drums, sealed in place with sparing dabs of triggered synth and FX. ‘Compliance Crew’ gathers their energies in a pendulous mid-tempo swirl, congas and wraithlike vocies dubbed to the rafters, before ‘Lawn Thug’ more explicitly references West African traditions, notably the tussle of Mbalax, in its pugilistic call and response, and ‘Year of the Rat’ ramps it on the slow/fast bent with rattling drums corkscrewing at angles over rudest South London subs and pads like a lost Horsepower x Hatcha fantasy. The cosmic whorl of ‘Born to Snap’ is perhaps best compared with the proggier urges of Shackleton and Bernd Friedmann, leading to a the EP’s straightest, hypnotic, 15 minute highlight of rolling linearity recalling Shackleton’s remix of Villalobos or Ron Trent deep house.

Duster is made up of two members, C. Amber and E. Parton, with occasional help from their friends on drums and recording duties. Stratosphere is mainly recorded at their home on four track. At times, they sound like Pavement and other times like Seely with higher pitched male vocals. Stratosphere demonstrates their guitar-based focus, riding on the flow of duel picking guitar melodies. With many guitars switching dynamic roles and riding on tunings, Duster sounds a bit like early Sonic Youth. Bass and drums act as the bottom, while guitars playfully find their melody by feeding off one another, throwing notes back and forth. The four-track recording element brings a wonderful space warmth or humidity to Stratosphere, which keeps you flying in the air or floating in space. A hard task with a four-track recording is the recording of the vocals. For atmospheric affect, it works. The voice provides texture to the plucking guitars, but no lyrics are understood. They act as instruments. Along with guitars and vocals, many great manipulations with tape noise as background effects exist on Stratosphere. "Echo Bravo" is definitely the highlight of the record. A long build of noise and whiny guitars rev up the track with a steady drum machine beat creating stress and tension. When is it going to give? Then, it finally busts. Distorted guitars in a heavy breakdown find their cues. Vocals appear 2:45 seconds in to deliver a depressing calming element in the lazy delivery. The record may be a bit long for some listeners, clocking in at 53 minutes. Stratosphere is best listened to at different times; tracks may be isolated or the record can be divided in parts. Duster are at their finest when they play with dynamics. Many tunes have a loud and a soft part, but they are never predictable. The transition is always interesting or takes you by surprise. ~ Francis Arres

Say She She, the soulful female-led trio, stand rock solid on their discodelic duty with their boundary breaking sophomore album Silver. The three strong voices of Piya Malik (El Michels Affair staple feature, and former backing singer for Chicano Batman), Sabrina Mileo Cunningham and Nya Gazelle Brown front the band. Following the NYC siren song, the trio was pulled from their respective cities — Piya from London, Nya from DC, and Sabrina from NYC — to Manhattan’s downtown dance floors, through the Lower East Side floorboards, and up to the rooftops of Harlem, where their friendship was formed on one momentous, kismet eve. Silver was entirely written and recorded live to tape at Killion Sound studio in North Hollywood earlier this year and produced by Sergio Rios (of Orgone). While these analog recording techniques help root Say She She’s sound in a bedrock of tonal warmth that only tape can achieve, it is also their process of cutting the track in the moment and capturing the magic of communal creativity that has seen their sound described as “a glorious overload of joyful elation and spiritual elevation” (MOJO) and “infused with the wonky post-disco spirit of early '80s NYC” (The Guardian). Musical inspirations include Rotary Connection, Asha Puthli, Liquid Liquid, Grace Jones and Tom Tom Club. Ultimately, Silver oozes with quirk and adventure and embraces the multifaceted nature of what it means to be a modern femme. Say She She fully embrace their role as beauticians, actively reminding people of the inherent beauty in the world. They skillfully employ double entendres and humor to encourage open dialogue and fearlessly address important matters that demand attention.

Holy Hour delves into the intricate theme of romantic obsession and addiction, artfully intertwining emotions and experiences to create a captivating narrative. The writer portrays the subject of their affection as the center of their universe, elevating them to the status of a metaphorical religion. With each track, the album invites listeners to explore the complexities of love, desire, and the profound impact it has on the human psyche.

DIY pop master from Saitama, JAPAN. love psychedelic pop/anime/dreamy pop

Next up in Veyl's ever-evolving and diverse catalog comes of an experimental sonic experience from Llimbs. The project of Hagen Ebejer, he began making music in the early 2000's and started Llimbs in 2016, which allowed him to officially release music and perform live, making his debut at Berlin's legendary Tresor. Now he arrives on Veyl with Midnight Amber, an 8-track album which fully realizes the Llimbs sound and vision. Inspired by dark and experimental sounds, Midnight Amber is a tour de force of genre-bending compositions, conjured using downtempo and dreamlike sounds which explore both the organic and digital. The result is an undefinable affair which is both haunting and infectious at once. 'Unfold' commences the album with a soft yet powerful piece of melodic melancholy, inviting the listener through the gates and into the world of Llimbs. 'Divergent' picks things up with a ritual work of stirring chants which leads us to the evocative chords on 'Origin'. Finishing off side A is 'Absent', a slow burning rhythmic piece which encapsulates the listener, creating an almost nostalgic atmosphere for a time unknown. 'Phase' begins the B side with cinematic flair, creating a palpable tension which then evaporates into the ether. 'Eclipse' returns to a familiar dreamworld, traversing the skies which feel both familiar yet mysterious before 'Fragment' dives deeper into a hidden universe of emotion, fusing ancient works with modern technology. Concluding the album is 'Midnight', a perfect end to a journey which exists at the intersection of the natural and mechanical, reality and surreality, marking a tremendous finale which can only lead to a new beginning.

Sam Hall’s new album as ghost orchard, ‘rainbow music’, is a collage of patience and meditation. The record was written in two halves, between the summer of 2020 and the spring of 2021, and is filled with nuances as quietly imperceptible as the seasons, or the profound movement of time, where one day looking back you realize your whole spirit has shifted. Where 2019’s critically revered ‘bunny’ was a love letter to a romantic relationship, ‘rainbow music’ documents the culmination of Hall’s first personal experience with loss in several forms. At the end of 2020, his longterm childhood pet passed away, and with it the last continuing threads of familiarity between being a kid and adulthood. Still based in the Grand Rapids, Michigan town he’d grown up in, the static ease of familiar living seemed to be coming apart at the seams, as friends moved on to bigger cities, relationships shapeshifted and in a short period of time, another kitten he’d adopted passed away prematurely, leaving Hall to question the trajectory in which he himself was headed. Recorded in the house that Hall currently lives in, ‘rainbow music’ is a timestamp of this environment. A myriad of shows used to take place at the residence, and the space still reverberates with the residual echoes of people as they pass though. Hall remains fascinated with the remnants of things left behind, and his home is replete with furniture and miscellaneous objects that reflect the core of his compositions: sonic maximalism paired with attention to detail. His music feels steeped in this place he has painstakingly decorated, where, much like the songs of ‘rainbow music,’ each individual object provides its own history and underlying connectedness to part of a greater collection. Bristling with the familiarity of being a stranger in someone else’s living quarters, amidst all their belongings and hoarded treasures, the album’s linear qualities remain rough around the edges, like gradually filling in the color of someone you’re just getting to know. “I love creating rooms,” Hall emphasizes, and this record “feels more inside of me than anything.” The oldest (and only proper love song), “soot,” was the first song to come after a period of static creativity, and effectively opened a floodgate that inspired him to finish half of ‘rainbow music’ in the forthcoming two months. Each track weighs with its own impact, as Hall grapples with endings and beginnings side by side, a rebirth that Hall equates to be as cathartic as crying. Many came about in a sudden stream of consciousness: the bare-boned structures of “rest” were recorded entirely in a day, and was an immediate reaction to his pet’s death and a way to process those feelings. More upbeat “maisy” and glitch-filled “cut” also came together tangentially to one another. “I feel more secure in my relationship to music,” Hall muses. With his previous work, “I was trying different things on, but ‘rainbow music’ feels more certain: this is me for better for worse at this period of time.” There’s a push and pull across the eleven songs, a sort of immediacy that’s made even more effective by Hall’s retrospective reflection. “comfort (rainbow)” was written in half prior to most of the grief that would alter Hall’s life, and was completed months later by the tuner who fixed the upright piano in his house. Produced almost entirely by Hall, the only further collaborator was Bennett Littlejohn (who has also contributed to Hovvdy and Katy Kirby’s projects), and these specific touches are integral to the cohesive footprint of ‘rainbow music’s miniature universes. Hall has previously described his work as “memory storage”, and in a way ‘rainbow music’ functions as an hourglass measuring out spoonfuls of both the past and future. An oscillating palette of instruments flit between acoustic guitar, piano and even fluttering drum and bass, where synths patter like barely discernible heartbeats and vocals feel more like an instrument than decipherable words. Hall has never released the lyrics to his music, but throughout the album’s insular quality sometimes you can hear smidges of the outside world from far away; a call and return echoed by repetition where meaning is sketched out in a dreamscape and a subtle darkness always surrounds the fringes. Like “songs in the key of life,” the title ‘rainbow music’ refers to the myriad of colors and qualities within Hall that are refracted throughout. It’s a symbolization of hope and the aftermath, the flickering light at the end of the tunnel (or “when a rainbow shows up after a big storm”). “Wish I could have fun anymore,” Hall ruminates on “dancing”, as well as confessing he “wish he made more upbeat bangers.” But reality packs more of a punch, and this collection of songs sees him finally be at peace with the current state of affairs. Relatable to anyone who has contemplated what it means to settle down, or even just catch your breath in an era where anguish is commonplace, the release of ‘rainbow music’ is a happy ending in its own right, a marker of survival that remains close to the bone.

The collaboration between Klara Lewis and Nik Colk Void somehow seemed inevitable. Both artists having seen their releases published by Editions Mego, individually carving out idiosyncratic voices in the worlds of extreme, abstract electronic music. With Full-On, Lewis and Void explore and assimilate the very edge of their individual practice where a unique collaborative interface allows two voices to combine and morph into a third voice. Lewis and Void play ping pong with the conversation of sounds, generating ideas and bouncing them off each other, simultaneously encouraging the other to go further with their ideas opening up an opportunity to engage with previously unexplored terrain. Guitars, synths, euro rack modular systems, voice, sampling and outboard processing are folded in a playful unification with a propensity to tease, explore and extract new ideas and shapes, sometimes brutal, sometimes playful. Trust was also a compositional tool allowing instinct to freely move on any aspect of the sound and space. This sound/feeling/instinct/association let this wild and wonderful material grow organically into something new. The result of this exploratory interplay are 17 intense miniatures reveling in the process of unadulterated experimentation and whimsical interplay, not just between the humans, but the machines themselves. United in an endless series of sonic U-turns, this daring duo intertwine pop and noise whilst also bringing together visions of tender techno and forthright ambient. The various zones manifest from all this reveals vocals shifting in mysterious ways, dust drenched beats churning limpidly and devilish string loops navigating a disorientating domain. The experience of listening to Full-On is to be confronted with a range of ideas resulting in a platter of emotions. A place where beauty and the beast collide with the impulsive and outright weird. What a wonderful world.

Innervzm II, a companion to 2022’s Innervzm, is a sprawling, meditative collection from Los Angeles-based producer, drummer, and sound architect, Raays. The EP’s title derives from a conversation between Raays and Leaving labelmate Deantoni Parks regarding “archeology of self” as a creative methodology. Innervzm, as a concept, connotes the kind of soul work that necessarily precedes and renders outward action possible, meaningful, and effective. The Innervzm II EP blends musique concréte, field recordings, and improvisational synthesis, documenting Raays’ methodical, ritualistic, and materially grounded approach to composition. Each of the EP’s six tracks was seeded by a discrete instance of deep listening (of the Pauline Oliveros variety) in environments ranging from Raays’ own backyard of Ernest Debs Pond to the thundery night time forestscapes of Michoacán. If regarded sincerely as the ever-present music of this world, how might a listener interpret the spatial and melodic interplay of, say, birdsong and the distant hum of traffic? And how might that same listener respond, musically? Innervzm II provides one such example: a keen spirit, intermittently (generally for no more than ten minutes at a time) tuning into the sonic chaos, deciphering the elements (for it is only ever really seemingly chaos), then immediately distilling this experience into song. Aided by an hourglass (as much a talisman as an actual timekeeper), and abiding by a sort of “first thought / best thought” approach to completing a track in a single sitting, Innervzm II constitutes a snapshot of an artist in an especially fruitful and transitory period of exploration. As a self-described “optimistic futurist,” the tapestry Raays weaves is indeed soothing and consoling, deftly melding the organic and the analog. A persistent albeit oscillating flutter on “Beneath Your Surface” suggests the slow-motion beating of a hummingbird’s wings. The subtle warble hidden within the EP’s opener, “Equiinox” conjures the rainbow artifacts of a VHS sunrise. Though “textural message” is the title of track five, these pieces might very well all be considered textural messages, replete as they are in soil and static, dredged (lovingly) from some place just beyond the frame of knowing. Innervzm (dubbed “Full of vibrant life” by New Age luminary Laraaji) will be paired with Innervzm II for a joint physical cassette release in June, and Raays will soon join longtime experimental/ambient luminary, The Album Leaf, as an opener and drummer on a global tour. Which is all to say, Raays is diligently tending the garden, to our collective benefit.

Ambient, hip-hop, abstract, jazz, dub, electric sounds.... TALKIE'S MOOD SOUND TRACK#1", a cassette tape work created by DJ KENSEI and Jusanga's sessions, is now available. TALKIE" is a bi-monthly event held at Brooklyn Brewery's flagship store "B" on the basement floor of K5 in Nihonbashi Kabuto-cho, Tokyo, titled Cinematic Art Salon. VIDEOGRAM) are in charge of the visuals, and the brewery's space is designed to entertain the crowds. TALKIE'S MOOD SOUND TRACK#1" will be released with the support of cassette tape label Tastee T Production. The sound sources included in the album are selected and edited from the session recordings by DJ KENSEI + Jusangga played at the event. We hope you will enjoy "TALKIE'S MOOD SOUND TRACK #1" as a complete piece of work as well as feeling the atmosphere of the event.

Lionmilk, the primary solo project of Los Angeles musician/composer/producer, Moki Kawaguchi, for some time now, operates in an explicitly therapeutic mode. 2021’s I Hope You Are Well was originally self-released during the onset of the pandemic as a limited run of home-dubbed cassettes, which Kawaguchi hand-delivered to loved ones’ mailboxes in a sort of guerrilla care campaign—a modest attempt to mitigate the sudden, profound alienation that prevailed during those early lockdown months. When Lionmilk and Leaving Records later collaborated on an official release for I Hope You Are Well, this once humble project’s impact grew exponentially, with countless fans (old and new alike) granted access to the warmth and beauty of Lionmilk’s inner circle. Intergalactic Warp Terminal 222, out March 17, 2023 on Leaving, presents the listener with yet another opportunity for deep cosmic healing. When discussing Lionmilk, Kawaguchi regularly foregrounds the absolute necessity of music-making as a form of self-care. First and foremost, he produces sounds and songs that provide him with some modicum of solace — “music to feel less whack to.” One gets the sense that he’d be doing exactly what he’s doing (exactly the way he’s doing it) even if he was the last man on earth. But he isn’t. And, in fact, one of Lionmilk’s primary concerns—evident across track titles, as well as the sung and spoken words that dot his releases—is community, or more specifically, what it means to exist and act in his community. Intergalactic Warp Terminal 222 ventures deeper into the paradoxes explored to great effect on I Hope You Are Well. How might we transmit our solitudes via music and to what extent? What does a shared solitude sound and feel like? And, in the context of this transaction, what novel relationships arise between the recording artist and the listener? The record begins with a radio transmission from the depths of Lionmilk’s celestial innerspace— “Hello. Is anybody out there? This is Lionmilk speaking, and you are tuned into the Intergalactic Warp Terminal 222. Standby. We are commencing broadcast” — a retro sci-fi movie motif that recurs throughout Intergalactic Warp Terminal 222’s 26 tracks. But space travel here functions more-so as a metaphor for deep soul work, for journeying inward, through the vast unknowns of one’s own consciousness. What follows is an intimate, diaristic song suite, grounded in the struggle to keep our hearts alive and open amidst an onslaught of daily indignities. Tracks like “daily i dream,” “lover’s theme,” and “hopeful i can change,” function as brief, instrumental meditations on those moments when hope suddenly, inexplicably eclipses despair. The soulful standout “treat yourself like a friend” contains perhaps the lyrical apotheosis of Lionmilk’s current iteration: “...I get up / to pee and drink water / treating myself a little bit softer / you do your best / today will be better / I’ll do my best / I’ll do my best / I promise.” Composed of loops, sketches, improvizations, and voice memos recorded directly to a single cassette tape, Intergalactic Warp Terminal 222 flutters, warbles, and lilts along seamlessly — an hour-long, lo-fi and jazzy paean to compassion, while clearly indebted to the ambient idiom, nevertheless constitutes some of the most politically engaged and energizing music yet from Lionmilk.

"i didn’t really get into Zelda until the quarantine of 2020. i was living alone at the time just me and the kitty. after 3-4 months i didn’t know when i was going to touch another human again and feeling really down. Breath Of The Wild was a much needed escape and became a sanctuary of sorts. it still is. the title “Six Arrows For Naydra” is a reference to a side-quest where Link paraglides down a snowy mountain alongside an ice dragon named Naydra while shooting these malice eyeballs off of her which eventually heals her illness. the first time i had this experience it felt like a fever dream."

Los Angeles-based Fabiano Do Nascimento is a multi-string guitarist and songwriter who melds the traditional idioms of his native Brazil (i.e., samba, choro) with the more contemporary and experimental strains of jazz, pop, and electronic music. Das Nuvens (“The Clouds”), out July 21, 2023 on Leaving Records, is a crisp, frequently blissful, and deceptively groove-oriented showcase from a consummate musician — a rich and varied collection of songs, all of which seem to prioritize, and thrive in, the soft and intentional spaces between notes. Raised in Rio and São Paulo before eventually relocating to Southern California as a teenager, Nascimento’s approach to guitar and songcraft is informed by an adolescence enmeshed in Brazil’s exceptionally fertile musical environs. His induction into this lineage was organic. With the encouragement and attention of a musical family, a young Nascimento learned to read music, play the piano, and dabbled with the flute before picking up guitar at age 10. His affinity for the guitar was immediate, decisive, and clear. The instrument further catalyzed his decades-long journey into the annals of Brazilian classical music. Das Nuvens constitutes the free-form, exploratory work of a musician who, having mastered a distinct musical language, seeks to apply his skill towards broader, more experimental modes of expression. Fittingly, track one — built around a contemplative, pointillistic refrain— is titled “Babel,” a reference to the legend of man’s attempt to build a tower to heaven, and how God thwarted this alleged act of hubris by shattering man’s shared language, sowing chaos and confusion. Though a stern parable on its face, it is a myth that enshrines our world’s dizzying array of languages (of modes of being), and the subsequent beauty of cultural exchange through art. In this regard, it is a fitting opening statement for an album that collapses and collages not only contemporary and classical Brazilian and pop idioms, but also the diverse range of indigenous music that Nascimento has encountered and studied in his travels as a touring musician. Recorded in Nascimento’s home studio with his longtime friend and collaborator, Daniel Santiago (who also designed the album’s art), Das Nuvens evokes windswept vistas (the plaintive “Thrdwrld” lands like Morricone gently flirting with trap), and the lush Latin American forests of Nascimento’s youth (“Aurora” in particular), while simultaneously foregrounding music’s ineffable and universally-felt capacity to sooth and inspire.

Across 8 concise vignettes, Chantal Michelle alchemizes acoustic instrumentation with a spectrum of layered feedback and field sounds, depicting fractured beauty amongst a precarious reality. Michelle’s work is characterized by intoxicating juxtaposition and enriched with an array of source material to construct immersive narrative. Much of the work here was recorded during her time in New York City, perhaps a pre-requisite to the heightened tension at play. Opening with lucid choral vocals, a mysteriously seductive anaesthesia disseminates before evaporating into surging feedback, vocals dissolving as quickly as they appeared. It’s this oscillation between states that permeates throughout the work. Whether it’s the esoteric rumbling of acoustic drones, or the radiant fusion of distorted chords amongst the warming sounds of tropical atmospheres, moments of serenity are conjured up in a space so bliss that their endings incite an immediate nostalgia. Fleeting melodies are pierced by shattering cries of feedback; gossamer tones engulfed in saturated noise. Amongst the instrumentation, buzzing field sounds tremor with hyperreal peculiarity and hallucinations shape noise into sounds of the familiar; the rumbling of an overheard aeroplane or the whirring of distant grasshoppers. Similarly, recurring motifs elicit a false sense of security in their subliminal familiarity, soon exposed as echoes, a reverberation of what was left behind. At the approaching climax, the blissful onset anaesthesia has worn off, interrupted by a powerful chorus of deep, gothic synthesis that fuels post-apocalyptic fever dreams, an unnerving and mesmerising symphony. The unresolved tension leaves us in a state of delirium, questioning if the tranquillity we experienced was ever really there. Michelle was immersed in Fleur Jaeggy’s 'The Water Statues' whilst recording, and its imprint is woven into the sonic fabric of 'Broken to Echoes'; a sublime liminal dream-state, pervaded by haunting visions. It’s a view of the world captured from inside the enclosure of a cell membrane. Through translucent mesh, we see the billowing tension of our surroundings, protected only by the most delicate walls.