MUSIC

Parasymbiosis – the ability of two separate organisms to exist closely together I have long pondered the concept of connectedness in relation to life’s existence. The Dalai Lama teaches that destruction of one’s neighbour equates to destruction of oneself. In contrast, modern Western culture has placed the individual at the epicentre of existence – to the detriment of non-humans and humans alike. Ecological Memory influences present or future responses of a community; it is this shared memory that enables organisms, objects and the environment to connect to each other, and to the other. What happens when a community or ecological system loses this memory, this connection? The systems begin to break down; intergenerational memory evolves in rapid short steps, culture and connection becomes unrecognisable. Time speeds up. Yet with the naked eye, the universe reflects slow time. Its very distance provides a sense of stasis. Understanding the night sky could very well be the vastness of time we have forgotten through our ecological memory, our loss of the visible difference between the likes of night and day; non-referenceable and dictated by intangible rhythms that exist beyond the cyclic elements of nature. Through Parasymbiosis I imagined sounds of the inherent connection between the earth and the universe. Contemporary society has rendered invisible the heritage of the night sky and what it teaches us. The wonder and awe it inspires, in its pure, unadulterated form untouched by light pollution and modern satellite activity, has always informed non-human and human life cycles and human culture. In modern times, only 40% of human beings can still see the Milky Way. We have forgotten that the dark sky and the earth reflect each other – they are, as a metaphor, parasymbiotic. The Electric Cristal (EC) features strongly in Parasymbiosis. It is a microtonal, electro-acoustic instrument that has captured my imagination through its deep and fragile resonance created by touching glass rods encased in aluminium. Ceated by Dylan Crismani (AUS) in 2019, the EC conjures vast soundscapes. Electronics exploit the volatile vibrations and random frequencies that the instrument generates.

Following our 2024 self-titled release, Nick and I were compelled to make another record, expanding on the distinctive sound world we have found as the duo Driftwood. Grounded in the unique instrumentation of two microtonally re-tuned pump organs, alongside clarinets and guitars, the sonic landscape of Driftwood has become a welcoming place for us to inhabit together. The distinctive characteristics of these instruments, as well as the challenge of playing multiple instruments simultaneously, have become a frame we've leaned into more and more, trusting the vitality of their combined resonance to lead us further into uncharted paths of improvisation. For our second album, we wanted to incorporate additional elements from each of our solo practices into our sound: modular synth, effects pedals, electric guitar and contact mic’s (because playing two instruments at the same time wasn’t enough for us!) In ‘Maps’, electronics are subtly worked back into the original improvisations, saturating the live instrumentation with bass undertones and signal processing, pushing the sound into more otherworldly realms. Sometimes the pieces hint toward song-like forms, with repetitive guitar ostinatos lulling the music to the edge of familiarity, while other times the drones and harmonies blur, creating the ground from which glimpses of folk-like melodies surface, as if from a long-forgotten dream.

cobs, an essential figure of avant-garde cinema, and I had over-a-decade-long collaboration. We first performed fo his Nervous Magic Lantern project at the Argos Festival in Brussels in 2007. Before flying to Europe, Ken invited me to the top-floor loft on Chambers Street in TriBeCa, where Ken and his wife, Flo, have lived and worked since 1965, to experience a private screening. He turned on the apparatus and the image flashed onto the screen: geometric patterns — something of a Rorschach inkblot — rotated as if in a whirlpool, and three-dimensional imagery pulsed with strong flicker. What was weird was that the images did not adhere to the surface of the screen. They stood out, almost floating, like holograms. Then, my eyes started catching physical shapes in the depth of the abstract patterns such as faces, hands, the surface of an oil spill, and they appeared and disappeared like ghosts or doppelgängers. “How does Nervous Magic Lantern work?” I asked Ken. The inventor's answer was something unexpected: "I don't know! I dreamed it and found it through experimentations then stuck to it. I'm not that technical." Well, he is an artist who creates a phantasmagoria of mystery; let the neuroscientists explain the mechanism. The self-made apparatus contains a spinning shutter, a light source, and lenses set in a wooden frame. Ken inserts his hand-painted circular slides between the light and lenses and moved them gently with his hands. The lenses enlarged a tiny portion on the slide, while the spinning shutter gave the flicker effect. Compared to Ken's other works, which are often filled with unflinching political criticism, the imagery of Nervous Magic Lantern is patently abstract, and it examines how our brain regulates our perceptions. In Jonas Mekas' Movie Journal, Ken once said, “We’re stepping towards a deeper incline, something challenging our notion of the way things are. Something impossible.” Elsewhere he stated, “Eisenstein said the power of film was to be found between shots. Peter Kubelka seeks it between film frames. I want to get between the eyes, contest the separate halves of the brain. A whole new play of appearances is possible here.” Nervous Magic Lantern offers up this sort of play in stunning hallucinations, strange visions dancing on the screen. Ken's request for my music was to play “sounds of daily life.” He explained that the project “is an escape,” and that he felt “guilty not having any messages or reflecting the real world. By using environmental sounds to surround us,” he continued, “I'd like to be rooted in the real world." Around 2014, I noticed that Ken had a sizable collection of cassette field recordings he had amassed over the last several decades. Street noises in Chinatown, conversations with friends, or any sort of uncategorizable sound around him. I was fascinated and decided to use them as a springboard for composing. One of the unique aspects of Nervous Magic Lantern is that the visual stays abstract while the sound is able to adopt meanings or a narrative sense derived from the quotidian sounds. I wanted to emphasize that point and add almost a sense of documentary. More than that, I simply loved the aural depictions of Ken and Flo’s life. Those also trigger my memories with them. Over the years, during summer time, Ken, Flo, and my wife, Makiko, made a habit of going to their favorite restaurant in Chinatown. Other times, Ken and I had morning coffee at a Puerto Rican restaurant just below their loft. Life and art are inseparable, breaking into one another incessantly. Ken is an artist who always envisioned the impossible. I wanted to see if it's possible to present that vision as something universal, something whole, something running through everyone’s life. A soundtrack for life in the depth of illusion. That is perhaps what this album is. This album was recorded as a soundtrack for Ken Jacobs' Nervous Magic Lantern at Spiral Hall, organized by Sound Live Tokyo, on November 3, 2015. It was probably one of our best performances. Before the performance, Ken explained to me the selected slides he uses and the ordering he employs, so that I would better understand the flow. Some slides are black-and-white and some color. For a given performance, Ken selects 10 slides or so. However, he might play with just one slide for the entire show or change the order — there was plenty of room to improvise. On my side, I also had a structure and the order of tapes, quite independent from Ken's visual. But I made the system easy to extend or shorten, duration-wise, in order to respond to Ken's ordering and mood. Lastly, I wanted to mention Flo's role, as she is deeply involved in Ken's creative process; as he says: “This is a mom-and-pop business.” From the first day of working together, she was always there with us and took care of all practical matters. Ken is a dreamer and thinks and works intuitively. But Flo — an exceptionally beautiful woman in and out — is rooted in the real world. Not just a pragmatist, however, Flo advises Ken on artistic decisions. Ken always asks to hear her thoughts, as I did as well. As film critic and their decades-long friend Amy Taubin once described it, "Florence Jacobs is nothing less than a producer of Ken Jacobs' cinema." What a perfect couple, and it was an extremely joyous journey with them!

Meditations is a set of 8 works based on the experience of meditation practice. Music made for both meditation and reflecting the realities of a life of daily practice. The breath, the quietness, the listening, the distracted dissonant and consonant thoughts that pass through. The texts throughout the pieces are fragments of the Buddhist Heart Sutra, the shortest and created from a mixture of traditions and sources, produced long after Buddha's death and meant to be chanted or sung as a ritual and personal meditation. The experience of meditation, so often covered in mythology and one dimensionally peaceful symbols, is in fact a complex set of traditions in all cultures and has roots in indigenous cultures world wide and involves the limitations of thought as well as the quietness of the mind as a source of understanding and health.

The Buddhist teachings that are in focus in this album are in a sense a sequel to the record Rituals of 2015 in that they are adapted as Meditations that cross and combine traditions with any attempt consciously to synthesize them into a new whole. A conversation between traders, in the form here of musicians , languages, sound sources and the peace and struggle of maintaining a real meditational practice and living in the chaos and violence of society as well as accepting the world as it is, with all of the internal conflicts and release and rise of tension.

The musicians on these pieces also are recorded live in a group setting listening to each other with a shared space and character I create and through this listening the connections that form the final piece are made.

The Heart Sutra which I read in the last piece of the 8 is a translation which has been collaged by many schools and cultures that adapted the teachings to their indigenous religions. Most likely first traded along the Silk Roads , and internet of its time 3000 years would have been written in Pali, a pan-asian language and transcribed from Sanskrit and Hindi sources and later translated into Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese and eventually Greek, Arabic, Latin and global languages in the 20th century.

The bonus track is a live mix (called a Metta Mix) of a performance and collage of all this material and other new pieces, performed in a virtual avatar world called Second Life for a live audience who listens and. attends in their own avatars, as I stream the concert. This music is closer to my personal experiences of meditation, with a collage of ideas passing through me, returning to the breath or vocal tones , distractions, physical pain , internal quiet, increased listening and sensory focus that moves from imagined , real and virtual connections with the technology. All pieces on this set of recordings are a version of this in some ways, with the mix being something both from me and for those that listen.

Meditations is both a document of practice, past and present and an experience of listening, both personal and the connective mix of us and all the things that are not us.

Originally recorded and released in 1977 on Sky Records, the first collaborative album by Brian Eno and Cluster was the first ambient record produced in Germany, and is considered the seminal, defining work of the genre. Brian Eno was certainly instrumental in creating and popularizing the concept of "ambient music" -- but it was not his invention alone. The German musicians Hans-Joachim Roedelius and Dieter Moebius (Cluster) were brothers in spirit. As so often in music, the idea of ambient was in the air -- both Eno and Cluster experimenting with the form in the 1970s, rendering any debate as to who influenced who redundant. What is certain, is that Brian Eno attended a Cluster concert in Hamburg in 1975, strategically positioning himself in the front row. Sure enough, he was invited on stage to jam with the band and, after the show, the participants arranged to meet up again. They did so two years later at the Old Weserhof in Forst, the domicile of the German duo. Eno and Cluster spent three weeks in Conny Plank's studio, resulting in two albums: Cluster & Eno and After The Heat (1978). In the liner notes, Asmus Tietchens (who also plays on the record along with Can's Holger Czukay) writes: "Clearly, all three musicians inspired each other during their three weeks together without any clash of personalities. Nevertheless, some tracks sound more like Cluster, some more like Eno. So it made perfect sense to collect the tracks with a Cluster flavor on Cluster & Eno." The importance of this record can never be overstated, nor can its elegance of diverse forms be matched. From Indian sitar and tamboura, to synth warbles and airy tributes to Western groove, it is a rare glimpse at what happens when masters meet.

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Sakura is without doubt the most loved and lauded entry in Susumu Yokota’s catalogue.

The music unravels like cascades of petals falling from the eponymous cherry blossom trees. Yokota intended to ‘express ki-do-ai-raku (the four emotions; joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness) through music’, and throughout Sakura, the effect fluctuates between profound tranquillity, hesitation, melancholy and joy with ease, addressing the fickle nature of human emotion, while transcending the inclination to label moods entirely.

Sakura became Yokota’s best selling album. It was greeted with universal acclaim, lauded by Philip Glass and Brian Eno and launched Yokota internationally.

‘A bittersweet beauty, heightened by the sadness that all things must one day end.’ - Martyn Pepperell

Mesmerising album of Yokota’s earliest sonic explorations that demonstrates his unique vision and sublime transcendence of boundaries.

‘Image 1983-1998’ is a collection of short miniatures, composed in two different time periods. Tracks 1-5 were recorded with guitar and organ between 1983-4 and tracks 6-12 were composed through 97-98, being inspired by the earlier material.

A musical scrapbook, or sonic design board. The sleeve notes give an insight into Yokota’s belief in a close connection between music, memory and his active imagination: ‘Encountering Acid House made me visualise music – I could clearly see the sounds sparkling… this experience led me to create electronic music.’

First re-issue album from the Skintone Edition Volume 1 Box Set

Magic Thread is Susumu Yokota’s deeply soothing and delicate debut release on the Skintone label. With a spartan palette of sounds and textures, Yokota taps into a fundamentally human need to fuse and connect disparate fibres, magically forming work which glistens and pulsates with life.

Magic Thread originally came out in 1998 as a limited-edition CD release of 500 copies. Initially intended for the Japanese market, it came without any artwork in a standard transparent CD case adorned only by a sticker containing essential album information and a quote:

‘Somewhere in the process of evolution, the spinning and weaving of thread became possible for humankind. How did this come to pass? It can only be that the thread is possessed of magical properties.’ – Yokota, 1998.

The Boy and the Tree was composed after a visit to Yakushima Island, an outstandingly beautiful world heritage site off the southern tip of Japan, scored by a deep, lush and ancient ravine, home of the ancient 7000-year old ‘Jōmon Sugi’. Tree. Also the inspiration for Miyazaki's epic anime Princess Mononoke, a conflict between the rampant greed and destructive force of humanity, and the stoic, mysterious fragility of nature. This fleeting immersion in nature lent the album a profound introspection and mystery, and the its twelve tracks unfold in dream sequence, each drifting seamlessly into the next while still managing to steer the listener in myriad directions, from eerie butoh atmospheres, to ebullient raga, to desolate, cavernous chanson. The Boy And The Tree is definitely one of, if not the most, visually evocative and cinematic Yokota releases.

Laputa, a title taken from the fantastical floating island of Gulliver's Travels is aptly named as 'The album that never landed' for, apart from a limited touchdown in Japan, Laputa was never released. This mystical world is a summation of Yokota's journey so far, a complex and at times challenging work but immeasurably rewarding. Beguiling and bewitching in equal measure. Over fifteen undulating sonic fugue states, he guides listeners round a liminal world, made up of familiar materials but formed in a way defying all laws of perspective and physics. Background murmurings give way to almost uncomfortably foregrounded chattering, and one perceived soundstage segues into another impossible tableau of sonic apparitions, some recognisable in form, but all boldly decontextualised and arranged in expertly cluttered amalgams. Laputa's obscurity was a prime reason Lo Recordings decided on the Skintone retrospective. Falling as it did between The Boy and the Tree on The Leaf Label and our own debut of Symbol. It was something of an audio crime that the album had never been properly explored and discovered. Lo Recordings hope Laputa can now ascend to its rightful place... hovering above us.

Another massive offering from the one and only Mick Harris, continuing on in his Culvert Dubs Sessions experimentations with a new 2xlp. Once again Mick delves deep into the shadow realm of slow beat, psychedelic heavily textured, grinding dub techno. Eight tracks of absolute industrialized, delay swept, full pressure, sound system shaking murk ridden, dark water dubs. Top form work when Mick lets loose in this wild style, just the right balance of beauty, restraint and brutality. Total heavy weight music!

アルバムについて In a continuation of his devotional celebration of the dance, Shed arrives on Dekmantel with Rave Echoes — a supple, mesmerising album of angular techno caught between the heat of peak time and the time-blurred hours after the club. Few artists have nailed the intersection of the intellectual, emotional and physical in techno as evocatively as René Pawlowitz. For more than 20 years and across scores of aliases the Frankfurt/Oder-born, Berlin-based trailblazer has pushed a distinctive strain of machine music in thrall to the functional demands of motion without ever sacrificing subtlety, space, intrigue and expression. While his vast catalogue of work touches on many different moods and energies, on his Dekmantel debut Rave Echoes he shrouds eight forthright workouts in a blanket of misty melancholia to evoke the enchanting afterglow of the party. "It's not nostalgic," Pawlowitz explains. "It's about that feeling that remains for a day, a week or even years after celebrating a rave. I still have that feeling for about 30 years now. This record tries to describe it." The vaporous pads that soar over 'Password (Techno Mix)' certainly come charged with a bittersweet sentiment. Meanwhile the rhythmic locomotion comes on like the rumble of the first train back after leaving the club. The insistent bell loop up top rings out like the hook of the last track that rang out over the soundsystem. It's a sensation familiar to anyone who has spent their last drop of energy at the altar of dance, where exhaustion meets with satisfaction and disorientation as you recalibrate back into the real world. This approach — dreamlike atmospherics and rugged propulsion — takes on many guises across Rave Echoes. It's submerged and restrained on 'Loot 25', speckled with sharply sliced breaks on 'Everybody' and scattered across a sparse, steppy soundscape on 'Rave Predator'. Emotive, swooning strings collide with tough, squashed breakstep drums on 'Double Scoop' and 'Taking You Home' thrusts with urgency even as Pawlowitz softens the spiky transients to make space for pure rave romanticism. There is even space for 'Rave Echoes' itself — the last groove before your eyes finally close, as the beat slows to a weighty trip hop roll and the ambience blooms out into a dense blanket across the frequency range. Bursting with the nuanced production, rugged UK-school soundsystem pressure and Berlin-school techno momentum that makes him such a celebrated producer, on Rave Echoes Shed offers a perfect impression of those wild, indescribable sensory overloads that leave their mark on anyone devoted to the dancefloor.

Caterina Barbieri & Bendik Giske's At Source resounds music as wellspring, that which is essential and unknowable, and yet utterly primary. It finds two acclaimed composer-musicians building a world together in self-contained collaboration between analogue synthesis and an extended approach to the saxophone that conjures its own universe of sound. It is at once intimate and cosmic, drawing on the challenges and possibilities of their artistic exchange, tearing down technique to access all the expansive possibilities of their sonic meeting point. At Source is a document of the world of sound to be conjured when two artists strive for something together, discovering the expansions and limitations of performance by bodies and machines. It is not an exercise in assimilation, but in productive exchange and creative confrontation. It does not draw on outside energies or influences, but grapples with what there is to find in their respective playing. "It also reflects how natural the collaboration was," says Barbieri, "a meeting at the source which was spontaneous, graceful and natural". Barbieri and Giske first met and were enthralled by one another's performances at Kunsthaus Glarus in 2019, a meeting that spurred conversations on the power of transitions as a compositional force. Giske later contributed a rework of Fantas for Fantas Variations (Editions Mego, 2021), an ambitious undertaking to rescore Barbieri’s work for his saxophone and voice, a challenge Giske had started undertaking two years prior as an ongoing practice of transcription. “The request came as a proof of aligned ideas”, says Giske. Their new collaborative project then started during an artistic residency in Milan’s ICA in 2021, by invitation of swiss artist and curator Jan Vorisek, as the world was emerging from lockdown. This meeting, and the preceding closure of sites for cultural exchange, made their work together 'feel like springtime' says Barbieri. Giske, who was on the brink of releasing his sophomore album, Cracks, then joined Barbieri's light-years tour, which functioned as an inaugural incarnation of her newborn label and platform through a series of multi-artist curated shows with appearances of Lyra Pramuk, Nkisi, MFO, among other artists. Through the tour, they continued to develop material live, and this release, laid down in the studio, is true to that ever-evolving process of creation, where live feedback stays essential to the vitality of this collaborative effort. The tracks are each named with two evocative words that contain the two poles of their sound. Theirs is both abstract and cosmic, in the synth as machine undermined by Barbieri's naturalistic playing, and in Giske's continuous exploration of the symbiosis between his instrument, voice, and body. These binaries, of body and machine, posed various challenges, notably in how the stepped patterns Barbieri uses were near-impossible to translate for Giske's body to perform, and other times where mathematical resolutions were needed to sync their playing. Explains Giske: "It forced me to go to the core of what I am and what I have to offer”. Barbieri says that it "explores the liminality between the machine and the human, and the vulnerability in this process". On 'Intuition, Nimbus', the first track to be written, Giske's playing flutters and rises on Barbieri's synth, like a flock of birds lifted skywards on thermal columns, with clouds of pulsing tones fanning avian wings. 'Alignment, Orbit' settles into a steady torque, Giske's gentle percussions syncing with shifting loops, steadily building energy and conjuring solidity from breath and resistance. The extended 'Impatience, Magma' stretches glowing and languorous, honing in on and picking up a synth melody with whetted edge that cuts through the firmament, populating a broad cosmos of extended tones and replicating patterns in a piece that calls to mind Laurie Spiegel's extended works, and steps into transcendent duet with Giske's saxophone at its most keening and spiritual in tone and movement. 'Persistence, Buds' unfurls gracefully in sensuous sympatico, as saxophone caresses Barbieri's slowly twirling progressions, a tactile and meditative closer. At Source is testament to two divergent practices finding a whole cosmos in which to convene; music is crystalised and made utterly enveloping through the focused and critical work of two musicians working at their peak. The versions here are, temptingly, "just one of many versions" of this abundant source material Giske explains. Like the best collaborations, At Source is more than the sum of its parts – bringing more to the feast than the simple combination of two musicians, promising versions upon versions of the exquisite material captured here.

He also participated in the legendary psychedelic bands “Hallelujahs” and “Idiot O'Clock” with Shinji Shibayama and others, which were praised to the highest degree by the late Hideo Iketsuzumi, owner of Modern Music, who presided over “P.S.F. Records,” one of the most prestigious psychedelic underground bands in Japan. Naoiki Toushi is one of the residents of Kyoto's “Drugstore,” a rock cafe renowned as a sacred place for underground music, and is also a founding member of the famous band Hijokaidan. Paradise” is the first solo album of Toushi's career, released on the Shibayama-led ‘Org Records’ label, and the first time it has been reissued in analog format.

He was a member of the legendary psychedelic band “Hallelujahs” and “Idiot O'Clock” with Shinji Shibayama and others, which was praised to the highest degree by the late Hideo Iketsuzumi, owner of Modern Music, who presided over the prestigious “P.S.F. Records” that represented the psychedelic underground in Japan. Naoiki Toushi is one of the residents of Kyoto's famous underground music mecca, the rock cafe “Dragstore,” and is also a founding member of the famous Hijokaidan. Released on Shibayama's Org Records label, “III” is one of the most popular cult albums of his career, and has been eagerly awaited by fans and collectors alike for an official reissue, including a bootleg LP reissue from overseas.

Chaz Prymek and Matthew Sage are old friends; after a spate of duo releases in the late 2010s and early 2020s, this is their first proper full length duo release in six years. Those six years have been busy for both artists; they are the primary songwriters in their project Fuubutsushi with Patrick Shiroishi and Chris Jusell, Prymek is busy with his Lake Mary project, along with being a curator and organizer in Salt Lake, Sage has had a string of albums on RVNG, as well as juggling being a professor, a parent, a gardener, and an artist in Northern Colorado. They both spent part of that time wandering the Midwest, but both share deep roots in the Mountain West, in Colorado and Utah. Shelter sees the duo settling back into the wide landscapes of where they come from, and also where they are going. These were the first recordings made in the pole barn studio Sage set up in rural Colorado in 2022. Slowly and gently layered with sparse overdubs – yearning slide guitar, accordion, clarinet, recorder, delicate synthesizers – and sateen production treatments, the core of the album is a series of first take live improvisations with Prymek on electric guitar and Sage on piano. The album feels like sitting on a porch with an old friend and a warm cup of coffee while you catch up and talk about the good and the bad with a smile. Gentle and hymn-like, deeply melodious and patient. Channeling a humble spirit looking out on a majestic scene, things feel airy and pastoral, spacious and patient but a little tousled, windblown, chapped. Prymek and Sage have a long and wide catalog together, but something about Shelter feels like a new chapter and a benchmark for both of their practices containing the influence of years of sonic and artistic explorations, immense life changes, cross country moves, and all the warmth a sunbeam can bring along the way.

Straight out of the local mud of the city of Antwerp comes this next Souvenirs from Imaginary Cities slab of free-flowing bits of electronic wonder : Schönen Abend by Simon B. Just in time to ease you out of this endless winter and right into springtime. Like the previous hit by Purple Uncle, this flower takes some time to bloom and fill up your head and body with it's ear wormy fragrance. It's hazy and cinematic, makes you think of Italian electronic pioneers and their library magic, Patrick Cowley's School Daze and Haruomi Hosono in some kind of gothic manner. It's quite stripped and lush at the same time, rhythms like minimal mechanics make you fly above the river and land just outside reality. It's a nice place where soft jazz tingles right around the dark corner, and that particular mix of exotica and melancholia — the trademark of this port city's best electronic auteurs is definitely in the air. The river still shines, but she’s deeply poisoned. The old town has lost every bit of fresh air but keeps on digging for old gold. This bitter pill is served with delicacy and lightness, the wound is dressed up seductively — feet in the mud, head in the air. Stuff is sensuous, with quiet places reminding of the good side of those times when the big wheel stopped turning ever so madly. A strange quietness whistles through the leaves. Some things take time to unfold. In or out of C. Four years in the making, this is the solo debut LP of Simon B, a longtime contributor to Antwerp's improvised music scene (Groovecats Deluxe, Wij Blij Trio ). Primarily a double bass player, he also has a deep-felt passion for offbeat electronica and the rainbowy side of American minimalism, which takes front here. You can hear the tenor and soprano saxophone of Adia Van Heerentals on 4 tracks, deepening out Simon's naturally flowing compositions and playing around with his melodies. You may know her from Bodem and her strong presence in the Belgian jazz scene lately. The smoky voice on the last track belongs to Nina-Joy Thielemans, she is part of Particals, a trio working with live electronics and field recordings, releasing an lp on Ultra Eczema later this year. Simon's electroacoustic experiments — using a clarinet and some outboard effects — were important tools in finding the very specific colour of this record. There's this airy character, like wind blowing through old layers of bricks and over the river, anchored with a deep sense of bass, gathering ages of dust and memories in these eight elegantly wobbling tracks, forming a perfect whole that’s really coming together in one deep listening from A to Z. The centrepiece is perhaps "Came to Me", instrumental and reprise with vocals, but no fillers on this one. Every part of the mystery is needed to come to its end and back again. It's a record that works in the morning, to open up a day and in the quiet corners of the night, with it's sleazy quirkiness, smiling towards you from the right corner of the eye. A perfect compagnon for your long-form wandering habits, light reflections on a wet surface obsessions, coffee slurping in the morning and the forgotten art of beachcombing. Quite essential these days, witnessing a world going apeshit.

Born out of a summer (and time) sadly lost forever, this new release on Souvenirs From Imaginary Cities will break your skull open most tenderly, so its fine particles of audio dust can mingle with the last rays of sunshine and the bitter storms of this autumn. Track after track, this LP draws you in with a natural flow and a deep-felt pulse, reminiscent of classic slices of raw and sample-based ambient like Susumu Yakota's 'Sakura' and 'Everyone Alive Wants Answers' by Colleen. These tunes are heartfelt, melancholic, real, emotional. It's a very personal and unique blend of almost nineties chill out zoning with a dubby undertow, rich textured loops, mixing a whole range of crazy acoustic and electronic flavours — stuff that shouldn't work together but are dancing all the way to heaven anyways — with slow-burning, dusty slabs of melody and those deep choral pads (some Rachmaninov vesper magic in the air), everything rough around the edges and low slung but so damn precise. A subtle mélange between abstract and more concrete sonic territories, but delivered in an upfront, improvised manner with great intuition and a rough but poetic touch. The name of this piece of swampy, chopped up but most nicely presented ambient work is ‘La Ho’, by Purpurniy Dyadya aka Purple Uncle aka Sergey Dmitriev, originally residing in St. Petersburg but living now in Armenia. Sergey has been busy on labels like Echotourist, Hair Del, Nazlo and most recently with fellow traveller Nikita Chepurnoi as Amkarahoi on Patience/Impatience. Using old tapes from his childhood times, filled with all kinds of sonic memories and Russian underground hip-hop as sample ground, he loaded up his MPC with magic dust and jammed out the basis of this LP during a summer fest near St. Petersburg in 2021. It's the kind of record that needs some time to really let loose its inherent power. Give it some air, let it hop along a bit and the sounds will bloom wide open. Sounds to put in an envelope and send without a return address/further delay to the last one that transformed your heart into a smoky pile of rubble — or to your sweet self, of course. Part of the proceeds from this release will go to the Ukrainian aid organisation "Voices of Children”.

Music From Memory returns with their penultimate release of 2016, this time bringing together a compilation of works by the Italian composer and musician Roberto Musci. While studying guitar and saxophone in his hometown of Milan, Musci developed a deep fascination for non-western music and set out to travel across India, Asia and Africa, which he would do extensively between 1974-1985. During his many journeys Roberto would become deeply embedded in each unique world of rhythms, scales and approaches to making and performing music. Throughout this period of travel he would make many field recordings as well as collect and study many traditional and indigenous instruments that he would then later combine with synthesizers and electronics on his return to Italy.

Combining personal documents of music and sounds deeply connected to the history and cultures of those lands, with his own explorations and experiments with cutting edge sound technology Roberto Musci would develop through his music a very unique and at times wholly mystical space, where ancient and modern would evolve into a new musical language.

As well as making his own music, during the 1980’s and 1990’s Roberto would also regularly broadcast radio shows of experimental and indigenous music on Italian radio stations such as Rai and Radio Popolare. Deeply connected to the arts he would also compose and perform numerous pieces of music for theatre, dance and performance art pieces as well as soundtracks for film and television.

‘Tower of Silence’ brings together a double LP of material from Roberto Musci’s solo recordings commencing with the Loa of Music sessions from 1984 up until later very recent works. The compilation also includes a number of collaborative pieces, many performed and written in collaboration with Giovanni Venosa, such as material taken from their ‘Water Messages On Desert Sand’, which as an album was Grammy-nominated in in the UK in 1987. A unique and at times intensely mesmerising musical world ‘Tower of Silence’ offers an introduction to the work of a unique and visionary artist.

in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music Recorded 2019-2024 'the gold metal must be wrung a bore is a well lit mine where everything belongs to me' Dagmar Zuniga makes music that feels both intimate and expansive: songs drift like disrupted signals, carried by harmony, tape hiss, and a strong sense of touch. Her debut solo album in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music — written and recorded in New York, Norway, and Athens, Georgia over a period of five years on her longtime companion, the Tascam 424 — was uploaded to Bandcamp and YouTube in January 2025 through Dagmar’s friends People's Coalition of Tandy. The project quickly garnering over two hundred thousand views and the attention of artists such as Mount Eerie, who invited her to tour with them that summer. This year, what was once a jewel of tapped-in algorithms and message boards will meet the world at large, with in filth arriving digitally on March 4, and physically on April 10, via AD 93.

Originally released on CD in 2009, Engaged Touches has been expanded from the original recordings for a 3LP edition, spanning 5 sides of vinyl, and a 3CD edition of the same expanded version, as well as the original single disc version. All have been remastered by Stephan Mathieu for this special limited edition. Please support artists by purchasing the digital album, not streaming in excess. Thank you.

Known for the meditative ambient jazz masterpiece "Natten"! This work is also outstanding! The prestigious label "Luaka Bop" presided over by David Byrne of Talking Heads has announced the latest work "Kosmos" by Bremer McCoy, a noteworthy jazz unit from Denmark consisting of keyboardist Jonathan Bremer and acoustic bassist Morten McCoy.

Recorded between the iconic Abbey Road and Polish Radio studios, Hania Rani’s original music for Joachim Trier’s Cannes and Golden Globe winning, Oscar and Bafta nominated ‘Sentimental Value’ is a deeply intuitive collaboration, composed before a single frame was edited. Intriguingly Hania worked on the score for Sentimental Value without an edit in hand; instead, she was given a carefully written script and the freedom of her own substantial imagination. The story told in the film oscillates around three characters and the motionless presence of the house, yet the relationships between all these personalities are not fixed, but in progress. Those subtle qualities were at the center of her attention and became the core topic of numerous discussions with Joachim about the music, the film, and the philosophy behind Sentimental Value. In September 2024, Hania went to Oslo and spent a couple of days in the main film location (the family home in Oslo) with her sound engineer, Agata Dankowska. The film crew was away in France to shoot another scene for the project, so they were allowed to freely explore the space - both visually and sonically. They made field recordings in the building, capturing the sounds of objects and furniture found in the apartment, and they also managed to record a couple of piano pieces. The house plays a significant role in the story, silently witnessing the tangled trajectories of its residents.

Hania Rani announces her new album, Ghosts, bringing her songwriting and beautiful vocals to the fore and featuring special guests Patrick Watson, Ólafur Arnalds and Duncan Bellamy (Portico Quartet). Ghosts is the sound of an ever-evolving artist and, just as the album’s title suggests she passes repeatedly and gracefully between musical worlds: as composer, singer, songwriter, and producer. This album builds on Rani’s earlier successes Esja and Home with an expanded yet still minimal setup of piano, keyboards, synths (most importantly her Prophet) and features more of her mysterious, bewitching voice. Its spirit is warm, beckoning one into an ambitious double album that unfolds at an exquisite pace, informed by her revelatory, exploratory live performances. Ghosts is also an album of collaborations as Rani is joined by Patrick Watson, who breathes unearthly life into the ethereal ‘Dancing with Ghosts’. ‘Whispering House’is written and recorded with her friend, Ólafur Arnalds and casts a peaceful, ineluctable spell; and Portico Quartet’s Duncan Bellamy contributes vital loops to ‘Don’t Break My Heart’ and ‘Thin Line’. Rani’s lyrics are partially inspired by a two-month residency in a small studio in Switzerland’s mountains, where Rani was working on the soundtrack On Giacometti for a documentary about the renowned Swiss artist. “Where I stayed was once an old sanatorium in an area which used to be very popular, but now there are huge abandoned hotels where the locals say ghosts live. I mean, it's kind of a local belief system – these ghosts even have names! – but once you're deep into nature or some abandoned place, your imagination starts working on a different level.” “The edge of life and death,” Rani summarises, “and what actually happens in between: this was what really interested me. Even singing the word ‘death’ was quite a shock. It’s such a weird word to say out loud, and people are afraid of it, which I found extremely interesting. Most of the songs probably still talk about love and things like that, but Ghosts is more me thinking about having to face some kind of end.”