MUSIC

'Nekkuja' is a place for Herlop's warmest, sweetest sentiments to rise to the surface and crack through the topsoil. She describes the record as a way for her to seek and affirm inner light, and it's undoubtedly her brightest, poppiest statement to date. The forward-thinking, experimental touches that nourished 'Pripyat' are still present, but blessed with a level of positivity that's rare to find in a scene so entranced by darkness and melancholy.

Official remastered edition of COIL's 1998 drone/ambient masterpiece. “4 Tones to facilitate travel through time.” So begins the listeners’ journey into what has become one of the most treasured and revered pieces of COIL history ever released. Each of the four pieces on Time Machines is named after the chemical compound of the hallucinogenic drug that they were composed for, and the album was meticulously crafted to enable what John Balance referred to as "temporal slips" in time and space, allowing both the artist and audience to figuratively "dissolve time". Inspired by long form ceremonial music of Tibet and other religions, where the intent is to lose oneself in the music – to meditate or achieve a trance state – Time Machines became Drew McDowall, John Balance, and Peter Christopherson’s “electronic punk-primitive” answer to this tribal concept. Starting as a rough demo tape recorded solely by Coil member Drew McDowall, Time Machines started to take full form when McDowall enthusiastically delivered these demo recordings to Balance and Christopherson as sketches for a new Coil project with the primary goal of shifting Coil’s sound further into a more conceptually abstract direction. Largely recorded in 1997 using single takes with minimal post production, these four drones contain every intended fluctuation and tone, along with every glitch of the original – “Artifacts generated by your listening environment are an intrinsic part of the experience.”

Waterfall Horizon, 7038634357’s second album with Blank Forms Editions, was written for live performance and workshopped over successive shows during a 2022 tour. Here, the song forms have begun to crystallize. Hallmarks of the artist’s prior, studio-crafted recordings—slow-burning ambience and obfuscating digital distortion—are pared back, revealing borderline pop inflections. Waterfall Horizon’s more traditional lyrical scaffolds allow verses, chorus, and interstices to flourish, all within a minimized, icy range.

Neo Gibson, born in Virginia and based in New York City, records, performs, and produces as 7038634357. This numerical alias, under which Gibson has been releasing work since 2016, offers a window into the careful ambivalences of the musical project. It conjures the impersonal—the opacity and randomness of data, a number that is hard to remember or even say out loud—while also suggesting a direct line of communication with the artist, down to an area code indexing their biography. 7038634357 uses a restricted palette to achieve music that is formally precise and emotionally direct. Their digital-native approach to production, in which frank melodies cross paths with heavy distortion, contains traces of both trance’s maximalist arcs and a songwriterly intimacy. Expressive details may appear submerged or abraded, subjected to a canny sense of dynamics and textural discretion.

With a particular interest in site-specific performances in non-musical spaces, 7038634357 has performed in a variety of contexts, including the mezzanine of the West 4th Street subway station in New York City and INA GRM/Radio France’s Présences électronique festival. The first 7038634357 vinyl record, Neo Seven, was released on Blank Forms Editions in 2023; previous releases include self-released cassettes and CD-Rs, as well as a pair of EPs on Genome 6.66 Mbp (2018, 2019).

Originally released in 1988. This third album, recorded at Compass Point Studios in southern France and the Bahamas, exudes a relaxed mood. The enchanting “Sade sound” remains as timeless as ever. The album features 10 tracks, including hits such as “Love Is Stronger Than Pride,” “Paradise,” and “Nothing Can Come Between Us.”

The analog edition being released this time is an 180g heavyweight vinyl. After conducting a high-resolution digital transfer from the original analog studio tapes to a stereo master mix at Abbey Road Studios, the mastering process was carried out at half speed for cutting onto the lacquer disc. Through this meticulous half-speed mastering process, a sound source that is both faithful to Sade's intended sound and extremely clean and detailed has been created. By avoiding any unnecessary digital limiting during the mastering process, the album achieves greater clarity and purity of reproduction, preserving the original mix's dynamic range intact. Additionally, the album cover faithfully reproduces the original's paper and printing techniques, accurately capturing every detail.

A cozy collection of botanical background sounds from Lullatone – an arrangement of atmospheric ambience that blossoms into a bouquet of meditative melodies.

What is the obsession with electronic musicians and houseplants? Is it because they are a captive crowd to watch composers create? Because photosynthesis kind of sounds like synthesizer? Because roots and vines like cables on a modular synth rig? Or is it just because ever since Erik Satie coined the term “Furniture Music” every person with a penchant for soundtracking can’t help but look for things in their immediate surroundings to turn into a muse?

From seedlings to sprouts, these melodies mature more like the life cycle of flowers than typical long-lasting houseplants. Living in Japan, Lullatone quickly learned that half of what makes a flower beautiful is knowing it won’t be around for long. Every spring, phrases about fleeting beauty flood conversations as cherry blossoms saturate the sky. Even the flitting run time of some of the songs evokes the haiku-ish poetry of plucked petals falling away too soon.

Imagined also as a tribute to an avant-garde(ning) local flower shop in Nagoya, Japan called Tumbleweed, which hosts a special event called “Flower Listening” multiple times a year, this album plays a bit like a mixtape but with tracks made all by one person. Shawn, the songwriter / producer behind Lullatone often played at the event and found himself making more and more new songs to especially fit the space. But as time went by, he listened to them other places and noticed the impressionistic tone of the tracks translated to lots of other areas as well.

Whether you want to call it botanica / petalcore / pollinated pastoral / j-ambient / folktronica / floraltronica / compositional collage / environmental / kankyō ongaku / “ambient for angiosperms” or just plain instrumental, we hope these soft & serene synth sounds soundtrack anywhere you (and maybe some flowery friends) find yourself growing.

XTCLVR’s debut album for Sferic conjures a vivid, disoriented blur of ambient trap and dub techno, shaped under the strain of Ukraine’s wartime curfews and shelling. Written during long nights of uncertainty, these ten tracks navigate a fractured sonic landscape—lush yet anxious, synthetic but emotionally charged.

Unintelligible vocals drift through fogged beats and smeared textures, evoking both the disarray of conflict and the dream logic of post-party comedowns. Tracks like ‘Perspective’ diffuse vocoder lines into gauzy clouds, while ‘Allergen’ and ‘Storm Shadow’ crackle with nervous energy, recalling the destabilised rhythms of Nazar’s Hyperdub output. Guest contributions deepen the haze: BSW948 threads bars through the warped pulse of ‘Night Shift Cut’, OB3TH shimmers through ‘The Wise Mystical Tree’, and Indy appears on the ambient drill-laced ‘Acid Flavour’. Final track ‘Dead Smoke’ sinks into submerged dread, a murky metaphor for psychic fallout.

Fans of Topdown Dialectic, False Aralia, and Sa Pa will find themselves pulled into this blurred and flickering world—part escapism, part document of a brutal reality.

Under the right conditions, half-remembered dreams can meld seamlessly into hazy present moments. Time spent alone can be an emotional blank canvas, and an opportunity to deconstruct sense and feeling; a patchwork of snippets both rooted in memory and abstracted from reality. The title of ‘quilted lament’ perfectly captures the way Gretchen Korsmo and claire rousay’s overlapping missions come together to do just this. Worn polaroid melodies and snatched everyday noises seem overheard through windows onto the street. They feel emotionally twinned, claire and Gretchen, it’s not always possible to tell where one ends and the other begins. Their musical thoughts and DNA are sewn together into a mini symphony of warmly embracing movements.

Built remotely between pre-existing friends in the underground music scene, the duo layered ideas onto audio files, and sent them back (and forth). And these luscious instrumentals truly do feel assembled by intuition, casually crafted with little need for guidance. “claire and I are both emo,” explains Korsmo. “We are both former texas-dwellers [too] and relate over both the woes and beauties of being in the American DIY experimental music scene.” Buoyant piano keys and hushed layer vocals tracks sit alongside a humming field-recorded scrapbook; a neighbour caught in a moment of private inspiration while street noise elevates; a private hymnal in the bathroom while the washing machine ends its cycle. Both artists take field sounds from a wealth of Zoom and Tascam recordings made in the last half-decade in Santa Fe, San Antonio, Los Angeles, Kamakura, Japan and elsewhere – from a baseball game announcer in Santa Fe, to the sound of a friend eating a juicy peach. At times, the bedroom walls seem to grow thin amid atmospheric creaks and disembodied whispers. Despite its very emo core, this is a recording engulfed in an intense sense of bliss, more at peace than we’ve heard either artist before.

Cortex of Light, a notable Italian trio that includes the leftfield techno genius Piezo and the experimental ambient genius xàr num, has released their debut album from 3XL, the label headed by special guest DJ uon! A futuristic therapy sound where environmental sounds and electronic sounds intertwine. Drone sounds, deconstructed rhythms, and grids of drowsy reverberation are sewn together, and the sound seems to trace the membrane of the city. It is the afterimage of a club, the architecture of a sleepless night, and an optical abstract sound image. While resonating with mysterious labels such as bblissss, West Mineral, and Motion Ward, the unconscious underflow that is characteristic of 3XL runs throughout the entire album, making this a prayer for modern sounds.

Wave Field, released in 1995, was a departure from the first album into new composition methods involving the dirty textures of rock guitar, sounding in the open ears of many listeners (like Jim O'Rourke, who issued the disc in the US on dexter's cigar) as a synthesis of disparate elements — a nexus where Alvin Lucier, Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine and Eno blend together. Here, the clangorous potential of the guitar was emphasized, giving a metallic edge to the two extended pieces and "radio edit" coda. The jacket paid subtle tribute to My Bloody Valentine, which, along with the radio edit, suggested a harmony between musical directions as wildly disparate as minimalist experimental and rock. Today, such a paradoxical intent is more widely considered as a part of the artist's purview.

In 1987, RAFAEL TORAL began making his own compositions and solo recordings. 30 years later, these recordings sound remarkably prescient and perfectly timeless—almost fresher today than when they were first released. Rafael has spent the time since then developing his conceptions, with continued explorations in the many records that have followed. On the 30th anniversary of his start, Drag City is reissuing Sound Mind Sound Body and Wave Field, his first two long out-of-print albums, on vinyl for the first time. Sound Mind Sound Body was partly inspired by exploring some of the working principles of Brian Eno and Robert Fripp, extrapolated by Rafael via a unique signal path leading out of his guitar. He paid notice to the massive impact of discreet gestures, creating slow-moving tones and spacious orchestral resonances, drifting and droning with glacial majesty, hardly recognizable as guitar much of the time. The first of these pieces were recorded in 1987, and in 1994, they were released on Portugal’s AnAnAnA, with material evolved in the years between, producing a remarkable equilibrium over an hour’s listening. Further evidence of the necessity for gradual development exists in subsequent reissues: for the 1998 Moikai reissue, “AE 1” was recorded, and for this edition, “AER 7 E” was rerecorded and the material for “AE 2” was recorded for the first time ever—all from original processes as noted, and none of which will cause the listener to notice a change in the otherworldly atmosphere.

If Surround can be listened to as music that’s as close to air itself, allowing us to enter each listener’s sound scenery, or as something that exists within a new perspective, expanding the middle ground between sound and music, and transforming it into a comfortable space, it would be much appreciated. — Hiroshi Yoshimura Originally released as an album in January 1986, Surround was recorded by Yoshimura as a commission from home builder Misawa Homes, intended to function as an “amenity” designed to enhance the company’s newly built living spaces. In his original notes for the album, Yoshimura recommends that Surround be placed in the same family of sounds “as the vibration of footsteps, the hum of an air conditioner, or the clanging of a spoon inside a coffee cup.” And, as he suggests, “with the addition of city noise from outside the window,” you may hear Surround in a completely new way. A pioneer in the field of environmental music, Yoshimura’s previous works included Music For Nine Post Cards (1982), originally produced to be played back inside a museum space, and designing sound environments for public spaces and subway systems. Surround was recorded almost concurrently with the acclaimed and popular GREEN (1986); the two albums are described by Hiroyoshi Shiokawa in his liner notes as being Yoshimura’s yin and yang. 12月上旬入荷。遂に満を持して登場。あの『Green』を凌ぐ人気を誇る、長年失われていた吉村弘最高峰のアンビエント・クラシックこと1986年作品『Surround』が〈Light in the Attic〉配給の〈Temporal Drift〉レーベルより待望の公式アナログ再発！日本の環境音楽のパイオニアであり、都市/公共空間のサウンドデザインからサウンドアート、パフォーマンスに至るまで、傑出した仕事を世に残した偉才、吉村弘。その最難関の音盤として君臨してきた幻の一枚が、今回史上初の公式アナログ・リイシュー。ミサワホームから依頼されて録音された作品で、これらは同社の新築居住空間をより充実させるために設計された「アメニティ」として機能することを目的としていた環境音楽作品。吉村自身による当時のライナーノーツに加え、オリジナル・プロデューサーであった塩川博義氏による新規ライナーノーツも同封（日／英）。 MASTERPIECE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Portland's finest practitioners of Great Black Music offering to the planet! All Is Sound could not be a more apt title for this. Through saxophone, cello, piano, and flutes The Cosmic Tones Research Trio created a truly beautiful record. All Is Sound breaks new ground. At its heart, it's healing/meditation music, but the Gospel and Blues roots are in there too...as well as hints of forward-looking Spiritual jazz. As sincere a record as you could ever hope for. Music is indeed the healing force of the universe.

The 20th Anniversary Edition of "The Creep" by Slomo, this ambient doom masterwork, is now available on vinyl for the first time via Ideologic Organ. This is a storied album of verbal history, and emerged from a figurative long barrow deep within a virtual space of great depth and contemplation, an inverted framing of acoustic space with heavy floors ranging from the wake of COIL to the heaviest Japanese fire of psychedelia to the monuments of drone coagulating in the early 'aughts. A first tiny CDR edition (100 copies) of "The Creep" in 2005 garnered the focus of heavyweights like SUNN O))), Julian Cope, GNOD, the esoteric legendary record store Aquarius, and the Wire. Ideologic Organ is honoured to have been tasked with bringing this to a limited LP for the very first time, and has collaborated with mastering genius Rashad Becker to create a 61-minute single LP in perfect cut. The album will also be distributed widely on all digital channels.

–Stephen O'Malley, Stockholm May 2025

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Doom Metal is often appraised in terms of its sludginess. You might suspect Julian Cope associates Holy McGrail (guitar) and Howard Marsden (synth) of having taken these criteria to heart when they recorded their debut album as Slomo. Initially released on Cope’s Fuck Off & Di label and later reissued by Important, The Creep strains at the very boundaries of Doom. An eerie and evanescent hour-long exercise in bottom-heavy drone, it shares as much with Eno’s On Land as anything by Sunn O))) or Earth, including a comparable attitude towards the wild spots of the British landscape.

Sinking deep into their environment, McGrail and Marsden initiate contact with the pagan spirits lying dormant in the soil, such as the indolent entity of the album’s title and the “Old Rhyme” printed on the sleeve (“In Old England they called me Slaewth the slothful…”), while mimicking the slow, imperceptible processes of growth and decay. The duo’s low-frequency ooze certainly succeeds in evoking the subterranean, but its unhurried rumble also conjures the hidden spaces that flourish against the odds all over the British Isles, from untouched railway verges and motorway laybys to overgrown footpaths where used contraceptives, pornography, Coke cans and crisp packets collect like offerings to the Great God Pan. In more than one sense, The Creep is a fitting tribute to what lies beneath.

-Joseph Stannard, 2012

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The Creep, contextualised.

Just one week after the passing of COIL's Jhonn Balance in late 2004, the 61-minutes of "The Creep" manifested in a Sheffield suburb. Not yet a band and only captured due to happenstance, this first music of Slomo flowed forth without any consideration of it even being "a piece", let alone a release, though it didn't take long for the participants (Chris "Holy" McGrail and Howard Marsden) to realise they'd captured something of distinct colour on account of how often they were listening to it.

Initially dubbed "The Ballad of Jhonn & Sleazy", the pair soon instead ascribed the music to Boleigh Fogou; a prehistoric underground chamber on the Land's End peninsula that both had recently visited and been affected by. "The Creep" took its name from the peculiar side chamber assumed to be of ritual function, having no apparent practical use. This ponderous music chimed perfectly with the fogou; an apparently stolid place that teems with life once you become attuned to its frequency.

Fitting in perfectly alongside other massive single-track albums such as Sleep's "Dopesmoker", COIL's 'Queens of the Circulating Library', Cope's "Odin", and Boris' "Flood", "The Creep" secured a limited release on Cope's Fuck Off & Di CD-R label in 2005 that quickly sold out via supportive outlets such as Southern Lord, Aquarius Records and Stephen O'Malley's Ideologic Organ - then operating merely as a blog and micro-store.

After a wider CD release in 2006, Slomo followed up "The Creep" with "The Bog" in 2008 – a much denser plunder into the fundament. 2012 brought with it the pair's first live outings and "The Grain", another nod to Land's End with an airier, more agricultural sound and the first signs of creeping automation. 2017's "Transits" captured three spontaneous compositions for time and space and remains a firm favourite among the band's listeners; one of the tracks going on to be remixed by twelve of the band's favourite artists on 2018's 2xCD compilation "Super-Individual: Collective Ritual". The band returned in 2024 with "Zen and Zennor" and live shows with GNOD and a sold-out show at Stone Club, London.

In other's words :

“If the doom metal of Khanate is the ideal soundtrack to the 21st Century Odinists’ hanging upon the tree of Yggdrasil, then the vegetal music of Slomo is the unfolding, nurturing, ever-becoming ur-ooze that titanically irrigates the roots of that sacred tree. Slomo restores our timeless beginnings and fulfils the Ginnungagap… motherfuckers.”

JULIAN COPE

“…seeps into your subconscious, where it flutters like a trapped and burning moth at the back of your brain. Ghostly sounding and ominously rumbling with atmospheric threat, The Creep is an undeniably effective chunk of subterranean echo, whose quaking aftershock could cause sleepless nights.”

THE WIRE

“Uneasy, brooding, and honestly unsettling, this disc slowly works its way out of the speakers and into the psyche. Ingrained, it’s impossible to put it down, lock it away, carry it to the street with the beer and Scotch bottles to be recycled. Inactivated, it defiantly surfaces in the cat’s purr, the Volk’s engine knocks, a fritzing hard drive.”

DUSTED MAGAZINE

“Labège, released on Good Morning Tapes, emerged from a residency in the town of the same name in Occitanie, where NEXCYIA, mu tate, and Exzald S lived and worked under one roof. Immersed in the slow rhythms of southern French life, the trio embraced live improvisation, intuitive sampling, and a freeform process shaped by their domestic surroundings. The result is a collection of gentle, drifting compositions—sonic postcards capturing a fleeting moment in time.

The trio brings a distinct yet complementary voice. Working with abstraction, sound mangling tools, field recordings, and fragmented rhythms to sculpt tactile, evolving environments. All leaning into softness and restraint, weaving filtered harmonics and spacious reverb into floating atmospheres anchored by deep sub-bass and hushed vocals.

Their methods intertwine seamlessly, allowing improvisation and chance to guide the music’s form. The result is both expansive and intimate—suspended somewhere between memory and the present.”

Electronic Music from the Eighties and Nineties presents the soothing, hallucinatory side of Stone’s slow-evolving, time-bending composition. While we can’t always identify the source, we can hear that his sounds come from somewhere, and that there is a “correct” or “complete” version of them in theory; and so we can hear when they are being changed. What drives Stone’s music is the flow that he draws out of those differences: the way an Indonesian gamelan morphs into a chorus built from one female vocalist over the course of “Mae Yao”’s twenty-three minutes, the surprise emergence of a Mozart chorus out of the synths and skip-glitches of “Sonali,” or the slow, ambient evolution of “Banteay Srey”. “Woo Lae Oak,” issued in a single side edit for the first time, is an exception. Its samples – a tremolo string and a bottle being blown across the top like a flute - are simple in the extreme. Yet the Stone hallmark is clearly present, he locates the inherent emotional properties of the sounds – the tingling anticipation of the string and the calm nobility of the wind – and takes them into unexpected expressive territory.

Hampus Lindwall is a musical artist active in many fields ranging from contemporary music to experimental and electronic sound / music. He has released many albums, as a soloist and in collaboration and is the titular organist in Saint-Esprit, Paris, since 2005.

Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, Emile Mosseri, and Ghostly will be making a donation from today’s Bandcamp Friday sales of their collaborative album, I Could Be Your Dog/I Could Be Your Moon to support reproductive rights via Noise For Now. "His music filled me with the urge to connect with the world," Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith says of Emile Mosseri. She first heard his work while watching the 2019 film The Last Black Man In San Francisco; just minutes in, she paused it to look up who did the score and wrote to him immediately. "I love Emile's ability to create melodies that feel magically scenic and familiar like they are reminding you of the innocence of loving life.” Those talents saw recognition in 2020 with an Oscar nomination for Mosseri’s original score to the film Minari. He was already a fan of Smith’s and became increasingly intrigued by her impressionistic process as they started to talk. "The music feels so spiritual and alive and made from the earth," Mosseri says. "I think of her as the great conductor, summoning musical poetry from her orchestra of machines." I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon, their two-part collaborative album, introduces an uncanny fusion of their sonics. Constructed using synthesizer, piano, electronics, and voice, this soft-focus dream world is lush, evocative, and fleeting. It finds two composers tuning their respective styles inward as an ode to mutual inspiration, a celebration of the human spirit and its will to surrender to the currents of life. Early into their correspondence, Smith and Mosseri realized they were neighbors in Los Angeles and met up for a few hikes. Their conversations led to a musical exchange over email. The exercise became a sketch, the start of their first song together, "Log In Your Fire,” with Mosseri finding flourishes in Smith’s cathartic synth lines to intonate and harmonize alongside. Lyrically, it's a beautiful, open-ended sentiment. "Being a log in someone's fire, to me, means letting go, and surrendering to that feeling," says Mosseri. From there, the pair composed a series of musical foundations, trading files from afar, nurturing the eventual expansion as the remote days of 2020 set in. Smith likens the collaborative experience to the exciting uncertainty of starting a garden, "doing what I can to facilitate growth while enjoying the process of being surprised by what will actually grow." In the summer of 2021, the duo finished work on the sequel, I Could Be Your Moon, expanding their musical language as the first part reached its September release. Songs from these more recent exchanges find them even more synced, forging into percussive and harmonic experiments, leaning further into their “unused musical muscles,” as Smith and Mosseri put it. A unified vocal presence emerged. “As the friendship grew I think we both learned how to support each other more and musically that was communicated through singing together,” adds Smith. Now taken as a full album set, I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon moves fluidly from track to track, panning through textural vignettes. Two roughly 17-minute halves, the set evokes the bittersweet sense of something too bright or rare to last, a short-lived glimpse into a golden hour. "Moon In Your Eye" sends a choral refrain skyward; we stay behind, watching it haze away in the heavens. "Brush" bubbles with Smith's characteristic wonder and curiosity, expressed in a flutter of horn-like sounds, leading into the album's central expression, its titular track. Above pulsing harmonies, in his tender falsetto, Mosseri repeats variations of the mantra, "I don't want to feel / lost anymore /I can’t make you what I am." He says the idea they are reaching for is more abstract and universal, "It could mean I could be your friend / buddy, I could be someone / something else, I could transform, I could be your companion, etc. What I like about it is it could change based on what that means to you, or what the word dog means to you." The orchestral march of 'oohs and ahhs' on "Blink Twice” could register as both triumphant and tragic. "Moonweed," strays closer to the latter, with low and slow piano keys guiding the alien hums of a starlit goodbye. I Could Be Your Moon, the second installment and side B of the record, opens with the striking “Green To You.” Depicting a dream or a need for renewal — to be new in the eyes of another, all excitement of seeing and being seen as imagined, idealized versions of ourselves — the song unveils the duo’s newly fused voice. “I only want to be green to you,” they sing, as an organ phrase swirls underneath. There’s a wistful sense that bleeds into instrumental “Amber” and continues across “Standing In Your Light,” a piano ballad-turned-mini-symphony that traces over feelings of remorse (“I was distracted / overreacted… come to your senses”). “Shim Sham” starts woozily in anticipation before flipping on a drum break, becoming the collection’s energetic apex; their hums dance with the beat, wordless yet undoubtedly expressive. Once introduced, the percussion stays and syncopates for “Golden Cow,” another radiant duet that reads like a playful plea, or a reminder to their creative selves (“slow down / be careful now / you’ve done this one before”). The record ends inside “Radio Replacement,” a swan song in the lineage of somber album outros; lyrically they reflect on past loves and the passage of time, personifying the music (“I would really love to be / your favorite melody / for a while”). There is a dreamy, elemental intention to this music, which Smith and Mosseri say came naturally, as they both embraced intuitive interplay throughout their creative back-and-forth. The stylistic threads of each composer are recognizable yet become more ambiguous as the album progresses, sewn into a singular vision. "I'm so grateful that my musical ideas could dance with hers with some grace and harmony," says Mosseri. Smith adds that this experience helped her "remember that music can be a connecting layer of friendship, especially in a time when the usual ways were out of reach."

A beautiful album re-emerges from realms of mystery! The long- awaited vinyl reissue of a Japanese neoclassical/experimental/new age/electronic music classic, originally released in 1978. ”Crystallization” is a work of unwavering perfection, whose sparkle has become even more brilliant over time, in the midst of the new age music revival that has emerged in recent years and the rediscovery of Japanese environmental music so-called Kankyō-ongaku. This was SAB's first and only solo album, recorded at his home and a studio in Osaka by a 19-year-old musical prodigy who, after the album's release, left Japan for the U.S. to follow the teachings of Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh and has never been heard from again. Two other musicians provide instrumental contributions, but the majority of the album was recorded and produced by SAB himself with multiple recordings & overdubs of various instruments, captured and crystallized on magnetic tape. The arrangements and instrumentation on this album show the influence of Brian Eno and the Obscure label of the time, but SAB's weave of electronics, field recordings and conventional instrumentation simultaneously avoids those influences and sits outside any direct electronic music lineage; it has achieved the status of a new classic for audiences in the 2020s. This reissue of the second release on the legendary Osaka label Vanity Records, run by the eccentric producer Yuzuru Agi, is a 24bit/48kHz A/D transfer from the original 1978 master tapes, high-quality cutting. Comes with Japanese/English liner notes, a lot of rare photos.

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.

Eiko Ishibashi & Jim O'Rourke's fifth collaboration remixes live material from their 2023 European tour. Pareidolia weaves improvised performances from France, Switzerland, Italy & Ireland into a dynamic sound collage, blending computer-generated textures with flute & harmonica. A meditation on perception & randomness.

For this collaborative release, Eiko Ishibashi & Jim O'Rourke edited and remixed material captured at shows they played during a lovely two week tour through France, Switzerland, Italy and Ireland in April 2023. Pareidolia shapes an ideal collage from the best resonances and relationships from those nights. A dynamic medley of colour and shape to pulse through earbuds, speaker cones and the air around you, appealing to your suggestibility, wherever you find it - "the tendency to perceive a specific, often meaningful image in a random or ambiguous visual pattern; to see shapes or make pictures out of randomness."

Eiko Ishibashi and Jim O'Rourke toured Europe for two weeks in 2023, a wonderful passage through France, Switzerland, Italy and Ireland. Pareidolia, the duo's fifth collaborative release, is a remix made up of resonances from those shows. The movement of sound in each performance and the relationships of sound between them; a dynamic medley of colour and shape to pulse through earbuds, speaker cones and the air immediately surrounding you. Improvisation is the preferred collaborative mode for Eiko and Jim. They both prepare separately, without discussing anything beforehand. The dialogue in the moment determines the performance; anything that takes place is a possible point of departure, allowing for a unique experience each time they play. These 2023 shows marked the first time Jim and Eiko had played together outside Japan. Perhaps the flow of parts unpacked from their respective computers was inspired by the experiences of the tour: the nature of the assembled audience, the quality of the meal on the day at hand. Additionally, Eiko played flute and they both played a bit of harmonica intermittently throughout the performances. These live acoustic signals were routed back to the hard drives, to provide further material to play with — and as they travelled, recordings of the previous nights' shows were among the materials for the next performance. With all this to play with, there was much fun to be had every night. Pareidolia's final mix is one further rearrangement of the elements — comping — say, a bit of Jim from Paris against Eiko in Dublin for a minute, before bringing them both back into the same room for a spell before another set of interactions comes into play. The choices and edits represented here make yet another unique dialogue, as well as a kind of 'best' version of what they were doing on the tour.

For us at home, the sense of inevitability in the parts as they flow together might suggest structure; happily, this occurs without Eiko and Jim really committing to anything of the sort. Their available sound sources could present as a hot-wired noise onslaught, with all faders up full. Endless possible interpretations to be had on either side of the experience! This is one of several ways that the LP title and sequence of song titles come into play. Listeners hearing something more should have a good look in the mirror and perhaps consider the old saying: "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you."

In Sheep’s Clothing is excited to announce our first archival release: Electric Satie, a one-off conceptual project by acclaimed Japanese electronic music producer Mitsuto Suzuki. Originally released on CD-only in 1998, Gymnopédie ’99 reimagines Erik Satie’s beloved piano compositions in electronic form ranging sonically from downtempo bossa-nova (featuring Brazilian percussionist Marco Bosco and vocalist Silvio Anastacio) to freestyle ambience and chillout room IDM, not far from the music featured on Music from Memory’s Virtual Dreams or Warp Record’s Artificial Intelligence.

A deeply imaginative composer and arranger, Suzuki was inspired early on by Yellow Magic Orchestra to develop his own style of synthesizer music. Suzuki’s first releases include 1994’s Voices Of Planet, an acid techno set under his ARP-2600 moniker, and “Medium Feedback,” which was included on Haruomi Hosono’s 1996 Daisy World Tour compilation album.

On Electric Satie, Suzuki harnesses a unique mix of drum machines, synthesizers (Prophet 5, Memorymoog, PPG Wave, Juno 106, JX-8P, nord modular & nordlead, AKAI & Emu samplers), live percussion, soprano saxophone, piano, and spoken word to craft a lush and vividly futuristic sound world. Compositions like Gymnopédie, Sarabande, Son Binocle, and Musique D'ameublement (Furniture Music) are reimagined with electro-rhythms and inventive digital effects processing, while retaining the sweet melodic simplicity and otherworldly modal harmonies of Satie’s timeless piano works.

FJLP-05 continues with Forest Jams recent trend of Japanese re-issues from the 90’s. This one is E.S. Island’s “Southwind from Hachijo” a deep ambient exploration that is more tribal and spiritual than prior E.S. Island releases. This was recorded on Hachijo Island featuring several traditional instruments with the bulk of the music being played by Eisuke Takahashi (R.I.P.) and Nene Sanae. Limited copies.

At the end of my armA finger, a thread, a vanishing pointWhere nothing can be seen and the air is movingAnnie A, the one-off collaborative project between Félicia Atkinson, Time is Away’s Jack Rollo and Elaine Tierney, Christina Petrie and Maxine Funke, arrives on A Colourful Storm with a profoundly inquisitive, exploratory composition evoking questions of inconstancy and reconciliation, vastness and finitude, and the sometimes cruel deception of human perception. Who will conduct our dreams if we never wake?Annie A quietly observes and attempts to compartmentalise the answers. A geographically diverse yet determinedly like-minded ensemble, its seeds were sown during a spring night in London, where time on stage was shared and cherished by Atkinson, Time is Away and Petrie after years of mutual appreciation. Atkinson had found solace in Time is Away’s Ballads, Funke’s Seance and particularly the voice of poet and performer Petrie, whose remarkable delivery, first heard on Ballads, here drifts effortlessly from a wide-eyed stream of consciousness to crystalline sensory expression: “The wind is full of creases / It is shaking the weak threads in the cliff / The coast is releasing teeth and nails into the air”. It is the perfect accompaniment to Atkinson’s hushed tones - a sometimes textural, if not spectral, presence - spoken sensitively like a mother to a resting child, reflecting upon the forces of nature, the fragility of ecology and the surrendering of self to air, rain, and earth.Devotees of Atkinson’s practice will recognise the significance of the natural world in her work, her evocative sonic landscapes formed from a toolbox of keyboard, voice and materials collected from everyday life on the dramatic rocky coast of Normandy, as well as field recordings from places far and wide. She breathes life into liminal spaces, the sound of wind, whispers and the distant clatter of rocks conjuring visions of places both beautiful and eerily familiar. Petrie wanders curiously in these places. “First the Crocus” introduces her desirous cries above a wistful electronic signal, the alternation with Atkinson’s whispers suggestive of each other’s distant presence. “The wind that had not touched land, moving with the warm gyre of the sea / Is now touching land / And is beginning to draw the dust”. What is her fate when this wind touches land? The meeting of the other, the crossing of paths. Their voices, layered and dreamlike, drift and entrance each other with gossamer intensity.Interpreting and arranging the field of sonic accoutrements is Time is Away, whose weaving, layering and sensitivity to detail is likened to the meticulous assembly of an Anni Albers textile. The spirit of Albers guides the piece’s entirety, Petrie’s recounting of her loom and thread a symbol of endurance, vitality and seeking wonder in intricacies: “Every thread needs to pass through the eye of a needle before you begin / I keep wondering, I just keep wondering what will happen”. The piece concludes with a timely appearance by Funke, whose meditation on vulnerability confronts and surrenders herself to the enchanting natural world.

It is a human and artistic adventure made up of craftsmanship, passion, and continuous exchanges between high culture and pop tensions, that of Italo-House. A story of laboratories, sound workshops where the fascination for new technologies and the infinite possibilities they offered, is often mixed with the rigour for classical scores, the result of academic studies at the Conservatory. A story that is then intertwined with that of the balere, the places for dancing and socialising, where dance was not only an opportunity to stage a whirlwind pursuit of hedonism, but was born out of the desire to make a community, to meet, to discover a new family, that of the night, often more welcoming than the original one. It is also the concretisation of a dream, that of being able to ‘reconstruct’ an identity that did not taste of belonging, but of exoticism, of gazes turned towards the Afro-American culture, the one that derived from funk, soul, r'n'b, lived at times with the Salgarian spirit of ‘travelling without moving’.
Italian house was the first, anticipating the irruption of the digital scenarios that have forever changed ‘making art’, to redefine, to redraw a map that did not exist, that of the ‘young’ sound that shifted its creative trajectories from the megalopolises overseas (with all their urban poetics) to the Italian province, inside recording studios where a group of young maniacs of machines, mixers, synths, appropriated a language that was not their own and declined it by opening their minds, demonstrating, that indeed, anything is possible. They studied patterns that came from afar, they applied to those patterns the natural force of moving with sensuality, they showed that they knew perfectly how to build what rappers, a few years later, would call ‘The Perfect Rhythm’. They sought it out in the endless nights of discotheques, of dance halls, from the glitziest ones that would set the standard for Ibizan nightlife to the after-hours clubs on the outskirts of small towns. They succeeded in defining a syntax that, shortly afterwards, would mark, with its influence, the advent of what would become ‘club culture’. So many theme songs, often created for the occasion, rhythmic and melodic sequences packaged with the awareness that there are codified rules that can enhance ‘body language’. Sequences that, often, with their authors, would then fly to New York in search of the splendid voice to hire for a turn in the recording studio, to give the song that definitive and planetary dimension that has, with great ease, spanned the decades.
Authentic musicians, for the most part, those of the Italian house wave, often masters of the orchestra, other times electronic experimenters who were more familiar with the obscure and very, very underground rock clubs of new wave, with the distortions of post-punk, which had opened the ‘doors of perception’ in sound, rather than with the glittering clubs of the ‘original’ disco.
Music of mixture, in short, the representation of an aspiration, as one would say a few decades later, ‘glocal’, the maximum of localisation meets the maximum of globalisation. The airy crystalline openings, the national romanticism, the song that is tinged with black atmospheres, that wanders through the unfrequented streets of the ghetto and comes out with the strength of sentimentality that, in its best expressions, succeeds in making the liberating joy of dance a tactile experience.