MUSIC

A Series of Actions in a Sphere of Forever is a collection of nine solo piano works that explore resistance, resonance, and space with a distinctive spectral sensitivity. These pieces are nocturnes, written deep in conservation in Winter, in a small rural studio in Valens, Canada. A Series of Actions in a Sphere of Forever is the follow-up to From Where You Came that was released in May and earned a RA Recommend and The Guardian’s Experimental Album of the Month calling it a "quiet ecstasy from a composer without boundaries".

Félicia Atkinson’s Ni envers ni endroit que cette roche brûlante (Pour Georgia O’Keeffe) is approached as a meditation, not as meditative music, but as a reflection on the art of creation: how to inhabit one’s creation, how to convey it, domesticate it and live with it. Drawing inspiration from the artist Georgia O’ Keeffe, both in her work as a painter and in the houses in which she lived in New Mexico, and even in the landscapes that surround them, Félicia Atkinson has composed a piece that evokes and celebrates, in a poetic and holistic way, the mystery of art, the somnambulic oscillation that accompanies the act of creating. Blending fragmentary voices, islands of piano, electronic textures and patterns, and field recordings, Félicia Atkinson’s music is sincere and inspired, a meditation, then, but also a lesson we sometimes forget: being an artist is not an activity, even less a profession, it’s a singular way of approaching the world and, in so doing, densifying it. « Ni envers ni endroit que cette roche brûlante (Pour Georgia O’Keeffe) », de Félicia Atkinson, s’aborde comme une méditation, non pas comme une musique méditative, mais bien comme une réflexion autour de l’art de créer ; comment habiter sa création, comment la porter, la domestiquer et vivre avec. En puisant son inspiration chez l’artiste Georgia O’ Keeffe, à la fois dans son travail de peintre, mais également dans les maisons dans lesquelles elle a vécu, au Nouveau-Mexique, ou même dans les paysages qui les environnent, Félicia Atkinson compose ici une pièce qui évoque et célèbre, de manière poétique et holistique, le mystère de l’art, le balancement somnambulique qui accompagne l’acte de créer. Mêlant voix fragmentaire, îlots de piano, textures et trames électroniques ou encore enregistrements de terrain, la musique que nous offre Félicia Atkinson est une musique sincère et inspirée, une méditation, donc, mais aussi une leçon qu’on oublie parfois : être artiste, ce n’est pas une activité, encore moins une profession, c’est une façon singulière d’aborder le monde et, par là même, de le densifier. — Richard Chartier’s music takes up residence at the frontiers of the audible, on the edge where sound diffracts into an inter-dimensionality where sounds, space, listening and silence recombine in an arborescence of becomings that present themselves to us and then disappear. The space-time in which Richard Chartier’s music unfolds is a stretched space-time, barely emerging in the world of sound. The delicacy, precision and accuracy of the composition Recurrence.Expansion lies precisely in this dialogue between a shape that is exposed and developed in an inspired and masterful way, and the sonic biotope in which this shape develops. It is from such an encounter that the singularity of Richard Chartier’s music emerges, music of attentive listening, but also sensitive, inhabited music, a music of discreet metamorphosis. La musique de Richard Chartier se loge aux frontières de l’audible, dans cette lisière où le son se diffracte dans une inter-dimensionalité où les sons, l’espace sonores, l’écoute et le silence se recombinent en une arborescence de devenirs qui se présentent à nous et disparaissent. L’espace-temps dans lequel se déploie la musique de Richard Chartier est un espace-temps étiré, affleurant à peine dans le monde sonore. La délicatesse, la précision et la justesse de la composition Recurrence.Expansion réside précisément dans ce dialogue entre une forme exposée, déclinée, de manière inspirée et maitrisée, et le biotope sonore dans lequel cette forme se développe. C’est d’une telle rencontre qu’émerge la singularité de la musique de Richard Chartier, musique d’écoute attentive, mais également musique sensible, habitée, une musique des métamorphoses discrètes. —Francois J. Bonnet, Paris, March 2023

MINOS CIRCUIT Minos Circuit is the resonance of a double exploration, that of an instrument, the bassoon - an instrument dear to Dafne Vicente-Sandoval - and that of a listening, of a gaze, almost. The first exploration deconstructs the instrument, tearing it apart, reducing it to an archipelago of sound bodies stimulated by an electro-acoustic device that generates feedback and infiltrates each part of the bassoon, in order to carry out a methodical, systematic examination. The second exploration is the inner one of attention and listening, the one that measures, at each moment, the necessity or not of an intervention in the very act of the musical work, of this subtle balance that is established between composition and observation, between action and contemplation. Minos Circuit est la mise en résonance d’une exploration double, celle d’un instrument, le basson — instrument cher à Dafne Vicente-Sandoval — et celle d’une écoute, d’un regard, presque. La première exploration déconstruit l’instrument, le met en pièce, le réduisant en un archipel de corps sonores stimulés par un dispositif électroacoustique générateurs de larsens qui vont s’infiltrer dans chacune des parties du basson, pour en faire l’examen méthodique, systématique. La seconde exploration, c’est celle, intérieure, de l’attention et de l’écoute, celle qui mesure, à chaque instant, la nécessité ou non d’une intervention dans l’agir même de l’œuvre, de cette bascule subtile qui s’établit entre composition et observation, entre action et contemplation. — TRANSFIGURATION 4 Both a “meditation on musical ruins” and “a study of the material of Richard Strauss’s Metamorfosen”, Transfiguration 4 works on the musical fragment as an expressive and poetic possibility that can be deployed below or beyond simple musical syntax, a syntax that is still too often equated with music itself. What Lars Petter Hagen highlights in this remarkable work is that the power of music lies at its fringes, that is, at the edge of its own disappearance. Transfiguration 4 floats in a particularly moving way in these troubled lands, where nothing is ever resolved, and where everything, however, is suspended, like a stream of blurred memories that memory would summon to form an intuition. A musical intuition. A la fois « méditation sur les ruines musicales » et « étude du matériau de Metamorfosen de Richard Strauss », Transfiguration 4 travaille le fragment musical comme possibilité expressive, poétique, pouvant se déployer en-deçà ou au-delà de la simple syntaxe musicale, syntaxe encore trop souvent assimilée à la musique même. Ce que met en lumière Lars Petter Hagen dans cette œuvre remarquable, c’est que la puissance de la musique se situe à ses franges, c’est-à-dire aux lisières de sa propre disparition. Transfiguration 4 flotte de manière particulièrement émouvante dans ces contrées troubles, où rien jamais ne se résout, et où tout, pourtant, se suspend, comme un flux de souvenirs flous que la mémoire convoquerait pour former une intuition. Une intuition musicale.

Jon Porras possesses a rare acuity for locating the pulse of a sonic landscape and carving out its emotional core. His work has long drawn from the friction of organic forms and electronic processing, but Achlys finds him moving further into texture, erosion, and weight. This is music steeped in collapse—not as spectacle, but as slow process. These pieces do not unfold, they gather. Guitar, sub-bass, modular synthesis, and processed noise accumulate like sediment, layering into compositions that move more like weather systems than traditional songs.Framed around the language of filmmaking, Achlys invokes overlapping frames, blurred edits, and disjunctive pacing. Porras cites the textural depth of the film 'El Mar La Mar' as a key influence, particularly its use of layered sound to evoke emotional density. The album navigates a sequence of fractured sonic vignettes: crumbling environments, monumental silence, and landscapes both real and internal. Structure becomes permeable. Each piece gestures toward both presence and disappearance.Central to the record is a tension between form and formlessness. Fingerpicked guitar compositions were written, recorded, and then pushed through modular processing chains, where their original structure became blurred or buried. Often, multiple pieces were written in isolation and layered without synchronization, allowing intentional dissonance to guide the resulting textures. The approach favors drift and friction, with melodies ghosting through blurred intervals, creating tension between memory and distortion.The album begins with "Fields," where faint guitar phrases are immersed in hollow, resonant tones that feel more remembered than played. Warmth flickers at the edges, filtered and remote, like light pushing through soot. On "Holodiscus," elegiac lines drift across a soft undercurrent of dissonance, quietly resisting the pull toward collapse. The title track slips between clarity and distortion, turning harmonic fragments into a shimmering lattice of decay. Throughout the album, sustained tones stretch time into a blur, while processed guitar gestures emerge and recede like echoes from adjoining rooms. Each piece carries an emotional imprint without insisting on direction, leaving behind textures that feel both tactile and unsettled.Much of Achlys was composed during violet mountain storms. Living in a forested elevation high above sea level, Porras describes listening to trees sway under pressure, their movements generating both deep, low-end resonance and fragile, intricate patterns of creaks and rustles. This duality of scale—immense and minute—filters into the record's sonic palette. On "Sea Storm," the low end churns and pulls downward, scattering guitar fragments in its wake. "Before the Rite" swells with abrasive density and distorted harmonics—a moment of near-overwhelm held right at the edge. The sounds remain suspended, refusing to resolve.Achlys moves through a territory of shifting thresholds—where light and shadow, structure and erosion exist side by side without dissolving into opposition. Rather than aiming for clarity of conclusion, the album offers a cyclical form of emergence and erosion. It is sonically dense yet spacious, emotionally resonant but untethered from narrative. Nothing here is fixed. Everything carries the trace of having been something else. While some fragments fade and others linger, all of them shape the atmosphere.

Few years ago, an idea germinated while reading The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann. An idea not driven by the narrativity of the book, but by the traces and the aura invoked in it. That was it: an audible auratic journey trough the memories of a place lost in the heights of the swiss mountains.

A century after the events depicted in the book, we went where the story took place, trying to capture the remaining sounds that could have been heard at the time, and the ghosts who might have still wandered around.

Zauberberg is based on these captures, on recordings of the music played by Hans Castorp (the novel’s main character), on acoustic/electronic instrumentation and digital processing. The result is an evokation of time and duration, an exploration of what remains and what is lost, a meditation of the dissolution and persistence of the aura surrounding everything.

Studying under Robert Ashley and Terry Riley at the fabled Mills College Center For Contemporary Music before graduating into the margins of the '70s bay area new music scene, Ms. Brouk blazed her own trail well outside of the musical establishment to create uncompromising electronic and acoustic work of sleek beauty and primal power. Describing herself as less a composer than a channel, she took her cues from the frequencies of the natural world and the talents of collaborators like Maggi Payne and Bill Maraldo. Hearing Music collects for the first time the deepest cuts from her beguiling and rare cassette releases and her archive of previously unreleased recordings.

Deeply resonant spiritual music transmitted via piano, organ, and harmonium by beloved composer and Ethiopian Orthodox nun Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru.

Church of Kidane Mehret collects all the musical work from Emahoy’s 1972 private press album of the same name, alongside two additional unreleased piano recordings, exploring Emahoy’s take on “Ethiopian Church Music.”

Recording herself in churches throughout Jerusalem, Emahoy engages directly with the Ethiopian Orthodox musical liturgy. For the first time, we hear Emahoy on harmonium and massive, droning pipe organ, alongside some of her most moving piano work.

“Ave Maria” is one of our favorite pieces Emahoy ever recorded, her chiming piano reverberating against ancient stone walls. Her familiar melodic lines take on new resonance when played through the harmonium on “Spring Ode - Meskerem.” Two towering organ performances comprise the B Side, combining Emahoy’s classical European training with her lifelong study of Ethiopian religious music.

Nowhere is Emahoy’s unique combination of influences more apparent than on “Essay on Mahlet,” a meditative slow burner in which Emahoy interprets the free verse of the Orthodox liturgy note for note on the piano. This revelatory piece, alongside the dramatic piano composition “The Storm,” comes from another self-released album, 1963’s Der Sang Des Meeres. Only 50 copies were ever produced (and no cover). One of the only known copies was saved from the trash and shared with Mississippi by a fellow nun at Emahoy’s monastery when we visited for Emahoy’s funeral in March of 2023.

We are proud to work with the Emahoy Tsege Mariam Music Foundation to bring you these rare spiritual recordings in what would have been the artist’s 102nd year.

Available in black and clear vinyl editions. Old-school tip-on jacket with metallic silver foil stamping along with a 12-page booklet featuring extensive liner notes from scholar and pianist Thomas Feng.

The iconic soundtrack to all time best seller and frankly, possible best game ever Minecraft is back. This time around versions Alpha and Beta have been repackaged into one holy cassette union, showcasing C418's enchanting compositions and ambient collages, gently pieced together from soft piano, electronic pads and atmospheric, ghostly sounds.

Eduardo Polonio (1941–2024) was one of the foundational figures in the emergence and development of electroacoustic music in Spain. The anthology "Eduardo Polonio: Obra electroacústica 1969–1981" revives his legacy with a selection of essential pieces from his early electroacoustic period. The album includes eight compositions created between 1969 and 1981, spanning from Polonio's early experiments at the Alea Electronic Music Laboratory in Madrid to his later work at the Phonos Laboratory in Barcelona. From the raw electronic textures of "Para una pequeña margarita ronca" (1969) to the timbral subtleties of "Flautas, voces, animales, pájaros..." (1981), this collection showcases Polonio’s artistic evolution and highlights different facets of his work as a composer and musician. The included works reflect this multifaceted aesthetic. "Oficio" (1969) is a real-time improvisation recorded using two low-frequency generators and a modified electric guitar amplifier for sound modulation. "Rabelaisiennes" (1969), for prepared guitar, explores minimalism and instrumental experimentation. "Continuo" (1970), a piece for electric guitar and bass, anticipates ambient music while engaging with free jazz and psychedelia. "Me voy a tomar el Orient Express" (1976) stands out for its rhythmic and harmonic interplay between the lines forming the sonic texture. "Valverde" (1981) offers a microscopic study of a distinctive way flamenco guitar concludes bulerías phrases. "El reclinatorio en el tejado de la lejana abadía" (1971) is structured as an imaginary soundscape in the form of a suite. Polonio’s life and work parallel the history of electroacoustic music in Spain. As one of the most significant composers of his generation, he was both a witness and participant in the technological evolution and various aesthetic movements of the late 20th century. From his beginnings at Alea, Spain’s first electronic music laboratory, to his collaborations with figures like Horacio Vaggione and Josep Maria Mestres Quadreny at Phonos, Polonio carved a unique path in the history of Spanish experimental music. "Eduardo Polonio: Obra electroacústica 1969–1981" is released by Buh Records as a limited double LP edition and in digital format, in collaboration with the Asociación de Música Electroacústica de España (AMEE). The audio in this edition has been restored and mastered directly from the master tapes by Víctor Aguado. The album includes extensive liner notes written by Víctor Aguado and Ramón del Buey, with artwork and design by Gonzalo de Montreuil.

As trans-Atlantic alchemists pulling from a shared dialectic that somehow encompassed both postmodern deconstructionist tendencies and a delightfully subversive sense of poptimism, it’s easy to see how David Cunningham and Peter Gordon immediately hit it off upon initially meeting each other back in the late-1970s at the height of their youthful transgressions. Having initially worked together on the second Flying Lizards’ LP fourth wall, with its ingenious fusion of dismantled rhythms and rearranged melodies juxtaposed against the slyly sultry singing of Snatch’s Patti Palladin— with Gordon adding a few sprinkles of mischievous sax in the mix— it’s no wonder the collaboration would lead to further musical adventures.

Which leads us directly to the genesis of The Yellow Box. Embarking on a collaborative exercise in the structural repurposing of music as untethered puzzle pieces in need of rearrangement with no predetermined outcomes, the duo gave birth to a project that would see them move through both time and recording studios across Europe, taking nearly two years from 1981-1983 to complete. Enlisting the great Anton Fier on drums from The Feelies/Lounge Lizards nexus and John Greaves on bass from Henry Cow/Soft Heap lore to round out their dueling creative counterparts, the album would be something of a lost treasure until its eventual release on Cunningham’s Piano imprint in 1996.

Cinematic in scope, and filled with drifting drones, beautiful counter-melodies, eery minimalism, Kraftwerkian synthesizers, looped voices, skronky interludes, and other shifting undercurrents of sound, it was an album that utilized both a diverse array of expressive languages, as well as early sampling techniques and prepared instruments, well before most people were thinking in such expansive, integrated terms at the dawn of the 80’s. But such is life at the vanguard of new music. And one of the reasons that it likely sat on the shelf for so long before finally being released well over a decade later. Like a sparser, less groove-oriented version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, or a more radical take on the experimental work of Can’s Holger Czukay, The Yellow Box stands at the crossroads of time and technology, fusing multiple strands of musical thought and compositional techniques into a disjointed whole that somehow still comes off as a conceptually complete record.

Now, here it is again, over 40 years later, with perhaps even more historical resonance than it had before, remade and remodeled just waiting to be rediscovered again.

Since his debut in 2018, keyboardist John Carroll Kirby has been consistently churning out masterpieces, and has collaborated with some of the biggest names in music, including Blood Orange, Solange, and The Avalanches. John Carroll Kirby, a keyboardist who has collaborated with superstars such as Blood Orange, Solange, and The Avalanches, is back with his latest live instrumental release on the hallowed Stones Throw label. This is the latest in a long line of live instrumentals from keyboardist John Carroll Kirby, who has broken new ground in his career, moving from fourth-world ambient, meditative new age, and modern classical styles to more exciting soul jazz and hip hop. It's a modern Afro-jazz album that embodies the freedom and dynamism of LA!

Mikkel Metal makes a welcome return to Echocord with his new ‘Rebuild’ EP, accompanying remixes from Luke Hess and Frenk Dublin. Copenhagen’s Mikkel Metal is a pioneering figure in dub-techno and minimal house, known for his atmospheric soundscapes and textured production. With acclaimed releases on Kompakt and Echocord, including Close Selections, Victimizer, and Peaks and Troughs he’s cemented his place as one of Denmark’s most distinctive electronic artists. Here he continues to dispay this further diving into new sonic realms with a new EP for Echocord. Title-track ‘Rebuild’ opens, a hazy excursion through metallic, reverberations, expansive atmospherics and crisp drums before Detroit’s own Luke Hess steps in to offer his interpretation, delivering his signature groove-driven style, extracting the essence of the original and stirring it in amongst robust drums and spiralling dub echoes. ‘Bend’ is up next and displaying Mikkel’s production prowess as he blends murky bass flutters and analogue rhythms with psychedelic guitar melodies and dynamic space echoes, resulting in something that sounds uniquely his own. ‘Steam’ continues this theme with further psychedelia infused guitar tones flowing alongside breathy vocal stylings and fluttering atmospherics tucked into the depths. Rotterdam, Netherlands based artist Frenk Dublin delivers his ‘Deep Space Rework’ of ‘Stream next, reshaping the original into something entirely different with a dropped-tempo roots dub aesthetic, weaving fragments of the original into the composition alongside swaying dub drums and heavy doses of sub. ‘Midnite’ then concludes the release, another experimental sonic foray into unique effect processing, glitched out percussion, haunting vocals, plucked bass notes and expansive atmospherics.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce a tenth anniversary reissue of Oren Ambarchi’s Quixotism, originally released on Editions Mego in 2014. Recorded with a multitude of collaborators in Europe, Japan, Australia and the USA, Quixotism presents the fruit of two years of work in the form of a single, LP-length piece in five parts. Quixotism takes the driving rhythmic aspect of works such as Sagittarian Domain to new levels, with the entirety of this long-form work built on a foundation of pulsing double-time electronic percussion provided by Thomas Brinkmann. Beginning as almost subliminal propulsion behind cavernous orchestral textures and John Tilbury’s delicate piano interjections, the percussive elements (elaborated on by Ambarchi and Matt Chamberlain) slowly inch into the foreground of the piece before suddenly breaking out into a polyrhythmic shuffle around the halfway mark, and joined by master Japanese tabla player U-zhaan for the piece’s final, beautiful passages. The pulse acts as thread leading the listener through a heterogeneous variety of acoustic spaces, from the concert hall in which the Icelandic Symphony Orchestra were recorded to the intimacy of crys cole’s contact-mic textures. Ambarchi’s guitar itself ranges over this wide variety of acoustic spaces, from airless, clipped tones to swirling, reverberated fog. Within the complex web Ambarchi spins over the piece’s steadily pulsing foundation, elements approach and recede in a non-linear fashion, even as the piece plots an overall course from the grey, almost Nono-esque reverberated space of its opening section to the crisp foreground presence of Jim O’Rourke’s synth and Evyind Kang’s strings in its final moments. Formally indebted to the side-long workouts of classic Cologne techno, the long-form works of composers such as Éliane Radigue and the organic push and pull of improvised performance, Quixotism is constantly in motion, yet its transitions happen slowly and steadily, often nearly imperceptible, the diverse elements which make up the piece succeeding one another with the logic of a dream. At the time of its first release, Quixotism was clearly a summation of Ambarchi’s work in the years leading up to it. Now, listening back a decade later, it also seems like an arrow pointing to the future, suggesting paths that would be explored further in works to come: the pulsating guitar layers of Hubris, the album-length collaboration with Jim O’Rourke and U-zhaan on Hence, Shebang’s joyous layering and percussive drive. Now sounding better than ever in a new remaster by Joe Talia, the time is ripe to rediscover its quixotic charms.

Short Span hail a twinkling star in their ambient x dub microcosm with Yu Su’s 2nd LP of elegant arrangements entwined with chops by Seefeel, A Dip in the Pool and Memotone, displaying distance travelled over her 10 year catalogue. Preceded by a reputation earned over the past decade for mesmerising DJ sets, a split with CS + Kreme, and gems scattered across PPU to Second Circle and bié Records, Yu Su occupies a fissure of practice between downbeat ambient pop and dance music which has made her a cult concern. Her 2nd solo LP ‘Foundry’ continues to explore sensuous space between styles, with an effortless sense of atmosphere that's gently insistent to more rolling and dreamy motion, always with a quietly steady hand on the rudder. The chewy mid tempo acid title of the title track ‘Foundry’ best belies Yu Su’s links to the ‘floor at the album’s core, along with the lowkey groove-driven micro-dub of ‘Cul De Sac’ or ‘Wanly’, and breezy finesse of ‘Ripe Fruits’. The rest is really a showcase for her sound sensibilities, which ooze from the sticky sway of ‘A Jewel’ with Japanese ambient pop explorer Dip In The Pool, thru the pastoral 4th world scape of ’Sunless’ ft. Memotone, and gently strung-out fever dream scenery of ‘One Place After Another’ benefiting from Seefeel’s super spacious proprioception, drawn to a sublime resting heart rate with the frayed ambient fabric teased into ‘Os Cionn.’

“Everything flows – nothing remains, there is only an eternal becoming and changing” is a well-known formulation of the river theory of the Greek philosopher Heraclitus, also known as panta rhei (ancient Greek: πάντα ῥεῖ, “everything flows”). This teaching states that everything in the universe is subject to constant change and that nothing stays the same forever. The metaphor of the river illustrates this: You can't step into the same river twice because both the river and you are constantly changing. The water is constantly flowing, but the river stays in one place. Thus, reality is constantly changing, even if sometimes perceived as constant.” „Same Same but Different.“ Always different – always the same. Chill-Out DJ Heraklit For the 26th time, the most consistent of all ambient compilations, in a constant flux of static change, is released on Kompakt. Joining good friends from the early days and reliable confidants are some new additions to the non-hierarchical charts of contemplative rapture culture. Leading the way is Micå, a Japanese electronic musician whose finely chiseled, graceful musical style has made it onto the new collection with two pieces. Also making his debut is Richard Ojijo, a seasoned sound engineer known, among other things, for his long-standing collaboration with the artist Marcel Odenbach and the Cologne-based label Magazine. Oskø aka Max Hytrek, a multi-talented newcomer to Kompakt and the music scene, debuts with his rapturously ecstatic piece "Ar Vag." He's followed by Sebastian Mullaert, appearing for the second time—this time teamed up with Sebastian Lilja aka Hush Forever. After his surprise return last year after a 20 year hiatus, we are delighted that Tetsuo Sakae aka Pass Into Silence is back again this year with one of his distinctive sound gems. As are Dirk Leyers (Closer Musik) and Mikkel Metal. 18 tracks are featured on this CD. "Erlösung" (Redemption) is the title of Segensklang's closing track. A kind of ambient bolero into infinity. Or at least until next year... And what would Pop Ambient be without the iconic, artistic cover design of Veronika Unland, who once again, in her unmistakable way, says through the digital flower: The eye always listens...

The most important compilation in the history of electronic music "Artificial Intelligence" will be reissued on vinyl for the first time in 30 years! ! Includes valuable early recordings from Aphex Twin, Autechre, Richie Hawtin, Alex Peterson, and more! !

Many cutting-edge artists such as Aphex Twin, Autechre, Squarepusher, Boards of Canada, Flying Lotus, and Oneohtrix Point Never have been produced. A reissue of the legendary compilation "Artificial Intelligence" released 30 years ago by , a label that continues to make immeasurable achievements in history!
Released in 1992, this compilation features Aphex Twin's The Dice Man alias, Autecha and Richie Hawtin Up! (UP!), B12's Musicology, Alex Peterson (The Orb) and Jimmy Cauty (The KLF).
This work is the first work of the "Artificial Intelligence" series released from 1992 to 1994 by , and from the series, "Surfing On Sine Waves" under the name of Aphex Twin's Polygon Window, Black. Dog Productions' Bytes, B12's Electro-Soma, Richie Hawtin's F.U.S.E. Dimension Intrusion, Speedy J's Ginger, Outeka's Incunabula and Artificial Intelligence II were released. rice field.
The gatefold sleeves have been reimagined by The Designers Republic and cut in classic black wax by Beau Thomas of Ten Eight Seven Mastering.

＜Tracklist＞
01.The Dice Man - Polygon Window
02.Musicology - Telephone 529
03.Autechre - Crystal
04.I.A.O - The Clan
05.Speedy J - De-Orbit
06.Musicology - Premonition
07.UP! - Spiritual High
08.Autechre - The Egg
09.Dr Alex Paterson - Loving You Live

Hive Mind Records are thrilled to announce The Vertical Luminous, an immersive new album from F.Ampism that invites listeners into a singular sound-world of quietly ecstatic wonder. A dayglo collection of synth experiments, found sounds and musique concrète sound collage, The Vertical Luminous blurs all lines between the organic and the electronic, each piece shimmers with a sense of wide-eyed curiosity and lightness, tying the album together into a bubbling, serene gift to the world. Listening to The Vertical Luminous feels a little like tuning in to the secret noises of the microscopic world, the hum and flutter of atoms, molecules, and micro-organisms as they dance just beyond the limits of our perception. F.Ampism is Paul Wilson is F.Ampism. Sound/visual artist based in Brighton,UK. He also plays in Kaloja, a duo with Jan Anderzén (Tomutonttu, Kemialliset Ystävät) and Yayoba; a trio with Johannes Schebler (Baldruin, Grykë Pyje) and Jani Hirvonen (Grykë Pyje, Last Night on Earth). Member of Brighton-based gonzo free-jazz fünftet Bolide. Monthly radio show The Infinite Inward, on Resonance Extra. Check the archives here: extra.resonance.fm/series/the-infinite-inward When he’s not making stuff, he’s practising/teaching Yoga. F.Ampism has previously released on illustrious and discerning labels such as Ikuisuus, Chocolate Monk, Poot Records and Lal Lal Lal.

Originally released on the Anticipate label in 2007, "Standing on a Hummingbird" is the debut album by Canadian sound artist Mark Templeton, now appearing for the first time on vinyl, newly remastered by Giuseppe Ielasi and cut by LUPO. Working at the intersection of post-glitch, electroacoustic ambient, and textural minimalism, Templeton composes through restraint and erosion, building patient and richly tactile pieces primarily from acoustic sources - fingerpicked guitar, plaintive banjo, muted accordion tones - subjected to careful processes of granulation, filtering, and environmental masking. These gestures never overwhelm the source material; instead, they wonderfully destabilize it. Melodies appear briefly, only to dissolve into dense atmospheres of field recordings: distant streets, birds, water, air. Sounds hover, vibrate, and vanish, much like the wing beating latent in the album’s title. Tracks such as “Pattern For a Pillow” and “Amidst Things Uncontrolled” articulate this approach with particular clarity, setting languid acoustic figures against churning granular backdrops that feel at once sheltering and unstable. Elsewhere, moments of fragile clarity - fluttering guitar lines, reedy accordion tones - briefly break the surface before being absorbed back into the field. Heard today, the record offers a clarion, almost spartan strain of textural ambient music: intricate yet unforced, shaped by human touch rather than automated excess. Its refusal of spectacle feels especially vital in a landscape saturated with maximalist digitalia - a reminder that electronic music’s most enduring gestures often occur where sound is allowed to tremble and hold itself just long enough to be felt before disappearing once again. (Alex Cobb, 2026)

Faitiche is delighted to welcome a new artist: Christina Kubisch belongs to the first generation of sound artists. Her practice ranges from performances, concerts, to works with video and visual art, but she is best known for her sound installations and electro-acoustic compositions.

TUNING brings together three pieces by Christina Kubisch from different periods of her oeuvre. What they have in common is the way they transform sound phenomena originally considered “non-music” into compositions.

Jan Jelinek: Gaming in Silence (2024) is the most recent work on this compilation. It’s a collage of electromagnetic waves, voice, and abstract sound textures. How did this combination come about?

Christina Kubisch: Gaming was commissioned as a fixed-media composition for the Sound Dome at ZKM Karlsruhe. Since Resonances: The Electromagnetic Bodies Project (2005), I’ve been making recordings in the old and new server rooms at the ZKM and in their permanent collection of historical computer games. Computer games like Asteroids (Atari, 1979) and Poly-Play (VEB Polytechnik, 1986) have specially generated analogue electromagnetic waves that interest me in particular on account of their density, rhythms and textures. I originally studied painting and to me the work of composition often feels like painting an abstract picture. I alter my source material as little as possible, layering and overlapping until a distinctive sound space emerges. In recent pieces, I sometimes combine magnetic waves with field recordings or live instruments. In Gaming it’s my recording of a Chinese song about silence.

JJ: Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004) is a recording from your Electrical Walks series. Here we should give a brief explanation of one of your best known works: participants in an Electrical Walk move through public spaces wearing prepared headphones that allow them to receive electromagnetic waves from their surroundings – for example from security gates, ATMs or neon signs. They discover a situation that normally is inaudible to the human ear and they can actively shape it by choreographing their movements. I really admire this piece, not least because there’s no clear dividing line between participants and artist. What exactly do we hear in Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004)?

CK: With this early work, I wanted to understand what is heard by people participating in an Electrical Walk in the same place but moving in different ways. The Spanish composer Miguel Alvarez-Fernàndez and I set off from opposite ends of a major shopping street in Madrid, met briefly in the middle, and then continued to the end. We both recorded our walks and I then layered them over one another. You might call it a work of electromagnetic conceptualism.

JJ: Diapason (2009 version) is an installation that plays a composition based on sounds from fifteen tuning forks. This setting is audible in the recording: there’s no dramatic arc, no beginning or end – instead, it recalls a piece of aleatoric music focussing on the decay phase. How did you come to make this work and could you tell us something about your compositional method?

CK: Diapason is part of a series of three pieces that deal with “non-instruments” or instruments that no longer exist: electrical mine bells used to send signals to the workers underground; a historical glass harmonica originally used for medicinal purposes; and tuning forks that were used by doctors to test people’s hearing. All of these methods are no longer in use. The sound of the tuning forks, audible only if held close to the ear, was recorded at the electronic studio at Berlin’s Technical University in such a way that even their decay remained audible. The frequencies range between 64 and 2048 Hertz and they can be adjusted at micro-intervals using small movable weights. The sequence and the duration of the pauses are dictated by chance and were not defined in advance. The 2009 version was created for an installation in the historic Holy Cross Church (Korskirken) in Bergen. Visitors could enter and leave the space at any time, deciding for themselves where and for how long they wished to listen to the sounds played back over an array of small loudspeakers placed on the floor of the apse.

When you’re creating something loosely referred to as “art” with another person, you’re mining the depths of minds and experience, searching connections with pasts, each of us producing from a different place. Communication exists as unspoken and simultaneous, more carnal than collaborative, and dwelling rather than saying. We all miss that, wrapped up fantasies of perfectness and lovesick doves. Youth, how fleeting and naive. "Created by commission for the University of California at Irvine as a sound companion for an exhibition of 13 different 14th Century manuscripts. The original pieces existed as 13 different parts for each individual piece of art." Or so the origins of the original release in 2009 on Students of Decay state. What seemed real was a myriad liquor haze, fabrication, or imagination. Embellishment is equivalent to invention, and that moment when you can’t tell the difference between dreams or reality (I surely can’t remember which is which now) is important - and must be noted. I remember pouring over 14th century art, utilizing unauthorized library passes, and being witness to the trajectories of two individuals on divergent but somehow-crossing timelines. Originally recorded in 2007-2009 (?) by Danielle Baquet and Will Long, with backpacked gear, garage photography, sleepless nights and skipped work. I brought the tape and made the loops, she brought the laptop and the pen and paper. Try to look at it like this. Recorded in stereo, then split into two tracks for each left and right channel, reversing one side and adding reverse reverb, and the other long reverb and then reversing. Making each stereo again, then putting back together and blending each left and right together to make a stereo track again. This was an age of hybrid experiments between analog tape loops and digital processing, to render a new path, for better or worse. Somehow this correlated with a pad of scribbled poetry - whether original or quoted (one can never tell), a few random phone numbers, and the omnipresence of long-toed shoes in the 14th century paintings. “How befitting, like Georgia O’Keefe’s flowers.” What all comes down to is this - that sometimes those paths of yours and theirs cross for a time - and only for a time, and in that time, you’re there in that same place. It doesn’t mean that you know the other person, or that you ever will. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll be looking for the same thing at that moment, and that’s what you’ve shared, in many different ways, in different directions; backwards, equivocally.

Abby Sundborn is quiet observer. An active composer, performer, improviser and collaborator within Melbourne’s fertile DIY underground, she equally appreciates time spent on the other side of the stage, attentively listening, imagining and finding beauty in her surroundings. Classically trained but intuitively inclined, Holding Pattern is perhaps the clearest distillation of Sundborn’s musical vision - one that is rooted in intimacy and vulnerability, and pays homage to countless memories both shared and in solitude. A time-dilating piece for cello and voice performed to a small audience, it is fragile music with a deceptive intensity that unravels far beyond the confines of the dimly lit space in which it was performed. The atmosphere is tense and palpable, held in seemingly infinite suspension by small yet deliberate gestures that delicately overlap. It feels decidedly human. Sundborn’s considered bowing and pizzicato are laid bare with little processing or intervention, and the composition at large feels beautifully curious and explorative. Holding Pattern is Sundborn’s first piece that features so prominently her voice. At its apex lies ‘Shed’, a title symbolising the “breaking of habitual patterns” that can lead to one’s life becoming too routine and unconsciously self-destructive. The interplay between her cello and voice is mantric and entrancing, and portrays an emotionally attuned composer with deft sensitivity to space and time. “I knew I wanted to make something that felt warm and focused, but not so much that you can’t get out.” Always self-observational and never rushed, Sundborn seemingly utilises negative space as moments of reflection - her voice a vessel for ascension and grief that drifts slowly into the distance. Sundborn’s work is rigorous yet free-flowing, and has seen light on a diversity of labels, including Altered States, Daisart and Absorb. Holding Pattern is her first appearance on A Colourful Storm, following time shared on stage and in collaboration with Tony Buck (The Necks), Jonnine (HTRK) and Lisa Lerkenfeldt (Shelter Press).

Musique pour 3 Femmes Enceintes (lit. 'Music for 3 Pregnant Women') is a 2005 album by Marc Leclair. The album was conceived while Leclair's wife and several of her friends were simultaneously pregnant. Over the course of the album, each track is labeled according to a point in the pregnancy ("64th Day," "205th Day,") with Leclair's attempts to convey the moods of the experience.

'We Fell In Turn' is the solo debut from Brooklyn-based trombonist, composer, and quartet leader Kalia Vandever. Vandever, who plays with Harry Styles and Japanese Breakfast, “sculpts her trombone’s golden tones into dazzling compositions” (Pitchfork), writing music that tends to “dip you into a feeling or a pattern or a breathing speed, and keep you there” (The New York Times). In 2022, Vandever released Regrowth, an album that “features the ecstatic, brilliant melodies that have become Vandever’s signature sound” (Bandcamp). This spring, Vandever brings contemplative reflection to We Fell in Turn, a brave and understated work from an ascending voice in American jazz. Recorded over three days in upstate New York, 'We Fell In Turn' is improvisational — a stark palate of solo trombone, voice, effects, and little more. “My solo process has always been heavily rooted in improvisation,” says Vandever. “I wanted the process to feel similar to the way I perform. Lee Meadvin, who engineered and produced the album, had a heavy hand in the creative process as well. He would dictate prompts before I started improvising and those pieces ended up shaping a lot of the imagery that comes up throughout the record.” Connecting the dots between Jeff Parker’s 'Forfolks', and early releases from Grouper, 'We Fell In Turn' is a study of space and patience, embracing vulnerability in its sparse adornment. At times, the album is reminiscent of Patrick Shiroishi’s 'Hidemi', both in its familial inspiration and solo instrument study, while sharing the ineffable feel of William Basinski’s 'The Disintegration Loops' — the traces of her trombone folding in on themselves in an organic loop. Emotionally generous throughout, Vandever acts as a torchbearer for jazz’s historical yearning for connection. On 'We Fell in Turn' Vandever draws inspiration from childhood memories — events that shaped her approach to love, community, and partnership, and her maternal homeland of Hawaii. “We were exploring childhood memories, earliest experiences with disappointment and pain, and my Hawaiian roots,” says Vandever. “We Fell In Turn came after I titled the track "We Wept In Turn". Both come from the intangible feeling of waking up from vivid dreams, particularly the experience of falling right before waking up or waking up in tears.” Through this exploration into her heritage, Vandever also found guidance. “In Hawaiian mythology, ‘aumākua are known as ancestral spiritual guides that manifest in different forms, whether physical or intangible,” says Vandever. “My ‘aumākua visits me in my dreams, usually with a reassuring hug or a reminder of my past. Memories and early experiences seem to escape me, but find their way back in dreams.” And now they’ve found their way into 'We Fell in Turn', Kalia Vandever’s stunning solo debut.

With Rhythm Immortal, Carrier — the project of Guy Brewer (formerly of Commix and Shifted) — makes a remarkable full-length debut that expands his intricate rhythmic world into deeper, slower, and more textural terrain.

Since first surfacing with 12”s for FELT and his own label, Carrier has become a touchstone for those drawn to the intersection of precision, space, and pulse. Brewer’s debut album distils the essence of drum & bass, dub techno and electro-acoustic minimalism into eight finely carved movements where every percussive fragment feels alive.

Appearing alongside guest collaborators Voice Actor and Memotone, Brewer navigates between noirish ambience and tightly coiled rhythmic design — from the hovering tension of ‘Offshore’ to the hypnotic sway of ‘A Point Most Crucial’. Tracks such as ‘Outer Shell’ and ‘Wave After Wave’ balance heady abstraction with physical propulsion, creating a sound equally suited to introspection or motion.

Previewed at Berlin Atonal 2025, Rhythm Immortal confirms Carrier as a singular voice in modern electronic music — a producer devoted to rhythm as both structure and spirit.

RIYL: Photek, Rhythm & Sound, Torsten Pröfrock, Burial.