MUSIC

Different Rooms is a collection of songs and musical motifs we composed, edited, and collaged in the weeks between late 2024 and early 2025. Most of the recorded material was performed during that editing process, except for live performances taken from improvisations we recorded with Jeff Parker and Josh Johnson some time in 2023.

In our typical process, much of our material is collaged and combines moments of live improvisation, field recordings, and in-studio experimentation. This record, however, marks an evolution in our approach to studio production.

Our studios are side-by-side. When we were writing this album, you might have found us tracking viola stacks in one studio while, in the other, we were writing through-composed themes and rearranging the material. Granular synthesis and tape manipulation are key tools we use to create variation and movement in a composition. This process often yields surprising results, capturing the emotion but expressing it in unexpected ways. It feels essential that we embrace a bit of chance.

In contrast to our first album, Recordings from the Åland Islands, we wanted this music to feel very present. Where Recordings was intended to transport you to another place, Different Rooms is meant to meet you where you are. It’s a decidedly urban album. The field recordings were captured on train platforms, in city streets, in rooms at home, and intentionally paint a quotidian sonic image, blurring the line between what you hear in your own environment and what is on the record.

The song cycle is set in palindromic sequence, figuratively, with certain pieces (reflected) by a reprised or recurring motif that is often reimagined with new instrumentation.

The sonic and temporal abstraction between what is performed in real-time versus what is recorded, manipulated, and collaged reinforces our intent to collect the works under the title Different Rooms, which literally expresses the way the material was recorded in different rooms while reminding us that our shared experience of present time is also one that is asynchronous, historied, and complex.

Ambre Ciel is a composer and singer who hails from Montreal, Canada and is a purveyor of dreamy, expansive, spacious music that draws influence from contemporary classical influenced artists, as well as the impressionist world and American minimalists.

Ambre who sings in both English and her native French, hails from a family of singers and artists, “I started my journey learning violin at six and began experimenting with pedal effects and looping melodies later on”. University followed with a focus on composition and recording. “That’s when I started exploring composing and songwriting more deeply—both the world of sounds in itself and songs built mostly with layers of violin and voice. It was also during this time that I returned to my ‘first’ instrument, the piano, which opened more harmonic possibilities.”

Her debut album still, there is the sea, represents a beginning, a first and imperfect attempt to create this other world that was living in her mind. She has crafted a beautifully refined album making a lot of space for strings arrangements and other acoustic instruments, as well as her own beautiful voice.

An Obscure Sound Documentary from Sado Island — A Compilation Capturing the Present Through 10 Artists Living Within Its Environment

Sado Island, located in the Sea of Japan, is a place where ancient traditions continue to thrive amidst rich natural landscapes. Noh stages still remain across local villages, and practices such as Noh theater and Ondeko drumming are woven into the daily lives of its residents. Surrounded by sea and mountains, the island offers a unique cultural and environmental context for contemporary creativity to emerge. This compilation album, produced in 2025, serves as a sonic documentary capturing the music and people of Sado as they exist today. While rooted in the island’s deep cultural heritage, the album also presents a fresh wave of expression and imagination, offering new perspectives shaped by place, tradition, and personal vision. The album features ten creative units, each contributing original works that reflect the atmosphere and rhythms of life on the island. Included are solo pieces by Yuta Sumiyoshi and Masayasu Maeda, both key members of Kodo—the internationally acclaimed taiko performing arts ensemble known for transcending tradition through innovation. Sadrum brings a raw, organic groove through the use of handmade bamboo drums, crafted from moso bamboo that grows naturally on Sado. Composer Nozomu Sato presents his project Plantar, which showcases a wide-ranging musical language from pop to the avant-garde. Gilles Stassart, a chef and artist who runs the Sado-based restaurant La Pagode, explores the fusion of gastronomy and art in his contribution. Charles Munka, a comtemporary artist recognized for turning scribbled notes from around the world into abstract artworks, offers an ambient mix inspired by the spirit of Noh. Contemporary artist Morito Yoshida, a central figure in the Sado Island Galaxy Art Festival, contributes a piece reflecting his pioneering vision across art and community. Kota Aoki, known for his experimental paintings and sound works, adds a composition grounded in a personal and deeply aesthetic approach. Miyuki Fukunishi, active in music since the 1990s, explores new possibilities in composition through laptop-based production techniques. The album also features The Fugu Plan?, a collaborative unit led by ukulele player Yuka and bassist Shanir Ezra Blumenkranz, whose work is widely recognized through his association with John Zorn’s Tzadik label. Their piece brings a cross-cultural resonance that connects Sado to a broader global soundscape. Beyond the music, the project is also deeply rooted in the island. The album cover features NAMI (“wave”), a photograph by Syoin Kajii—a Sado-based photographer and Buddhist monk—capturing the living rhythm of the sea. The liner notes are written by Noi Sawaragi, an influential art critic and advisor to the Sado Island Galaxy Art Festival, adding critical depth to the project’s cultural context. A work that captures the very essence of Sado’s present—every element of the album has been created by individuals uniquely connected to the island.

Belia Winnewisser and Fatuma Osman have known each other since childhood, a friendship rooted in shared afternoons of music and late 90s/early 00s girl core. Their first joint debut EP Vertex, released through the Swiss label Light of Other Days, emerges as both a continuation of that bond and an exploration of process, weaving together collective memories with their present-day musical language. Resisting polished closure, the record circles around the idea of limerence in sound: suggesting rather than declaring, outlining atmospheres that leave room for the listener’s imagination to fill out the blanks. Across its five tracks Belia and Fatuma oscillate between the personal and the universal, immediacy and nostalgia. The opening track Emerald rises like morning light; fragile, blissful, and quietly radiant. Covering Madonna’s 80s single Angel feels natural and slots seamlessly into the EP’s arc: as a defining pop presence of the last four decades, she embodies less an idol than a subtle compass. Surrender, the first track on the B-side, draws you into the club, vibrating between vulnerability and release. Each step extends their vision further, revealing a cohesive body of work. Vertex holds opposite poles in tension, creating a space where vulnerability and intensity create dialog. What lingers is a realm of possibilities: a conversation between two friends and collaborators who understand that sound can be as much about what is left out as about what is expressed. Vertex documents their progression, marking a milestone without concluding it.

In late 2024, Oakland-based artist Jerod S. Rivera released his second full-length project, Dot-Dash, featuring a collaboration with Cat Lauigan on the track “Seamstress Clock,” which fuses Rivera’s Buchla experimentations with Lauigan’s vocals and spoken word. From there, Rivera and CST reached out to friends across different scenes and cities, shaping those connections into a carefully curated remix 12”.

The mysterious dub/techno/leftfield mastermind behind False Aralia dives further into territory explored on iri.gram, uptempo and dancefloor-ready in a more maximal Perlon-ish way while still embracing a half-time dub feel. Philipp Otterbach (Music from Memory, Offen, RIO) goes deeper into the guitar zone he’s been exploring, channeling Earth 2, Boris, and the like for some heavy drone. Oakland duo DJ ML and Wonja adopt their Motoko & Myers moniker (Future Times, Soda Gong), zeroing in on some choice vocal snippets that mesh perfectly with a live drum break and bassline for a Seefeel-esque version that could have come from a 90’s UK studio. Slowfoam embraces the more experimental elements of the original with a remix that starts sparse and minimal but builds into a glitchy rhythmic climax. The release is rounded out with a bonus remix from Jon Carr, unleashing heavy, industrial-sludge rhythms.

Romeo’s Fall is an original score for voice by artist and composer EXLRUTH, a new work traversing romance and romanticism in a post-industrial North East England. Performed by countertenor Nik Rawlings with accompanying double bass from Caius Williams.

Informed by congregation, community and euphoria, exploring the meeting points of contemporary dance music cultures, traditional hymnal form, and the sonic appropriation and influence of regional industry, influenced by the legacy of the New Monkey. Addressing alternative trajectories of communion; on dancefloors (Makina) versus the nuclear act of togetherness within an industrial Northern landscape (classical/hymnal form).

This book features images taken from recently developed family super8, taken in and around Sunderland - 1960's onwards.

Six Pianos is a minimalist piece for six pianos by the American composer Steve Reich. It was completed in March 1973. Music for Mallet Instruments, Voices and Organ – again – emerged in the same year. The piece is scored for glockenspiels, marimbas, metallophone (vibraphone without resonator fans), women's voices and organ. The piece is in four sections, played without a break, marked off by changes in key and meter.

“Things fade into obscurity when a populace has no interest” - Meitei / 冥丁

Meitei considers himself an old soul, often preoccupied with the customs and rituals of the past. Recently Meitei lost his beloved 99-year-old grandmother, a woman who he considered to be one of the last remaining people to have experience and understanding of traditional Japanese ambience. His music and art is driven by a desire to cast light on an era and aesthetic that he believes is drifting out of the collective Japanese consciousness with each passing generation, what he calls "the lost Japanese mood". He chose to dedicate Komachi to his late Grandmother.

“I want to revive the soul of Japan that still sleeps in the darkness” - Meitei / 冥丁

Haunting and delicate, distant and timeless, Komachi is awash with white noise, complex field recordings and the hypnotic sounds of flowing water. Though confidently contemporary, like a bucolic J-Dilla, Komachi’s lineage can be traced back to the floating worlds of Ukiyo-e and Gagaku via the prism of 80s Japanese ambient pioneers, and 90s pastoral sample-based artists such as Susumu Yokota and Nobukazu Takemura.

Composed as individual sonic dioramas, each of the twelve tracks have been crafted to not only evoke feelings of nostalgia but to also explore the dichotomy of ancient and new in modern Japanese society. This pervasive narrative runs throughout, calling to mind the work of authors Yasunari Kawabata and Natsume Soseki, as well as the films of Yasujirō Ozu and Hayao Miyazaki, artists similarly fascinated by the reflective tranquillity that permeated traditional Japanese domestic life.

The limited vinyl release, produced in collaboration with label and distributor Séance Centre, includes a super limited special edition complete with beautiful twelve-page booklet featuring a number of prints in the Ukiyo-e style, a traditional style of woodblock print that dates back to 17th century Japan. The images were chosen by Meitei to showcase the old style Japanese sentiments that form a core inspiration to his musical output. 
 

The Kiyosato Museum of Contemporary Art was located in Kiyosato, Yamanashi prefecture from 1990 to 2014. It was a private art museum with a permanent exhibit based on a collection of unrivalled scale. The museum also collected and mounted exhibitions on the work of radical contemporary composers, including John Cage. The museum’s primary informant on music was sound designer Yutaka Hirose, one of the pioneers of Japan’s environmental music (kankyō ongaku) movement in the 1980s.

In 1992, the museum mounted a John Cage Memorial exhibition, and this release showcases Hirose’s work on the overall exhibition design and the creation of the sounds that were played in the museum during the exhibition, through a re-edit and reissue of the sound materials.

The sound materials that Hirose created for the exhibition environment were only ever distributed on CDr to members of the curatorial team so this is their first formal release. Hirose’s work for the exhibition was radical in its use of musique concrète and collages of noise and everyday sounds, and in his homage to Cage’s methods, these pieces represent a distinct departure from his normal approach at the time.

The A4 booklet includes texts about the exhibition by members of the team, Hirose’s own description of the pieces, and photographs of the exhibition. (Text in Japanese and English).

The Kiyosato Museum of Contemporary Art was located in Kiyosato, Yamanashi prefecture from 1990 to 2014. It was a private art museum with a permanent exhibit based on a collection of unrivalled scale. The museum also collected and mounted exhibitions on the work of radical contemporary composers, including John Cage. The museum’s primary informant on music was sound designer Yutaka Hirose, one of the pioneers of Japan’s environmental music (kankyō ongaku) movement in the 1980s.

In 1992, the museum mounted a John Cage Memorial exhibition, and this release showcases Hirose’s work on the overall exhibition design and the creation of the sounds that were played in the museum during the exhibition, through a re-edit and reissue of the sound materials.

The sound materials that Hirose created for the exhibition environment were only ever distributed on CDr to members of the curatorial team so this is their first formal release. Hirose’s work for the exhibition was radical in its use of musique concrète and collages of noise and everyday sounds, and in his homage to Cage’s methods, these pieces represent a distinct departure from his normal approach at the time.

The A4 booklet includes texts about the exhibition by members of the team, Hirose’s own description of the pieces, and photographs of the exhibition. (Text in Japanese and English).

The inimitable Richard Youngs returns to Black Truffle with this third full-length for the label, Hidden. Like CXXI and Modern Sorrow, Hidden unfolds across two side-long pieces at once eminently listenable and possessed of the ‘bloody-minded’ dedication to ‘having an idea and sticking with it’ that Youngs himself has identified as one of the key qualities of his work.

At the core of both pieces are rapid, randomised arpeggios generated with a Moog Grandmother, hypnotic patterns that wouldn’t be out of place on a Berlin School classic. Alongside these arpeggios, across the seventeen minutes of the first side-long piece Youngs builds an airy structure of shakers, synthetic handclaps and a brief, repeated sample, impossible to identify but sounding like a glitched foghorn. Over the top we hear his unmistakable voice, repeating single syllables—Ha, Ho—with a slow delay, something like a lonely one-man-band take on Anthony Moore’s Pieces from the Cloudland Ballroom or a more musical elaboration of the hypnotically overlapping delayed phonemes of Anton Bruhin’s Rotomotor. Like much of Youngs' work, the arrangement of sounds is sparse, each layer punctuated by spaces that allow others to shine through, in a way that seems to have more to do with dub or early hip-hop than high-brow models of musical reductionism.

On the flipside, the arpeggios return, now accompanied by ringing, filtered guitar chords and long flute tones. The use of a similar ground layer across the two pieces with strikingly different overdubs calls up Youngs' first solo record, the classic Advent, reminding us of how consistent ‘theme and variations’ is as an approach in his enormous body of work. Joined by handclaps and a chiming sound, the piece almost feels like it is about to achieve dance-floor lift-off at times, only for the percussion to disappear and leave the listener once again floating among the guitar and flute, now joined by occasional cut-off vocal snippets, like a radio turned quickly on and off. The suspension of these disparate elements over the steady foundation of the Moog arpeggios might remind some listeners of the free-form studio explorations of Moebius & Plank and Holger Czukay or even give a nod to Youngs’ formative encounter with Cabaret Voltaire.

Like some of Youngs’ much-loved work with Simon Wickham-Smith, Hidden approaches relatively familiar sounds and instruments from skewed angles, delighting in loose structures of interaction that border on gleeful incoherence while remaining outwardly beautiful. Coming up to almost four decades of persistent activity, like little else in contemporary music Youngs’ work beams with the simple joys of exploration and experiment.



Kompakt is proud to announce, finally, a reissue of the first, self-titled GAS album. Originally released on electronica imprint Mille Plateaux back in 1996, it’s been unavailable in its original form ever since – the version of GAS included in 2008’s Nah Und Fern box featured several different tracks. Here, however, GAS is restored in all its glory, the debut full-length from Wolfgang Voigt’s most enigmatic, quixotic project. There had, of course, been signs of what was to come. Back in 1995, Voigt essayed the first GAS release, a slender, yet remarkable four-track EP, Modern. Its centre label featured a reduced symbol – an overhead or lamp light, switched on, its glow radiating outwards in four bold black lines – a perfect representation of the tight, stylised ambient electronic pop contained on that 12”. A few curious compilation tracks were floating around, too, for Mille Plateaux’s Modulation & Transformation and Electric Ladyland series. If you were attentive enough, you could tell something was up. But nothing quite prepared us for the languorous, effervescing loops and regular-like-clockwork beats that Voigt folded together on GAS. Its six long tracks, all untitled, neither begin nor end but hazily fade into earshot, vibrate majestically in your cochlea for fifteen-or-so minutes – some a bit shorter, some longer – and then meander away, reading the mise-en-scène for the next example of Voigt’s drift and dream logic to unfold. The material is referential in the most distant way, and you can sense only the most evanescent of ghostly presences, haunting these six compositions. GAS feels, also, like a more pliable hint at what’s to come, as the GAS concept really solidified on its successor, 1997’s Zauberberg, and reach its apotheosis on Königsforst and Pop. Those three albums share a very similar palette – blurred, hazy samples, often of classical music, stacked and cross-thatched across a muted 4/4 thud. GAS, then, is an outlier of sorts: it’s more expansive in its remit, lighter in its mood, perhaps more fleet of foot. This, of course, is part of its charm. In clearing space for Voigt, by preparing the terrain, GAS sits both at the edge of the forest, and at the verge of an expansive, wide-eyed future; one where GAS would become truly eternal.

In my mailbox: "Good day info, the conquer solidity static status gigolo. 2 caves dungeons song. pitch fungus vim, 14 triplets listlessness. celluloid advisor applying. season globe Italy, switch-off amphitheatre 42 updraught. The popularity buddha languish fifth mockery. holder condensate minima. the tutorial verifized (and rinse). 14 appetence concept’s. dullness captived cockerel. With good wishes, Dr. Fatimaiy Oakley" Social Engineering brings together thirteen text fragments from so-called phishing emails. Using speech synthesis, they are spoken, sung, and/or transformed into abstract textures. The result is a 36-minute language and sound collage devoted to the dark forces of phishing

One of the most notorious hatemongers in movie history is Captain Ahab from John Huston’s 1956 classic Moby Dick. His manic monologues cast a spell on generations of viewers. Berlin based musician and sound artist Jan Jelinek has now turned the voice of Ahab into a musical instrument. 

Faitiche presents Jan Jelinek's soundtrack for SEASCAPE – polyptych, an audio-visual software developed in collaboration with Canadian new media artist Clive Holden in 2022. SEASCAPE – polyptych is based on image and acoustic source material from Moby Dick. While Holden works on manipulating film sequences, the voice of Ahab plays a central role in Jan Jelinek’s soundtrack. The dynamic volume and tone of the captain's speech control a synthesizer system that turns Ahab's voice into ten abstract soundscapes.

In this production the voice gives the impulse and controls things but is not the sound of spoken word itself that we hear. Only occasionally can snippets of speech be heard so that syllables or sounds are recognisable. Instead we hear compositions made of hissing, soundscapes and eruptive sounds. The atmosphere is dark and sinister. Still every piece has a clear sonic structure and follows an understandable dramatic composition. This music is abstract but not overwhelming. Quite the opposite, SEASCAPE – polyptych is an invitation to listeners to let themselves be carried by the stream of sonic events. Although part of a media art work, the soundtrack can be enjoyed without any of this connecting superstructure. It works with no previous knowledge. But what happens when one does know that it’s the sonic waves of a human voice that is controlling a network of synthesizers?

If you want to hear Ahab, you will hear a choir of Ahabs in every piece of sound. The subliminal threatening as well as the conjuring Ahab. Finally the Ahab who whips up his crew and tears them with him into their downfall. The majestic „on the quay now, waiting and watching“, the oppressive “drawn towards the whirlpools center” - they are all music as well as sonic discourse.

Jan Jelinek and Copehagen-based composer Mads Emil Nielsen trade remixes on this one, with Jelinek stretching 'Framework 10' into a ghosted early electronic hallucination, and Nielsen matching Jelinek's 'Zwischen' collage with modular blips and drones.

Originally released in 2019 on the CRXSSINGS fundraiser compilation, these two tracks were too good to let languish in digital-only obscurity. Now pressed to 7" and packaged with Nielsen's graphic score, it's a great reminder how impressive this pair of reworks actually were. Jelinek's version of 'Framework 10' bumps Nielsen's two minute original up to seven minutes, fatting its austere modular belches with kinked sine moans, saturated brassy punctuations and sub-aquatic exotica FX. And Nielsen's take on Jelinek's brief Marcel Duchamp collage - if you remember, Jelinek stitched the silences between speech in interviews into short negative space extractions - adds drama to the original, supplementing the pregnant pauses with white noise bursts and modular squiggles.

Originally from Sicily but living in Basel, electronic composer Marco Papiro confirms his eccentric and multifaceted personality. The sound articulation of his analog synthesizers flows into in an artificial hyperrealism of great thematic and expressive variation. The tracks unfold between ascending cosmic moments, more ecstatic meditative tones, symphonic planetary floods, exotic afrodelic and psycho-andean drifts. Papiro synthesises and converts echoes of acoustic wind instruments (oboe, recorders, bamboo flute), while the percussion lives on its own pulsating reality. The influence of certain folk traditions, as well as contemporary music, also suggests the more acoustic flavor of an ethereal minimalism (for voice and psaltery), making his music a continuous open sea of visions. Cover painting by Anton Bruhin printed on two different colored papers. Co-released with Les Giants.

At the end of the 1980s, Mariolina Zitta approached the world of natural sounds, studying musicology and developing a passion for speleology. Her encounter with Walter Maioli was fundamental, guiding and influencing her definitive research into sound archaeology and the primitive sources of musical acoustic phenomena. In these recordings Mariolina conducts a magical ritual as a cave priestess, celebrating the icons par excellence of the mysteries of the night: bats. The specific frequencies of the calls of these fascinating creatures are recorded with special detectors used by ecologists, the result is an organic synthesizer. The fusion with the sounds of natural objects (stones, stalactites, logs, bone whistles, Tibetan bells, mouth bows, trumpet shells) and the vocal modulations of harmonic singing allow us to travel into a still unexplored sound dimension, through an evocative experience of total sensory listening. It is an arcane landscape filled with pure vibrations, magnetic resonances and aquatic sounds; an ancestral enchantment on the border between consciousness and dreams, a symbolic liturgy of primordial reverberations, echoes and whistles. Edition of 200 copies.

This hour-long ensemble piece from 2024, recorded in Stockholm, marks the twelfth album by Swedish composer Magnus Granberg on Another Timbre. Granberg, born in Umeå in 1974, studied saxophone and improvisation at the University of Gothenburg and in New York, but is self-taught as a composer. He formed his ensemble Skogen in 2005 to integrate experiences, methods and materials from various traditions of improvised and composed musics into a new modus operandi. Apart from his ongoing work with Skogen and other ensembles, he has increasingly been writing music on commission for musicians like Nate Wooley, andPlay, Apartment House, Ordinary Affects, a.pe.ri.od.ic, Insub Meta Orchestra and Dramaten, and has collaborated regularly with Toshimaru Nakamura, Ko Ishikawa, Rhodri Davies, Angharad Davies and Jürg Frey.

The Willow Bends and So Do I was written in spring 2024 and consists of four large pools of materials ordered into ten cycles of approximately six minutes each. As Granberg explains: "Each pool consists of individual sounds, a number of short phrases (each containing two to seven different sounds) as well as an eighteen bar melody in slightly shifting meters from which the performers can choose what and when to play in accordance with a set of guidelines which accompany the individual parts." The phrases are derived from tiny rhythmic modules in simple note values and their augmentations and diminutions, while "the tonal materials all are derived from a few bars from a song by American jazz and film music composer Johnny Mandel called 'A Time for Love', from which the piece also borrows its title."

Granberg first heard the song in his mid-teens on Alone, a solo piano album by jazz pianist Bill Evans recorded in the late 1960s, which was one of the very first CDs he bought in the late eighties. True to his compositional method, Granberg uses other music as inspiration for his own without copying other composers' work—the sources of inspiration are not at all obvious in the finished piece. There is actually more raw material that he wrote at the time but didn't use for this piece, intending it for what might eventually become a small family of pieces for various settings and ensembles.

This particular version of Skogen is all Swedish, featuring longtime members alongside relative newcomers. The nonet includes Anna Lindal (violin), Eva Lindal (violin—Anna's sister), Leo Svensson Sander (cello), Finn Loxbo (acoustic steel string guitar), Stina Hellberg Agback (harp), Magnus Granberg (prepared piano), Erik Carlsson (percussion), Henrik Olsson (objects, contact microphones, thumb piano), and Petter Wästberg (contact microphone, mixing board, loudspeaker).

As Granberg notes: "I think the main reason for writing for this comparatively large ensemble was quite simply that I wanted to gather all the Swedish friends and members of the ensemble, including those players who started to play with Skogen during the pandemic... with the addition of guitarist Finn Loxbo whom we and I also had worked with on a couple of different occasions lately. But it's of course also a question of really enjoying writing for and playing with a relatively large ensemble of this kind, of being part of a musical environment consisting of so many different voices, movements, timbres and temperaments and the particular sense of fulfilment which it brings."

Eva Lindal and Stina Hellberg Agback have been playing with Skogen since the pandemic—both appeared on How Lonely Sits the City? (2021)—and are "such great and versatile musicians with experiences from so many different fields of music, including early and new music as well as improvised and experimental musics of various kinds." Guitarist Finn Loxbo first worked with Granberg on the double album Night Will Fade and Fall Apart (Thanatosis, 2022), and also joined Skogen for the music Granberg wrote for director Karl Dunér's production of The Persians and The Women of Troy at the Royal Dramatic Theater in Stockholm in 2023. As Granberg says: "Finn is a wonderful and very exciting musician (for example with his brilliant ensemble Kommun) whose playing I have admired for a number of years, so I'm very happy to have him with us."

As one reviewer notes, with Granberg's compositions "no further information is necessary to know that this album will provide many hours of listening pleasure."

Mika Vainio started making a new Ø album in 2014. He almost finalized the record before his too early passing in 2017. The album Sysivalo is the 9th out of 8 full scale albums, released under the Ø alias by Vainio. Ø was his longest running project from 1993 to 2017. Sysivalo was recorded during 2014-2017 and is 60 min long album with 20 tracks, produced by Vainio. He described the record as a distinct Ø album that was going to include several shorter tracks, etudes. The title, Sysivalo, is invented by Vainio by combining the Finnish words sysi (dark or sinister) and valo (light).

Like life itself, the album carries a quiet darkness - honest and full of hidden light. The many of the tracks are beatless subtle soundtracks of eclipsed emotions. Like an incapacitated creature waiting for something to happen.

The closing track Loputon (Endless) is maybe the most beautiful tracks Vainio has ever written, Vainio's last word.

Mika Vainio started making a new Ø album in 2014. He almost finalized the record before his too early passing in 2017. The album Sysivalo is the 9th out of 8 full scale albums, released under the Ø alias by Vainio. Ø was his longest running project from 1993 to 2017. Sysivalo was recorded during 2014-2017 and is 60 min long album with 20 tracks, produced by Vainio. He described the record as a distinct Ø album that was going to include several shorter tracks, etudes. The title, Sysivalo, is invented by Vainio by combining the Finnish words sysi (dark or sinister) and valo (light). Like life itself, the album carries a quiet darkness - honest and full of hidden light. The many of the tracks are beatless subtle soundtracks of eclipsed emotions. Like an incapacitated creature waiting for something to happen. The closing track Loputon (Endless) is maybe the most beautiful tracks Vainio has ever written, Vainio's last word.

Music From Memory is excited to introduce ‘Total Blue’, the Los Angeles-based trio of Nicky Benedek, Alex Talan, and Anthony Calonico. Despite collaborating for over a decade, ‘Total Blue’ represents a new chapter in their artistic journey together as a trio. Embracing chance, inviting the unknown, and guided by a spirit of sheer play and exploration, ‘Total Blue’ was driven by a desire to ‘touch the beyond’ in pursuit of an elusive vibe the three had been chasing for years. Alex, Nick, and Anthony envision ‘Total Blue’ as the all-encompassing full picture, a place where the real and the imaginary begin to blur; a destination reached not through escapism but by expanding one's perspective; a widened scope of vision where personality both shines and disintegrates. Across the album, their mission statement is expertly achieved with subtlety and delicate human touch; painting with a lush palette of digital synths, Akai EVI wind synthesizer, fretless bass, and guitar, the trio masterfully balance texture and color, evoking wide expansive vistas that stretch from Los Angeles right out to the furthest reaches of sky and sea. This is ‘Total Blue’ - a place of time and timelessness where echoes of history and tradition merge with rootless inhuman sonics. MFM071 will be released as 1xLP on vinyl and in digital format on July 19th 2024. Art and design by Michael Willis.

"The idea for Homestead came in 2023 during my time as Artist in Residence at Homestead National Historical Park in Beatrice, Nebraska, in whose archives I found the materials referenced in the titles of the movements, as well as the images on this album. As a fifth-generation Nebraskan, growing up on the native lands of the Chatiks si chatiks people (Pawnee), this project is a part of my process of learning, listening, and developing a relationship with the land and its stewards in my home state: a beautiful place with a rich history that is as much a part of me as it is part of the settler-colonial project of displacement and genocide through the Homestead Acts". Kory Reeder, March 2025

The images on the cover were kindly provided by the Homestead National Historical Park from the Reynolds family archive.

Muto Infinitas (2016/18) is an hour-long duo for quartertone bass flute and double bass, composed by the US-born Catherine Lamb, who is now resident in Berlin. It was recorded by Adama Asnan at Andreaskirche, Berlin Wannsee in 2019.

Cover artwork by Rebecca Lane

For the last decade, Irish-Japanese artist ermhoi has been steadily refining her distinct musical signature, a sound that's rooted in electronic music's relative open mindedness, but takes just as much influence from classical music, ambient and pop. 'In-Between' is her most ambitious endeavor to date, a billowing electroacoustic soundtrack that balances its noisy backdrop of glitches, digital textures and syrupy synths with the splendor of a string ensemble (made up of violinists Yuri Kamei and Tomohiro Ishii, viola player Mei Mishina, cellist Sonoko Muraoka and contrabass player Marty Holoubek) and the rhythmelodic impetus of acclaimed multi-instrumentalist Taikimen's marimba sequences.The album materialized after ermhoi was commissioned to compose a track for a video work presented at the Japan Pavilion of the International Architecture Exhibition of the Venice Biennale in 2025. And when the work traveled home earlier this year for a presentation at Kyoto City's KYOCERA Museum of Art, ermhoi reconstructed her original score, reconsidering the cues to provide a fully developed album that could exist in its own universe. It's the culmination of years of experience that ermhoi has accumulated over the years, working as a composer for film, television and installation art and as a live performer as well as developing her acclaimed solo full-lengths Her first album, 'Junior Refugee', was released in 2015 and since then ermhoi has worked outside of genre's rigid borders, blending her wide spectrum of influences on records like 2021's 'Dream Land' and 2024's 'Junebug Rhapsody', when she revisited the ideas approached on her debut. On 'In-Between', she surveys all of this work, carefully and intricately weaving her gentle electronic processes through sophisticated orchestral arrangements. Her soundscape comes to life on the ambiguous 'Paradise?', when restrained environmental elements and pitch-mangled synths are juxtaposed with pristine string flourishes. And that unexpected fusion continues to surprise on 'Outside', with its romantic, sweeping phrases and deceptively jazzy bass plucks.The climate shifts significantly on 'Why do humans occupy land?' when ermhoi introduces rougher, more digital sounds into her backdrop of evocative drones and the album reaches its celestial apex on 'Inside', seemingly referencing Japan's influential "kankyō ongaku" scene with its malleable processed marimba's. But ermhoi refuses to chain herself to a single expression for more than moments, sailing into choppier waters on the precarious 'Rotation' and letting each musical thread knot into a perfect chamber pop tapestry on the impressively dense title track. It's a track that contextualizes the entire album, showing in a matter of minutes just why she's been so in demand.

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytum comosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.
The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’s new renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

-Andy Beta