MUSIC

Following releases on Sähkö Recordings and The Trilogy Tapes, "Fever of the World" is the Soda Gong debut by Memotone, the nom de plume of UK-based multi-instrumentalist Will Yates. As a collection, it is both intimate and expansive, like the feeling of gathering one's thoughts before setting off on a long journey or committing to an irrevocable course of action. Throughout, Yates' talents as both player and sound designer are on full display, as are the sonic signatures that have come to characterize the Memotone catalog: low-lit, ECM-inflected noir; evasive and evolving loop-based accretions; and mellifluous mosaics of keys, guitar, reeds, and percussion. It is patient and focused music, built around production techniques and compositional ideas that have been perfected both in studio and in live performance over a period of several years. "Catherine, On Fire" sets the scene, one of two languid, longform selections, and develops slowly from a spare, harmonic-laden guitar loop into a bed of rippling textural ambience and woozy clarinet filigree. Later, "The Bus" and "When the Bakery Has What You Want and It's Cheap" conjure images of rain-streaked windows, fanciful baked confections, and grey skies broken finally by sunlight. Warm, generous, and comfortable in its own skin, this is music that reminds us that when it feels easy to resign ourselves to world weariness, we should pause for a moment and listen to the rustle of the leaves. The wind knows not to linger.

It is with great pride Miasmah announces the posthumous release of this double album of the final work by experimental composer Marcus Fjellström, titled The Last Sunset of the Year. Collected by Marcus’ friends and colleagues Erik K. Skodvin and Dave Kajganich, this release brings together music written and produced during Marcus’ tenure as composer for the first season of the AMC anthology series The Terror, which told the story of the doomed 1845 Franklin Expedition to find the Northwest Passage. That said, THE LAST SUNSET OF THE YEAR is, by design, not a soundtrack to the show. Dave Kajganich writes in the album’s liner notes: “Some of the pieces will be familiar to those who know The Terror (though in some cases in different forms), but many other pieces are being made available here for the first time. The selected pieces have a unity unto themselves, and we feel strongly that this release should be taken not as a companion to the show, but as Marcus Fjellström ’s final album, on its own terms. We’ve presented these pieces without titles, except for titling the four movements of the journey they suggest. It is a journey that evokes the mystery, grandeur, and desolation of the Arctic, and articulates the spiritual and existential implications of traveling there. In many ways, THE LAST SUNSET OF THE YEAR goes further, and deeper, than the show ever could, presenting a remarkable sonic line from contented exploration, to staggering decline, to death—and even to a final vista beyond death.” Kajganich reached out to begin discussing the idea of this release with Skodvin, back in 2017, after Marcus’ death, but before the series had premiered. In the years since, Dave and Erik have Zoomed and emailed back and forth hundreds of times, studying all seventy-five of the pieces Marcus wrote for the show in all their forms (as many as six or seven versions to a piece), to winnow down a final list of pieces to include. The most difficult phase of the process, Kajganich reveals in the notes, was understanding the best way to sequence the tracks. It required listening to many different track orders and paying close attention to how each order created a slightly different identity for the album through their specific juxtapositions and dynamics. “In a way I can’t fully articulate, it was very much as though Erik and I were having a final, deeply felt and joyous conversation with Marcus himself about the interior lives of these pieces,” Kajganich says. The album’s title comes from a moment in the show when a group of Victorian sailors who are trapped in winter pack ice, suffering dwindling psychological resources and supplies, stand on the deck of one of the doomed ships to watch the sun rise above the horizon for a moment, and then immediately set in the last sunset of the year before six weeks of darkness, an event which, even through the lens of their inevitable coming losses, could still be viewed as something astonishing and beautiful. None of those men could know, nor can we, what waits for us across the line of death, but in The Last Sunset of the Year, Marcus seems to have had a notion.

Mark Templeton is a Canadian media artist and the founder of Graphical, an audiovisual label dedicated to publishing his own musical and image based experiments. Mark’s audio compositions are constructed from reel-to-reel tape loops and sampled cassettes that are contrasted with contemporary sound techniques. In his published photobooks, he incorporates his own 35mm pictures and found images, focusing on intangible fantasies and realities. During his audiovisual performances, he utilizes digital instruments while projecting his own photographs, VHS footage, Super 8 film, and other sampled video. 

Mark Templeton’s reinterpretation of outdated media as musical instruments makes him a compelling artist for the Faitiche label roster. For his debut on Faitiche, he browsed his old hard drives and invited Andrew Pekler to listen through and co-produce a selection of Mark’s unreleased works. The compositions act as a series of snapshots: a look back at a decade of archived sounds, re-envisioned and re-imaged for Faitiche.

 The album contains nine tracks that follow an AB song structure. Each piece begins with verse A, transitions into verse B, and then ends. This simple formula creates a dichotomy that is also present in Mark’s diptych photographs, featured in the artwork. Throughout the album, both juxtaposition and inherent connections are simultaneously at play. One way or another, Two Verses provides a beginner’s guide to Mark Templeton's highly idiosyncratic catalog.

“How to begin? No beginning... never ending reverberation,” Antoine Beuger writes in the accompanying notes to Leo Svirsky’s River Without Banks. Dedicated to his first piano teacher Irena Orlov, River Without Banks is a mesmerizing, emotional collection of pieces that are simultaneously complex and fluid. The title River Without Banks comes from a chapter of musicologist Genrikh “Henry” Orlov’s profound work Tree of Music. In said chapter, Orlov traces the history of sacred music from the Western and Eastern tradition and how the forms (of the chant, raga etc.) sought to eliminate the division between the physical and the spiritual--the bank and the river.

Arranged for two pianos with accompaniment from strings, trumpet, and electronics, this is Svirsky’s first piece to approach the history of the piano and the possibilities of the recording studio, and his deepest dive yet into exploring the instability of listening and its transformation of musical semantics and affect. Like Wolfgang Voigt’s Gas project, Svirsky overlays romantic musical gestures to create a lush unfamiliarity. No sooner than each track begins the next moment unfurls beneath it, cascading time and blurring perception of past and present.

Akin to a multidimensional Rzewski thematic interpretation, Svirsky’s music defies genre-classification or classical ideology while its virtuosity clearly stems from somewhere from within disciplined traditions. Continuously revisiting, revising, and renewing its emotional core, River Without Banks is less an album of songs than songs of a singular, unlocatable album. Performed by the composer with assistance from Britton Powell, Max Eilbacher, Leila Bordreuil, Tim Byrnes, and recorded by Al Carlson.

Time and duration are core themes in the work of both William Basinski and Janek Schaefer, and this long-distance collaboration took a suitably long gestation of eight years from start to finish. In that time, our collective perception of time has at times become disorienting. “ . . . on reflection ” remodels that instability as an exquisite work of art – one that is unmoored by time or space. Limitation breeds creativity, revealed as an expression of minimalism and close focus. Deploying a delicate piano passage from their collective archive, Basinski and Schaefer weave and reweave in numerous ways, forging an iridescent flurry of flickering melodies. The sounds of various birds heard from late night windows on tour can occasionally be heard throughout, ricocheting off mirrored facades, reflecting on themselves as they continually reshape their own environments with song. “ . . . on reflection ” looks backwards, a bustling revelry of positive emotions heard through the aging mirrors of memory. It is a celebratory meditation where sound shimmers through time like the light of the sea’s waves glistening as it folds and unfolds upon itself. Created 2014-2022 between L.A. & London. Mixed at Narnia, Walton-on-Thames.

Joanna Brouk's most ambitious recording, Sounds of the Sea is a concept album full of mystery and eroticism. A conch shell bookends this journey into the deep, going down and down and down further, never reaching bottom. Drawing inspiration from various legends of mermaids and sailors, Brouk weaves circling flutes, vocals, drones and whale songs to describe a sense of unfathomable longing more clearly than words could ever express. Sounds of the Sea is a hypnotic and profound achievement by one of new age's greatest composers.

The only album to soundtrack both late-‘70s Minneapolis lounges and a Travis Scott x Dior fashion show. Recorded in a host of living rooms with only a Fender Rhodes piano, a Donca Matic Mini Pops drum machine, and Senrick’s wide-eyed, 20-year-old voice, the 1977 LP disappeared into the wild and joined the Wendigo in Minnesota lore. A provocative mix of marina soul, easy listening, and loner folk, Dreamin’ is a sanguine sliver of the American private mind garden. Harsh winters coupled with a relative lack of interest amongst siblings allowed Chuck Senrick years of unfettered access to the family piano in their Farmington, Minnesota, home. Learning both by ear and by instruction, Senrick began gigging professionally at age 15, joining John Zimmer and the CR4 for a weekly rundown of Allman Brothers, Blind Faith, and Cream covers at the Sea Girt Inn in Lake Orchard. Tapping into James Taylor’s pop-chart achievements in songwriting and enunciation, Senrick composed the bulk of the songs featured on Dreamin’ before graduating from Farmington High School. At 20, Senrick migrated 30 miles north to the Twin Cities to pursue music full-time. Using borrowed equipment and borrowed living rooms, a string of informal recording sessions generated the quarter-inch tape for Dreamin’. “I didn't know how to do it,” Senrick says about producing an album. “I just knew it could be done.” Constructed with vocals, Fender Rhodes, and an assortment of rhythm presets on his Donca Matic Mini Pops drum machine, a mere 200 copies of the private-press masterpiece were stamped and sleeved and sold hand-to-hand at performances. Chuck’s wife Lesli illustrated the album cover—a pen-to-paper portrait of her husband against the backdrop of the Minneapolis Skyline, she and their newborn son situated on a nearby knoll. Any plans for a re-press were quashed when producer Bruce W. Hansen lost the reels during a messy divorce. “I was a kid with big ideas and not much hope to do anything but play,” Senrick said of the Dreamin’ era. “It still amazes me that people are interested in it.”

Through evocative, emotionally resonant music, Goodbye, Hotel Arkada, the new LP from American harpist and composer Mary Lattimore, speaks not just for its beloved namesake — a hotel in Croatia facing renovation — but for a universal loss that is shared. Six sprawling pieces shaped by change; nothing will ever be the same, and here, the artist, evolving in synthesis, celebrates and mourns the tragedy and beauty of the ephemeral, all that is lived and lost to time. Documented and edited in uncharacteristically measured sessions over the course of two years, the material remains rooted in improvisation while glistening as the most refined and robust in Lattimore’s decade-long catalog. It finds her communing with friends, contemporaries, and longtime influences, in full stride yet slowing down to nurture songs in new ways. The cast includes Lol Tolhurst (The Cure), Meg Baird, Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Roy Montgomery, Samara Lubelski, and Walt McClements. “When I think of these songs, I think about fading flowers in vases, melted candles, getting older, being on tour and having things change while you're away, not realizing how ephemeral experiences are until they don't happen anymore, fear for a planet we're losing because of greed, an ode to art and music that's really shaped your life that can transport you back in time, longing to maintain sensitivity and to not sink into hollow despondency.” Memories, scenes, and split-second impressions have long filled Lattimore’s musical universe. As one of today’s preeminent instrumental storytellers, she has “the uncanny ability to pluck a string in a way that will instantly make someone remember the taste of their fifth birthday cake," writes Pitchfork's Jemima Skala. Lattimore's impulse to record life as it happens matches her drive to travel and perform, as profiled by Grayson Haver Currin for The New York Times: "Lattimore recognized that being in motion shook loose strands of inspiration, moods she wanted to express with melody. She needed, then, to remain on the go." That sense of fluidity has also made her a prolific collaborator outside of solo work. 2020's Silver Ladders, recorded with Slowdive's Neil Halstead, opened the door for Lattimore to widen the vision of her primary project as well, and its proper follow-up is the natural next scale. “All of these people I asked to contribute have deeply affected and inspired my life.” For the title and inspiration, Lattimore’s mind returns to the island of Hvar in Croatia, where she first saw those silver ladders at the water’s edge. “There's a big old hotel there called the Hotel Arkada, and you could tell it had been hosting holiday-goers for decades in a great way. I walked around the lobby and the empty ballrooms and it looked like a well-worn, well-loved place. My friend Stacey who lives there told me to ‘say goodbye to Hotel Arkada, it might not be here when you get back’ and I heard soon after that it was actually going to be renovated in a very crisp, modern way.” Lattimore became fixated on the ingredients that make a place special — for Hotel Arkada, the patinaed chandeliers, the patterned bedspreads, the echoes of its intangible charm — and how when those leave this world, as they inevitably always will, it feels important to memorialize them, “to bottle it for a brief second.” For the opening track, “And Then He Wrapped His Wings Around Me,” Lattimore looks to two of her closest friends — songwriter Meg Baird, her collaborator on 2018’s Ghost Forests, and accordionist composer Walt McClements, who she’s toured and performed alongside — to surface a core memory. As a kid, Lattimore won a drawing contest through a country radio station and got to see Sesame Street Live! in Asheville. She and her mom were invited backstage, and there the benevolent icon Big Bird “gave me an incredible hug with his scratchy yellow wings.” The trio channel the enveloping warmth of that portrait, the feeling of innocent escape, flying away towards a childhood dream that is just out of reach, surreal, and tinged with sadness. In a rare vocal passage in Lattimore’s library, Baird softly hums with the rolling washes of harp above McClements’ tranquil drone; just for a moment, we are held in a sublime canary yellow embrace. “Arrivederci” features the synth work of Lol Tolhurst, an original member of The Cure and one of her musical heroes. Lattimore started the song after getting fired from a project because she hadn’t played the harp parts well enough. “So I came home and cried my eyes out and then wrote this song to try to recapture my love of playing the harp with nothing to mess up. I received Lol’s parts on New Year's Eve when I was hosting a party. I secretly went into my room and listened to the song and it felt just so magical to have such an influential musician connecting with a song that I made, especially a song I made when I was feeling like a total failure.” On “Blender In A Blender,” Lattimore connects with guitarist Roy Montgomery, a pioneer of New Zealand’s underground. First drafted by Lattimore during an artist residency program in UCross Wyoming, the track later evolved over the duo’s pen pal correspondence. Montgomery adds chords that first feel distant, hazed behind a high-drama harp pattern, before thundering into the foreground in a thrilling outro. The title refers to the trend of teenagers blending their cell phones; Lattimore and a friend were joking about all stuff that could be blended, including another blender. Humor is an unsung key to Lattimore’s craft; titles and anecdotes provide unexpected, counterbalancing levity. The subdued and striking “Music For Applying Shimmering Eye Shadow” is a tribute to the earthly rituals of preparation. “I wanted to make a song for the green rooms,” she says, recalling a moment in the mirror when a tourmate readied herself to go out into the unknown of performance. “It originally was made after googling ‘what does space smell like’ and getting an answer of ‘walnuts and brake pads’ and thinking about the wooziness of space, somehow smelling familiar earth smells in unfamiliar territory. Once I started adding more layers, I started thinking about what I hoped the song would soundtrack and what I wished a song would do.” In the case of “Horses, Glossy on the Hill,” the narrative is nearly inextricable from the sonics. The percussive clacking resembles hooves in an anxious gate. There’s a storm cloud in the sky; from a car window, Lattimore captures the silvery sheen coming off the horses’ striated shapes as if photographing the scene through sound. Her shimmering strings accelerate and distort under twisting effects as the herd becomes one with the horizon. There’s a crumbling elegance to the closing track, “Yesterday's Parties,” indebted to the reveries of Julee Cruise and the droning down-tuned strings of The Velvet Underground. We join Lattimore on a midnight stroll through the streets of Brussels; she looks through stained glass windows into quiet apartments and thinks of late nights with her friends who were out of town. Slowdive’s Rachel Goswell sings a wordless hymn as the harp, a special one Lattimore keeps in Brussels, glides with violin from Samara Lubelski. Leaving Lattimore in this place, itself a memory of yearning for connection, is an appropriate end to an album devoted to remembering and manifesting through shared expression.

Loraine James has processed the last two years of turbulence through her art. The North London producer started a monthly show on NTS radio, shared several projects on Bandcamp, and recorded two Hyperdub releases, the Nothing EP and Reflection, the proper LP follow-up to her 2019 breakthrough, For You and I (which landed James, then a teaching assistant by day, the top spot on year-end lists by Quietus and DJ Mag). She also returned to a distinct creative terrain uncharted since her teenage years. In contrast to her club music sensibilities, this mode embraces keyboard improvisations and vocal experimentation, foregoing percussive structure in favor of shaping atmosphere and tone. From this divergent headspace emerged new coordinates and climates, a new outlet: Whatever The Weather. A longtime fan of ambient-adjacent Ghostly International artists such as Telefon Tel Aviv (who she’d ask to master the album), HTRK (whose singer Jonnine Standish features on Nothing), and Lusine (whom she remixed at the start of 2021), James saw the label as the ideal home for this eponymous album of airy, transportive tracks as they began to formulate. The titling on Whatever The Weather works in degrees; simple parameters allowing James to focus on the nuances as a mood-builder. Her suspended universe fluctuates; freezing, thawing, swaying and blooming from track to track. James describes her jam-based approach for the sessions as “free-flowing, stopping when I felt like I was done,” allowing her subconscious to lead. The improvisations have an intrinsic fluidity to them, akin to sudden weather events passing over a single environment — the location feels fixed while the conditions vary. The album opens at “25°C,” a sunshower of soft hums and keys. As the longest piece, it serves to establish stability, the inflection point where any move above or below this temperate breeze breaks the bliss. Given James’ proclivity for organized chaos in her production, this scene is fleeting, naturally. From that utopia, we plummet to the most melancholic read on the meter, “0°C,” its isolated synth line traversing a hailstorm of steely beats and static. Next, the dial jumps for the propulsive standout “17°C.” Like a timelapse of springtime in the city, the single accelerates across a frenzy of frames; car horns, screeching brakes, and crosswalk chatter fill the pauses between rapid jolts of multi-shaped percussion. For portions of the work, James leans neo-classical, rendering pensive vignettes of cascading piano keys and warm delay. “2°C (Intermittent Rain)” ends the A-Side on a short and stormy loop; a resulting sense of reset permeates the B-Side’s opener, “10°C.” The producer mingles intuitively on echoed organ, locking into and abandoning atypical rhythms that suggest her jazz-oriented interests. “4°C” and “30°C” display the range of James’ vocal experiments. The former chops and pitches her voice to a rhythmic, otherworldly effect, the latter reveals James at her most straightforward (she cites Deftones’ Chino Moreno and American Football’s Mike Kinsella as inspirations), singing tenderly and unobstructed for nearly the duration before beats collide in the climax. Whatever The Weather closes at “36°C,” while a sweltering heat by any standards the track eases along comfortably on a chorus of synth waves, acting as an apt bookend for this evocative, sky-tracing collection that started in a similar state. Cyclical, seasonal, and unpredictable, true to its namesake.

Minecraft - Volume Alpha is the work of German composer and musician Daniel Rosenfeld. Using C418 as his moniker, Rosenfeld crafted the sweeping soundtrack and vibrant sound design which helped breathe life into Minecraft's voxel-based universe. Fans and critics were universally enamored with his beatless, nuanced electronic pieces upon release. Popular gaming site Kotaku named it among The Best Game Music of 2011, calling the music "remarkably soothing," and The Guardian has compared Rosenfeld's delicate piano and sparse ambient motifs to legendary artists Erik Satie and Brian Eno. In an interview feature with C418, Polygon distilled Volume Alpha to its essence: "It's not bound by the retro aesthetic of Minecraft's graphics. It transcends them. The album is an attempt to uplift the combined game/music experience into the sublime."

Limited Blue Seaglass Wave Translucent Vinyl edition. singer-songwriter Devendra Banhart, who is known for his work at Meditations best-selling compilation 'Fragments du Monde Flottant', and who is a great admirer of esoteric studies, oriental music and Haruomi Hosono. Devendra Banhart, a singer-songwriter, and Noah Georgeson, a producer and friend who has produced many great works together, recorded and completed their ambient albums separately during the pandemic. The work began while recording Devendra Banhart's album "Ma" in 2019, and was put together with friends in 2020. An idea that had been brewing since they first met, and now, after over 20 years, has finally taken shape and been released as a necessary part of the current era. It's quintessential that they express their own sensibilities to the fullest while showing strong influences from their predecessors in new age music such as Henry Cowell, Lou Hudson, and Pauline Oliveros! This compassionate, meditative piece of work, with its like Zen quality, will be a beautiful "refuge" as the title suggests.

14 short melancholy tape-loops from the early eighties. Remastered and now available on conventional pressed CD in Trim-Pak (previously available as a very limited CDR. "Melancholia is probably the best Basinski's record until now, even if this is hard for me to say given my love for each one of his releases. Contrarily to his 'continuing' projects such as Disintegration Loops and Water Music, this is a sort of a sketch album, made of short pieces all created with tape loops and some synthetic wave here and there. This music is so beautifully delicate and sad in its auto-reflective moods, it stands right there with everything ranging from the usual suspects in the 'ambient' field, to a distorted damp ghost of Claude Debussy or Maurice Ravel put into a time machine. Just ravishing as you can imagine, William's almost suffocated loops celebrate the burial of any enthusiastic thought, to make room to the most difficult introspection -- the one growing you in a hurry and leaving you alone, observing from a safe distance. This beauty is for any human being who's not afraid to understand life's happenings -- maybe the hard way, but who cares?" --Massimo Ricci, touchingextremes.org.

This is the official reissue of the fantastic 1998 solo album by Naoki Toushi, a solitary guitarist who was an original member of the "King of Noise", JUKAI-KAIZEI, and also a member of the Japanese psychedelic rock band "Nagisa de". The latest mastering from the original mixed DAT master!

The Moon and the Melodies is a singular record within the Cocteau Twins’ catalog—unusually ethereal, even by their standards, and largely instrumental, guided by the free-form improvisations of Harold Budd, an ambient pioneer who had drifted into their orbit as if by divine intervention.  Building on the atmospheric bliss of Victorialand, released earlier the same year, it signaled a possible future for the trio, yet it was a path the Cocteau Twins would never take again.  Now, 28 years after it was first released, it has been reissued for the first time—remastered, from the original tapes, by Robin Guthrie himself.

The album was never actually meant to happen; no one can even recall exactly how it came about in the first place. As both Guthrie and Simon Raymonde remember it, the independent television station Channel 4 approached 4AD about a film project pairing musicians from different genres.  In interviews in the 1980s, however, Budd, who passed away in 2020, believed that his music publisher had linked him with the Cocteaus after the group had expressed interest in covering one of his songs.  In any case, the film never happened. “But we’d spoken to Harold, and we were all quite excited about it—in a very sort of downbeat Cocteau Twins way, where we were rarely excited about anything,” Raymonde recalls.  “We’re like, well, let’s carry on and do it anyway—you’ve already booked your flight, let’s just hang out in the studio and see what happens.”

“There was a lot of hilarity,” Guthrie says.  “It was strange to have an older man in our life, because Liz and I saw everybody around us—the contemporary bands, the people running record labels, the journalists—as grownups.  We were literally kids.  I thought, ‘Oh Christ, he’s going to be some pompous, you know, into his classical music,’ and he wasn’t.  He was just a big man-child. We clicked in that respect.”

The Cocteau Twins had recently built their own recording studio in North Acton, in West London.  It was the first time they’d had their own space, and they relished their newfound freedom.  “We were in this lovely little bubble of making our own music,” Raymonde says.  Budd fit right into their bubble world; all four musicians got on immediately.  Over pints at the pub, they talked about everything but music, and in the studio, Raymonde and Budd both say that very little, if anything, was discussed, save perhaps for questions of tempo or key.

“Harold would sit down at the piano and start playing something, and then maybe I’d pick up a bass and start playing along with him,” Raymonde says.  “They were very much noodles rather than songs.  That was the way we tended to work anyway.  Work out what kind of mood are we feeling, get a drum beat going, just a two-bar pattern; Guthrie would plug his guitar in, I would plug my bass in, and then we’d just jam for a few minutes and go, ‘Yeah, that was cool, let’s carry on doing that thing or that thing,’ really casually, and then all of a sudden we’d have a song.  I know that sounds ludicrous, but that is how we did it, and with Harold it was exactly the same.”

Budd played a Yamaha CP-70 electric grand, and the group came armed with a growing arsenal of gear, like the Yamaha Rev7 multi-effects processor and Lexicon PCM60, perhaps an Ensoniq Mirage.  Guthrie used an EBow on his guitars, along with a Gizmo, an electromechanical device invented by Godley and Creme.  Guthrie remembers endless experiments in search of new sounds: “Lots of messing around, tuning the guitar strings all the same, getting droney sorts of things—really big, loud, sort of Metallica-like feedback sounds, but then put in the mix so quietly you can hardly hear them the first time you listen.  All these psychoacoustic sort of tricks that I liked.  It’s all in there, you know.  Just being fearless—if it didn’t work out, it was never going to be a record anyway.”

The musicians’ contrasting approaches ended up shaping the album’s somewhat curious format—four instrumentals in Budd’s meandering style, more tone poems than actual songs, and four more structured pieces with verses, choruses, drum machine, and, of course, Elizabeth Fraser’s inimitable singing, as bold and inspired as anywhere in the band’s catalog.  There was no conscious decision to have Fraser only sing on four songs.  “That’s just what came out of the sessions,” Guthrie says.  “It was a lightweight atmosphere making it, because we didn’t actually feel that we were making a record at the time.  We were trying out some stuff in the studio, and it just evolved into what it did.  Which is, essentially, a recorded version of some people trying out some stuff in the studio.”

The sessions were over in two weeks, maybe three.  “And that was already getting a bit long,” Guthrie says, “because some of our earlier records had taken just a couple of days.”  They fleshed out the material, he adds, with one more song that the trio wrote in Budd’s absence, after they realized they didn’t have quite enough material for a full album.  (“Was I that drunk?” Budd asked, upon hearing the final version of the album, which included a song he had no recollection of making.)  As much as it may pain fans to hear it, there is no more extant material from the sessions—no outtakes, no rough drafts, no alternate versions. “For the 13 years I was in the band, we have no spare tracks at all,” Raymonde says.  “If after an hour or two a track wasn’t coming together, we’d just get rid of it.  If it wasn’t good now, our attitude was, it’ll never be any good.  So we’d think, tomorrow’s another day—let’s go to the cinema and come back tomorrow, and see how it goes.  Let’s go bowling.”

The other curious thing about the album—the fact that it was credited to all four players under their individual names—followed the same intuitive logic as everything else that went into the record.  “It’s because it wasn’t a Cocteau Twins album,” Guthrie says.  Raymonde concurs: “It was simple.  All four of us have gone into the studio and done something, but it isn’t a Cocteau Twins album.”  But perhaps the passage of time has changed matters.  These days, on streaming services, you’ll find the album filed chronologically alongside the rest of the band’s work.  “What’s interesting,” Guthrie adds, “is that I got the tape boxes from the studio, and guess what it says on it?  ‘Cocteau Twins plus Harold Budd.’”  Perhaps, he seems to suggest, the group got hung up on a detail that never really mattered.  In any case, Raymonde says, “The more credit that Harold gets for the work he did, the more people that find his music because it’s in the Cocteau environment, the better.”

Despite all its quirks, The Moon and the Melodies has attracted a passionate fan base over the years.  Its most atmospheric tracks routinely turn up in ambient DJ sets. 'Sea, Swallow Me' is one of the Cocteau Twins’ most streamed songs on Spotify, second only to Heaven or Las Vegas’ 'Cherry-coloured Funk'; it has also found new life on TikTok, where it serves as the soundtrack to innumerable expressions of hard-to-express melancholy.  For such a low-key affair, the album casts a long shadow—but Raymonde believes the record’s uniqueness stems directly from its humble, unpremeditated origins.  “It’s always about making something that’s pleasurable,” he says, “capturing a moment in time between friends that are enjoying making music together.  Really, that’s the essence of it—the music was just a reflection of how nice a time we were having in the studio.”

Kindred spirits Passepartout Duo and Inoyama Land embody the essence of play – charting a new chapter and reinvigorating the environmental music and electronic landscape.

Passepartout Duo is formed of Nicoletta Favari (IT) and Christopher Salvito (IT/US), who since 2015 have been on a continuous journey travelling the world’s corners, engaged in a creative process they term “slow music”. Having been guests of many notable artist residencies and with live performances in cultural spaces and institutions, their evocative music escapes categorisation. With no fixed abode their musical pilgrimage brought them to Japan first in 2019, which prompted a deep connection to Kankyō Ongaku ‘environmental music’, a genre in which Inoyama Land is often associated with, soundtracking the duo’s first immersive experience. In 2023 the duo revisited Japan and set out to reconnect in particular with the music of Inoyama Land, performed by Makoto Inoue and Yasushi Yamashita. The highly revered album ‘Danzindan-Pojidon’ (1983) produced by Haruomi Hosono amongst other well publicized and acclaimed reissues (Light in The Attic Records’ Grammy-nominated compilation ‘Kankyō Ongaku’), produced a global resurgence and admiration of the environmental music movement. Nicoletta took the lead to seek out Inoyama Land and in making contact successfully their intrigue and eagerness to meet was warmly reciprocated, and the group scheduled to meet in the form of a spontaneous improvisation session.

“We’re deeply concerned with what it means to be a duo, and what it means for people to connect through music.”

'Radio Yugawara' was recorded in 2023 in Makoto Inoue’s hometown of Yugawara where his family runs a kindergarten, whose space has doubled as a Sunday recording studio. Upon arriving a circle of four tables was set up in the school’s auditorium - the tables were carefully populated with children’s instruments: a full set of handbells, a glockenspiel, a xylophone, recorders, melodicas, and harmonicas. Surrounding the tables were racks hanging all sorts of bells and wind chimes and within this environment each performer set up their own electronic instruments. Dialling into each other, a simple set of playground ‘game rules’ was devised where time was divided into three separate sessions (1) ‘only electronic instruments’, ‘only acoustic’, and ‘a mix of both’, (2) ‘revolving duets’ each taking turns to play through a cycle of ‘four duos’ and (3) ‘anything permitted’, accumulating to more than three hours of material which was then carefully distilled into succinct tracks. The alluring album opener ‘Strange Clouds’ oscillates into view, setting a lush scenery built from a bed of synthesisers and the first glimpse of the chromaplane, the hand-built analogue instrument designed by Passepartout Duo, featuring a touchless interface and endless organic sounds that underpin the album’s 11-track inlets. Percussive pulses act as the heartbeat to ‘Abstract Pets’ before earthy sub-swells open the pathway to glistening glockenspiels and wind chimes. The atmosphere shapeshifts with ‘Simoom’ and ‘Tangerine Fields’ with swirling synth lines and subliminal beats resembling changes in weather patterns. At the centre points the idyllic ‘Observatory’ and ‘Mosaic’ could illuminate the deepest oceans before the hypnotic, arpeggiating synth lines in the otherworldly ‘Xiloteca’ propel the album towards ‘Solivago’, with its gentle lullaby of playful ambience. The reflective closer ‘Axolotl Dreams’ resolves their somewhat chance meeting with elegant pastoral chord strokes and uplifting synth swells, sending final signals upwards into the ether.

'Radio Yugawara' is a unique one-off transmission from a specific place and point in time, unlikely to ever occur again. The respective duo’s approach can really be described as “tuning in”, a tuning into each other, to themselves, and to the surrounding nature of Yugawara. Like waves that travel off-world, sounds travel through the universe and can be lost forever if we don’t seek them out. In finding a harmonic affinity within their instruments and a spiritual kinship in their interwoven performance, Radio Yugawara at its core is an interpretation of feeling, of close human interaction and the true essence of discovery.

“The album is both a transmission from a location, but also a tuning into the surroundings and to each other. Music in this kind of ephemeral moment is much less about active creation and more about discovering something which is already there in the air.” 

Following the resonating success of their initial collaboration, the TLF Trio—comprising Danish cellist Cæcilie Trier (CTM), pianist Jakob Littauer, and guitarist Mads Kristian Frøslev—reunites on Latency with electronic music legend Moritz von Oswald for the follow-up to their debut album, "Sweet Harmony." TLF Trio, along with Moritz von Oswald, once again delves into the realm of chamber music, this time with two new songs further exploring the intricate acoustic dynamics of their instruments with electronics. As the second instalment in this musical journey, "New Songs & Variations" builds upon the minimalistic, sculptural, and narrative qualities of its predecessor, weaving a tapestry of expressive and plural voices. Moritz von Oswald, a central figure in the electronic music scene since the early '90s, brings his wealth of experience to the project, reinterpreting two of TLF Trio's previous works. From his early days as a classical percussionist to groundbreaking collaborations in the techno sphere, von Oswald's influence has left an indelible mark. His role in co-founding Basic Channel/Rhythm & Sound and contributions to the Berlin-Detroit-Chicago axis have defined various strains of modern music. "New Songs & Variations" not only captures the rich history and influence of Moritz von Oswald but also showcases his ongoing exploration into classical, experimental, and improvisational contexts. From recomposing Ravel and Mussorgsky’s music for Deutsche Grammophon to acclaimed collaborations with jazz trumpeter Nils Petter Molvær, composer Laurel Halo, or Afrobeat pioneer Tony Allen, von Oswald's versatility continues to evolve. TLF Trio and Moritz von Oswald invite listeners to embark on a sonic journey that bridges the past and the present, mirroring the transformative essence of Louise Lawler's distorted image, which graces its cover—a testament to the delicate fluidity and shape-shifting nature of the music contained within.

New age for the suburban city, spun from a poor planting in the suburbs or from an apartment room along the national highway. "Suiyu" is the first album by Hajime Orikawa, a musician living in Chiba.

From side A, which is composed of home recordings and environmental sounds in a room at home, and contains a lo-fi yet theological resonance, to the title track "Suiyu" which exceeds 15 minutes and where various instruments such as autoharp, electronic piano, Moog synthesizer, organ, and tenor saxophone beautifully blend with a free-spirited singing voice like a wild rabbit running through the fields, the melancholy of the suburban city floats gently.

The cassette version includes a DL code for “Ikkojiteki,” a collection of outtracks, along with a DL code for "Suiyu". 

As his split album It’s counterpart (faitiche19, 2019) made abundantly clear, Jonathan Scherk is a master of his craft. Toon! immerses us in a highly distinctive world of plunderphonics-sampledelica-variations acousmatiques that’s impossible to classify while feeling familiar nonetheless. Following a strict two-minute format, thirteen complex sound constructions offer a range of experiences – as if the neurosciences had developed an acoustic formula capable of triggering illusions of memory. 13 tracks = 13 déjà-vus. "When department stores dream . . . epiphanies appear in elliptical rotations. Afterthoughts recalled on the beach as a child, soft-drawn and befuddling. Are they dreams? Are they metempsychotic leakage? With cup so full-brim, there’s bound to be spillage. Toon! is sleeping on-your-feet, in the light. The pleasure must be more than belletristic, but what’s left to say? Perhaps the sun is simply too bright." (Samuel Dzierzawa/Jan Jelinek, 2021)

Triángulos De Luz Y Espacios De Sombra (Triangles of Light and Spaces of Shadow) is a collection of visionary Mexican electronic music sourced from obscure cassettes, CDs, private pressings, and personal archives, presented by Séance Centre and Smiling C. These works trace an expansive scene of prescient musicians who created a unique speculative cosmology, forging Mesoamerican mythologies with innovative sonic technologies. From the mid-80s through the 90s, a network of Mexican musicians embarked on a journey to craft a musical expression distinct from the mainstream musical culture that dominated the airwaves and record industry. Based around practices of collaboration, ethnomusicology, electronic experimentation and home-recording, these artists traversed territories at the very edges of genre and musical form. Myth-scientists Antonio Zepeda, José Luis Fernández Ledesma, Jorge Reyes, Isaac Alva, and La Fábula venture into the periphery of the new age, incorporating Pre-Columbian rhythms and melodies into their dream-like compositions. Vistas Fijas, Armando Velasco, Eblen Macari, and Gabo move through radical new wave territories, utilizing guitars and drum machines to map their musical chronicles. Germán Bringas and Eugenio Toussaint traverse the jazz landscape, blending horns with electronics, improvising long uncharted expeditions. Pinning down a unified sound for these artists is challenging, yet they collectively cohabitate the capacious space of "ambient," employing diverse expressions through various imaginative modalities. What distinguishes these artists is a distinctly transhistorical approach which vividly imagines sonic possible worlds. In an attempt to situate themselves within a culturally and historically complex landscape, many of the artists on the compilation reactivate ancient Mesoamerican music traditions, those of the Aztecs, Maya, and Olmecs. Their electronic compositions are intricate tapestries woven with the haunting melodies of pre-Hispanic flutes and ocarinas, resonating alongside the echoes of ancient percussive marvels like the teponaztli and huéhuetl. Ritualistic chants, undulating synths, and atavistic rhythms intertwine, conjuring a hypnotic mosaic of chimeric sound. Natural and acoustic sounds are juxtaposed within a synthetic habitat, as if towering skyscrapers cast a shadow across ancient pyramids. Rather than longing for an impossible past, these works evoke fantastical visions suspended in dreams, glimpses into the mythical realm of the hummingbirds. The title "Triángulos De Luz Y Espacios De Sombra" (Triangles of Light and Spaces of Shadow) is inspired by a public access TV show of the same name that showcased several artists featured in this compilation. Imagining triangular prisms of light superimposed on otherworldly shadows feels apt for these illusory and phantasmagoric sounds. The space between these two opposing but interdependent images is the resonant juncture where these artists create their auditory oracles. This compilation highlights the prophetic luminaries of this underground community of musicians, with many of these songs previously unreleased or only available on fugitive formats until now. This double LP release features 17 tracks remastered from reel-to-reel, DAT, and cassette masters. It includes two inserts with an essay by Mexico City based music journalist David Cortés on both Spanish and English, accompanied by archival photos of the artists and artifacts featured on the compilation. The first edition comes adorned in a luminescent sticker illustrating a solar eclipse. RIYL: Outro Tempo, Durutti Column, Jon Hassell, Música Esporádica, Finis Africae

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.

‘Gaia: Selected Ambient & Downtempo Works (1996-2003)’ is a new in-depth compilation of works by Japanese musician Dream Dolphin. Co-compiled by long-time friend of the label Eiji Taniguchi, it draws from a vast discography of music oscillating between IDM, Pop and Ambient. First appearing on Eiji’s compilation ’Heisei No Oto - Japanese Left-field Pop From The CD Age (1989-1996)’, this selection of rediscoveries, further shines a light on the singular musician known as Dream Dolphin and her place in Japan’s rich electronic music legacy. Dream Dolphin was originally an Ambient and Electronic project by the Japanese artist referred to simply as Noriko, who moved from studying classic Italian songs as a child, to increasingly being inspired by artists such as PIL, Yellow Magic Orchestra, KLF and movies such as ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ and ‘Le Grand Bleu’. The music she released under the name Dream Dolphin, from the age of sixteen, is unique and versatile in style, encompassing Ambient, IDM, Techno, Trance and even Drum & Bass, whilst fusing natural sounds with her own spoken word lyrics. Dream Dolphin released an incredible twenty albums in just eight years. In addition to her own projects, she has also put together a number of fascinating compilations herself, as well as composing ambient music to be used in hospitals and other caring contexts. ‘Gaia: Selected Ambient & Downtempo Works (1996-2003)’ contains 15 tracks thoughtfully selected from various albums that until now were only released on CD format. MFM062 will be released in 2xLP, 2xCD and digital format.

Welcome to the Encyclopedia Sónica: Every sound you will hear on this album has been recorded by me since 1994 in different parts of the world. On top of these sounds, their melodies and rhythms grow the compositions you will hear. Some of the pieces have a collaborator that integrates with the sounds in different ways. Since I was a little boy, I always found music everywhere. I remember listening to the engine of my mother's car and finding incredible rhythms there. I've always thought that every sound we hear can be made into music. Every sound we hear can be heard as music, felt, and understood as music. Every sound has an attack, a decay; some have a pitch. What is more beautiful - the sound of a flute, bird, trumpet, car horn, violin, or buzzing mosquito? They can all be used to make music. If we learn to hear all sounds as 'musical', or at least having the potential to be used to make music, we might look at and listen to the world more lovingly. That car passing by had a beautiful crescendo. That dog barking in the distance created an amazing melody with an impossible-to-transcribe rhythm. Is there no creative intention behind those sounds? Can the listener give them an intention? Can the listener transform them into art? I am just trying to organize and use them in a way that they will be musical to you, hoping that the next time you hear an ocean wave breaking, or a bonfire crackling, or a fly flying, you can enjoy the notes and the rhythms they are making. They are being created by something - who knows what the intention is, but some of the most amazing rhythms I've heard come from rocks falling in cenotes or ice breaking down in a glacier. The melodies I've listened to, from bats, dogs fighting, or newborn dogs, are haunting and beautiful. The timbre from sounds such as the thorn of a cactus, the voice of a homeless person in the street, or a mosquito buzzing can be used to create instruments as beautiful as any instrument. They have a new sound, or familiar old sound, used differently in a way that invites us to hear the music created by this planet. I hope you enjoy these sounds... Leonardo Heilblum

We invite you to embark on a captivating sonic odyssey with Quiet Logic, a masterpiece co-crafted by electronic maestros Mixmaster Morris and Jonah Sharp at Haruomi Hosono’s Studio back in 1997. It encapsulates a time when electronic music was undergoing rapid transformation, and these artists were at the forefront, pushing boundaries and redefining soundscapes. Inspired by their unique musical backgrounds, from Hosono's immense contribution to electronic music, and a key figure in the renowned group Yellow Magic Orchestra, to Morris's illustrious worldwide chill out DJ performances and Sharp's pioneering San Francisco Reflective label, Quiet Logic delivers a blend of intricate rhythms and celestial environments remastered for 2023 and available for the first time on vinyl format. Listeners are invited to once again traverse its ambient realms and complex beats. For fans of Haruomi Hosono / YMO, The Irresistible Force, Spacetime Continuum, Dreamfish, Tetsu Inoue, FFWD, H.I.A., Fax +49-69/450464, and mind expanding musics.

“Momento Claro”, a dream-like landscape crafted by funcionário, influenced by Jon Hassell and Hiroshi Yoshimura’s latest works Glossy Mistakes proudly announces the upcoming release of "Momento Claro," the latest full-length album by Portuguese artist funcionário. Scheduled to drop on May 10th, "Momento Claro" will be available digitally and on vinyl, inviting listeners to embark on a profound auditory exploration. Following the success of his previous work "Cavalcante," released on Hozulam, funcionário returns delving deep into the realms of ambient and Fourth World. Inspired by the likes of Jon Hassel, Brian Eno, and Japanese environmental artist such as Hiroshi Yoshimura and Takashi Kokubo. "Momento Claro" offers a sonic tapestry rich with textures and layers, evoking a sense of spirituality and introspection. A split second. At the heart of the album lies a collection of eight tracks, each a testament to funcionário's craft. The journey begins with "Esperança," a mesmerising nine-minute meditation adorned with the soothing sounds of the ocean, setting the tone for the ethereal voyage ahead. From the tranquil atmospheres of "Retrato" to the contemplative depths of "Momento Claro," each composition invites listeners to immerse themselves fully in the sonic, dream-like landscape crafted with care and depth. Here a glimpse into the intricacies of day-to-day experiences and interactions collide throughout a collage of organic layers, atmospheres and approaches, "Momento Claro" serves as a poignant reflection on the contemporary working society, where "the power of sound as a bridge between memory and the imagination that interprets it”. Mastered by Damian Schwartz, "Momento Claro" achieves a sonic clarity that enhances the album's immersive qualities, ensuring that each note resonates with precision and depth. Prepare to be transported to a realm where time stands still and the boundaries between reality and reverie blur. A deep journey that promises to captivate the mind and nourish the soul