MUSIC

Xexa is still undefined, gliding over her origins, influences and points of reference. Her music is informed by uploads from all that, processing heritage and future in much the same democratic way, sure of its (her!) path. Synthetic as it may sound, "Kissom" contains the very human element of Xexa's presence, not only through her instantly recognizable ethereal vocals but also manifest in the web of grooves stopping short of "dance". "Kizomba 003" is the closest she comes to the dancefloor, a reduced take on the popular style of kizomba, a low-key interpretation but with the vocals atypically high in the mix. A brief breath of nostalgia. "Kissom" (title track) prolongs the slow pace, almost as an extended mix of "Kizomba 003", stretching the sexy bounce for close to 4 extra delightful minutes.

Everything seems to dissolve into space, as if every track gently expires only to be reconfigured somewhere else, molecule by molecule, perhaps in a different location within our mind. The artist somehow corroborates the feeling, particularly regarding "Será", "Xtinti" and "Txe", which she says "finish exactly where i wanted. They all end with an EQ that mutes the frequencies until they cease to exist". Here, there, sparse beats, successive waves of ambience, half machine lips singing close to our ears, a blend of classic 4AD and a metallic environment warmly wrapping around the music. Extra long, "Quem és tu?" poses the question - Who are we? Who is she? And the title "Kissom" stems from another question Xexa often hears from people, "Ki som é este?" (What is this music?). The answer might well be the the artist's own paste of the words "kiss" and "som". Lovely.

'28’ is the work of two Japanese artists both now resident in France and both aged 28 - hence the title. This album is the result of over 3 years worth of collaboration between the pair, coming together to form a beautiful marriage of sweet female vocals, alongside pristine, lusciously textured and layered electronics, and some clever yet funky beat programming. ‘28’ has the feeling of a classic electronica album. The sonic precision, clarity, and detailing of each element has been lovingly worked on; everything fits and flows together as the album unfolds with an organic, slowly unfurling logic. Often built up in overlapping layers, Noriko’s voice is beautifully recorded and placed within the mix. Although largely sung in Japanese, her vocals add a warmth and solidity to the album – like a series of breathy vapour trails or lullaby coos and hums, which are occasionally chopped into and stuttered via computer, yet never jarringly so. Added alongside the gentle loops and textures of the music, the album is consequently held between a kind of swaying, fluid drift where the various layers gently slide across one another, and the sudden elastic snap of the beat.

Aoki and Tujiko’s collaboration began in 2002 when they were both booked the same event for The Cartier Foundation in Paris, got talking and began working together on the track ‘Fly’ for the first time. As they worked, it quickly dawned that they both really liked what they were doing and so decided to extend the project to an album-length collaboration. Yet following that show, the pair found little time to work together because Aoki was at the time living in Osaka whilst Tujiko was in Paris. As a way around this problem, they began sending their audio files to each other as CDRs, working separately on ideas and then slowly building their tracks bit by bit. Consequently, it took a long time to finish this album, although the process sped up when Aoki also moved to Paris just under a year ago.

Whilst this album marks the first time the pair have worked together on a recording, AOKI has previously released four albums on the Japanese-based Progressive Form label and one on Cirque. Somewhat better known to European audiences, Noriko has released albums on Mego, Sub Rosa, Tomlab, all of which have received glowing and considerable coverage.

Smerz continue to mark out sui generis wyrd-pop territory on their second proper full-length, this time for the on-fire Escho label, stripping away the club nostalgia and doubling down on oddball R&B harmonies and quirky DIY-cum-downtown NYC production tics - a sort of genius missing link between Astrid Sonne, Cibo Matto and Luscious Jackson.

Catharina Stoltenberg and Henriette Motzfeldt's earliest gear was a torch in a dark digital corridor, a prophetic look at a hazy pop future that blurred genre boundaries and trampled across the borders between the mainstream and the underground. Needless to say, they set the stage for a sound that's more or less orthodox in 2025 - we see Smerz's shadow on ML Buch's world-beating 'Suntub', or Erika De Casier's bedroom R&B groover 'Still', for example. And their contribution to the canon hasn't gone completely unnoticed; the duo co-produced K-pop girl group NewJeans' impressive 'Get Up' EP in 2023 alongside de Casier, and turned in an edit of Astrid Sonne's 'Say you love me' in 2024. If there's a discernible scene coalescing between Copenhagen, London and Oslo, Smerz are operating somewhere near the center.

So four years after threading supersaw-led trance-pop and rattly footwork-pilled kicks through a lattice of offhand skits and classical interludes on their impressive debut album 'Believer', Stoltenberg and Motzfeldt return to an art-pop landscape that's humming with energy. Fittingly, they reply by setting a new sonic benchmark, pruning their productions considerably and focusing on the bumpy, textural weirdness that often lurked in the distance on prior recordings. The best way to get a handle on this one is to scrub thru the duo's archive of NTS shows (they've been producing weekly bulletins for the best part of a decade), where you might hear Klein, Morton Feldman, Leila, Angelo Badalamenti, Young Thug or Kaskade alongside demos and cuts from like-minded peers such as Clarissa Connelly, Lolina and Peder Mannerfelt.

They're enthusiastic, discerning listeners who can cut away some of the cultural baggage to figure out links between vastly different sounds, and that's exactly the experience 'Big city life' provides. From the first few notes of the title track it's as if we've been dialed into NYC circa 1981, with rubbery microsampled half-riffs that project like they're being coughed out of a malfunctioning Fairlight CMI. Trading schoolyard rhymes back and forth, Smerz sing-rap nonchalantly over jerky MIDI piano and strangulated breaks, imagining a mid-point between day zero trip-hop and Craig Leon's enduringly influential 'Nommos'. And that intermixture of casual amusement and heads-y deep digging nourishes the entire record. There's the whipsmart Stereolab-in-dub vibe of 'But I do', 'Close' with its sad lounge and sensual Chicago lilt, and the lead single 'You got time and I got money', that's a raggy doll stitch-up of Air's 'Sexy Boy' and Verve's 'Bittersweet Symphony' covered by Neneh Cherry.

And just like on their debut album, it's Smerz's bijou, ostensibly throwaway moments that fully crystallize their narrative. They understand exactly what draws us back again and again to "classic" albums (and good mixes, actually), and pepper 'Big city life' with elegant, eccentric digressions, like the General MIDI player-piano loosie 'What', and 'Street Style', a stripped-back candlelit ballad that couches the bolshy TR-909-led 'Imagine This', a screwed-n-chopped Mantronix moment that accents their vast knowledge of '80s rap and electro. And if you're missing the old Smerz, they throw us a bone with the Autotune-d trance digression 'Dreams', leading us out of the album with a melancholy reminder that the flicker of the club is still there, somewhere, just distorted into a hypnotic, euphoric outline.

2x LP with printed inner sleeves. A strong tip on this one! South-Asian vocalist, multi-instrumentalist and composer Ganavya releases her new studio album “Like the sky I've been too quiet” on Shabaka Hutchings’ Native Rebel Recordings. The album features contributions from artists including Kofi Flexxx, Floating Points, Carlos Niño, Leafcutter John and Mercury-nominated bassist Tom Herbert. Since graduating from Berklee College of Music, UCLA and Harvard, Ganavya has quickly become a much-in-demand artist on the US scene who consistently confounds expectations. Hailed as “among modern music's most compelling vocalists” (Wall Street Journal), “most enchanting” (NPR) and "extraordinary" (DownBeat), Ganavya has worked with an array of luminaries including the likes of Quincy Jones, Wayne Shorter and Esperanza Spalding and on new album "Like the sky I've been too quiet" she presents thirteen compelling tracks which showcase her ethereal voice and numinous energy.

A growling, distinctive set of loose-limbed, groove-fwd art rock inversions, Alpha Maid's debut album has been well worth the wait, augmenting post-punk, noise rock and free improv structures with sui generis studio fog and an unparalleled level of no-fucks-given eccentricity. RIYL Dome, Silver Apples, Moin, Klein, Mica Levi, Loop, Still House Plants.

Leisha Thomas has been working almost entirely without fanfare, imagining a sound that's part Black Dice, part Slint and part Klein. 2021's 'CHUCKLE', released on Olan Monk's c.a.n.v.a.s. label, felt sketchy, anarchic and unhinged - at the time, we compared it with Dean Blunt, This Heat, La Timpa and Slint - and 'Is this a queue' plays to Thomas's keenest instincts, darkening idiosyncratic pencil strokes with confident, intentional gestures. In a year where seemingly everyone's attempting the rock-pop pivot, Thomas refines and focuses ideas that have coursed through not just their solo work, but their spresso-branded collaborations with Mica Levi, for years. This is Thomas's record, for sure, and its quirks are only strengthened by collaborations with their wider community of like-minded operatives: Ben Vince, Coby Sey, Valentina Megaletti and Leo Hermitt. Nothing feels cheap or rattled off for clout - if there's an artist featured, you'd better know there's a damn good reason.

Opener '6-9' is irresistibly incongruous, a cheeky false start that de-platforms Thomas's signature guitar sound, fudging crusty environmental recordings and weightless drones into a modish take on Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis's subterranean rhythmic experiments. We're on more familiar territory with '2 Numbers', but what starts as a tempo-fluxing slowcore slog is coolly stirred by background whispers and plasticky stabs that sound as if they've been wrenched from Kelis's Neptunes-produced first LP. It's hard to know exactly what Manchester-based Hermitt has contributed to this one, but the track's as poppy as Thomas allows themself to get, nearing the tape-dubbed, lo-fi preciousness of last year's 'Underground Love'. Elsewhere, even when Thomas forms what might be mistaken for a song, it's inevitably deconstructed or skewered; on 'Guarded', their wailed ad libs and chants drift in-and-out of step with grumbly strums and boxy, staggered drums.

"It's been a minute," they echo thru distortion and a heaping spoonful of reverb. And by 'GOAT Rosetta' there's almost nothing left, just feedback, growling distortion and barely discernible words sung into the cavernous expanse. Even the genius 'WHY WE HAVE TO MOVE', that centres Valentina Mageletti's most Danny Taylor turn behind the kit, sounds as if it's about to fray at the edges, with its lysergic, xenharmonic guitar whirrs swamping Thomas's mumbled words and angular improvisations. They melt 'Washing Machine'-era Sonic Youth strums and boss-tuned twangs with similarly skewed AutoTuned moans on the simmering, brilliant 'On Smoke', and on the album's sobering finale 'Palimpsest', Thomas's purposed splatter of guitar noises and lurching beats fall into step with Coby Sey's alert annunciations and Ben Vince's inventive sax drones, forming a ruff outline of London's most fertile nook.

If you've been as bored by this year's "experimental" rock offerings as we have, let 'Is this a queue' restore your faith - it's that good.

Rat Heart’s debut album for Modern Love finds Tom Boogizm blurring genres with instinct and grit. Joined by Adam Sinclaire, Cansu Kandemir, Tha Payne, Ruby Conner and Juan Camilo, he weaves torch songs, DIY blues and cracked pop into something raw and compelling.

Opener ‘I H T’ sets the tone with its weary refrain and spectral flute, grounding the album’s mix of tenderness and unease. Kandemir’s smoky vocals glide through the ghostly shuffle of ‘Not 2Nite’ and ‘Senle’, while Ruby Conner’s spoken word adds bite to the funked-out ‘Real Hardcore Pleasure’. By the time Juan Camilo’s Spanish narration drifts through closer ‘IGOTDRONESINMYBONES’, the record has folded dream pop, post-punk and dub into a single, bruised vision.

A vivid, unclassifiable portrait of Northern soul, noise and nocturnal romance.

Riding the rails down to the past and back to the future, Eiko considers the unknown lives that her own family has lived, set to expansive pop travelogues evoking the work of pioneers like Joni and Scott Walker, while pushing further, always further....

“Great Doubt” is the third full length LP by Danish composer Astrid Sonne. Throughout her acclaimed discography, Astrid Sonne has been carefully crafting different moods through electronic and acoustic instrumental endeavours. On “Great Doubt” this skill is refined, now with the distinct addition of the composer's own vocal in front. The tone of each track is unmistakably Sonne’s, structured around contrasts through an impeccable sense of timing. Lyrics on the album are sparse, merely highlighting different scenes or emotional states of being, leaving the music to fill in the blanks. Yet they also form a pattern of ambiguity, consolidated through the album title, searching for answers through looking at how and what you are asking, questions for the world, questions of love. The viola, a trusted companion since Astrid Sonne’s youth, appears effortlessly throughout the album, fully integrated into the sonic universe; through a pizzicato driven arrangement in the poignant track “Almost” or along with booms and claps in mutated cinematic stabs during “Give my all”, paraphrasing Mariah Carey's 1997 ballad. Yet the string section also gives way to explorations of woodwinds, counterbalancing the bowed movements with digital brass and airy flutes. Finally, beats and detuned piano are fresh additions to the soundscape, cementing how Sonne’s practice is always evolving into new territories.

This austere song-cycle is a collection of tunes addressing youth, sexuality and human morays in an utterly unique fashion. Barely released in its day (1970), Corky's remains one of the pinnacles of excellence in the career of Mayo and his Red Krayola. ==== "I first heard the sudden unbelievable wave-rolling sound of this strange, acoustic, old time cartoon band singin 'I'm a student of human nature' in '94 in good ol' Memphis, TN. Played to me by a giant man with an exploding pillow of blond curls wearing overalls. Wot the fuck was this? I was 22 and getting a fast-paced indie rock education after dropping out of college mid-semester a few months earlier. Was I wasting my parents money when I called from the Blues City Cafe and told them I had moved across the country? Ah, yes it's true, I surely was. But here on the turntable was a suitable replacement for the out-of-state tuition throw to the breeze - a corduroy-professorial-erotic-swinger vibe pouring off a re-issued LP!? Who is this massively turned on man singing about Shakespeare? The picture of the man on the back said it all. I could not have imagined this existed at all. But wot does it sound like? To me, his record has sonic values of the 60's but sounds distinctively weirder than anything I've heard from that decade. And wot an incredible bit of luck there, on the decade's cusp." - Mike Donovan

Insignificance consists of rock plus multiple musical allusions, layers of discreet noises, great playing from all the players and, to top it off, funny pop tunes laced with lyrical arsenic. As the moving finger of O'Rourke points (and clicks...just kidding! Insignificance is an all-analog affair), moments will come and go -- to remind you of other moments. Moments will arrive that have no precedent. And different, conflicting emotions will flash within you. He'll have total control of you, the helpless listener.

The result of an 18-month residency in Rio de Janeiro, 'Só Ouço' distills classic Brazilian pop (think Gilberto Gil, Tom Zé and João Gilberto) into a sunbleached contemporary art-pop statement.

Genre-agnostic German-Spanish artist Wolfgang Pérez might not be Brazilian, but he's spent enough time in the country to at least come to terms with its rich musical history. He moved to Rio in 2022 on a university exchange to study composition, and extended his semester into three, learning the ropes under Brazilian masters Josimar Carneiro, Marcello Gonçalves and Almir Cortes. 'Só Ouço' emerged from jam sessions and shows around Rio with a cast of young players and it's surprisingly on-point material. Pérez was no doubt awed by his surroundings, and his collaborators help manage the tone precisely.

A live album by The Growth Eternal, the Tulsa-born, LA-based master of alternative R&B, arrives via the spiritual stronghold of the independent scene, Leaving Records. Infused with the sacred spirit of gospel, the deep wisdom of Black music, and the improvisational freedom of modern jazz, the album weaves these threads into a refined and intimate sonic tapestry. It resonates like the echo of a celebration reaching your bedroom—experimental soul music that balances warmth and grandeur. As the title suggests, the recording emanates the atmosphere of a private, heartfelt space, quietly glowing with presence.

Andrea Burelli unveils her latest work, 'Sonic Mystics for Poems (of Life and Death of a Phoenix).' Rooted in her autobiography and metaphorically intertwined with myth, this work opens a portal to a mystical perspective on life, seamlessly weaving into the tangible fabric of our vulnerable human existence.

Structured around Andrea's evocative poetry, the album delves into the profound complexities of being, navigating shadowy depths while basking in the illuminating light of life. Burelli's vocals traverse landscapes lost in the sands of time, capturing the essence of captivating sunsets, the boundless infinity of the sea, and imaginary lands teeming with magic.

The sonic journey unfolds across 15 meticulously crafted pieces, showcasing the virtuosity of esteemed violinist Mari Sawada and cellist Sophie Notte, distinguished members of the renowned Berlin ensemble Solistenensemble Kaleidoskop. Drawing inspiration from a diverse palette, including experimental electronica, classical, and Mediterranean music, the album orchestrates both simple and intricate polyrhythmic structures and harmonies influenced by classical and folk traditions. Burelli's flexible vocal range intertwines seamlessly with the emotive resonance of acoustic strings, the textured tones of FM synthesis, minimal Machinedrum kicks, and deep Moog Synths basslines.

"'Sonic Mystics for Poems' is a work that has taken on profound meaning for me," confides Andrea. “When I think of where this record developed, my memory leads me to my origins, the Mediterranean. Its waters are home to me." The album's thematic richness derives from the Mediterranean diverse cultural influences, from Southern Europe, to Middle East and North Africa. Her texts are filled with colors, an imagery derived from her past practice as a painter, in stark juxtaposition to her black and white analog videos, which portray an intimate world of symbols and poetic associations, leaving open to one’s interpretation the possibilities of their significance.

Central to the album is an imaginary journey of a phoenix, an invisible pilgrim guarding Burelli’s world of dreams, symbolizing rebirth and creative transformation in her own artistic evolution. : “Involuntarily, my poetry becomes symbolist, occasionally revealing confessional undertones." The album encapsulates change, with water as its elemental force, signifying beginnings, endings, and the eternal cycles that arise. Andrea Burelli's 'Sonic Mystics for Poems' beckons listeners to embark on a transformative journey, where the boundaries of genre dissolve, and the magic of music transcends into a realm of timeless resonance.

She concludes with a heartfelt wish echoing through the waves of her evocative melodies, saying “I dedicate this album to my sea. May the peoples of its shores one day coexist in peace."

One of the definitive albums of 2024, edited and remixed by close pals and admirers; Conrad Pack, ML Buch, Blood Orange, Valentina Magaletti, Lolina, Smerz, Slauson Malone, HVAD and more.

The judicious pick of editors render the downbeat charms and quietly reflective, penetrating lyrics of ‘Great Doubt’ into spaces faithful to, adjacent, and far removed from Astrid Sonne’s beloved originals. Variously teasing its baked in ingredients of chamber music, art-pop, and R&B from curious new perspectives, they range, for example, from the plonging industrial dub rework of ‘Boost’ by Conrad Pack, to a standout 12 minute expansion of ‘Light and Heavy’ along moonlit, Autechrian lines by an ever reliable HVAD, whereas avant R&B star Blood Orange emphasises the breezy soul of ‘Give My All’ is a bright, lustrous overhaul refreshed with tumescent art-pop harmonies, and ML Buch puckers ‘Overture’ to a sparkling whorl that highlights her collaborator’s instrumental tekkerz.

Valentina Magaletti (whose work rate, at this point, makes us wonder if she’s a tulpa) can be counted on for a dusted downbeat take on ‘Everything is Unreal’, and Lolina likewise reliably enhances the oddness of ‘Almost’ in her elusive way, whilst the likes of pop duo Smerz and Slauson Malone amplify Sonne’s infectiouus hooks with a dance-pop appeal.

'Skinned' is the debut album from Danish composer, producer and singer ML Buch. After releasing her debut EP Fleshy in 2017 ML Buch is ready with her first full-length album Skinned that takes her expansive guitar work and catchy melodies to another territory. With her unique experimental pop and vocals that seem to slide into your ears as fluorescent liquid, ML Buch portrays the reality of intimacy in a digital era. Working primarily with synthetic midi sounds, the general love of songwriting and guitar music is ever present. The album comes with an extensive visual side in the form of five music videos acting as tableaus that echo the encounter between screens and skin and how the senses wriggle, flutter and weave in and out of our online presence and intimate lives. As if in search for something real, ML Buch takes the listener on the other side of the skin. Led by tender love songs like I’m A Girl You Can Hold IRL and Can’t Get Over You With You we journey through her throat and into her intestines, discovering a fascinating realm of shiny mucus and bile in flesh and yellowish colors. Panoramic images were captured by a small pill camera travelling through the body of ML Buch and act as extentions of the architecture of the music. This literal way of internalizing modern technology is symbolic of Skinned where eclectic instrumental compositions share the space with strong hooks and ML Buch’s spherical voice.

Thirty-two artists honor the extraordinary legacy of Suzanne Langille through interpretations of her vast songbook. Langille is best known as an acclaimed avant garde singer-songwriter and collaborator of guitarist Loren Connors. They ventured into electrified blues and abstracted artsongs across more than a dozen albums since the mid-1980s.

Langille’s songs, with Connors, solo, or other collaborators, are marked by distinct and captivating depth. Her evocative lyrics, layered with themes of loss, longing, and the natural world, defy conventional boundaries, blending poetry with potent melodies. Her work embraces the uncertainty of life and the delicate spaces between joy and sorrow.

Langille’s first published composition — “Grip My Hand” — kicked off Connors’ 1990 album Rooms. As her songs began to dot more of Connors’ albums, she led the spontaneous blown-out rock band Haunted House and collaborated with the trio San Agustin. Later, she released two albums with daf-player Neel Murgai.

“Suzanne’s songwriting defies easy classification. She bypasses essay-style lyrics and unsubtle emotion. Instead, she dives into the tenuous spaces between life, the unknown, and the shades of uncertainty lingering in between,” Family Vineyard's Eric Weddle writes in the album liner notes. “That’s the magic of Suzanne’s songs. A melody rises and pulls you in, like the relentless undertow of the Long Island Sound.”

The Suzanne Langille Songbook features a diverse array of artists who reinterpret her music, showcasing its timeless and transformative power. 

O'Rourke does Ishibashi! This Imitiation is her western bow, plus also a progressive sci-fi pop album featuring the best playing on any albums released in Japan in 2012. New music, no matter in what year you hear it!

We are excited to present to the world the debut solo album by Lily Mullen. A songwriter / poet in her early 20s, residing in Northwest Oregon. Lily was born with Down Syndrome and is a fierce advocate for disability justice and other underrepresented voices. This album has a playful and magical quality - like found in the self-contained worlds of the Raincoats or the Slits. There are both rockers and ballads - with echoes of the Velvet Underground and Modern Lovers. Folky and poetic songs à la Patti Smith, Nico or Neil Young. Songs that vocally AND musically evoke Mark E Smith and The Fall. Of course, those are all just reference points! Lily’s voice is unique and original and forging new and beautiful artistic territory. Clever wordplay, cosmic themes, surrealist poetry, heart on sleeve laments, tearjerkers - this album has it all. Recorded at Sonic Lodge in Eugene, Oregon by Justin Higgins. Musical contributions from Chris Gunn (Lavender Flu), Miranda Soileau-Pratt (Spatulas), Scott Simmons (Lavender Flu), Kate Williams and Justin Higgins. Be wild. Be free. Experience Lily!

Colin Self travels to and from one realm to another on ∞ levity for the nameless ghost in crisis, the Berlin and New York-based artist’s third album, conjuring uncanny voices through their own singular singing style. Material and immaterial, fixities and fluidities, bodies and souls: such distinctions matter little in the looping, ever-crossing world of r∞L4nGc, where radiant, limitless beauty and boundless, inescapable terror are one and the same.

"My music is a landscape for you to enter your own journey," sings Luiza Lian's crystalline voice after the ceasing of a sonic collage that blends a lament on the keyboard, church bells, hummed vocals, distorted speeches, syncopated beats, and a striking bass line. "Minha Música" (My Music) is our first encounter with 7 Estrelas| quem arrancou o céu? (7 Stars | who tore off the sky?), the fourth album of the São Paulo-based artist, and her third collaboration with french/brazilian music producer Charles Tixier.

Nearly five years after the celebrated Azul Moderno, the duo returns to the scene they materialized before a period of darkness that rewrote Brazil's history. And this new visit pushes the boundaries even further with resources that the singer-songwriter had only started exploring on the previous record. The following tracks, "Tecnicolor" (featuring the only guest appearance on the album, as Luiza is joined by singer Céu) and "Homenagem" (Homage), continue to explore this new horizon, which becomes increasingly bizarre and deceptive.

In addition to layering noises and electronic elements over her musicality, Luiza also explores the range of her vocals by digitally distorting them. The first tracks are just the initial steps in this new work: a profound reflection on how we distort our lives based on false reflections we see both digitally in our use of social media and materially in an increasingly consumerist society. The new album recreates this artificial context in an almost caricatured way, deliberately exaggerated distortions to generate the estrangement we should feel towards the values we cherish and reject based on this false reality we force ourselves to believe in.

While Azul Moderno invited us on a journey of spiritual purification, now Luiza summons us to another voyage, one that confronts the darker side of our nature in songs that resonate with politics and mysticism without distinguishing one from the other, such as "Forca" (Force), "Cobras" (Snakes), and "Viajante" (Traveler), and then leads us towards the light in existentialist yet renewing songs ("Eu Estou Aqui" (I Am Here), "Desabriga" (Shelterless), "7 Estrelas" (7 Stars), and "Deságua" (Unleash)), making the end of the album more playful and lucid, hopeful and danceable as it concludes its reflection.

Composed in 2019 and reworked over four years, the album is another release from the RISCO label in partnership with ZZK Records and will be launched during a series of shows in August at Sesc Pompeia, performances in which Luiza delves even deeper into the exploration she proposed in the live version of her previous album. 

ZULI's widest-reaching and most ambitious album to date, 'Lambda' is a conspicuous left turn for the Berlin-based Egyptian producer. Draped in gauzy, granulated textures and woven with enigmatic vocal flourishes from collaborators MICHAELBRAILEY, Coby Sey and Abdullah Miniawy, it's a vivid, soul-searching set of polychromatic reflections that sets fire to the boundaries between ambient, trip-hop, industrial music, chamber pop and symphonic noise. In some aspects, 'Lambda' reveals ZULI's softer side; gone are the earth-shaking chopped rhythms and stop-start outbursts of corroded static that characterized his last full length, 'Digla Dive - Live'. But peer beneath the brain burrowing vocal melodies, mangled instrumental loops, anxious poems and subtle, harmonic synth washes and a new kind of intensity lurks in the shadows. Since his early releases on Lee Gamble's UIQ label and his 2018 breakout 'Trigger Finger', ZULI has notched up major global acclaim for his futuristic, kinetic musical diversions. He cut his teeth supplying beats to local rappers back home in Cairo, soon shifting his attention to the city's burgeoning dance underground, promoting events, DJing prolifically and tirelessly supporting the scene's most experimental fringe. In 2019, ZULI teamed up with Rama to curate the irsh series of video transmissions, evolving the project into a label shortly afterwards. And now situated in Berlin, the duo have extended the concept to encompass an ongoing sequence of genre-averse club nights. All this experience and constant creative motion is etched into the foundations of 'Lambda'. It's an album that plays liberally with euphoria, but feels constantly precarious, intrepidly peering out from its tense internal world. Lead single '10000 (Papercut pt. 1)' is one of the album's most unexpected cuts, featuring a soaring falsetto vocal from Hamburg-based British composer and performer MICHAELBRAILEY. "What do I have to show for it?" he asks suggestively, while ZULI replies with seismic bass rumbles and celestial, harp-like chimes. Building towards a crippling, dense crescendo, the track is among the weightiest ZULI's ever produced, replacing his signature beats with industrial metal drones and razor-sharp electronics. Brailey also shows up on the symphonic 'Syzygy', singing sweetly until he stretches his voice into mutant echoes, augmenting the chorals with powdery, granulated hisses and surreal piano phrases. On 'Plateau' meanwhile, ZULI works alongside virtuosic multi-instrumentalist and singer Abdullah Miniawy, who calls to the heavens as digitally pulverized strings quiver in the background. And cult British artist Coby Sey adds his unmistakable tones to 'Ast', mouthing tense, thoughtful words over mangled music box jingles and ecstatic pads. When he's not straddled by his collaborators through, ZULI is free to make some of his most personal gestures. He fashions a phantasmic, pitch-fluxed robotic croon on 'Trachea', curving it around half-speed hip-hop clacks and cinematic drones, then driving it into walls of impermeable noise on 'The Horn'. And the album's most revealing moment comes with the short 'Fahsil Qusseer', when ZULI recites a poem written by his father. Stretching his voice and a tape-saturated break like elastic, ZULI mimics the emotional push-and-pull of the protagonist, who overcomes their anxiety to escape into the outside world, only to retreat immediately back to the safety of solitude. The track puts the whole of 'Lambda' into sharp focus - through the walls of noise and exuberant, intoxicating waves of ambience, ZULI finds solace in limbo between the manic extremes.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive.The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic.Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth.Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars — alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring — ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album – a winding, alllllmost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile – is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical — and ultimately as forgiving — of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death.Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree, California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness.Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that — typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be — somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith — if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it’s worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound — the feeling! — of the bricks giving way.

Opened up by the delirious alchemy of contemporary pop music, Sean O’Hagan leaps back into life with High Llamas, with a set of killer tunes reflecting on dimensional levels how definitions change over time. Arranged by Sean and produced with mix collaborator Fryars to engage the eardrums in non-stop new possibilities, Hey Panda radiates optimism inspired by the joys and sorrows felt in former lifetimes and the diverse conundrums of today alike.

Diamanda Galás In Concert is not simply a live album. With nothing but a piano and the full expressive range of her extraordinary voice, Diamanda Galás strips away the comforting patina of time, tradition and stylistic convention to expose and express the raw human emotion that is the living heart of a song. It explores an eclectic range of material; rembetika, soul, ranchera, country and free jazz, and her passionate eviscerations reveal their hidden kinship. Four of the songs-O Prósfigas, La Llorona, Let My People Go, and Ánoixe Pétra are for and by the forsaken, outcast and debased; the other three are hardboiled love songs. '...In Concert' features select recordings taken from performances at Thalia Hall in Chicago, and Neptune Theatre in Seattle from 2017. The songs are drawn from disparate sources. Diamanda is of Maniati Greek and Middle-Eastern Greek/Egyptian origin, but she was born near the border of San Diego and Mexico,hearing the corridos, ranchera, and ballades daily, so the album draws deeply from both sources. Crucial to her performance are song types with ancient roots, primarily the amané, a vocal improvisation of Anatolian Greek origin. Amanés can be defined as a last prayer to the mother by a dying soldier, with the word amané itself possibly deriving from the Greek word mana, mother. Echoes of amanés can be heard in the Adhan, the Islamic call to prayer, but in origin it is a primal lament, expressing grief and loss. The origins of the amané are archaic; its spirit is urgent and timeless.