MUSIC

Blood Blood Song continues East of the Valley Blues’ streak of sublime, future-forward acoustic fantasias. For years, the Toronto-based duo, comprised of brothers Kevin and Patrick Cahill, has excelled at an earthy and pensive brand of instrumental music inspired by notions of folk music as a global, rather than regional, idiom. While the duo’s elegant and unassuming virtuosity easily distinguishes East of the Valley Blues from its contemporaries of would-be Bashos and fledgling Faheys, it is the group’s telepathic improv that provides the certain x-factor that ultimately sets it apart from its peers. Throughout Blood Blood Song, Kevin Cahill’s percussive, prepared nylon string guitar---occasionally evoking the sound of a begena—remains in constant conversation with his brother Patrick’s nimble steel string abstractions. Though the stereo separation places the brothers on opposite corners of the stereo field—Kevin mostly on the right and Patrick mostly on the left—the two guitars often create the illusion of appearing to meet in the middle, where they blend into a single, dynamic sound. Blood Blood Song is an album of uncommon intimacy and grace. Of music that doesn’t so much develop as unspool. Music that blooms. - James Toth / Wooden Wand

Blood Blood Song continues East of the Valley Blues’ streak of sublime, future-forward acoustic fantasias. For years, the Toronto-based duo, comprised of brothers Kevin and Patrick Cahill, has excelled at an earthy and pensive brand of instrumental music inspired by notions of folk music as a global, rather than regional, idiom. While the duo’s elegant and unassuming virtuosity easily distinguishes East of the Valley Blues from its contemporaries of would-be Bashos and fledgling Faheys, it is the group’s telepathic improv that provides the certain x-factor that ultimately sets it apart from its peers. Throughout Blood Blood Song, Kevin Cahill’s percussive, prepared nylon string guitar---occasionally evoking the sound of a begena—remains in constant conversation with his brother Patrick’s nimble steel string abstractions. Though the stereo separation places the brothers on opposite corners of the stereo field—Kevin mostly on the right and Patrick mostly on the left—the two guitars often create the illusion of appearing to meet in the middle, where they blend into a single, dynamic sound. Blood Blood Song is an album of uncommon intimacy and grace. Of music that doesn’t so much develop as unspool. Music that blooms. - James Toth / Wooden Wand

To mark 50-years since a 22 year old Michael Gregory Jackson recorded his groundbreaking first release, "CLARITY / CIRCLE / TRIANGLE / SQUARE", recorded with the mind blowing group of his contemporaries Oliver Lake, David Murray and Leo Smith. This album is like no other I know, a new world, finding a perfect balance between multiple genres. Moved-By- Sound is very excited and honored to be involved in releasing the first reissue authorized by Michael Gregory Jackson since the original release in 1976. Remastered and restored, it is a perfect album in which to lose and/or find yourself in these complicated times.

To mark 50-years since a 22 year old Michael Gregory Jackson recorded his groundbreaking first release, "CLARITY / CIRCLE / TRIANGLE / SQUARE", recorded with the mind blowing group of his contemporaries Oliver Lake, David Murray and Leo Smith. This album is like no other I know, a new world, finding a perfect balance between multiple genres. Moved-By- Sound is very excited and honored to be involved in releasing the first reissue authorized by Michael Gregory Jackson since the original release in 1976. Remastered and restored, it is a perfect album in which to lose and/or find yourself in these complicated times.

Aspen is very proud to introduce ‘Non Sonett’ by the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble.
 This ensemble is a pioneering Norwegian chamber group whose work on ECM and Hubro has redefined the boundaries between jazz, contemporary composition and folk music. 
Across seven albums, the ensemble has developed a highly distinctive language built on restraint, timbral nuance and collective interplay, placing it among the most influential European ensembles of the 21st century. Bringing together some of the finest musicians in Norway, the ensemble draws on a rare collective sensitivity, where each player contributes to a deeply integrated and texturally rich sound world. Non Sonett
 With Non Sonett, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble opens a new chapter that grows directly out of recent years of work in more solitary and cross-disciplinary contexts. In this period, Wallumrød has developed material for solo performance as well as for dance, allowing ideas to take shape in more fluid and exploratory formats. Some of this material now finds its way into the ensemble, where it is met by the possibilities offered by instrumentation, collective playing, and the distinct voices of the musicians. At the same time, older pieces—originating in entirely different settings—re-emerge here in new forms, reshaped by the ensemble context. A defining aspect of Non Sonett is the way many of the pieces function less as fully determined compositions and more as open frameworks: starting points, suggestions, or “springboards” for music. These structures invite response rather than prescribe outcome, relying on the ensemble’s inherent sensitivity and capacity to realize and transform the material in performance. The result is music that feels both precise and fluid, shaped in equal measure by composition and by the interpretative presence of the players. Central to this album is a continued deepening of Wallumrød’s long-standing interest in ambiguity and in dissolving boundaries between different musical elements and expressive worlds. By placing contrasting materials and associations side by side—sometimes subtly, sometimes more overtly—the music opens up spaces where meanings remain fluid and interconnected. On Non Sonett, this approach is taken a step further, allowing these juxtapositions to play an even more active role in shaping the music’s character and flow. This approach connects closely with the ensemble’s broader artistic trajectory. Over time, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble has developed a language that is immediately recognizable—marked by reduction, clarity and a deep attention to sonic detail. While each release has its own character, the underlying aesthetic remains consistent: a focus on the inner life of sound itself. Rather than foregrounding gesture or virtuosity, the music draws the listener toward the smallest elements, where meaning emerges gradually through texture, spacing and timbre. The listening experience becomes one of concentration and proximity, where each sound carries weight, and the accumulation of detail forms a larger whole. References may be sensed—to early polyphonic music, Norwegian folk traditions, or more recent experimental practices—but these are absorbed into a singular musical language that resists categorization. As with the ensemble’s recent work, Non Sonett also continues the integration of electronics as a fundamental part of the sound world. Each musician engages with electronic elements alongside their acoustic instruments, creating a layered and dynamic sonic environment. At times, this leads into extended, exploratory passages reminiscent of analogue musique concrète; at others, electronics operate almost imperceptibly, subtly altering and extending the acoustic textures in real time.

Vind is 12 pieces written and performed by CTM and produced by Jakob Littauer. The album consists of cello compositions with few exceptions - a daf enhancing the rhythm, a distant memory of the kora, a pensive flute or folly sounds. The softness of the acoustic instruments is counterplayed by concise compositions and hyperreal productions. The music presents itself as part spirit, part form; the movement in the moment, repetition, anticipation, what happened and what is to come. It's a sensuous search into stretched out moments, captured and held in one’s hand for a little while. It finds play and devotion, love and light. Dedicated to Jannis Noya Makrigiannis

‘Desire’ is the sophomore full-length album by TLF Trio. On ‘Desire’, the group presents their signature, contemporised chamber music through their main instruments: piano, cello and electric guitar; now enhanced by a pervasive use of sampling and a distinct use of silence as musical material.

The album is an aesthetic voyage in a musical landscape of minimalism, classical music, free improvisation, left-field-electronica, and references to pop and house music. It blends into a sound that is experimental and unpredictable – yet at the same time strangely familiar and self-explanatory.

The album’s ten pieces balance an open-ended improvisational intimacy with a tight compositional intention. Each track's repetitiveness operates as a trickling plateau of layered sentiments of times and spaces through the sampling of different acoustic rooms, the playing in specific styles and the curated selection of sounds and instrumentations; a collage of memories and associations patched together to create new meanings.

Folds of water sanctify the river. Tracing soft, cool hands, the tall oak make way for a child who is older now. The moon gives chase, as clouds attempt to climb her. And choiceless, she falls through, further out of sight. An episodic, dreamlike place; Headwater is an invitation to explore what is fundamental to life – as if asking the listener; what, after losing my compass, is the nature of my experience? The headwater is the childhood of the stream – its beginning. And as though banished from the safety, innocence and purity of this place, the individual is carried through rapids, gashed and sawn, calling for the self to be woven again. In these early moments, the poignancy of this venture is felt in droves – a woman lost in the forest trying to find a way out, silhouette skating through light while something approaches, further out of sight. Everyone is thrown out of childhood – hurled into a life to make sense of something which lives on in memory. The mind catches fragments, painted by ink found in the canals of the veins and rivers within – their headwater, the heart. Like tentacles beneath our skin, their message arrives unannounced, while a great struggle embarks to keep them at bay – the clarity of their awareness polluted. After a time, the river is older now. The forest’s foliage has tuned, sculpted and moulded her – so much so, that the water is barely recognisable. But the girl is no fool, and her sensitivity will not be auctioned. Catching glimpses of the headwater – she cries out to the forest and the valley. This time, unafraid of the pain it wears and hides behind, pretending. She sings to the eclipse, crying for the stars and their breath on the river’s back. Calling for the animals, insects and fish - bowing to the scent of the pine in the evening warmth of the air, weeping to the memory of her childhood, she comes alive. Only in such a surrender does the headwater of her tears make itself known, and all that is longed for arise without having ever been lost. Could she really be creating all of it? And like a child with a boundless imagination, be confusing her role in the play with the candid, honest face of life itself? Humility might yet speak – claiming all she has taken herself to be as the leaves and foliage which pollute and fragment the stream. That a quest to return to childhood is an unnecessary one – because the currents which begun at the headwater still contain, at every step of the river, the headwater itself. And that the cries and memories heard starkly through the forest valley have still come from the deepest waterways the body has pronounced. And so, originate in the heart – and are no threat.

"Four Corners" is a compilation that showcases the various facets of American West Coast minimalist composer Jeff Bruner, with pieces from the 1970s to the 2020s displaying a cohesive set of aesthetic concerns. Bruner has a kinship with the composers Harold Budd and Daniel Lentz, the latter being a mentor to Bruner, and one can hear a relationship with the music of other minimal/post-minimal composers such as John Adams and Terry Riley. 1979’s “Magic Mbira”, a key piece in this collection, particularly highlights a Riley-esque element, and with its skillful use of tape delays reminiscent of Lenz's "cascading echo system." Bruner and his mbira piece also have musical affinities with Roland P. Young and his classic Isophonic Boogie Woogie, in their shared melodic and structural concerns, as well as a desire to perform their compositions in a wider range of performance spaces, away from traditional recital halls. Another side of Bruner is revealed in the funhouse-mirror “Reggae Foes”, a deconstructionist calypso-reggae tune and skewed Black Ark filtered through Cunningham/Toop’s General Strike. The remaining two pieces are melancholy beauties of solo instrumentation: “Cold Rain and Snow” is a fretless gut-string banjo re-imagining of an American folk song; “Remembrance in a Pale Room” is a lovely piano piece dedicated to Lentz. Bruner has built upon a tradition, altering and adding to it with his individual vision, giving us this collection of intriguing and beautiful music. Available on CD/Vinyl/Digital, and the physical version includes E/J liner notes by Jeff Bruner, rare photos & the score for "Magic Mbira”. ----------------------------------------- "I first came across Jeff’s mysterious "Reggae Foes" 45 in the mid-2000s at the legendary Logos book/record store in Santa Cruz, California (RIP) - the kind of generic sleeve and label that gives you nothing more than a font and some scant shards of text to go by (luckily this text was “A Flying Saucer Came Down and Burnt My Baby's Neck”). What I heard upon bringing it home felt like some kind of alternate-timeline post punk calypso, unknowingly adjacent to the deconstructions occurring at the Black Ark or in David Cunningham’s early productions. When I finally talked to Jeff many years later, I was even more surprised to learn that he was also entrenched in southern California’s post-minimalist composer scene in the 1970s alongside many of my compositional heroes, work which this compilation presents for the first time. Couldn’t think of a better place for it to be transmitted from than EM!" (Spencer Doran/Visible Cloaks)

"Four Corners" is a compilation that showcases the various facets of American West Coast minimalist composer Jeff Bruner, with pieces from the 1970s to the 2020s displaying a cohesive set of aesthetic concerns. Bruner has a kinship with the composers Harold Budd and Daniel Lentz, the latter being a mentor to Bruner, and one can hear a relationship with the music of other minimal/post-minimal composers such as John Adams and Terry Riley. 1979’s “Magic Mbira”, a key piece in this collection, particularly highlights a Riley-esque element, and with its skillful use of tape delays reminiscent of Lenz's "cascading echo system." Bruner and his mbira piece also have musical affinities with Roland P. Young and his classic Isophonic Boogie Woogie, in their shared melodic and structural concerns, as well as a desire to perform their compositions in a wider range of performance spaces, away from traditional recital halls. Another side of Bruner is revealed in the funhouse-mirror “Reggae Foes”, a deconstructionist calypso-reggae tune and skewed Black Ark filtered through Cunningham/Toop’s General Strike. The remaining two pieces are melancholy beauties of solo instrumentation: “Cold Rain and Snow” is a fretless gut-string banjo re-imagining of an American folk song; “Remembrance in a Pale Room” is a lovely piano piece dedicated to Lentz. Bruner has built upon a tradition, altering and adding to it with his individual vision, giving us this collection of intriguing and beautiful music. Available on CD/Vinyl/Digital, and the physical version includes E/J liner notes by Jeff Bruner, rare photos & the score for "Magic Mbira”. ----------------------------------------- "I first came across Jeff’s mysterious "Reggae Foes" 45 in the mid-2000s at the legendary Logos book/record store in Santa Cruz, California (RIP) - the kind of generic sleeve and label that gives you nothing more than a font and some scant shards of text to go by (luckily this text was “A Flying Saucer Came Down and Burnt My Baby's Neck”). What I heard upon bringing it home felt like some kind of alternate-timeline post punk calypso, unknowingly adjacent to the deconstructions occurring at the Black Ark or in David Cunningham’s early productions. When I finally talked to Jeff many years later, I was even more surprised to learn that he was also entrenched in southern California’s post-minimalist composer scene in the 1970s alongside many of my compositional heroes, work which this compilation presents for the first time. Couldn’t think of a better place for it to be transmitted from than EM!" (Spencer Doran/Visible Cloaks)

Saxophonist and composer Jasmine Myra presents nine beautiful and powerfully grounded compositions that express her ruminations on life, growth, and progression, powered by the artist’s vision of duality. “It’s those bittersweet moments which are heart-breaking but so important. Looking forward and trying to make sense of life,” she says. “Pain is unavoidable, and you’ll have hardship no matter what, but you don’t grow or learn about yourself or the world around you without it. The duality is the growth and coming out the other side. I had the concept from the start.” Jasmine Myra’s verdant musical vision and talent for instrumental storytelling came to life over five days, with her long-standing ensemble gathering in one room at The Nave studios in Leeds with the addition of a string section – all recorded live. Myra had crossed paths with Ancient Infinity Orchestra bandleader Ozzy Moysey before she moved from Leeds to London, often attending and playing at the same jam sessions. This made him the perfect choice to conduct the 13-piece band, freeing her up to bring maximum tenderness and elegiac tones to the alto sax lines she’d written. Her own playing sits deliberately within each track, never flying above. Instead, it wraps gently around precision melodies she wrote for strings, piano, flute, guitar, vibraphone, and harp which themselves furl and unfurl gorgeously around tenor sax, double bass, drums, and percussion. Melodies that sparkle like sunlight on water.

Chaz Prymek and Matthew Sage are old friends; after a spate of duo releases in the late 2010s and early 2020s, this is their first proper full length duo release in six years. Those six years have been busy for both artists; they are the primary songwriters in their project Fuubutsushi with Patrick Shiroishi and Chris Jusell, Prymek is busy with his Lake Mary project, along with being a curator and organizer in Salt Lake, Sage has had a string of albums on RVNG, as well as juggling being a professor, a parent, a gardener, and an artist in Northern Colorado. They both spent part of that time wandering the Midwest, but both share deep roots in the Mountain West, in Colorado and Utah. Shelter sees the duo settling back into the wide landscapes of where they come from, and also where they are going. These were the first recordings made in the pole barn studio Sage set up in rural Colorado in 2022. Slowly and gently layered with sparse overdubs – yearning slide guitar, accordion, clarinet, recorder, delicate synthesizers – and sateen production treatments, the core of the album is a series of first take live improvisations with Prymek on electric guitar and Sage on piano. The album feels like sitting on a porch with an old friend and a warm cup of coffee while you catch up and talk about the good and the bad with a smile. Gentle and hymn-like, deeply melodious and patient. Channeling a humble spirit looking out on a majestic scene, things feel airy and pastoral, spacious and patient but a little tousled, windblown, chapped. Prymek and Sage have a long and wide catalog together, but something about Shelter feels like a new chapter and a benchmark for both of their practices containing the influence of years of sonic and artistic explorations, immense life changes, cross country moves, and all the warmth a sunbeam can bring along the way.

Flur is the trio of Austrian-Ethiopian harpist Miriam Adefris, British saxophonist Isaac Robertson, and percussionist Dillon Harrison. Formed after years of playing in various configurations around London’s Goldsmiths scene and collaborating with artists such as Ganavya, Floating Points, Gal Go, and Shabaka, the group crystallised during sessions at Riverside Recording Studios and a South Bermondsey warehouse.

Plunge captures their debut outing—a fluid, exploratory collection that moves between composed sections and spontaneous improvisation. Drawing on free jazz, ambient, and contemporary classical influences, their sound recalls Alice Coltrane, Ambrose Akinmusire, Kaija Saariaho, Azimuth, and Angel Bat Dawid, balancing intimacy with vastness through a distinctive instrumental palette of harp, sax, and percussion.

Released on Latency, home to records by Nidia & Valentina, Emahoy Tsege-Mariam Gebru, goat (jp), Tarta Relena, and Moritz Von Oswald, Plunge continues the label’s commitment to exploratory and genre-defying music. The album features cover art by New York-based, Ethiopian-American artist Julie Mehretu, whose abstract, multi-layered cartographies echo the trio’s entangled, searching sound.

Mapache presents the first solo album by Tim Bernardes, singer and composer of Brazilian band 0 Terno. A magical Chamber Pop album that can be totally explained with just a word. Beauty. Sao Paulo talented jack-of all trades, Tim Bernardes Recomegar shines exquisitely from head to toe. So, cut off the overheads, turn on a lamp or light a candle, perhaps some incense, and listen to it. Might we suggest starting with “Quis Mudar” a breathtaking folk song punctuated by crystalline eruptions of strings and horns. Bernardes’ voice is truly next level. – J. Steele, Aquarium Drunkard

アルバムについて I first encountered Pascal Comelade’s music thirty years ago—and nothing has sounded quite the same since. I was immediately captivated: he is an artist like no other, whose sincere and selfless love of music is always evident, especially in his tender reworkings of other people’s songs. Comelade seems to work like a watchmaker: meticulous, precise, and obsessive—yet always drifting into something dreamlike. His music opens hidden doors, telling strange and beguiling stories filled with obscurity, kindness, and reserved humour. Back then, my fascination was instinctive. Today, with a few more words at my disposal, I look to this exceptional 70-year-old French musician and feel exactly the same pull. Métaphysique Du Hit-Parade is the first vinyl compilation devoted to Pascal Comelade’s favourite cover versions. It spans a forty-year career and traces sixty years of rock and roll history along the way. “Sheena Is a Punk Rocker” becomes a soft, soothing lullaby that may well have made the Ramones weep. Then there are his idiosyncratic tributes to Jonathan Richman (“Egyptian Reggae”) and The Kinks (“Sunny Afternoon”), alongside nods to formative heroes such as The Gun Club, Captain Beefheart, and MC5. Two exclusive recordings stand out particularly: Bob Dylan’s “Girl from the North Country” and Nirvana’s “Come As You Are”—a song that shaped my early youth. Both were recorded especially for this release. Jan Lankisch, January 2026

アルバムについて On Dreams ’24 / ’25, Scottish composer Bill Wells turns his nocturnal imagination into a sequence of delicate musical miniatures. The album brings together 24 short pieces, most of them under two minutes, unfolding in just under half an hour like a quietly drifting dream diary. The album is split into two parts. On the Dreams 2024 side, Norman Blake lends his voice to Wells’ dream-born melodies. Blake, best known as a founding member of Teenage Fanclub, recorded the songs with Wells in a single afternoon at his home, capturing their fragile immediacy in direct and unadorned performances. For Dreams 2025, Aby Vulliamy — one of Yorkshire’s best kept musical secrets — takes over vocal duties. In mid 2025, Wells sent her a batch of demos; Vulliamy recorded them at home and sent them back to him. The result is a second chapter that feels more introspective, intimate and gently surreal. The songs themselves are born directly from dreams. Wells wakes from the dream, records it on his mobile and later shapes it into a brief, lyrical composition. One piece, Mackenzie’s Return, was inspired by a dream in which Elvis Costello marched through the streets of a suburban town complaining that he had run out of song ideas, a detail that perfectly captures the album’s blend of humour, strangeness and quiet melancholy. Dreams ’24 / ’25 is not a collection of fully formed pop songs, but rather a series of fleeting emotional snapshots: soft voices, simple motifs, and melodies that appear and vanish before they can fully settle. It is an album that rewards close listening, inviting the listener into a private, half-lit space somewhere between memory and imagination. The album features striking cover artwork by Annabel Wright.

Welcome to the world of Edward Blankman, a retired dentist who wrote elegant, minimalist jazz in obscurity circa 1970.

At least that’s the story. In truth, Edward Blankman’s Cape Cod Cottage is the 2021 concept album from Echo Park composer Brendan Eder.

A tender, wistful follow up to 2020’s To Mix With Time, the Cape Cod Cottage sound evokes the spirit of Erik Satie, Miles Davis with Gil Evans, and Stevie Wonder, balanced with the accessibility of 1960s lounge-exotica.

Eder created Blankman’s story to channel his own grief, with bittersweet tenderness. Read the liner notes (or watch the mini-doc), and you’ll be transported to the quiet shores of Cape Cod, where a lonely retiree mourns his late wife, Natalie, with walks in nature and evenings at his Wurlitzer.

The story is brought to life with a meticulously crafted package sporting classic liner notes, faux 1970s photographs documenting Edward with the musicians (taken during the actual session), a make-believe jazz label, and a commissioned oil painting of Edward’s cottage.

Eder brought together a dream line up with a ton of chemistry for the project; drummer Christian Euman (Jacob Collier), saxophonist Josh Johnson (Jeff Parker, Leon Bridges), and bassist Alex Boneham (Billy Childs), who all studied together at the Hancock Institute of Jazz. Rounding out the group is flutist Sarah Robinson, a recurring player in Eder’s ensemble, and Edward Blankman (Brendan) on the Wurlitzer.

The cast was booked for a single date with coveted engineer Michael Harris (Kamasi Washington, Angel Olsen) at famed Electro-Vox Recording Studios. To create realism for Edward’s story, the charts were purposefully withheld from the musicians until they arrived at the studio. The result is an authentic and natural performance delivered by players at the top of their game, captured on lauded vintage equipment including the legendary Neve-8028 console.

Cape Cod Cottage will be released on September 10th including a gatefold vinyl.

On Nocturnes, Jesse Hackett steps into the shadows, unveiling a deeply personal album of spectral piano and gothic chamber pieces. The record channels a sense of lingering unease and creeping dread and signals a new direction in Hackett’s unpredictable oeuvre. We were delighted when Jesse reached out to propose a collaboration on what he described as his most personal work to date. Written and produced during a particularly difficult period, Nocturnes plunges the listener into a beautifully eerie world of rain-soaked twilight jazz and gothic chamber music. Reminiscent of the soundtrack to an imagined Giallo thriller or Hammer Horror film, the album is deeply cinematic and evocative, conjuring unsettling mental images: shapeless presences lingering at the edges of uneasy dreams, candlelight casting wavering shadows, and unspeakable secrets hidden in the run-down bars and lounges of London’s bohemian underbelly. For Nocturnes, Jesse returns to the piano as his primary means of expression and collaborates with saxophonist and flautist Finn Peters. Together, they channel spirits summoned during late nights listening to the works of Erik Satie, Maurice Ravel, Olivier Messiaen, and the jazz lineage of Bill Evans and Charles Mingus. The album is released on 27th February 2026 in a limited edition of 250 copies - black vinyl in a reverse board sleeve. Jesse Hackett is a London-based multi-instrumentalist, producer, and songwriter renowned as a musical chameleon, shifting style and mood while working across genres. He is best known as a longtime live keyboard and synthesizer player for Gorillaz, contributing to their performances and recordings from 2010 to 2022. Alongside this, he has been involved in a wide array of globe-spanning projects, including the Afro-Futurist ensembles Owiny Sigoma Band, Ennanga Vision, and Nyege Nyege Tapes favourites Metal Preyers and Teeth Agency. In parallel, he has released warped synth-funk under the name Elmore Judd and forms one half of the experimental pop production duo Blludd Relations.

Whitney Johnson, Lia Kohl, and Macie Stewart are a trio who utilize string instruments, voices, and manual tape effect processing to craft compositions from alternately tranquil and disquieting improvised music. The three musicians are individually rooted in deep sound exploration, multi-disciplinary composition, and all manner of cross-genre collaboration. The musical ground covered by their solo practices is correspondingly expansive, and their individual recording and performance credits read as a veritable who’s who, ranging from DIY darlings to household names of experimental avant-garde, electronic, indie rock, and more.

The trio’s collective sound is based in improvisation—automatic, intuitive composition via their three voices and three string instruments (viola, cello, and violin, respectively). Their influences are vast—dispatched with more playful ease than a trio of string instruments is typically approached with, and just as likely to be found in the cloud-obscured mountains of Donegal, the low-rent cacophony of a midwestern basement, or the revelatory expanse of the Nurse With Wound list as in the storied halls of the academy. Touchstones and areas of interest aside, the main thing that Johnson, Kohl, and Stewart engage with in BODY SOUND is listening and reacting.

“Improvisation has a special capacity to facilitate a kind of sonic intimacy,” says Kohl. “We're making choices together in the moment. We're creating time together before thought enters the equation. It's an incredibly intimate and intuitive space to share, and feels like the heart center of this music and this practice.”

The trio’s approach to improvisation is very much embedded in and informed by their Chicago music community. The city’s ongoing improvised music tradition, which can envelop every genre imaginable, is one where a working musician’s ideas can evolve at a near-constant pace and where anything can be explored in the name of sound. And with sound, there’s always space to consider.

Where will the improvisation take place?

How will that space shape the sounds being made?

How will that sound resonate in the dim light of a small neighborhood bar?

How will it sound in the chromatic refractions of an ornate church?

Can it feel different-yet-equally perfect?

For Whitney Johnson, Lia Kohl, and Macie Stewart the answer to the last question is yes, definitely.

Stewart: Our quest as a crew is to explore space and every iteration of what that can mean, be it physical space, emotional space, sonic space, etc. Space is an instrument.

Johnson: It’s more than the acoustic properties of the recording spaces. Our bodies, emotions, and relationships show up in those spaces with affordances and limitations for the music each time. We are vibrating beings, sensitive and expressive, an amoeba of physical and psychic pressures with specific resonances in time and space.

Kohl: The space we’re in always feels like a collaborator in this trio more than in other contexts. I can always feel us all responding to where we are and the resonances that live there.”

On BODY SOUND, the trio worked with International Anthem engineer and album co-producer Dave Vettraino to translate the sonic specificities of three recording locations: International Anthem studios on Iron Street (Chicago), Shirk Studios (Chicago), and Boyd’s Jig and Reel (Knoxville, TN, as part of Big Ears Festival). Vettraino also brought a deep knowledge of tape manipulation and a willingness to experiment. “All it took was for one of us to say, ‘What if that was a loop?’, and he was already setting up the reel-to-reel,” says Johnson of the album’s post-production, which leaned heavily into their shared love of saturated tape sounds.

That trust, it seems, was already there. In addition to the communal criss-cross inherent in sharing their Chicago home base, the trio worked with Vettraino on Stewart’s 2025 solo effort When the Distance Is Blue. It was her debut on International Anthem but far from her first appearance in the label’s catalog as a player. Ditto for Kohl and Johnson, whose collaboration and friendship with the label goes back years. Taken as a whole, we could argue that this most recent collaboration, the tape-manipulated fried beauty documented on BODY SOUND, has been a long time coming.

In the context of this work, tape sound is much more than a mixing treatment or a production tactic. Here Johnson, Kohl, and Stewart are using variations on the medium to edit and reshape the pieces themselves, employing multiple analog tape machines to reimagine their improvised material into meticulously crafted compositions (“another layer of improvisation,” says Stewart). It’s all a response to the spaces they were originally engaged with, and the use of a highly physical medium like analog tape deepens the spatial engagement of the trio’s work to striking, playful, and organically psychedelic effect.

The resultant BODY SOUND is deep, melancholy, and triumphant, coming across like a kind of lost or amalgamated folk music. It’s certainly part of an ongoing creative continuum, even boasting track titles adapted from Yoko Ono’s classic book of text scores Grapefruit.

The album’s opener “dawn | pulse” puts a morning drone at the threshold of their sound world. This undulating slow roller is a free time drift of bowed tonal clusters respiring in long, melodic swells, and unfurling among wordless singing. Despite the time marker in the title, this piece feels suitable for any part of the day—the morning stretch skyward, the afternoon ambling respite, or the late-nite chillout. Both majorly serene and deceptively avant garde, “dawn | pulse” is a perfect entrée into BODY SOUND.

“laundry | blood” begins with a near-waltz percussive tumble created by a tape loop of Kohl’s barrette-prepared cello. Its soft and eerie triplet propels a deep and snarling viola-cello-violin drone forward à la the doomiest moments of the Berlin School canon or the repetitive outsider glory of Tony Conrad & Faust's Outside the Dream Syndicate. It’s a darkly cinematic take on the ambient ideal for the scarcely visible slow-moving night train chug. You can almost see it roll by.

Some moments feel intentionally disconnected from the performance, instead tied more closely to the concept of LP format listenership: the disintegrated melodic pumps and clomps of “chewing gum”, the body shaking radiator hiss come-apart of “snow | touch”, the otherworldly bass and sub-bass of “stone | piece”.

Across the album’s 11 tracks, each piece manages to keep a foot in both worlds. “burning | counting (sleeping)” begins abruptly with massive bursts of heavily-bowed sawtooth strings looping in real time, creating a near-synthetic feeling. Deep stutter-step freneticism, tape-manipulated and rendered into overlapping moments of dense psychedelia give way to an oncoming long-note tranquility—an improvised cacophony evoking some long dissipated storm-paced Irish folk drone more so than a New Music exercise or a study of Kronos / Reich.

And that seems to be the story with all of the material within BODY SOUND. It’s music with inexplicably broad appeal while maintaining a sort of mysterious outsider quality. Johnson, Kohl, and Stewart have created a stunning album—an exquisitely textured, spatially vivid, wordlessly expressive, sonically multitudinous collection—that manages to decode a slew of high level concepts while clearly and directly speaking to the human impulse. BODY SOUND is right.

Extra Stars is a deeply beautiful expression of Gregory Uhlmann’s ever-evolving sound world, and comes at a pivotal juncture in the LA-based composer, producer, guitarist and multi-instrumentalist’s musical journey.

Following a long run of supporting work with artists like Perfume Genius, Tasha, and Hand Habits, alongside an eponymous recorded output largely focused on his more singer-songwriter oriented music, Uhlmann has spent the better part of the last couple years trotting out album after album of groundbreaking instrumental modern music. From the sparse melodies and hushed ambient soundscapes of Small Day, to his much-lauded duo outing Doubles with Meg Duffy, to his perhaps lesser-known but no-less-brilliant duo record Water Map with Dustin Wong, to the lush chamber-jazz interplay of his trio recording with saxophonist Josh Johnson and bassist Sam Wilkes, to the two genre-breaking albums he released as a co-leader of synth-laced trance-jazz quintet SML (2024’s Small Medium Large and 2025’s How You Been), Uhlmann has subtly, if not quietly, established himself as an essential presence in some of the most progressive recordings of our time.

Extra Stars encompasses all he’s learned through all the above. A radiant sidereal serenade, the album’s fourteen miniature infinities swirl serendipitous synthesis and measured, melody-rich song into a panoramic menagerie of sound. For a record that seldom incorporates percussion instruments, the music is distinctly rhythm-forward, while Uhlmann also leans heavily into swaths of pastoral beauty. Extra care was clearly poured into the kind of harmonic depth that’s often missing from vibe-only “ambient” music, making for a delightfully refreshing take on the electronic, processing-heavy 'quiet' sound.

The compositions and production techniques here reflect Uhlmann’s musicality perfectly, surely the result of him being as much a seasoned practitioner as he is an avid listener. If there is a middle ground between Cluster & Eno, Terry Riley’s Shri Camel, and Yo La Tengo’s There’s a Riot Going On, it’s somewhere nearby. Lofty comparisons aside, Extra Stars seems to look beyond reference or imitation. Even the album’s title indicates as much—inspired by a trip to California’s Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest, where the reality of the night sky’s starry expanse stretches beyond the boundaries of belief.

We can feel Uhlmann’s gaze past the horizon line from the jump. Album opener “Pocket Snail” kicks off with a slow-ambling synth bass line before opening up into a richly processed, reverberating cacophony of beautiful sliding melodies. Eyes wide open, the small world of the pocket snail begins to burst with new color after a fresh injection of sunlight, but the tonality is more akin to something of a simple torch ballad. It’s an immense clash of big and small, and sets the stage nicely for the delightful vantage point shifting to come throughout the record.

“Lucia” is named after a quaint lodge nestled amongst the cliffside drama of Big Sur, and the tune’s musical rendering of an intimate yet expansive perspective perfectly fits its namesake. The steady thump and chime of Uhlmann’s guitar repetitions sit atop a field recording of the distant, heavy-winded ocean crash of the Cabrillo Highway coast, held even steadier by harbor bell metallic clank percussion and a firm yet pillowy cluster of electric organ chords and mellotron-like leads. Enter saxophonist Alabaster DePlume, the track's lone feature, with his signature breathy reed work. Here DePlume’s vibrato-heavy tenor sax wandering adds a secret-among-friends intimacy to a sonic scene that could go for miles. DePlume hums low in multitrack as Uhlmann leads the steady pulse on, encountering syncopated harmonic pings, fluttering recorder flourishes, and the little bustling sounds of the rural Pacific shoreline. Earworms must live in the ocean air, because it’s tough to get any element of “Lucia” unstuck once it’s in, and the whole thing is all tied up in a bow in just under three and a half minutes. Equally playful and introspective, “Lucia” is the potential soundtrack to a close reading or a thousand yard stare. If Jim Henson dreamt Link’s Awakening this would be the sound he heard.

“Burnt Toast” is an essential example of Uhlmann’s penchant for using the guitar to make non-guitar sounds. That’s not to say that what is occurring here is a simple act of processing. Rather, Uhlmann has a distinct and instantly recognizable ability to play the instrument itself in a way that lends to drastic and realtime tonal transformation. Clocking in at a lean 1:25, it’s a quick and lively skip through a blend of complimentary and warring syncopations—another hallmark of Uhlmann’s style—topped with synthetic glissandos and stereo-image warbles placed just so. What really makes it gel, though, is the harmonic simplicity that the transformative madness is serving. At the end of the day, the basic structure of “Burnt Toast” is an uncomplicated chord progression.

That essential simplicity, leaning into tonal expressions of quiet joy and deep longing, could be the most relevant throughline in Uhlmann’s work. On Extra Stars it’s likely best exemplified on “Days,” a serene 7+ minute track born in the nerve shattering confusion of 2020. “It was made in my old apartment and felt like a way of self soothing by playing the same chords over and over again,” says Uhlmann. The result is a wisping, languid, near free-time drift through a progression that manages to maintain its directness despite its slow-building reverberated accompaniment. Like a Harold Budd take on the somber fingerpicked elegance of Frantz Casseus, “Days” wanders through the speakers with an almost nostalgic air. A grandmotherly wall organ melody sings around dancing piano notes as chattering synthesis renders itself percussive amongst the steel string comfort of Uhlmann’s electric guitar. It’s the kind of recording that could go on forever and maybe, somewhere, it’s doing just that. On Extra Stars, though, it acts as a spiritual centerpiece, rejuvenating the listener as it fades out slowly, cleansing and leaving us ready for more.

“Back Scratch” is collage-cut from a series of piano improvisations and post-composed with pitch-shifted percussion contributions from Uhlmann’s SML bandmate Booker Stardrum. Uneven loops syncopate in chance mode while the barrage of high-register notes conflate with Stardrum’s stickwork to cement a rhythm dense enough to nearly become a drone. The impulsive comparison to the intensely rhythmic zither dance of Laraaji would be understandable, but mostly inaccurate. “Back Scratch” is produced in a markedly raw, un-reverberated manner—and it’s precisely that stark wonkiness that separates it from something like Day Of Radiance and makes it more akin to a basement DIY crack at Reich’s Drumming. That said, its brevity and singularity among the wildly diverse Extra Stars tracklist means that it might be (just maybe) more actual fun to listen to than both of those records.

The guitarless moments on Extra Stars shine as brightly as those that highlight Uhlmann’s primary instrument, but even those departures display themselves distinctively, especially when he invites and directs a collaborator. The labcoat synth silliness and percussive b-ball bounce of “Dottie,” for instance, contrasts sharply from the unbridled beeswarm rhythm composite of “Worms Eye” despite the implementation of the same tools and techniques—likely due to the co-production presence of synthesist Jeremiah Chiu (another SML bandmate) on the latter. Regardless, there’s no mistaking an Uhlmann composition and there’s no mistaking when he’s at the helm. For instance, while Chiu’s presence can certainly be felt on “Voice Exchange,” its outlandish rhythm focused take on the pitch-shifted vocals of longtime Uhlmann collaborator Tasha couldn’t be further from the other Chiu co-productions on Extra Stars.

The ability to maintain a recognizable voice across vast stylistic shifts, while employing the talents of those who also possess singularly recognizable voices, is not something that is heard often and it’s Uhlmann’s ability to recognize what makes each collaborator unique that makes it work here. A great example is “Bristlecone,” which finds him directing the powerful low-end command of Anna Butterss’s bass and the multiphonic mystery of Josh Johnson’s processed alto. The composition and arrangement are supported at every turn by Uhlmann’s SML bandmates without the result ever wandering away from something we can hear as distinctly his. Like David Bowie, Joni Mitchell, or Miles Davis, Uhlmann uses collaboration to both support and transform. To reinforce and evolve. With Extra Stars he has delivered such a promising collection of instrumental concepts following an extended period of vast, high-level artistic output. There’s no doubt that it will continue to be a joy to experience that evolution in real time.

Robert Stillman didn’t set out to make a concept album about Steve Jobs. But as a composer and improviser whose music asks questions about his relationship with reality, a curiosity about the promises and follies of technology took him there. Following an intuitive path from James Bridle’s acclaimed book on non-human intelligence Ways of Being to the seminal 1995 essay “The California Ideology”, Stillman arrived at Walter Isaacson’s biography of Apple founder Steve Jobs – and what would become the catalyst for his new album. “10,000 Rivers points to an alternative narrative about a man who is tormented by the instability of his reality, so tries to invent his way out of it,” Stillman explains. “Ultimately, his tech designs become expressions of his will to replace the messy, disordered, temporary nature of the world with something that strives to be barely physical: streamlined, symmetrical, uncomplicated, and deathless.” Highly original, wholly unclassifiable, 10,000 Rivers is part cultural critique, part sonic biography and takes the form of a series of songs, instrumentals and abstract soundscapes that respond directly to moments or paradigms from Jobs’ life. Stylistically, it leans on Stillman’s relationship with the smooth music of Billy Ocean, Gloria Estefan and 10cc from the ‘80s and early ‘90s, made at what he calls “the knife’s edge between the human and the digital.” “A lot of this music, coincidentally, was contemporary with Jobs’ heyday and the mainstream adoption of his first personal computers,” Stillman continues, revelling in the playful deconstruction of their aspirational and anodyne qualities. Twinkling, synthetic arpeggios sit alongside tumbledown acoustic improvisation – think Mort Garson meets Moondog – fragments of ambient sound collapse into queasy auto-tuned lullabies, the melancholy paradise of Brian Wilson-esque California dreaming dismantled into uncanny free jazz freakouts. Recorded to ½-inch 8 track tape and mixed down in real-time to give it a live, performative quality, the result is a speculative, genreless soundtrack to a man’s life and the wider societal values it came to define. Drawing on his recent collaborations with Thom Yorke, Jonny Greenwood and Tom Skinner as touring support and live band-member for The Smile, Stillman’s work has long resisted categorisation, and been presented in a range of media, including installations, performance lectures and 12 solo albums, the most recent of which What Does It Mean to Be American? takes a similarly conceptual scalpel to complex notions of US identity. One of Stillman’s most ambitious and idiosyncratic projects to date, 10,000 Rivers is an elegy for the hubris of a humankind trying to design its way to immortality as it falls apart at the seams.

Lo Recordings are very proud to announce the release of a beautiful collaborative project. A seamless sonic journey that guides us through the filmic landscape of a bygone era. Chiming in the past and resonating in the present. Meg Morley and Haiku Salut combine their talents for the reimagining of a score for the 1930's silent film People on Sunday. Inspired by their live performance and screening of the classic at the Flatpack festival. The release was five years in the making as they set out to capture the compositions in the studio, blending Morley’s expressive piano with Haiku Salut’s textured electronics. The result has given rise to an album that belies its historic source with a fresh and clean sound and a complex ever moving series of compositions.. 'The Lost Score' is a vibrant contemporary album for our time. Haiku Salut are an instrumental trio whose music blends electronica, neo-classical and folk into richly layered, cinematic soundscapes. Known for their enigmatic performances and live scores to silent films, they create immersive experiences that merge timeless visuals with modern experimental sound. Meg Morley is a Melbourne-born London-based pianist, composer and improviser who pursues cross-cultural and interdisciplinary collaborations, focusing on storytelling. Her classically trained precision and jazz-inflected improvisations have brought her to prominence through her compositions for classical and jazz ensembles, accompaniment for dance companies (Pina Bausch, English National Ballet) and her internationally-acclaimed original scores for silent film.

On Beacon Hill: at twilight we find Anthony Moore, roots winding backwards to the halcyon days of Slapp Happy and the ‘70s progressive art rock scene, at guitar and piano. With the atmospheres and accompaniments of AKA & Friends, he breathes infernal new life into songs from his six decades of multivarious music making. This new delivery system is unto a séance, a communal incantation, twining Anthony’s avant and pop traditions together in a darkly radiant coil of folky chamber music; a rope to lower the listener through cobwebs and murk, unveiling new life beneath Anthony’s mad old lines.

It is new life that we will need if we hope to reoccupy this cursed earth.

AKA are Anthony Moore, Keith Rodway and Amanda Thompson. A pagan family of sound worshipers hailing from that unholiest of all places: Hastings UK, home of Crowley and Turing. Like their sinister forbears in that infamous tradition, this latest trinity shares a passion for subverting pattern and number, factoring unlikely permutations arising from sea and horizon, greensward, the southerly aspect, and the planisphere as half-world. Their equatorial shore speaks of a planet of water and earth, fire and air. AKA’s humble tools of choice for this endeavor are guitar, piano, organ, synthesizer and vocals.

The Friends of AKA are Tullis Rennie, trombone and electronics; Olie Brice, double bass; Richard Moore, violin; and Haydn Ackerley, guitar. They too navigate the shoreline of the south coast, haunt the same taverns and regularly play together in whatever combinations fit the bill.

Leaving the drums (and their drummer) at home to realize anew these dream-laden songs, AKA & Friends ensure that the notes fall around the beat and not on it, so as to define the pulse with absence. As such, time is liberated, prised free from the merciless clock; a rhythm of waves, passing through a steady-state universe of no beginnings and no endings. Discontinuities are dissolved, all is transition.

On Beacon Hill: Anthony Moore with AKA & Friends manifest a sensuous post-devastation lounge act, seeking to re-invoke natural orders by naming — rather than cursing — the darkness in its many guises. Like final-phase Johnny Cash on a lost episode of Twin Peaks, Anthony’s innate gravitas is a light through the surreal landscape, as the players combine themselves again and again, their efforts rising and falling in shared space. Their gothic jazz orchestra carves delicately through Anthony’s songs, releasing the melodies and the melancholy to drift upward, like smoke against a sooty and scorched backdrop.

On Beacon Hill: fantastic, prophetic journeys, dry eyed but deeply affected, through the shadow depths of Anthony Moore’s mirror. As we listen, we gravitate and journey alongside fellow refugees in solidarity and solitude alike.

Catherine Lamb works at the boundary between perception and illusion. In Curva Triangulus (2018/21), the American composer takes Bridget Riley's geometric forms as starting point for "warping" Renaissance materials through geometric musical figures. The result is a 41-minute composition for eight instruments where the distinction between melody and harmony dissolves: one generates the other, rather than existing as separate entities. The score demands an exceptional ensemble. Bern's Ensemble Proton has access to extremely rare instruments: the arciorgano (Vicentino's 16th-century microtonal organ), a baroque triple harp (Barberini model), lupophone, contraforte, and clarinet d'amore. These combine with flute, cor anglais, bassoon, violin, and cello in an asymmetrical octet. The absence of piano and presence of the bellows-driven arciorgano subverts the ensemble's traditional balance, with the organ supporting the entire score from below. Lamb imagined a late Renaissance position of musical perception, warped by Riley's triangles and shapes in multidimensional space. Italian composer Zarlino hovers as phantom presence (with echoes of Marc Sabat's Gioseffo Zarlino surfacing), while Rameau's intuition about the sounding body remains just beyond the historical horizon. The baroque triple harp acts as "free flowing agent," articulating the progression of clearer contrapuntal triadic material in the foreground. Ensemble musicians alternate roles as active generators and passive harmonizers, always in relation to one another. In the revised version (completed winter 2020/21), these roles are distributed more evenly, adding timbral and intentional diversity. Richard Haynes introduces clarinet d'amore, while Elise Jacoberger contrasts bassoon and contraforte more distinctly. The ensemble includes Bettina Berger (flute, alto flute), Martin Bliggenstorfer (cor anglais, lupophone), Vera Schnider (triple harp), Coco Schwarz (arciorgano), Maximilian Haft (violin), and Jan-Filip Ťupa (cello). Recorded at Guebwiller Cathedral, France in May 2023 by sound engineer Ingo Schmidt-Lucas, Curva Triangulus is the latest in Lamb's extensive Another Timbre catalog, following parallaxis forma, Prisma Interius VIII, string quartets with JACK Quartet, and earlier works. Dusted Magazine notes the composition possesses "undeniable and immediate beauty" with "leisurely pace allowing room for experiments," offering both deep listening challenges and accessible pleasure.