MUSIC

After the cult favourite Apron Japan Vol.1 dropped in 2023, we’re back with the next wave!

We’ve expanded our reach beyond Japan — this time diving deeper into the sounds of the East. Featuring a diverse lineup of producers and artists across Asia and the surrounding regions, Apron East Vol.2 celebrates the rawness, late night riddims, and future classics.

FEATURING MUSIC BY:

Benedek, DJ Dreamboy, Hookuo, Isaac, DJ Jeyon, J M S KHOSAH, Kendall Timmons, KO SAITO, Jarren, Steven Julien, and Yuka Sunflora.

At Our Best! were one of the greatest and most influential bands to emerge in the early 1980s as part of a new wave of independent acts. DJ John Peel championed them, playing their singles repeatedly and inviting them to record a session for his programme. Wry vocalist Judy Evans and brutal yet melodic guitarist James Alan who’d met at art college in Leeds fronted Girls At Our Best!, the proto-Indie band that formed from the ashes of Alan’s 1977 punk band SOS! Pleasure, the sole album, reached number two in the Indie Chart. It was an album so different from the rest of the post-punk indie pack that you can still play it now and completely baffle new listeners. As John Peel said about Roxy Music, it just doesn’t seem to relate to anything else.

A Colourful Storm proudly presents remastered first-time vinyl and digital editions of Lone Capture Library’s modern-day DIY environmental masterpiece, All Natures Most Mundane Materials.

“Environmental”, you say? Well, this certainly wasn’t recorded for dinner party ambience nor was it commissioned by Harrods. But it does document a haphazard wander through the English countryside, feeling the air and the earth, detaching oneself from confinement while attempting to make sense of it all.

Its protagonist is Rory Salter, London's restless improvisor extraordinaire, who has contributed to dozens of solo and collaborative releases in an ecosystem centred around his Infant Tree private press, as well as recordings for Bison, Alter and MAL. Under his Malvern Brume alias, he is responsible for some of the most enchanting sides of contemporary concrète that has graced our ears, each record a dérive, revealing beauty and curiosity within London’s urban banality. And while we’d argue that Lone Capture Library applies this approach but instead seeks the peculiar within the pastoral, there, too, lies a certain hermetic recklessness, with its unique disruptive details and discarded sonic bric-a-brac permeating the air.

“I'd walked from Swindon to Avebury and back, which is about a 21-mile round trip. I'd been a muppet and did the whole thing down the A4361, which is not a road suitable for walking on - there was a lot of jumping into the hedges to avoid lorries. Turned out, there was a really nice walk across the fields I could have done instead. But maybe that sums it up quite well. Instinctive and very impulsive. The day following, I was at home and recorded it in single takes, improvised and straight to the tape. There was a good deal of significance for me in walking to the stones, passing the Hackpen Horse, being in the landscape and dealing with some brain rot after being stuck in a house, anxious and depressed. There was a sense of freedom and detachment. It was all about the materials of the earth and the body and fucking the brain off for a bit - just wanting to move between places. I dunno, it's all very cliché.”

Manchester’s Sferic label (Space Afrika, Jake Muir, Bianca Scout, Roméo Poirier++) return with a fire debut from ungoogleable Greco-Canadian anomaly Anastasia Patellis, aka Any, featuring additional instrumentation and co-production from Klein/Lolina cohort LA Timpa. It's a set of "squat pop" experiments that thread nocturnal soundscaping and pop hooks through hallucinated outlines written on harp and broken synth, highly recommended if you’re into Astrid Sonne, Tirzah, Nala Sinephro.

Greco-Canadian artist Any was bedding down in a Cretan squat when the album's title, μέγα ελεός in Greek, boomed from loudspeakers next to a bonfire, courtesy of a midnight Orthodox church sermon. Moving to the sunny, ancient island had provided her with an escape from big city burnout, but she ended staying far longer than expected - years rather than months. It’s this prolonged sense of suspension that provides the album with its wandering spirit, using harp as an emotional core.

Listening to Breton music made on the Celtic harp from artists like Kristen Noguès and Alan Stivell, Any sketched out song outlines that were then tweaked by Lagos-born, Toronto-raised journeyman LA Timpa, who flew out to Crete last summer to put his idiosyncratic stamp on the record. Like the dusty songs on Astrid Sonne's 'Great Doubt, ‘MEGA MERCY' sounds as if its drum line was duped on dictaphone from an old beat tape, then spliced with field recordings and vocals.

Half sung, half spoken, she murmurs around the beat, not exactly over it, adding circuitous, boss-tuned harp twangs when necessary. It's music that's spartan rather than lo-fi; a sort of bare-bones reaction to electroacoustic experimentation and outsider folk. It makes perfect sense that an artist as thematically on-point as LA Timpa is involved - Any's instrumental vamps are roughly pasted around pinprick boom-bap snaps and crunchy foley denouements, eventually cooled into contemplative Nala Sinephro-esque meditations.

Sections bring to mind Tirzah's most psychedelic early excursions, with dry asides set against a slurping, off-axis beatbox loop and distant, barely-audible synths. The record is tied up on 'WEATHER LIKE TIDE', an instrumental callback to the opener, book-ending the album with a melancholy, humid kinda ambient folk, purposefully melting the timeline.

Salamanda and Tristan Arp lend effervescent reworks to key numbers off the gossamer-spun debut of ambient electronica by Singapore/London’s Yingtuitive, all flyaway strands of gamelan, flickering pulses and 8-bit circuitry given an emotive warmth and quiet strength...

“Singapore-born, London-based producer yingtuitive introduces herself with Letters To Self 寫情書, a deeply personal debut LP arriving on Will Hofbauer’s Third Place.

A classically trained pianist whose musical identity draws from Southeast Asian traditions, electronic experimentation, and diasporic reflection, yingtuitive crafts soundscapes that feel both intimate and expansive. The project is accompanied by two stunning reworks from esteemed creators: South Korean ambient duo Salamanda, known for their lush, meditative textures, and US artist Tristan Arp, celebrated for his organic, shape-shifting productions.

“Every musical moment in this album is essentially a letter to my self in some form…” - yingtuitive

Across eight original compositions, Letters To Self 寫情書 unfolds as a sonic diary, a search inward, a series of tender emotional missives to the self. Gamelan-inspired textures glimmer alongside field recordings captured in Singapore and the UK, while delicate, improvised piano passages echo memories of home. These elements intertwine with fragments of film samples and experimental electronics, resulting in tracks that glide through ambient, ethereal, and blissful terrains. It’s music that floats and envelops, as though nature itself had grown into sound, serene and rich in emotional resonance.

Written during a period of deep reflection, the album meditates on identity, homesickness, belonging, and the overwhelming noise of the world outside. Each piece feels like a still moment within chaos, a soft conversation between past and present selves, where harmony emerges from internal conflict. From angelic piano melodies to glitchy bursts of experimentalism, yingtuitive bridges her Singaporean roots and UK influences with blissful grace. Letters To Self 寫情書 marks not just a debut release, but the formation of a unique musical voice, gliding between cultural languages with honesty, vulnerability, and quiet strength.”

Noisy, surreal and uncompromisingly idiosyncratic, The Shadow Ring's 1997-released 'Hold Onto I.D.' is a perennially misunderstood rust spot in their discography, marked by Graham Lambkin's choked free-form poetry and Tim Goss's eerie Radiophonic oscillations.

Squeezed between '96's 'Wax-Work Echoes', founder members Lambkin and Darren Harris's first album with keyboard player Goss, and '99's dark, concept-driven double album 'Lighthouse', it's easy to understand why 'Hold Onto I.D.' is one of The Shadow Ring's most overlooked full-lengths. Listening now, it falls perfectly into place; if they were playing fast and loose with the possibilities on 'Wax-Work...' and exploring new territory with 'Lighthouse', this is the point where Lambkin, Harris and Goss were able to take stock, augmenting the Bolan-goes-Jandek crankiness of 'City Lights' and its snotty follow-up 'Put the Music in its Coffin' with frazzled, hot-wired electronics and isolationist, paranoiac reflections. "You've got to learn the difference between sweat and dew," Harris deadpans on opener 'Watch the Water'. "You've got black lakes forming on your floor, and the dusty brown rug from decades or so ago becomes hot spot for shrimp and nautical foe."

Lambkin's muculent tales of small-town boredom ink a rough outline of Folkestone, the somnolent coastal town where the band lived, contrasting literal decay with asphyxiating cultural emptiness. On previous records, The Shadow Ring had sounded as if they were delivering their own discrete reading of British rock, but the music falls away from the figurative even further here. The gunky, detuned riffs are there just to prop up the stern, psycho-satirical lyrics (guitars would disappear completely by 'Lighthouse'), and any rhythms have become little more than side-room ambient clatter. It's Goss's piercing, terror-stricken monosynth keens that take pride of place, forming an uncomfortable bed of anxious electronics that buzzes beneath the entire record. Lambkin and Harris break and bend their acoustic instruments as if they're speaking to the synth sounds from a similar vantage points, like forgotten remnants of British folk history.

A disheveled piano is tapped at furtively on 'Wash What You Eat', and dissonant chords crack awkwardly from a cheap acoustic guitar; Goss's swirling, pitchy warbles sound as if they've been pulled from a Quatermass re-run and copy-pasted with cheap cassette. And it's the fact that we're served this inner vision of humdrum British surrealism - a no-hope fantasized hi-culture/lo-culture melt fueled by tapes, fanzines and overdue library books - that makes it so enduringly good. Lambkin, Harris and Goss weren't pretentiously trying to affix their images onto concepts earmarked for the elite, they were working in their own damp, festering cinematic universe and presenting it warts 'n all. It's fucking timeless.

Originally conceived as a compilation of outtakes and live recordings from The Shadow Ring’s 1995 stateside tour, Wax-Work Echoes takes its name from the first line of “Put the Music in Its Coffin,” the title track of the group’s breakthrough release. Lambkin abandons the bits-and-bobs approach, advancing the Shadow Ring concept with entirely original material that builds on the unit’s self-mythologizing lyrics, celebrates the clicking of horse hooves, ponders on the sociability of rats and mice, and warns of the dangers of poultry. The first Shadow Ring album to officially include Tim Goss in the main lineup, Wax-Work Echoes reveals the group in its final and lasting form, awash in the outer bounds of atmospheric exploration, with Lambkin’s familiar wry and morbid lyricism and the stripped-down angularity of amateurishly detuned guitars fully intact. While Klaus Canterbury and Tony Clark seem all but forgotten, and the shrugged off S. Fritz is listed on the liner notes as performing only “when required,” Lambkin did solicit contributions from outside the inner circle. A bit of “Mambo Twist,” lifted from a tape of unreleased Vitamin B12 material sent to Lambkin by Alasdair Willis, found its way into “V.E.R.M.I.N.,” while an extended epistle contribution from Richard Youngs (and, technically, Brian Lavelle) would be employed in the second half of “Catching Sight/Of Passing Things.”

Released on CD in 1996 for Bruce Russell’s newly minted Corpus Hermeticum, Wax-Work Echoes was recorded concurrently with intense rehearsal periods, in anticipation of the forthcoming “Rose Watson Tour,” and was supported by a celebratory fanzine media blitz. The album seemingly absorbs the frenetic excess of the band’s transatlantic travels; Wax-Work Echoes channels the trio’s wilder instincts into an unresolved catharsis, not yet free of frustration or restlessness. Out of print for almost three decades and available here for the first time ever on long-playing disc, Wax-Work Echoes is a classic from the outer eddies of The Shadow Ring’s sound, a must-have for any aficionado’s collection: “A window slides, glass slips from frame / And canvas carcass breathes again.”

Throughout their legendary, decade-long run, The Shadow Ring were an enigmatic force on the international musical sub-underground. Before their disbandment in 2002, this shambolic rock outfit, formed by a group of rowdy teenagers in southeast England, left behind a mighty run of eight LPs, a handful of 7"s, and a spate of raucous live shows and cryptic zine appearances on both sides of the Atlantic, all which have bolstered their enduring word-of-mouth mystique. Beginning in 2023 with the first-ever vinyl pressing of the self-released pre–Shadow Ring tape The Cat & Bells Club (1992), Blank Forms Editions has been conducting a systematic retrospective of the storied group. Wax-Work Echoes and Hold Onto I.D. are the latest releases in a multiyear reissue effort that includes several LPs, a comprehensive CD box set, and a nearly five-hundred-page book.

Waterfall Horizon, 7038634357’s second album with Blank Forms Editions, was written for live performance and workshopped over successive shows during a 2022 tour. Here, the song forms have begun to crystallize. Hallmarks of the artist’s prior, studio-crafted recordings—slow-burning ambience and obfuscating digital distortion—are pared back, revealing borderline pop inflections. Waterfall Horizon’s more traditional lyrical scaffolds allow verses, chorus, and interstices to flourish, all within a minimized, icy range.

Neo Gibson, born in Virginia and based in New York City, records, performs, and produces as 7038634357. This numerical alias, under which Gibson has been releasing work since 2016, offers a window into the careful ambivalences of the musical project. It conjures the impersonal—the opacity and randomness of data, a number that is hard to remember or even say out loud—while also suggesting a direct line of communication with the artist, down to an area code indexing their biography. 7038634357 uses a restricted palette to achieve music that is formally precise and emotionally direct. Their digital-native approach to production, in which frank melodies cross paths with heavy distortion, contains traces of both trance’s maximalist arcs and a songwriterly intimacy. Expressive details may appear submerged or abraded, subjected to a canny sense of dynamics and textural discretion.

With a particular interest in site-specific performances in non-musical spaces, 7038634357 has performed in a variety of contexts, including the mezzanine of the West 4th Street subway station in New York City and INA GRM/Radio France’s Présences électronique festival. The first 7038634357 vinyl record, Neo Seven, was released on Blank Forms Editions in 2023; previous releases include self-released cassettes and CD-Rs, as well as a pair of EPs on Genome 6.66 Mbp (2018, 2019).

Under the right conditions, half-remembered dreams can meld seamlessly into hazy present moments. Time spent alone can be an emotional blank canvas, and an opportunity to deconstruct sense and feeling; a patchwork of snippets both rooted in memory and abstracted from reality. The title of ‘quilted lament’ perfectly captures the way Gretchen Korsmo and claire rousay’s overlapping missions come together to do just this. Worn polaroid melodies and snatched everyday noises seem overheard through windows onto the street. They feel emotionally twinned, claire and Gretchen, it’s not always possible to tell where one ends and the other begins. Their musical thoughts and DNA are sewn together into a mini symphony of warmly embracing movements.

Built remotely between pre-existing friends in the underground music scene, the duo layered ideas onto audio files, and sent them back (and forth). And these luscious instrumentals truly do feel assembled by intuition, casually crafted with little need for guidance. “claire and I are both emo,” explains Korsmo. “We are both former texas-dwellers [too] and relate over both the woes and beauties of being in the American DIY experimental music scene.” Buoyant piano keys and hushed layer vocals tracks sit alongside a humming field-recorded scrapbook; a neighbour caught in a moment of private inspiration while street noise elevates; a private hymnal in the bathroom while the washing machine ends its cycle. Both artists take field sounds from a wealth of Zoom and Tascam recordings made in the last half-decade in Santa Fe, San Antonio, Los Angeles, Kamakura, Japan and elsewhere – from a baseball game announcer in Santa Fe, to the sound of a friend eating a juicy peach. At times, the bedroom walls seem to grow thin amid atmospheric creaks and disembodied whispers. Despite its very emo core, this is a recording engulfed in an intense sense of bliss, more at peace than we’ve heard either artist before.

Yes! Tommy Guerrero’s much-loved 4th LP – the smooth West Coast classic From The Soil To The Soul - gets its first ever vinyl release. As the follow up to his revered Soul Food Taqueria, this album was originally released by Quannum Records in 2006 but only on CD. Working with Tommy directly, the LP has been fully remastered, cut on to heavyweight wax, and comes with artwork freshly reworked by the man himself.

From The Soil To The Soul represents a continuation of Tommy’s blissful guitar-soul whilst demonstrating increasingly complex chops and a slightly darker side to his distinctive sound. His spare, effortless funk is blended here with elements of Americana, heavy psych, lo-fi fuzz and intoxicating Latin rhythms. Combined with his typically breezy, laid-back San Franciscan style, it’s a vibe from start to finish.

Recorded primarily in his home studio, Tommy wrote, arranged and played nearly all the instruments, including bass, guitar, keyboards, percussion and kalimba. Renowned street artist Barry McGee, aka Twist, designed the cover art which Tommy has now recast in a deep, deep red for the vinyl version.

As ever with Tommy, the highlights are many and memorable. From twinkling, sun-drenched opener “Hello Again” to the penultimate, punk-rocking track “Let Me In Let Me Out” (featuring the melodic yet fearsome rapping of Lyrics Born), the variety across the LP is relentless, but satisfying, and without once losing focus.

We’re treated to the gorgeous hip-hop blues of “The Under Dog”, Meters-style Hammond B-3 jams like “War No More” and “No Guns More Glory” and Balearic bangers like Bing Ji Ling’s star-turn on the sleazy “Don’t Fake It.”

Curumin’s soulful guest vocal elevates the already-great Brazilian lounge feels of “Salve” to hitherto unscaled heights and the heavy, driving basslines - funky and warm on “Badder Than Bullets”, sombre and intense in “Tomorrow’s Goodbye” and “Molotov Telegram” – never fail to move both body and soul.

But our favourite track is the beautiful breezy pop of “Just Ain’t Me”. A bittersweet, skipping ballad which boasts an incredibly rare instance of Tommy singing. “What you want from me, I can never give” he repeats throughout, lending the already-melancholic atmosphere greater poignancy. It would’ve been number 1 across the planet in a parallel universe.

Primitive Maxi Trial is a time-warped excavation from the archives of Emiliano Pennisi, the Palermo-based producer and underground fixture behind the Paradigma collective (DerFreitag, Algoritmo). Surfacing on the Heat Crimes imprint, this archival transmission feels less like a retrospective and more like a haunted artifact – a fragment of the pre-digital underground rendered in dusty, lo-fi hues.

Drawn from material produced between the late ’90s and mid-2000s, Primitive Maxi Trial occupies a blurred zone where early DAW fetishism meets pirate aesthetics and a scavenger’s ear for pop-cultural residue. Think cracked VSTs (Albino, SubBoomBass), MPC 1000 grit, and CD-ROM sample libraries ripped from Future Music and Computer Music cover discs—long-lost sonic ephemera unearthed like forgotten VHS tapes in the backroom of a failing electronics shop.

There’s an unmistakable hauntological hue here—not in the usual Ghost Box pastiche sense, but something rawer, more regionally specific. These tracks were forged under the looming shadow of the Mafia Maxi Trial, in a city fraught with paranoia, informal spaces, and cultural fragmentation. That tension bleeds into the music: compressed textures, iron-lung atmospheres, and bleakly humorous juxtapositions that wouldn’t feel out of place soundtracking a Mark Leckey installation.

But this isn’t mere nostalgia. Pennisi’s compositions slip between IDM’s jittery melancholy, no-fi techno, ambient detritus, and grotesque rave misfires with an almost outsider art sensibility. Surreal cuts appear like tape-warped memories of nights out you’re not sure really happened. In the best moments, Primitive Maxi Trial feels like music made not for release but for ritual—claustrophobic yet oddly liberating, deeply personal yet disarmingly tongue-in-cheek.

Novisad’s second album Seleya, originally released by Tomlab in 2001, is reissued by Keplar with a previously unheard bonus track from 2004 and a fresh cut by LUPO. Produced by Kristian Peters, these thirteen loop-based miniatures evoke a sense of early-2000s digital experimentation—crafted with the rudimentary tools, quirks and limitations of pre-Ableton software and repurposed equipment. Aliased tones, subtle dissonances and quietly colliding loops form a delicate, melancholic atmosphere that’s both intimate and exploratory. Untethered from convention, Seleya documents a moment of sonic curiosity and invention, where imperfection and unpredictability add emotional depth to its fragile beauty.

In keeping with the DIY roots of independent music, X Or Size producer Josiah Wolfson is a one-man production factory who not only makes and produces his music, but also handles his own record design and project presentation. It's a formula he's used successfully on two albums for Good Morning Tapes, as well as this fantastic third full-length missive. Deep, immersive, lightly off-kilter, sample-rich, effects-heavy and expressively atmospheric, the six tracks on show blend immersive sound design and collage style construction with nods to ambient dub, pitched-down lo-fi house, trip-hop, out-there ambient techno and the kind of huge-sounding-but-soft-focus ambient experimentalism so beloved of the Astral Industries label.

Rainy Day was an album released in 1984 on the now-defunct indie label Enigma. It consisted of cover songs performed by various musicians from California's so-called "Paisley Underground" scene. This loose collective was assembled by David Roback, who was then a member of Rain Parade and later of Opal and Mazzy Star. Other participants included Roback's Rain Parade mates (brother Stephen Roback, Matthew Piucci, Will Glenn) and members of the then-little-known Bangles (Susanna Hoffs and Vicki Peterson), the Dream Syndicate (Kendra Smith, Dennis Duck, Karl Precoda), and the Three O'Clock (Michael Quercio).

The songs that were chosen indicated the influences that were generally shared by bands from that scene; not only is a Velvet Underground song covered, but also one by Big Star, and two by the Buffalo Springfield which both happen to be Neil Young compositions. Some other selections are old folk songs which are best remembered as Byrds and Beach Boys recordings. Hendrix and the Who also made the list.

On this album, Smegma was: WhateverWoman (Amy, Amazon Bambi), Chucko-Fats (D.K.), The Quackback Kid (Dennis Duck), Ju Suk Reet Meate with Reed Burns, Richard Wagner, and Danton Dodge. At the end of October 1973, Ricky Reets Hubba-Hubba Band was disbanded. It had been decided that what was needed was "a band without musicians" and many wild experimental jam sessions took place. Finally on November 23, a particularly inspired jam was named "Cat Cheese" and the band Smegma was born. Although they had only been playing music together (or at all) for a few months, they decided to record a full length "live in the studio" Christmas album that included three original songs and an Elvis Presley cover. Budding sound engineer Mike Lastra offered them their first studio recording session in a garage in San Diego, and after a few rehearsals every track was recorded in one take and history was made. They wanted to do some old fashioned songs so they asked two willing "musicians," Reed Burns and Richard Wagner, to help, and since only four Smegma members could make the session "Danny" Danton Dodge (14 years old) was recruited as well. Of course, at the time only two or three copies on cassette were ever dubbed. The "Ace Of Space" received one and promptly became the first person to join the group, but now 50 years later this album is finally made available to public for the first time!