MUSIC
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François J. Bonnet – Banshee
Banshee is an ear directed towards the edges of the old world, where these infinite fines terrae cut and fractalize into coasts, harbours, fjords, peninsulas and archipelagos. Drawing its raw material from recordings made in the Inner Hebrides, Banshee tightly weaves a fabric where the sonic avatars of fauna, flora and climate merge with the human presence, its tools and its culture. Thus, a small boat cleaving through a loch becomes the voice of the mountains and wilderness, and the howling of the wind on the moors becomes the lament of a Banshee, harbinger of death, messenger of the Other World.
Sarah Davachi – Basse Brevis
Co-commissioned by Radio France and INA grm, Basse Brevis by Canadian composer Sarah Davachi was premiered at the Présences 2024 festival, which was dedicated to Steve Reich. Drawing on her own minimalist approach, Sarah Davachi explores, with extreme care, the weavings and complex relationships between the timbral, spatial and durational components of music. Using developments that can be appreciated over time, the composer manages to create music that is extremely precise, subtle and lively. But what is striking, and particularly evident in Basse Brevis, is that such an approach, both abstract and restrained, is nonetheless at times utterly poignant. The work combines moments of formal exploration with moments of pure emotion in a perfectly mastered fashion, creating a gentle tension as it swings between two modes of listening that navigate indecisively within both instrumental and concrete approaches, tracing, in parallel, a diagonal of sound that unfolds around perception, sensation and feeling.
François J. BONNET « Banshee » (2024)
Music composed from materials collected on the Isles of Mull, Staffa and Skye, Inner Hebrides, August 2022
Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi / Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle
Photo by Didier Allard © INA / Sleeve design by Stephen O’Malley
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Sarah DAVACHI « Basse Brevis » (2023)
Performed (electric organ, synthesizer, Mellotron) and recorded by Sarah Davachi at home in Los Angeles, CA, USA
Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi / Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle
Photo by Sean McCann / Sleeve design by Stephen O’Malley
Discovery Zone’s Library Copy Do Not Remove is a sonic document of an immersive multimedia program originally written for and performed inside of the historic Zeiss-Groß Planetarium dome in Berlin, Germany. The album invites listeners into an eternally expanding “circular library,” an information network containing everything that ever was or will be. Passing through holographic chambers of memory, replication, and recognition, Library Copy Do Not Remove offers a reflection from the infinite mirror that lies at the boundary of the known universe.
A Good Year is the collaborative project of producer and former Liss drummer Tobias Laust Hansen and filmmaker-turned-musician Albert R. Hildebrand. Play. moves between acoustic instrumentation, synthetic textures and loose-limbed rhythms, balancing baggy drums, bass-heavy electronics and understated guitar work with a reflective, road-trip atmosphere. Across the record, tender vocal performances and layered production give the songs a shifting sense of scale, from intimate sketches to expansive, anthem-like moments. Contributions from Horse Vision, Koilwood, Tiffi M, Quiet Light, Late Verlane, Alba Akvama, Suisse Air and MØ add further depth to its blurred mix of organic and electronic sounds.
Following The Pocket of Fever, Ambient Sans presents the second part of Masahiro Sugaya’s visionary collaborations with avant-garde performance group Pappa TARAHUMARA, founded by Hiroshi Koike in 1982. The company fused dance, theatre, music and visual art into abstract stage environments, with Sugaya’s music serving as their emotional and conceptual core.
Music From Alejo was his first full score for the troupe—a refined work where repetition and silence mingle with luminous synthesizers and drifting melodic fragments. More structured than The Pocket of Fever, it balances modern composition with subtle inflections of Japanese tradition, evoking a sense of movement suspended between dream and reality.
Reissued for the first time on vinyl, the album includes a printed insert with an exclusive interview and photographs from Sugaya’s home in Japan. A vital rediscovery for admirers of Hiroshi Yoshimura, Midori Takada and Brian Eno, it captures a quietly radical moment in Tokyo’s 1980s experimental scene.
Some 30 years after they first met in the DJ booth of Tokyo's Spacelab Yellow nightclub, close friends François Kevorkian and Dimitri From Paris have finally joined forces in the studio. The result is The Nassau Excursion, a dazzlingly good three-track EP inspired by their joint love of disco and boogie-era dance records made at Island Records' Compass Point Studio in the Bahamas. Featuring Dimitri's regular collaborator DJ Rocca, its is an expressive and fiendishly dubbed-out exploration of this distinctive sound - think echo-laden vocal snippets, thickset synth bass. D-Train style echoing keyboard motifs, jazz-funk flecked Wally Badarou riffs, colourful chords, dubbed-out congas and punchy drum machine beats, expertly arranged to include the kind of stylistic mixing traits and dancefloor dub tropes liberally employed by François and Dimitri over the course of their careers.
Budapest-based concept label, Blue Sun is launching their new line of vinyl focused releases, aimed primarily on DJs and collectors: the Blue Series. A counterpart to the Orange Series launched last year that showcases a more upbeat side of the label, the new collection presents a darker, more experimental, and introspective musical vision.The first release in the Blue Series is a six-track EP by Budapest based multimedia artist, Virág Réti. Choosing her legal name as her artist persona (“Flower of the Meadow" in Hungarian) also with the track titles capturing the folk names of local fauna, Peremidő evokes the artist's innate connection to nature as a place of refuge from the noise of Eastern European urban life.The EP’s motifs point back to early memories of sitting by a river, simply observing time flowing by. The arc of the songs follow the passage of a day, beginning with the hesitant sounds of early morning, gradually moving on toward more defined, rhythm-driven forms. As the airy textures slowly give way to structure and percussion comes to the forefront, the sense of direction becomes clearer, letting moments of gentle disorder and unexpected sounds to surface.Virág previously appeared on the label’s Blue Sun VA II compilation with her track Bíbic. Since launching her ambient music project in the fall of 2024, she has become one of the promising newcomers in the Hungarian experimental electronic music scene. Her debut EP, Minden Ami Megmaradt (All That Remains), was released last November as the final offering of temporary nites label (2023–2025). She is also the founder and organizer of the Budapest-based experimental electronic event series Still Places.
Tastemaker and cult figure among some, noise vendor among others… lurking somewhere in the shadows between London and Paris, the man known as Sheet Noise emerges out of the blue with his debut LP, Shostakovich's 5th Played Backwards in a Concrete Silo.
A direct shock to the system: equally beautiful and evil, abrasive yet uncomfortably calming. The feeling that something is about to happen at any minute—impending love or hatred blaring from the speakers at breakneck speeds. Heavy-duty, reactor-melted junglism; twisted samples buried under layers of dust and static; familiar voices in unfamiliar places.
This eight-track album is as intense as it can get. Don’t call it ambient. Don’t call it jungle. Don’t call it noise. Just strap yourself into the electric chair and get ready for the end.
*300 copies limited edition* A sporangium (from Ancient Greek sporá 'seed' and angeîon 'vessel') is an enclosure in which spores are formed. It can be composed of a single cell or can be multicellular. Virtually all plants, fungi, and many other groups form sporangia at some point in their life cycle. Sporangia can produce spores by mitosis, but in land plants and many fungi, sporangia produce genetically distinct haploid spores by meiosis.
Sporangium is brand new "merzsoniks"! Equipments used by Masami: handmade instruments / contact microphones / various fuzz / distortion / glitch pedals / synthesizer... And many other soft & hard-ware to be discovered...
*199 copies limited edition* Aka Meme by Merzbow was first released on Music-Cassette in 1983 on Masami'a own label ZSF Produkt and on V2 Uitgave (a Sub-label of V2 Organisation). Tape was later re-released in other two editions but is long time sold-out and impossible to find. Finally OEC is going to re-release that special tape once more. This is Industrial-Noise from the very first era made by the master of Japanoise. Recordings are mixing many different sounds that range from: ritual-sounds / vocals / found-sounds / treated-guitar / many different rythms / noise.... and a wired and wide range of other bubbling & rumbling sounds! A total merzexperience!
Billed as a sequel to 2022's '7.37/2.11', 'The air outside...' diffuses its predecessor's ambiguous synthscapes with loose-limbed slowcore improvisations, prioritising vulnerability and falibility. RIYL Laila Sakini, Grouper, Bianca Scout or Ulla. If Perila's immense, immersive double album 'Intrinsic Rhythm' was too much to swallow in one sitting, this one's a little more digestible. The prolific Berlin-based assembled 'The air outside...' from sessions recorded between 2021 and 2023, but they play remarkably coherently, revealing a more fragile, serendipitous side of her personality. Made mostly using guitar and voice, it's music that's not overthought or overproduced, as if we're getting a direct line into Perila's reality - even the title betrays its unpretentious approach. On opener 'Over Me', Perila loops reversed guitar notes, picking out a rough, detuned bassline and barely singing. Her faded voice mouthes out a wordless, improvised lullaby descends into a well, reverberating as she stumbles across the notes. Not ambient exactly, it's more like evaporated, decelerated post-rock - day zero Grouper crossed with Bark Psychosis. And that description holds on 'Barefeeter', even when Perila switches to piano, playing unsteady, muted phrases as the room rattles around her. A song begins to materialize as she sings textured coos, but never completely emerges. 'Gooshy' is more surprising still, playing out like Jandek with dissonant strums that quiver around dissociated vocal expressions, and on 'Fossil', she uses the same philosophy without resorting to live instrumentation, disrupting oozed pads and whisper-singing over the horizontal soundscape.
Subliminal moments, suspended fragments, caught between time zones. Comprised from a selection of soundscapes created by Aleksandra Zakharenko throughout various stages of last year, 7/37/2.11 acts as an auditory journal chronicling the fluctuating states of vague ambiguity the artists faced during the unprecedented turmoil of 2020. Press: Perila casts her slow burn, drowsy magic on Vaagner’s A Sunken Mall sublabel, drawing on the ambiguous nuance of daily life for another diaristic entry to her quietly expanding, precious catalogue. Continuing to occupy a personalised corner of the contemporary ambient sphere, somewhere between Félicia Atkinson and claire rousay’s liminal tone and Burial’s South London nightscapes; Perila transmutes fleeting feelings into a singular sort of ephemeral ambience richly textured with field recordings and laced with her signature spoken recitals (here edged from ASMR and into more audible room volume), slowly venting her thoughts. If you’ve had even half an ear on this realm over the past few years, we hardly need to describe it any further - but suffice it to say that this one is a deeply satisfying entry to the microcosm. The album is a more serenely intimate experience then much of what we’ve heard from Perila before, relaying observations in low-lit settings that settle the listening space to her tenor. ‘Long Dizzying Air Through a Balcony Door’ lures in with long, healing, sferic pads, and ‘Amorphous Absorption’ feels to drop the temperature a few degrees, condensing into icier drips. The title and spare tone of ‘Haven’t Left Home 4 4 Days’ is uncannily on the mark - we know that feeling all too well - with a dream-pop tone recalling Teresa Winter at her quietest, with ‘Crash Sedative’ surgeon off any slumber feels with beautifully quizzical, whimsical flurry of keys, but the final send off leaves us in ‘1 Room’, with what sounds like a stray Theo Parrish chord sequence drifting in from the street, as the day blurs into the next.
Mana is the International Anthem debut by composer, trombonist and vocalist Kalia Vandever. This new full length carries on the expansive and dazed spirit of their first solo album, We Fell In Turn, while entering a new landscape of spacious songwriting.
Vandever’s music has quickly and widely gained traction in the last few years despite the fact that their style has been consistently difficult to pin down, boasting a compositional scope ranging from the cinematic modern jazz of their quartet work to the synthetic, gauze-like droning ambience of their solo material. Mana leans into the expansion of the latter: solo trombone filtered through a well-dialed pedalboard and manipulated live, paired with spare piano à la late-career work of Ryuichi Sakamoto. The electroacoustic interplay simultaneously echoes and transforms the long-note melodicism of Vandever’s melancholic brass work; and the whole sound is emotively augmented with head-on, unambiguous, and deeply personal sung lyrics—a particularly fresh move for the composer. This dexterity has not gone unnoticed, with The Wire asserting, “Vandever has never sounded more assured and in control of their many strengths.”
“It was born out of curiosity,” says Vandever of the new record. “Of wanting to explore playing in a solo context, but also wanting to interact with my own sound. I was also asking myself things like ‘how can I do this in a way that feels personal, but different from what I've seen?’ It's allowed me to go deeper into my relationship with the instrument and with sound in general.”
A turning point in that development came when Vandever began to get more opportunities to play outside of the context of the jazz world. Some of those opportunities came in the form of playing a part in backing groups for pop stars (Harry Styles) or indie-rock mainstays (Japanese Breakfast), but the true exploration of Vandever’s own sound personality came while performing solo to new audiences unconcerned with genre. In particular, an opening slot on a tour with folksinger Haley Heynderickx seemed to knock something loose. There was, perhaps, less of a feeling that they needed to touch on jazz traditions in order to satisfy some kind of unspoken expectation from the audience—less perceived rigidity and, thus, less shyness about how to present. For Vandever, warming up the stage for Heynderickx and seeing a very different kind of crowd from the stage night after night helped to cement a sort of bravery about sharing a number of more intimate, lyric-centered pieces. “I was considering that they might gravitate more toward words,” says Vandever. “So I thought I could try these songs that I had been developing, that maybe I was feeling a little nervous to share."
“When I started opening for Haley, her audiences were just so giving and really open to receiving anything,” they continue. “So I started trying these songs and I feel like the words really resonated with audiences. It felt important to include them on the record.”
It’s more than just the words that resonate here. There’s a sonic scope on Mana which tees up a deep world for these lyrics to live in whenever they appear. A full-bodied trombone awash in reverberation and polyphonic pitch-shifting introduces “Hubbard Road,” Mana’s opening track. Vandever’s trusty brass axe rings out with confident warmth and soft power, ascending and descending in register, before being joined by the song’s primary theme—two repeating grand piano triads. It’s a quietly tense musical figure that is slowly unwound by Vandever’s soul-bearing horn improvisations.
“Waiting” opens with solo trombone laid deeply in a dense web of cloudy effects, holding a warped mirror to Vandever’s melodic brass call. The two elements vie for position until the halfway mark, when the disorienting tonal wash wins out, soon joined by Vandever’s longing and contemplative high-register vocal work—not dissimilar to the alluring intimacy of Grouper or the obscure swoon of Victorialand era Cocteau Twins.
“Murmuray” is a could-be brass reverie, rendered ambient via the foghorn solitude of Vandever’s effect chain savviness. By the 1:30 mark it’s transformed into a droning take on a tune grandma might have hummed, appropriate for the early riser’s first step into the day or the night owl’s weary and quiet walk home.
The track’s title is an Ilocono term used to describe waking and being fully awake. “Ilocono is one of three most common languages in the Philippines and was spoken primarily by my maternal grandfather,” says Vandever, who learned the term when their grandmother used it to describe their voice on a phone call. “I'm very close to my grandma on my mom's side. She's the only one in the family who sings, and I grew up listening to her sing Hawaiian folk songs. I feel like her singing encouraged me to discover my voice. She's been an influence of mine for my whole life.”
For Vandever, that family connection and that lineage cannot be overemphasized. In the liner notes for Mana, they focus on the importance of Hawaiian mythology and ancestry as inspiration for their solo work. Mana, which in Hawaiian means “foundational, supernatural, or divine power and strength,” reveals more of their voice and words, drawing from yearning, loss, and bewilderment.
From Vandever's liner notes for Mana: "Mana in Hawaiian culture is the divine and supernatural spirit that gives strength and power to living beings, places, and objects. In traditional Hawaiian society, mana lived in Ali'i, known as chiefs and royalty who upheld the kapu (code of conduct) and cared for their people and the land. They possessed the most mana due to their believed relation to Gods and their responsibilities to the islands. In modern culture, mana can be felt, cultivated, and strengthened as you grow closer to your inner self, native land, and ancestral power. I carry the stories, wisdom, and care of my ancestors as I navigate grief, love, community, and exploration and feel my sense of mana deepening when I play for them."
In the last few years Vandever has had several opportunities to travel to Hawaii to play music, and it seems to have shed new light onto their personal connection to Hawaiian mythology and ancestry and how it relates to their musical expression—a meeting of their familial and professional life that represents a sort of closing of a circle.
“My experience of going to Hawaii when I was younger was purely to see family, and it always felt very separate from music,” they explain. “A lot of my Hawaiian family doesn’t really travel, so they weren't able to see me perform until the last couple of years. I’m just feeling really grateful that there's been this convergence, and I feel like it really influences the way that I play, and to have this confidence and when I play the solo set. I think a lot about the presence of family and ancestry when I play—connection with family that I've lost.”
The final song on Mana is “Holding,” Vandever’s version of a breakup song. Swirling, suspended chords pile up beneath a trombone-led intro, concentrating into droning clusters of soft synth-like sound. These frenetic yet melodically unchanging tones become a gentle beeswarm bed for Vandever’s simple and direct lyricism, the most apparent point of new growth on the album itself, delivered with the same floating confidence as their trombone work:
Holding on to you
Will you hold me til the end?
Will you release me?
I will release you
I am holding
An EP released in 2015 featuring an experimental concept of computer-controlled acoustic instruments. Its minimal, fragmentary compositions retain the physical resonance of piano and drums while crafting rhythms and phrases impossible for human hands. This peculiar sonic world, like a robot's improvised performance, possesses an avant-garde quality resonating with contemporary music and sound art. An important work regarded as emblematic of Aphex Twin's “experimental spirit.”
Ricky V runs wild on Mohammad Reza Mortazavi’s Persian tombak hand drum actions, expanding a 4 min kernel of inspiration into 24 minutes of mesmerising polyrhythmic traction. From an original 'Swamp' piece that practically recalls Ricardo’s style of slinky minimal techno sorcery to begin with, the Chilean-German maverick derives a more driving tract of rough hewn rhythmic grit bound to hypnotise dancefloors for the duration. Accentuating the undulating bass and dialling up the volume whilst retaining the frictional grind of the original, Villalobos gets right inside the groove with typically obsessive tekkerz, plucking out additional string motifs and tempering the flow with signature, taut but sinuous, loosey goosey flex that cross-pollinates cultures and gets right under the skin of the thing. Mohammad Reza Mortazavi (b. 1979, Iran) is a virtuoso percussionist known for his groundbreaking work with the tombak and daf, traditional Persian drums that he has radically redefined through new playing techniques and extended vocabulary. Mortazavi began playing the tombak at the age of six. By nine, he had already outpaced his teacher and won Iran’s national tombak competition — a distinction he would earn six more times. By his early twenties, he was widely regarded as one of the foremost players of the instruments. Since then, his music has continued to evolve, embracing new forms and vocabularies beyond tradition. Ricardo Villalobos (b. 1970, Chile) is a pioneering figure in minimal techno, celebrated for his hypnotic approach to rhythm. Raised in Germany after his family fled Pinochet’s regime, Villalobos was drawn early to percussion — he began playing congas and bongos at eleven, developing a tactile relationship to rhythm that would later inform his distinctive production style. Immersed in both Latin American folk traditions and the emerging house and techno scenes of late-80s Europe, he began DJing and producing in the early 1990s, quickly achieving cult status within global club culture. Swamp originally appears on the album Nexus, released in 2025 via Latency.