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Miyazake collaborator Joe Hisaishi's accompaniment to 1993 crime thriller 'Sonatine' is another lovingly repackaged oddity from the WRWTFWW stable; one of Hisaishi's personal favorites, it's an eccentric, vividly colored mash-up of global percussion, Tangerine Dream-style cosmic minimalism and earworm piano themes.
Hisaishi isn't the first person we'd think of if we were directing a gangster film, but we're not Takeshi Kitano. The award-winning pianist and composer has penned over 100 scores, and is best known for his work with Hayao Miyazaki, having worked on all but one of his films, but he also nurtured a close relationship with Kitano, scoring 'Kids Return', 'Hana-bi' and 'Dolls', among others. 'Sonatine' is one of Kitano's most acclaimed films, and follows an aging yakuza (played by Kitano) who expressionlessly contemplates his decisions as his time ticks away. Somehow, Hisaishi takes this prompt as an opportunity to work in technicolor, juxtaposing his expectedly jaunty motifs with plasticky fanfares, Midori Takada-style marimba sequences, hand drum workouts and wyrd library psych detours.
We don't fully remember how the soundtrack meshed with the visuals (it's been a while), but as a stand-alone, Hisaishi's bizarre suite of cues works remarkably well. 'Sonatine' arrived over a decade after 'MKWAJU', his outstanding African-inspired collaboration with Takada, and his new age/kosmische-slanted solo album 'Information', and there are traces of each to be found here. Centerpiece track 'Into A Trance' might lack the Prophet 5-powered bite of 'Information', but its Reich-to-YMO electroid minimalism echoes the themes, and 'Eye Witness', a wonky ethno-scrunch of sitar drones, hollow reversed percussive thumps, shamisen plucks and sampled vocal stings is a tongue-in-cheek extension of Hisaishi and Takada's high-minded concepts.
Elsewhere, Hisaishi tries his hand at tabla-tinted Hammond psych on 'Mobius Band', and deploys a Miyazake-ready solo piano heart-melter with 'Light and Darkness'.
Miyazake collaborator Joe Hisaishi's accompaniment to 1993 crime thriller 'Sonatine' is another lovingly repackaged oddity from the WRWTFWW stable; one of Hisaishi's personal favorites, it's an eccentric, vividly colored mash-up of global percussion, Tangerine Dream-style cosmic minimalism and earworm piano themes.
Hisaishi isn't the first person we'd think of if we were directing a gangster film, but we're not Takeshi Kitano. The award-winning pianist and composer has penned over 100 scores, and is best known for his work with Hayao Miyazaki, having worked on all but one of his films, but he also nurtured a close relationship with Kitano, scoring 'Kids Return', 'Hana-bi' and 'Dolls', among others. 'Sonatine' is one of Kitano's most acclaimed films, and follows an aging yakuza (played by Kitano) who expressionlessly contemplates his decisions as his time ticks away. Somehow, Hisaishi takes this prompt as an opportunity to work in technicolor, juxtaposing his expectedly jaunty motifs with plasticky fanfares, Midori Takada-style marimba sequences, hand drum workouts and wyrd library psych detours.
We don't fully remember how the soundtrack meshed with the visuals (it's been a while), but as a stand-alone, Hisaishi's bizarre suite of cues works remarkably well. 'Sonatine' arrived over a decade after 'MKWAJU', his outstanding African-inspired collaboration with Takada, and his new age/kosmische-slanted solo album 'Information', and there are traces of each to be found here. Centerpiece track 'Into A Trance' might lack the Prophet 5-powered bite of 'Information', but its Reich-to-YMO electroid minimalism echoes the themes, and 'Eye Witness', a wonky ethno-scrunch of sitar drones, hollow reversed percussive thumps, shamisen plucks and sampled vocal stings is a tongue-in-cheek extension of Hisaishi and Takada's high-minded concepts.
Elsewhere, Hisaishi tries his hand at tabla-tinted Hammond psych on 'Mobius Band', and deploys a Miyazake-ready solo piano heart-melter with 'Light and Darkness'.
A surprising suite of new material from popular kankyō ongaku vanguard Yutaka Hirose, 'Voices' is a chaotic collage of field recordings, rickety beatbox loops, rough-textured samples and psychedelic synths - ambient it ain't. It's fascinating to hear 'Voices' because when you've not seen much new material emerge from an artist since their classic era, the expectation is that they've simply stopped producing. Hirose is best known for his 1986-released 'Nova' album, a record commissioned by the Misawa Home Corporation for use in their prefab houses and rediscovered online (like Midori Takada's 'Through the Looking Glass' or Hiroshi Yoshimura's 'Green') decades later. WRWTFWW Records already reissued that record, bundling it with almost an hour of extra material, and followed it up with an additional archive of Hirose's '80s recordings, but 'Voices' brings us right into the present. So it shouldn't be too surprising that the album is markedly different from its predecessors. You'll get a good idea of what to expect with the 12-minute opener 'Library', a track that sounds like Hirose is scrubbing through his archive of sounds, layering public transport ambiance with movie samples, off-hand vocal takes, radio chatter, jazz stems and squelchy back-room rhythms. Like Akira Umeda's similarly spannered 'Gueixa', it's a head-melting stream-of-consciousness experience, not really music so much as a vortex of sound. Hirose's four 'The Other Side' tracks are more straightforward balearic techno experiments offset by peculiar environmental recordings, and these are peppered through the album - no doubt to lighten the mood. Elsewhere, Hirose gets into grinding, ritualistic IDM on 'Uprising', and threads brittle beats and acidic synths through a dense fog of bird calls and chat on 'Mixture'. He's been busy.
Throwing Shapes
Debut album
From the minds of Méabh McKenna, Ross Chaney, and WRWTFWW mainstay Gareth Quinn Redmond comes the self-titled debut of Throwing Shapes — a hypnotic, texturally rich exploration in sound. Led by the striking timbre of the Irish wire strung harp, the album weaves intricate instrumental tapestries with ambitious electronic synthesis and arrangements.
Limited edition LP is housed in a heavyweight sleeve and comes with a poster / 300 copies worldwide
Roberto Cacciapaglia is an Italian composer and pianist who started out in the fertile Milan avant-garde scene of the 1970s, which included Franco Battiato, Giusto Pio, Lino Capra Vaccina, Francesco Messina, among others. After studying at the conservatory, he worked at RAI's Studio of Musical Phonology – an electronic music laboratory similar to NDR/WDR in Germany, GRM/IRCAM in France or BBC Radiophonic Workshop.
Originally released in 1979, Sei Note In Logica (Six Notes In Logic) is Cacciapaglia's second album. While his debut, Sonanze, offers a series of ambient mini-soundtracks, Sei Note presents a singular, sinuous piece. The composition is based on a finite set of musical notes, yet this limitation is the point of departure for a grand tour of possible combinations and enthralling timbres (marimbas, strings, reeds and human voice).
Like Steve Reich's Music For 18 Musicians, the joyous experiment of Sei Note is grounded in constant variation. Often doubled by multiple instruments, non-repeating patterns are exquisitely layered, while electro-acoustic signals transform and further refract through visceral effects. Within this conceptual framework, Cacciapaglia does not so much juxtapose rigid dichotomies – acoustic vs. electronic, melodic vs. dissonant, simple vs. complex – as fuse them into an expansive whole.
What started as an inspired study in Minimalism becomes a bold feat of 20th century music. Sei Note In Logica is deeply sincere and, at the same time, quite playful. With one foot firmly planted in the past and the other steeped in technology, Cacciapaglia's influence can be heard in the work of Jim O'Rourke, Fennesz and Ben Vida.
1994 second album by the trio of Andrew Weatherall, Jagz Kooner and Gary Burns, unavailable on vinyl and CD since original release. A concept album with accompanying text for each track by James Woodbourne, it also includes additional production by Portishead and Mr Scruff. Remastered from the original tapes by Matt Colton, contains “Theme” for the first time on the 2LP edition.
Composed through the fall 2024 while Nala was 28 years old, The Smashing Machine is Sinephro’s first film score, following her two highly-acclaimed albums Space 1.8 and Endlessness.
Vanligt Folk unleashes their most daring work yet with Dischorealism, a wild mix of crabby 2-step rhythms, echoing yowls, and noisy club shapes. Following their 2017 release Palle Bondo, the Swedish trio continue to blur the lines between noise, club, and outsider pop, crafting a sound unlike any other.
This time, they focus on tight, groove-driven beats, while maintaining their signature weirdness with gravelly dub-noise textures, twisted hooks, and unsettling, possessed vocals. Exploring themes of friendship, sex, violence, and drug abuse, Dischorealism takes an impressionistic approach, leaving ideas open to interpretation and creating an eerie atmosphere that works on both the dancefloor and in more intimate settings.
With over a dozen tracks in 42 minutes, the album pulls from a range of influences—from fellow Scandinavians SHXCXCHCXSH to the dissonant, lo-fi worlds of V/Vm and Börft—but remains unmistakably Vanligt Folk. Highlights include the blunted 2-step of ‘DISKDASKO’, the acid-tinged ‘ÜNG GÜD’, and the peculiar odd-pop textures of ‘TJUF’. It’s an album that keeps you guessing, always on the edge of something strange.
International man of dub techno mystery, Shinichi Atobe returns to DDS with a new double album of pensile steppers and lip-smacking, feathered swang, a good 10 years since first crossing paths with Demdike Stare’s label - a massive RIYL for any heads into DJ Sprinkles, Red Planet, Mike Huckaby, Sususmu Yokota, Convextion, NWAQ.
For years people were convinced that Atobe was a well known artist (probably German) working incognito. Thanks to a flowery twitter feed, plus some interviews, all that distraction has been finally laid to rest. Still offering little in the way of biographical factoids, though, Atobe lets the music do the talking in typically emotively nuanced and special style on his 7th album ‘Discipline’, offering further refinements of prevailing, salient ‘90s deep house, dub techno and ambient scenes cultivated and pruned to near perfection.
Hailing a sensuality and feel for spaced movement that’s been lost to club music’s EQ arms race over the decades, he comes poised with a near ineffable lightness of being, flush with a newfound effervescence that’s come to define his work in recent years. There’s a real electro-acousmagique in-the-mix that conveys beautifully at low or high volume, elegantly guiding bodies in motion like little else.
Atobe’s grasp of deferred gratification and tempered gravitas is really the key thing, carrying from the fluttering 8-bit melodies and purring techno bass of ‘SA DUB 1’ to tender beatdown and blushing FM chords, then into flirtations with hair-kissing trance like Convextion and AGCG gone Goa in ‘SA DUB 2’, thru brisk Red Planet techno and a sort of shoegazing, acidic panorama in ‘SA DUB 5’, defining Terrence Dixon-esque levels of Motor City mechanical nous on ‘SA DUB 6’, and into the subaquatic, pearlescent dub house promise of ‘SA DUB 7’.
Chef’s kisses, all the way.
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Chicago Underground Duo is the long-running collaborative project of composer/trumpeter/electronicist Rob Mazurek (Exploding Star Orchestra, Isotope 217, New Future City Radio with Damon Locks) and composer/drummer/mbiraist Chad Taylor (jaimie branch’s Fly or Die, Marshall Allen’s Ghost Horizons, Luke Stewart’s Silt Trio). Hyperglyph is their first album in 11 years, and 8th in the absolute cabinet of wonders that is the Chicago Underground Duo.
The pair have played music together in a multitude of formations over nearly three decades, including their ongoing partnership in Mazurek’s large-format-skyward-expressionism vehicle Exploding Star Orchestra, in the expanded Chicago Underground Trio & Quartet (with guitarist Jeff Parker), and in a plethora of other assemblages. The early albums by the Duo have proven to be embryonic blueprints for the avant-jazz / electronic / indie rock hybridizations of the time, making them majorly important moments in the articulation of the “jazz” dimensionality of the then-burgeoning "post rock" sound. That sound, of course, was being transmitted far and wide due to the success of these groups as well as Mazurek’s Isotope 217 project with Jeff Parker, and the Chicago Underground’s frequent collaborators in Tortoise.
But the sounds being created by this extended family are and were far from static. Just as most of the still-working artists born of that Chicago era have evolved, reconfigured, and grown, Chicago Underground Duo has undergone a number of musical moltings, with the project always in the background of disparate individual aural investigations — always an option, always an outlet. As the project drops off and picks back up, the concurrent personal evolutions of Mazurek and Taylor make the Duo a true reflection of their own lives and friendship.
“Rob is my longest collaborator and also one of my best friends,” says Taylor, who first performed with Mazurek at a club in Chicago in 1988, aged 15.
“When it feels right we do it,” says Mazurek of the gaps in duo activity. “We have worked together and have been friends for a long time. This creates a kind of continuity not only in the music, but in our lives.”
Musically, there are certainly internalized nods here to AACM composers like Wadada Leo Smith, or albums like Don Cherry & Ed Blackwell’s “Mu” and El Corazon, but the songs of Hyperglyph exemplify Mazurek and Taylor’s individualities while also addressing another longtime influence on the Chicago Underground Duo sound — the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost of extreme studio editing in jazz-adjacent music, Miles Davis and Teo Macero’s Bitches Brew, In A Silent Way, and Get Up With It.
“Post production has always been a big part of our process,” says Taylor.
“Sometimes it just flows and we one-take a thing,” Mazurek elaborates. “Other things take time to ferment. We hit those hard in the post production.”
International Anthem engineer Dave Vettraino was indispensable as part of this process, recording and mixing the entire album at IARC HQ in Chicago. “We are very open and free in the studio,” says Mazurek. “Working with Dave is a joy because he is so intuitive and open with his approach as well. We can try anything with him. In this way it is more like a trio than a duo.”
Couple this trio’s take on the now classic cut-and-recut production techniques of Davis/Macero with Mazurek and Taylor’s longtime interest in deep electronic sounds (think Bernard Parmegiani, Morton Subotnick, Xenakis, Eliane Radigue, Plux Quba), transformative processing (think Autechre, King Tubby, Mouse On Mars, Carl Craig) and we can finally get close to understanding just where the duo lands in this lineage — this ongoing narrative each individual finds themselves in whether they see it or not. The Chicago Underground Duo, it seems, sees it.
While the musical language of Mazurek and Taylor can certainly be clocked in the slew of projects that they participate in together, the sound of a Chicago Underground Duo album is singular among them. Hyperglyph is no exception and could even be considered a distillation of that intuitive yet complex sound. A key can be found in the title of the album itself: highly complex geometric structures which can seem overly complex at first but, when thousands are arrayed in 3D space and with user training and adaptation, can significantly enhance perception and information assimilation and lead to new knowledge and insights.
The album opener “Click Song” kicks off with a blown-out horn chant from Mazurek, doubled by tuned bells and nestled into a muscular and symmetrical stereo-overdubbed polyrhythm from Taylor. Synthesized bass pulls our ears along cyclically, dropping in and out to almost severe dynamic effect while Mazurek and the subtle-yet-persistent bells elaborate upon the melody before ultimately departing from their repetitive psalm in favor of improvisation. It’s all held together by the steady, deep, chest-thump boom of Taylor’s kick drum pattern.
“There has always been a lot of African influence in the rhythms we play,” says Taylor. “With this record, specifically, we utilize rhythms from Nigeria, Mali, Zimbabwe, and Ghana.” Taken as a whole, spiritually, this introductory three-minute stomper lives somewhere between a Tuareg wedding and the most hypnotic moments of the click songs of Northern Africa.
Title track “Hyperglyph” follows, and begins with a chromatic moving harmony played by Mazurek on the RMI electric piano, an instrument famously utilized on Miles Davis’ groundbreaking Filles de Kilimanjaro. The vibe here, though, is one of unyielding, trancelike repetition. The trumpet introduces the time, with Taylor's chunky smacking rhythm hitting hard from the get go. Eventually, the tune undergoes a transformation, with the back and forth of melody and rhythm hitting a fever pitch. A pitch-shifted trumpet becomes a New Orleans march baritone. Dennis Bovell-style dub sounds enter (or, maybe, reveal themselves) at the start of the song’s final movement, followed by wordless incantations. Swelling and saturated, the track sounds as if it’s about to tear itself apart. Static pulsing merges and overtakes the recorded percussion to present a new rhythm of hissing electronics — the harnessed wailing of the unleashed ghost in the machine. A spiritual awakening from the bowels of the earth.
“Hemiunu”, a Chad Taylor composition, is a waltz based around a simple piano figure repeated throughout. A folk melody from anywhere, the kind that’s been in the air for as long as anyone can remember. One might imagine the melody played clawhammer on an Appalachian afternoon, bowed somberly on the Chinese erhu, or hummed nonchalantly on the factory line. From the jump, Taylor’s percussion threads itself into the sound of a well-worn upright piano as the high register is haunted in wide stereo by that roiling RMI electric piano in octaves, alternately dubby and harplike. Enter Mazurek with another folk-like melodic phrase. Pause. Again. Pause. Leaving room for the now densely waltzing bouquet to bloom before diving deep into laser-sharp Lee Morganesque territory with a wildly vibrating high trumpet cry, but with a tone Mazurek owns completely.
The deeper reference for Mazurek’s most untethered emotional playing is his late friend and mentor Bill Dixon, an extraction most apparent in the three-part "Egyptian Suite.” At the start of part one (“The Architect”) a cyclical pattern from Taylor becomes a bed for Mazurek’s repeating, descending, synthetic-Egyptian scaled theme. This call to action dissolves into the second movement, “Triangulation of Light,” where Taylor’s bowed cymbals set the stage for an exploration of microtonal color with and against the occasional joining and un-joining of tones that stretch the frequencies to their limits from Mazurek's open and half muted trumpet. Like a tornado siren in the distance, breaking through the membrane of storm clouds on the horizon, in search of another siren.
The third and final movement, “Architectonics of Time,” announces itself with free rolling swaths of percussion from Taylor à la Robert Frank Pozar’s mind-bending percussion on The Bill Dixon Orchestra’s classic Intents and Purposes. Here, though, the lineup is limited to two, with no overdubs or post-production. Taylor's singular style and Mazurek's tonal painting coalesce into a maelstrom of intervallic tone and beat before the final repeat of the lead melody from the suite’s first movement. It truly feels like reaching the summit. It’s pure and free duo interaction, the symbiosis of 30 years.
“Succulent Amber,” the final track on Hyperglyph, could fit just as easily on side two of Autobahn. After a brief modular synth-induced pan-harmonic melody shift, a steady kalimba is joined by the gentle intermittent raindrop-melodicism of the RMI electric piano in this understated final duo performance, unadorned by further studio arrangement. It’s a full-on comedown moment after the intensity of “Egyptian Suite,” though rather than winding down or petering out, here the Chicago Underground Duo still manage to point toward some kind of incoming mystery with four sudden-yet-patient ascending chords on the low-register of the RMI electric piano just before the curtains close. The piano notes end on a leading tone, leaving the resolution to the listener.
Once we’ve climbed the mountain, they remind us, we have to deal with what’s on the other side.
it was recorded live at my first concert in new york city in the summer of 2022, right before i recorded iiyo iiyo iiyo and right after i recorded the doober with sam gendel and then Nothing with Louis Cole.
i think it is my most grooving record.
After following Luke Blair's work for approaching two decades from his 2007 debut as Lukid on Actress' Werk Discs, we're humbled to present a new album on Death Is Not The End. Following relatively hot on the heels of 2023's Tilt (his first in 11 years, not counting his work with Jackson Bailey under the Rezzett guise) Underloop brings Blair's innate knack for building loops and sound structures further to the surface, while allowing his ear for emotional expression to be dialled up a notch.
Those fortunate enough to be familiar with Lukid's work as a DJ will be aware of how distinct his ability is to seamlessly disappear into loop-based abstraction and back again seemingly without blinking, and often Underloop feels much like a collection of the sludgey interludes and foggy sketches that underpin his sets. Blending apparently ramshackle melodies and textures and pulling them together into an undeniable whole, Blair's tendency for pairing the simple and the indescribable with an understated vigour is fully on show here.
Conna Haraway follows Spatial Fix with Shifted, a three-track 12” that turns toward propulsion and restraint. Where the earlier record sprawled in dense textures, this one explores sleek momentum and subtle form. Side A holds ‘Redirect’, an eleven-minute collaboration with XENIA REAPER. Built from a late-night Glasgow jam, her luminous synth line drifts against Haraway’s bass and loops, gliding into weight and pulse. On the flip, ‘Detach’ and ‘Duration’ channel a rediscovered love of 4x4 techno. Stripped and detailed, they balance home-listening depth with club-ready swing—poised, fluid, and adaptable. Fans of the Basic Channel axis, Deepchord, echospace [detroit] etc. should check this for sure. Matthew Kent's Short Span label never misses!!
12th Isle ready the first of many new releases after a break over the first half of 2025. Radx is a new collaborative endeavour between label artists X.Y.R. and Vlad Dobrovolski (½ of S A D) exploring a shared appreciation of vintage 80s & 90s synthesisers, ambient-adjacent furniture music and, er, dragons. Referencing the electronica of artists such as Kim Cascone/Hydrosphere as well as the sci-fi literature of Michael Swanwick where dragons act as living machines, the pair combine various synthesis models, pedals and samplers for an album that sits somewhere firmly between each of their solo works. From the cathedralic ascension of ‘Heavenly Shepherd of Silence’ to the back-room bean bag swirls of ‘Ovgo’s Etheric Mind’ and dense, jungle-like humidity of ‘Liminal Space’, the more ambient-leaning end of the catalogue is built upon further.
“Everything Is Being Recorded All The Time” is the debut album of Troubadours, a tentacular collective composed of Laura Lippie, Kim Khan, Dr. Winzo, Vahan Soghomonian, Diane Barbé and many others. Shaped over the course of three years between Lyon, Abbecourt, Berlin and Denpasar, the Troubadours wove together orphic sounds from both ancient and high tech instruments – machines cold to the touch which warm as electrical and sonic currents awaken them,. What the Troubadours create is not just music, each track is in itself a world where aural narratives roil with tribulation, stillness remembers chaos and fleeting emotion finds enduring form. These moments pulse with singularity – they are the nights we try to hold onto, the feelings we’re afraid we won’t feel again, triggers, honesty, freedom – and are the things that the Troubadours capture through their improvised riffs and hours-long studio jams, synthesizing purity. “Everything Is Being Recorded All The Time” is but one chapter in their story, where they have documented their recent past and the multiplicity of selves they house within. Though each track is profoundly personal, the themes explored speak to what it means to be alive today. Troubadours are happy to welcome you on board for their journey : whether you find it nerve-racking or soul-soothing is no longer their responsibility. Expect the unexpected.
Our season's first edition by the mighty Woo is an ode to Sweet Peas. It is a thoughtfully curated collection of ambient, minimalist, and new-age soundscapes designed to be the perfect soundtrack for moments of sowing these seeds, which accompany every release in quiet reflection.
Composed by the renowned duo Woo—Mark and Clive Ives — this is one of a series of five unreleased albums from their archives. The release combines soothing tones from clarinet, guitars, percussion, and electronic elements, creating the perfect soundtrack for gardeners and music lovers alike. Featuring tracks like “Golden Hours” and “Earth Angels,” this album is an ode to the slow, rewarding process of growth and new beginnings. “Like nature, our approach has always been quite random,” the brothers state, “ as with planting seeds the process has a purity that can bring unexpected results.”
Accompanying each release will be a special seed insert chosen by the artist to enhance the tactile and organic experience of the music. These seeds symbolise the potential for growth and connection to the natural world, aligning with the music's meditative and nurturing qualities.
For this release, the brothers have chosen Sweet Peas:
“To our surprise and delight, Sweet Peas can be planted in the autumn and they’ll blossom in the coming spring”
Each release will be in physical form on a recycled cassette, which will precede its digital counterpart by a few months, allowing the music to be experienced in its intended form first.
As Clive puts it: “Much like nature, music is an ever-evolving process. With this project our aim was to achieve an unpredictable organic flow that still feels harmonious.”