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From the depths of the most independent and revolutionary underground, a handful of tracks from the repertoires (often limited even to a single flexi disc) of some of the heroes who rode the wave, extracting from it—more for themselves and expressive necessity than for us—its most mystical and expressionist essence. New and No Wave, minimal and minimalist electronics, Avant Wave from the land where the sun still rises for now.
Originally released in 1980 and long regarded as one of the most avant‑garde statements of its era, Hansten Klork captures Metabolist at the intersection of post‑punk restlessness and uncompromising experimentalism. The album’s stark textures, motoric rhythms, and hypnotic minimalism reveal a band equally indebted to kraut‑rock repetition, post‑industrial atmospheres, and the austere clarity of minimalism—creating a distinct, unsettling sound that still sounds contemporary today. This reissue restores the original record in full and adds six rare bonus tracks drawn from the band’s singles (“Drömm/Slaves,” “Identify”) and the split 7‑inch with Die Form. These extras expand the album’s narrative, showcasing Metabolist’s willingness to push structural and sonic boundaries—short, fierce sketches and elongated, trance‑like explorations that map the group’s experimental trajectory.
The music in this cassette comes from 1985 and is part of a cycle of sound experimentation (1983-1988) whose results have remained almost entirely unpublished, and whose recordings were even lost for decades until a few original tapes reappeared by chance. The Lost Tapes is conceptual noise music made without resorting to any type of musical instruments, not even synthesizers; using artisanal methodologies in order to generate noises, recordings with radio-cassettes, modifications through basic pedals for electric guitar and assembly techniques in cut-ups, loops and superimpositions. This reassambled edition has been published in 2024 with the reference EGK023, following the legendary k7 series edited by Discos Esplendor Geométrico back in the 1980s. To purchase the complete k7 with extensive liner notes by Marcelo Expósito and Mattin: www.rotordiscos.com/catalogo/the-lost-tapes/4912/ www.soundohm.com/product/marcelo-exposito-lost-tap "The Lost Tapes offers us some secret homemade gems recordings from the 1980s rich Spanish underground. The Spanish transition from fascism to democracy was not as smooth as they wanted us to believe. Still, there were many traumas to deal with, and noise music was the perfect medium to channel them. If noise in the 80s Japan was the acceleration of transgression resembling the economic boom that was going on in the country, Marcelo Expósito has worked through the unconscious shit that Spain was still dealing with at the time. Unfortunately, we still suffer those resonances. These recordings are part of an avant-garde that still has not been fully recuperated and give us a lesson from the past into the future: never give up on the power of noise to denaturalise and challenge the values of fascism." Liner notes by Mattin. Anti-copyright. Author of, among others, Noise & Capitalism (Co-editor, 2009), Object of Thought (LP, 2010), Unconstituted Praxis (Book, 2012), Social Dissonance (Book, 2022) and Seize the Means of Complexity (LP, 2023).
Parisian label Latency presents "Without References / Cindy van Acker (Variations)", a new release by goat (JP) and legendary producer Ricardo Villalobos. For this project, Villalobos reinterprets two tracks – "Orin" and "Factory" – originally composed by goat (JP) for choreographer and performance artist Cindy van Acker’s dance piece "Without References". The release follows Latency’s recent publication of Villalobos’ variation on percussionist Mohammad Reza Mortazavi’s "Swamp" (Latency, 2025), continuing the label’s exploration of reinterpretation and rhythmic dialogue. goat (JP), led by Osaka-based composer Koshiro Hino (YPY, Kakuhan, Boredoms, Mark Fell), is widely regarded as a leading force in contemporary minimalist composition. In “Without References/Cindy Van Acker”, goat (JP) transforms non-tonal rhythmic patterns into intricate, hypnotic structures with remarkable depth. In this new version, the group’s simultaneously tribal and futuristic sound is reshaped by Villalobos’ distinctive production style, which draws from both minimalist techno and Latin American rhythmic traditions. Ricardo Villalobos is a pioneering figure in minimal techno, known for his hypnotic and deeply rhythmic approach to electronic music. Born in Chile and raised in Germany after his family fled Pinochet’s regime, Villalobos developed an early fascination with percussion, beginning to play congas and bongos at the age of eleven. This tactile engagement with rhythm continues to inform his production work today. Influenced by both Latin American folk traditions and the emerging house and techno scenes of late-1980s Europe, he began DJing and producing in the early 1990s and quickly gained cult status within global club culture. Cindy van Acker’s dance piece "Without References" features scenography by visionary choreographer Romeo Castellucci. The stage environment evokes a space that shifts between a waiting room, a train station hall, and a mid-century installation. Eleven dancers interpret Van Acker’s precise yet fluid movements, interacting with goat (JP)’s percussive, stripped-down compositions to create a visceral and immersive performance. The artwork features photographs by Magali Dougados from a staging of "Without References" at the Maison de la Culture de Seine-Saint-Denis.
Martin Rev’s fifth solo album – Strangeworld – was released on the cusp of the new millennium. The label responsible was Puu, a Finnish imprint belonging to Tommi Grönlund and Mika Vainio’s Sähkö Recordings which came to fame in the 1990s on the strength of its uncompromising minimalist sound.
Four years earlier, in 1996, Rev had unleashed See Me Ridin, an album which surprised its listeners with keyboard melody sketches and distilled doo-wop compositions. It was also the first solo album to feature Martin Rev on vocals.
Strangeworld started where its predecessor left off. Melodic passages dissolved into a thicket of fragments and set pieces, coalescing in a celestial shimmer between rhythm loops and Rev’s voice, which assumed the role of an additional instrument rather than a standard singing part.
Originally released in 1989 as Violin Solo. Sept. 3-4, '89. Takehisa Kosugi's improvisations, both with violin and miscellaneous sounding objects, have a sense of emerging from the bottom of a spiritual unconscious. From this place comes a music based more on the feeling of sounds than conscious arrangement. Memory, physical action, tactile perceptions, environmental conditions, and awareness of subconscious microcosmic and macrocosmic extremes inform his work as much as the intention to assemble sounds into music. When listeners connect with his sounds, a direct identification of experience occurs between audience and performer. Personnel: Takehisa Kosugi - electric violin.
When they were there they saw a lone woman coming to the door of the Hostel, after sunset, and seeking to be let in. As long as a weaver’s beam was each of her two shins, and they were as dark as the back of a stag-beetle. A greyish, wooly mantle she wore. Her lower hair used to reach as far as her knee. Her lips were on one side of her head. She came and put one of her shoulders against the door-post of the house, casting the evil eye on the king and the youths who surrounded him in the Hostel. He himself addressed her from within. "Well, O woman," says Conaire, "if thou art a wizard, what seest thou for us?” "Truly I see for thee," she answers, "that neither fell nor flesh of thine shall escape from the place into which thou hast come, save what birds will bear away in their claws.” "It was not an evil omen we foreboded, O woman," saith he: "it is not thou that always augurs for us. What is thy name, O woman?” "Calib," she answers. "That is not much of a name," says Conaire. "Lo, many are my names besides.” "Which be they?" asks Conaire. "Easy to say," quoth she. "Samon, Sinand, Seisclend, Sodb, Caill, Coll, Díchóem, Dichiúil, Díthím, Díchuimne, Dichruidne, Dairne, Dáríne, Déruaine, Egem, Agam, Ethamne, Gním, Cluiche, Cethardam, Níth, Némain, Nóennen, Badb, Blosc, B[l]oár, Huae, óe Aife la Sruth, Mache, Médé, Mod.” On one foot, and holding up one hand, and breathing one breath she sang all that to them from the door of the house.
Lolina returns with gg, a track that has become a fixture of her live sets before finally making its way to release. Balancing pop, performance art and uneasy humour, the song moves through uncertainty and contradiction while keeping its momentum intact. This edition features the extended version of ‘gg’ alongside two reworkings that push the track in different directions. An Arca remix reshapes its off-kilter energy into something even more unpredictable, while NEW YORK offers an alternative perspective on the original’s distinctive atmosphere. Part club track, part commentary and part mystery, gg captures Lolina at her most elusive, turning confusion, tension and movement into something oddly compelling.
New esclusive recordings by the one and only master of Japanoise!
All Music by Masami Akita
Recorded at Munemihouse, Tokyo 2024-2025
Mixed at Munemihouse, January 2026
Artwork by AI Generated ©️MA 2026
The Moon and the Melodies is a singular record within the Cocteau Twins’ catalog—unusually ethereal, even by their standards, and largely instrumental, guided by the free-form improvisations of Harold Budd, an ambient pioneer who had drifted into their orbit as if by divine intervention. Building on the atmospheric bliss of Victorialand, released earlier the same year, it signaled a possible future for the trio, yet it was a path the Cocteau Twins would never take again. Now, 28 years after it was first released, it has been reissued for the first time—remastered, from the original tapes, by Robin Guthrie himself.
The album was never actually meant to happen; no one can even recall exactly how it came about in the first place. As both Guthrie and Simon Raymonde remember it, the independent television station Channel 4 approached 4AD about a film project pairing musicians from different genres. In interviews in the 1980s, however, Budd, who passed away in 2020, believed that his music publisher had linked him with the Cocteaus after the group had expressed interest in covering one of his songs. In any case, the film never happened. “But we’d spoken to Harold, and we were all quite excited about it—in a very sort of downbeat Cocteau Twins way, where we were rarely excited about anything,” Raymonde recalls. “We’re like, well, let’s carry on and do it anyway—you’ve already booked your flight, let’s just hang out in the studio and see what happens.”
“There was a lot of hilarity,” Guthrie says. “It was strange to have an older man in our life, because Liz and I saw everybody around us—the contemporary bands, the people running record labels, the journalists—as grownups. We were literally kids. I thought, ‘Oh Christ, he’s going to be some pompous, you know, into his classical music,’ and he wasn’t. He was just a big man-child. We clicked in that respect.”
The Cocteau Twins had recently built their own recording studio in North Acton, in West London. It was the first time they’d had their own space, and they relished their newfound freedom. “We were in this lovely little bubble of making our own music,” Raymonde says. Budd fit right into their bubble world; all four musicians got on immediately. Over pints at the pub, they talked about everything but music, and in the studio, Raymonde and Budd both say that very little, if anything, was discussed, save perhaps for questions of tempo or key.
“Harold would sit down at the piano and start playing something, and then maybe I’d pick up a bass and start playing along with him,” Raymonde says. “They were very much noodles rather than songs. That was the way we tended to work anyway. Work out what kind of mood are we feeling, get a drum beat going, just a two-bar pattern; Guthrie would plug his guitar in, I would plug my bass in, and then we’d just jam for a few minutes and go, ‘Yeah, that was cool, let’s carry on doing that thing or that thing,’ really casually, and then all of a sudden we’d have a song. I know that sounds ludicrous, but that is how we did it, and with Harold it was exactly the same.”
Budd played a Yamaha CP-70 electric grand, and the group came armed with a growing arsenal of gear, like the Yamaha Rev7 multi-effects processor and Lexicon PCM60, perhaps an Ensoniq Mirage. Guthrie used an EBow on his guitars, along with a Gizmo, an electromechanical device invented by Godley and Creme. Guthrie remembers endless experiments in search of new sounds: “Lots of messing around, tuning the guitar strings all the same, getting droney sorts of things—really big, loud, sort of Metallica-like feedback sounds, but then put in the mix so quietly you can hardly hear them the first time you listen. All these psychoacoustic sort of tricks that I liked. It’s all in there, you know. Just being fearless—if it didn’t work out, it was never going to be a record anyway.”
The musicians’ contrasting approaches ended up shaping the album’s somewhat curious format—four instrumentals in Budd’s meandering style, more tone poems than actual songs, and four more structured pieces with verses, choruses, drum machine, and, of course, Elizabeth Fraser’s inimitable singing, as bold and inspired as anywhere in the band’s catalog. There was no conscious decision to have Fraser only sing on four songs. “That’s just what came out of the sessions,” Guthrie says. “It was a lightweight atmosphere making it, because we didn’t actually feel that we were making a record at the time. We were trying out some stuff in the studio, and it just evolved into what it did. Which is, essentially, a recorded version of some people trying out some stuff in the studio.”
The sessions were over in two weeks, maybe three. “And that was already getting a bit long,” Guthrie says, “because some of our earlier records had taken just a couple of days.” They fleshed out the material, he adds, with one more song that the trio wrote in Budd’s absence, after they realized they didn’t have quite enough material for a full album. (“Was I that drunk?” Budd asked, upon hearing the final version of the album, which included a song he had no recollection of making.) As much as it may pain fans to hear it, there is no more extant material from the sessions—no outtakes, no rough drafts, no alternate versions. “For the 13 years I was in the band, we have no spare tracks at all,” Raymonde says. “If after an hour or two a track wasn’t coming together, we’d just get rid of it. If it wasn’t good now, our attitude was, it’ll never be any good. So we’d think, tomorrow’s another day—let’s go to the cinema and come back tomorrow, and see how it goes. Let’s go bowling.”
The other curious thing about the album—the fact that it was credited to all four players under their individual names—followed the same intuitive logic as everything else that went into the record. “It’s because it wasn’t a Cocteau Twins album,” Guthrie says. Raymonde concurs: “It was simple. All four of us have gone into the studio and done something, but it isn’t a Cocteau Twins album.” But perhaps the passage of time has changed matters. These days, on streaming services, you’ll find the album filed chronologically alongside the rest of the band’s work. “What’s interesting,” Guthrie adds, “is that I got the tape boxes from the studio, and guess what it says on it? ‘Cocteau Twins plus Harold Budd.’” Perhaps, he seems to suggest, the group got hung up on a detail that never really mattered. In any case, Raymonde says, “The more credit that Harold gets for the work he did, the more people that find his music because it’s in the Cocteau environment, the better.”
Despite all its quirks, The Moon and the Melodies has attracted a passionate fan base over the years. Its most atmospheric tracks routinely turn up in ambient DJ sets. 'Sea, Swallow Me' is one of the Cocteau Twins’ most streamed songs on Spotify, second only to Heaven or Las Vegas’ 'Cherry-coloured Funk'; it has also found new life on TikTok, where it serves as the soundtrack to innumerable expressions of hard-to-express melancholy. For such a low-key affair, the album casts a long shadow—but Raymonde believes the record’s uniqueness stems directly from its humble, unpremeditated origins. “It’s always about making something that’s pleasurable,” he says, “capturing a moment in time between friends that are enjoying making music together. Really, that’s the essence of it—the music was just a reflection of how nice a time we were having in the studio.”
Senor Coconut's cult classic ‘El Baile Aleman’—one of Atom TM's many aliases—is reissued on vinyl for the first time in 25 years. Born from the half-joking idea that “if you're going to cover Kraftwerk, do it with cha-cha-cha or death metal,” this work reconstructs Kraftwerk's electronic minimalism through tropical imagination. It presents an original sound where cha-cha-cha, mambo, and cumbia intertwine with glitch and breakbeats.
Dj Sprinkles’ debut full length album,continues with themes from 1998’s “Sloppy 42nds: A tribute to the 42nd Street transsexual clubs destroyed by Walt Disney’s buyout of Times Square” (a track recently featured on Ame’s “Coast2Coast” DJ mix compilation for NRK Records).
While the world celebrates the revial of New York House Music, constructing utopian fictions about the genre as it goes along, DJ Sprinkles retreats deep into the bowels of house. This is the rhythm of empty midtown dancefloors resonating with the difficulties of transgendered sex work, black market hormones, drug & alcohol addiction, racism, gender & sexual crises, unemployment, and censorship.
The title song of track1&2 is a real “strictly rhythm” house music. It’s a simple 4/4 beat with piano loop.maybe this is a real minimal house! Third track “Ball’r (madonna-free zone)” is a euphoric mid tempo house.this track reminds jan jelinek or larry heard.
Fourth track “Brenda’s $20 Dilemma” is a sequel of his fag jazz style.check the beautiful kuniyuki remix of this song(mule musiq 34). Fifth track “House Music Is Controllable Desire You Can Own” is a classic new york house style.if you like the record of jus-ed or that kind of artist,you like this song.
Sixth track “Sisters, I Don’t Know What This World Is Coming To” is a one of the highlight song on the album. Actually this track is not 4/4 beat house but very emotional powerfull music. Seventh track “Reverse Rotation” is a deep and madness beautiful song.When you listen this song,you associate the music of theo parrish or pepe bradock.
Eighth&nineth track are main songs of this album. “Grand Central, Pt. I (Deep Into the Bowel of House)” is associated the sound of jungle wonz or virgo. but this song is filled with somthing sadness.check the story about this album from terre,you will see…. http://www.comatonse.com/releases/midtown120blues.html This album is for a real house music lovers.
視聴-Midtown 120 Intro・ミッドタウン１２０イントロ
視聴-Midtown 120 Blues・ミッドタウン１２０ブルース
視聴-Reverse Rotation・後戻り
視聴-Grand Central, Pt. II (72 hrs. by Rail from Missouri)・グランドセントラル駅 パート２（列車でミズーリ州から72時間）
Roy Montgomery and Martha Skye Murphy first connected when Murphy included one of Montgomery’s songs on a mixtape. Conversations about their respective practices soon followed, revealing a shared musical language. They also discovered they used the same recording device, a Tascam recorder, which prioritises process over correction. Their approach embraces layering, multitracking, and imperfection. Since then, they have developed an ongoing creative relationship, regularly sharing music and crossing paths in various projects. Montgomery later featured on Murphy’s 2024 album Um, released via AD 93 to critical acclaim, while Murphy joined Montgomery during his summer 2023 residency at Cafe OTO. What draws them together is the emotional force of each other’s music. Montgomery’s cyclical, decaying compositions are shaped through intricate guitar and piano work, blending post-rock, folk, and drone. Murphy, meanwhile, possesses a rare gift for transformation; though her vocals often resemble fragments of words, consonants, or vowels, they frequently function as pure sound, drawing on glossolalia and prioritising feeling over any ‘learnt’ language. Emotion and intuition are the driving forces behind Nebular, an album that oscillates between the intimate with the unknown. This spirit is reflected in its artwork. Murphy shared a painting by Irish artist Simon English depicting a solitary house bathed in dusky blue light, and the pair quickly settled on it as the cover image. Both were captivated by its atmosphere. Montgomery related it to the isolated, seemingly uninhabited houses he encounters while travelling through rural New Zealand—places that inspire a desire to knock on the door and discover what lies beyond. “Terra incognita springs to mind. A search into the unknown,” Murphy agrees. The nocturnal and remote nature of the artwork mirrors the process of making Nebular. The album was created entirely through remote correspondence, with stems exchanged via email. Their messages were often written and read at different times of day, and, because of the time difference and the demands of daily life, replies usually were sent late at night and the music too often composed at nocturnal hours. Their exchanges took on the quality of pen pals sending letters across great distances. This suspended sense of time is echoed in Nebular’s sound, with its feeling of temporal drift and timelessness. On Nebular, Montgomery and Murphy have harnessed raw emotion and launched it into a time capsule bound for the stars. It allows you to drift, to be present, and to feel; creating something timeless. Martha Skye Murphy comments: “Roy and I have a shared vernacular in the music we make together; a kind of sonic sign language, which allows us to communicate without ever really explaining the material to one another. This is partly due to our shared process, which embraces layers, multitracking and imperfection (for me). I see our collaboration as a continuously unravelling piece of string; one song leads onto the next like a slowly evolving constellation and I’d like to hope we continue in this vein.”
Sensible Soccers x Mad Professor present EP#1 - Dub Versions, a meeting point between Atlantic psychedelia and classic dub techniques. The collaboration pairs the Portuguese trio’s hypnotic grooves with Mad Professor’s deep-rooted studio approach, resulting in a set that moves between dancefloor propulsion and spacious, exploratory textures. ‘Dub de Saia Travada’ and ‘Berlaitada Dub’ lean into heavy basslines and rolling rhythms, built for movement and sound system play. ‘Dub Discreto’ shifts the focus outward, stretching into kosmische territory with nods to Cluster and Klaus Schulze, while retaining the warmth and depth of dub. Bridging styles, scenes and sensibilities, EP#1 - Dub Versions captures a focused exchange between two distinct approaches, reshaped into something fluid and transportive.
"I have always been searching for a way to articulate the intangible area between the recognizable and the unfathomable, a feeling perhaps informed by some long-abandoned experiments with psychedelics. This has been a continued pursuit starting with my tape experiments in the 1970’s until the present, with technological evolution driving new ways of expression. With the exception of Xé May, which is performed on an Elektron Octatrack, these pieces were constructed for live performance using a laptop computer running programs I have built in the MAX programming language. Okajouki and Xé May were composed in 2011, all the rest are from 2018. The pieces use a technique of time slicing that I first started doing back in the 90's, notably with my piece Mom’s, wherein sound files are metaphorically shattered in time like glass and then reorganized into mosaic patterns. The technique used to require laborious preparation outside of real-time before the files could be brought onstage. Now not only can it be done spontaneously while performing, but also with a degree of flexibility that I find quite liberating. They are a lot of fun to play and hopefully to listen." - Carl Stone
TMZ stood out as a fiercely unique presence on TRANSONIC COMPACT DISC 01 and 02, the compilation albums that marked the first standalone releases from the newly reborn TRANSONIC RECORDS. An existence that could well be called an out-of-place artifact in techno history, this debut album bridges the gap between a hidden past and the present.
01.Skylark on 303 / Masaaki Kikuchi
02.The Acid Coming / ACIDWHITEHOUSE
03.Sevnwn / Yuri Suzuki
04.Got Drunk / CHERRYBOY FUNCTION
05.Freq Out / Sigh Society
06.Screaming Bassline (distortional addict) / AcidGelge
07.GROTTO / QUEER NATIONS
08.Cut the Midrange Drop the Acieeed Bass / MUTRON
09.BOWWOW / ACID TAMIYA 346
10.Victim Kid / kuknacke
11.Do It / NASCA CAR
Milestone Reissue! The three discs collected here - housed in a lavish cardboard boxet (+ Includes a 116 page booklet in French and English with biographical notes, essays and program notes for each work, and a 52 page booklet with photographs) - cover the bulk of Pierre Schaeffer's concrète works, beginning with his pre-tape days when he composed using multiple turntables mixing sound effects recordings direct to lathe. The earliest recordings here were created in 1948 during Schaeffer's days as radio engineer for Radiodiffusion Française and are built from sounds ranging from locomotives and whirligigs to pots, pans, piano, and percussion. Each of those collages eventually made their way onto the air. His Suite pour 14 instruments is an amalgam of orchestral sounds rendered far beyond their original context. Where these early works clearly function as experiments for Schaeffer, once Pierre Henry joins in as his assistant, the music takes on both a playfulness and a refinement of detail that eventually became landmarks of the French approach to musique concrète. The processes became increasingly laborious, and those who once flocked to Schaeffer's studio to work in this new medium became disillusioned by the demand and patience that the work required.
The decision to assemble a boxed set titled Luc Ferrari, l’œuvre électronique [Luc Ferrari, Electronic Works], defining the word electronic in the widest sense possible, meant bringing together an essential part of the composer’s work: tape music without any classical instruments.
From Étude aux accidents (1958) to Arythmiques (2003), the 31 works in this compilation will help the listener to discover all the facets of his art based on “captured” sounds. He tried and tested all the different techniques of studio work: brilliantly elaborated electroacoustic works, radiophonic story-telling or Hörspiele, which he particularly relished, or other semi-improvised works.
This editorial choice is not a way of drawing a hierarchy between on the one hand so-called mixed music (with instruments), which he excelled at, and on the other hand the type of music published here, which only includes recorded sounds. On the contrary, what we aimed to do was to show the strong links he drew between natural sounds and the way he scored them. On this subject, Pierre Schaeffer often talked of the necessary balance between sounds and musicality. The power of recorded sounds alone (voices, landscapes, strange sounds, everyday scenes, etc.) without formal mastery is not enough to hold the listener’s attention for long.
From that point of view, each work of Ferrari’s is a discrete lesson in music. Ferrari was always very lucid when he claimed that a composer was a little like a “journalist” who, through his compositions, witnessed the state of the world while at the same time creating a work of art.
This is another aspect of this edition: as we listen and in filigree, half a century unfolds before us. A committed artist bears witness to technological progress, political awareness, reports and crucial encounters. More than an essential compilation, this boxed set reflects the personality of a diverse, inventive and extraordinarily musical man.
Daniel Teruggi / David Jisse, 2008
DJ Plead drops a killer 2nd LP with ‘Please’ for Oslo’s Smalltown Supersound, pursuing a 2020 debut for our lockdown series - ‘Relentless Trills’ on Documenting Sound - with a finer balance of Arabic dancehall swivel and spatio-textural tactility - big RIYL DJ Python, Lenky, Taymour, Muslimgauze. For over a decade Jarred Beeler aka DJ Plead has drawn on his heritage in a unique catalogue of productions splicing microtonal flutes and keys wth dancehall and techno rhythms for the likes of Livity Sound, AD 93, and Air Max 97’s Decisions. With ‘Please’ he picks up where his debut LP ‘Relentless Trills’ left off in 2020 on our Editions series, taking the long form canvas as an ideal place for him to ease off the club gas and open out his ideas with a heightened sensuality and romantic pathos which works a treat on swaying bodies as much as rested minds. Four years since that last solo shot, the ‘Quick EP’ for Livity Sound in ’22, and a plethora of collabs with TSVI, DJ Python, rRoxymore a.o., Plead emerges amid fellow auteurs - Actress, Barker, Jamal Moss - on Oslo’s long-running Smalltown Supersound with increased confidence in his own sound. It’s palpable in his sparing strokes of melody and unhurried pacing, coupled with a tender feel for weightless structures that are just as happy to shrug off the beats and get lost in their own thoughts as he gently grips the hips for an eyes-down shuffle. The mah-ragga-nat single ‘Ride TV’ is a perfect example of his rudely atmospheric tekkerz, and about as hard as it gets, while the rest really gives it up in lushest, hair-kissing style. His feel for richly humid, evocative ambience colours it front to back, from the seductive licks of ‘Return to Deuce’ thru the flamenco trills of ‘Traffic’, taking it to cinematic levels on the floating pads of ‘Seven Eight, Too Late’ and the Vangelisian plumes of ‘Open Era’, to aerial cat’s cradle of flutes and subs to ‘Sush’ and hand-played drums of ‘Right-on Time.’