MUSIC

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）

Electronic musician nthng presents his fifth album, Last Light of the Sun, his debut release on topo2. Renowned for his meticulous productions and quietly distinctive artistic voice, nthng continues to move effortlessly between ambient, IDM, dub techno, and drum & bass without ever feeling bound by genre. Last Light of the Sun shows that the album format is a natural home for nthng's expansive musical vision. Throughout its ten compositions, the album moves gracefully between dreamlike melodic passages, restrained, fragile 4/4 structures, melancholic drum & bass punctuated by vintage house vocal fragments, and spacious ambient compositions that feel unmistakably his own. The double LP is released by adventurous electronic music label topo2 on October 2, 2026. The record is pressed on two 180-gram discs of ICCS-certified bio-vinyl and housed in a heavyweight full-colour gatefold sleeve. Mastered by Isabel Schröer at OLO Mastering, with artwork by Alyssa Warren and Raen Coplin. Additional contributions include bamboo flute on "Flutter" by Temple Rat and typewriting by Karina Rovira.

Ghana x Norway in a deep, rumbling, heartical Afro-beat-dub clash for the ages, tightening binds developed over the course of 12”s and an LP since ’24. Big one FFO classic steppas, Afrobeat, Sotofett’s inimitable magick... Seeded in Sotofett’s mixing/engineering on ‘Dr. Afrodub’ by Ghanaian artist Ekowmania, ‘Dub Souljah’ enriches their bonds on a big, stepping disco-dub and versions of material relating to the album. The multifaceted, Norwegian anomaly simmers ‘Dubsouljah on the good foot with burning roots brass and nyabinhgi’s like some Wareika Hill Sound Special, and take it deep into the echo chamber with spangled spring verb and disembodied voices in the Ultra Dub. The ‘Afrolistic Rock&Roll’ salutes Tony Allen’s precise, pugilist kit work on a tuff Afrobeat dub workout whipped with wicked digital delays, and ‘Kuusikasi Funk (DJ Sotofett Ex10 Dub)’ smears the flutes and brass on a slippery big band Afrobeat bustle primed for summer ’26 festivals.

Forgotten electronic treasures by composer Ton de Leeuw rediscovered: first release in the Dutch Oscillation Series Dutch Oscillation Series (DOS) proudly announces the release of a box set featuring the complete electronic works of Ton de Leeuw (1926–1996). This publication marks the first instalment in a new series that brings the history of Dutch electronic music to life for a broad audience. The official presentation will take place on Saturday, 12 September, during the Gaudeamus Festival for contemporary music in Utrecht. Unique discoveries from the archive. For far too long, twentieth-century Dutch electronic music has remained hidden away in dim archives, only occasionally accessible under optimal conditions. Many compositions have not been heard for decades, perhaps after being presented to an audience only once. For this project, the original tapes were carefully traced in basements and archives, including the mysterious work Chronos, which was rediscovered in the collection of the Netherlands Music Institute (NMI). Even close collaborators of De Leeuw were unaware of the existence of Chronos. Another highlight of this release is the radiophonic oratorio Job (1956), which was awarded the Prix Italia radio prize by broadcaster Rai. The recordings were digitised by experts at the Institute of Sonology and the Instituut voor Beeld en Geluid (Netherlands Institute for Sound and Vision). The music was then meticulously restored and mastered in the studio of Jos Smolders (EARLabs), in accordance with modern standards, while strictly adhering to the composer’s original artistic intentions. The edition includes eight works composed between 1956 and 1982. The collection is released as a deluxe LP and CD box set and is also available via streaming and as high-resolution downloads. For an optimal listening experience, originally four-channel works such as Elektronische Studie (Electronic Study) and Antiphonie (Antiphony) are available as special Dolby Atmos downloads, allowing listeners to experience at home the unique spatial sound world envisioned by Ton de Leeuw. About Ton de LeeuwTon de Leeuw was one of the most influential Dutch composers of the twentieth century. A thinker with a distinctly cosmopolitan outlook, he immersed himself deeply in musical cultures from India, Japan, and Indonesia, among others. His work consistently sought to bridge Eastern and Western musical traditions and concepts. In addition, De Leeuw enjoyed a distinguished academic career. He served for many years as senior lecturer and director at the Amsterdam Conservatory and was affiliated as a senior research fellow with the University of Amsterdam. His book Muziek van de twintigste eeuw (Music of the Twentieth Century) remains a standard reference work.

A cranky, poetic-esoteric nEuro vibe puts wind behind the sails of Inkasso & ML’s maiden Stroom entry and their transition from whispered nocturnes to slompy cyber-slugs. Flickering shadowy integers of post-industrial, trip hop, theatrical music and sound poetry, ‘Fashion Recession’ finds the trio of Inkasso & ML indulging their whims toward a sort of soundtrack-like fantasy that leads on from their respective works for the artful types at Kashual Plastik and Osàre! Editions. The combo of dank synths with blunted vox and squashed grooves tessellates ideally with Stroom’s roster of angular audities primed for late night listening. Historic shades of everything from Tuxedomoon to Geins’t Naït and contemporary analogs Thomas Bush or Sholto Dobie come to mind in the album’s sideways drift from smudged downbeats on ‘Soft Layers’ to blown-out bass thunder in ‘Rhythm is a medium of change’, the soured music box melody of ‘Ghosting’, and striking moments of ‘90s noir in ‘Algorithm Poetry’ that sees it off into the Novo Line-like thrum and acidic croak of ‘Disturbing Circles’. Reckon this would all sound ideal on a solo midweek holiday to Antwerp after a break-up, when trying to write that novel you always intended to do.

A key contributor to Wah Wah Wino’s KWALK, Sli Town Crier steps out solo with Auditions. Drawn from an extensive archive of recordings and assembled by Morgan Buckley, it’s a restless collision of raw chops, battered rhythms and heavily mangled beats. Unpredictable and rough around the edges, Auditions pulls its source material apart and stitches it back together into something gloriously unruly.

Lena Willikens X Elena Colombi live at Lux Fragil, Lisbon 2026 Cover art + design by Alicia Carrera Mastered by Lottie Lou Poulet at Wysyng Arts Centre Manufactured at Tapeline, UK Limited edition cassette tape NO repress 💚 Once they're gone they're gone...

アルバムについて In a continuation of his devotional celebration of the dance, Shed arrives on Dekmantel with Rave Echoes — a supple, mesmerising album of angular techno caught between the heat of peak time and the time-blurred hours after the club. Few artists have nailed the intersection of the intellectual, emotional and physical in techno as evocatively as René Pawlowitz. For more than 20 years and across scores of aliases the Frankfurt/Oder-born, Berlin-based trailblazer has pushed a distinctive strain of machine music in thrall to the functional demands of motion without ever sacrificing subtlety, space, intrigue and expression. While his vast catalogue of work touches on many different moods and energies, on his Dekmantel debut Rave Echoes he shrouds eight forthright workouts in a blanket of misty melancholia to evoke the enchanting afterglow of the party. "It's not nostalgic," Pawlowitz explains. "It's about that feeling that remains for a day, a week or even years after celebrating a rave. I still have that feeling for about 30 years now. This record tries to describe it." The vaporous pads that soar over 'Password (Techno Mix)' certainly come charged with a bittersweet sentiment. Meanwhile the rhythmic locomotion comes on like the rumble of the first train back after leaving the club. The insistent bell loop up top rings out like the hook of the last track that rang out over the soundsystem. It's a sensation familiar to anyone who has spent their last drop of energy at the altar of dance, where exhaustion meets with satisfaction and disorientation as you recalibrate back into the real world. This approach — dreamlike atmospherics and rugged propulsion — takes on many guises across Rave Echoes. It's submerged and restrained on 'Loot 25', speckled with sharply sliced breaks on 'Everybody' and scattered across a sparse, steppy soundscape on 'Rave Predator'. Emotive, swooning strings collide with tough, squashed breakstep drums on 'Double Scoop' and 'Taking You Home' thrusts with urgency even as Pawlowitz softens the spiky transients to make space for pure rave romanticism. There is even space for 'Rave Echoes' itself — the last groove before your eyes finally close, as the beat slows to a weighty trip hop roll and the ambience blooms out into a dense blanket across the frequency range. Bursting with the nuanced production, rugged UK-school soundsystem pressure and Berlin-school techno momentum that makes him such a celebrated producer, on Rave Echoes Shed offers a perfect impression of those wild, indescribable sensory overloads that leave their mark on anyone devoted to the dancefloor.

Music From Memory presents Mood Programs – Extended Play, the debut release from LA MARR, a new project conceived by Ron Trent. The first in an ongoing series for the label, it explores Trent’s fascination with mood, acoustics and the emotional impact of sound within physical space.Drawing inspiration from ambient music, dub, New Age, Krautrock, New Wave and HiFi sound system culture, LA MARR channels decades of sonic exploration into a refined contemporary framework. Built from a blend of analogue techniques and modern production methods, the project focuses on depth, warmth and carefully crafted atmospheres.Across the two tracks, 'Good Magic' and 'Clear', shimmering synth patterns, drifting pads, organic percussion and subtle low-end movement combine to create meditative, spacious compositions. Thoughtfully constructed and richly atmospheric, Mood Programs – Extended Play reflects Trent’s ongoing pursuit of sound as an immersive and transformative experience.

In the early ‘10’s the WPH Summer Special was a yearly tradition: a stamped vinyl only releases featuring lost tracks, one-off collabs, dreaded digital only gems, etc. Some summer specials were so hot we released them in the winter to battle the cold… Guess what? It’s back! Four killer tracks on one slice of vinyl. Satoshi Fumi remixing Ian O’Donovan to devastating Detroit-styled effect, Red D taking things deep with some dreamy deep house magic, Fabrice Lig going from ‘Border 2 Border’ on vinyl with Red D & Lady Linn and then Uit De Hoogte teaming up with Lefto for an oldskool house jam that will only be available on this release. If this doesn’t get your heat up…

The blissed family band is back! TENGGER have always moved together, through time, space & genre. 'SKY' arrives as a new chapter: a little more still, a little more inward, while keeping all the warmth that's always been at the heart of what they do. Embodying the band name meaning "endless sky" in Mongolian and "vast sea" in Hungarian, their 8th album 'SKY' centres on the feelings of boundless, infinite expansion. Conceived as one continuous environment rather than a collection of tracks, the album unfolds slowly through luminous synths, patient drones and Itta's breath-like vocals. Like a soft big sky you can actually float on: 'SKY' is vast, warm, and wide open. "Rather than a specific emotion, we hope the record opens a certain awareness — that the sky is not just something to be seen. Through it, we sense a connection to something much larger — a feeling of being linked to the wider universe. This sense of connection runs through the entire record."

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.

On Cooked, Oren Ambarchi folds his all‑star studio jam aesthetic into something gloriously unhinged. Two side‑long epics twist piano ripples, synthetic “voices,” mutant trumpet tones, electric Miles haze and digital pyrotechnics into a foot‑tapping, brain‑scrambling, joyously cuckoo ride that still feels meticulously shaped. Tip! Tip! Tip! Cooked extends Oren Ambarchi’s recent run of large‑scale studio constructions, but this time he lets his most irreverent impulses sit right at the center of the frame. Where 2022’s Shebang revealed how far his trance‑logic grooves could stretch, this new album comes “a la – yet so far from” that predecessor, nudging the template into stranger, more cartoonish territory without sacrificing the care that underpins his work. The record is built as two side‑long pieces, each a little ecosystem where a rotating cast of international collaborators makes the foot keep tapping even as the ear and brain struggle to process what’s just happened. Long‑time listeners will recognize the tension at play here. Beneath Ambarchi’s triple‑digit discography of hypnotic minimalism, there has always been a vein of joyously wayward exploration: riffs that arrive out of nowhere, synthetic mischief, sudden genre swerves. Cooked is a landmark because it allows that “gloriously cuckoo sensibility” to flood into one of his most high‑profile solo statements. Surrounding himself with players from Australia, Germany, Japan and Sweden – among them Joe Talia, Johan Berthling, Will Guthrie, Eiko Ishibashi, Jim O’Rourke, Michiko Ogawa, Marcus Pal, Fredrik Rasten, James Rushford, Andreas Werliin and Konrad Sprenger – Ambarchi layers, edits and recombines performances in a way that recalls Edgar Froese’s spiraling synth rock, Steve Hillage’s cosmic guitar flights, and the studio‑obsessed pop alchemy of Godley & Crème, yet never feels like pastiche. “Hidden Tableau,” the opening side, sets the tone. It begins disarmingly with Eiko Ishibashi’s gentle piano ripples, then immediately swerves with the entrance of a groaning synthetic “voice” – a ghost in the machine conjured and steered by Konrad Sprenger, also at the production helm here as he was on Shebang. For the first half of the piece, this moaning, morphing presence becomes an unlikely soloist, a concerto for artificial throat and delicate backdrop of piano, organ‑like washes and Ambarchi’s signature shimmering Leslie‑soaked guitar. As Joe Talia’s drums slip in with a beautifully flexible swing, harmonies puff into woozy clouds, and the synthetic voice stretches toward something like a mutant trumpet, blurring instrumental identities. Then comes the left turn: intricate guitar patterns and filigreed synthetic arpeggios overtake the scene, locking into a kind of motoric, nimble drive that feels both inevitable and inexplicable. Somewhere in this lattice might be Jim O’Rourke on synth – or it might be Ambarchi’s endlessly re‑routed guitar, as his recent work has taught us that almost any sound could be traced back to his instrument. The piece never quite settles, instead gliding through phases that feel like snapshots from different histories of experimental rock and electronic music, stitched together by an internal logic that’s more dreamlike than schematic. The second side, “Sleight of Hand,” foregrounds Ambarchi’s Swedish comrades, especially Johan Berthling on double bass and Andreas Werliin on drums. It opens with glistening layers of electric 12‑string guitar, immediately invoking electric Miles Davis touchstones – the weightless yet charged atmosphere of “Feio,” or the slow, suspended reimagining of David Crosby’s “Guinnevere.” Berthling’s sparse, punctuating bass lines become anchor points in an almost weightless field of detail, while Michiko Ogawa’s sho and James Rushford’s array of acoustic keyboards thread flickers of timbre and harmony through the haze. The music feels like hovering above a shifting landscape: nothing quite locks, yet everything relates. Midway through, the whole construct is abruptly overwhelmed by a knotty, hyper‑complex “solo” from Marcus Pal on digital synthesis – a blistering, pointillist eruption that seems to teleport the record into an alternate timeline where Allan Holdsworth traded his SynthAxe for Xenakis’s UPIC system. Rhythmic and harmonic shapes flash past too quickly to grasp, yet their density adds a new, vertiginous layer to Ambarchi’s world. As Will Guthrie’s drums and percussion build around it, the music reaches a peak of sizzling intensity, then veers sideways into a gently surreal coda: Zawinul‑esque chords glimmer, Fredrik Rasten’s guitar drifts over a sprightly rhythm box, and the uncanny, bird‑like whistling of Isak Hedtjärn floats above, turning the closing minutes into a sunlit, slightly absurd stew.

On Cooked, Oren Ambarchi folds his all‑star studio jam aesthetic into something gloriously unhinged. Two side‑long epics twist piano ripples, synthetic “voices,” mutant trumpet tones, electric Miles haze and digital pyrotechnics into a foot‑tapping, brain‑scrambling, joyously cuckoo ride that still feels meticulously shaped. Tip! Tip! Tip! Cooked extends Oren Ambarchi’s recent run of large‑scale studio constructions, but this time he lets his most irreverent impulses sit right at the center of the frame. Where 2022’s Shebang revealed how far his trance‑logic grooves could stretch, this new album comes “a la – yet so far from” that predecessor, nudging the template into stranger, more cartoonish territory without sacrificing the care that underpins his work. The record is built as two side‑long pieces, each a little ecosystem where a rotating cast of international collaborators makes the foot keep tapping even as the ear and brain struggle to process what’s just happened. Long‑time listeners will recognize the tension at play here. Beneath Ambarchi’s triple‑digit discography of hypnotic minimalism, there has always been a vein of joyously wayward exploration: riffs that arrive out of nowhere, synthetic mischief, sudden genre swerves. Cooked is a landmark because it allows that “gloriously cuckoo sensibility” to flood into one of his most high‑profile solo statements. Surrounding himself with players from Australia, Germany, Japan and Sweden – among them Joe Talia, Johan Berthling, Will Guthrie, Eiko Ishibashi, Jim O’Rourke, Michiko Ogawa, Marcus Pal, Fredrik Rasten, James Rushford, Andreas Werliin and Konrad Sprenger – Ambarchi layers, edits and recombines performances in a way that recalls Edgar Froese’s spiraling synth rock, Steve Hillage’s cosmic guitar flights, and the studio‑obsessed pop alchemy of Godley & Crème, yet never feels like pastiche. “Hidden Tableau,” the opening side, sets the tone. It begins disarmingly with Eiko Ishibashi’s gentle piano ripples, then immediately swerves with the entrance of a groaning synthetic “voice” – a ghost in the machine conjured and steered by Konrad Sprenger, also at the production helm here as he was on Shebang. For the first half of the piece, this moaning, morphing presence becomes an unlikely soloist, a concerto for artificial throat and delicate backdrop of piano, organ‑like washes and Ambarchi’s signature shimmering Leslie‑soaked guitar. As Joe Talia’s drums slip in with a beautifully flexible swing, harmonies puff into woozy clouds, and the synthetic voice stretches toward something like a mutant trumpet, blurring instrumental identities. Then comes the left turn: intricate guitar patterns and filigreed synthetic arpeggios overtake the scene, locking into a kind of motoric, nimble drive that feels both inevitable and inexplicable. Somewhere in this lattice might be Jim O’Rourke on synth – or it might be Ambarchi’s endlessly re‑routed guitar, as his recent work has taught us that almost any sound could be traced back to his instrument. The piece never quite settles, instead gliding through phases that feel like snapshots from different histories of experimental rock and electronic music, stitched together by an internal logic that’s more dreamlike than schematic. The second side, “Sleight of Hand,” foregrounds Ambarchi’s Swedish comrades, especially Johan Berthling on double bass and Andreas Werliin on drums. It opens with glistening layers of electric 12‑string guitar, immediately invoking electric Miles Davis touchstones – the weightless yet charged atmosphere of “Feio,” or the slow, suspended reimagining of David Crosby’s “Guinnevere.” Berthling’s sparse, punctuating bass lines become anchor points in an almost weightless field of detail, while Michiko Ogawa’s sho and James Rushford’s array of acoustic keyboards thread flickers of timbre and harmony through the haze. The music feels like hovering above a shifting landscape: nothing quite locks, yet everything relates. Midway through, the whole construct is abruptly overwhelmed by a knotty, hyper‑complex “solo” from Marcus Pal on digital synthesis – a blistering, pointillist eruption that seems to teleport the record into an alternate timeline where Allan Holdsworth traded his SynthAxe for Xenakis’s UPIC system. Rhythmic and harmonic shapes flash past too quickly to grasp, yet their density adds a new, vertiginous layer to Ambarchi’s world. As Will Guthrie’s drums and percussion build around it, the music reaches a peak of sizzling intensity, then veers sideways into a gently surreal coda: Zawinul‑esque chords glimmer, Fredrik Rasten’s guitar drifts over a sprightly rhythm box, and the uncanny, bird‑like whistling of Isak Hedtjärn floats above, turning the closing minutes into a sunlit, slightly absurd stew.

In the wake of the acclaimed Inland See, the on-growing analog ecosystem being animated for ten albums now by Bitchin Bajas boasts new high energy views. “Isle Peaks” speaks of directions in beats of time, weather and the heart to wherever coast they found themselves when they got it all laid out. Sourced from Inland See sessions, these cuts were subjected to further edits and tweaks, with electroacoustic textures of sampled kalimba, field recordings, autoharp and EWI to activate and transport divergent quadrants of the Bajas cinematic universe. The first two songs were previously released digitally on Qobuz in Jan ’26. “Watch your Step” has been added to balance scales and acidity for the “Isle Peaks” vinyl (and cassette) edition. "Watch Your Step" is exclusive to the physical product, not available for download. “Isle Peaks,” throbs with the heat and humidity of an unknown landmass, ascending to signal-splitting heights on both atmospheric and ecstatic scales, the most wired ever but calm, then trancing ambiently in heavy modern electronic church thick with drone and atmosphere. High-energy music, first to dance, then to dream! The escaped & wild stepchild of Inland See is a half-hour highlight of the rest of your life to be: “Isle Peaks.”

Quickly following on from last year's 'Ghosted II', the third Reichian kraut-jazz session from Oren Ambarchi and his long-time collaborators loosens the screws a little, inviting in Americana, dream pop and blues influences and zeroing in on the tiny details.

Ambarchi, bassist Johan Berthling and percussionist Andreas Werliin are familiar with each other at this stage to fully let rip. 'Ghosted III' is their third recorded set in four years, and although they're still led by the jazz-taught instincts that guided their subtle, minimalist-inspired folk-jazz-rock debut, they've unclenched their muscles and let rip this time around. There's a new-found, liberating slackness to opener (and lead single) 'Yek', where Ambarchi daubs his chiming guitar notes over Werliin's jerky rhythms and Berthling's unraveled bassline. Catching the desert dust at first, it hardens into a Tangerine Dream-cum-Philip Glass nu-new age shimmer before it comes to a close. And 'Do' pulls back the bluster even further, reducing Weliin's drums to a faint patter, and filling the gaps with Ambarchi's cosmic pad-like guitars. After the 'TNT'-era Tortoise in dub Leslie-powered euphoria of 'Seh', the trio get back into the groove with 'Chahar', pulling Ambarchi's fictile notes into an orbit of ratcheting drums and repeating bass plucks that concludes with a splatter of xenharmonic guitar tones.

They venture into Americana territory on the long, plodding 'Panj', padding the low end with Ambarchi's swirling organ-esque tones that transform into concertina-ing zaps, and the best is saved for last - 'Shesh' is a dream-pop/post-rock melter that's among the best tracks Ambarchi, Berthling and Werliin have recorded, falling somewhere between Labradford and Talk Talk. Gorgeous.

In 1987, RAFAEL TORAL began making his own compositions and solo recordings. 30 years later, these recordings sound remarkably prescient and perfectly timeless—almost fresher today than when they were first released. Rafael has spent the time since then developing his conceptions, with continued explorations in the many records that have followed. On the 30th anniversary of his start, Drag City is reissuing Sound Mind Sound Body and Wave Field, his first two long out-of-print albums, on vinyl for the first time. Sound Mind Sound Body was partly inspired by exploring some of the working principles of Brian Eno and Robert Fripp, extrapolated by Rafael via a unique signal path leading out of his guitar. He paid notice to the massive impact of discreet gestures, creating slow-moving tones and spacious orchestral resonances, drifting and droning with glacial majesty, hardly recognizable as guitar much of the time. The first of these pieces were recorded in 1987, and in 1994, they were released on Portugal’s AnAnAnA, with material evolved in the years between, producing a remarkable equilibrium over an hour’s listening. Further evidence of the necessity for gradual development exists in subsequent reissues: for the 1998 Moikai reissue, “AE 1” was recorded, and for this edition, “AER 7 E” was rerecorded and the material for “AE 2” was recorded for the first time ever—all from original processes as noted, and none of which will cause the listener to notice a change in the otherworldly atmosphere.

In 1987, RAFAEL TORAL began making his own compositions and solo recordings. 30 years later, these recordings sound remarkably prescient and perfectly timeless—almost fresher today than when they were first released. Rafael has spent the time since then developing his conceptions, with continued explorations in the many records that have followed. On the 30th anniversary of his start, Drag City is reissuing Sound Mind Sound Body and Wave Field, his first two long out-of-print albums, on vinyl for the first time. Sound Mind Sound Body was partly inspired by exploring some of the working principles of Brian Eno and Robert Fripp, extrapolated by Rafael via a unique signal path leading out of his guitar. He paid notice to the massive impact of discreet gestures, creating slow-moving tones and spacious orchestral resonances, drifting and droning with glacial majesty, hardly recognizable as guitar much of the time. The first of these pieces were recorded in 1987, and in 1994, they were released on Portugal’s AnAnAnA, with material evolved in the years between, producing a remarkable equilibrium over an hour’s listening. Further evidence of the necessity for gradual development exists in subsequent reissues: for the 1998 Moikai reissue, “AE 1” was recorded, and for this edition, “AER 7 E” was rerecorded and the material for “AE 2” was recorded for the first time ever—all from original processes as noted, and none of which will cause the listener to notice a change in the otherworldly atmosphere.

A sequel to last year's sublime 'Spectral Evolution', 'Traveling Light' is a suite of weightless, uncannily beautiful jazz standards, transformed into orchestral drones and electronic chirps by Toral and his virtual band. It's flawless material that draws a clear line from Billie Holiday through Clara Rockmore, Fripp & Eno and Alvin Lucier to MBV and Gastr del Sol and beyond. Unmissable gear, from one of the scene's unassailable legends. Culture never emerges from a vacuum. It accumulates and evolves, building on what occurred before and gleaning influence from what happened nearby; the more cultural threads converge, the more complex, nuanced and developed the resulting braids become. Toral acknowledged this fact quite brazenly on last year's 'Spectral Evolution', bringing over a decade of impenetrable off-world experimentation to a halt and shoving his bare hands into the creative soil that inspired iconic tomes like 1995's 'Loveless'-inspired masterpiece 'Wave Field' and the meditative Éliane Radigue-cum-Rhys Chatham 'Violence of Discovery And Calm of Acceptance'. Taking a dip in the pool of concepts that eddy underneath rock music's labyrinth of caverns, he referenced Duke Ellington and George Gershwin, turning vintage progressions into idiosyncratic contemporary gestures. And on 'Traveling Light' that basic theme is expanded again; here, Toral takes six recognizable early 20th century standards and applies a very similar treatment, augmenting them with additional "canonical jazz sounds" from clarinetist José Bruno Parrinha, tenor saxophonist Rodrigo Amado, flügelhorn player Yaw Tembe and flautist Clara Saleiro. Playing guitar and bass with his self-built ensemble of electronic devices (that includes a modified theremin), Toral lets his influences float even closer to the surface here, picking out familiar jazz and exotica flourishes, early electronic echoes and organ-esque polyphonic sustained tones that stretch across hundreds of years of musical history. On opener 'Easy Living', a Ralph Rainger composition from 1937 that's been recorded by Billie Holiday, Bill Evans and Rahsaan Roland Kirk, among others, the original chord sequence is slackened by Toral's sustained guitar tones and sine waves, but not blurred completely into impressions. This time around we're treated to more tangible shapes: Toral's cheeky, expertly rendered riffs, horizontal exotica-inspired rhythmelodic chimes, intimate woodwind breaths that pull us back to the '30s and squealing pitches that can't help but remind us of Clara Rockmore's Robert Moog-produced milestone 'The Art of the Theremin'. It feels like being chucked in the American cultural petri dish while new organisms mutate around you - everything's recognisable somehow but novel, peculiar. Lovingly valve saturated strums, bent by Toral's whammy, introduce 'Body and Soul' (a 1930 standard that's best known for being recorded by Frank Sinatra) before they're met by alien chirps from his arsenal of generators. But it's the willowy harmonies that buoy this one, echoing the haunted choral drones that prop up centuries of European sacred music. Toral's very specific with his references; when Amado's tenor moans whisper around the dense polyphonic hums, there's a tacit acknowledgement of the enduring influence of African American spirituals and gospel on folk, blues, jazz, country, rock 'n roll and R&B. The album's most affecting segment comes at the conclusion though, with 'My Funny Valentine' and 'God Bless the Child', easily two of the most conspicuous compositions of the era. On both, Toral hovers between clarity and abstraction, overlaying bone-dry fingerpicked improvisations on the former that scrape over Chicago's musical timeline, from "hot jazz" to post-rock, and finishing the album with Fennesz-like distortions that crack and dissolve into Saleiro's levitational flute tones. It's astonishing stuff, honestly - maybe not as immediately startling as 'Spectral Evolution', but refined, polished and concentrated in every way. You're unlikely to find a more moving set this year, that's for sure.

After a two-decade interlude, Jim O’Rourke’s Moikai returns with Spectral Evolution, a major new work by Rafael Toral. Making his name in the mid-1990s with influential guitar drone platters like "Sound Mind Sound Body" and "Wave Field" (both reissued by Drag City in recent years), Toral has never been one to rest on his laurels repeating his past glories. In the early years of the 21st century, Toral laid the guitar aside, along with the focus on extended tones that had defined much of his music until that point. He began his ‘Space Program’, a thirteen-year investigation of the performance possibilities of an ever-expanding set of custom electronic instruments, played with a fluid phrasing and rhythmic flexibility inspired by jazz. Dedicated to honing his skills on these idiosyncratic instruments, Toral has performed with them extensively both solo and in many collaborations, including in his Space Quartet, where his mini-amplifier feedback integrates seamlessly into the frontline of a classic post-free jazz quartet rounded out with saxophone, double bass, and drums. Since 2017, Toral’s work has been entering a new phase, often still centred around the arsenal of self-built instruments developed in the Space Program, but with a renewed interest in the long tones and almost static textures of his earlier work; he has also, after more than a decade, returned to the electric guitar. Spectral Evolution is undoubtedly Toral’s most sophisticated work to date, bringing together seemingly incompatible threads from his entire career into a powerful new synthesis, both wildly experimental and emotionally affecting. The record begins with a brief ‘Intro’ that sets the stage for the unique sound world explored throughout the remainder of its duration: over sparkling clean guitar figures, Toral stages a duet between two streams of modulated feedback, seeming less electronic than like mutant takes on a muted trumpet and an ocarina. This segues seamlessly into the stunning ‘Changes’, where a dense array of Space instruments solo with wild abandon over a thick carpet of slowly moving chords, growing increasingly chaotic over the course of eight minutes yet always fastened to the lush harmonic foundation. On these and many other moments on the record, Toral manages the almost miraculous feat of having his self-built electronic instruments (which in the past he had seen as ‘inadequate to play any music based on the Western system’) play in tune. In an unexpected sidestep away from any of his previous work, the chord changes that underpin many of the episodes on Spectral Evolution are derived from classic jazz harmony, including takes on the archetypal Gershwin ‘Rhythm changes’ and Ellington-Strayhorn’s ‘Take the “A” Train’, albeit slowed to such an extent that each chord becomes a kind of environment in its own right. Threading together twelve distinct episodes into a flowing whole, "Spectral Evolution" alternates moments of airy instrumental interplay with dense sonic mass, breaking up the pieces based on chord changes with ambient ‘Spaces’. At points reduced to almost a whisper, at other moments Toral’s electronics wail, squelch, and squeak like David Tudor’s live-electronic rainforest. Similarly, his use of the guitar encompasses an enormous dynamic and textural range, from chiming chords to expansive drones, from crystal clarity to fuzzy grit: on the beautiful ‘Your Goodbye’, his filtered, distorted soloing recalls Loren Connors in its emotive depth and wandering melodic sensibility. The product of three years of experimentation and recording, and synthesizing the insights of more than thirty years of musical research, "Spectral Evolution" is the quintessential album of guitar music from Rafael Toral.

Eiko Ishibashi & Jim O'Rourke's fifth collaboration remixes live material from their 2023 European tour. Pareidolia weaves improvised performances from France, Switzerland, Italy & Ireland into a dynamic sound collage, blending computer-generated textures with flute & harmonica. A meditation on perception & randomness.

For this collaborative release, Eiko Ishibashi & Jim O'Rourke edited and remixed material captured at shows they played during a lovely two week tour through France, Switzerland, Italy and Ireland in April 2023. Pareidolia shapes an ideal collage from the best resonances and relationships from those nights. A dynamic medley of colour and shape to pulse through earbuds, speaker cones and the air around you, appealing to your suggestibility, wherever you find it - "the tendency to perceive a specific, often meaningful image in a random or ambiguous visual pattern; to see shapes or make pictures out of randomness."

Eiko Ishibashi and Jim O'Rourke toured Europe for two weeks in 2023, a wonderful passage through France, Switzerland, Italy and Ireland. Pareidolia, the duo's fifth collaborative release, is a remix made up of resonances from those shows. The movement of sound in each performance and the relationships of sound between them; a dynamic medley of colour and shape to pulse through earbuds, speaker cones and the air immediately surrounding you. Improvisation is the preferred collaborative mode for Eiko and Jim. They both prepare separately, without discussing anything beforehand. The dialogue in the moment determines the performance; anything that takes place is a possible point of departure, allowing for a unique experience each time they play. These 2023 shows marked the first time Jim and Eiko had played together outside Japan. Perhaps the flow of parts unpacked from their respective computers was inspired by the experiences of the tour: the nature of the assembled audience, the quality of the meal on the day at hand. Additionally, Eiko played flute and they both played a bit of harmonica intermittently throughout the performances. These live acoustic signals were routed back to the hard drives, to provide further material to play with — and as they travelled, recordings of the previous nights' shows were among the materials for the next performance. With all this to play with, there was much fun to be had every night. Pareidolia's final mix is one further rearrangement of the elements — comping — say, a bit of Jim from Paris against Eiko in Dublin for a minute, before bringing them both back into the same room for a spell before another set of interactions comes into play. The choices and edits represented here make yet another unique dialogue, as well as a kind of 'best' version of what they were doing on the tour.

For us at home, the sense of inevitability in the parts as they flow together might suggest structure; happily, this occurs without Eiko and Jim really committing to anything of the sort. Their available sound sources could present as a hot-wired noise onslaught, with all faders up full. Endless possible interpretations to be had on either side of the experience! This is one of several ways that the LP title and sequence of song titles come into play. Listeners hearing something more should have a good look in the mirror and perhaps consider the old saying: "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you."

Upgrade & Afterlife stands as a pivotal and singular recording in the catalog of Gastr del Sol, the duo of David Grubbs and Jim O’Rourke. Originally released in 1996, this album is frequently cited as a landmark of post-rock and experimental music, praised for its blend of avant-garde abstraction, folk minimalism, and a restless, exploratory spirit. The album opens with “Our Exquisite Replica of ‘Eternity’,” a piece that has become emblematic for many listeners: a slow-building, cinematic soundscape that combines mangled drones, brassy orchestral samples (from Hans J. Salter’s The Incredible Shrinking Man soundtrack), and electronic textures to create a sense of alien strangeness and emotional depth. The track’s title, inspired by a sign on a Japanese perfume vending machine, hints at the band’s playful conceptual approach.

Throughout Upgrade & Afterlife, Gastr del Sol continually subverts expectations: “Rebecca Sylvester” begins as a sparse guitar ballad before dissolving into ambient abstraction, while “Hello Spiral” and “The Relay” explore fractured electronics, shifting grooves, and prismatic vocal layers. The closing track, a cover of John Fahey’s “Dry Bones in the Valley (I Saw the Light Come Shining ‘Round and ‘Round),” features a guest appearance by Tony Conrad on violin, bridging American folk traditions with the avant-garde and providing a fittingly monumental conclusion.

Critics have described the album as “stark and minimalist at times, jazzy and far-ranging at others,” with a unique ability to make “background music that quietly asserts itself into the foreground”. Pitchfork noted its way of letting “folk and avant-garde abstract each other into something warm, minimal, and slanted”. The album’s cover, Wasserstiefel (Water Boots) by Roman Signer, further underscores its enigmatic and conceptual nature.

Upgrade & Afterlife remains a touchstone for listeners seeking music that is as immediate as it is strange, as spiky as it is immersive-a record that continues to reveal new layers with every listen, and a high point in the collaboration between Grubbs and O’Rourke

「Shima DUB」is the first CD album released by Harikuyamaku in 2013. Harikuyamaku dubs Okinawa'n roots songs sampled mainly from 60~70s vinyls. Dubeffects were reorded through the analogue mixer and some old effectors (space echo,roland halfracks...) in live. This is super addictive Okinawa'n DUB album will make you awarer.

“The idea of the black avant-garde exists, as it were, oxymoronically – as if black, on the one hand, and avant-garde, on the other hand, each depends for its coherence on the exclusion of the other. Now this is probably an overstatement of the case. Yet it’s all but justified by a vast interdisciplinary text representative not only of a problematically positivist conclusion that the avant-garde has been exclusively Euro-American, but of a deeper, perhaps unconscious, formulation of the avant-garde as necessarily not black. Part of what I’m after now is this: an assertion that the avant-garde is a black thing.”- Fred Moten

When we go searching for a Black avant-garde, we have to be prepared to look in unexpected places. The route to a Black avant-garde involves walking down – what some might consider – peculiar highways. Where they see strangeness, a road leading them nowhere, we see nothing but beauty. The paths Darren Cunningham went down, the highways he took to make Actress, are a chapter in the story of the Black avant-garde. Cunningham the footballer. Cunningham the Wulfrunian. Cunningham the ex-footballer. Cunningham the DJ. Cunningham the Londoner. Cunningham the producer. Cunningham the painter. Cunningham the writer. Cunningham the composer. This is where the Black avant-garde in Britain is made. This is where you have to go to find it.

Across an expansive discography of more than ten LPs, Actress has created his own arcane language of hermetic references and inter-dimensional electronic composition.

Radical Frame arrives 18 years since debut album Hazyville, and it feels like an apotheosis. The image realised. We get the full gamut of Actress signatures. Short bursts of broken down music. Tiny sketches of zoomed-in sound. Refracted dance floor heat. And we get more. We get appearances from CASISDEAD on ‘Live By You’ (another image, another mask) and Rainy Miller (another artist from the provinces, Preston).

Today, we get ‘Overchord’ - the centre of the album paired with its precursor ‘Live By You’. It arrives alongside a video by Anna van der Velde, featuring Cunningham trapped in a luxury prison of his own making, contained but not constrained.

Perhaps Radical Frame is a container for everything that Cunningham has built so far. A frame he is handing over to the next in line. The next artist to make their own way in the Black British avant-garde.