MUSIC

Keith Freund’s music occupies a space where careful musicianship and homebrewed experimentation meet and shake hands. On “Window Left Open,” spacious melodies drift through dense fields of electronic activity: saxophone lines rise above buzzing circuitry, percussion flickers at the edges of the frame, and clustered glitch textures dart through the music like insects in tall summer grass. Every sound feels vividly animated, a charged part of the same mercurial ecosystem. Freund’s talent lies in balancing warmth and unpredictability with remarkable ease. Patient motifs recall the exploratory spirit of early folktronica, while bit-reduced textures, degraded loops, and idiosyncratic synthesis techniques continually reshape the terrain beneath them. Rather than treating acoustic and electronic elements as opposing forces, Freund allows them to intermingle until distinctions dissolve, creating compositions that reward close listening while retaining immediate warmth. This record finds Freund working with a fully formed vocabulary that is truly his own, transforming glitch, melody, improvisation, and atmosphere into songs that are both fundamentally curious and disarmingly engaging.

Brighton artist and producer Stephen Maskell - moonlighting as Violet Cowboy - returns with an epic sixth release on Kit Records. 𝑹𝒂𝒎𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒎 finds the sonic sculptor in playful mood, thumbing the flipbook through mulchy blues guitar, gothic storytelling, elasticated dub and gossamerlike classical minimalism. Maskell's flow state seems to exist in the pocket where genres meld, and no sound is safe or sacred. His archive slops like a bargain bin of British culture, topped up on gleeful trawls through the map's ripest folds and furrows. This new collection is part glitched spaghetti western, part macabre travelogue, and - true to form - wholly too slippery to define. Violet Cowboy is a techno flâneur: an unmoored observer and connoisseur of urban mythology, roving like a cyber dandy between the frames of a reekingly complex cityscape. "Tonight I'm in a window watching everyone watching being watched, and the faces that pass and the stories I make up for them." In 𝑾𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒎's frightening closing scenes, Maskell yanks Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Man of the Crowd' across pungent cobbles and through a tangle of glassy computer processes. For all its interludes, tangents and jump scares, 𝑹𝒂𝒎𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 is the sound of an artist losing himself in the art of making - and somehow helping us make sense of the world we find ourselves in as he does it. Recommended if you like Moondog, Ry Cooder, Autechre, Arvo Pärt.

Fresh from an appearance on Space Afrika’s 'Honest Labour’ album, collaborations with Klein and Lol K and a placement in the Dazed 100 list, LA Timpa finally offers his head-turning 'Equal Amounts Afraid' album on vinyl following a short CD run just before the pandemic hit in early 2020. Served up on promising yung London label O___o, and made with additional mixing from Solange collaborator Kwes and mastering from sometime Dean Blunt engineer Amir Shoat, ‘Equal Amounts Afraid’ is a beautiful smudge of pop experimentation riddled with timeless musical soul. Following from his 2016 debut ‘Animal’, and guest production for Cold Specks’ trip hop sound, LA Timpa’s gently reserved and melancholic productions push an intimate pop vocabulary into spectral, dreamlike dimensions. Introspective and avant like Klein’s psyched chop-ups, as sensuous as Blood Orange, but with a taste for expressively harmonised pop refrains that clearly recall Yves Tumor via Richard Youngs, the album unfolds with its own logic, deploying eyelid-tugging levels of hypnagogic charm that practically demand to be heard in sequestered, lowlit situations. Seducing us to his singular temporality and hazy atmosphere with the vaporous falsetto and ambient soundfield of sirens and groggy bass in ‘Around’, a cut-up interlude leads into fragmented music box melody and intimate plainsong on ‘Fertile’, while ‘Core’ almost echoes the 4AD dream-pop of A.R. Kane, and ‘Give’ beautifully dematerialises indie-pop into ambient gauze. ‘Backyard Exotic’ surfaces his strangest side in a maze of mushied songcraft, ushering a trippier 2nd half where the songs really start to fray between ‘Caretaker’, the smokers’ hymnal vignette ‘Towel Under The Door’, before channelling Thom Yorke in the melting Mbira melody of ‘Rattle Snake’, and spooling out into proper ambient soul with the spine-tracing lines of ‘Tried Ice’ and the smudged magic of ‘Memory Phone’ where he truly divines a strength in his vulnerability in a way that should resonate with the most sensitive souls.

Twenty years ago, Jan Jelinek’s debut album Personal Rock was released by Source Records. Under the pseudonym Gramm, it brings together eight tracks that have not been available on vinyl since their original release. Faitiche is very glad to announce the re-release of the album: Personal Rock will appear as a double LP featuring the original cover artwork. What people wrote about Personal Rock two decades ago: “Situated somewhere between Jelinek’s much loved Loop-Finding Jazz Records, Farben, Move D’s Conjoint project and Atom Heart’s most immersive work for Rather Interesting, it’s a late night album full of subtle production tricks and melodic House structures that belong to the pre-millennial IDM heyday, but which transcend its overly-masculine templates.” (Boomkat) “Though many producers have pushed forward the clicks-and-cuts style of experimental ambience developed by German experimentalists Oval (among others), few have been able to match their knack for making abstract cuts into pieces of undeniable beauty. Jan Jelinek’s first LP as Gramm is one of the precious few, and it’s obvious from the opener.” (AllMusic) “Organized in organic structures and minimal movements, the tracks get into utopian states and super-desirable moods, offering superior contentedness and dependable taste of the kind seldom sustained for a whole album. (...) Subway-Escalator-Soul.” (Spex)

Ulla’s 28912 label returns with a gorgeous bouquet of lowercase wonders that'll cast a gentle spell over anyone on the line from Vincent Gallo to The Humble Bee, Sofie Birch to Tenniscoats.​ The fourth release on the label following Naemi's 'Breathless, Shorn' and Ulla's own 'Hometown Girl', and its ‘Other Girl’ companion piece, 'Puff' is a new album from Justin Cantrell aka J and the Woolen Stars, a core member of Naarm's underground scene as part of local supergroup Picnic, and the brains behind the excellent Daisart and se Dessaisir Publishing labels - we recommend you check in on both if you haven't already done so. ‘Puff’ is a glistening pool of lush refractions and music-box lullabies, featuring an array of acoustic instruments and fragile foley sounds that are gently peeled away until all we’re left with are the faded outlines of half-remembered songs. A sound that roots itself in the prophetic machinations of artists like Fennesz and the languid Japanese minimalism of Fourcolour or Moskitoo, 'Puff' strikes a delicate balance, sounding as bewitchingly informal as a Tenniscoats set, but also consistently muddling the perception of high and low-brow sound. Cantrell's skill lies in a sort of sonic conjuration, bamboozling the brains of those of us who grew up listening to stepped-on audio via ramshackle RealMedia streams by alchemising the content, turning found sound into gold. Just tell us you don't get chills from hearing the bitrate-impaired acoustic guitar on 'Dirty like an angel', set against a backdrop of windy, harmonic detritus. It's both meticulously contrived and gloriously off-the-cuff, like one of Vincent Gallo's classic 'When'-era demos reduced down to 96kbps. Similarly, 'She knows just what to say' provokes faint memories of folk music, with impromptu fiddle parts gently steamrolled to create a sound that’s nothing short of exquisite, like pressed flowers rediscovered in an old, discarded book. Even the more palpably electronic elements are hand sculpted in a way that belies the era we're living in - it's music for a digital age that sounds oddly unplugged, flawed and human. An unmistakably lovely antidote to the opiating nostalgia of our time.

The story of each re-release begins with the original. In the late 90s, Uwe Zahn (Arovane), along with Robert Henke (Monolake) and Stefan Betke (Pole), began releasing music on Torsten Pröfrock’s (Dynamo) newly launched DIN label. This was a very inconspicuous undertaking, but fans of the flourishing IDM, glitch, and constantly evolving abstract techno genres quickly picked up on the quality of sound coming out of Germany. After a few successful EPs, Zahn began working on his debut full-length, Atol Scrap. The release was a success, at least in the underground circles, where followers of the melodic harmonies, stuttering off-beat rhythms, and, most importantly, advanced sound design feverishly consumed the imprint’s output. There was only one thing missing – the album was never pressed on vinyl, and for decades remained in the digital domain. The fans, of course, inquired. There were multiple offers on the table, but Zahn retained control until he was assured that it was properly attained. “I thought of taking everything into my own hands and releasing the record myself,” says Zahn, “but at the end of last year, Matthias from Keplar asked me to re-release Atol Scrap on vinyl.” The label and its owner revolve in the Morr Music universe, and so it made sense for Zahn to trust the platform to treat the record right.

Listening to Atol Scrap over twenty years later it is inane not to admit how well it has held up. Where other genres clearly aged, becoming stale, bland, and dull, the music on eleven tasty tracks still keeps the neurons tickled with each note. More than an echo of the past, the bottled sound truly has matured. Many of the newly evolving techniques are recognizable on the album. “I created the digital artifacts with a digital multi-track recorder, the Fostex D80,” recalls Zahn. “The thing had a scrub wheel with which I could achieve wonderful glitch effects by winding through the audio data. I have sampled and further processed these artifacts.” And this approach is still embedded in Zahn’s sound design. “I still use my 24-track analog desk from Tascam to mix my audio. I love to use hardware synths and samplers. I’ve definitely built upon my studio experience in the 90s.” From this debut to the most recent output, Arovane’s sound has evolved to become more intricate, detailed, and pronounced. “My music has become much quieter and much slower. But that’s probably also due to the noise in the world.” And just as Atol Scrap reminds Zahn of the past, retaining charm preserved in a container traveling through time, it also jitters memories of long ago, when we were twenty years younger, less experienced, and bold. For me, among the many records of the time, this album held a special place in life, my heart, and many CD boxes moved across the world. And now I’m only happy to restock the vinyl space, where Atol Scrap belongs among the beloved records. Welcome home. - Mike Lazarev

2026 repress; clear with red color vinyl. "Standards, the fourth full-length recording from Chicago's Tortoise, boldly announces their return following 1998's TNT. Tortoise spent the bulk of 1998 and a portion of 1999 touring the world. Following tours of the U.S., Europe, South America, Japan, Brazil, and Australia, Tortoise members worked on other projects that occupied them until the spring of 2000 when they began to record Standards. In 1999 members of the band toured the US as the backing band for legendary Brazilian composer/singer Tom Zé's. Musically, Standards is their most concise statement of purpose thus far. The tunes are direct and immediate, yet they maintain the exploratory edge that has always characterized the group's output. The fusion of instrumental sounds (electric, acoustic, and synthesized) is subtle and subversive. Similarly, the group's fluency within the studio environment gives the finished work a quality that alternates between artifice and reality. Whilst TNT was constructed in the studio using segments recorded, improvised or altered electronically, the 'Standards' sessions began after a period of rehearsal and composition. The contrast, simply stated, is that the studio was used extensively as a compositional tool for TNT, whereas with Standards it was used predominantly as tool to realize and enhance the existing new compositions. The studio does not impose itself on the recording to the same degree listeners witnessed on TNT, and the resulting record is in many ways reminiscent of their unadorned self-titled debut. Sounds, notes and rhythms are manipulated but in general, processing is spare. Tortoise's highly lyrical melodies, rich and varied tonal palette and high level of musicianship were recorded in a studio designed by McEntire. The resulting record is the clearest demonstration of the band's many skills and strengths."

Following his critically acclaimed collections Electronic Music from the Seventies and Eighties and Electronic Music from the Eighties and Nineties, Carl Stone pairs Baroo (March 2019) with a double-LP album of recent works, including the final section of "Fujiken", his epic journey through southeast Asian field recordings and street cassette culture. On all six tracks, composed between 2013 and 2019, Stone’s pan-global playground of looping synths and Asian pop culture remains as fertile as ever, digitally shattered into unimagined patterns and gestures, either through the MAX programming language or (in the case of "Kikanbou") by generating live loops within an Elektron Octatrack sampler.The title track is the first recorded release from Stone’s ongoing collaboration with the Japanese vocalist Akaihirume. Elsewhere new influences come from rock (the slow drum break of "Bia Bia"), disco (the Nile Rodgers-esque guitar riff "Kikanbou") and hip hop (the frenetic percussion loop of "Han Yan"). Their diversity only adds to Stone’s borderless musical vision, a world where rhythm becomes atmosphere, song becomes beat, and pop becomes art.

Connecters Vol. 1: Original Recordings, 1992–1999 marks the first public release by Larrison, the recording alias of Midwestern visual artist and musician Larrison Seidle. Composing, programming, and recording entirely on a Casio CZ-5000 during the halcyon days of early '90s homespun exploration and experimentation, Larrison inhabited a dreamworld of his invention, soundtracked by space age pop vignettes speckling with hypnotic, ebullient layered synthesizer melodies. Unfolding across 26 tracks, all newly restored and mastered from the original sources, Connecters Vol. 1 reinvents itself, song by song, transcending time and defying the fated obscurity of this brilliant, discreet music made three decades ago.

Mala Fama is a Kichwa sound artist from Ibarra, Ecuador. His work is a testament to inhabiting—and creating—multiple worlds at once, while being rooted in Indigenous pride and power. Jichushka is a Kichwa word translating to “Lonely/Abandoned,” marking grief as a pathway to liberation. The 11-track album features the cultural specificities of northern Ecuador's Indigenous communities while also traversing boundless electronic experimentation, and was mastered by Nicola Cruz. Lead single "Mortaja II" is a retextured adaptation of Kichwa funeral music, accompanied by a music video (release date October 21st) that reflects the track’s sacred circularity through movement and land-based ritual. The video was shot in Ibarra, Ecuador by directors Rony Albuja and Hilda Males. Mala Fama wrote and recorded the album between 2016-2022, through ongoing home studio sessions that facilitated close collaboration with a network of artists of musical lineages from the Andean region such as marimba, vallenato, and cumbia– including Afro-Ecuadorian group Duo Anjoa, vocalist Catalina Ortiz hailing from coastal Esmeraldas, Ibarra-based multi-instrumentalist Luis Lema, and Quixosis, a leader of Quito’s underground vanguard. The majority of Jichushka was composed throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, reflecting a complete revision of a previously-written album to mirror unexpected shifts, and new beginnings. The album is world-making through peaceful, ambient compositions as much as heavy sequencing, inviting melancholic remembrances of times and spaces that no longer exist, but that make way for creation.

Roping in Pierre Bastien and Mark Cunningham to provide brass, Mike Cooper turns in his most kaleidoscopic fourth world dream sequence to date, drawing on dub and exotica to harmonise with Andrew Pekler's marooned soundscapes... Cooper admits in the liner notes that although he's often compared with Jon Hassell, it's German painter Mati Klarwein fantastical album covers that always reminded him exactly why he was doing what he was doing. Because Cooper makes music for imaginary places, not tangible soundtracks but half dreamed, half lived experiences that course through his catalog of experiments. And his process has never been quite so vivid as it is on 'Stochastic Parrot', a suite of vertiginous reverberations that are struck through with Cooper's "real and virtual" lap steel twangs, collaged together from samples and field recordings that wobble like heat haze. Different pockets of rhythm bash into each other on 'ARCHAEOPTERYX', accompanied by Bastien and Cunningham's spiraling brass improvisations. And Cooper holds the sounds together with his lulling repeated phrases; the hand drums might sound as if they're in conflict with the cycling drum machine crashes, but that's the point - it's not like channeling a dream so much as it's like being subjected to three or four dreams simultaneously. It's the ghosts of jazz fusion being raked over coals at midnight: just tune into 'SUMATRA SAMPHIRE', with its distant animalistic wails and popcorn drums, or the granulized 'HAT YAI', that sounds like the prelude to a druggy ritual.

Enigmatic label/collective life is beautiful fully establishes its lore on a colossal 3LP sprawl: 39 tracks of whimsical outsider biz arcing from lo-fi strums to asymmetric pop, jazz improv, poetry, noise, abstract hip-hop, spoken word and whatever else captures the thing, from artists you'll know and a fair few you won’t, featuring Bianca Scout, aloisius, VOICE ACTOR, James Massiah, Kenichi Iwasa, THE NARRATOR, Isaiah Hull, Pretty V and many, many more. A self-styled gesamtkunstwerk, life is beautiful was established by aloisius in 2022 as a radio show, before turning into a collective, a series of live performances, and then inevitably a record label a year later. Their first comp makes some attempt to pull all their various strands into something cohesive, but like many of the best collectives - Mica Levi’s Curl crew for example - so much of the beauty and joy comes from following the breadcrumb trail deep into wherever they take you. This is a label, after all, that dumped their demos and experiments ("resources and inspiration") on a file exchange portal on their own site, so you get the idea that nothing is quite fixed, and there are no easy answers - just the pleasure of tagging along for the ride. The set opens with tracks from each of the founders, who establish the label's core sound. NWAKKE begins with 'i need you in a positive way', a cloudy hypnagogic R&B marvel that juxtaposes cool-headed vocal runs with tape-fucked field recordings and piano. Then, the mic's handed to Amber Joy, aka THE NARRATOR, who also serves as the label's artistic director; on 'SUDDENLY', she oozes a skittish post-everything collage that chops cheap synths and choral vocals into a dreamy modern hymn. aloisus' 'you are god' runs out of its stuck groove as if it emerges from the very same thought, blurring gospel moans across LinnDrum loops. Bianca Scout hands us a taster of her collaborative work with London's Cajm on the hypnotic 'Welcome to Hello', while poet Isaiah Hull teams up with y+Your for the wonked 'vampire money'. Basically there's a whole record of music from the crew before 'veneration...' even begins in earnest, and it only gets better from here, running through aesthetic experiments from multi-instrumentalist Kenichi Iwasa, self-styled "beat wizard" psychedelic ensemble. (who's one half of Brum's Everything is Psychedelic with Tony Bontana) and Thom Dehli before we reach the compilation's crown jewel, a 21-minute live jam from okk70 ensemble. We can't tell you exactly who's playing, but it's worth the price of entry alone, a squirming slo-mo jazz side that gets to the roots of the life is beautiful sound - like some cross between ’87 era Prince and Oren Ambarchi’s Ghosted Trio, except deep in the basement. Elsewhere, there's a chewably eccentric solo moment from Bianca Scout ('superscribe 24'), a phenomenally moody collaboration between VOICE ACTOR and aloisius ('24'), a spirited, lo-fi transmission from London's josiane pozi and a deeper than deep jam from orchestra379, aloisius' "collective improvisation project" that's featured artists like Ben Vince, Kenichi Iwasa and abi asisa. Label comps are often a slog but this one's stuffed to the gills with genuinely creative experimentation from some of the scene's most interesting outsiders, the sprawl really does come close to harnessing the vibe.

Ampoule's Pub returns with a fresh remaster of the classic 'Summer' and a brand new track titled 'The Fragile Root'

'Summer' was originally released 20 years ago on the Vertical Form label - a result of a multitude of completely live and improvised studio sessions, that gently swell and evolve over the tracks 16 minutes.

'Fragile Root' is a brand new track, think vintage idm - intricate rhythms and melodies crossed with massive dub chords.

Mastered by Dubplates & Mastering

Hazy Eyes Maybe is the debut album by Grimm Grimm, the musical project of singer‑songwriter and composer Koichi Yamanoha, who works between Tokyo and London and has been active since around 2014. He has performed at alternative music festivals around the world, including Le Guess Who? and All Tomorrow’s Parties, and has also expanded his activities into film and video‑game fields through collaborations with game creator Hideo Kojima, contributing music and making a cameo appearance in Death Stranding 2.

Grimm Grimm’s quiet, folk‑rooted songwriting and his experimental sound treatments come together in their most refined form on the 2020 album Ginormous

"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

On revelations of divine love, jason calhoun’s fifth release for Dear Life Records, Calhoun has assembled an especially potent album of work that whirrs, hums, and glows. Unlike his recent output centered around extended, hypnotic compositions, the fourteen tracks here immediately request your attention and curiosity. Their concision only underscores one of his greatest strengths: the ability to capture an evaporating, fleeting moment, and hold it close. The title is a nod to British Anchoress Julian of Norwich, whose collected writing of the same title is the earliest of any woman written in English. Here it serves as a unifying theme for Calhoun's particular palette of restless textures and tentative melodies. This is personal music, to be sure, but it also feels tactile, almost taffy-like in its presentation—and with such a potent combination, it is hard to resist a smile while listening. Like when the insistent pulse grounding 'last one' suddenly changes color as yawning tones reveal themselves, or how 'eye dilation' tiptoes into the room with each note sounding like a carefully chosen step. Though never precious or fussy, the album remains resolutely intimate. Calhoun puts it plainly: “Julian of Norwich says “‘All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well’. These days, I’ve been having my doubts that this is true. As no solution to the issue at hand, I look for the revelations of divine love in my life, and I find them--in my partner asleep on the floor in our studio, my survival of a social interaction with a stranger, being bad at chess. Don't ask me what they mean-I'm still figuring that out myself. Maybe we can figure it out together.” It is from this place of doubt, searching, and openness that the album finds its footing. When asked about the origin of the album's cover art, Calhoun explained, "I see this spot all the time on my commute home from work". A true statement of how the mundane and meaningful are interwoven, from someone who celebrates that union better than most. Unlike Julian of Norwich, Calhoun is no hermetic mystic himself-but in his daily life he works at an oncology center, doing routine but necessary work to provide treatment for those in need of it. While he might resist any analogizing, it is sincerely easy to say that Calhoun's body of work, which is only fortified by revelations of divine love, also offers care and company.

On revelations of divine love, jason calhoun’s fifth release for Dear Life Records, Calhoun has assembled an especially potent album of work that whirrs, hums, and glows. Unlike his recent output centered around extended, hypnotic compositions, the fourteen tracks here immediately request your attention and curiosity. Their concision only underscores one of his greatest strengths: the ability to capture an evaporating, fleeting moment, and hold it close. The title is a nod to British Anchoress Julian of Norwich, whose collected writing of the same title is the earliest of any woman written in English. Here it serves as a unifying theme for Calhoun's particular palette of restless textures and tentative melodies. This is personal music, to be sure, but it also feels tactile, almost taffy-like in its presentation—and with such a potent combination, it is hard to resist a smile while listening. Like when the insistent pulse grounding 'last one' suddenly changes color as yawning tones reveal themselves, or how 'eye dilation' tiptoes into the room with each note sounding like a carefully chosen step. Though never precious or fussy, the album remains resolutely intimate. Calhoun puts it plainly: “Julian of Norwich says “‘All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well’. These days, I’ve been having my doubts that this is true. As no solution to the issue at hand, I look for the revelations of divine love in my life, and I find them--in my partner asleep on the floor in our studio, my survival of a social interaction with a stranger, being bad at chess. Don't ask me what they mean-I'm still figuring that out myself. Maybe we can figure it out together.” It is from this place of doubt, searching, and openness that the album finds its footing. When asked about the origin of the album's cover art, Calhoun explained, "I see this spot all the time on my commute home from work". A true statement of how the mundane and meaningful are interwoven, from someone who celebrates that union better than most. Unlike Julian of Norwich, Calhoun is no hermetic mystic himself-but in his daily life he works at an oncology center, doing routine but necessary work to provide treatment for those in need of it. While he might resist any analogizing, it is sincerely easy to say that Calhoun's body of work, which is only fortified by revelations of divine love, also offers care and company.

My Bloody Valentine’s Kevin Shields–run Pickpocket Records released this early, signature 7-inch from Grimm Grimm.

A masterpiece that defined OPN's reputation, where digital sound and serene beauty coexist!

“Baby It Cold Outside” is a new album by Lavurn. The music is a lovesick nod to the turn of the millenium and the ones who helped show us the way.

Twenty years ago, somewhere in Scotland, an album emerged that felt like a missing link between The Black Dog, Chain Reaction and Irdial. It was released by the enigmatic Glasgow producer Pub on his equally mysterious label, Ampoule.

The album, Do You Ever Regret Pantomime? (2000), has since become the stuff of local folklore — a key work in the UK’s rich IDM and ambient lineage, and one of the most celebrated records of the early noughties. Bizarrely, it even made its way into the Billboard Top 100.

Do You Ever Regret Pantomime? also stands as a defining statement from a producer who has chosen to remain in their own space — one where everyone is welcome. Records like this are about losing yourself in sound and creating your own universe to explore.

Across its 70 minutes, you’re drawn into a deep matrix of spacious chords, abstract textures and gently shifting rhythms.

The 2020 reissue has been remastered and cut at Berlin’s Dubplates & Mastering, pressed as a 2x12”, and features new artwork alongside a bonus track.