MUSIC

Belia Winnewisser and Fatuma Osman have known each other since childhood, a friendship rooted in shared afternoons of music and late 90s/early 00s girl core. Their first joint debut EP Vertex, released through the Swiss label Light of Other Days, emerges as both a continuation of that bond and an exploration of process, weaving together collective memories with their present-day musical language. Resisting polished closure, the record circles around the idea of limerence in sound: suggesting rather than declaring, outlining atmospheres that leave room for the listener’s imagination to fill out the blanks. Across its five tracks Belia and Fatuma oscillate between the personal and the universal, immediacy and nostalgia. The opening track Emerald rises like morning light; fragile, blissful, and quietly radiant. Covering Madonna’s 80s single Angel feels natural and slots seamlessly into the EP’s arc: as a defining pop presence of the last four decades, she embodies less an idol than a subtle compass. Surrender, the first track on the B-side, draws you into the club, vibrating between vulnerability and release. Each step extends their vision further, revealing a cohesive body of work. Vertex holds opposite poles in tension, creating a space where vulnerability and intensity create dialog. What lingers is a realm of possibilities: a conversation between two friends and collaborators who understand that sound can be as much about what is left out as about what is expressed. Vertex documents their progression, marking a milestone without concluding it.

s i n c e h i s f i r s t e p t i p s o n l u c i a n o s l a b e l c a d e n z a i n 2 0 0 7 p r o d u c e r a n d d j p e t r e i n s p i r e s c u e m e r g e d i n t o o n e o f t h e k e y f i g u r e s o f t h e r o m a n i a n e l e c t r o n i c m u s i c s c e n e . s o f a r h e r e l e a s e d m u s i c o n l a b e l s s u c h a s v i n y l c l u b , l i c k m y d e c k o r a m p h i a . t o g e t h e r w i t h h i s b u d d i e s r h a d o o a n d r a r e s h h e a l s o l a u n c h e d i n 2 0 0 7 3t h e l a b e l [ a : r p i a : r ] - † a p l a t f o r m w h e r e h e , h i s t w o f r i e n d s a n d m a n y p r o d u c e r s f r o m r o m a n i a a n d a b r o a d r e l e a s e d d e t a i l e d g r o o v i n g h o u s e a n d t e c h n o , t h a t s t a n d s o u t w i t h d e l i c a t e s t r u c t u r e s a n d o n e - o f - a - k i n d g r o o v e s . b o t h o f h i s m o r e d a n c e f l o o r o r i e n t e d s o l o a l b u m s " i n t r - o s e a r a o r g a n i c a . . ." a n d " g ra d i n a o n i r i ca" f o r [ a : r p i a : r ] a r e e n l a r g e d w i t h m e l o d i e s , s o u n d s a n d h a r m o n i e s t h a t g o b e y o n d t h e u s u a l c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s o f a d a n c e a l b u m . f u r t h e r m o r e h i s l o v e f o r c l a s s i c m u s i c i a n s l i k e m i l y a l e x e j e w i t s c h b a l a k i r e v , a l e x a n d e r p o r f i r y e v i c h b o r o d i n o r o r n i c o l a i a n d r e j e w i t s c h r i m s k y - k o r s a k o w c a n b e f e l t i n t h e a l b u m " pa d u r e a d e a u r ( o p u s 2 i n r e m a j o r )" a n d t w o m o r e e p s t h a t h e r e l e a s e d u n d e r t h e a l i a s e n s e m b l e o n t h e r o m a n i a n l a b e l y o j i k c o n c o n i n o r d e r t o u n i t e c l a s s i c a l s p h e r e s w i t h a n a l o g u e e l e c t r o n i c m u s i c p r o d u c t i o n . i n f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 3 h e a l s o r e l e a s e d h i s h i g h l y a c c l a i m e d f a b r i c m i x c d t h a t o n l y f e a t u r e s d a n c e f l o o r l e a n i n g m u s i c p r o d u c e d b y h i m s e l f . w i t h "t a l k i n g w a t e r s" h e p u b l i s h e d i n l a t e 2 0 1 4 h i s f i r s t 1 2 i n c h o n m u l e m u s i q t h a t i s n o w f o l l o w e d b y t h e f u l l - l e n g t h a l b u m " v i n p l o i l e" w h i c h h e p r o d u c e d w i t h o u t t h e i n t e n t i o n t o e n t e r t a i n w i t h e a s y t o h o o k u p r h y t h m s , m e l o d i e s a n d h a r m o n i e s . e v e n t o u g h h e e s t a b l i s h e d h i m s e l f a s a i n t e r n a t i o n a l l y p l a y i n g h o u s e d j t h a t r e g u l a r l y p e r f o r m s a t a l l m a j o r c l u b s , f e s t i v a l s a n d o t h e r p a r t y d e s t i n a t i o n s a r o u n d t h e g l o b e : a s a m u s i c i a n p e t r e i n s p i r e s c u a l w a y s t r i e s t o e n t e r n e w t e r r i t o r i e s t o e x p l o r e w i t h a h e a r t f e l t h u m a n t o u c h t h e i n f i n i t e s p a c e o f s o u n d . f o r h i s l a t e s t a l b u m t h e m a n t h a t o r i g i n a l l y c o m e s f r o m t h e e a s t e r n r o m a n i a n t o w n b ra i l a s t e p p e d a w a y f r o m h i s f o r m e r e x p e r i m e n t s o f m e l t i n g c l a s s i c a l s p h e r e s w i t h e l e c t r o n i c m u s i c . i n s t e a d t h e 3 6 - y e a r s o l d m a n f r o m b u c h a r e s t o n l y u s e d s o m e p i a n o , s t r i n g a n d w i n d i n s t r u m e n t e l e m e n t s a n d a n a l o g u e e l e c t r o n i c s t o a r r a n g e a g r a c e f u l l y d e e p o c e a n o f s o u n d . a l l s l o w g r o o v i n g t r a c k s s p r e a d t h e a t m o s p h e r e o f l i v e i m p r o v i s e d s e s s i o n s t h a t a r e e d i t e d , t w e a k e d a n d m i x e d t o p e r f e c t i o n . i n - t h e - m o m e n t m o o d s o f s t r a n g e a n d u n u s u a l a n a l o g u e s y n t h s o u n d s g r o o v e i n a f l u i d q u a l i t y w i t h s u b l i m i n a l b a s s s h a p e s , l a t i n a t e p e r c u s s i o n s , j a z z r h y t h m s a n d a c o u s t i c m e l o d i e s . t o g e t h e r t h e y c r e a t e a g a s e o u s k i n e t i c a t m o s p h e r e f u l l o f t a n g i b l e r h y t h m p a t t e r n s , d e l i c a t e c h o r d s a n d g h o s t l y m o d u l a r s y n t h p a d s a l l m i x e d s u b t l e t o c r e a t e s p a c e f o r t h e t o n e s b e t w e e n t h e t o n e s . y o u c a n c a l l i t a h y p n o t i c a f t e r h o u r a l b u m f o r a f t e r h o u r s t h a t a r e d e d i c a t e d t o a d e e p l i s t e n i n g e x p e r i e n c e . y o u c a n t a g h i s a r r a n g e m e n t s a s b r i l l i a n t l y t e x t u r e d a n d m u s i c a l l y s u p e r - c h a r g e d a m b i e n t , w h i c h g o e s b e y o n d t h e u s u a l d e f i n i t i o n o f t h e g e n r e . a l l n i n e s u s p e n s e f u l c o m p o s i t i o n s s e d u c e w i t h a d e e p m e l o d i c s e n s i b i l i t y , h a r m o n i c a d v e n t u r e s a n d a n o v e r a l l r h y t h m i c a m b i a n c e o f f r e s h n e s s a n d l a i d b a c k e n t h u s i a s m . t o g e t h e r t h e y r e p r e s e n t a c h a l l e n g i n g a u d i t o r y e x p e r i e n c e t h a t w i l l r e s o n a t e i n y o u r m i n d l o n g a f t e r t h e m u s i c h a s f i n i s h e d.

Irrflug are:

Mark Kanak - Concept, sound design, electronics, noise, lyrics

Ian King - Voice

BoBo - Voice

Ella Sturmvogel - Voice

Also featuring:

Blixa Bargeld Voice on “Pulse” and “She lights the earth with her silver”

recorded March 2025 for the “Lügendetektor” sessions

at AndereBaustelle Tonstudio in Berlin by Boris Wilsdorf

Text on “Spirals” taken from WB Yeats “In Memory of Eva Gore-Booth and Con Markievicz”

Text on “She lights the earth with her silver”, Ovid (translation Mark Kanak)

Recorded at Die Höhle, Berlin-Niederschöneweide 2024-2025

Mastered by Ilari Larjasto

Cut by Stefan Mitterer at Manmade Mastering Berlin

Front sleeve painting by Arsi Keva

Painting disobeyed by Tanja Koljonen

Graphic design by Tommi Grönlund

Sähkö Recordings 2025

PUU-61

"Nuno Canavarro's Plux Quba hails from three decades in the past, yet the simple profile of its abstract/ambient/cutup collage makes it a record that sits quite comfortably in our IDM-informed future. In 1988, Plux Quba was a primal dark horse in the world of pants-forward electronic music -- an obscurity issued with little explanation from the laid-back west coast of Europe: Portugal, of all places! -- though the casual listener could hardly know that from an examination of the LP jacket. The vanguard of electronics in late-80s Europe was being pushed by organizations like Nurse With Wound, The Hafler Trio, HNAS -- and yet, when Christoph Heemann came across this recording, it struck his ears and the ears of fellow listeners like nothing before. Plux Quba was handed around between the principles of the early '90s A-Musik scene: Jan St. Werner, C-Schulz, Frank Dommert, Georg Odijk, plus interested fellow travelers like Jim O'Rourke, to the intense curiosity of all. To ears that were already saturated with all things kraut, the dark corners of prog and the frontline of experimental and improvised music, it proved elusive. Not simply in how it sounded and how that sound was achieved, but in where it was coming from -- like later Robert Ashley at times; certain stretches of melody recalled some of Eno's ambient pieces -- but mostly, it was a completely alien soundscape! And who was it? Was the band called Plux Quba? The record? The label? These sorts of mysteries are at the heart of records that require close listening and re-listening. As it was absorbed, it grew to be an influence on the Köln sound -- Mouse On Mars, Lithops, and Heemann's many and varied projects -- as well as O'Rourke, Fennesz and many others. Music and sound of this nature have for many years been made available by bands like Autechre, labels like Mille Plateaux -- but for the first ten years of its existence, Plux Quba was rarely heard. O'Rourke reissued it as the first record on his Moikai label in 1998, and it had a good run through around 2005 before the last of the print parts were filled. It's been almost a decade since Plux Quba was available, which is way too long considering that we live in an era where it is necessary to have an LP of this on hand for your contemporary listening distractions. And so, Drag City has stepped in to reissue the Moikai reissue of Nuno Canavarro's classic Plux Quba."

Very different from Biosphere's last AD 93 offering, 'The Way of Time' is a freewheeling set of atmospheric vintage synth jams, dubby ambient techno experiments and decelerated electro workouts that's inspired by American poet and author Elizabeth Madox Roberts' 'The Time Of Man'. Essential listening for fans of 'Patashnik', then.

On 2021's 'Angel's Flight', Geir Jenssen focused his gaze on Beethoven's String Quartet No. 14, tweaking and stretching it to tease out its essence. He's on more familiar ground here, using Joan Lorring's voice, from a 1951 radio adaptation of 'The Time Of Man', to guide us through a spruced-up spread of his signature sounds. If you've kept up with his releases, then you'll know that the last few albums have been made with restored keyboards and drum machines - a marked shift from his period using samples and software.

'The Way Of Time' seems to follow the same path: opener 'Time Of Man' is barely more than a brassy analog lead and Lorring's smudgy voice, while the title theme (that repeats in various forms), with its acidic plucks and sequenced repetitions takes us back to Jenssen's milestone album 'Patashnik', when he set the bar for ambient techno. It's a welcome return to familiar sonics; unlike his last couple of synth-heavy albums, that sounded like fun diversions and jams, 'The Way Of Time' holds neatly together as a unit, well braided by its journeyman theme. Lorring's voice is the anchor, and Jenssen's able to refresh his most referenced material with contemporary processes and techniques.

Forthcoming 7" from Tokyo's TAMTAM.. Including a favorite of Kuro's, "花を一輪 - Hana Wo Ichirin" which was featured on Dublab Japan's -resilience- A Charity Compilation in Aid of the 2025 LA Wildfires. Also available at Dublab.jp digitally. Flip for the Magic Hour DUB version.

The songs on Touch, the first new Tortoise music in nine years, are dramas without words. They’re elaborately appointed and carefully mixed to enhance a familiar feeling — a distinctly cinematic uneasiness. Close your eyes and you might see cars swerving around unlit rural roads, or cityscapes at night with bells clanging in the distance, or some abandoned warehouse where spies chase each other between towering stacks of boxes.

The making of Touch is an entirely different kind of film — a heartwarming story of musicians adapting to life circumstances.

Tortoise operates as a collective; the five multi-instrumentalists make records by committee, seeking input on creative decisions large and small. All ideas are considered, and for most of the band’s influential three-decade run, the process has been straightforward: Each musician brings in songs or sketches, and as the group absorbs them, the players exchange ideas about the structure, instrumentation, different grooves or (more frequently, because they’re Tortoise) odd metric divisions that might stretch the initial conception of the song.

These discussions have always happened in real time, face to face. Until Touch. As guitarist and keyboardist Jeff Parker explains, over the last decade, the members of Tortoise scattered geographically, making the pre-production rehearsal sessions if not impossible, at least more complicated.

“It’s the first record we’ve done where everything wasn’t based in Chicago,” says Parker. “Two of us are in Chicago. Two of us are here in Los Angeles and John [McEntire] is in Portland, OR. We recorded in several different places. But the strange thing is, in a way it’s kind of the most cohesive session that we’ve done.”

McEntire, who plays drums, percussion, and keyboards and serves as mixing engineer, had little doubt that the actual recording would be fine. His apprehension was about those more open-ended development sessions leading up to the recording, which, he says, have been known to yield moments of peak Tortoise inspiration. “We don't work remotely, unfortunately. We kind of all have to be in the room together. For me the trial-and-error stage is very important. I didn’t want to lose that.”

The percussionist and multi-instrumentalist John Herndon explains one reason why: The path to a “final” version of a Tortoise tune is not a straight line. “It becomes writing and arranging and editing and orchestrating and sort of getting things into a sonic space that feels good, all at the same time.”

There was consensus about that; each of the musicians has a story about songs being transformed by the collaborative dynamic. Percussionist and keyboardist Dan Bitney recalls a session when they were working on one of his tunes. He wasn’t happy with it and promised to come up with a countermelody. “Right away somebody just asked “Does it need a melody? Like, why does this need a melody? And I’m like, “Yeah!” That’s the kind of thinking that can open your eyes.”

In the initial planning for the new record, the band arrived at what seemed like a reasonable geographic compromise: They’d set up shop at studios in three different areas — Los Angeles, Portland, and Chicago. They scheduled sessions with sometimes months in between, so that everyone could sit with the material and refine it further. The plan: To shift some of the wild idea-chasing of those development sessions from group work to individual work, building on Tortoise’s deep and iconoclastic lexicon of sounds — and on the trust between musicians that’s accrued over decades of music-making.

“It’s like, humans adapt,” Herndon says flatly. In order to keep making music as a group, he explains, everyone needed to be flexible then and remain so now. “If you’re used to doing something one way, and then it flips, well, you have to adapt to another way of working. I think that that's what we all were aspiring to do with this, endeavoring to kick in our adaptation skills.”

Still, it wasn’t smooth sailing. “I’m going to be honest, I think that we had some doubts” after the first set of sessions, McEntire recalls. Noting that four years elapsed from the beginning of Touch to its completion, he adds that “it took a long, long time for the music to coalesce. There was some ‘what are we doing?’ questioning going on along the way.”

Douglas McCombs, who plays guitar, bass, and the deep-voiced bass VI guitar that adds a noir luster to “Night Gang” and other Touch songs, believes that questioning would have happened regardless of the geographical challenges. “In the best circumstance, there’s a flow when we’re working on a tune. Everyone’s sparking ideas and inspired. It’s not work.” He adds, “In the worst moments, when we just absolutely don’t know what to do with something, it’s torturous.”

Herdon points to the early versions of “Vexations,” which became the new album’s opening track, as one such slow-torture situation. “We were confounded as to figuring out an arrangement, and things were just stuck,” he recalls. During one of the long lulls between the studio sessions, Herndon says, he got an idea for the tune. “I asked John if I could have the stems [the individual track files] for the song, and then I kind of did a reworking in the garage. Re-did the drums completely and made a breakdown section in the middle. I sent it and was like, ‘I don't know if this is anything, but here.’ And those guys seemed really excited about it.”

Herndon quickly adds that every Tortoise record has benefitted from similar experimentation. In fact, it’s the key thing, a defining characteristic: “Sometimes doing an edit will leave a space open for something else, and we’re all into that idea of, ‘What happens next?’ It’s this attitude of ‘Let’s make some music together and see what happens.’ We're all comfortable with the not knowing, with letting an idea go through many permutations.”

Along with that is the knowledge that this open-ended exploring can be time-consuming. And might possibly end in futility. McCombs says that though the band’s approach changed with Touch, the players still needed the mindset they’d used in those brainstorming rehearsals. “When I get frustrated or when we seem like we're stalling out a little bit, I just have to remember that patience is one of the things that makes this band work.”

Asked to recall a moment that required patience, McCombs doesn’t hesitate. “It seems to happen a lot with the drummers,” McCombs says. “Somebody will be like, ‘Hey John [McEntire] why don’t you play this?’ And he’ll be like, ‘I don’t wanna play it cause I hear Herndon here.’ It’s like McEntire hears Herdon and Herndon hears Bitney… That happens a lot, and then they’ll come to a consensus. Sometimes half the song will be one drummer and half the song will be another drummer. That’s kind of the way it works.”

**

It must be said: When things click into place, Tortoise is a rare force. Whether cranking out a foursquare rock backbeat or chopping time into polyrhythmic shards that defy counting (and logic), the band challenges accepted notions of what rock music can be, what moods it can evoke — that’s part of the reason the band is revered so widely, among musicians working in many genres.

Tortoise’s indescribable sonic arrays have grown more intense — and more influential — over time. Early works — the 1993 debut and the 1996 Millions Now Living Will Never Die, which opens with a twenty-one-minute suite — contrast the thick harmonic schemes of Krautrock with the similarly impenetrable densities of musique concrete, adding jarring spears of electric guitar as spice accents. The commercial breakthroughs that followed, TNT (1998) and Standards (2001) found Tortoise further expanding its toolkit: Rather than orient each piece around declarative single-line melodies, the musicians let the vast, lush, inviting scenes become a hypnotic wordless narrative, built from overlapping layers and interlocking rhythms.

Each step in the discography underscores a truth about Tortoise: The questions about arrangement and orchestration are foundational, defining the scope of the canvas and the density of the band’s exactingly precise soundscapes. There can, as McCombs notes, be multiple drummers on a track, and their beats can be supported by acoustic percussion or random electronic blippage. Likewise, on any given track, there can be multiple mallet parts, sometimes sustaining gorgeous washes of color, at other times pounding out intricate Steve Reich-style interlocked grids of harmony. There can be multiple guitars, each with its own earthshaking effects profile. (Parker laughs when he says “I’m kind of like the straight man with the guitar sounds.”) There can be multiple synthesizers — darting squiggles of lead lines crashing into asymmetrical arpeggios, or bliss-toned drones hovering in the upper-middle register like a cloud in a landscape painting.

And there can be noise, all kinds of it: While the working method of Touch meant Tortoise sacrificed some spontaneous sparks, it encouraged the musicians to explore the thickening textural possibilities of different flavors of noise (white, pink, etc). The band recently issued a set of remixes for the single “Oganesson.” The more austere, stripped-down interpretations offer telling insights about the deployment of noise as well as the track-by-track assembly process, the ways Tortoise uses open space, textural layers, and dissonances to create drama.

McEntire believes those little devices are essential to the sound. “Because we don't have a singer, we have to have a different vocabulary for creating interest. So we use all the little things, like dynamics, texture, orchestration.”

Given the intricacy of the music, McEntire explains, every little sound starts as a decision in the recording studio, and then, subsequently, becomes a logistical decision for live performance — after all, the many parts have to be executed by the five players.

The songs on Touch, the first new Tortoise music in nine years, are dramas without words. They’re elaborately appointed and carefully mixed to enhance a familiar feeling — a distinctly cinematic uneasiness. Close your eyes and you might see cars swerving around unlit rural roads, or cityscapes at night with bells clanging in the distance, or some abandoned warehouse where spies chase each other between towering stacks of boxes.

The making of Touch is an entirely different kind of film — a heartwarming story of musicians adapting to life circumstances.

Tortoise operates as a collective; the five multi-instrumentalists make records by committee, seeking input on creative decisions large and small. All ideas are considered, and for most of the band’s influential three-decade run, the process has been straightforward: Each musician brings in songs or sketches, and as the group absorbs them, the players exchange ideas about the structure, instrumentation, different grooves or (more frequently, because they’re Tortoise) odd metric divisions that might stretch the initial conception of the song.

These discussions have always happened in real time, face to face. Until Touch. As guitarist and keyboardist Jeff Parker explains, over the last decade, the members of Tortoise scattered geographically, making the pre-production rehearsal sessions if not impossible, at least more complicated.

“It’s the first record we’ve done where everything wasn’t based in Chicago,” says Parker. “Two of us are in Chicago. Two of us are here in Los Angeles and John [McEntire] is in Portland, OR. We recorded in several different places. But the strange thing is, in a way it’s kind of the most cohesive session that we’ve done.”

McEntire, who plays drums, percussion, and keyboards and serves as mixing engineer, had little doubt that the actual recording would be fine. His apprehension was about those more open-ended development sessions leading up to the recording, which, he says, have been known to yield moments of peak Tortoise inspiration. “We don't work remotely, unfortunately. We kind of all have to be in the room together. For me the trial-and-error stage is very important. I didn’t want to lose that.”

The percussionist and multi-instrumentalist John Herndon explains one reason why: The path to a “final” version of a Tortoise tune is not a straight line. “It becomes writing and arranging and editing and orchestrating and sort of getting things into a sonic space that feels good, all at the same time.”

There was consensus about that; each of the musicians has a story about songs being transformed by the collaborative dynamic. Percussionist and keyboardist Dan Bitney recalls a session when they were working on one of his tunes. He wasn’t happy with it and promised to come up with a countermelody. “Right away somebody just asked “Does it need a melody? Like, why does this need a melody? And I’m like, “Yeah!” That’s the kind of thinking that can open your eyes.”

In the initial planning for the new record, the band arrived at what seemed like a reasonable geographic compromise: They’d set up shop at studios in three different areas — Los Angeles, Portland, and Chicago. They scheduled sessions with sometimes months in between, so that everyone could sit with the material and refine it further. The plan: To shift some of the wild idea-chasing of those development sessions from group work to individual work, building on Tortoise’s deep and iconoclastic lexicon of sounds — and on the trust between musicians that’s accrued over decades of music-making.

“It’s like, humans adapt,” Herndon says flatly. In order to keep making music as a group, he explains, everyone needed to be flexible then and remain so now. “If you’re used to doing something one way, and then it flips, well, you have to adapt to another way of working. I think that that's what we all were aspiring to do with this, endeavoring to kick in our adaptation skills.”

Still, it wasn’t smooth sailing. “I’m going to be honest, I think that we had some doubts” after the first set of sessions, McEntire recalls. Noting that four years elapsed from the beginning of Touch to its completion, he adds that “it took a long, long time for the music to coalesce. There was some ‘what are we doing?’ questioning going on along the way.”

Douglas McCombs, who plays guitar, bass, and the deep-voiced bass VI guitar that adds a noir luster to “Night Gang” and other Touch songs, believes that questioning would have happened regardless of the geographical challenges. “In the best circumstance, there’s a flow when we’re working on a tune. Everyone’s sparking ideas and inspired. It’s not work.” He adds, “In the worst moments, when we just absolutely don’t know what to do with something, it’s torturous.”

Herdon points to the early versions of “Vexations,” which became the new album’s opening track, as one such slow-torture situation. “We were confounded as to figuring out an arrangement, and things were just stuck,” he recalls. During one of the long lulls between the studio sessions, Herndon says, he got an idea for the tune. “I asked John if I could have the stems [the individual track files] for the song, and then I kind of did a reworking in the garage. Re-did the drums completely and made a breakdown section in the middle. I sent it and was like, ‘I don't know if this is anything, but here.’ And those guys seemed really excited about it.”

Herndon quickly adds that every Tortoise record has benefitted from similar experimentation. In fact, it’s the key thing, a defining characteristic: “Sometimes doing an edit will leave a space open for something else, and we’re all into that idea of, ‘What happens next?’ It’s this attitude of ‘Let’s make some music together and see what happens.’ We're all comfortable with the not knowing, with letting an idea go through many permutations.”

Along with that is the knowledge that this open-ended exploring can be time-consuming. And might possibly end in futility. McCombs says that though the band’s approach changed with Touch, the players still needed the mindset they’d used in those brainstorming rehearsals. “When I get frustrated or when we seem like we're stalling out a little bit, I just have to remember that patience is one of the things that makes this band work.”

Asked to recall a moment that required patience, McCombs doesn’t hesitate. “It seems to happen a lot with the drummers,” McCombs says. “Somebody will be like, ‘Hey John [McEntire] why don’t you play this?’ And he’ll be like, ‘I don’t wanna play it cause I hear Herndon here.’ It’s like McEntire hears Herdon and Herndon hears Bitney… That happens a lot, and then they’ll come to a consensus. Sometimes half the song will be one drummer and half the song will be another drummer. That’s kind of the way it works.”

**

It must be said: When things click into place, Tortoise is a rare force. Whether cranking out a foursquare rock backbeat or chopping time into polyrhythmic shards that defy counting (and logic), the band challenges accepted notions of what rock music can be, what moods it can evoke — that’s part of the reason the band is revered so widely, among musicians working in many genres.

Tortoise’s indescribable sonic arrays have grown more intense — and more influential — over time. Early works — the 1993 debut and the 1996 Millions Now Living Will Never Die, which opens with a twenty-one-minute suite — contrast the thick harmonic schemes of Krautrock with the similarly impenetrable densities of musique concrete, adding jarring spears of electric guitar as spice accents. The commercial breakthroughs that followed, TNT (1998) and Standards (2001) found Tortoise further expanding its toolkit: Rather than orient each piece around declarative single-line melodies, the musicians let the vast, lush, inviting scenes become a hypnotic wordless narrative, built from overlapping layers and interlocking rhythms.

Each step in the discography underscores a truth about Tortoise: The questions about arrangement and orchestration are foundational, defining the scope of the canvas and the density of the band’s exactingly precise soundscapes. There can, as McCombs notes, be multiple drummers on a track, and their beats can be supported by acoustic percussion or random electronic blippage. Likewise, on any given track, there can be multiple mallet parts, sometimes sustaining gorgeous washes of color, at other times pounding out intricate Steve Reich-style interlocked grids of harmony. There can be multiple guitars, each with its own earthshaking effects profile. (Parker laughs when he says “I’m kind of like the straight man with the guitar sounds.”) There can be multiple synthesizers — darting squiggles of lead lines crashing into asymmetrical arpeggios, or bliss-toned drones hovering in the upper-middle register like a cloud in a landscape painting.

And there can be noise, all kinds of it: While the working method of Touch meant Tortoise sacrificed some spontaneous sparks, it encouraged the musicians to explore the thickening textural possibilities of different flavors of noise (white, pink, etc). The band recently issued a set of remixes for the single “Oganesson.” The more austere, stripped-down interpretations offer telling insights about the deployment of noise as well as the track-by-track assembly process, the ways Tortoise uses open space, textural layers, and dissonances to create drama.

McEntire believes those little devices are essential to the sound. “Because we don't have a singer, we have to have a different vocabulary for creating interest. So we use all the little things, like dynamics, texture, orchestration.”

Given the intricacy of the music, McEntire explains, every little sound starts as a decision in the recording studio, and then, subsequently, becomes a logistical decision for live performance — after all, the many parts have to be executed by the five players.

Having defined a multi-dimensional sonic universe on their acclaimed eponymous debut album, composer/filmmaker Chris Hunt and Korn's James "Munky" Shaffer abandon the familiar and drift towards a kingdom of recursion on EXINFINITE, staring down a tangled mass of mirrored wormholes that hum with eldritch ambiguity. VENERA's sophomore full length is darker, heavier and more percussive than its predecessor, but there's something more intimate wired into its circuitry that's harder to define - something mystical, mysterious and melancholy. Songs materialize from the void only to be dissolved by acidic synths or pierced by Hunt's whetted beats, while Shaffer's dense, tortured riffs are offset by euphoric, time-dilated vocals from FKA twigs, Dis Fig and Chelsea Wolfe. Following their encounter with vastness, VENERA have peered inward, ruminating on the limits of existence and excavating their most deeply buried emotions.

VENERA emerged in 2022 when Hunt and Shaffer veered into their own musical territory after recording with Albanian artist Xhoana X. Improvising together and experimenting with cinematic, sci-fi-inspired sound design, the duo realized the collaboration had potential, so they began developing and evolving the sound further, bringing in assistance from former Mars Volta drummer Deantoni Parks, Queens of the Stone Age's Alain Johannes, post-punk duo VOWWS and LA noise rock legends HEALTH. And after their debut album appeared on Mike Patton's Ipecac imprint in 2023, VENERA kept deconstructing and rebuilding their approach to songwriting, swapping out ambient Eno-esque atmospheres for blown-

out beats and dense textures, and figuring out how to extend the narrative they'd opened up without retreading old ground.

On 'Tear', the duo's new direction can be heard clearly as Shaffer's primal guitar noises are reformed into eerie widescreen expositions that Hunt punctuates with pneumatic kick and snare cycles. Broken up by airlock hisses and luminous synths, the track proposes a backdrop that VENERA continuously transmute, reforging the concept as the album develops. Cult singer-songwriter Wolfe adds a gothic American flavor to the crepuscular 'All Midnights', crooning powerfully over VENERA's vacuum packed rhythms and gaseous synths, and Berlin-based noisemaker Dis Fig follows work with The Body and The Bug on 'End Uncovered' lending breathy, emotionally layered tones to Shaffer and Hunt's tape-damaged industrial pops and whirrs. They launch squelchy, decelerated techno into occult noise reflecting pools on the slithering 'Asteroxylon', and Hunt replies to Shaffer's reverberating plucks with foghorn groans on the ominous, pensive 'uuu773'.

'EXINFINITE' perpetually builds momentum until it hits 'Caroline', an intense collaboration with FKA twigs that isolates her most unearthly tones. Initially curling her words around ominous electrical distortions and mangled, ghostly voices, twigs launches into a charged operatic cry that Shaffer and Hunt meet with skittering cybernetic beats and dense walls of guitar noise. It's this track that fully cracks open VENERA's concept, merging the synthetic with the natural and prompting dysphoria, loss of self and infinite regress. So the blood-curdling noise and sinister ambiance of 'Decreation' acts like a dissociated coda. In the 'EXINFINITE', destruction and death are not overcome, they're intensified until they metamorphose completely.

New York based artist James K returns with Friend.

"Friend: The rupture is filled with sounds and a translation is made from blazing starlight to harmony and weather. Laid down in our silken dreams, the tripped out flows in the dubbed footpath, and with our hands wet, we root down. Her voice fades and gathers from this place, where we hold the water of our bodies against the speaker of time, and let the ripples give us pleasure and vision. Spin slowly around the open air room, dripping with the undertone of two hearts, to hear the warming of her sun come across our deep cold space.

She flies out from the vapor whirlpool feeling the celestial breakdown rise and slip, making room all around for singing out, signaling the days to come and go in peace. And still we find that heaven and earth don’t ever mean enough, even when they speak the same. It’s in these distilled moments we construct a reality, learning to listen quietly for the voices and call out in return. A kiss, a friend, a hand in hand, continuing until things disappear. In the metronome of the cat’s tail, erasing and mending, we find reasons for love and for life.

Riffs of glory and bitter-sweet chorals, trilling and resonant, source from the sub-zeit; it's a deeper sense of emotion that we travel through this space with. And with the blissful sequencing in reverse, we recognize the sonic vistas to come through us. It’s all smiling and sliding in the backwards, floating in the drift of cricket circuitry, when you say to me “is it real?” She leaves us where sounds flicker into taste and touch, where shadows sparkle into color, where star-kissed clouds come down like doorways."

We Do Recover, the new album from Powell and his first album proper on his own Diagonal Records, is a vitalising record of recovery and a statement of reassurance. The music is intensely emotional and lean, and forms a uniquely expressive story that opens up new ground in the artists's bizarre continuum of synthesised sound — this time triggered by experiences of grief and addiction.

The suicide of one of his life-long friends in 2024 was a life-changing loss which eternally altered Powell's life, and consequently his music. A period of recovery followed, one accompanied by the assembling of this album from hours of music made between 2018 and 2025. "After my friend's death I felt I went into a tailspin, but really, I was already in one," he says. "I found myself unable to handle anything – my way of coping was always to run away and escape. I realised it was going to kill me, so I made some changes. It made me see the music I had been making through a different lens, one that mirrored my experience of recovery. It's not linear, it's often difficult, but there is beauty there if you look hard enough. I wanted it to be a message of hope, if only for myself."

Powell has existed of late in an intensive mode of creation that utilises stochastic processes (probabilistic events) and a particular sonic palette. But where previous releases – such as the many prongs of his a ƒolder project, or the hyper-synthetic Piano Music 1—7 on Editions Mego – interrogated and developed formal processes for synthesised sound, on We Do Recover the processes are subsumed as tools for expression. What unfolds is an extended suite of minimal music that articulates and traces an intensive period of upheaval, pain, and hope; tight envelopes of sonic architecture are led astray; energies explode beyond bounds previously set. We can feel the collapse of control, and an overflowing sense of something starting anew. It is, in turn, surprising, baffling and beautiful.

The story begins with the radiance and glittering synthetic tones of 'All These Feelings'—like looking up into the vastness of the night sky. By track seven the wonder has become unsteady, with wayward keys, stochastic shapes, brittle fizz and hurried words emerging, unprompted, from the stillness. There is percussive brutalism in 'Relapse', and 'Afterlife' brings weight and solemnity in its funereal refrain. Four-to-the-'floor 'Newborn' turns the lights on as an equilibrium of sorts is sought and wrestled with, before 'So Rivers Plunge' sings like nobody's listening — a MIDI orchestra warming up in the box while the laptop remains asleep. Closing track 'The Bitter End' is no ending at all, instead promising a future in shimmering torques, caught on the wind of hope. It returns to us, with renewed awe, the starlight we began with.

WDR is the first full-length solo album Powell has ever released on his own label Diagonal – all other releases have been EPs, 12"s, or collaborations — and so it represents a landmark in his catalogue in more ways than one. "I nearly added a question mark to the album title," he says. "Recovery is a long process, and the album reflects that. There's a lot of short termism in the world right now, but recovery, in whatever guise, is the opposite of that… It takes time."

Akhira Sano is a Tokyo-based artist working across sound, drawing, installation, and video. His practice finds generative potential for music in life's fleeting incidents, etching meaning from unassuming spaces and resonances. With releases on 12k, LAAPS, IIKKI, and The Trilogy Tapes, Sano has steadily carved out a distinctive voice within minimal and experimental music - one that privileges attentiveness and patience over spectacle.

"To Material Past", Sano's debut for SWIMS, carries this thread with a 30-minute expedition built solely using glockenspiel tones and field recordings from his local neighbourhood. This is a night walk with no map or end point; Sano follows irregular, coiling fragments that extend to form a tessellating luminous whole - like a subliminal mass of tree roots quietly shifting the concrete slabs beneath our feet.

Under this faded gauze of gestures and interactions, Sano's glockenspiel interjects like a grandfather clock, softly marking the partitions that make up a day's collected experience; clicking and chiming like the sleeping brain, as it sifts and catalogues a lifetime's ephemera of thoughts, faces and puzzles.

Fennesz, who creates unique electronic sounds with guitars and computers, has released his first album in about five and a half years, "Mosaic." It is an unparalleled masterpiece with incredibly beautiful sound images constructed with incredible precision.

This is Fennesz's most introspective album to date. It was written and recorded at the end of 2023 and finished in summer 2024. Fennesz opened his third new studio space in the last four years. Without any immediate plans, this time he started from scratch with a strict working routine: wake up early in the morning, work until noon, take a break and work again until the evening. At first, just collect ideas, experiment and improvise. Then write, mix and revise. But the title was decided early on: Mosaic. It reflected an old-fashioned image-making technique, where elements were placed one by one to build a whole picture, before pixels could do it in an instant.

Mosaic, as its name suggests, is a delicate and intricate album, stitching together sonic fragments into something vast and immersive. Fennesz constructed the work layer by layer in a meticulous, almost meditative process, as if restoring forgotten memories or constructing a sonic monument.

Mosaic is a cinematic, deeply engaging and beautiful score with diverse influences and multiple possibilities to be explored by the listener.

With Mosaic, Fennesz proves once again that he's not just a musician, but an architect of sound, crafting a world for us to inhabit before dissolving, if only for a moment, into the ether. An album where science meets dreams, precision meets poetry, where sound itself becomes an ancient language that invites us to rediscover it. A real gem!

It Could Have Been A Beautiful by Aiko Takahashi In Wishlist view supported by Evangelos Evangelinos thumbnail joshua pearson thumbnail weichezaeune thumbnail 直之 関 thumbnail julien thumbnail Günther W. Albrecht thumbnail taphead thumbnail J. Di Fraya thumbnail Stephen Lee thumbnail hippiejohnny80 thumbnail wonung thumbnail J Glenn Taylor thumbnail Grumpy Bob thumbnail Mark Robinson thumbnail Jeffrey Capshew thumbnail sleight1217 thumbnail mahaprana thumbnail nate scheible thumbnail konejomusic thumbnail Stefan Nieuwenhuis thumbnail Scott Moore thumbnail nick0137 thumbnail Carly thumbnail Peter Duimelinks thumbnail Joe Rice thumbnail joalla thumbnail N.Shibata thumbnail 𓂀_The_Bandcamper_Whose_Name_Is_A_Symbol thumbnail Samuel McKahey thumbnail Paul King thumbnail kgkgkg thumbnail Burton Thomas thumbnail Mike Jedlicka thumbnail CaptainShwah thumbnail Dominik Böhmer thumbnail Katsuhiko Nojiri thumbnail Andy Maurer thumbnail telegrau thumbnail TheSlowMusicMovement thumbnail benoit richard thumbnail peppe trotta thumbnail Seb Chan thumbnail Headphone Commute thumbnail Sasha Frere-Jones thumbnail Juniperus Kaizuka thumbnail E-Lodie thumbnail Alex Ruder / Hush Hush Records thumbnail francis beaubois thumbnail toneshift thumbnail answer-beat thumbnail Tatti Persson thumbnail Joshua Minsoo Kim thumbnail Peter van Cooten thumbnail vouvounix thumbnail boates thumbnail wolfsdorf thumbnail luceman thumbnail Normando thumbnail spongewhale thumbnail Tim Newman thumbnail nzmn10293 thumbnail richmann thumbnail dan ichinose thumbnail scbl thumbnail t.amano thumbnail essentialyes thumbnail guillermoescudero thumbnail dbp thumbnail It Could Have Been A Beautiful Evening 00:00 / 06:31 Streaming + Download Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. €7 EUR or more Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album package image package image package image package image ---------------------------------------- • Glass Mastered CD • Selective UV varnish • Hand numbered / Limited edition to 200 copies, first and only edition (no re-press) ---------------------------------------- Includes unlimited streaming of It Could Have Been A Beautiful via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. ships out within 3 days edition of 200 €12 EUR or more Record/Vinyl + Digital Album package image package image package image package image ---------------------------------------- • Cutting lacquer • 12’’ yellow transparent vinyl • Selective UV varnish • Matt laminated outer sleeve on 300 gm paper, black inner with empty hole • Hand numbered / Limited edition to 300 copies, first and only edition (no re-press) ---------------------------------------- Includes unlimited streaming of It Could Have Been A Beautiful via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. ships out within 3 days edition of 300 €21 EUR or more Book/Magazine + Digital Album package image package image package image package image package image ---------------------------------------- • Hardcover book, 96 pages, 24 cm x 24 cm, 68 photos • Limited edition to 500 copies, first and only edition (no re-print) • Printed on Munken Print White 115g/m2 • Logo, slot and circle embossed • Selective UV varnish • Hand-numbered, hand-stamped ---------------------------------------- - DIGITAL DOWNLOAD INCLUDED ---------------------------------------- MORE PHOTOS/INFOS: www.iikki-books.com/iikki-022-it-could-have-been... more ships out within 3 days edition of 500 €48 EUR or more Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album package image package image package image package image package image ---------------------------------------- • Hardcover book, 96 pages, 24 cm x 24 cm, 68 photos • Limited edition to 500 copies, first and only edition (no re-print) • Printed on Munken Print White 115g/m2 • Logo, slot and circle embossed • Selective UV varnish • Hand-numbered, hand-stamped ---------------------------------------- • Glass Mastered CD • Selective UV varnish • Hand numbered / Limited edition to 200 copies, first and only edition... more ships out within 3 days edition of 200 €60 EUR or more Record/Vinyl + Digital Album package image package image package image package image package image ---------------------------------------- • Hardcover book, 96 pages, 24 cm x 24 cm, 68 photos • Limited edition to 500 copies, first and only edition (no re-print) • Printed on Munken Print White 115g/m2 • Logo, slot and circle embossed • Selective UV varnish • Hand-numbered, hand-stamped ---------------------------------------- • Cutting lacquer • 12’’ yellow transparent vinyl • Selective UV varnish • Matt laminated outer sleeve on 300 gm paper, black... more ships out within 3 days edition of 300 €69 EUR or more Full Digital Discography 22 releases Get all 22 IIKKI releases available on Bandcamp and save 60%. Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of It Could Have Been A Beautiful, Kurayami, Shadow's Praise, Our Recently Acquired Knowledge, Rustine, Queen Of Nowhere, In Vivo, Même Soleil, and 14 more. €61.60 EUR or more (60% OFF) 1. It Could Have Been A Beautiful Afternoon 16:30 2. It Could Have Been A Beautiful Evening 06:31 3. It Could Have Been A Beautiful Night 14:58 4. It Could Have Been A Beautiful Morning 19:46 about ___________________________________________________ • more INFOS/PHOTOS : www.iikki-books.com/iikki-022-it-could-have-been-a-beautiful • NOTE: track: "03 - It Could Have Been A Beautiful Night" is available only for the CD/Digital version. ___________________________________________________ "It Could Have Been A Beautiful" is the result of the dialogue between Aiko Takahashi (music) and the French photographer Edouard Elias initiated by IIKKI, between September 2022 and September 2023. the complete project works in two physical imprints: a book and a disc (vinyl/cd) it should be experienced in different ways : the book read alone the disc listened to alone the book and the disc read and listened to together.

Vel, recognized for her striking presence in the contemporary techno scene, initiates the Cuddle Protocol, her first ambient album and the third outing on her own label PURR. The nine-track record is a personal and intimate statement. With Cuddle Protocol, Vel explores the paradox of intimacy in a coded world. "I like the idea of a protocol for softness," she explains, "of codifying something that should be intimate and spontaneous." This tension runs through the album: fragile voices and soft layers unfold against serious, carefully structured arrangements, balancing tenderness with rigor. Ambient music has always been Vel's "first love." Before producing techno, she composed ambient exclusively, and this album marks a return to the form in its most sincere expression. "I know this music will follow me all my life. It's not a phase. It's how I express myself most truthfully." Cuddle Protocol is about slowing down, embracing sincerity, and reaching for deeper connection. "When I listen to ambient, I access another world. It's charged with emotion, it makes me drift and forget everything. That's the feeling I wanted to share." Mastering by Sixbitdeep. Artwork by Adone Giuntini.

First re-issue album from the Skintone Edition Volume 1 Box Set

Magic Thread is Susumu Yokota’s deeply soothing and delicate debut release on the Skintone label. With a spartan palette of sounds and textures, Yokota taps into a fundamentally human need to fuse and connect disparate fibres, magically forming work which glistens and pulsates with life.

Magic Thread originally came out in 1998 as a limited-edition CD release of 500 copies. Initially intended for the Japanese market, it came without any artwork in a standard transparent CD case adorned only by a sticker containing essential album information and a quote:

‘Somewhere in the process of evolution, the spinning and weaving of thread became possible for humankind. How did this come to pass? It can only be that the thread is possessed of magical properties.’ – Yokota, 1998.

Yokohama multi-instrumentalist Tokio Ono eases into the Accidental Meetings' family with an array of Japanese folk tinged avant-dubs, drenched in beautiful texture.

The elusive artist has spent much of his life in his hometown with a view of the Yokohama waters, before settling into a new environment in Tokyo where Peel gradually took shape. The essence of a given situation emerges as you peel it away, these tracks were inspired by the accumulation of days and flashbacks of memories: layers to peel joyfully from our lives, while offering a slightly shifted and refreshing perspective on one’s surroundings. It's a dreamy journey from open to close, Ono's world engulfs you in a blissful dubbed out wormhole. Featuring a flip from the sound system royalty of Seekers International to top it off, Peel is a unique and exquisite piece of work.

Two tracks of dub-infused electronica, edited from recordings of my live modular jam sessions (which you can watch on my YouTube channel).

You can buy the 7" here on Bandcamp, but please support your local record store where possible :) You can find a list of shops selling the record here: linktr.ee/yassokiiba

If you buy from a store and would also like the WAV files, just message me here and I'll send you a free download code.

The Oganesson Remixes EP follows the March 2025 release of the “Oganesson” digital single, which was the first new music released by Tortoise since 2016. The EP includes the original version of “Oganesson” alongside five new remixes of the track created by collaborators and friends of the band, including poet and activist Saul Williams, prolific mastering engineer Heba Kadry, Black Keys drummer Patrick Carney, indie music icons Broken Social Scene, and International Anthem labelmate Makaya McCraven. The Oganesson Remixes EP comes ahead of a new album by Tortoise, which will be released this fall via International Anthem and Nonesuch Records.

Mike Majkowski makes his debut on Hands in the Dark Records with Invisible, a selection of six moody and mysterious pieces produced between 2019 and 2025.

The prolific Australian double bassist and music maker has been involved in a diverse array of contemporary and experimental music since the early 2000s. This time, the Berlin-based artist is venturing deeper into downtempo, meditative and hypnotic minimal electronic realms.

While time and space are constraints, they also define our identities, creating inexplicable bonds with others flowing through shared moments and shared places. The state of being invisible obliterates these confines, allowing one to return to their pure essence. In this setting, Majkowski’s compositions display a discreet and profoundly emotional language characterised by vulnerability, darkness and confusion, while also embodying hope, soothing and resilience. A dim light, transcending love, space, memory and time.

With Michaela Melián's LP music for a while, a-Musik is releasing the first album by the visual artist, co-founder of F.S.K., and solo musician since Monaco, which appeared on Monika Enterprise in 2013. While her last releases, Electric Ladyland (2016), Music from a Frontier Town (2018), and Tania (2022) were created as part of exhibitions and sound installations, music for a while is Melián's fourth autonomous LP, characterized on the one hand by her unmistakable dreamlike sound along the interfaces between dark chamber music, solemn ambient techno, and cinematic sound art.

As with her previous albums, there is also a wonderful avant-pop cover version—this time of the track “My Other Voice” (1979) by the Sparks. On the other hand, music for while, whose cover is adorned with Melián's photographs of the clouds above her new home of Marseille, spreads a comparatively ominous mood – one that is nevertheless appropriate given the circumstances in 2025 – thanks in part to the sedate, almost ticking drum sounds of co-producer Felix Raethel. Once again, the multi-instrumentalist, supported by Ruth May on violin and Elen Harutyunyan on viola, weaves her recordings of various string instruments — cello, guitar, bass, and zither — into fascinating, lurching, looping, and almost hypnotic soundscapes, but atonal synthesizer sounds in tracks such as “traverse benjamin” and “märchenwald” open up the music to electroacoustic and experimental music. The concluding cover version of Irving Berlin's “they say it's wonderful” (1946) rounds off one of this year's most impressive releases in an incomparably groovy and melancholic way.

Reflecting years of listening from behind the drum kit arrives Low Air, the first solo LP from Jeremy Hyman.

Building on previous dance-floor-tuned outputs for Max D’s Future Times label, Low Air moves into a broader compositional arena: pared-down rhythms guide a wash of understated harmony, and compositions surface from a stream of purling noise. There were no standard operations across the music, but one key to the sound is the doubling and tripling of playback speed to fit musical passages into old sampling equipment. This process opened up a new line of inquiry into fidelity and pitch that can be heard throughout the LP.

Recorded just a few months ago, Pub's latest EP heads into deeper, darker territory, balancing the Glasgow-based veteran's hazed cosmic arpeggios with Gescom-like squelches and brassy, detuned analog pads.

Pub's been on a tear recently; since reissuing his classic catalog (including the perennial fave 'Summer' and the underrate 'Do You Regret Pantomime?'), he's been surprisingly active, releasing his first album of new tunes in over a decade, 'Process the Wise', just last year. 'Mamor' continues the thought, apparently foreshadowing not just a series of shows ("in obscure locations" no less) but more brand new material. It's not a big departure, but that's for the best. 'Rain For Rest' is a 'Summer' style balearic slow burner at first, with tempered arpeggios trapped behind a reclining, slowed-down 4/4, but give it time and it blots into a sci-fi nightmare, introducing 'Chiastic Slide' airlock percussion and gloopy, acid-washed Skam synths.

'Mi Cielo' works like a crack of sunlight then, matching Pub's jaunty melodic sequences with major key pads, echoes and balmy chimes, and on the lengthy closer 'Groundhed', his cheeky synth melodies are washed into a vortex and pitched into melted Philip Glass-esque orchestral bliss.

Bendik Giske’s 2023 album with Beatrice Dillon returns in a striking remix collection featuring Carmen Villain, aya, Hieroglyphic Being, Hanne Lippard, Wacław Zimpel and Dillon herself. Each artist reshapes Giske’s saxophone-led recordings into distinctive new forms, highlighting the versatility of his sound. Carmen Villain turns ‘Slipping’ into a rolling dub-concrète groove, while aya twists the same track into hypnotic, polyrhythmic flux. Zimpel adds microtonal synth flares for a psychedelic lift, and Hieroglyphic Being pushes ‘Start’ into raw, neon-lit club terrain. Lippard’s dry spoken-word cadence entwines with Giske’s circling sax on ‘Not Yet’, before Dillon closes with a spectral rework of ‘Rise and Fall’.