MUSIC

A new title in the series of full-album reissues that Vampisoul is releasing (co-produced in collaboration with Little Butterfly Records) as a valuable addition to our largely acclaimed compilation “América Invertida”, focusing on the obscure leftfield pop and experimental folk scene from ‘80s Uruguay, making some of these elusive and essential albums available again. Only album (1983) released by this all-female trio, Travesía, an essential asset of the effervescent scene of experimental Uruguayan artists who at the time mixed folklore, the avant-garde and pop under the influence of bossa nova and tropicalia. The minimalist instrumentation highlighted the trio's complex and ethereal vocal arrangements resulting in a beautiful album, released almost forty years ago but that could have been made yesterday. Perfect listening for fans of the ethereal pop by artists like Antena or Les Disques Du Crépuscule’s sound and lovers of vocal harmonies in the tradition of bands like Free Design. Travesía’s members Mariana Ingold and Estela Magnone would later release outstanding solo albums that have also become very much in-demand in recent times. "Ni Un Minuto Más de Dolor" is reissued here on vinyl for the first time, in its original artwork (plus OBI) and including an insert with liner notes by the Uruguayan music journalist Andrés Torrón.

Laila Sakini fleshes out her Princess Diana of Wales avatar on a quietly stunning album of slowburn, coygaze dream-pop for the ever-wonderful A Colourful Storm. Following a trio of wonders released last year - her AOTY contending ‘Vivienne’ and it’s endlessly layered 'Into the Traffic, Under the Moonlight’ companion piece, as well as a brilliantly distinctive submission for our Documenting Sound series, on Princess Diana Of Wales Sakini finds a contemplative and opaque downstroke, her forlorn vocals convected via radiant webs of reverb in an ephemeral style of songcraft that drifts effortlessly, like the sound of someone coming to terms with themselves. Making use of negative space as an evocative ingredient, she keeps everything in a sublime tension between reserved emotion and the lingering decay of FX, effectively allowing us into her space but at arms reach, obfuscated by pink hued smoke and down lit in a manner that keeps her features oblique but tangible. And like everything we’ve heard from Sakini before - her work here is multi-dimensional, its emotional complexity taking a while to resolve, its impact multiplied in waiting. Lulled into existence with the snoring bass and sleepy cicadas of ’Sleet’, Laila's voice comes to occupy a dreamily illusive mid-ground, smudged into whispers and drizzly atmospheres on the breathy country nocturne of ’Still Beach’ and plumbing rich depths of her echo chamber in the all too fleeting ‘Closer’. Flip it over and the kneaded bass presence of ‘Exhaust’ guides us into a sort of flinty 2-step dream-sequence, before that dream logic steers a lonesome post punk bass and dubbed snare rolls of ‘Fragments of Blue’. On the closing ‘Choir Chant’, harpy squeals ride against a low slung bassline, one part Coil, one part Joy Division, notched with a longing detachment. Difficult to absorb and benefiting from attentive, repeat listens, Princess Diana of Wales resonates with these strange twilight times above perhaps anything else we’ve listened to this year. "What is real and how does it feel?" the cryptic press release asks. We're gonna be unravelling that for months.

Part of only a small and very much underground music scene in his hometown of Venice, Gigi Masin self released two modestly pressed LP's 'Wind' (1986) and 'Wind Collector' (1991) and appeared along side Charles Hayward for the Sub Rosa compilation LP "Les Nouvelles Musiques De Chambre Volume 2" (1988).

Having met with little commercial success in Italy at the time, Gigi Masin's solo albums remained for the most part totally unknown. His music has though in recent years, and seemingly by pure word of mouth, developed almost something of a cult following.

Gigi Masin's uniquely intricate and at times deeply emotive compositions take the listener into a realm of contemplation, a spellbound mind state where time and space appear to dissolve. His sparse and hypnotic often loop-based compositions seem to draw parallels with Detroit Techno's earliest beginnings, all at once conjuring those same feelings of both melancholic longing and ecstatic joy.

With access to Masin's large body of work, far greater than that of the handful of released recordings, Music From Memory's new compilation covers a period of over 30 years, from the mid 1980's up until recent works . Including seventeen compositions, most of which have remained unreleased or unavailable until now, 'Talk To The Sea' aims to shine a light on Gigi Masin's unique and heartfelt talent. This is electronic music from the soul."

Japanese Breakfast's 'Soft Sounds From Another Planet' is less of a concept album about space exploration so much as it is a mood board come to life. Over the course of 12 tracks, Michelle Zauner explores a sonic landscape of her own design, one that's big enough to contain her influences. There are songs on this album that recall the pathos of Roy Orbison’s ballads, while others could soundtrack a cinematic drive down one of Blade Runner's endless skyways. Zauner's voice is capacious; one moment she's serenading the past, the next she's robotically narrating a love story over sleek monochrome, her lyrics more pointed and personal than ever before. While 'Psychopomp' was a genre-spanning introduction to Japanese Breakfast, this visionary sophomore album launches the project to new heights.

"Feelings was written and produced by Ekin Fil amidst the months of anxious tension that 2020 laid upon us, taking around 1 year to manifest in its final form. Yet underneath the opaque veneer of swooning drones, timeworn chords and verbal lamentations, glimpses of sanguinity and optimism flicker through the fabric of the work, mirroring the perpetual state of uncertainty and isolation we collectively faced that year, suspended between months of dissolute ambivalence and minute, optimistic spurs."

On November 11th the widely-loved electronic maestro Gigi Masin returns with ‘Vahinè' – a mini album of beautiful and distinct music that is unmistakably his, sounding better than ever. Masin always pours his heart into composing, but here it takes on a potent new level of heavy emotion – as it’s a tribute to his late wife, who sadly passed away last year. “There is a Tahitian dance called ‘Aparima’. It consists of graceful, sinuous and fascinating movements, which tell you stories and legends about love or tradition. The ‘Vahinè' are now dancing, the Tahitian females, with smiles and gestures that could be symbolic or descriptive but are always gentle, harmonious, charming. I was watching this documentary, it was almost 4 in the morning, but I couldn't sleep; I was in front of the television for hours, my wife had passed away the day before, and I was watching hands and arms swaying. I told myself that maybe it’s so, at the end of the road it’s possible to realize dreams, and I’m sure that she is finally able to dance like never before, and is able to move without any impediment, with no suffering, free to make all the movements that she couldn't make for so long, turning to me with a smile and a wink. So, in the clouds, you will discover and see an extraordinary 'Vahinè', because she will move and dance and smile until the end of time.” Gigi Masin A future-retro dreamscape where stripes of early evening sun pour through partially closed venetian blinds; kalimba, piano and steel pans meet on the incredibly evocative ‘Marilene (Somewhere in Texas)’. The Balearic/Italo house heart of ‘Barumini’ throbs throughout a celestial epiphany, whilst ‘Shadye’ is a sun blinded ambient mirage where angelic voices and electric guitar intertwine, before more heavenly music ensues on the trance-like ‘Malvina’. A heart-wrenchingly beautiful evocation of transitioning to the other side, ‘Valerie Crossing’ is Gigi’s compelling and inspirational take on death, with a vivid evocation of something spiritual, existential and metaphysical. His exemplary approach shows decease not as a cause for despair, but a philosophical and poetic exploration of where souls go, when they leave their earthly bodies. Masin closes with ‘Vahinè' – a twitchy, levitational piece of sublime deep techno, which transmits high strength vibrations of powerful emotions. On both this track, and the album of the same name, there’ s no pseudo intellectual ambient posturing with cod academic angles tagged on; This is music of real substance, coming from a real place. It’s saturated with feelings, but turns mourning into affecting art, and even a beacon of hope. Helmed by the deftly talented Alessia Avallone, Language Of Sound is new record label which marks ‘Vahine’ as its maiden voyage. Language Of Sound is also a management company founded in 2017, with singular talents Ron Trent, Lyra Pramuk, Huerco S, Carmen Villain, Gigi Masin, Paquita Gordon and Soundwalk Collective on their impeccable roster. Dedicated to facilitating ideal conditions for artists to flourish, where appropriate Avallone also collaborates creatively, including the video for Gigi Masin’s ‘Marilene (somewhere in Texas)’ which she produced and directed.

Jonas Wiese’s TIBSLC (standing for The International Billionaire’s Secret Love Child) presents its second album on the sferic label. ‘Hypertranslucent’ derives from the same recording sessions as 2021’s sprawling ‘Decisive Tongue Shifts - Situation Based Compositions’ double LP, with late Nineties ambient music being used as a particular source of inspiration to create evocations of massive cityscapes at night. and , after the post-industrial / deconstructed club. A work that integrates the Ethereal sound design of Mastering is also great with Stephan Mathieu! Limited to 500 copies.

Bruno De Angelis and Giovanna Gulinello unwittingly met in London in the late 70’s, after being introduced by a mutual friend. Both Bruno and Giovanna arrived with varying ambitions. Giovanna wanted to learn English or be a painter, while Bruno found work at the Royal Post Office, which he found testing. It wasn’t until Bruno rescued Giovanna from an awkward date that the pair became a couple. At the time, music was just something they did for fun. Bruno already had an acoustic guitar and G bought a bass. Those were the days when you could start a new band, whether you could play or not, and new independent labels were springing up. Rough Trade Records was literally around the corner. In 1981 the pair moved back to Italy and found an apartment in Rome. It’s here that they began to focus on their music and where they started ‘recording’ their tracks. First, they would record the rhythm, maybe add the Gigster (the name of their “cheap drum machine”), the bass, and then, as they made a copy of the first cassette onto a second cassette they would add guitar, more synth, or both at the same time. After that, it was not unusual to copy from the second cassette back into the first cassette adding even more “stuff”. As with many artists during the early 80’s, the Influenza Prods’ sound was the direct result of the accessibility of emerging electronic instruments and the recording equipment available to them. The duo was resourceful and inventive, acquiring new equipment as resources allowed. They recorded dialogue from British Soap Operas on their TV set, which were later added to their tracks, while further making use of their family’s cutlery sets, which were used to fill in certain percussion sections The duo’s homespun recordings found a web of admirers in the unofficial distribution of tape trading and mail-art scenes. Despite the DIY ethos and the fact that most tapes were handmade, the Influenza Prods managed to ‘release’ three tapes which comprised of the Greatest Tits (1983), Cheek-A-Bomba (1984) and Quasi Solo (1985). Bruno and Giovanna were sadly subjected to serious family problems, including the loss of loved ones in their lives and eventually parted ways, concluding the Influenza Prods. However, to this day they remain close friends who keep in touch regularly.

You’ll Never Get To Heaven (Alice Hansen and Chuck Blazevic aka Slow Attack Ensemble) returns with their fourth release Wave Your Moonlight Hat for the Snowfall Train, a collection of ethereal songs that move through the mercurial weather patterns of minimalism and dream pop. The duo named this album after the closing track on Phil Yost’s 1967 release Bent City, inspired by its prescient use of delay processing in elevating spare beatless arrangements into haunting arrays of sonic afterimages — an approach Hansen and Blazevic explore on this outing in their own way, with a few favoured instruments and a Chorus Echo and Revox in hand. The result is a collection of sparse, lightly dub-infused songs and instrumentals, equally icy and wistful, characterized by melodic fretless basslines, spaced-out harmonics, watery piano and marimba, hushed vocals, and tape echo treatments. Stylistically, it’s almost as if the duo was imagining what an early This Mortal Coil demo might have sounded like had Ivo enlisted in lieu of the usual cast, with a pared back L’Empire Des Sons as the session band, and June Hardin or a young Julee Cruise on lead vocals. The album evokes an overcast autumnal evening of cloud-watching, an inner journey witness to an expansive spectrum of moods, from nimbus clouds to shimmering sun showers. RIYL: Broadcast, Weekend’s ‘81 Demos, Chantal Weber, Orquesta de las Nubes, Hydroplane, The Moon and the Melodies, Eberhard Weber.

A new avatar on 3XL, someone you may or may not have encountered before on the experiences / west mineral axis, tending to the inner life with a lush fantasy of sound-bathing beatdown and mossy atmospherics somewhere between Ulla x Malibu x Headz-era Mo Wax. ‘Earth FF’ yields a delicate bouquet of synaesthetic ambience designed to sooth yr frayed nerves. The album transposes a flickering vibe to inner sanctums, painting an organically detailed vista that hinges around late ‘90s/early ‘00s illbient/trip hop atmospherics referencing classic Mo Wax / Headz, and melting out into a sanguine bbblisss enhanced by a patina of field recordings. Distinguished by a tender grasp of tongue-tip thizz and lysergic nuance, the 10 tracks fan out in pruned designs between pads and whispered vox reminding us of Kenji Kawai or Nozomu Matsumoto on ‘Evil Day’, via the silvery contrails of ‘Beacon’, the eyrie illbient of ‘Root Loop’, to purest writhing-in-the-floatation tank kiss-off on ’Sunn’ replete with ASMR gynoid vocals on a Perila x Ulla x Malibu tip. With no sharp edges to snag your tumescent skin, it’s all low-lit neon, palm trees gently swaying in the breeze, eyes-rolling in the early-hours, blissed sorta gear.

Fine debut album from blue-eyed soul crooner Seán Being, a softly smudged suite of gauzy, subtly autotuned vocal harmonies a la How To Dress Well, Olan Monk or groggy aspects of pigbaby, wreathed with folksy strings and fractured grooves Seán’s succinct bouquet of seven songs, ‘Faux Window’ is a real one for the daydreamers. Its septet of carefully frayed paeans float by in a gentle haze from the ambient spritz of ‘Fake (Window)’ thru introspective thinking-about-thinking liens of thought recalling a lo-fi Laura Groves in ‘On’, to dialled-down R&B in ‘Everything’, whilst ‘Wasting’ shimmers with a knackered folksy lustre akin to pigbaby, and ‘Otherwise’ continues that drafting smudge to more Americana themed strums. The harmonised glossolalia of ’F.T.O.’ calls to mind Elaine Howley via How To Dress Well to these ears, and ‘This Is What I Want’ keens off into hazy middle distance ambient-pop style with shades of more eaze & claire rousay’s pop works.

Svitlana Nianio and Oleksandr Yurchenko are musicians with a long history in the still-mysterious
Kiev Underground. Nianio’s first group Cukor Bela Smert [Sugar, The White Death] were active
from the late 80’s through to the early 90’s, and following an intense period of touring, collaboration,
experimentation and a string of mixtapes and self-published recordings, Nianio’s first official solo
album ‘Kytytsi’ was released in 1999 by Poland’s Koka Records. Oleksandr Yurchenko, a longtime
collaborator and a pivotal figure in the Kiev music scene, was instrumental in creating the Novaya
Scena, a loose conglomerate of artists who encouraged each other to excavate both the sounds of
the West and Ukrainian tradition. ‘Znayesh Yak? Rozkazhy’ (‘Know How? Tell Me’) is the duo’s most
fully realised collaboration, an enchanting, complete world in which Yurchenko’s instrumentation
and playfulness with form frames Nianio’s otherworldly soprano, recalling Liz Fraser steeped
in contrapuntal melody and hymnal improvisation. Originally made available on a self-released
cassette in 1996 (re-issued in 2017 by Ukraine’s Delta Shock label) where the album was twinned
with ‘Lisova Kolekciya’ (re-issued on LP in 2017 by Skire) this is the debut release of ‘Znayesh Yak?
Rozkazhy’ outside of Ukraine.
Recorded in an abandoned park in Kiev during a fertile period for artists and musicians following
the collapse of the Soviet Union, ‘Znayesh Yak? Rozkazhy’ sees Nianio and Yurchenko combine Casio
keyboard, hammered dulcimer, percussion, and Nianio’s unmistakeable soprano vocalisations to create
music sympathetic to the specific locations in which they chose to record. Yurchenko’s contribution
is perhaps more present on this recording than anything else we have heard from the duo. His
percussive dulcimer playing provides the basis on which Nianio can weave delicate keyboard lines
while playfully contorting her voice, shifting from a low register reminiscent of Nico to what could
be perceived as the call of a bird or an animal in distress. Whatever the intent, the effect is haunting
and beautiful in equal measure.
There’s a prevailing earthiness on the recordings, found in the warm hiss of the lo-fi means of
recording or the grinding, unspecified sounds that occasionally accompany the melody, like drones
created on the fly by hands trying to keep warm in the ice. A prevailing mood of fragility and beauty
seeps from these melodies, delicate moments of clarity spun by the two musicians. ‘Znayesh Yak?
Rozkazhy’ is a dream spun in twilight, a crystalline, private world where the listener feels both alien
and welcome. 

Strawberries ripen in the spring. Or so they used to, in a more reliable world, one that seems to be rapidly receding in our collective rearview mirror. Presently, “spring” is a troubled concept — fraught with anxiety. Our seasons, if they are seasons at all, are paradoxical. Crops fail, or they ripen prematurely, all at once, and into a burst of rot. Impossibly, somehow, the supermarket shelves stay stocked (mostly, for now at least), and there are buckets of strawberries on every corner. But, of course, their nature is suspect. And they don’t taste like they used to. Or maybe that’s just ruinous nostalgia. But somewhere along the way we certainly lost something. Everybody knows. Strawberry Season (Leaving Records, November 9 2022) responds tenderly to this sorry state of affairs, not with false comfort — nor escapism. Rather, the album conveys, often wordlessly, that there remains an abundance of sweetness amidst our increasing unease. While much of twentieth century American popular and folk music may have dwelt on the beauty and plenitude of the prairie, More Eaze applies a similar Romantic focus to the small bursts of fecundity that now hide in plain sight. Blending found sound, generative music, a knack for elegant, classically-informed melodic arrangement, and a sort of Liz-Fraser-by-way-of-hyperpop approach to vocals, Strawberry Season offers unique solace — providing an occasion for the kind of deep listening that our overstimulated and undernourished spirits require if there is to be any hope at all (and of course there must be hope). More Eaze (serving as composer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, producer, and sound artist) guides us incrementally to this locus of attentiveness. Strawberry Season begins with the softly sweeping gentle pets. Early intimations of Velvet Underground give way, indeed, to a string arrangement that John Cale might have saved for Paris 1919. The second track, Suped, features a kaleidoscopic swirl of grocery checkout scanners that eventually coalesce and release with the subtle strumming of a harp. On known, in the midst of a nearly elegiac outflow of feeling, a shower starts to run. Someone steps inside, pulling the curtain back, sending the plastic rings clattering. Moments later, the unmistakable sound of the showerer blowing their nose — an inclusion that is at once light-hearted and jarringly, movingly intimate. Strawberry Season’s second to last song, low resolution at santikos, serves as a sustained meditation on all that has come before it. Building slowly throughout its nine minutes, teetering, at times, on the edge of danceability, it dissipates suddenly, and Strawberry Season concludes with the rustling of clothes, snippets of distant conversation, creaking floorboards, an exhale and a sniff. There is a feeling of having arrived, of temporary reprieve in the face of uncertainty. A hint of a season yet to come, or one that is perhaps only now accessible in dreams.

Eagerly awaited yet patiently bubbling under the surface, UwU dust bath emerges with its primal offering, a deeply generous and authentic sonic array from low-key prolifics Purelink. Despite the Chicago trio’s humbly mysterious presence, the transcendental music speaks resoundingly. UwU 001 is rooted in the group’s most sincere and early jams; exuding an innocent magic almost impossible to recreate, tranquil effervescence of the highest nature; three otherworldly originals harmoniously colluding with an intercontinental all-star cast of remixers. xphresh (special guest DJ & Ben Bondy), Low Flung & Nice Girl each respectfully contributing to the synonymous mutual (& virtual) affiliation, kindredship and vision entrenched in the UwU ethos. An immersive sense of bliss exudes from even the initial vibrations of the A side. Soaked in textural pleasure, Butterfly Jam feels suspended; gloriously hovering with organic ebb and flow. Preparing to bloom, the harmonic design starts to flourish, thriving together with rhythmic and dynamic nuances to form a mesmerizing spherical habitat. Fantasize the interior of a bubble with Fine Pink Mist, effortlessly floating and entirely balanced; rich, assured subs anchor the glistening percussive texture and pads, providing a soft bed for experiments in melody and tone; hypnotic movement propelling throughout. The concluding original Dozen Sunbeams evokes a dance of flickering light, dynamically subtle motion maturing in each voice. Everything has a perfect place; an evolving trademark of Purelink’s delicate, yet deliberate, chillout ecstasy. Each track is thoughtfully paired with a complimenting remix on the B side, preserving and echoing the ethereal essence while adding a personally inspired touch, nurturing fresh existence and perspective. Arguably the most unforeseen plot twist comes via xphresh (Special Guest DJ & Ben Bondy), causing Rih✫nna’s notoriously iconic vocals to drip like honey, seeping into the fuzzed post-dancehall daydream; a sunkissed celebration. Low Flung carries the brightly burning torch, contributing a deep-haze rendition which exhibits elevated harmonics and pulsing drum delays, tripped out extraterrestrial heaven. Lastly, Nice Girl’s semi locked groove percussion heavy mix plants our feet firmly back on earth; infectiously spirited and euphoric like the original, the luminous stabs glow alongside a bulked out beat and vocal whispers - witness the transformation to full dancefloor status. In case you aren’t fully satisfied, the Good Girl No Infringement Dub comes as a digital treat, stripped back sublime and mesmerized. UwU dust bath is inaugurating its anticipated catalog with pure, unadulterated aural alchemy. The synergy throughout this entire release reveals an unspoken affinity and divine love language between the label and artists that can translate to how we feel and absorb music, its sound and a subconscious sense of intimacy and connection.

“Black Against An Orange Line” is an optimistic meditation. “At times these days I think of the way the sun would seton the farmland around our small house in the autumn. A view of the horizon, the whole entire circle of it,if you turned, the sun setting behind you, the sky in frontbecoming pink and soft, then slightly blue again, as thoughit could not stop going on in its beauty, then the land closestto the setting sun would get dark, almost black against the orangeline of horizon, but if you turn around, the land is stillavailable to the eye with such softness, the few trees, the quiet fields of cover crops already turned, and the sky lingering, lingering, then finally dark”

NEW one from 1/2 of acclaimed duo BLACKWATER... more sooon.. (Mint / New - limited version with screen print) Debut solo album from The Dengie Hundred, one half of London’s Blackwater whose slo-motion synth-pop LP ‘Navigation’ was acclaimed by cult record shops Monorail, All Night Flight and World of Echo, which included it in its review of the best releases of 2021. Named after a clifftop cabin overlooking Whitsand Bay in Cornwall’s ‘forgotten corner’, ‘Brackenbank’ charts the first weeks of a new relationship between long-distance lovers in London and the South West. Desiring vocals move like the tide toward and away from drones and dub-soaked drum machines that recall heart beats, train tracks, the clinks of boat rigs and clunks of ferry chains. Composed of sounds recorded in an unfamiliar landscape of sea and rock and sky, ‘Brackenbank’s’ electronic sonic atmosphere was processed on the lines of the Great Western Railway as The Dengie Hundred travelled back and forth: looking forward; longing after. Kingsand, Cawsand, Eddystone, Firestone – the album’s grid references are both geographical and emotional, offering love songs and instrumentals as pulsing trances from places that can be traced with a finger across the map of The Rame, Cornwall’s ‘most unsung’ peninsula. Brackenbank was mastered by Carim Clasmann, mastered and cut for vinyl by Stefan Betke (aka Pole).

Prescient jazz-techno mutator Jamie Hodge (Conjoint, Studio Pankow) ushers a long overdue solo debut album, of sorts, with Demdike Stare’s DDS label; an archival harvest spanning his earliest experiments circa his Plus 8 debut thru to ’00s anomalies - hybrid ambient techno jazz and incredibly inventive forerunners of dubbed electronica - bookended by two Demdike Stare edits. Essential listening if yr into anything on the axis from Move D to Detroit Escalator Company, Jan Jelinek or Tortoise. Jamie Hodge grew up in Chicago in a jazz-loving family, first forming a band when he was a teenager, using drum machines and keyboards to rattle thru covers of Joy Division and Ministry tracks. His sound progressed into dubbier spaces when he befriended Ted Gray, a local record store clerk, and into off-kilter jazz when he ran into Bundy K. Brown and David Grubbs, who let Hodge watch rehearsals of the first Gastr del Sol recordings. But the transformational moment came when a friend (pictured on the "Diagonals" cover no less) played Hodge the 1991-released "From Our Minds To Yours Vol. 1", the first compilation on Richie Hawtin and John Acquaviva's Plus 8 label. From here, Hodge took his growing obsession with dance music to early Chicago raves, and began to explore European techno and UK hardcore. Eventually he met Hawtin in person after convincing his mom to cut through Canada on the way back from visiting East Coast colleges, and released his Plus 8 debut by the time he'd moved into a college dorm in 1993, using the Born Under A Rhyming Planet moniker for the first time. Hodge was also immersed in Chicago’s famous experimental jazz scene of the ‘90s - later on establishing the short-lived but excellent Aestuarium label that brought the work of Philip Cohran And The Artistic Heritage Ensemble to wider attention. Hodge would release two more 12"s for Plus 8, heading to Germany to connect with David Moufang (Move D) and forming Conjoint, later Studio Pankow. The material presented on "Diagonals" takes us right back to Hodge's vintage era, when he was using a mutating spread of equipment - Korg MS-20, Atari ST, Nord Micro Modular, ARP Axxe, Yamaha TG77 and TX816, and Alesis HR-16B - to assemble tracks that reached through his wide range of musical interests. According to Hodge, more Plus 8 releases were planned but never materialised, so this long overdue set fills in the gaps between records like 2000's classic Conjoint plate "Earprints" and Studio Pankow's still-underrated 2005 slow-burner "Linienbusse”. ‘Diagonals’ sputters to life with a Demdike Stare edit of a track Hodge recorded in Brooklyn while he was on summer break from college and working at a local record distributor. Inspired by music he'd seen at that year's New Music Seminar, he used an Atari ST and Yamaha TG77, a glassy FM module, to conduct a mood that hovers between '80s new age DIY tapes and gaseous dub techno. ‘Handley' digs into the tranquil electrified jazz modalities over a swung drum machine rhythm, squeezing robotic soul from a modest arsenal of gear, lashing the hypermelodic post-Detroit sensitivity of The Black Dog/Plaid to Chicago-axis experiments from Tortoise and Gastr del Sol. The shorter interludes are just as engrossing: Hodge experiments FM spray on 'Trampoline' and dusty Jan Jelinek-esque electroid funk on 'Menthol', ducking further into jazz on 'Hot Nachos...', augmenting his electronics with fretless electric bass. Cherry-picked by DDS, the selection best portrays the mix of soulful depth and atmospheric effervescence that defined that elusive era in electronic music; spanning a late night spectrum of styles from dusty electro-acoustic ambient prisms to supple deep house pearls, with a special strain of gently frayed computer jazz touching on the outer limits of Detroit techno. It's exceptional material that reminds us of a time when electronic music was frothing over with hope, futurism and revolutionary spirit, so whether you're into the post-Artificial Intelligence era or the Jazz-looped investigations of Jan Jelinek and crew, "Diagonals" feels like stepping into a particularly good dream.

Muir and Caminiti are sick and tired of ambient music's bizarre entanglement with the wellness industrial complex. You know what we're on about here: healing sounds and soothing balms for well-heeled adult babies to jam on Instagram, supported by their aesthetic collection of verdant succulants (modular synth not essential, but preferred). And yeh we fully realize that the world's going to shit, but we're also pretty sure that a guided meditation isn't gonna lead us to salvation, especially when it's accompanied by music that's at best a poor approximation of private press biz that came out four decades ago. Growing up in California, Muir and Caminiti quickly developed a deep suspicion of this kinda snake oil peddling and on "Talisman" fabricate a charm to ward off fakers - a subtly fanged ambient-not-ambient dedication to desert doom, mountain jazz and lysergic experimental forms. The duo split the labor cleanly: seasoned improviser Caminiti handles electric guitar, and Muir works as a sonic alchemist, grinding Caminiti's takes into dust and subliming each note into a thick, vaporous haze. Anyone who's heard either artist's work before will have an idea of where to start, and there are traces of Caminiti's blasted earth recordings as part of Barn Owl, as well as his cinematic solo productions; Muir meanwhile picks up where last year's Ilian Tape-released "Mana" left off, orchestrating a mood that's bleak but not suffocating, and dark but not without cracks of light. The most obvious stylistic comparisons are to Seattle doom metal originators Earth - particularly 2005's country-fried "Hex" - and Norwegian maestro Terje Rydpal, who drove prog, jazz and psychedelic music into new territory in the 1970s and 1980s. Caminiti takes these touchstones and exposes them to the harsh Los Angeles sunlight, further drying out Earth's Pacific Northwestern blues and adding some neon flicker to Rydpal's icy, mountainous naturalism. He also admits he was soaking up pedal steel music at the time, and you can hear the trace of artists like Chas Smith, Daniel Lanois and BJ Cole in his recumbent riffs. A trained sound engineer who's spent the last few years refining his skills in Berlin, Muir looks to the GRM school for his direction, and employs subtle electronic processes, occasionally augmenting them with his own field recordings. This isn't just arbitrary birdsong to blithely suggest the natural world over billowing major chords, but evocative audio snapshots of the burning Californian landscape. It's these small touches that ground "Talisman" and provide it with a brawny narrative backdrop - the duo have created a record that's devotional and melodic, but one that never resorts to cheap tricks or well-worn manipulation. They've instead landed on a sound that's antagonistic but not annoyingly confrontational (we see you power ambient) or exhaustingly conceptual. Diving into one track or another is almost pointless, Muir and Caminiti assembled "Talisman" to be played in a single sitting - it's a mood piece that's unwrenchable from its essential whole. Listening is a chance to escape into another universe for a while, one that takes rough and rugged elements (Muir and Caminiti bonded over their love of contemporary death metal bands like Spectral Voice and Blood Incantation) and refines them into lavish sigils that suggest the confusing unpredictability of our era. Anti-ambient? Maybe.

Mindgames follows Strangelove Music's previous issue of Sjunne Ferger's early singles and soundtrack work on Childrens Mind (SL 106LP, 2021). Occupying its own hinterland within Scandinavia's early '80s electronic/progressive movements, Mindgames navigates a lifetime of musical and personal exploration by Sjunne Ferger. Child jazz drummer prodigy, arts venue operator, music teacher and Aikido practitioner, a bewildering array of personal and creative influences are distilled into the Örebro native's only long player. Written around a new wave context, his own jazz fusion roots and at times with an unintentionally Balearic outcome, Sjunne goes some way to conjuring up a singular sounding album of the time. Narratives of love and loss, calls to self-empowerment and mindfulness, the new age zeal throughout follows Sjunne's own awakening. Its music caught in meditative reflection one moment before propelling into ecstatic revelation the next, with Sjunne's collective Exit providing electric backing throughout. Propelled by the drummer's beat, it's hard not to be caught up with Sjunne's personal vision of a "Polymood Music" LP painstakingly transferred and fully remastered from the original tapes, with new liner notes and photography.

Fields Of Mist has been traveling to Munich for years and during a visit last year Packed Rich brought him to the studio and introduced us to each other. Smooth jams to calm down and enjoy some proper laid back west coast vibes.

For the past 10 years, it has been a sacred place that has expanded the horizon of the underground scene in Copenhagen, Denmark, to the world, and defines one of the current experimental lifelines represented by and . A new catalog of Posh Isolation, a sacred place where you can feel the shoegaze sound of a new era, which is a prestigious and unprecedented beauty, is in stock at once! !! The latest 2022 "The Last Picture Show" by Christian Stadsgaard's famous project Vanity Productions, which is known for his activities in the noise duo with Loke Rahbek sponsored by Posh, Damien Dubrovnik and The Empire Line, has been released on CD. A masterpiece that created an exceptional drone gaze sound full of melancholy and introspection as a desolate by repeating loop operations! You can enjoy the fantastic and majestic sound that is typical of Posh, which makes you feel the gaze of "somewhere other than here" far from this world such as the equinoctial week and the heavens. Limited to 300 copies.

Masterpieces from Australia-based label that seems friends of the current dub ambient landmark West Mineral led by Huerco S. The debut album under the name of "J" by Australian experimental musician = Justin Cantrell, who is also known as the name of Ju Ca and collaboration with mdo as a popular unit called "picnic", has appeared. A daydream or heavenly fantasy, an intimate & nocturnal fantasy ambient / modern classical masterpiece that keeps swaying and swaying forever, it can only be said to be the best! Mastered by Shy (uon).

Pontiac Streator mints a solo debut for Brian Leeds’ (Huerco S.) West Mineral Ltd. label with a bouquet of plasmic ambient lobe strokers, dusted with the guest charms of Ben Bondy, Perila, Nikolay Kozlov, and Protozoa Project. Arriving as a more personalised pursuit of the genteel themes that bound his pair of albums with Ulla in 2018-19, ’Sone Glo’ portrays the Philly-based ambient avatar at his most slanted and enchanting with a sandman suite of late night ambient blissouts. It’s an effortless listen, lathering aqueous textures and wistful melodies into a therapeutic hush, blessed with a prized sensuality that has placed him at the bosom of the neo-ambient love-in over the past five years. A good handful of those ambient lovers chime into his sound here too, drizzling whispered vox and smudged hooks into his vaporous matrix with results that ooze across variegated strains of balmy to gruff ambient dembow with a deeply seductive appeal and mind-drift pathos. Streator steers clear of any tricks or stunts in favour of slow-burn textural depth and subliminal rhythmic hypnosis. He cuts straight to the heart on opener 'Atlas Obscura' with Protozoa Project’s soothing glossolalia suffused to a sloshing dembow groove that underlines the whole album’s subtle pressure changes. He patently cares for your downtime, gently EQ’ing the chakras with the tongue-tip lather of ‘Picture of the Woods’, and later placing Perila’s narration over liquid electro pulses on album standout ‘I Want Something’, while Ben Bondy lends a reverberant touch to ‘Purp Thread’ and Folder’s Nikolay Kozlov brings a thawed ambient thizz to ‘Heliacal’. Still, Streator is the inventive star of his own show, effectively doing for dembow what Kassem Mosse did with deep minimal house on the irresistible sway and heavy-lidded pads of ‘Ixora’, before liquifying limbs with the slinky roll of his instrumentals on ‘Surge XL’ and the eyes-down delicacy ‘Red Kings’.

Jake Muir’s by-now classic debut for sferic is a thing of spectral wonder; a luxurious set of gently phased and looped edits and field recordings based around gutted Beach Boys samples cast adrift in a sea of atmospheric shimmers. Followers of work by Jan Jelinek, Pinkcourtesyphone, Andrew Pekler or even Rhythm & Sound should be all over this one - a highly immersive exercise in blissed worlbuilding.

sferic cruise the best coast with Jake Muir, an artist and field recordist hailing from Los Angeles, California, who has quietly become one of the more interesting operators in this crowded field. His conceptual approach to sampling follows a lineage of artists at the very top of the game - from Fennesz’s re-imagined cover-versioning on his pioneering ‘Plays’ (also using the Beach Boys as source material), to DJ Olive’s quietly radical Illbient movements in the mid 90’s, to Jan Jelinek’s loop-finding heyday a decade or so later. Muir isn't so much interested in making sounds for mindless zoning-out, but instead evaluates the very essence of sound itself, in a way that feels like a microscopic view of the very fibre of popular music.

On ‘Lady’s Mantle’ Muir combines these elements with aqueous field recordings made everywhere from Iceland to the beaches of California with results that limn a wide but smudged sense of space and place. With fading harmonic auroras and glinting, half-heard surf rock melodies, the album is rendered in an abstract impressionist manner that suggests a fine tracing of in-between-spaces, perhaps describing the metropolitan sprawl giving way to vast mountain ranges and oceanic scales.

In effect the album recalls the intoxicated airs of Pinkcourtesyphone (a.k.a L.A. resident Richard Chartier) and Andrew Pekler’s sensorial soundscapes and even the plangent production techniques of Phil Spector and the subby sublime of Rhythm & Sound. For all its implied sense of space, there’s a paradoxically close intimacy to 'Lady’s Mantle’ which feels like you’re the passenger in Muir’s ride, and he patently knows the scenic route...

(Boomkat)