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There are fewer great guitar trio records than you'd suspect. Guitar duo sessions are far more abundant, and these three players have all done their share of those. But the dynamics of a trio are more fickle. And when creating collaborative non-hierarchical music, maintaining a balance between three distinct voices is not easy. It requires rapt attention, a fearless approach to entering the unknown, and very good ears to do it successfully. Clearly, Connors, Vallera and Sharp display mastery of all of these conditions and then some. Recorded live at P.I.T. (Property Is Theft) in Brooklyn, When the Moon Is New documents the first meeting for the trio. Loren and Elliott, two of the best known experimenting guitarists on the planet, have a long shared history, dating back to the days of the legendary Chapel Arts Center in New Haven. Elliott appeared there regularly and often did some jamming with Loren on those occasions. Michael Vallera is from a different generation and came of age in a world where players like Loren, Ellliot, Keith Rowe and Derek Bailey had already blown apart any and all notions of the guitar's limitations. His work explores textures, colors and possibilities born from the knowledge that there are no limits to the guitar's sonic possibilities. Together, the three create a beautifully layered universe of sound, as wide open and cosmic as recent images from the Webb Space Telescope. Occasionally I think I can ID some complex pluckery as Sharp's, some blues-canted shimmer as Connor's or some mutli-valent sound sheet as Vallera's, but in truth, this is a excellent example of “fourth mind” creation in the Burroughsian sense. The individual parts played by each of artists combine themselves into something much larger than three commingled streams. There's a gigantic heft to the collective sound that will bowl you over in the best possible way. A truly magnificent record, When the Moon Is New, is an immersive and joyful example of experimental music at its most inviting and evocative. If it doesn't thrill you, I don't know what would. -Byron Coley, 2026
2026 restock. "Stunning, heavy requiem for ten electric guitars." Recorded in 1994, with the following guitarists: Steven Antonelli (alto guitar), Eric Hubel (tenor guitar), Brannon Hungness (soprano & octave guitars), Phil Kline (tenor guitar), Carolyn Master (alto guitar), John Myers (soprano guitar), Dave Reid (bass & octave guitars), Ellen Watkins (soprano & octave guitars). Minimal and massive, for fans of Sonic Youth, Black Lips, etc. "Subtitled 'The Mystery' and 'The Mystery Pt. 2,' these two symphonies concern themselves with the two big questions: Life and Death. They are both scored for eight guitars, two basses, keyboard, drums, vocal and two conductors. Symphony No. 8 has two movements: 'The Passion' and 'Spiritual Anarchy' that both build upon sustained tones that create a counterpoint by means of delays in scale and other patterns and micro tunings. There are also two movements in Symphony No. 10: 'The Final Problem' and 'The Horror.' These are built in a similar manner to the techniques in No. 8 but the tuning and scales employed are different, creating another sensation yet still as intense and continuous in rhythm as No. 8." -- "Blue" Gene Tyranny, All Music Guide
For more than three decades, Go Hirano has developed a quietly enthralling sound world on the peripheries of the Japanese underground. Emerging in the 1990s, Hirano released three albums with the revered PSF Records label and established himself as an artist with a unique sense of melody and atmosphere that was both entrancing and intimate. His work, largely recorded at home and in the field, de-emphasized technical perfection in favor of an unvarnished immediacy that imbued the quiet moments of daily life with a dreamlike splendor.
On The Habit, Hirano brings together recordings that span decades of his playing the piano and other instruments on a daily basis. The core of the album was recorded in 2020 at Pianola Records in Tokyo, while other pieces draw from recordings dating as far back as the late 1980s. Through this span of years, a coherent vision emerges, marked by patient, subtle engagement with repetition, space, and resonance. Hirano works with a restrained palette—piano, pianica, wind chime, percussion, and synthesizer—to develop simple melodic figures that gradually shift in harmony and texture. Spacious piano chords expand through soft synthesizer tones. Near-imperceptible rhythmic frameworks intertwine with tranquil phrases that drift and merge with the sounds of the world around them.
This synthesis of music and the environment in which it is created is critical to Hirano's approach. Rather than isolating the music from its surroundings, he embraces the atmosphere of the moment, the room in which each piece is played, capturing the subtle sounds and artifacts of the artist’s daily experience and the surrounding natural world. For Hirano, these “imperfections” are pathways to vibrant, living expression.
While he may share affinities with Ryuichi Sakamoto, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and even Brian Eno, Hirano's dedication to “initial, unadorned expression” and processing the environment through his own particular filter sets him apart. The Habit reveals a meditative, melodic language unfolding over the decades and within the many spaces of a life in music marked by a unique warmth and beauty.
Loving You To Death is very much about being with someone who is hurting you by hurting themself, knowing you should leave but that you can’t live without them. It’s mostly about one night, or one period of time? I don’t really know anymore, but maybe you can relate. Before writing this I was obsessed with stretching out my little moody riffs into long drawn out ambient pieces, throwing them through the morphagene and seeing what happens. But there is just way too much sound design around me, everything is so slick and impressive and boring and unmemorable. So I tried to keep everything bare, to accept the recordings as they are and to do it without a band. Long live mid-fi, dramatic relationships, obsessiveness, sing-song melodies and unprofessionalism, and huge thanks to Ariana, Matt, Adam, Yas, Nik, Victor, Ouri, Ziggy, my mom, Alan, and everyone else I drove crazy while making this.
Ryoji Ikeda, Japan’s leading electronic composer and visual artist Ryoji Ikeda focuses on the essential characteristics of sound itself and that of visuals as light by means of both mathematical precision and mathematical aesthetics. Ikeda has gained a reputation as one of the few international artists working convincingly across both visual and sonic media.
He elaborately orchestrates sound, visuals, materials, physical phenomena and mathematical notions into immersive live performances and installations.
Eklekto Eklekto is a contemporary percussion collective founded in 1974 in Geneva. Constantly seeking to reinvent percussion music, the group collaborates with living composers and contemporary artists through concerts, multimedia projects and artistic events that question the listener’s expectations towards new musical forms.
Eklekto has premiered over 100 new works and performed hundreds of internationally acclaimed shows.
code name: A-Z by Ryoji Ikeda comprises 26 sonic frequencies which form an audio conversation derived from the US military use of Morse code. Pressed on clear 12" vinyl with 13 locked grooves on each side and the title of each hand etched into the grooves.
Initially released on the occasion of Elevation 2017, an arts festival in Gstaad produced by LUMA Foundation, where Ryoji presented a site-specific installation of Test Pattern.
Two side-long improvisations recorded in a spring evening beneath a 1908 shot tower. That is the whole record, and it is enough. Fysiikka ja Kemia - Physics and Chemistry - surfaced in late 2025 with Biologia, a debut LP on Tampere's Ultraääni Records that the label summed up in a single line: rural psych-jazz improvisations by the Finnish bastard sons of Arbete & Fritid. Three hundred copies, each sleeve screen-printed by hand by the band, gone quickly. We Jazz picked a track for their Friends & Neighbors compilation. Beyond that, almost nothing in print. No interviews, no biography, no real trail. The music has had to speak for itself, which is exactly how the group seems to want it. Haulitorni is the second chapter and a different kind of object. Recorded live on 25 April 2026 at Pispala Jazz, the small spring festival held at the Haulitehdas, the old shot factory that sits at the foot of Pispala's steel lattice tower above Tampere, it drops the six-track sequencing of the debut in favour of two long pieces, one per side. Verkkokalastuksen alkeet - the rudiments of net fishing. Kevätmuutto - the spring migration. Titles that read like chapter headings from a school primer, which is very much the point. The group has always named things this way, borrowing the flat vocabulary of Finnish natural science and rural life and letting the music undercut it. The Arbete & Fritid reference is not idle. Like the Swedish collective in the early 1970s, Fysiikka ja Kemia work a seam where free improvisation, folk memory and a loose psychedelic rock pulse run into one another without any one of them taking charge. On Biologia that produced pieces that could open with a fragment of something like a fiddle tune and end somewhere else entirely, ten minutes later, without a visible seam. Here, with the whole of a side to fill and a room full of people, the pacing stretches. Ideas are allowed to sit. The group's patience is its most distinctive quality - a willingness to stay inside a texture until it changes on its own rather than forcing the turn. A live document, then, from a scene that rarely gets documented: the Pispala hillside and its DIY venues, the Tampere orbit that gave Finland Kemialliset Ystävät and a long line of players working at the edge of jazz and folk without asking permission from either. Released on the same night the group shares a Tampere stage with Samla Mammas Manna, which places the lineage about as clearly as it can be placed.
Named after a now-shuttered nightspot that overlooked the beach on Italy's picturesque Tuscan coast, Maxime Denuc's 'Club Imperiale' is a work of speculative historical fiction, a record that imagines a point of creative symbiosis between the Catholic church and the ecstatic dancefloors of the early '90s. Using a MIDI-controlled pipe organ, Denuc creates dense clouds of impossible-to-play notes that ricochet backwards and forwards through history, from Rome's reverberant cathedrals to the white, sandy beaches of the Balearic Islands. Not simply an album of trance and techno music performed on the organ, 'Club Imperiale' is a byzantine mass of references and lived experiences that considers the physical impact of sound, architecture and setting - and Denuc can trace its genesis to a single moment. Two years ago, the Brussels-based French composer was forwarded a surprising video by a Belgian fan. It was shot during a Wedding at a church in Menorca, where the organist was playing 'Infinite End', the lead track from 2022's 'Nachthorn'. Immediately, Denuc knew that this was the thematic backdrop he'd been waiting for; he imagined the aftermath of the event, wandering through small villages and teetering on a cliff's edge, finding a provincial nightclub and retracing his steps back to the beach to witness the sunrise.
This time around, Denuc was gifted the time and the access he needed to fully refine his concept. The technical side of the process had already been solved; after recording 'Nachthorn', he was now very confident with his system, able to control the pipe organ's keyboards, stops and pedals incredibly precisely using Max/MSP and OpenSoundControl, or OSC. And his relationship with the St. Antonius Church in Düsseldorf had deepened significantly. The cantor offered him a three or four days each month for a year to record the project and Denuc jumped at the chance. He moved into a small apartment nearby and spent every available hour behind the organ, working from 9AM until 5PM, stopping for mass and then returning for another long session, heading back to his studio on the off days to listen back to the recordings and plan fresh approaches. This allowed him to sculpt the experience meticulously, thinking about the history of sacred music and considering the real reasons that its compositions have lingered in the secular consciousness for so long. He wanted to concentrate on the visceral acoustic qualities of the church itself, so used a spatial multi-microphone setup to situate listeners between the concrete walls, fabricating an acoustic experience that's multi-dimensional and cinematic.
And the music itself also had to completely validate Denuc's themes. His compositions needed to feel like waves lapping at the shore, humid air rushing through aging pipes and hazy rave memories imprinting themselves on pliant brains. So on opening track 'Hallucinogen', Denuc reaches back to the mid-'90s directly, directly referencing 'LSD', an enduring psychedelic trance anthem penned by Shpongle's Simon Posford. The track interpolates a minuscule section of Posford's original, mapping its brain-tickling squelches to the pipe organ and using the church's natural reverb to capture the vast majesty of the building. "I tried to construct a whole world on top of it," Denuc explains. The album's aquatic themes meanwhile make themselves visible on 'Atlantis', the first example of Denuc's most recent compositional breakthrough, when he realized that using extremely short note repetitions he could create a seemingly continuous drone that shimmered like the surface of water. Imagining a dazzling white church in the Balearics, Denuc pens a revisionist trance anthem on 'Everytime', enhancing the imagery that inspired the record and letting the core motif bounce around the church walls.
These core elements course through 'Club Imperiale', folding in on themselves and melting into each other. Using his own hand-built Max/MSP sequencer, Denuc flutters towards the sun on 'La Paloma', noting the similarities between baroque music and progressive trance. And on the title track, Denuc hits the album's dreamy emotional core, a space where the afterparty begins in earnest, heralding the blurry, mirage-like second half of the record, where natural delays and breathy emotional traces seem to dissolve the very fabric of time. Moving through the dramatic 'Plasters Figures' and the '90s music video atmosphere of 'Impreza', 'Club Imperiale' concludes with 'Pegasus', a long chord sequence that heads steadily downwards into contemplative reminiscence, never quite taking flight. Even the best parties come to an end eventually.
Named after a now-shuttered nightspot that overlooked the beach on Italy's picturesque Tuscan coast, Maxime Denuc's 'Club Imperiale' is a work of speculative historical fiction, a record that imagines a point of creative symbiosis between the Catholic church and the ecstatic dancefloors of the early '90s. Using a MIDI-controlled pipe organ, Denuc creates dense clouds of impossible-to-play notes that ricochet backwards and forwards through history, from Rome's reverberant cathedrals to the white, sandy beaches of the Balearic Islands. Not simply an album of trance and techno music performed on the organ, 'Club Imperiale' is a byzantine mass of references and lived experiences that considers the physical impact of sound, architecture and setting - and Denuc can trace its genesis to a single moment. Two years ago, the Brussels-based French composer was forwarded a surprising video by a Belgian fan. It was shot during a Wedding at a church in Menorca, where the organist was playing 'Infinite End', the lead track from 2022's 'Nachthorn'. Immediately, Denuc knew that this was the thematic backdrop he'd been waiting for; he imagined the aftermath of the event, wandering through small villages and teetering on a cliff's edge, finding a provincial nightclub and retracing his steps back to the beach to witness the sunrise.
This time around, Denuc was gifted the time and the access he needed to fully refine his concept. The technical side of the process had already been solved; after recording 'Nachthorn', he was now very confident with his system, able to control the pipe organ's keyboards, stops and pedals incredibly precisely using Max/MSP and OpenSoundControl, or OSC. And his relationship with the St. Antonius Church in Düsseldorf had deepened significantly. The cantor offered him a three or four days each month for a year to record the project and Denuc jumped at the chance. He moved into a small apartment nearby and spent every available hour behind the organ, working from 9AM until 5PM, stopping for mass and then returning for another long session, heading back to his studio on the off days to listen back to the recordings and plan fresh approaches. This allowed him to sculpt the experience meticulously, thinking about the history of sacred music and considering the real reasons that its compositions have lingered in the secular consciousness for so long. He wanted to concentrate on the visceral acoustic qualities of the church itself, so used a spatial multi-microphone setup to situate listeners between the concrete walls, fabricating an acoustic experience that's multi-dimensional and cinematic.
And the music itself also had to completely validate Denuc's themes. His compositions needed to feel like waves lapping at the shore, humid air rushing through aging pipes and hazy rave memories imprinting themselves on pliant brains. So on opening track 'Hallucinogen', Denuc reaches back to the mid-'90s directly, directly referencing 'LSD', an enduring psychedelic trance anthem penned by Shpongle's Simon Posford. The track interpolates a minuscule section of Posford's original, mapping its brain-tickling squelches to the pipe organ and using the church's natural reverb to capture the vast majesty of the building. "I tried to construct a whole world on top of it," Denuc explains. The album's aquatic themes meanwhile make themselves visible on 'Atlantis', the first example of Denuc's most recent compositional breakthrough, when he realized that using extremely short note repetitions he could create a seemingly continuous drone that shimmered like the surface of water. Imagining a dazzling white church in the Balearics, Denuc pens a revisionist trance anthem on 'Everytime', enhancing the imagery that inspired the record and letting the core motif bounce around the church walls.
These core elements course through 'Club Imperiale', folding in on themselves and melting into each other. Using his own hand-built Max/MSP sequencer, Denuc flutters towards the sun on 'La Paloma', noting the similarities between baroque music and progressive trance. And on the title track, Denuc hits the album's dreamy emotional core, a space where the afterparty begins in earnest, heralding the blurry, mirage-like second half of the record, where natural delays and breathy emotional traces seem to dissolve the very fabric of time. Moving through the dramatic 'Plasters Figures' and the '90s music video atmosphere of 'Impreza', 'Club Imperiale' concludes with 'Pegasus', a long chord sequence that heads steadily downwards into contemplative reminiscence, never quite taking flight. Even the best parties come to an end eventually.
Pugilist percussionists Valentina Magaletti (Moin, Holy Tongue) & João Pais Filipe (HHY & The Macumbas) aka CZN, switching between tumbling flight and collapse on a new EP for Orator. The first release on Orator appears to slice off half an hour of tape from an endless session oscillating between polymetric clatter and tonal pauses for breath, as roughly relating to the title; referencing a rotary electrical motor that periodically reverses the direction of drive. In the first half, ‘That’s Magic!’ they juxtapose a hell-for-leather discipline hinting at Central African and Haitian traditions, with a slower arc of harmonic overtones that temper the flow to a quiet stillness halfway, and at the end. That approach comes on more aggressive, almost like Cut Hands, on the first section of B-side ‘There’s a Clown In My History’, before inverting the pressure to a vaporous, pregnant tension that finally breaks to cantankerous crescendo.
Ricky V runs wild on Mohammad Reza Mortazavi’s Persian tombak hand drum actions, expanding a 4 min kernel of inspiration into 24 minutes of mesmerising polyrhythmic traction. From an original 'Swamp' piece that practically recalls Ricardo’s style of slinky minimal techno sorcery to begin with, the Chilean-German maverick derives a more driving tract of rough hewn rhythmic grit bound to hypnotise dancefloors for the duration. Accentuating the undulating bass and dialling up the volume whilst retaining the frictional grind of the original, Villalobos gets right inside the groove with typically obsessive tekkerz, plucking out additional string motifs and tempering the flow with signature, taut but sinuous, loosey goosey flex that cross-pollinates cultures and gets right under the skin of the thing. Mohammad Reza Mortazavi (b. 1979, Iran) is a virtuoso percussionist known for his groundbreaking work with the tombak and daf, traditional Persian drums that he has radically redefined through new playing techniques and extended vocabulary. Mortazavi began playing the tombak at the age of six. By nine, he had already outpaced his teacher and won Iran’s national tombak competition — a distinction he would earn six more times. By his early twenties, he was widely regarded as one of the foremost players of the instruments. Since then, his music has continued to evolve, embracing new forms and vocabularies beyond tradition. Ricardo Villalobos (b. 1970, Chile) is a pioneering figure in minimal techno, celebrated for his hypnotic approach to rhythm. Raised in Germany after his family fled Pinochet’s regime, Villalobos was drawn early to percussion — he began playing congas and bongos at eleven, developing a tactile relationship to rhythm that would later inform his distinctive production style. Immersed in both Latin American folk traditions and the emerging house and techno scenes of late-80s Europe, he began DJing and producing in the early 1990s, quickly achieving cult status within global club culture. Swamp originally appears on the album Nexus, released in 2025 via Latency.
Parisian label Latency presents "Without References / Cindy van Acker (Variations)", a new release by goat (JP) and legendary producer Ricardo Villalobos. For this project, Villalobos reinterprets two tracks – "Orin" and "Factory" – originally composed by goat (JP) for choreographer and performance artist Cindy van Acker’s dance piece "Without References". The release follows Latency’s recent publication of Villalobos’ variation on percussionist Mohammad Reza Mortazavi’s "Swamp" (Latency, 2025), continuing the label’s exploration of reinterpretation and rhythmic dialogue. goat (JP), led by Osaka-based composer Koshiro Hino (YPY, Kakuhan, Boredoms, Mark Fell), is widely regarded as a leading force in contemporary minimalist composition. In “Without References/Cindy Van Acker”, goat (JP) transforms non-tonal rhythmic patterns into intricate, hypnotic structures with remarkable depth. In this new version, the group’s simultaneously tribal and futuristic sound is reshaped by Villalobos’ distinctive production style, which draws from both minimalist techno and Latin American rhythmic traditions. Ricardo Villalobos is a pioneering figure in minimal techno, known for his hypnotic and deeply rhythmic approach to electronic music. Born in Chile and raised in Germany after his family fled Pinochet’s regime, Villalobos developed an early fascination with percussion, beginning to play congas and bongos at the age of eleven. This tactile engagement with rhythm continues to inform his production work today. Influenced by both Latin American folk traditions and the emerging house and techno scenes of late-1980s Europe, he began DJing and producing in the early 1990s and quickly gained cult status within global club culture. Cindy van Acker’s dance piece "Without References" features scenography by visionary choreographer Romeo Castellucci. The stage environment evokes a space that shifts between a waiting room, a train station hall, and a mid-century installation. Eleven dancers interpret Van Acker’s precise yet fluid movements, interacting with goat (JP)’s percussive, stripped-down compositions to create a visceral and immersive performance. The artwork features photographs by Magali Dougados from a staging of "Without References" at the Maison de la Culture de Seine-Saint-Denis.
A sonic journey through rhythm and abstraction by the cult Japanese post-rock ensemble goat (jp). Originally composed as the score for Cindy Van Acker’s eponymous dance piece ‘Without References,’ this release expands the group’s radical approach to rhythm and structure into the realm of contemporary performance. Hailing from Osaka and led by Koshiro Hino (YPY, Kakuhan, Boredoms, Mark Fell), goat (jp) has redefined minimalism by prioritizing pure percussive interplay over melody—using guitar, bass, drums, and percussion. Their intricate rhythmic architectures blur the line between mechanical precision and organic fluidity, using harmonics outside standard tonality, muted bass tones, and interlocking drum patterns. The result is a relentless, hypnotic sound—one that pulses like an urban ritual, at once tribal and futuristic. goat (jp) elevates rhythmic composition to an extreme, creating performances that immerse audiences in a trance-like state. Their sonic explorations push the boundaries of instrumental music, making their live shows both physically intense and meticulously controlled. Recognised as one of Japan’s most compelling avant-garde acts, goat (jp) transforms rhythm into pure architecture—an evolving structure of sound that unfolds with unwavering precision and power. goat (jp) recently supported Ryoji Ikeda for a series of major shows in Japan as part of the ‘Ultratronics Japan Tour,’ further reinforcing their prominent role in the contemporary experimental music scene. Recently, goat (jp) has performed at Liquidroom (Tokyo), Rewire Festival (The Hague), Institute of Contemporary Arts (London), Gnration (Braga), Centro de Artes Visuais (Coimbra), Galeria Zè Dos Bois (Lisbon), and Creative Center (Osaka). About Cindy Van Acker’s ‘Without References’ : A choreographic exploration of form, duration, and memory, Cindy Van Acker’s ‘Without References’ features scenography by visionary director Romeo Castellucci. The performance creates a space that oscillates between a waiting room, a train station hall, and a mid-century installation. Eleven dancers interpret Van Acker’s stark yet fluid physical language, interacting with goat (jp)’s percussive and purified compositions to create a visceral, immersive experience.
Two raw minimal cuts from '94 that will piece up any self respecting dance floor; Mika Vainio, Ilpo Väisänen & Sami Salo at the controls - an ESSENTIAL 12" from Sähkö Recordings, TIP!
2024 Repress. Essential stuff from Finnish legend, Mika Vaino ( Ø, Pan Sonic ++ + +).
One for the headphone amp / hi fi sound system crew.
Minimal & reduced nordic techno and electronics - Mika Vaino's second album from 1996 - only released on vinyl for the first time in 2019.
Simplicity floods itself in textured imperfection and anointed noise on the debut oracular folk guitar album released under the UK's 5 Gate Temple. A roughly recorded stack of improvisations on a classical-style guitar, God Spill embodies the broken, all while un-doing the expectations around traditional guitar folk. Mingot's fingerpicked tones meld with unsteady pedal loops and hissed drones rotating through flawed circuitry. A slow to becoming repair that is translucent, cryptic and oblique. Mingot's misty glitched landscape paints the polarity of both presence and disappearance, all cyclically mirroring the unseen. Honesty, discordance, impatience, and certainty all find home alongside blurred vocals. Since 2022, the EU-based, Queens NYC native has released music elusively as hardcore high priestess St Agnis and now swims waters of the acoustic - with soft rage and pursuit.
Written and produced by Mika Vainio in Turku in 1993
Muutaja is written and produced by Mika Vainio and Ilpo Väisänen