MUSIC

With roots in Sierra Leone and Guinea and now based in New York, experimental sound artist Lamin Fofana has released a string of acclaimed works on forward-thinking labels such as Hundebiss, Avian, Peak Oil, and The Trilogy Tapes. His latest and essential release arrives via Honest Jon’s. Forging sharp-edged treatments and molten sonics, the album resonates like liquid metal, constantly shifting form. Organized in pairs, the tracks collide between cutting blades and softened resonances, weaving in poetry, text, and field recordings to enact a relentless cycle of decomposition and recomposition. Inspired by the words of Suzanne Césaire, this is an otherworldly kosmische statement—an aural manifesto of transformation.

TTT catch Basic Rhythm in neurotic hardstep flow on four cuts of the tightest D&B following his killer mixtape in this mode OG pirate radio DJ for Rude FM in the ‘90s, and multifaceted producer since the 2010s; Anthoney J Hart is a true survivor of the hardcore ‘nuum. ‘The Bounce’ chases up his superb ’23 mixtape, ‘Straight From the Bedroom’ with a high calibre selection of cuts relating to that session, nailing a dead tuff seam of millennium-era pressure that variously plays deep into, and fucks with, its classic form. Living up to his mantle, Hart’s ascetic production values keep everything chiselled and rictus, but with nuff funk in its flex, tying D&B back to roots in the rigidity of OG electro and betraying its foundational links to earliest dark garage and grime. The title tune shadowboxes with clinically compressed snares in dank negative space, and ‘Tubby’ ups the neuro factor with shearing synths and grinding, granite-cut bass wobble. ‘Fists in Pocket’ is pure early ‘00s warehouse menace straight out of a Loxy or Dylan DJ set, and ‘Unworthy’ rudely distorts the structure with noisier, eye-wobbling compression fuckry.TTT catch Basic Rhythm in neurotic hardstep flow on four cuts of the tightest D&B following his killer mixtape in this mode OG pirate radio DJ for Rude FM in the ‘90s, and multifaceted producer since the 2010s; Anthoney J Hart is a true survivor of the hardcore ‘nuum. ‘The Bounce’ chases up his superb ’23 mixtape, ‘Straight From the Bedroom’ with a high calibre selection of cuts relating to that session, nailing a dead tuff seam of millennium-era pressure that variously plays deep into, and fucks with, its classic form. Living up to his mantle, Hart’s ascetic production values keep everything chiselled and rictus, but with nuff funk in its flex, tying D&B back to roots in the rigidity of OG electro and betraying its foundational links to earliest dark garage and grime. The title tune shadowboxes with clinically compressed snares in dank negative space, and ‘Tubby’ ups the neuro factor with shearing synths and grinding, granite-cut bass wobble. ‘Fists in Pocket’ is pure early ‘00s warehouse menace straight out of a Loxy or Dylan DJ set, and ‘Unworthy’ rudely distorts the structure with noisier, eye-wobbling compression fuckry.

The third drop into the Poorly Knit ocean, sees Bruce washed ashore with three silted and barnacled explorations into dub techno, ambient and beyond.

Seizing the microphone for the first time since his sophomore album Not Ready For Love, Bruce weaves a seductive siren song with Golden Water Queen, treading sweet nothings into the bubbling abyss. Sinking further into the deep, The Hand fizzes and froths at the fringes of nothingness, born from the wishing of a softer and more insidious soundtrack to Denis Villeneuve’s Dune. Then finally the waves are parted with DHam’s Jam, bobbing along 8 minutes of bouncing kick and prancing percussion, pulling you with peaceful buoyancy along the dancefloor, into “the zone.”

With a continued emphasis on the importance of physical medium within dance music, the 12” is pressed with eco-friendly “Eco-Mix” reground PVC and sleeved in DIY lino printed sleeves.

Poole’s new album Ben Beinn follows 2024’s In a River Shadow, further exploring an electronic folkway composed of environment and abstraction. If the previous record moved with flowing water and submerged folk song, Ben Beinn climbs into elemental instability: passing storms, coded skies, and sodden ground.

Across the album, Poole creates a phantasmic Celtic New Age sound world that’s marked by microtonal harmony, and swelling dissonance. Voices in Gaelic, Norwegian, and English surface and dissolve, stretched beyond recognition — more weather than word.

The ten song cycle opens with 1000, bagpipes and strings emerge from mountain icicles and frozen streams. Leaf is the centre point, the skittering squelches of moss, mud and grass, form a slippery rhythmic track. The album closes with 365 Days of Rain, a year’s rainfall data becoming a rhythmic lattice that slips from metrical order into converging motifs.

Recorded in Scotland between 2024–2025, Ben Beinn is a located listen, shaped by recordings of frozen hill passes, storms, and granite using contact mics and hydrophones. Rather than simply reflecting place, these recordings press against it — layering the sonic materiality of landscape with synthesis and song. An inflection point between fabrication — folk music as performed identity, a carrier of story — and its obfuscation through digital networks, where tradition is refracted into plural forms.

Reference points include the emotionally saturated textures of Inoyama Land and the folk-electronic hybrids of Eli Storbekken. There’s a tuning of biophony with the hyperrealist processes of Noah Creshevsky, owing as much to Galen Tipton’s adventures than the disquieting sonic simulations of James Ferraro.

Ben Beinn continues Poole’s excavation of environmental and folk material through contemporary methods. Shaped by the slow pressures of land and sky — a music of erosion, recurrence, and elemental presence.

A new longform commissioned work for any ensemble of four similar instruments. The definitive string quartet version of 'Long Gradus' is available as a 2LP and CD, and the collection of all four arrangements (strings, woodwinds, brass & organ, choir & electronics) is presented as the 'Long Gradus: Arrangements' 4CD set.

'Long Gradus' began in 2020 when Sarah Davachi was selected to participate in Quatuor Bozzini’s Composer’s Kitchen residency, which was to be a joint production with Gaudeamus Muziekweek in the Netherlands. With the postponement of the residency to the following year, the composer was given the opportunity to take a step back and look at the piece over a much longer period of time than would have ordinarily been possible. The resulting longform composition in four parts, written in its initial form for string quartet, was developed as an iteration of an ongoing preoccupation with chordal suspension and cadential structure. In this context, horizontal shifts in pitch material and texture occur on a very gradual scale, allowing the listener's perceptions to settle on the spatial experience of harmony. A system of septimal just intonation helps to further the production of a consonant acoustic environment. 'Long Gradus' uses a formalized articulation of time-bracket notation alongside unfixed indications of pitch, texture, and voicing that allow the players some discretion in determining the shape of the piece. A sense of pacing that is markedly different from that of mensural notation emerges accordingly, while the open structure of the composition results in each performance having a unique and unpredictable configuration.

The piece may be arranged in a quartet format for any instrumentation that can alter its intonation with some degree of accuracy or produce a natural seventh harmonic. Substitution of the string quartet with other instruments as desired or imagined, both acoustic and electronic, is entirely acceptable and indeed encouraged. To this end, Davachi has also offered the 'Long Gradus: Arrangements' 4CD set, which includes the string quartet version as well as arrangements for woodwinds, brass and organ, and choir and electronics. A 'gradus' is a sort of handbook meant to aid in learning a difficult practice; in this case, 'Long Gradus' is designed to considerably slow the cognitive movements of both listener and player, and to focus their attention on the relationships between moments. A rich harmonic landscape that is constantly shifting and which changes with each engagement is the listener’s return. For the player, 'Long Gradus' is an invitation to practice active listening and to immerse oneself in the stillness of psychoacoustic space and time.

Davachi comments: “I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Quatuor Bozzini for the opportunity to go through this process together, which is exceedingly uncommon in the context of chamber music. Typically, when writing for an ensemble or orchestra, the composer is given very few, if any, occasions to actually adjust their work in a meaningful way outside of perhaps one or two brief rehearsals of an essentially final score. It is extremely rare and an enormous luxury to begin with simple sketches or ideas and to actually construct a piece over a period of several months or more from a place of sonic assurance – that is, being able to listen and to explore and to continually fine tune in response to the sound itself, in conjunction with the performers. Part of the reason that my earliest compositional efforts arose within the domain of electroacoustic and acousmatic music is because of the control that it offered, to intuit sound in real time rather than through the indirect interpretation of future sound in the form of a score. Even now, when I compose work for chamber ensembles, I typically always start from a recorded version or from a demo – from the sound itself – and then work backwards to generate the score that will result in that music. It seems to be a vestige of conservatory thinking to view music performance, even in relation to new music, as a kind of reading of notes on the page that simply results in things just falling into place as expected. But, when the music goes beyond what’s on the page to include a dialogue with the acoustic space of the performance, and to require a certain patience and concentration on part of the performers, there needs to be a different approach; the Composer’s Kitchen residency offered that respect and curiosity.” 

Mark Fell’s Nite Closures EP marks his return to rhythm-focused electronic music after a decade of acoustic explorations. Released on his own label, National Centre for Mark Fell Studies, the 12" features intricate polyrhythms, dub-infused textures, and minimal techno structures. The EP builds on his Sensate Focus series, blending experimental precision with club-ready grooves. Tracks like “Nite Closures (Extended Dub)” and “Auchterhouse (Inversion)” showcase his signature rhythmic complexity. It’s a bold re-entry into dancefloor abstraction from one of electronic music’s most cerebral figures.

Recorded in a single day at Element Studio, Gothenburg, A Guidance unites Joachim Nordwall’s processed grand piano with Leif Elggren’s prepared texts, guided by producer Linus Andersson. The trio—two citizens of the Kingdoms of Elgaland-Vargaland—followed instinct rather than plan, channelling a volatile energy that sits somewhere between John Duncan, late Scott Walker, and Ghédalia Tazartès.

Across four pieces, Nordwall’s resonant, decaying piano tones and Elggren’s cracked, ritualistic voice conjure an atmosphere of creeping tension and psychic exposure. ‘Evil Moisture’ sets the scene with funereal space and operatic dread; ‘Opening of the Grave’ pushes intensity to breaking point; ‘To Return’ festers into uneasy stillness before collapsing in the closing ‘Forever in the Ever and Never’.

As Nordwall recalls, “Sometimes the music is just there, and you only have to let it flow.” A Guidance documents that rare moment of total surrender—where sound, text, and impulse converge into something raw, strange, and utterly possessed.

Includes bonus track not available on vinyl reissue

25th anniversary reissue of MERZBOW's legendary Tauromachine, now remastered by James Plotkin and featuring unreleased bonus material!

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’.

Japan’s KAKUHAN deliver a futureshock jolt on their incred debut album ‘Metal Zone’ - deploying drum machine syncopations around bowed cello and angular electronics that sound like the square root of Photek’s ‘Ni Ten Ichi Ryu’, Arthur Russell’s ‘World of Echo’, Beatrice Dillon’s ‘Workaround’ and Mica Levi’s ‘Under The Skin’ - or something like T++ and Errorsmith dissecting Laurie Anderson’s ‘Home Of The Brave’, her electric violin panned and bounced relentlessly around the stereo field. It really is that good - basically all the things we love, in multiples. While "Metal Zone" might be their debut, KAKUHAN are hardly newcomers. Koshiri Hino is a member of goat (jp), releasing a run of records under the YPY moniker, and heading up the NAKID label, while Yuki Nakagawa is a well known cellist and sound artist who has worked with Eli Keszler and Joe Talia among many others. Together, they make a sound that’s considerably more than the sum of its parts - as obsessively tweaked, cybernetic and jerky as Mark Fell, frothing with the same gritted, algorithmic intensity as Autechre's total-darkness sets, stripped to the bone and carved with ritualistic symbolism. The album’s most startling and unexpected moments come when KAKUHAN follow their 'nuum inclinations, snatching grimey bursts and staccato South London shakes and matching them with dissonant excoriations that shuttle the mind into a completely different place. It's not a collision we expected, but it's one that's completely melted us - welding obsessive rhythmic futurism onto bloodcurdling horror orchestration - the most appropriate soundtrack we can imagine for the contemporary era. By the album's final track, we're presented with South Asian microtonal blasts that suddenly make sense of the rest of the album; Nakagawa erupts into Arthur Russell-style clouded psychedelia, while wavering flutes guide bio-mechanical ritual musick formations. It’s the perfect closer for the album’s series of taut, viscous, and relentless gelling of meter and tone in sinuous tangles, weaving across East/West perceptions in spirals toward a distinctive conception of rhythmic euphoria with a sense of precision, dexterity and purpose that nods to classical court or chamber music as much as contemporary experimental digressions. Easily one of the most startling and deadly debuts we’ve heard in 2022; the louder we’ve played it, the more it’s realigned our perception of where experimental and club modes converge - meditative, jerky, flailing genius from the outerzone. Basically - an AOTY level Tip.

From the cutting-edge label Principe, which continues to innovate the dance music "Kuduro" originating from Angola in Lisbon, the capital of Portugal, comes a huge compilation of 37 unreleased tracks by its crew and related artists! A prayer of rhythm that connects the memory and future of Afro-diaspora. Sharp and flexible beats, irregularly swaying polyrhythms, vocal material and sound effects that cut through the void. While resonating with house and UK funky, the sound pursues the "groove of the black city" to the fullest, transforming from the back alleys at night into a street festival. It is the forefront of modern post-club music and a spiritual archive for the future.

Fred Frith is simultaneously a singular musical figure and a collection of musical lifetimes. He‘s the composer who wrote fragile avant-garde music in the tradition of John Cage and Earle Brown, the innovator who created new concepts of underground rock with his colleagues in the band Henry Cow, and the improviser who developed his very own language on the guitar. The many facets of Frith‘s musical oeuvre shimmer in vibrant and unique colors, but stand as one rainbow monolith of musical creation, never disintegrating into esoteric eclecticism. Always musically curious and unbiased, he develops his ideas in the moment, demonstrating in real time how his creative process, while free of old hat conventions and tricks, creates an immediate yet unrandom and committed music. At the core is his unique guitar playing, which is on full display across these two records. His debut, "Guitar Solos" (1974), opened up a space beyond rock and improvised music, and now, 50 years later comes "Fifty" (2024), a new solo guitar album that sounds completely different and yet familiar, that adds to his monolith of musical creation with another new vibrant color.

Dettinger’s Intershop and Oasis have long been held, by many fans of ambient and electronic music, to be some of the finest albums in their field. Produced by the mysterious Olaf Dettinger, about whom not much is publicly known, they were some of the earliest full-lengths released by the then-nascent Kompakt, and in many ways, they both articulated and defined the sound that would come to be known as Pop Ambient, while also existing, somehow, to the leftfield of any clearly recognisable genre. Beautiful, sui generis works, it is a rare pleasure to see them being reissued on vinyl for a new generation of listeners to embrace. Originally released on CD only in 1999, Intershop was Kompakt’s first artist full-length. The music here simmers and broods, with opulent banks of tone marking out territory for rhythms that seem to be built from the clacking detritus of technology – hisses, thunks, knocks. Bass is deployed carefully, each drop a dubbed-out depth charge; drones spin and spiral, warping and weaving between the beats. Oasis, released in 2000, refined the palette that Dettinger had explored on its predecessor. A blurred crusade of ambient texturology, its unassuming patterns, and subtle, incremental dynamics, admit to real beauty, and a kind of abstract sensuality that you don’t often experience with music that is, perhaps, similarly tooled, but not as poetic. Through seemingly simple gestures – whether lushly expansive repetitions, hyper-acute tremolo tones, or ear-tickling rhythms – it builds complex emotional resonance. It’s no surprise to discover Oasis is held in high esteem by artists like Panda Bear of Animal Collective, who once said of Dettinger, “For us, he was the dude.” There is, of course, other music to know Dettinger by, too – his three excellent EPs for Kompakt, Blond (1998), Puma and Totentanz (1999), the latter of which, Michael Mayer once argued, “invented dubstep.” There is also a small, yet graceful run of compilation contributions, many of which can be found on Kompakt’s Total and Pop Ambient series. All this music has plenty to recommend it, sharing a clarity of purpose, and a rare, human warmth and depth. But Intershop and Oasis are the releases that distil Dettinger’s singular vision, and allow him, should he wish, to claim his place as a modern master of ambient and electronic music.

OKTEMBER is the second EP release under Wolfgang Voigt’s mythical GAS project (it follows "Modern“ on Profan, 1995). The 2 compositions were originally released in 1999 on Mille Plateaux, and then reissued partially in 2016 on GAS “BOX”. OKTEMBER is finally released on Voigt's own label KOMPAKT, pressed on 180 gram vinyl in its original artwork.

This reissue features “Tal ‘90“ (instead of the original A side) – a predecessor to the GAS project originally recorded in 1990 under the alias TAL, it was released as a part of the Pop Ambient 2002 collection. With its sampled strings, horns and guitars, "Tal 90” soundtracks a more uplifting side to what is typically accustomed to being the sound of GAS. The title track “Oktember” is a dense, hypnotic affair that conjures a unique vision of dub techno that few have been able to replicate.

A monumental soundtrack to uncertain times.

Visionary electroacoustic explorations return as Black Truffle reissues Kassel Jaeger's Fernweh, a major work fusing musique concrète and synthesis into emotionally charged sonic landscapes of rare intensity.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce a new edition of Kassel Jaeger's Fernweh, returning François J. Bonnet's electroacoustic project to the label five years after the acclaimed Meith (BT069). Originally released on Giuseppe Ielasi and Jennifer Veillerobe's impeccably curated Senufo Editions in 2012, Fernweh stands near the beginning of the gradual expansion of Bonnet's approach after the austere acoustic textures of Aerae and Algae (both released on Senufo), leading to the lush, layered environments of recent solo works on Shelter Press and the epic electronic expeditions undertaken in duo projects with Stephen O'Malley and Jim O'Rourke.

A major work in the Kassel Jaeger oeuvre, stretching over two LP sides, Fernweh draws together synthesized and musique concrète materials into a drifting assemblage. Its title's meaning is close to the concept of 'Wanderlust', fitting for this music that moves freely and unexpectedly between what Bonnet calls 'climates'. Beginning with fizzing electronics whose rhythm of gradual approach suggests breaking waves, the clinical atmosphere is soon haunted by intangible traces of lived reality. Textures call up wind, water, insects, the crunch of feet on sand or the clinking of glasses, yet they can never be identified with any certainty. At times these concrete elements possess a vivid 'closeness'; at others, the sounds shade into a formless distance. Though the listener forms no clear picture from the concrete sounds, these elements aerate the music, lending it their space. Drawing from the rigorous formal language and conceptual apparatus of the French musique concrète tradition—with which Bonnet, as director of the INA GRM and researcher into its deepest archival recesses, is intimately familiar—the music of Kassel Jaeger is equally informed by how underground experimental music has rethought electroacoustic techniques, with Fernweh at times calling up the grit and grime of para-industrial eccentrics like Maurizio Bianchi or the Toniutti brothers, and at other moments suggesting the slow-moving grandeur of early Olivia Block.

Subtle features of dynamics and rhythm act as connective tissue between the numerous 'scenes', with wave-like envelopes, rapid pulsations, and short, tape-loop patterns all recurring throughout the piece, shared ambiguously between electronic and concrete sounds. Amid these shifting, often inharmonic textures, the electronic elements sometimes cohere into melodic shapes and chordal patterns, cutting through the fog in distorted arcs or underpinning the layered surface with slow-moving harmonies.

Like his friend and collaborator Jim O'Rourke, Bonnet displays a radical openness at odds with academic tradition, allowing unabashed emotion to coexist with rigorous experimentation. As Fernweh dies away with mysterious shudders, listeners are left at once moved and unsure of exactly what they just heard.

Octogenarian experimental legend Annea Lockwood returns to Black Truffle with more paradigm-shifting new material, playing Belfast's "peace lines" with sticks, stones and leaves to soundtrack 'History of the Present' and examining Vanessa Tomlinson's relationship with the bass drum on 'Skin Resonance'.

There's nobody else doing it quite like Lockwood, that's for certain. At 85-years-old, the New Zealand-born composer is still producing vital, radical experimental art; Black Truffle might have started their relationship with Lockwood by reminding all of us how genius her 1970 tape piece 'Tiger Balm' is, but 2022's 'Becoming Air / Into the Vanishing Point' brought us right up to the present day, spotlighting her recent collaborations with Nate Wooley and Yarn/Wire. This latest double-header goes even further into her contemporary canon; opening side 'On Fractured Ground' is extracted from Maria Fusco and Margaret Salmon's 2023-released feminist opera-film 'History of the Present', an experimental work set in Northern Ireland that amplifies working-class women's voices. Lockwood, working alongside Dr. Georgios Varoutsos and Professor Pedro Rebelo, two academics who developed a binaural "soundwalk" along Belfast's Peace Wall, approaches the Troubles with refreshing clarity. Taking a radical perspective in terms of representation, she imagines the walls, built around Northern Ireland since the late '60s to divide Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods, as resonant instruments, playing them with her hands and found objects to emphasize the disruption of these barriers, not the space itself.

Lockwood, Rebelo and Varoutsos spent time tracking around Belfast and recording in-situ, but not making field recordings as such. It sets our mind back to Brötzmann and Bennink's iconic 'Schwarzwaldfahrt' album, in fact, where they decamped to Germany's Black Forest and recorded their natural free improvisations in the open air. Here, the trio take a similar approach to their landscape, representing the awkward topography of the region with sonorous, gong-like clangs, Limpe Fuchs-esque rolling resonances and extended micro-percussive asides.

On the flip, Lockwood teams up with Aussie composer/percussionist Tomlinson to represent a relationship between musician and instrument that's surprisingly difficult to put into words. The piece materialised after the duo discussed the concept of "sonic attraction", and is made from supple, unusual drum improvisations - the kind of rubbery, mutant resonances that are eccentric enough to fully command your attention - and poetic, confessional reflections from Tomlinson herself. "What do I absorb? What do I reflect?" she asks. "I start to think about my skin as an ear, so maybe the bass drum skin is an ear as well." Lockwood focuses her own ear on Tomlinson's ability to transmogrify the instrument's aesthetics, stripping away all conventional understanding of the bass drum and letting its component parts sing, rattle and hum.

Super Tip! Kali Malone and Drew McDowall have orbited each other's work for over a decade, their individual explorations of sustained tones and harmonic space suggesting an inevitable collaboration. When they finally entered McDowall's Brooklyn studio together, what emerged on Magnetism transcends mere musical compatibility. Malone has spent recent years extending the legacy of Éliane Radigue, redefining what electronic minimalism can accomplish through pipe organ and synthesizer. Her compositions stretch single chords into cathedral-sized architectures of sound, tracing harmonic territories that Radigue first mapped in her pioneering electronic works. McDowall brings a different lineage: as a veteran of Coil, he approaches synthesis with the patience of an alchemist, crafting electronic textures that breathe with unsettling life. Magnetism resolves this apparent contradiction through sonic diplomacy. Malone's melodic sensibilities—those long, searching lines that seem to trace the curvature of space itself—find new expression through McDowall's textural arsenal. Where Malone typically builds with mathematical precision inherited from the Radigue tradition, McDowall introduces the controlled chaos he perfected with Coil: digital distortion that pulses like organic matter, synthesis algorithms that decay at the speed of memory. The album's foundation reveals their shared fascination with the spaces between notes. Karplus-Strong synthesis becomes their primary tool, combined with just intonation tuning systems that allow Magnetism to inhabit frequencies conventional instruments cannot reach. But technique serves expression here, not the reverse. Across four extended movements, repetition becomes meditation, saturation a means of transcendence. There's something ritualistic about how these pieces unfold, their harmonic cycles suggesting ancient ceremonies filtered through electronic consciousness. This is music that operates on geological time while pulsing with digital immediacy. The collaboration marks significant evolution for both artists. Malone embraces the productive friction of working with another creative mind, while McDowall discovers in her melodic clarity a redemptive light reminiscent of Coil's more transcendent moments. Together, they've created something that feels both ancient and urgently contemporary—proof that experimental music's most profound statements emerge when distinct artistic visions recognize themselves in each other.

Psychic 9-5 Club marks the beginning of a new chapter for HTRK. It's an album that looks back on a time of sadness and struggle, and within that struggle they find hope and humour and love. It's Jonnine Standish and Nigel Yang's first album recorded entirely as a duo—former band member Sean Stewart died halfway through the recording of their last LP, 2011's Work (Work, work).

Though the record is instantly recognisable as HTRK—Standish's vocal delivery remains central to the band's sound, while the productions are typically lean and dubby—they've found ample room for exploration within this framework. Gone are the reverb-soaked guitar explorations of 2009's Marry Me Tonight and the fuzzy growls that ran through Work (Work Work). They've been replaced with something tender, velvety and polished. This is HTRK, but the flesh has been stripped from their sound, throwing the focus on naked arrangements and minimalist sound design.

The album was recorded at Blazer Sound Studios in New Mexico with Excepter's Nathan Corbin, who had previously directed the video clip for Work (Work Work) cut "Bendin." Inviting a third party into their world was no easy decision, but in Corbin they found a kindred spirit. The LP was then refined and reworked in Australia at the turn of 2013, before the finishing touches were applied in New York during the summer. Psychic 9-5 Club was then mastered by Rashad Becker at Dubplates and Mastering in Berlin.

Of all the themes that run through Psychic 9-5 Club, love is the most central. The word is laced throughout the album in lyrics and titles—love as a distraction, loving yourself, loving others. Standish's lyrics explore the complexities of sexuality and the body's reaction to personal loss, though there's room for wry humour—a constant through much of the best experimental Australian music of the past few decades.

Standish explores her vocal range fully—her husky spoken-word drawl remains, but we also hear her laugh and sing. Equally, Yang's exploratory production techniques—particularly his well-documented love of dub—are given room to shine. They dip headlong into some of the things that make humans tick—love, loss and desire—with the kind of integrity that has marked the band out from day one. Psychic 9-5 Club is truly an album for the body and for the soul.

Heith is the alias of Milan-based artist and musician Daniele Guerrini who crafts a mesmerising and ritualistic subterranean soundscape, a resonant and eclectic collage of distinct sonic elements: from celestial percussion intertwined with jarring, mechanical oscillations to haunting vocals atop murky dubbed-out beats.Exploring the textures of consciousness through research into the ritual animism, he kept an omnivorous and universalist approach to cultural and sonic influence. This is central to X, wheel, Heith’s debut album and first release on PAN. It’s a deep dive into his creative and spiritual practice, one where art and life are inextricable. The Liars Tell..., on the other hand, feels like a kind of respite, a moment of meditation and pause from the fatigue of dimension-hopping. As if the traveller dismounted their carriage and, standing puzzled on a crossroad, listened to the echoes of distant places. Occupying a liminal space and letting thousand of contradictory tales form the lyrics to one unfathomable song.

Uganda's famous Nyege Nyege Tapes festival, and in 2020 at the legendary nightclub Berghain in Berlin with avant-garde acts Gabber Modus Operandi and Harsya Wahono from Jakarta. The self-titled debut album of Nakibembe Embaire Group, who appeared on the album, is now available. Nakibembe is a small village in Uganda's Busoga Kingdom (one of four existing constitutional monarchies). Since ancient times, locals have set aside communal spaces for musical performances and social events. In its center was a deep hole, crossed by a groove to amplify a gigantic xylophone "enver" consisting of 15-25 wooden keys. While log xylophones are common in East Africa, the music played by the Basoga, an ethnic Bantu tribe in the east, is extremely special and unique, with its own tuning, dance, and auxiliary instruments. They are said to be the last group where up to eight players can play simultaneously around the enver, layering hypnotic polyrhythms while the ensemble members play vocals, shakers and drums. Its trance-like sound, fused with meandering polyrhythms and dazzling vocals, makes the past, present, and future seem to align.

The latest by iconic slowburn Australian duo HTRK is an elegant nine song suite of windswept emotion and heartbreak noir, crafted in skeletal arrangements of guitar, voice, metronomes, and FX. Inspired by a recent infatuation with “eerie and gothic country music,” Rhinestones moves from whispered lament to acoustic eulogy to downtempo vignettes, tracing muted embers of loss and lust through haunted city streets. Taking cues from the economy and brevity of western folk but skewed through a narcotic, nocturnal lens, the album maps enigmatic badlands of strung out beauty and lengthening shadows.

Nigel Yang cites friendship as a central muse, “particularly the forging of it, and its potential for new feelings of telepathy and trust.” Jonnine Standish’s wounded, alluring vocals echo similar mysteries of connection and unknown crossroads, poetic but direct, dream diaries faded with age and rain. The rhinestones of the title evoke the glittering plastic of cowboy glamor, yet “made precious somehow;” Standish cites as an example a baby blue star brooch from Texas, gifted to her “from a stoned friend on New Year’s Eve 10 years ago in Brighton – cheap keepsakes can be more valuable than diamonds.”

Even for a group as enduringly versatile as HTRK, Rhinestones is a revelation, condensing their lyrical alchemy to its simmering, magnetic essence. “Sunlight Feels Like Bee Stings,” “Reverse Déjà vu,” and “Gilbert and George” in particular are masterpieces of drama, delivery, and distillation, dried flowers clouded by smoke, the candle’s flame flickering but unforgotten: “Some things are not like the others / Some friends are not like the others / did I ever say / did I ever say / did I ever say thank you?” 

Instrumental four-piece Yuuf return with a new EP ‘Mt. Sava’, out on Ninja Tune imprint Technicolour. The release follows their earlier 2025 EP ‘Alma’s Cove’, a six-track journey through natural soundscapes and quiet introspection.

Described by the band as the “spiritual sister to ‘Alma’s Cove’”, ‘Mt. Sava’ shifts the setting from lush coastal tranquility to the awe-inspiring scale of mountainous desert terrain - one that “lets the listener both explore the serenity of a night sky filled with stars far removed from human life and the brutality and fierceness of life in the desert” the band comment. “The name Mt. Sava comes from the place where we shot a Live Session of the full EP. It’s a breath-taking and canyon-like gorge that is often referred to as St. Sava Canyon”.

'Transplant Rejection’ is the second in a trilogy of cassette albums released via Muscut in the latter half of 2022. The work of Estonian artist and IDA Radio co-founder Robert Nikolajev, this collection of seven ‘almost’ dark ambient tracks embody the melancholy of autumn whilst hinting at the forthcoming eternal winter. A man with many hats, Nikolajev operates on the fringes of the leftfield house underground for labels such as Incienso, Collect-Call and Sad Fun as well as being one half of the sporadic DIMA DISK act with Ragnar Rahouja. Eschewing the more rhythmic side of his productions for this Muscut tape, Nikolajev taps into the fictional soundtrack atmospheres the label is known for and brings his own brand of wistful, introspective world-building by way of machine harmony to the now Tallinn based imprint.

There’s a lo-fi, grainy quality running throughout the collection, a kind of sepia-toned nostalgia that envelops the listener and disorientates any perception of time or place. Buried vocal fragments sit in the mix on ‘Stifled’ alongside decaying synthesiser drones whilst ‘DDM’ channels an edgy post-rock dirge with its use of sagged bass guitar. Overall, an inspired look into the more ‘at home’ side of this increasingly prolific Estonian artist.

For the inaugural release on Quadrant Park, SDEM delivers a live recording with a twist: this set was recorded in early 2024 in a single take to an audience of one, at a now abandoned empty club space beneath a railway arch in Leeds.

Following a series of physical and digital releases culminating with Vortices in 2023, SDEM has focused on continuous upgrades to a mutating live set, sporadically performed, for example, alongside the Autechre and Gescom axes. In the phase documented here, the set draws deeply from turntable-era early hip hop and 80s drum machine architecture, resulting in a landscape of tactile slippage: rhythms gripping and releasing, gestural scrubs and stabs, scratching meets musique concrète. Interlocking parts snap in and out of alignment, before recombining on the fly – kinetic, raw, and precise.

The SDEM approach is marked by Tom Knapp’s sculptural take on sound design, rhythm and texture – ranging from dystopic ambient passages to pixelated, sub-heavy beats. A member of the Skam circle of atavistic beat freaks since the late 90s, Knapp’s sound is that of hyperattentive electronica buried under soil and left to decay (or ferment). What emerges is somehow both ruthlessly futuristic and redolent of decrepit antique engineering.

At Quadrant Park is presented in an edition of 500 compact discs with artwork by Robert Beatty unique to every individual copy. In a warped reflection of the recording circumstances, each copy forms one distinct frame of a short film never to be viewed in its totality.

Liner notes are provided by the sole witness to the recording, long-standing SDEM co-conspirator Ed Martin, aka edv3ctor, while audio was mastered by the ears that matter, frozen reeds mainstay Jim O’Rourke.