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Jo Johnson (erstwhile member of ‘90s riot grrrl legends Huggy Bear) launches her Silver Threads imprint with a double album of bittersweet transmissions of ribboning arps and iridescent greyscale atmospheres conjuring comparisons to Barker, the pastoral kosmiche ends of Border Community or Craven Faults.
"This double album is the inaugural release on Jo Johnson’s Silver Threads label and compiles her ‘slow album’ – work created and shared (in a limited way) in real time from January until June, in response to “bleak and often distressing times”. Alongside each of the five album tracks compiled on CD 1, Jo created Remnants, reworks and original tracks from “discarded audio and coincidental field recordings” that were shared exclusively with her Bandcamp subscribers and these seven tracks are compiled on the second CD.
Alterations Volume One was album of the week in Moonbuilding. In Futurism Restated, Philip Sherburne said it was, “A coherent and enveloping piece of work in which melodic motifs unfold against an ever-changing landscape of pads, drones, and arpeggios. It moves like a slow, broad river throwing off sparks at sunrise.” Electronic Sound said it was “spellbinding” and “never less than mesmerising” in the October issue and will feature an interview with Jo in the December 2025 issue. Surgeon said, “Beautiful restraint and Galactic emotions.” He called the final track, Unpicking, a “masterpiece”."

Living in the present is an album built around the work of American minimalist poet, Robert Lax (1915-2000) who is widely praised for his artistic concept of reduction, in which a pause becomes as important as the things said.
The album brings together the sound of Robert Lax reading his poetry, narrative field recordings by Nicolas Humbert and subtle yet imaginative timbres by Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet) and Miki Yui (electronics) who is also behind the final mixing of the album.
Living in the present is drawing from an archive of audio recordings originally made by film maker Nicolas Humbert while shooting a film on Robert Lax entitled Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, ( Nicolas Humbert and Werner Penzel, Germany, 1999) The film was made on the Greek island of Patmos where Lax has lived withdrawn for 3 decades.
More than 25 years after the premiere of Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, Humbert, Khorkhordina and Yui are revisiting the original audio material and patiently open worlds within worlds, pointing to new harmonic textures and isolating timbres, synchronizing different layers of time and traces of various locations into a new composition in its own right.
In some ways this album feels like an expansion of the work Humbert and Penzel did with Lax across six years, between 1993 and 1999, where they developed a unique intimacy in their textual-visual collaboration. On two long pieces, for each side of the album, “Where do i begin” and “One moment passes, another comes on” respectively – Yui’s electronics and Khorkhordina’s trumpet interweave beautifully with Humbert’s field recordings, in a manner that shadows the reflective reduction of Lax’s poetry. Indeed, it's no surprise that Lax’s poetry draws musicians into its orbit; it offers the curious a welcoming reduction in which only individual words and syllables represent the essence of language.
Lax’s poetry is notable for its qualities of near-stillness and its capacity to pause the reader’s thought, asking them to hold the sensuality of language for an extended, quietly revelatory moment. His readings on this album share a similar cadence, interested in settling with syllables, with single or several words, for an extended time.
Ultimately, Living in the present unfolds with unforced grace and poetics – one moment passes, then another comes on. (Jon Dale)

In the final month of 2024, Meitei arrived in Beppu, a city long steeped in vapor, myth, and mineral memory. Invited to create onsen ambient music commemorating Beppu’s 100th anniversary, he immersed himself in the city’s geothermal psychogeography, where sound rises from the ground and time clings to mist.
Known for his Lost Japan (Shitsu-nihon) works, which channel forgotten eras into flickering auditory relics, Meitei took residence in the warehouse of Yamada Bessou, a century-old inn perched by the bay. Over two weeks, he listened intently to steam, to stone, to the atmosphere itself. The resulting work, Sen’nyū, traces the inner spirit of onsen culture. Like water finding its path, the music emerged with quiet inevitability, shaped by Meitei’s synesthetic sensibility and deep attunement to place.
Equipped with a microphone, he wandered Beppu’s sacred sites: Takegawara Onsen, Bouzu Jigoku, Hebin-yu, and the private baths of Yamada Bessou. There, he captured the breath of the springs, bubbling mud, hissing vents, wind against bamboo, and the murmurs of daily visitors. These field recordings became the sonic bedrock of Sen’nyū, an act of deep listening that attempts to render even the rising mist and shifting heat into sound.
Unfolding as a single, continuous piece, Sen’nyū drifts like fog through sulfur and stone. It traverses the veiled madness of Bouzu Jigoku, the spectral resonance of Yamada Bessou’s inner bath, and the hushed voices of Takegawara Onsen. It is a gesture of quiet reverence, for water’s patience, the land’s memory, and the hands that have bathed here for generations.
Where Meitei’s earlier works conveyed his personal impression of a fading Japan, Sen’nyū is grounded in tactile presence, music not imagined but encountered. Here, his practice moves closer to the spirit of kankyō ongaku, environmental music born from place, shaped by it, and inseparable from it.
As part of the project, Meitei conceived a two-day public sound installation inside Takegawara Onsen, culminating in a live performance. Bathers soaked in mineral-rich waters while submerged in sound, an embodied ritual of place, body, and listening.
Sen’nyū marks Meitei’s first full-length work centered entirely on onsen and opens a new chapter of his Lost Japan project under the expanded title 失日本百景 (One Hundred Lost Views of Japan), a series exploring extant sites of longing still quietly breathing within contemporary life. The album will be accompanied by Meitei’s first photo book, a visual document of his time in Beppu. A new layer is added to the world he has, until now, built only through sound.
Sen’nyū continues Meitei’s devotion to Japan as subject, while opening new terrain: both ritual and remembrance, an immersion into the mineral soul of Beppu.

An Obscure Sound Documentary from Sado Island — A Compilation Capturing the Present Through 10 Artists Living Within Its Environment
Sado Island, located in the Sea of Japan, is a place where ancient traditions continue to thrive amidst rich natural landscapes. Noh stages still remain across local villages, and practices such as Noh theater and Ondeko drumming are woven into the daily lives of its residents. Surrounded by sea and mountains, the island offers a unique cultural and environmental context for contemporary creativity to emerge. This compilation album, produced in 2025, serves as a sonic documentary capturing the music and people of Sado as they exist today. While rooted in the island’s deep cultural heritage, the album also presents a fresh wave of expression and imagination, offering new perspectives shaped by place, tradition, and personal vision. The album features ten creative units, each contributing original works that reflect the atmosphere and rhythms of life on the island. Included are solo pieces by Yuta Sumiyoshi and Masayasu Maeda, both key members of Kodo—the internationally acclaimed taiko performing arts ensemble known for transcending tradition through innovation. Sadrum brings a raw, organic groove through the use of handmade bamboo drums, crafted from moso bamboo that grows naturally on Sado. Composer Nozomu Sato presents his project Plantar, which showcases a wide-ranging musical language from pop to the avant-garde. Gilles Stassart, a chef and artist who runs the Sado-based restaurant La Pagode, explores the fusion of gastronomy and art in his contribution. Charles Munka, a comtemporary artist recognized for turning scribbled notes from around the world into abstract artworks, offers an ambient mix inspired by the spirit of Noh. Contemporary artist Morito Yoshida, a central figure in the Sado Island Galaxy Art Festival, contributes a piece reflecting his pioneering vision across art and community. Kota Aoki, known for his experimental paintings and sound works, adds a composition grounded in a personal and deeply aesthetic approach. Miyuki Fukunishi, active in music since the 1990s, explores new possibilities in composition through laptop-based production techniques. The album also features The Fugu Plan?, a collaborative unit led by ukulele player Yuka and bassist Shanir Ezra Blumenkranz, whose work is widely recognized through his association with John Zorn’s Tzadik label. Their piece brings a cross-cultural resonance that connects Sado to a broader global soundscape. Beyond the music, the project is also deeply rooted in the island. The album cover features NAMI (“wave”), a photograph by Syoin Kajii—a Sado-based photographer and Buddhist monk—capturing the living rhythm of the sea. The liner notes are written by Noi Sawaragi, an influential art critic and advisor to the Sado Island Galaxy Art Festival, adding critical depth to the project’s cultural context. A work that captures the very essence of Sado’s present—every element of the album has been created by individuals uniquely connected to the island.

In the final month of 2024, Meitei arrived in Beppu, a city long steeped in vapor, myth, and mineral memory. Invited to create onsen ambient music commemorating Beppu’s 100th anniversary, he immersed himself in the city’s geothermal psychogeography, where sound rises from the ground and time clings to mist.
Known for his Lost Japan (Shitsu-nihon) works, which channel forgotten eras into flickering auditory relics, Meitei took residence in the warehouse of Yamada Bessou, a century-old inn perched by the bay. Over two weeks, he listened intently to steam, to stone, to the atmosphere itself. The resulting work, Sen’nyū, traces the inner spirit of onsen culture. Like water finding its path, the music emerged with quiet inevitability, shaped by Meitei’s synesthetic sensibility and deep attunement to place.
Equipped with a microphone, he wandered Beppu’s sacred sites: Takegawara Onsen, Bouzu Jigoku, Hebin-yu, and the private baths of Yamada Bessou. There, he captured the breath of the springs, bubbling mud, hissing vents, wind against bamboo, and the murmurs of daily visitors. These field recordings became the sonic bedrock of Sen’nyū, an act of deep listening that attempts to render even the rising mist and shifting heat into sound.
Unfolding as a single, continuous piece, Sen’nyū drifts like fog through sulfur and stone. It traverses the veiled madness of Bouzu Jigoku, the spectral resonance of Yamada Bessou’s inner bath, and the hushed voices of Takegawara Onsen. It is a gesture of quiet reverence, for water’s patience, the land’s memory, and the hands that have bathed here for generations.
Where Meitei’s earlier works conveyed his personal impression of a fading Japan, Sen’nyū is grounded in tactile presence, music not imagined but encountered. Here, his practice moves closer to the spirit of kankyō ongaku, environmental music born from place, shaped by it, and inseparable from it.
As part of the project, Meitei conceived a two-day public sound installation inside Takegawara Onsen, culminating in a live performance. Bathers soaked in mineral-rich waters while submerged in sound, an embodied ritual of place, body, and listening.
Sen’nyū marks Meitei’s first full-length work centered entirely on onsen and opens a new chapter of his Lost Japan project under the expanded title 失日本百景 (One Hundred Lost Views of Japan), a series exploring extant sites of longing still quietly breathing within contemporary life. The album will be accompanied by Meitei’s first photo book, a visual document of his time in Beppu. A new layer is added to the world he has, until now, built only through sound.
Sen’nyū continues Meitei’s devotion to Japan as subject, while opening new terrain: both ritual and remembrance, an immersion into the mineral soul of Beppu.

Mount Athos, known as the «Holy Mountain,» is a monastic peninsula in northeastern Greece, central to Eastern Orthodox monasticism for over a millennium. Its twenty monasteries house around 2,000 monks dedicated to prayer and worship, which songs have echoed across the Aegean Sea for centuries, heard only by visiting pilgrims, isolated from conventional time and global events. After several years of research, and several visits to the retired community, we are happy to present our new project «Athos : Echoes from the Holy Mountain» dedicated to this liturgic music and repertoire that seems to be evolving outside the usual boundaries of time and space. Rooted in Byzantine chant, this a cappella tradition essential to monastic life featuring intricate yet serene melodies designed to facilitate prayer and contemplation, using a system of modes and scales to create a meditative atmosphere.
Trans-disciplinary, this effort of documentation also comprehends an artistic re-interpretation aspect inviting contemporary Greek and foreign artists to reflect on the subject. A musical compilation which captures original field recordings from the 1960s and from today capturing the essence of liturgical music on Mount Athos, but also new compositions inspired by them by artists such as Holy Tongue (UK), Jay Glass Dubs (GR), Prins Emanuel & Inre Kresten Grupp (SWE), Jimi Tenor (FI), Gilb’r (FR), Daniel Paleodimos (GR), Esma & Murat Ertel (TUR) and Organza Ray (GR/US).
A trilingual book in English, Greek and French, featuring essays, articles, photographs and artistic comissions reflecting around the theme giving a voice to contributors such as , Stratos Kalafatis, Theodore Psychoyos, Tefra90, Father Damaskinos Ulkinuora, Prof. Thomas Apostolopoulos, Makar Tereshin, Phaedra Douzina-Bakalaki, Michelangelo Paganopoulos and Alberto Cameroni. The release of the book and the record will be followed by a cycle of exhibitions and conferences, deploying FLEE’s year-long research on Mount Athos, as well as its numerous commissioned artworks.

This record brings together four original works commissioned for the exhibition Afrosonica – Soundscapes, presented at the MEG (Museum of Ethnography in Geneva) in 2025. Blending sound art with reflections on the democratization of museum collections, this recording project explores connections: between past and present, between archives and living practices, between sonic materials, collective imaginaries, and diasporic trajectories.
The artists — KMRU, Midori Takada, Yara Mekawei, and Ntshepe Tsekere Bopape (Mo Laudi) — reactivate objects, voices, and gestures. Through listening to their creations, they weave links between buried memories and contemporary realities, between spiritualities, struggles, identity reinventions, and the poetry of sound.

This record brings together four original works commissioned for the exhibition Afrosonica – Soundscapes, presented at the MEG (Museum of Ethnography in Geneva) in 2025. Blending sound art with reflections on the democratization of museum collections, this recording project explores connections: between past and present, between archives and living practices, between sonic materials, collective imaginaries, and diasporic trajectories.
The artists — KMRU, Midori Takada, Yara Mekawei, and Ntshepe Tsekere Bopape (Mo Laudi) — reactivate objects, voices, and gestures. Through listening to their creations, they weave links between buried memories and contemporary realities, between spiritualities, struggles, identity reinventions, and the poetry of sound.

Yara Asmar’s new album, “everyone I love is sleeping and I love them so so much”, presents 11 pieces recorded over the past year between the small town of Alfred in upstate New York and Beirut. These sometimes fragile and tentative sound sketches reflect the times as Yara steps out, as if onto ice, into a new life on a new continent. She works with unfamiliar instruments, new materials and new sounds to build on her intimate style; homemade mechanical music boxes and a personal archive of family recordings form the backbone of its delicate textures. Asmar explores the peculiar resonance of the metallophone and her collection of deconstructed toy pianos, and guides her music into ever more surreal territories. The result is a work that is dreamlike, fragmentary and strangely timeless.

In 1973, the Sound Sculpture Show took place at the Vancouver Art Gallery. An LP audio catalogue (with a booklet) of the exhibition, entitled “The Sounds of Sound Sculpture”, was released in 1975 under the supervision of the Canadian sound sculptor John Grayson and US composer David Rosenboom. Grayson had edited an important early book on the field, “Sound Sculpture”. The LP included rare takes of Rosenboom and Grayson, amongst others, playing famous pieces by pioneering sound sculptors including the Baschet brothers and Harry Bertoia, the latter best known for his Sonambient series. It also included some of the few recordings by Stephan Von Huene, who had begun to create his kinetic sculptures, and the profound atmospheric pressure systems constructed by the New York sound artist David Jacobs. The LP comes complete with a booklet of visually arresting photos and other materials about these historic sound sculptures.

Sound Reporters was a Dutch publishing company that specialised in anthropology, religion, and history, releasing unique documents of the cultural multiplicity of human societies and their importance. These recordings were originally released on cassette in 1988, and consist of field recordings made on the Greek island of Amorgos, part of the Cyclades island group in the Aegean Sea. The release was jointly credited to the painter Harry Van Essen, who lived for several years on the island and recorded its soundscapes, and also to the ethnomusicologist and founder of Sound Reporters, Fred Gales, who mixed the recordings.
The recordings consist of sketched amalgams of local sounds from Egiali, a port in the northeast of the island. The first half is a soundscape deeply rooted in the island people’s daily lives, alternating sounds of the sea with popular music, recitations of poetry, the sounds of fishing boats, people playing boardgames, a party. The second half takes us out of the village and into the mountains, unveiling the island’s unadorned natural environment: the sounds of cicadas, the buzz of honeybees, the bells of the large herds of goats left out to pasture, etc.

Martin Khanja (aka Lord Spike Heart) and Sam Karugu emerge from Nairobi's flourishing underground metal scene as former members of the bands Lust of a Dying Breed and Seeds of Datura. Together in 2019 they formed Duma (Darkness in Kikuyu) with Sam abandoning bass for production and guitars and Lord Spike Heart providing extreme vocals to the project.
Recorded at Nyege Nyege Studios in Kampala over three months in mid 2019 their self-titled debut album fuses the frenetic euphoria, unrelenting physicality and rebellious attitude of hardcore punk and trash metal with bone-crunching breakcore and raw, nihilist industrial noise through a claustrophobic vortex of visceral screams.
The savant mix of brutally adrenalized drums, caustic industrial trap, shredding grindcore inspired guitars and abrupt speed changes create a darkly atmospheric menace and is lethal on tracks like the opener "Angels and Abysses" , "Omni" or "Uganda with Sam".
The gruelling slow techno dirges and monolithic vocals on "Pembe 666" or "Sin Nature" add a pinch of dramatic inevitability bringing a new sense of theatricality and terrifying fate awaiting into the record's progression.
A sinister sonic aggression of feral intensity with disregard for styles, Duma promises to impact the burgeoning African metal scene moving it into totally new, boundary-challenging experimental territories.

If you head north on 1-85 from Hillsborough, NC, and take the exit for 58 East, in fifteen minutes you'll reach Diamond Grove, a small unincorporated area in Brunswick County, Virginia on the Meherrin River. To most eyes, there's not much there—you'll have to drive to Lawrenceville for groceries or to South Hill for hardware. But hidden in this patch of Virginia piedmont are the remnants of a dairy farm established in the 1740s, its main house an old two up, two down beauty still outfitted with rope beds and all. Go there today and you'll hear distant sounds of someone working soybeans and cotton in the leased-out outbuildings, farm-use tires grinding gravel roads, frogs peeping, and chickadees singing out: chick-a-dee, chick-a-dee. But if you happened to pass through in September of 2023, you might've heard fiddle tunes ricocheting off the pines, BBS rattling-to-rest inside empties, and the sounds of Weirs recording their second LP and Dear Life Records debut: Diamond Grove.Weirs is an experimental collective grown out of central North Carolina's music scene—one that is equal parts oldtime and DIY noise. Non-hierarchical in form, past Weirs performances have included anywhere from two to twelve people. In September 2023, nine traveled up US-58 to pack into the living and dining rooms of the dairy farm main house, still in the family of band member and organizer Oliver Child-Lanning, whose relatives have been there for centuries. This Weirs lineup—neither definitive nor precious—includes Child-Lanning; Justin Morris and Libby Rodenbough (his collaborators in Sluice); Evan Morgan, Courtney Werner, and Mike DeVito of Magic Tuber Stringband; and stalwarts Andy McLeod, Alli Rogers, and Oriana Messer who played deep into those late-summer evenings. What resulted are the nine tracks of Diamond Grove, recorded with an ad hoc signal chain assembled from a greater-communitys worth of borrowed gear.The Weirs project began as tape experiments on traditional tunes Child-Lanning made under the name Pluviöse in winter 2019. This evolved into the first Weirs record, Prepare to Meet God, which was self-released in July 2020 and was a collaboration between Child-Lanning and Morris during COVID. The strange conditions of that debut—a communal tradition of live songs recorded apart in isolation—are undone by Diamond Grove, a record rooted in the unrepeatable convergence of people, place, and time. On the new record, Weirs continue their search for how best to forward, uphold, and unshackle so-called "traditional" music. They are songcatchers, gathering tunes on the verge of obscure death. Their wild, centuries-spanning repertoire plays like an avant-call-the-tune session—a kind of Real Book for a scene fluent in porch jams, Big Blood, Amps for Christ, and Jean Ritchie. Weirs catch songs whose interpretive canon still feels ajar—open enough to stand next to but never above those who've sung them before. These aren't attempts at definitive versions. The recordings on Diamond Grove feel like visitations rather than revisions. And the question Weirs asks on this record is not how to simply continue the tradition of their forebears, but how traditional music could sound today.For Weirs, the history of this tradition could be taken less from the folk revival than from musique concréte; less from pristine old master recordings than something like The Shadow Ring if theyd come from the evangelical South. One listen to "(A Still, Small Voice)" and you'll hear the power of the hymn give way to its equal: the floorboards, fire crackle, dinners made and eaten. This tension between preservation and degradation is the inner light of Diamond Grove. Take "Doxology l": the melody of "Old Hundred", a hymn from the Sacred Harp tradition, is converted to MIDI, played through iPhone speakers, and re-recorded in the September air. To some revivalists, this hymn sung with all the glory of fake auto-tuned voices might sound sacreligious. But ears attuned, say, to the hyperpop production of the last few decades will immediately understand the tense beauty of hearing digitallyartifacted shape-note singing. This same tension animates "l Want to Die Easy." Weirs' version draws from A Golden Ring of Gospel's recording, monumentalized in the Folkways collection Sharon Mountain Harmony. The melodies, words, structure are largely unchanged. But the "'pure" clarity of voice in the early recording is gone. In its place, we hear the distancing sound of the dairy farm silo where Weirs recorded their version, its natural two-second reverb replacing pristine proximity. In this way, the sound of the recording site itself becomes equal to the traditional performance.The beating heart of Diamond Grove is Weirs's take on "Lord Bateman," a tune Jean Ritchie called a "big ballad:" played when the chores were done and the night's dancing had stopped. It is an 18th-century song—as old as the Diamond Grove farm—about a captured adventurer, described by Nic Jones as embodying the spirit of an Errol Flynn film. Like many great and often a cappella renditions, this "'Lord Bateman" is voice-forward, foregrounding the gather-round-children importance of yarn spinning. What's new here is the immense drone that transubstantiates the narrative into a ceaseless body of elemental forces. It's an eye-blurring murmur of collective strings that adds to the canon of Ritchie and June Tabor as much as to Pelt's Ayahuasca or Henry Flynt's Hillbilly Tape Music.While Diamond Grove isn't explicitly about the old dairy farm where it was recorded, it can't help but resemble it. Old English ballads like "'Lord Bateman" and "'Lord Randall" spill into fields once 'granted' by the British Crown. Tragic songs like "'Edward" stagger across Tuscarora trails and postbellum cotton rows. Hymns like "'Everlasting l" and "Everlasting Il" catch a moonlight that's been falling through double-hung windows since Lord Bacon's Rebellion. And the nocturnals still trill and plows still till a music uncomposed, waiting for any and all ears to chance upon it. Diamond Grove, in these ways, is history. It is a place. It is time. It is songcatching, liveness, tape manipulation. Like the low-head dam that the word weir implies, it is a defense against the current. It is a defense of regional lexicons against mass-produced vernaculars; a defense against the belief that we can simply return to a simpler time; a defense against the idea that folk music must remain "pure"; a defense against the claim that a dream of the future latent in lost histories is irretrievably lost. Against all that, Diamond Grove defends traditional music by making it sound like the complexity of today—because it knows that such music, and all the histories caught up in it, has a role to play in the days to come.
ぜひお聞きください。

If you head north on 1-85 from Hillsborough, NC, and take the exit for 58 East, in fifteen minutes you'll reach Diamond Grove, a small unincorporated area in Brunswick County, Virginia on the Meherrin River. To most eyes, there's not much there—you'll have to drive to Lawrenceville for groceries or to South Hill for hardware. But hidden in this patch of Virginia piedmont are the remnants of a dairy farm established in the 1740s, its main house an old two up, two down beauty still outfitted with rope beds and all. Go there today and you'll hear distant sounds of someone working soybeans and cotton in the leased-out outbuildings, farm-use tires grinding gravel roads, frogs peeping, and chickadees singing out: chick-a-dee, chick-a-dee. But if you happened to pass through in September of 2023, you might've heard fiddle tunes ricocheting off the pines, BBS rattling-to-rest inside empties, and the sounds of Weirs recording their second LP and Dear Life Records debut: Diamond Grove.Weirs is an experimental collective grown out of central North Carolina's music scene—one that is equal parts oldtime and DIY noise. Non-hierarchical in form, past Weirs performances have included anywhere from two to twelve people. In September 2023, nine traveled up US-58 to pack into the living and dining rooms of the dairy farm main house, still in the family of band member and organizer Oliver Child-Lanning, whose relatives have been there for centuries. This Weirs lineup—neither definitive nor precious—includes Child-Lanning; Justin Morris and Libby Rodenbough (his collaborators in Sluice); Evan Morgan, Courtney Werner, and Mike DeVito of Magic Tuber Stringband; and stalwarts Andy McLeod, Alli Rogers, and Oriana Messer who played deep into those late-summer evenings. What resulted are the nine tracks of Diamond Grove, recorded with an ad hoc signal chain assembled from a greater-communitys worth of borrowed gear.The Weirs project began as tape experiments on traditional tunes Child-Lanning made under the name Pluviöse in winter 2019. This evolved into the first Weirs record, Prepare to Meet God, which was self-released in July 2020 and was a collaboration between Child-Lanning and Morris during COVID. The strange conditions of that debut—a communal tradition of live songs recorded apart in isolation—are undone by Diamond Grove, a record rooted in the unrepeatable convergence of people, place, and time. On the new record, Weirs continue their search for how best to forward, uphold, and unshackle so-called "traditional" music. They are songcatchers, gathering tunes on the verge of obscure death. Their wild, centuries-spanning repertoire plays like an avant-call-the-tune session—a kind of Real Book for a scene fluent in porch jams, Big Blood, Amps for Christ, and Jean Ritchie. Weirs catch songs whose interpretive canon still feels ajar—open enough to stand next to but never above those who've sung them before. These aren't attempts at definitive versions. The recordings on Diamond Grove feel like visitations rather than revisions. And the question Weirs asks on this record is not how to simply continue the tradition of their forebears, but how traditional music could sound today.For Weirs, the history of this tradition could be taken less from the folk revival than from musique concréte; less from pristine old master recordings than something like The Shadow Ring if theyd come from the evangelical South. One listen to "(A Still, Small Voice)" and you'll hear the power of the hymn give way to its equal: the floorboards, fire crackle, dinners made and eaten. This tension between preservation and degradation is the inner light of Diamond Grove. Take "Doxology l": the melody of "Old Hundred", a hymn from the Sacred Harp tradition, is converted to MIDI, played through iPhone speakers, and re-recorded in the September air. To some revivalists, this hymn sung with all the glory of fake auto-tuned voices might sound sacreligious. But ears attuned, say, to the hyperpop production of the last few decades will immediately understand the tense beauty of hearing digitallyartifacted shape-note singing. This same tension animates "l Want to Die Easy." Weirs' version draws from A Golden Ring of Gospel's recording, monumentalized in the Folkways collection Sharon Mountain Harmony. The melodies, words, structure are largely unchanged. But the "'pure" clarity of voice in the early recording is gone. In its place, we hear the distancing sound of the dairy farm silo where Weirs recorded their version, its natural two-second reverb replacing pristine proximity. In this way, the sound of the recording site itself becomes equal to the traditional performance.The beating heart of Diamond Grove is Weirs's take on "Lord Bateman," a tune Jean Ritchie called a "big ballad:" played when the chores were done and the night's dancing had stopped. It is an 18th-century song—as old as the Diamond Grove farm—about a captured adventurer, described by Nic Jones as embodying the spirit of an Errol Flynn film. Like many great and often a cappella renditions, this "'Lord Bateman" is voice-forward, foregrounding the gather-round-children importance of yarn spinning. What's new here is the immense drone that transubstantiates the narrative into a ceaseless body of elemental forces. It's an eye-blurring murmur of collective strings that adds to the canon of Ritchie and June Tabor as much as to Pelt's Ayahuasca or Henry Flynt's Hillbilly Tape Music.While Diamond Grove isn't explicitly about the old dairy farm where it was recorded, it can't help but resemble it. Old English ballads like "'Lord Bateman" and "'Lord Randall" spill into fields once 'granted' by the British Crown. Tragic songs like "'Edward" stagger across Tuscarora trails and postbellum cotton rows. Hymns like "'Everlasting l" and "Everlasting Il" catch a moonlight that's been falling through double-hung windows since Lord Bacon's Rebellion. And the nocturnals still trill and plows still till a music uncomposed, waiting for any and all ears to chance upon it. Diamond Grove, in these ways, is history. It is a place. It is time. It is songcatching, liveness, tape manipulation. Like the low-head dam that the word weir implies, it is a defense against the current. It is a defense of regional lexicons against mass-produced vernaculars; a defense against the belief that we can simply return to a simpler time; a defense against the idea that folk music must remain "pure"; a defense against the claim that a dream of the future latent in lost histories is irretrievably lost. Against all that, Diamond Grove defends traditional music by making it sound like the complexity of today—because it knows that such music, and all the histories caught up in it, has a role to play in the days to come.

The visionary Walter Maioli (Futuro Antico, Aktuala) and the eccentric electronic musician John Zandijik first met in 1984 when they both gravitated toward the experimental Sound Reporters collective, participating in the release of Ethnoelectronics (1986). Shortly afterward, the two met at Zandijik's studio in Rotterdam, where they completed their journey of exploration to the edge of the Universe in just three nights. The recordings were made only after 3 a.m., when psychic energy is at its peak, and inspiration belongs solely to the realm of dreams. It was a ritual of long galactic fluctuation, where the mystical sound of the flute was filtered and expanded by the Aureal system, a device capable of breaking it down into cascades of aureal harmonies. Through its extemporaneous approach, the music transforms perceptions of ancient pyramids or tropical forests into phosphorescent nebulae, luminous fountain openings, and unprecedented planetary interstices—interstellar portals leading to new archetypal-ancestral visions. It feels like sailing through colored orbits in the red gases of Jupiter and Mars, lost and dissolved forever in the engines and gears of the most secret cosmos. Between Pink Floyd-esque psychedelic flashes and Tangerine Dream-inspired sidereal architectures, Maioli and Zandijik reveal the most phantasmagoric and unknown side of Sound Reporters.

At the end of the 1980s, Mariolina Zitta approached the world of natural sounds, studying musicology and developing a passion for speleology. Her encounter with Walter Maioli was fundamental, guiding and influencing her definitive research into sound archaeology and the primitive sources of musical acoustic phenomena. In these recordings Mariolina conducts a magical ritual as a cave priestess, celebrating the icons par excellence of the mysteries of the night: bats. The specific frequencies of the calls of these fascinating creatures are recorded with special detectors used by ecologists, the result is an organic synthesizer. The fusion with the sounds of natural objects (stones, stalactites, logs, bone whistles, Tibetan bells, mouth bows, trumpet shells) and the vocal modulations of harmonic singing allow us to travel into a still unexplored sound dimension, through an evocative experience of total sensory listening. It is an arcane landscape filled with pure vibrations, magnetic resonances and aquatic sounds; an ancestral enchantment on the border between consciousness and dreams, a symbolic liturgy of primordial reverberations, echoes and whistles. Edition of 200 copies.


In 1973, the Sound Sculpture Show took place at the Vancouver Art Gallery. An LP audio catalogue (with a booklet) of the exhibition, entitled “The Sounds of Sound Sculpture”, was released in 1975 under the supervision of the Canadian sound sculptor John Grayson and US composer David Rosenboom. Grayson had edited an important early book on the field, “Sound Sculpture”. The LP included rare takes of Rosenboom and Grayson, amongst others, playing famous pieces by pioneering sound sculptors including the Baschet brothers and Harry Bertoia, the latter best known for his Sonambient series. It also included some of the few recordings by Stephan Von Huene, who had begun to create his kinetic sculptures, and the profound atmospheric pressure systems constructed by the New York sound artist David Jacobs. The LP comes complete with a booklet of visually arresting photos and other materials about these historic sound sculptures.

Sound Reporters was a Dutch publishing company that specialised in anthropology, religion, and history, releasing unique documents of the cultural multiplicity of human societies and their importance. These recordings were originally released on cassette in 1988, and consist of field recordings made on the Greek island of Amorgos, part of the Cyclades island group in the Aegean Sea. The release was jointly credited to the painter Harry Van Essen, who lived for several years on the island and recorded its soundscapes, and also to the ethnomusicologist and founder of Sound Reporters, Fred Gales, who mixed the recordings.
The recordings consist of sketched amalgams of local sounds from Egiali, a port in the northeast of the island. The first half is a soundscape deeply rooted in the island people’s daily lives, alternating sounds of the sea with popular music, recitations of poetry, the sounds of fishing boats, people playing boardgames, a party. The second half takes us out of the village and into the mountains, unveiling the island’s unadorned natural environment: the sounds of cicadas, the buzz of honeybees, the bells of the large herds of goats left out to pasture, etc.

After previous sonic impressions of Unguja and Borneo, Gonçalo F. Cardoso continues his meditative travelogue on island life with Impressões de Várias Ilhas, released via Discrepant. This third chapter draws from time spent across three archipelagos in Macaronesia—Azores, Cape Verde and the Canary Islands—melding field recordings with synthesis to explore the hazy border between real experience and remembered sensation.
Cardoso’s diaristic approach captures the resonance of water caves, black beaches, lagoons, and small-town life, processed into impressionistic vignettes that feel both intimate and unreal. These aren’t grand postcard statements but subtle, atmospheric sketches—never lapsing into sonic tourism but instead conjuring fleeting, liminal states.
From the gentle waves and echoing tones of ‘Bufadeiros de São Vicente’—not far removed from Beaches & Canyons-era Black Dice—to the eerie ambience of ‘Noite em Rabo de Peixe’ and the musique concrète-leaning unease of ‘Rãs em Xoxo’, Cardoso moves between warmth, strangeness and nostalgia. The closing ‘Salinas de Pedra Lume’ becomes a quiet epic, full of cracked recordings and spectral tones—less a travel document than a haunted reflection on place, memory and disappearance.

From the 1950s, Masaaki Takano (1927-2007) worked as a freelance "sound planner," mainly creating sound effects for stage productions. In the mid-1980s he began performances called "Sound Play" where he would perform on his own self-created sound instruments and his collection of ethnic instruments. Growing out of his work with sound effects, he became obsessed with the recording of natural sounds from the 1970s onwards, and this album "Shizukutachi" is a record of a high-quality recording of water droplets that he created in the studio using his own self-created suikinchiku system. This reissue recreates the original LP, using special paper to create beautiful packaging and duplicating the original, ultra-transparent vinyl. The reissue includes newly penned, detailed liner notes by Tomotaro Kaneko (owner of the Japanese Art Sound Archive).
Remastered by Giuseppe Ielasi.
The LP jacket is made from two layers of chipboard cardboard and washi-like "shindanshi" paper that reproduces the feel of the original. The LP also comes with two postcards and a 20-page A4 booklet (Text in Japanese and English),a download code.
