MUSIC

For the first time this century, two missed masterpieces are coming available on vinyl. The band Souled American formed in Chicago in 1986 and recorded a total of sixty-six songs between 1988 and 1996. Though not ever popular themselves, their evolving hybrid of roots/rock music heavily influenced many more popular bands to come, among them Wilco, The Jayhawks, The Feelies, Califone, Counting Crows, The Mountain Goats, and Cracker. Their records became legendary, unavailable for decades. Some got to the Internet in 2023. Their last two albums Frozen and Notes Campfire will now be re-issued in limited, hand-crafted, 30th Anniversary Editions with a fresh abundance of stories, technical information, musician credits, and cartoons that detail the unexpected origins surrounding these two early classics of “ambient Americana.” These records sound at once both old and new with brilliant melodies and profound performances stacked in unusual patterns like soft-hued bricks.

On Beacon Hill: at twilight we find Anthony Moore, roots winding backwards to the halcyon days of Slapp Happy and the ‘70s progressive art rock scene, at guitar and piano. With the atmospheres and accompaniments of AKA & Friends, he breathes infernal new life into songs from his six decades of multivarious music making. This new delivery system is unto a séance, a communal incantation, twining Anthony’s avant and pop traditions together in a darkly radiant coil of folky chamber music; a rope to lower the listener through cobwebs and murk, unveiling new life beneath Anthony’s mad old lines.

It is new life that we will need if we hope to reoccupy this cursed earth.

AKA are Anthony Moore, Keith Rodway and Amanda Thompson. A pagan family of sound worshipers hailing from that unholiest of all places: Hastings UK, home of Crowley and Turing. Like their sinister forbears in that infamous tradition, this latest trinity shares a passion for subverting pattern and number, factoring unlikely permutations arising from sea and horizon, greensward, the southerly aspect, and the planisphere as half-world. Their equatorial shore speaks of a planet of water and earth, fire and air. AKA’s humble tools of choice for this endeavor are guitar, piano, organ, synthesizer and vocals.

The Friends of AKA are Tullis Rennie, trombone and electronics; Olie Brice, double bass; Richard Moore, violin; and Haydn Ackerley, guitar. They too navigate the shoreline of the south coast, haunt the same taverns and regularly play together in whatever combinations fit the bill.

Leaving the drums (and their drummer) at home to realize anew these dream-laden songs, AKA & Friends ensure that the notes fall around the beat and not on it, so as to define the pulse with absence. As such, time is liberated, prised free from the merciless clock; a rhythm of waves, passing through a steady-state universe of no beginnings and no endings. Discontinuities are dissolved, all is transition.

On Beacon Hill: Anthony Moore with AKA & Friends manifest a sensuous post-devastation lounge act, seeking to re-invoke natural orders by naming — rather than cursing — the darkness in its many guises. Like final-phase Johnny Cash on a lost episode of Twin Peaks, Anthony’s innate gravitas is a light through the surreal landscape, as the players combine themselves again and again, their efforts rising and falling in shared space. Their gothic jazz orchestra carves delicately through Anthony’s songs, releasing the melodies and the melancholy to drift upward, like smoke against a sooty and scorched backdrop.

On Beacon Hill: fantastic, prophetic journeys, dry eyed but deeply affected, through the shadow depths of Anthony Moore’s mirror. As we listen, we gravitate and journey alongside fellow refugees in solidarity and solitude alike.

Jim O'Rourke returns with his first new solo album since 2001. All the classic O’Rourke-isms are here, for you musicologist types: percolating banjos, smooth electric leads, organic, kicking drum sounds, the flickering of shakers to the left and right, mellow but ominous woodwinds, sounds that indicate “vintage” (before turning left and running out the door), sonic jokes, sonic tear-jerkers, sonic jerkoffs, all wrapped in spacious yet subtle left to right placement of everything in the picture. There’s moments of low comedy next to high drama and juicy melancholy with a seeming lack of regard for proximity. Plus―sudden surging rhythms! The Visitor is sort of “O’Rourke Does O’Rourke”―Jim re-contextualizing everything he’s done over the years, and throwing out the bullshit. The one thing you won’t hear is his voice―perhaps another O’Rourkian self-examination? Or maybe he’s just saving it for all the name-calling on his next album.

Tommy Peltier's Echo Park, compiled of unheard tapes from the early/mid 1970s, brings us into contact with a long-extinct creature — equal parts slinky hipster, universal soldier of the heart and snuggly loverman — the light-rockin’ tinseltown troubadour, the likes of which hasn’t been served around Hollywood since 1979! Tommy’s somewhere in the tuneful tradition of Rupert Holmes, Stephen Bishop, Andrew Gold, David Batteau and of course, Captain Fantastic and the Thin White Duke. His soulful songs and high-pitched vocals (he was once called “Tom Rapp on helium”) are paired with the requisite chopsy, jazz-enriched LA players, entrancing the ear with grooves and performances both tasty and sweet. Mixed and mastered with great zest by Jim O’Rourke (he brought new life to recordings of a similar vintage for Judee Sill’s posthumous Dreams Come True back in 2005), Echo Park is an encompassing trip through a whole other time and place. A trumpet player since childhood, Tommy felt no need for pop music; he’d come of age during the west coast jazz explosion of the 1950s, hearing Gerry Mulligan and Chet Baker’s legendary performances at The Haig Club, just a mile west of MacArthur Park. Inspired by the departures of the Ornette Coleman Quartet, he founded The Jazz Corps in 1963, gigging all around around town, including a residency at Hermosa Beach’s also-legendary Lighthouse. Their sound was captured on a stellar 1967 Pacific Jazz release featuring Roland Kirk. Jazz was Tommy's game, but when he injured his side playing lead parts in a big band, he couldn’t blow for long without aggravating it. Something had to give. Fortunately, there was a lot of giving in those days. In ‘68, he met aspiring singer/songwriter Judee Sill. He found her energy amazing, as she played bass in a group he was sitting in with, and it quickly became clear—he and Judee were in tune! When Tommy picked up the guitar and started writing songs, she was there with help and encouragement. As the '70s dawned, Tommy was turning 35, but he was also turning the page, like so many others, to find something amazing there on the other side. Amazing music things flow freely up and down the tracklist of Echo Park. Inspired — not influenced — by Yes, Supertramp, ELO, Queen, Bowie, The Beatles and others, Tommy developed and honed his new music throughout the '70s. A handful of the cuts here were recorded between 1970 and ‘73, just a mile from Echo Park Lake, at an unassuming rear house set back in the hills (that Tommy’s been a resident of since 1966!). Other tracks were recorded at sessions in Hollywood in 1975 and ‘76, at now-obscure studios like Music Grinder and Heritage. Tommy was tight with a great bunch of guys: guitarist Art Johnson, who worked with far-out jazzers like John Klemmer, Paul Horn and Tim Weisburg, and was a member of the progressive jazz collective The Advancement; keyboardist Richard Thompson, whose studio rounds included The Association, John Hartford and Gábor Szabó; bassist Wolfgang Melz, who played with peaceful, easy folkies Hedge & Donna, Mark-Almond and Daniel Moore, plus Charles Lloyd, Szabó, Klemmer, and the psychedelically wigged Gravity Adjusters Expansion Band. Judee Sill’s on a couple songs too, as are former Jazz Corpsmen Lynn Blessing and Bill Plummer. Tommy’s first pop band, Jasmine, appear on “Here Today” — his very first vocal composition, and the earliest recording here. Lots of great times and great songs, but no contract.... which turns out to be our gain, as we release them today! Tommy has continued to play music, releasing new stuff with Plastic Theatre Art Band in 1996, and a number of releases under his own name, most recently in 2011. And at the ripe young age of 90(!), he’s still playing today! Mixed and mastered by Jim O'Rourke, Echo Park is a high-flying journey through the past.

Reissue, originally released in 1979. "This is an album that takes you on a supernatural journey to the discovery of ancient sounds that move our souls in the deepest of manners." Veronique Chalot was born in Normandy in the north of France, but it was in Paris that she first became interested in traditional French folk music. In 1974 she landed in Rome where she soon earned a small, but dedicated following. In 1979 she recorded her first studio effort, J'ai Vu Le Loup, for the Italian Materiali Sonori label. Over the past 30+ years she has given hundreds of concerts, presenting her repertoire of traditional French/Italian folk songs and building awareness of that fascinating patrimony of antique melodies and dance rhythms. She passed away unfortunately on the 3rd of July 2021. Fully licensed. LP includes inlay card featuring an exclusive essay by Emma Tricca; 180 gram vinyl; edition of 500.

In April 2024, Joseph Shabason and Nicholas Krgovich set off on a two-week tour of Japan, their first time performing in the country as Shabason & Krgovich. In an act of well-coordinated serendipity, Koji Saito of 7e.p. records enlisted Saya and Ueno of Tenniscoats, the revered Japanese duo, to tour with and perform backing band duties throughout their stops in Matsumoto, Nagoya, Kobe, Kyoto, and Tokyo.

The four could only rehearse twice, but it was all they needed. Their connection was immediate and felt in the music; their shows fluid, elastic, and just the right amount of unpredictable. Saito had anticipated this simpatico and arranged for recording engineers to meet them in Kobe, where they had a two-day stay at the famed Guggenheim House, a 117-year-old colonial-style residence that had been converted into an artist residency.

With no songs prepared, they began to play with melodies, improvising and pulling pieces from that spontaneity into wholes. Saya and Krgovich soon realized the closeness in their approach to lyric writing. From sharing Japanese nicknames for clouds while looking at the sky above a rest stop (fishscale cloud, dragon cloud, sardine cloud, sleep cloud, sheep cloud), searching for matching socks in a bin at a clothing store, to an ode to Tan Tan, a beloved panda who had recently died of old age at the Kobe Oji Zoo — they both seek out and sing to the magic in the everyday.

That’s what this experience came to feel like: magic, every day. As the group worked, they watched the Pacific Ocean advance and recede from the windows of the Guggenheim House. Over those two days, they’d compose and record eight songs, listed in order of creation, on the album that came to be called Wao.

"What is also cool about the album is that the house is very much not a recording studio so it sounds super live and because it's also right on the train tracks you can often hear the train in the recordings as it drives by. To me it adds so much charm and personality," Joseph describes. "The whole thing felt like a dream and was over so quickly so I kinda forgot about it until a few weeks after I got home. When I opened up the sessions is was really clear that we had done something special."

It all happened so quickly, an enchanting whirl. Dreamlike, they had fallen into and out of it. Only when the recordings arrived in the mail a few weeks later did that dreamy state sharpen into a memory and a moment that you can now revisit, over and over again.

Jagjaguwar is proud to release the long lost Julie Doiron album 'Broken Girl', expanded to include her first two 7"s. It was originally released in 1996 by Doiron after her band--the psychedelic folk group Eric's Trip--had crumbled around her, under the temporary moniker "Broken Girl". The name did nothing to hide her feelings regarding the breakup of her band and the relationships that she shared with its members; neither did the songs on the record. The twelve songs from the original album come across like an epitaph for a departed lover. 'Broken Girl' was indeed a new beginning for Doiron, both as a solo artist as well as a record label executive. The first two Broken Girl 7"s (both included on this reissue), as well as the self-titled full-length were released on her own label Sappy Records, a label which went on to release her Juno Award-winning 'Julie Doiron & the Wooden Stars' full-length as well as releases by Moonsocket, Orange Glass, Snailhouse, and Elevator to Hell.

'Broken Girl' was a watershed for Doiron, showing her to be the sort of songwriter and performer that Eric's Trip only hinted at. Achingly beautiful and showcasing her vocal style and personality as a songwriter, the reviews immediately put her in the same class as Leonard Cohen in terms of importance as a Canadian solo artist. The album was self-recorded in the same home-y manner as the classic Eric's Trip albums which helped--along with albums by peers Sebadoh, East River Pipe and Smog--define the bedroom aesthetic of the early '90s. While some rock scribes would call it lo-fi, the fidelity of the recordings that Doiron and her Eric's Trip mates employed in the first half of the '90s was clearly the most appropriate medium. The close-mic'ing of everything from the vocals to the swirling guitars and peaking drums created a sense of real intimacy (while avoiding a lot of the awkward pitfalls that so many confessional songwriters run into) and suburban claustrophobia. It is very easy to see the four-piece as a Nick Drake-like entity who had been raised on the far East Coast of Canada in Moncton, New Brunswick on the SST catalog (Eric's Trip took their name from the Sonic Youth song from Daydream Nation) and whose nucleus was a four-fold of independently-minded co-dependents with no need for a producer or other intermediary to the recording process which might break the spell for even a moment.

Initially released in a scant edition of 1,000, 'Broken Girl' went immediately out of print and has become a highly sought-after collector's piece.

"Fellow Canadian songwriter Leonard Cohen once titled an album Songs From A Room. Montreal-based Julie Doiron apparently took up residence there and removed whatever furniture was left behind."--Rob O'Connor, Rolling Stone 

Multi-instrumentalist Sufjan Stevens made a couple of records that slipped under the radar before his third, the astoundingly lush post-rock concept album GREETINGS FROM MICHIGAN, gained him critical attention and cult status. Seemingly bent on not repeating himself, Stevens scales down MICHIGAN's grandeur to a minimalist palette for SEVEN SWANS. Where the previous album was instrumentally comparable to Tortoise or Stereolab, SEVEN SWANS is practically lo-fi, based around simply strummed acoustic guitars, banjo, organ, and hushed vocals. It's more akin to laconic Americana troubadours like Will Oldham and Iron & Wine, though no amount of sonic slimming-down can disguise Stevens's knack for crafty arrangements and accessibly quirky songs. Like-minded spirit Daniel Smith of the Danielson Family produced, and other Family members provide accompaniment that's considerably more structured than their own free-wheeling recordings.

We at EM Records love to transport our listeners to new worlds, other worlds; “Pantilde”, this magical new album from Cornish avant-folk performance artist The Worm (they/them), is indeed an ethereal new world: otherworldly, but somehow rooted; an imaginary oral and musical story of everyday village life in an alternative Celtic landscape. The music here is strange yet familiar, fantastical and enchanting while remaining simultaneously attached to the earth. Amy Lawrence (they/them), aka The Worm, plays cello, harp, recorders and percussion, accompanying and framing her rich voice, which is often overdubbed into lovely homespun vocal ensembles; they tell song-stories of mythical and mystical village life, of nature and the human relationship with the natural world. The Worm can be considered part of a lineage which includes The Incredible String Band, Shovel Dance Collective, Bridget St John, Dorothy Carter, Vashti Bunyan, Jessica Pratt, Cathrine Howe, Mary Lattimore, Tristwch Y Fenywod and of course many others. “Pantilde”, a time-trip to a dreamlike, pastoral world that nevertheless feels distinctly realized, is a remarkable avant-folk fantasia, co-released with Prah Recordings. Available on 12-inch LP & CD, with English and Japanese liner notes and lyrics. The CD format also feature a Yama Warashi remix bonus track.

In conjunction with the 2025 re-pressing of the Nora Guthrie "Emily's Illness/Home Before Dark” 7-inch single, we have here, in the same format, a lovely cover of the latter tune, performed by Eddie Marcon, a band based in Himeji, Japan. The band’s vocalist Eddie Corman and musician/producer Shintaro Sakamoto wrote the Japanese lyrics for this gorgeous version, recorded in 2024 and originally unintended for public release; however, this slice of sweetness, delivered by the full band comprising guitar, keyboards, bass, percussion and wistful winds is now available to the lucky listener. The flipside, recorded in 2025, is an intriguingly ghostly recomposed version for cello and flute by TORSO, a Tokyo instrumental duo, who used the basic tracks from the Eddie Marcon version of “Home Before Dark" as a ‘guide’ before finally deleting the basic tracks.

Nora Guthrie's ultra-rare "Emily's Illness" is a lost gem of songcraft originally released in 1967, now reissued in the same 7" vinyl format (b/w "Home Before Dark") as the original. Featuring the pure vocals of the 17-year-old daughter of Woody Guthrie, "Emily's Illness" was written by Eric Eisner (The Strangers) and impeccably arranged by Artie Schroeck. A romantic collaboration of psychedelia, pop, and acid-folk, but informed by the harmonic and rhythmic developments of João Gilberto and jazz.

A peerless debut album by Jacks, born in the dawn of Japanese rock, reissued as a colored vinyl modeled after the original red pressing released by Toshiba Musical Industries on September 10, 1968.

At first, Gia Margaret called her new album ‘Romantic Piano’ to be a bit cheeky. Its spare, gentle piano works share more spirit with Erik Satie, Emahoy Tsegué-Maryam Guébrou and the ‘Marginalia’ releases of Masakatsu Takagi than they do with, say, a cozy and candlelit date night. But in that cheekiness lies hidden intention: across the gorgeous set, “Romantic” is suggested in a more classic sense, what the Germans call waldeinsamkeit. Its compositions conjure the sublime themes of the Romantic poets: solitude in nature; nature’s ability to heal and to teach; a sense of contented melancholy. "I wanted to make music that was useful,” says Margaret, vastly understating the power of the record. ‘Romantic Piano’ is curious, calming, patient and incredibly moving — but it doesn’t overstay its welcome for more than a second. Margaret’s debut, ‘There’s Always Glimmer,’ was a lyrical wonder, but when an illness on tour left her unable to sing, she made her ambient album ‘Mia Gargaret’ (another cheeky title!) which revealed a keen intuition for arrangement and composition not fully shown on ‘There’s Always Glimmer’s lyrical songs. ‘Romantic Piano’, too, is almost totally without words. “Writing instrumental music, in general, is a much more joyful process than I find in lyrical songwriting,” she says. “The process ultimately effects my songwriting.” And while Margaret has more songwriterly material on the way, ‘Romantic Piano’ solidifies her as a compositional force. Originally pursuing a degree in composition, Margaret dropped out of music school halfway through. “I really didn’t want to play in an orchestra,” she said of her decision, “I really just wanted to write movie scores. Then, I started to focus more and more on being a songwriter. ‘Romantic Piano’ scratched an old itch.” ‘Romantic Piano’ does indeed touch on a rare feeling in art often only reserved for the cinema — a simultaneous wide-lens awe of existence and the post-language intimate inner monologue of being marooned in these skulls of ours. How very Romantic!

Singer, actor and musician Farid El Atrache, born on October 19, 1910 in Soueïda, Syria, and died on December 26, 1974 in Beirut, Lebanon, is considered the greatest singer of the Arab world. A virtuoso of the oud, his timeless work, rich in hundreds of compositions, is recognized the world over. The present selection is devoted to the master's early works recorded in the 1930s-1940s. ----- Chanteur, acteur et musicien, Farid El Atrache né le 19 octobre 1910 à Soueïda en Syrie et mort le 26 décembre 1974 à Beyrouth au Liban est considéré comme le plus grand chanteur du monde arabe. Virtuose du oud, son oeuvre intemporelle riche de plusieurs centaines de compositions est reconnue dans le monde entier. La présente sélection est consacrée aux premières oeuvres du maître enregistrées dans les années 1930-1940.

In Osni the Flare, the second chapter of Tristan Allen's mythic trilogy, the composer, producer, and puppeteer follows a mortal’s transformation into deity through the discovery of fire. Recorded over four years using wordless vocals, organs, ocarinas, an arsenal of toy instruments, and intricate sound design, Osni the Flare unfolds the origins of flame and temporality across four acts. Weaving a creation myth that shifts between beauty, shadow, and wistful embers, Allen provides a portal to meticulously crafted, emotionally potent sound and story that echo through a fantastical realm.

맑은 소리의 모음집입니다. 이번 앨범은 소리가 많이 작습니다. 볼륨을 키워서 들어주세요-! 감사합니다. This album is very quiet. Please turn up the volume-! Thank you.

Melody As Truth founder Jonny Nash returns to action with his first solo album in four years. Point of Entry, the Gaussian Curve member’s sixth solo set, builds on Nash’s recent forays into folk traditions (2020’s Poe, made in collaboration with Teguh Permana, and 2021’s Suzanne Kraft co-production A Heart So White), while delivering a clear musical evolution. Over the course of eleven mesmerising tracks, Nash points the compass gently inwards, casting aside any conceptual frameworks in favour of exploring an imaginative and idealised “personal folk music” that combines elements of traditional acoustic music with the producer’s richly immersive interpretation of ambient, a sound he has been developing for well over a decade. The album was created using a stream of consciousness approach to writing and recording, with Nash utilising his favoured instrument – the guitar, often doused in atmospheric effects – as a starting point. Throughout, his delicate and evocative playing takes centre stage, its melodic lines and finger-picked refrains painting aural images that resonate with positive yet contemplative energy. From the smudged acid-folk bliss of ‘Theories’ and ‘Eternal Life’, to the layered acoustic guitars of ‘All I Ever Needed’ and the delay-soaked, Durutti Column-esque ‘Light From Three Sides’, a wide variety of musical textures weave their way throughout the album. Point of Entry is much more than a mere ‘guitar album’ – it draws on a rich and diverse palette to achieve its purpose. The delicate saxophone work of ambient-jazz contemporary Joseph Shabason swells on ‘Ditto’ and ‘Light From Three Sides’. Cascading piano lines ripple through the crystal clear sonic waters of ‘Face of Another’, whilst echoes of Nash’s work with Gigi Masin and Young Marco as Gaussian Curve appear in the dancing synth sequences of ‘Ditto’ and ‘Golden Hour’. Nash’s reverb-laden voice also appears for the first time since 2016’s critically acclaimed Exit Strategies, used delicately throughout the album to conjure up a world of dusk and golden light. Combining the delicate human touch and naivety of earlier Melody As Truth releases with widened scope and vision, Point Of Entry is arguably Nash’s most complete work to date – an album that’s as much a statement of his “personal folk” vision as a future ambient classic.

Carlos Niño, the Los Angeles–based musician known for his work with Build An Ark and numerous collaborations, performs an extensive array of instruments and sound-making objects on Bubble Bath for Giants—including bells, bowls, chimes, various drums, gongs, metal and wooden keyboards, plant leaf bundles, shakers, and his own voice—while also shaping the album’s overall sound design.

The temptation to mythologize Bill Fay can be overwhelming; Fay was, for decades, as prolific as he was under-appreciated. Fay’s unsung-hero status has changed slowly, steadily, on the order of almost twenty-five years. With each new album comes new hosannas and evangelizers — Jeff Tweedy, Kevin Morby, Adam Granduciel and Julia Jacklin, to name just a few. The Bill Fay Group, in particular, is Fay’s most significant collaborative work; he records as a member of a larger group here, and the result summons a grander sonic scale, an elegant counterweight to Fay’s instincts for the understated. Tomorrow Tomorrow and Tomorrow brings to bear the galactic qualities of early rock, the intricacy of jazz improv, and Fay’s earthy folk magic. Tomorrow Tomorrow and Tomorrow has a patchy release history: recorded between 1978 and 1981, it was not released until 2005, when it appeared on CD with limited streaming and no vinyl companion. A 2006 reissue brought the album onto vinyl but with a truncated sequence and nine songs missing. Now, finally, Tomorrow Tomorrow and Tomorrow arrives in full worldwide. Available on streaming services worldwide and pressed to a double-album vinyl edition, it features the album’s original 22 songs and includes rare and previously unseen photographs from Tomorrow Tomorrow and Tomorrow’s original recording session. In the words of Gary Smith and Rauf Galip, missing Bill Stratton, and abbreviated from the forthcoming album notes: We chose five songs to record as finished pieces: Life, Spiritual Mansions, Cosmic Boxer, Strange Stairway, Isles of Sleep, all recorded in two studio sessions. We sent them out to try and get a record deal. There were few really independent labels back then and Punk was in the record labels’ ears. No deal. And now, Dead Oceans who have a lot of faith in Bill’s music wants to re- release the ‘Tomorrow’ album. A double vinyl package. Is there any more unreleased music for the fourth side? Of course. So, we’ve been opening old boxes, finding CDRs, cassettes, a musical archaeological dig. This is our choice from all the music we found. Fly Like a Bird.

This is a rare and lovely gem of an EP by an indie pop/folk artist influenced by jazz and MPB. It is a work that fully demonstrates the soul-cleansing freshness of jazz and the poetic and soft sensibility that is omnipresent in indie music, as well as the cuteness of the Japanese lyrics.

Extra Stars is a deeply beautiful expression of Gregory Uhlmann’s ever-evolving sound world, and comes at a pivotal juncture in the LA-based composer, producer, guitarist and multi-instrumentalist’s musical journey.

Following a long run of supporting work with artists like Perfume Genius, Tasha, and Hand Habits, alongside an eponymous recorded output largely focused on his more singer-songwriter oriented music, Uhlmann has spent the better part of the last couple years trotting out album after album of groundbreaking instrumental modern music. From the sparse melodies and hushed ambient soundscapes of Small Day, to his much-lauded duo outing Doubles with Meg Duffy, to his perhaps lesser-known but no-less-brilliant duo record Water Map with Dustin Wong, to the lush chamber-jazz interplay of his trio recording with saxophonist Josh Johnson and bassist Sam Wilkes, to the two genre-breaking albums he released as a co-leader of synth-laced trance-jazz quintet SML (2024’s Small Medium Large and 2025’s How You Been), Uhlmann has subtly, if not quietly, established himself as an essential presence in some of the most progressive recordings of our time.

Extra Stars encompasses all he’s learned through all the above. A radiant sidereal serenade, the album’s fourteen miniature infinities swirl serendipitous synthesis and measured, melody-rich song into a panoramic menagerie of sound. For a record that seldom incorporates percussion instruments, the music is distinctly rhythm-forward, while Uhlmann also leans heavily into swaths of pastoral beauty. Extra care was clearly poured into the kind of harmonic depth that’s often missing from vibe-only “ambient” music, making for a delightfully refreshing take on the electronic, processing-heavy 'quiet' sound.

The compositions and production techniques here reflect Uhlmann’s musicality perfectly, surely the result of him being as much a seasoned practitioner as he is an avid listener. If there is a middle ground between Cluster & Eno, Terry Riley’s Shri Camel, and Yo La Tengo’s There’s a Riot Going On, it’s somewhere nearby. Lofty comparisons aside, Extra Stars seems to look beyond reference or imitation. Even the album’s title indicates as much—inspired by a trip to California’s Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest, where the reality of the night sky’s starry expanse stretches beyond the boundaries of belief.

We can feel Uhlmann’s gaze past the horizon line from the jump. Album opener “Pocket Snail” kicks off with a slow-ambling synth bass line before opening up into a richly processed, reverberating cacophony of beautiful sliding melodies. Eyes wide open, the small world of the pocket snail begins to burst with new color after a fresh injection of sunlight, but the tonality is more akin to something of a simple torch ballad. It’s an immense clash of big and small, and sets the stage nicely for the delightful vantage point shifting to come throughout the record.

“Lucia” is named after a quaint lodge nestled amongst the cliffside drama of Big Sur, and the tune’s musical rendering of an intimate yet expansive perspective perfectly fits its namesake. The steady thump and chime of Uhlmann’s guitar repetitions sit atop a field recording of the distant, heavy-winded ocean crash of the Cabrillo Highway coast, held even steadier by harbor bell metallic clank percussion and a firm yet pillowy cluster of electric organ chords and mellotron-like leads. Enter saxophonist Alabaster DePlume, the track's lone feature, with his signature breathy reed work. Here DePlume’s vibrato-heavy tenor sax wandering adds a secret-among-friends intimacy to a sonic scene that could go for miles. DePlume hums low in multitrack as Uhlmann leads the steady pulse on, encountering syncopated harmonic pings, fluttering recorder flourishes, and the little bustling sounds of the rural Pacific shoreline. Earworms must live in the ocean air, because it’s tough to get any element of “Lucia” unstuck once it’s in, and the whole thing is all tied up in a bow in just under three and a half minutes. Equally playful and introspective, “Lucia” is the potential soundtrack to a close reading or a thousand yard stare. If Jim Henson dreamt Link’s Awakening this would be the sound he heard.

“Burnt Toast” is an essential example of Uhlmann’s penchant for using the guitar to make non-guitar sounds. That’s not to say that what is occurring here is a simple act of processing. Rather, Uhlmann has a distinct and instantly recognizable ability to play the instrument itself in a way that lends to drastic and realtime tonal transformation. Clocking in at a lean 1:25, it’s a quick and lively skip through a blend of complimentary and warring syncopations—another hallmark of Uhlmann’s style—topped with synthetic glissandos and stereo-image warbles placed just so. What really makes it gel, though, is the harmonic simplicity that the transformative madness is serving. At the end of the day, the basic structure of “Burnt Toast” is an uncomplicated chord progression.

That essential simplicity, leaning into tonal expressions of quiet joy and deep longing, could be the most relevant throughline in Uhlmann’s work. On Extra Stars it’s likely best exemplified on “Days,” a serene 7+ minute track born in the nerve shattering confusion of 2020. “It was made in my old apartment and felt like a way of self soothing by playing the same chords over and over again,” says Uhlmann. The result is a wisping, languid, near free-time drift through a progression that manages to maintain its directness despite its slow-building reverberated accompaniment. Like a Harold Budd take on the somber fingerpicked elegance of Frantz Casseus, “Days” wanders through the speakers with an almost nostalgic air. A grandmotherly wall organ melody sings around dancing piano notes as chattering synthesis renders itself percussive amongst the steel string comfort of Uhlmann’s electric guitar. It’s the kind of recording that could go on forever and maybe, somewhere, it’s doing just that. On Extra Stars, though, it acts as a spiritual centerpiece, rejuvenating the listener as it fades out slowly, cleansing and leaving us ready for more.

“Back Scratch” is collage-cut from a series of piano improvisations and post-composed with pitch-shifted percussion contributions from Uhlmann’s SML bandmate Booker Stardrum. Uneven loops syncopate in chance mode while the barrage of high-register notes conflate with Stardrum’s stickwork to cement a rhythm dense enough to nearly become a drone. The impulsive comparison to the intensely rhythmic zither dance of Laraaji would be understandable, but mostly inaccurate. “Back Scratch” is produced in a markedly raw, un-reverberated manner—and it’s precisely that stark wonkiness that separates it from something like Day Of Radiance and makes it more akin to a basement DIY crack at Reich’s Drumming. That said, its brevity and singularity among the wildly diverse Extra Stars tracklist means that it might be (just maybe) more actual fun to listen to than both of those records.

The guitarless moments on Extra Stars shine as brightly as those that highlight Uhlmann’s primary instrument, but even those departures display themselves distinctively, especially when he invites and directs a collaborator. The labcoat synth silliness and percussive b-ball bounce of “Dottie,” for instance, contrasts sharply from the unbridled beeswarm rhythm composite of “Worms Eye” despite the implementation of the same tools and techniques—likely due to the co-production presence of synthesist Jeremiah Chiu (another SML bandmate) on the latter. Regardless, there’s no mistaking an Uhlmann composition and there’s no mistaking when he’s at the helm. For instance, while Chiu’s presence can certainly be felt on “Voice Exchange,” its outlandish rhythm focused take on the pitch-shifted vocals of longtime Uhlmann collaborator Tasha couldn’t be further from the other Chiu co-productions on Extra Stars.

The ability to maintain a recognizable voice across vast stylistic shifts, while employing the talents of those who also possess singularly recognizable voices, is not something that is heard often and it’s Uhlmann’s ability to recognize what makes each collaborator unique that makes it work here. A great example is “Bristlecone,” which finds him directing the powerful low-end command of Anna Butterss’s bass and the multiphonic mystery of Josh Johnson’s processed alto. The composition and arrangement are supported at every turn by Uhlmann’s SML bandmates without the result ever wandering away from something we can hear as distinctly his. Like David Bowie, Joni Mitchell, or Miles Davis, Uhlmann uses collaboration to both support and transform. To reinforce and evolve. With Extra Stars he has delivered such a promising collection of instrumental concepts following an extended period of vast, high-level artistic output. There’s no doubt that it will continue to be a joy to experience that evolution in real time.

2025 repress. "Out-of-print LPs from the critically acclaimed electronic experimental singer/songwriter. Unavailable since 2012.'This sound / synapse transposition is as haunting as it is beautiful -- surely Grouper's best.' --Tiny Mix Tapes. 'If past Grouper releases have inhabited abyssal trenches and damp backwoods, here Harris takes us journeying across constellations and stars. Two of the most beguiling albums of the year, exquisitely realized and singularly evocative.' --The Quietus. 'This music feels both spacey and expansive and also oddly intimate and grounded, the work of someone who has mastered her tools and knows how to get the most out of them.' --Pitchfork. 'Harris finds a way to dive deeper in simple and unassuming ways.' --NPR."

She's back with yet another masterpiece album, overflowing with emotions, musical ideas and mysterious atmospheres. With Halo, Juana Molina picks up where she left off with her previous acclaimed album Wed 21, and shows once more that she really is "on an evolutionary journey of her own devising" (Pitchfork), which has brought the "eerie, hypnotic" music on each of her albums "to increasingly haunting heights (Spin).

Halo is Juana Molina's seventh album, it contains twelve songs and was recorded in her home studio outside of Buenos Aires, and at Sonic Ranch Studio in Texas, with contributions by Odin Schwartz & Diego Lopez de Arcaute (who have both been playing live with Juana for a number of years), and Eduardo Bergallo (who has taken part in the mixing of her previous albums), with Deerhoof's John Dieterich making a guest appearance in a couple of tracks.

1975 Mekeel Sessions is a mini‑album that brings together the long‑lost, previously unreleased recordings Jackson C. Frank made in 1975 — a set of sessions long regarded as his ‘lost’ work.