MUSIC

Solo Suono is the first collaboration between saxophonist Filippo Ansaldi and electronic musician Simone Sims Longo, both based in Cuneo, Italy. Solo Suono is an album between acoustic gesture and electronic treatment, beyond the classical while starting from the classical. Breath, amplified mechanics, residual sounds, expressive freedom, and different forms that integrate electroacoustic composition. Passing through looped gestures, electronic processes, and concrete sound explorations, it investigates textures that blur the line between organic and synthetic, emphasizing subtle timbral shifts, evolving patterns, and the interaction between chance and structure. Fragile, immersive, and at times meditative, the music opens a space where the listener can inhabit both the immediacy of performance and the expanded sound world of electronic manipulation. Solo Suono is a phrase open to multiple interpretations, a naïve description of music.

There are constellations within the grooves of Cymbalom Solos. Innumerable points of light, rendered audible in glowing, radiant sound. There are entire worlds too - undiscovered, yet familiar - both terrestrial and celestial. There are moments of quiet comfort and exultant discovery. And all of it conjured by one man with a handful of ancient and invented instruments, recorded mostly-live, with precious few overdubs. Michael Masley has been a fixture of Berkeley, California, since he arrived from Michigan in 1982. Even today, he remains a common sight, working as a street performer - catching the attention of passers-by as he summons otherworldly overtones from a coterie of arcane instruments. This is how he met fellow east-coast transplant and musical voyager, Barry Cleveland, in 1983. Cleveland was enraptured by the sound of Masley’s wildly innovative bowhammer cymbalom. The cymbalom is an ancient instrument, similar to a zither or hammered-dulcimer - originating in Eastern Europe in 1874, but with primitive early examples dating back as early as 3500 BC. Yet Masley’s approach to the instrument was wholly original. Masley replaced the two traditional cymbalom hammers, with bowhammers - an invention wherein he fitted each of his fingers with it’s own combination hammer/bow device, which allowed him to both strike the strings, and bow them like a violin. Outfitted with his bowhammers, Masley was able to wrest startlingly new sounds from a centuries-old instrument. In 1985, after performing together for a couple years, Cleveland produced Masley’s first solo endeavour, Cymbalom Solos. With the help of Cleveland’s timely production, Masley’s technique reached its zenith. His complex and beautiful compositions combined elements of Eastern-European classical, new minimalism, and celtic/folk music, yet the end result falls squarely within the world of new age kosmiche. Music of the spheres, conjured by earthbound strings. Masley estimates that he sold tens-of-thousands of cassette copies of Cymbalom Solos over his years of performing. And now, Morning Trip is distinctly proud to offer it on vinyl for the first time ever - an album of startling, imaginative beauty, by a brilliant American folk artist.

From the visionary collaboration of Japanese New Age master Ken-ichiro Isoda and electronic music magician aus (Yasuhiko Fukuzono). Minimalism distilled, ambient environmental music that soothes the mind and kindles the spirit.

Drawing on Isoda’s deep legacy (notably his legendary work on Oscilation Circuit – Série Réflexion 1 from mythical label Sound Process) and fused with aus’ spellbinding melodies, Interwoven is ethereal healing sound: lingering piano, soft cinematic synths, field recordings that feel like whispered memories, while flutes and saxophone pass by, bringing a subtle breath of wind and the warmth of human touch.

This is music for those who cherish the delicate beauty of life — and for fans of Satoshi Ashikawa, Midori Takada, Satsuki Shibano, Hiroshi Yoshimura, Takashi Kokubo, Brian Eno… lovers of nature, reflection, and daydreams.

Interwoven is a collaboration that bridges their generation and the physical distance between them.

Tokyo based producer aus works with synthesizers and electronic processing, while ISODA, living on Hachijo Island, writes scores for wind instruments, harp, and other acoustic instruments.

The project began with aus’ sketches like images of water, the sea, and islands, but gradually shifted into an exchange of sound without explanation. That trace of anonymity created a kind of freedom that neither had in their own work.

ISODA is known not only as a leading figure in Japanese ambient music, but also for his work as a music producer & composer for contemporary music, and game music creator. aus brings a distinctly current sensibility shaped by his background in electronic music.

The second compilation of FORM@ RECORDS. Although this work hasn't decided on a particular direction, it's a wonderful album that naturally gathers pure things and far surpasses the previous work.

Following Virgo's Landform Code and Remnants, we're happy to continue our collaboration with with FORM@T RECORDS.

Various Artists

Art Form I

Limited Edition Double LP.

First ever vinyl release of the unheralded classic compilation from 1997.

From the vaults of cult Japanese label FORM@ RECORDS.

A fascinating dive into Tokyo’s electronic music underground of the late 90s - timeless and unique IDM, techno, ambient, acid.

For fans of Warp’s Artificial Intelligence series, Ken Ishii, Carl Craig, B12, The Black Dog, deep electronic music, experimental soundscapes, time capsules of underground music movements.

Also available: Virgo albums Landform Code and Remnants, FORM@ compilations Art Form 2 and Re-Form Ver-1.0

The second beautiful album by the duo of Jessika Kenney — a vocalist known for her haunting timbral sense, as well as her profound interpretation of Persian vocal traditions, and Eyvind Kang — a violist for whom the act of music and learning is a spiritual discipline.

""Work of delicate beauty, as pristine as the surface of a lake at dawn on a summer's morning." —TheQuietus

"ujung jari balung rondhoning kelapa wineng kuwa sayekti dadya usada

The slender inner spine of the coconut leaf Binding together, becoming useful

The compositions on this album are about drawing the binary from the unary, like reflections from a mirror, and its inverse, the concealed unity. Listener/reader, translation/composition, memory/imagination- reflecting each other, they open up a current which flows in a sudden oscillation.

Here we have followed a geological image; in the expression of the face of the earth (from Pr. "rokh-e khåk"), a new spectrum of binaries is revealed. In the Classical Persian traditions, this can be found in the dynamic multiplicity exemplified by the term 'radif', used in both poetry and music, as both poeme and matheme.

We would invite the listener as reader, by making our "reading cards" in the insert, to become a participant in the creation of meaning, including translation processes which seek corresponding musical atmospheres, for example:

The Central Javanese Wangsalan is a kind of riddle(two lines, 12 syllables each, divided 4 and 8), sung by the female vocalist in the gamelan, often using images of natural phenomena alongside descriptions of human characteristics, invoking atmospheres of primordial knowledge, humor, heightened sensation, philosophy, with much hidden wordplay and reference.

Alan Vega’s self-titled debut solo album was released in 1980 during the same period Suicide released their second album, Suicide: Alan Vega and Martin Rev. While Suicide’s label ZE Records was interested in pushing the duo toward a synthetic disco sound inspired by Moroder’s production on Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love,” Vega felt a pull in a different direction. He wanted to dig deeper into the roots of his own sonic identity, fueled by rockabilly, early rock n roll, and his enduring love for Elvis Presley. Filling the gaps between recording with Suicide, and fleshing out the songs he was writing on his own, Vega started to create his first record and performing live to develop this sound.

As with his visual art, Vega layered sound in a minimalist, dynamic and intentional way. The result was a fiercely singular album built from raw materials and deeply rooted in Vega’s artistic vision. Tracks like the classic anthem “Jukebox Babe” with its jiving rhythm and minimalist swagger, captured that approach completely and went on to become a hit in France. “Kung Foo Cowboy” takes on a southern twist, strongly leaning into the blues, while the golden pop shine of “Ice Drummer” rings in melodic yet plaintive vocals, marching drums and a tasteful harmonica solo. “Bye Bye Bayou” is a haunted slice of mutant rockabilly that fuses 50s rock with Vega’s eccentric performance style and was later reimagined in the 2009 cover by LCD Soundsystem, introducing Vega’s solo work to a new generation. Similarly, The Flaming Lips’s 1994 cover of “Ice Drummer” paid homage to Vega’s outsider spirit.

Now remastered by Josh Bonati from the original tapes and available on streaming services for the first time, Alan Vega has been faithfully reissued by Sacred Bones Records, preserving the raw intensity of Vega’s original recordings while making them newly accessible to listeners around the world.

Alan Vega is more than a solo debut, it’s a declaration of artistic independence and freedom from one of New York’s most influential and uncompromising artists. Stripped of Suicide’s intense electronics yet retaining Vega’s outsider energy and edge, the album translates early rock 'n roll through an art-punk filter that stands the test of time as a cult masterpiece in its own right.

5-CD box set presenting virtually all of Morton Feldman'smusic for solo piano. Performed by Philip Thomas, who also writes a 52-page booklet that is included in the box (and a pdf of the booklet is included with download sales)

Artwork by David Ainley

Morton Feldman's three long pieces for flute, piano and percussion, played by the GBSR Duo (Siwan Rhys & George Barton) with Taylor MacLennan on flutes. Why Patterns? (1979) 30 minutes, Crippled Symmetry (1982) 90 minutes and For Philip Guston (1984) 280 minutes.

"The works contained in this box set occupy a special place within the context of Morton Feldman’s oeuvre, written as they were for Feldman’s ‘house ensemble’ at the University of Buffalo from the late 1970s onwards: Morton Feldman and Soloists. Flutes, piano/celesta and percussion is an idiosyncratic combination of instruments that Feldman came ultimately to favour. Indeed of Why Patterns? he said in 1983 “I never dreamt to write one of my most important pieces with that combination”; but in his last decade Feldman wrote multiple chamber works for identical forces only twice: the two string quartets, and the three trios presented here.

What a contrast – where the string quartet offers an abundance of woody timbres, this ensemble is glacial, dominated by simple, almost sine-tone-like sonorities. Percussion could be anything, but the pure metallic sounds of the vibraphone and glockenspiel dominate, with tubular bells and marimba introduced in Guston but rarely used. The ensemble seems almost an embodiment of Feldman’s spectacular statement from 1984’s The Future of Local Music “I’m not interested in colour”.

Yet in exploring the timbral etiolation this unusual trio affords, Feldman discovers an unexpected world of delicate tinctures where harmony and colour interact and become almost indistinguishable. Notably, immediately after stating “I’m not interested in colour,” Feldman continues by remarking on Schoenberg’s observations about the interaction between pitch and timbre: “he says that timbre is the prince of the domain, that the resulting timbre is to some degree more important than the pitch itself, as we think of pitch. That’s a very important idea.”

Perhaps it’s no surprise then that this ensemble, with its uniquely refined timbral combination, held the role of crucible for Feldman’s important compositional ideas in the transition into his fully-fledged late period.

For Philip Guston: The close friendship between Morton Feldman and the painter Philip Guston collapsed in 1970, an estrangement that would endure until the painter’s death in 1980. Four years later Feldman would dedicate this contemplative epic to his late friend and to their lost friendship; a work that conjures an emotionally complex world of hazy perceptions and hazier reflections.

As the hushed tones of piano, flutes, celeste and metallic percussion cluster in complex soft-focus rhythms, at some points cohering around snatches of melody, at others scattering to explore seemingly unrelated ideas, Feldman explores the limits of memory and half-recollection – traversing and re-traversing the same terrain, but with deceptively sure tread leading the listener towards a poignant, perhaps devastating, conclusion."

Young Anglo-German composer Eden Lonsdale returns to Another Timbre with this startling double-album, writing immersive, long-form experiments that question instrumentation, space and harmony in collaboration with Apartment House, Oerkal and Ensemble Ipse. RIYL Arvo Pärt, Morton Feldman or Gavin Bryars.

There's a softly-spoken quality to Lonsdale's compositions that we identified immediately when we copped his brilliant debut, 'Clear and Hazy Moons', last year. He pares his sound back even further on 'Dawnings', that's conceptually rooted in its three string pieces: 'Aura' (for solo cello), 'Cloud Symmetries' (for four violins) and 'Shedding' (for seven violas). Each piece is minimal in its own way, but pushes the instrumentation to its limits by extending the harmonic versatility; 'Aurora', for example, is performed by (and written especially for) Anton Lukoszevieze and uses an experimental technique for a cello tuned in just intonation, where the player can extract resonant chordal sounds just by varying the pressure in their left hand. And for a solo piece it's strikingly rich, even when compared with the ensemble pieces, its fictile, scraped moans splitting the difference between archaic Northern European folk and intimate chamber music.

Lonsdale's motions are clearer though on 'Shedding', a collaboration with Brooklyn's Ensemble Ipse that queers a simple three note melody with microtonal alterations that create justly tuned intervals. It's clever stuff on a formal level, and to our ears just works so beautifully, widening the aspect ratio and deepening the sense of longing with its poignant, gentle phrasing and obscured harmonics. Lonsdale intersperses the string pieces with more varied orchestrations: 'Dawnings' (for clarinet and piano), and 'Constellations' (for organ, with flute, clarinet, percussion and strings). The latter is particularly startling; Lonsdale imagined the composition as a spacialized installation of sorts, with the players scattered in small groups around the venue. Even in stereo, the concept comes to live as he layers the various sounds, using the organ's powerful tones to anchor the additional instruments as they overlap and create distinct tonal clouds.

It's a magical listening experience, honestly - one that shows Lonsdale's full range as a composer and has our heads spinning. Quite how he manages to balance the drama and restraint without sounding repetitive or schmaltzy is a genuine achievement, it's music that prioritizes texture and space, but still sounds harmonically captivating.

A defiant new recording of one of Morton Feldman's most disarming compositions, Apartment House's 'Violin and String Quartet' captures the icy character of the instruments, melting time into fuzzed memory. When Feldman began producing durational works in the late 1970s, he managed to confound even his most dedicated friends and followers. Steve Reich famously lost touch with his cohort during this period, later regretting it when he gave the compositions time to sink in - he eventually conceded that 1985's 'Piano and String Quartet' was "the most beautiful work of his that I know." 'Violin and String Quartet' was written the same year, only two years before Feldman died, and evolves slowly, lasting two and a quarter hours. This fresh interpretation from Apartment House is different from previous recordings, close-miking each instrument to emphasize the tiny variations in sound: the little earthquakes that lend drama to the composition's watery flow. One of Feldman's prettiest pieces, it's aptly elevated by Apartment House's refined technique. If you heard the ensemble's rendition of 'Piano and String Quartet' from 2021, 'Violin and String Quartet' is a worthy follow-up. Their expertise with NYC minimalism is well documented at this point, and feeds into the effortlessness they exude while soldiering through the piece's duration. Billowing clouds of harmony replace any expected "vocal" themes, and the piece hangs in the air, reshaping time rather than commanding attention. Apartment House use microscopic magnification to help us perceive Feldman's original vision; the composer was obsessed with natural reverb and the physical decay of his instrumentation, and gave the composition plenty of negative space for these elements to bleed into the foreground. Here, Apartment House treat the pauses with reverence, leaving the echoes and traces to imprint themselves into the recording. Melodies and phrases twist into bubbling whirlpools of bowed fluctuations that appear and reappear throughout the piece, rhyming with previous segments and creating disarming pockets of sonic deja vu. Feldman asks us to reconsider the act of listening, lulling us into an elevated state. Apartment House give us the experience of hearing the music as if in the same room, concentrating on the bows on the strings and how they interact with the environment. It's a form of meditation that requires focus, but also an ability to release yourself from temporal concerns for a couple of hours - right now, that's never been more important.

Two Pianos and Other Pieces 1953-1969 collects the most experimental and beautiful works for multiple pianos from Morton Feldman’s formative years, exhuming scores rarely captured before - including “Two Pianos,” “Piece for Four Pianos,” “Piano Four Hands,” “Piano Three Hands,” and “Two Pieces for Three Pianos.” Led by pianists John Tilbury and Philip Thomas, the ensemble expands with strings, brass, and percussion, depending on the piece. This collection shines during passages of radical quietness, microscopic shifts in texture, and dramatically suspended time - hallmarks of Feldman’s search for an elastic music both shorn of narrative and dense in acoustic intrigue. Each piano work in the set privileges the instrument’s decay, color, and afterlife, using soft dynamics and open textures to lead performers into a phenomenological engagement, “as much about listening as playing.” Notes hover in limpid suspension; chords and clusters bloom and vanish in reverberant spaces. Feldman’s notational experiments with time - free durations, coordinated ensemble decay, unorthodox alignments - led him to invent forms where narrative is replaced by attention and depth is measured in the smallest changes of sound. Quietness is essential, but not the subject: the focus is on what sound does in space, how it transforms under touch, and how ensemble musicianship can dissolve boundaries between performer, score, and environment. The album stands as an essential addition to Feldman’s recorded legacy - a chamber adventure where collective listening, spectral nuance, and compositional radicalism shape every gesture. The performances are supremely sensitive, satisfying Feldman’s still-radical aims with restraint, clarity, and palpable intimacy. In these pieces, piano music reaches its apotheosis as exploration - of instrument, ensemble, and the outermost edge of musical time.

A 72-minute realisation of 'Intermission 6' (1953), one of the most open of Feldman's piano works. The piece was realised in October 2024 by Antti Tolvi.

The score consists of a single page with 15 events (chords or single notes) which can be played in any order, and can be performed by one or two pianists. Feldman writes that “The pianist, or pianists, begins with any sound on the page, will hold until barely audible, then proceed to whichever other sound he may choose. Sounds may be repeated.”

Most performances of 'Intermission 6' are between 4 and 10 minutes, but Antti Tolvi extends the piece to a duration more typical of Feldman's later music.

Catherine Lamb works at the boundary between perception and illusion. In Curva Triangulus (2018/21), the American composer takes Bridget Riley's geometric forms as starting point for "warping" Renaissance materials through geometric musical figures. The result is a 41-minute composition for eight instruments where the distinction between melody and harmony dissolves: one generates the other, rather than existing as separate entities. The score demands an exceptional ensemble. Bern's Ensemble Proton has access to extremely rare instruments: the arciorgano (Vicentino's 16th-century microtonal organ), a baroque triple harp (Barberini model), lupophone, contraforte, and clarinet d'amore. These combine with flute, cor anglais, bassoon, violin, and cello in an asymmetrical octet. The absence of piano and presence of the bellows-driven arciorgano subverts the ensemble's traditional balance, with the organ supporting the entire score from below. Lamb imagined a late Renaissance position of musical perception, warped by Riley's triangles and shapes in multidimensional space. Italian composer Zarlino hovers as phantom presence (with echoes of Marc Sabat's Gioseffo Zarlino surfacing), while Rameau's intuition about the sounding body remains just beyond the historical horizon. The baroque triple harp acts as "free flowing agent," articulating the progression of clearer contrapuntal triadic material in the foreground. Ensemble musicians alternate roles as active generators and passive harmonizers, always in relation to one another. In the revised version (completed winter 2020/21), these roles are distributed more evenly, adding timbral and intentional diversity. Richard Haynes introduces clarinet d'amore, while Elise Jacoberger contrasts bassoon and contraforte more distinctly. The ensemble includes Bettina Berger (flute, alto flute), Martin Bliggenstorfer (cor anglais, lupophone), Vera Schnider (triple harp), Coco Schwarz (arciorgano), Maximilian Haft (violin), and Jan-Filip Ťupa (cello). Recorded at Guebwiller Cathedral, France in May 2023 by sound engineer Ingo Schmidt-Lucas, Curva Triangulus is the latest in Lamb's extensive Another Timbre catalog, following parallaxis forma, Prisma Interius VIII, string quartets with JACK Quartet, and earlier works. Dusted Magazine notes the composition possesses "undeniable and immediate beauty" with "leisurely pace allowing room for experiments," offering both deep listening challenges and accessible pleasure.

Apartment House's latest set is a hypnotic rendition of Morton Feldman's towering late-period masterpiece, originally recorded in 1991 by Kronos Quartet and Aki Takahashi and here performed by Mark Knoop (piano), Mira Benjamin & Gordon Mackay (violins), Bridget Carey (viola) and Anton Lukoszevieze (cello). When Morton Feldman wrote "Piano and String Quartet" in 1985, only two years before he died of pancreatic cancer, he had Kronos Quartet and Aki Takahashi in mind, but the piece has been recorded many times since it was released in 1993, and has been endlessly influential, like much of Feldman's work. On this rendition, the dynamic range is tempered with piano and strings fluttering delicately like a whisper over a silence that feels omnipresent. When notes appear from the void, they do so with purpose, hanging like ghosts before slipping away into the aether. Anton Lukoszevieze, leader of Apartment House, explains why he chose to record the piece: "Piano and String Quartet, one of Feldman’s final works, is a seemingly simple work and yet it isn’t. As Philip Guston, a great friend of Feldman, wrote ‘Frustration is one of the great things in art; satisfaction is nothing.’ The length of the work (nearly 80 minutes) and the erasure of musical memory (What did we just hear?) is in fact its identity. Feldman makes simple statements, a piano arpeggio or a sustained string chord, holds these things and examines them over time. Gradually, as the sun’s light moves across a still life through the day, like a drawn out Morandi painting, the work evolves and indeed dissolves in some sense. Using different transformative processes, Feldman illuminates his basic material and achieves the miraculous, an extended work of great beauty and enigmatic wonder. There are ghosts there, tinctures of late Schubert, Brahms and even Janaček, where beauty is a signature of passing time and an ephemeral focus on hearing and disappearing."

Feldman’s late-style aesthetics distilled to their purest form in the chamber work Piano, Violin, Viola, Cello. A quiet labyrinth of abstraction, like an aural equivalent of abstract painting.

The archive is not neutral. In 2019, Andrea Centazzo discovered unlabeled tape reels in his mother's attic in Udine - boxes assumed lost seven years earlier. What emerged from these deteriorating reels, transferred by engineer Sergio Tomasini during COVID lockdowns, was unexpected: unreleased recordings from the original Elektriktus sessions of 1973-76, alongside other archival materials including previously unknown collaborations with Steve Lacy and Evan Parker from the same period.Centazzo's solution was conceptually elegant: add contemporary digital electronics to the original analog Elektriktus recordings, creating temporal palimpsest in which the seventy-something composer engages in dialogue with his younger self. Crucially, his fundamental approach hasn't changed. "Making a 10-minute loop meant playing and overdubbing for 10 minutes!" This rejection of computer automation, this insistence on the hand-played and physically executed, links 2025 to 1975 through continuous methodology.Vol. 2 operates in complex register: contemporary electronics don't "update" the original recordings but exist in conversation with them. By overlaying 2025 digital work onto 1975 analog recordings, Centazzo creates proof that affinities between cosmic drift and percussive grounding were present in the original conception, waiting to be heard.The reborn Ictus label presents both volumes as complementary documents: Vol. 1 preserving the original artifact in its analog integrity, Vol. 2 revealing latent possibilities through temporal superimposition. Together, they map territory that standard histories have overlooked - the Italian synthesis of kosmische consciousness and Mediterranean sensibility.This temporal doubling produces music that is neither nostalgic recreation nor radical revision but something more complex - a conversation between past and present, between the composer who created these sounds in the mid-1970s and the artist who now understands their full implications. The phantom that PDU Records once denied a proper name finally speaks, twice, across fifty years.

In the summer of 1976, a peculiar album appeared in Italian record shops bearing no artist name - only the cryptic moniker Elektriktus. The music posed a question that wouldn't be answered for decades: who had created this hybrid of jazz sensibility and kosmische synthesis? The answer was hiding in plain sight. Andrea Centazzo - recognized figure in European free improvisation who had shared stages with Steve Lacy, Evan Parker, and Derek Bailey - had been leading a double life between touring with Giorgio Gaslini's quartet, conducting experiments with Minimoog, Davolisint, and the GEM Rodeo 49 synthesizer.

PDU Records - owned by pop icon Mina and Italy's primary distributor for German avant-garde labels including Brain, Kosmische Musik, and Pilz, making PDU the Italian gateway to Ash Ra Tempel, Popol Vuh, Cosmic Jokers, and the broader kosmische scene, often releasing these albums in prestigious Quadraphonic editions - recognized the value of what Centazzo had created but worried his jazz identity would confuse the cosmic electronics market. The solution: create Elektriktus as pseudonym, fusing "electronic" with "Ictus," the name Centazzo would give to his own label and percussion series.

Where German kosmische musik tended toward the infinite and abstract - Conrad Schnitzler's austere minimalism, Tangerine Dream's sequencer-driven expanses - Centazzo's electronic music retained tactile, physical quality. Franco Feruglio's upright bass walks and breathes, remembering northern Italian folk traditions. Centazzo's percussion maintains the rhythmic intelligence of jazz improvisation even when filtered through electronics. Electronic Mind Waves presents a heady dive into mystical electronics at the intersection of kosmische consciousness and jazz improvisation. Each of the eight tracks unfolds as its own sonic meditation, incorporating otherworldly themes through wild synth lines played against meandering bass patterns and Centazzo's driving yet nuanced percussion - pushing the listener into cosmic spaces while maintaining the tactile, almost physical quality that distinguishes Italian cosmic music from its German counterparts.

These eight synth-fueled tracks sound close to what kraut/cosmische heads were doing at the time - think Conrad Schnitzler, Deuter, or Cosmic Jokers, and also other European experimentalists like Richard Pinhas' Heldon, Spacecraft, Didier Bocquet, Seesselberg, F.G. Experimental Laboratory, Roberto Cacciapaglia, or Hydrus. Elektriktus represents the most adventurous experimental sounds under kosmische influence to emerge from Italy. What made Electronic Mind Waves significant wasn't imitation of German models, but transformation of them through Mediterranean sensibility and freeform jazz ethos.

The album's 1976 appearance came at a pivotal moment. Rock Progressivo Italiano - the movement that had produced the political complexity of Area, the folk-inflected experimentation of Stormy Six, the symphonic ambitions of Le Orme - was entering terminal crisis. Elektriktus arrived into this collapse: anonymous, difficult to market, structurally uncommercial. Poor distribution ensured its swift disappearance. But as often happens with prematurely buried artifacts, the album acquired an afterlife in collector circles, becoming whispered legend - a forgotten electronic gem that not only reflected the Italian craze for space synth, but looked north to the genius of electronic Krautrockers while maintaining distinctly Mediterranean character.

Strongly recommended to fans of minimal electronic music, kosmische sounds and ambient soundscapes.

Edition of 300. Includes 8-page booklet. In 1969, while American minimalism was consolidating into its most recognizable forms, Charlemagne Palestine was conducting solitary experiments with oscillators and sine waves that only now reveal their visionary scope. This was the New York of lofts and abandoned industrial spaces, of artists pushing sound toward its physical limits -- a city where the boundaries between music, performance art, and bodily endurance were dissolving. Battling the Invisible unearths two electronic studies from that crucial year, paired with rare 1972 Bösendorfer sessions -- a document that illuminates the passage from pure electronics to the keyboard as an instrument of prolonged ecstasy. "Low Sounds 3" opens the record with fifteen minutes of low frequencies that seem to emerge from the very foundations of the sonic edifice. There is no development in the traditional sense, but a static presence that gradually colonizes the listening space. Think Eliane Radigue's meditative drone work filtered through a raw, almost brutalist sensibility. "Sine Tone Study" on Side B extends this practice for nearly nineteen minutes -- sine waves overlapping, creating beating patterns, zones of interference explored with the patience of an entomologist. The two 1972 Bösendorfer fragments function as bridges toward the Palestine the world knows better -- the strumming ecstasies, the hypnotic accumulation of overtones, the piano as a vehicle for transcendence. Here the physical approach to the keyboard is already evident -- what he would describe as a "battle." This release is part of Alga Marghen's The Golden Research series -- a concept devised by Palestine himself around the idea of "perfect sound." The series focuses exclusively on completely unreleased archival materials, bringing to light legendary recordings that have never been heard before. The LP includes a 8-page interview conducted by Sumner Crane and Rudolph Grey in January 1979 at Palestine's NYC loft, with Arto Lindsay present, later redacted by Alan Licht. The insert is an anastatic reproduction of the original 12-page typescript. Unfiltered, explosive -- Palestine on violence, on the body as battleground, on his Brooklyn childhood. Essential reading.

John McGuire's Double String Trios presents three major late works for two string trios, composed between 2012 and 2021. His musical roots lie in the electronic studios of postwar Cologne, shaped through studies with Karlheinz Stockhausen and Krzysztof Penderecki, and grounded in the traditions of European serialism. Working with synthesizers capable of generating up to 1,800 pulses per second, McGuire developed a beautifully harmonious, crystalline music, shaped by the ear into a world of flowing continuities between one point and the next. Transferred to stringed instruments, that world becomes infinitely more complex-suffused with the richness and impurities of human players and their acoustic technologies. Conceived as two facing string trios in antiphonal dialogue, the music links studio spatial thinking with older split-ensemble traditions, unfolding through Fibonacci proportions, rotating tempi, shifting meters, and continual harmonic transposition.

Acclaimed Californian harpist Nailah Hunter unites with debuting theremin player Alia Mohamed for a hauntingly minimalist performance of Harold Budd's "The Pavilion of Dreams". The rendition concept was initially conceived and performed by the two musicians for the Nov 3rd 2024 edition of Leaving Records' seminal outdoor community concert series Listen to Music Outside in the Daylight Under a Tree in Los Angeles California. Nailah Hunter writes: "It was such a blissful experience getting to play in the golden light of the park that afternoon with Alia. We’d been exploring this piece together for a few years prior to the performance. The uniquely curious and misty quality of the piece is what initially drew me in and the bold and imaginative changes voiced in the harp part are what kept me coming back for more. It felt euphoric to finally get to share our sonic vision with folks we knew already appreciated the original work."

Anichy & Lyemn reduce electronic sound to patient, glowing essentials: slow harmonic rhythm, canons, repetitive phrases and gently shifting layers, across two unreleased remix pieces that treat minimalism less as a genre tag than a way of feeling time stretch and fold.Tip! Rather than chasing maximal impact, Anichy & Lyemn opens in a low glow, letting electronic minimalism breathe through slow harmonic rhythm, canons and looping cells, as layers slide over one another in patient, hypnotic shifts that prize focus and detail over spectacle.The opening track takes its cue from the glassy, urban side of minimalism - the world of long, bright arpeggios, additive patterns and quietly insistent pulse that once colonised loft spaces, galleries and, later, cinema screens. Here those ideas are rerouted through contemporary electronics: stacked keyboard figures become soft-synth constellations, their outlines blurred by filter movement and subtle modulation. As the canons unfold, each entry is processed differently so that the same phrase appears as a series of related but not identical voices. The effect is like watching a skyline through passing weather systems: the architecture remains, but its emotional charge keeps changing.The second piece turns toward the earthy, process-driven strain of minimalism that grew out of tape experiments, hand-played percussion and non-Western rhythmic thinking. Instead of directly echoing that history, Anichy & Lyemn translate it into a digital ritual of offsets and micro-shifts. Short electronic cells - clicks, muted mallet tones, distant pads - are set running in overlapping loops of slightly different lengths, so that the resulting pattern is never quite the same from one minute to the next. Phase-like relationships appear and dissolve; accents migrate; what began as a simple lattice of pulses gradually thickens into a dense but breathable web of sound. Underneath it all, the harmonic pace remains unhurried, each change arriving like a new room opened within the same building.Crucially, Anichy & Lyemn is not a technical exercise but an emotional one. By committing to repetition and restricted materials, invite listeners to tune into nuance: the way a delayed entry in the canon can feel like an echo of a thought, or how a tiny detuning between layers can introduce a note of unease.

Point/Wave represents a rare confluence of precision and open inquiry, as Catherine Lamb’s composition for Cristián Alvear translates the enigmatic condition of sound into tactile experience. Commissioned by Alvear and realized on Another Timbre, Lamb’s score meditates on her signature just intonation, deploying the Secondary Rainbow Synthesizer to generate four environmental chords that breathe around the guitar’s modally tuned strings. The electronics hum and fade - reflecting timbral shifts from the ambient world even as their cycles remain unpredictable to the performer. What takes shape is both spectral and grounded. Lamb’s deliberate exclusion of fifth-based harmonics yields a palette unrecognizable to most ears: intervals built from the 3rd, 7th, 11th, and 31st harmonics inhabit the margins of conventional tonality, producing subtle microtonal undulations. The guitar, tuned to ratios outside standard temperaments, carves out harmonies less from assertion than from emergence, as each elongated cycle hints at an absent fundamental, which may manifest only in the mind of the listener. The score directs Alvear through open-string harmonics and sparse fretted notes, creating a microtonal lattice whose contours morph subtly with every gesture. Interaction with the electronics - sometimes sourced from processed field recordings - ensures that each performance is unique, anchored in dialogue with the environment. The result is a form Lamb calls “the long introduction,” reminiscent of alap in Indian classical music, yet in Point/Wave, there is no destination - only continuous unfolding. Produced by Giacomo Fiore and Lanier Sammons in a San Francisco studio, the recording prioritizes live interaction, using amplifiers to really make the electronics vibrate in space. Listeners are drawn into a quietly radical exploration: time dilates, the ear adjusts, and focus deepens as acoustic detail and ambient drift intermingle. Point/Wave stands thus as a testament to Lamb and Alvear’s devotion to the possibility that, as form recedes from necessity, attention alone can become an instrument of transformation.

Viola Torros is more than a historical reference - it is an ongoing collaboration between Catherine Lamb and Johnny Chang, centered around the research, arrangement, and interpretation of fragments attributed to the mysterious composer Viola Torros. While the project suggests an archaeological recovery of lost medieval works filtered through Arabic, Byzantine, and Indian modal traditions, the underlying narrative is a playful fiction - Torros herself appears to be a fictional construct, allowing Lamb and Chang to chart their own creative lineage and methodology. The first disc showcases intricate viola duets, blending drone-infused textures and sparse melodic snippets. These “augmentations” are designed to evoke the feeling of ancient music without directly imitating historic forms. Lamb and Chang’s approach is analytical but open-hearted: they highlight the simultaneous existence of cohabiting tones, shifts in intonation, and the delicate emergence of melody from within constrained harmonic frameworks. Supporting musicians - including Bryan Eubanks, Rebecca Lane, Annie Garlid, and others - add subtle color via electronics and voice, dissolving the boundary between composition and arrangement. The second disc steps into contemporary territory: Johnny Chang’s “Citaric Melodies III” is performed by Suidobashi Chamber Ensemble, an octet that blends winds and strings in a gentle network of sustained tension and release. Catherine Lamb’s “Prisma Interius VI for v.t.” completes the set with an immersive harmonic field shaped by her secondary rainbow synthesizer, cello, and layered viola resonance. Throughout the project, Lamb and Chang’s capacity for patience and depth comes to the fore. Their music is slow-moving but never static, alive to the spectral richness of just intonation and the performative possibilities of friction, resonance, and shared listening. By inventing and inhabiting the world of Viola Torros, they offer a model for reconstructing musical heritage - one that values poetic intuition over scholarly certainty and uses creative fiction to generate genuinely new musical experience.