MUSIC

Originally released in the wake of ML Buch's art-pop modern classic 'Suntub', "Suntub Extras" paints in similar shades, fixing up its precision-engineered sketches in a personal space between Kate Bush's 'Hounds of Love', OPN's 'Replica' and Cocteau Twins' 'Victorialand'. Without the pop accouterments that made 'Suntub' so tantalizing to the almost-mainstream, Buch's tangled productions lay bare the various ingredients that have shaped her taste over the years. Fleetwood Mac was maybe the most obvious reference back in 2023 and undoubtedly her vocal harmonies and precision songwriting looped right back into the radio rock of the '70s and '80s, but strip the vocal away and something very different emerges. Her repeating guitar phrases - heard so vividly on the gorgeous 'Sway walking' - sound far more meditative and moving when they're isolated, decoupling the music from AOR and jacking it directly into the new age continuum. Here, Buch has more in common with Daniel Lopatin (or even Mark McGuire), playing out familiar riffs but treating them as if they're Reichian iterations. She introduces a larger (laptop-powered) ensemble on 'Suncrumb trail, Staging', providing a virtual tune-up with willowy guitars, boxy drums and that warm fretless bass that was all over 'Hounds of Love'. But as soon as any of these tracks seem to move towards their goal, Buch inevitably cuts away to a different scene. Here, she diverts our ears to alt-rock pastiche 'Growing eyes, Blade of cloud, Rolling chill', caking her Rembrants guitars in tape echo before picking up the thread again on the generous 'Moving Light, Change', a slo-mo reverie that provides the album with its thematic apex. But it's the brief finale that has our hearts; on the impeccably-titled 'Halfdark, Slow blinking', Buch accurately duplicates Robin Guthrie's groggy processes, strumming decelerated chords into cavernous echoes.

Emboldened by the success of the recent reissue of It's Cosy Inside, Mark and Clive had a listen to hundreds of previously unreleased tracks recorded in the 70s and 80s to assemble their first new record in two decades, When The Past Arrives, out in March from Drag City / Yoga Records.

With comparisons to Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Animal Collective, Cluster, and Brian Eno, WOO's profile in the world of atemporal music has been growing for years. For the lucky few who know, like Fela, or Neu!, WOO has their own instantly recognizable vibrantly pulsing sound, a quiet sound of comfort and contentment.

If we got something good happening it would continue into the early hours. I remember one morning waking up still sitting at my keyboard, the phone as my pillow. The woman below us would thump the ceiling with a broom handle when she got sick of the noise, so that influenced a lot of what we could do and how we would work: drums became triangles, clarinets were played real breathy, guitars were plucked, not strummed. Even hitting the keyboard keys were not to be struck too hard. This new album is mainly a result of these late night recordings. Soft melodic compositions created on either piano or guitar, then multi tracked with improvisations and harmonic patterns. -- Clive

When The Past Arrives is a collection of deceptively airy jams, addictive, crystalline. Uncut called It's Cosy Inside "the epitome of domestic bliss," and Pitchfork observed the album "stakes itself on the premise that the most cosmic and revelatory experiences you'll ever have will all happen between your house and the backyard." As if to answer, the Ives brothers selected a vocal track to complete the album, which asks,

"How far out, will you go today
up the garden path?" 

"Nuno Canavarro's Plux Quba hails from three decades in the past, yet the simple profile of its abstract/ambient/cutup collage makes it a record that sits quite comfortably in our IDM-informed future. In 1988, Plux Quba was a primal dark horse in the world of pants-forward electronic music -- an obscurity issued with little explanation from the laid-back west coast of Europe: Portugal, of all places! -- though the casual listener could hardly know that from an examination of the LP jacket. The vanguard of electronics in late-80s Europe was being pushed by organizations like Nurse With Wound, The Hafler Trio, HNAS -- and yet, when Christoph Heemann came across this recording, it struck his ears and the ears of fellow listeners like nothing before. Plux Quba was handed around between the principles of the early '90s A-Musik scene: Jan St. Werner, C-Schulz, Frank Dommert, Georg Odijk, plus interested fellow travelers like Jim O'Rourke, to the intense curiosity of all. To ears that were already saturated with all things kraut, the dark corners of prog and the frontline of experimental and improvised music, it proved elusive. Not simply in how it sounded and how that sound was achieved, but in where it was coming from -- like later Robert Ashley at times; certain stretches of melody recalled some of Eno's ambient pieces -- but mostly, it was a completely alien soundscape! And who was it? Was the band called Plux Quba? The record? The label? These sorts of mysteries are at the heart of records that require close listening and re-listening. As it was absorbed, it grew to be an influence on the Köln sound -- Mouse On Mars, Lithops, and Heemann's many and varied projects -- as well as O'Rourke, Fennesz and many others. Music and sound of this nature have for many years been made available by bands like Autechre, labels like Mille Plateaux -- but for the first ten years of its existence, Plux Quba was rarely heard. O'Rourke reissued it as the first record on his Moikai label in 1998, and it had a good run through around 2005 before the last of the print parts were filled. It's been almost a decade since Plux Quba was available, which is way too long considering that we live in an era where it is necessary to have an LP of this on hand for your contemporary listening distractions. And so, Drag City has stepped in to reissue the Moikai reissue of Nuno Canavarro's classic Plux Quba."

In Cyano, synthesist and composer Emily A. Sprague questions self, other, ecology, and life in a distant realm. Conjured around the idea of an imagined planet whose inhabitants are rebuilding forbidden capacities for expressivity and emotional connection, Cyano is a meditation on visibility, psychic transformation, light transmission, and worlds beyond our knowing materialized through an intuitive use of modular synthesizers and voice.

In Cyano, synthesist and composer Emily A. Sprague questions self, other, ecology, and life in a distant realm. Conjured around the idea of an imagined planet whose inhabitants are rebuilding forbidden capacities for expressivity and emotional connection, Cyano is a meditation on visibility, psychic transformation, light transmission, and worlds beyond our knowing materialized through an intuitive use of modular synthesizers and voice.

“Iker Munduate is an artist and musician who brings a delicate sense of composition and design... Inspired in part by new age music, Its rippling melodies and frictionless glide recall the futuristic utopias of Detroit Escalator Company and the interior reverie of Nobukazu Takemura" - Derek Walmsley Continuing from where he left it 2 years ago after a sold out debut LP released on Hegoa, Iker is back with his follow up “Sinkronia”. A gripping take on Eastern and Western minimalist traditions influenced by the likes of Steve Reich, Suso Saiz or Midori Takada. Transcendental and esoteric rhythmic wonders that take time to unfold. A young percussionist and guitar player with electronic interests displaying a rich sonority and a great sense of structure and arrangements. This record shows the refinement of Iker’s attributes, who initially worked in the noise/punk scene and now is part of the local Free Jazz/Improv landscape of San Sebastian, although he currently lives in New York where he has been playing several gigs including a rendition of Glenn Branca’s Symphony No.13 at Lincoln center with 100 guitarists. For this new album he uses Xylophone, hand drums, electric guitar, synths and percussion instruments that guide us in an energetic way to territories somewhere between Italian avant-garde, Japanese New Age and American Minimalism. Iker Munduate Thusberg is a Basque multi-instrumentalist born and raised in San Sebastian and with strong ties to Mikkeli in Finland, where half of his family are from. A fine arts student at Bilbao’s UPV (Basque university), his interest in sound, art and design has led him to combine all these different disciplines and convey them into his music and his work.

If Surround can be listened to as music that’s as close to air itself, allowing us to enter each listener’s sound scenery, or as something that exists within a new perspective, expanding the middle ground between sound and music, and transforming it into a comfortable space, it would be much appreciated. — Hiroshi Yoshimura Originally released as an album in January 1986, Surround was recorded by Yoshimura as a commission from home builder Misawa Homes, intended to function as an “amenity” designed to enhance the company’s newly built living spaces. In his original notes for the album, Yoshimura recommends that Surround be placed in the same family of sounds “as the vibration of footsteps, the hum of an air conditioner, or the clanging of a spoon inside a coffee cup.” And, as he suggests, “with the addition of city noise from outside the window,” you may hear Surround in a completely new way. A pioneer in the field of environmental music, Yoshimura’s previous works included Music For Nine Post Cards (1982), originally produced to be played back inside a museum space, and designing sound environments for public spaces and subway systems. Surround was recorded almost concurrently with the acclaimed and popular GREEN (1986); the two albums are described by Hiroyoshi Shiokawa in his liner notes as being Yoshimura’s yin and yang. 12月上旬入荷。遂に満を持して登場。あの『Green』を凌ぐ人気を誇る、長年失われていた吉村弘最高峰のアンビエント・クラシックこと1986年作品『Surround』が〈Light in the Attic〉配給の〈Temporal Drift〉レーベルより待望の公式アナログ再発！日本の環境音楽のパイオニアであり、都市/公共空間のサウンドデザインからサウンドアート、パフォーマンスに至るまで、傑出した仕事を世に残した偉才、吉村弘。その最難関の音盤として君臨してきた幻の一枚が、今回史上初の公式アナログ・リイシュー。ミサワホームから依頼されて録音された作品で、これらは同社の新築居住空間をより充実させるために設計された「アメニティ」として機能することを目的としていた環境音楽作品。吉村自身による当時のライナーノーツに加え、オリジナル・プロデューサーであった塩川博義氏による新規ライナーノーツも同封（日／英）。 MASTERPIECE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If Surround can be listened to as music that’s as close to air itself, allowing us to enter each listener’s sound scenery, or as something that exists within a new perspective, expanding the middle ground between sound and music, and transforming it into a comfortable space, it would be much appreciated. — Hiroshi Yoshimura Originally released as an album in January 1986, Surround was recorded by Yoshimura as a commission from home builder Misawa Homes, intended to function as an “amenity” designed to enhance the company’s newly built living spaces. In his original notes for the album, Yoshimura recommends that Surround be placed in the same family of sounds “as the vibration of footsteps, the hum of an air conditioner, or the clanging of a spoon inside a coffee cup.” And, as he suggests, “with the addition of city noise from outside the window,” you may hear Surround in a completely new way. A pioneer in the field of environmental music, Yoshimura’s previous works included Music For Nine Post Cards (1982), originally produced to be played back inside a museum space, and designing sound environments for public spaces and subway systems. Surround was recorded almost concurrently with the acclaimed and popular GREEN (1986); the two albums are described by Hiroyoshi Shiokawa in his liner notes as being Yoshimura’s yin and yang. 12月上旬入荷。遂に満を持して登場。あの『Green』を凌ぐ人気を誇る、長年失われていた吉村弘最高峰のアンビエント・クラシックこと1986年作品『Surround』が〈Light in the Attic〉配給の〈Temporal Drift〉レーベルより待望の公式アナログ再発！日本の環境音楽のパイオニアであり、都市/公共空間のサウンドデザインからサウンドアート、パフォーマンスに至るまで、傑出した仕事を世に残した偉才、吉村弘。その最難関の音盤として君臨してきた幻の一枚が、今回史上初の公式アナログ・リイシュー。ミサワホームから依頼されて録音された作品で、これらは同社の新築居住空間をより充実させるために設計された「アメニティ」として機能することを目的としていた環境音楽作品。吉村自身による当時のライナーノーツに加え、オリジナル・プロデューサーであった塩川博義氏による新規ライナーノーツも同封（日／英）。 MASTERPIECE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2026年リプレス！ドイツ・ハンブルクを拠点にニューエイジ・リバイバルを牽引したBasso主宰の名門レーベル〈Growing Bin Records〉や、ギリシャ系ニューエイジを掘り起こした〈Into The Light〉などからのリリースや、アンビエント・ダンス・ユニットEarth TraxやPtakiなどの名義でも活動するポーランド・ワルシャワのバレアリック／アンビエント鬼才ことBartosz Kruczynskiによる最新ソロアルバム、今回も凄い才能＆内容！16年リリースの『Baltic Beat』が当店でも大ヒットを記録した人気アクトによる、4年振り最新アルバム！温かみのあるビブラフォン、張り詰めたアルペジオ、重なり合うストリングス、孤独なディレイチェーンなど、アンビエントの重なり合うスタイルに、常に独自のスピンを加えてきた名手による、安定のバレアリック／アンビエント作品！

On White Morning, Fumio Miyashita distils his healing‑ambient language into two near‑half‑hour reveries: soft synths and gentle acoustic colours held in a discovered stillness that treats music as a space for rest, focus and quiet presence. White Morning, recorded in 1989 at Biwa Studio, captures Fumio Miyashita at the point where his music becomes less a sequence of notes and more a sustained state of being. Active through the late 1980s and early 1990s as a composer, arranger and multi‑instrumentalist, Miyashita carved out a singular niche between healing music, environmental sound and meditative ambient. While many contemporaries busied themselves mapping forests, cities and weather systems in tone, Miyashita turned inward. His pieces were designed explicitly for the body as much as the ear: music for rest, focus, presence, created to support breathing, posture and attention rather than to decorate a room. White Morning distils that vision into its purest form. The album consists of two extended works, 目覚め (See The Light) and 朝の祈り (Morning Prayer), each close to twenty‑five minutes in length. Built from soft synthesizer layers and delicate acoustic textures, they move with a slowness that feels less composed than discovered, as if Miyashita had patiently tuned himself to a particular inner frequency and simply stayed there. Harmonic changes are subtle, almost subliminal; motifs appear and dissolve without insisting on themselves. This is music that refuses to impose – no sharp edges, no dramatic arcs, just a gentle continuity of tone that invites the listener to sink, breathe and notice. In 目覚め (See The Light), bright but gauzy synth overtones suggest the first wash of morning illumination, a cautious opening of the eyes. Underneath, quieter figures pulse with the regularity of a resting heartbeat. The piece doesn’t build toward a climax; instead, it slightly increases its luminosity over time, like a room gradually filling with daylight. 朝の祈り (Morning Prayer) feels even more interior. Here, acoustic colours – faint chimes, possible string or flute traces – thread through the electronic bed, offering points of focus within the ongoing drone. The atmosphere is devotional without belonging to a specific faith: a sense of quietly held intention, of gratitude or petition expressed in sustained tone rather than in words. Originally released on CD in 1991, White Morning circulated quietly among devotees of kankyo ongaku and Japanese new age, passed hand to hand and mentioned in hushed tones alongside favourites by Hiroshi Yoshimura, Satoshi Ashikawa or Klaus Wiese. Unlike many environmental records designed explicitly around place – gardens, galleries, corporate lobbies – Miyashita’s work seems to address the interior “room” of the listener: the nervous system, the breath, the mind’s tendency to wander. That inward focus gives White Morning a particular intimacy. Even at low volume, you sense it re‑tuning the background; at higher levels, it can feel like stepping into a bath of sound. For its third release, Ambient Sans turns to this quietly beloved cornerstone of Japanese ambient, finally bringing White Morning to vinyl after decades of digital and CD‑only existence. The format shift underscores the album’s status as more than functional audio. As a physical object – a record you handle, place on a turntable, flip between sides of dawn and prayer – it becomes a ritual artefact, a tool for framing time at the beginning of a day or at any moment when the listener needs to withdraw without closing off. Essential for anyone drawn to Yoshimura’s environmental lightness, Ashikawa’s meditative depth or Wiese’s healing drones, White Morning stands as one of Miyashita’s most resonant offerings: music that stays, gently, until you’re ready to carry its stillness back into the rest of your life.

The Melting Hours is a live project by Wata Igarashi and Kuniyuki. WataIgarashi continues to make his mark on the history of techno, whilst Kuniyuki has long been revered as one of Sapporo’s greatest treasures. The two artists, who have long held mutual respect for one another, met whilst performing at the Draaimolen Festival 2025, and this encounter gave rise to The Melting Hours. This is the latest release from Rainbow Disco Club’s label imprint, Beyond Space And Time. ‘Blue Sun’ is imbued with a freshness reminiscent of the ambient jazz masterpieces released by prestigious labels such as ECM and Windham Hill. ‘Liquid Dunes’ sees the organic tones of the flute and percussion melt into over ten minutes of abstract sound textures, whilst the breathtaking ‘Cloud Touch’ awakens amidst a swirling vortex of pulsating downbeats and arpeggios. It is said that ‘Blue Sun’ was created by reconstructing studio rehearsal recordings, whilst ‘Liquid Dunes’ and ‘Cloud Touch’ were crafted from live recordings at Draaimolen 2025. The essence of these works—and indeed of the project The Melting Hours itself—lies at the heart of their improvisational nature. It brings to mind the Rainbow Disco Club event back in 2026, where they wove their sounds amidst fresh greenery and surrounded by listeners under a clear blue sky. It felt as though the pulsating energy was spreading across the dance floor, guided by a session from The Melting Hours that seemed almost like a living creature. The organic breath one senses in this work not only evokes precisely that scene but also allows us to feel the unique, ephemeral nature inherent in this project—and, consequently, the boundless possibilities that stem from it.

Music From Memory presents Mood Programs – Extended Play, the debut release from LA MARR, a new project conceived by Ron Trent. The first in an ongoing series for the label, it explores Trent’s fascination with mood, acoustics and the emotional impact of sound within physical space.Drawing inspiration from ambient music, dub, New Age, Krautrock, New Wave and HiFi sound system culture, LA MARR channels decades of sonic exploration into a refined contemporary framework. Built from a blend of analogue techniques and modern production methods, the project focuses on depth, warmth and carefully crafted atmospheres.Across the two tracks, 'Good Magic' and 'Clear', shimmering synth patterns, drifting pads, organic percussion and subtle low-end movement combine to create meditative, spacious compositions. Thoughtfully constructed and richly atmospheric, Mood Programs – Extended Play reflects Trent’s ongoing pursuit of sound as an immersive and transformative experience.

The next installment of MFM's popular multi-artist compilation Virtual Dreams: 'Virtual Dreams - Ambient Explorations In The House And Techno Age, Japan 1993-1999'. As with Part One, released in 2020, 'Virtual Dreams II' shines a light on house and techno-adjacent music that helped redefine the definition of ambient music during the 1990s.

The focus of Part One heavily fell on music from techno and house producers in Europe, eagerly exploring new soundtracks for chill-out rooms and re-imagining the potential future of club culture from new perspectives. For Part Two, we narrow the lens to focus on a unique time and place, namely Japan between 1993-1999. Despite missing out on the 'Acid House Fever', club culture was beginning to take shape in Japan during the early '90s. In contrast to the rest of the world, where ambient techno / IDM emerged as a by-product or response to the scene, 'listening techno', as it is known in Japan, was a central pillar of the culture right from the start.

'Virtual Dreams II' aims to shine a light on this unique moment in time where the thread of ambient music weaved its way through the music of an emerging club culture. This period saw the birth of many great Japanese techno labels such as Sublime Records, Transonic Records, Syzygy Records, Frogman Records, and Form@ Records, following in the late '90s. 'Virtual Dreams II' features ambient, chill-out, and intelligent techno from these leading labels alongside other lesser-known but equally influential imprints, as well as ambient deviations from Japanese house producers. Much of the music featured has only ever been released on CD.

'Virtual Dreams II' is compiled by Eiji Taniguchi and Jamie Tiller, who have worked closely together on previous Music From Memory releases such as 'Heisei No Oto' and 'Dream Dolphin - Gaia'. It is also the final project Jamie Tiller worked on before his tragic passing in 2023. Jamie had been researching, planning, and compiling this version of Virtual Dreams even before the first chapter was released, believing that there were many great tracks in Japan that fit the concept of the series. Knowing how much love and energy he put into compiling it gives it an extra special place in our hearts.

Compiled by Jamie Tiller and Eiji Taniguchi with artwork by Kenta Senekt, design by Steele Bonus and liner notes by Itaru W. Mita,

“Music for Stillness” unfolds slowly, inviting rest and quiet presence. The bansuri flute leads the sound, its vocal-like quality weaving melody atop cello and ambient textures. Influenced by Indian classical music, Japanese environmental music, and Western ambient music, the album leaves space for the listener to choose how deeply to engage. The music offers a single question: What might peace sound like?

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytum comosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.
The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’s new renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

-Andy Beta 

The first vocal album by beloved Ethiopian nun, composer, and pianist Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru - profound and deeply moving home cassette recordings made amidst political upheaval and turmoil. These are songs of wisdom, loss, mourning, and exile, sung directly into a boombox and accompanied by Emahoy’s unmistakable piano. Though written and recorded while still living at her family’s home in Addis Ababa, Emahoy sings of the heartache of leaving her beloved Ethiopia, a reflection on the 1974 revolution and ensuing Red Terror in her homeland, and a presentiment of her future exile in Jerusalem. In the 21st century, Emahoy has become known worldwide for her utterly unique melodic and rhythmic style. Commonly misinterpreted as “jazzy” or “honky tonk,” Emahoy’s music actually comes from a deep engagement with the Western classical tradition, mixed with her background in Ethiopian traditional and Orthodox music. These songs, recorded between 1977-1985, are different from anything previously released by the artist. Rich with the sound of birds outside the window, the creak of the piano bench, the thump of Emahoy’s finger on the record button, they create a sense of place, of being near the artist while she records. Emahoy’s lyrics, sung in Amharic, are poetic and heavy with the weight of exile. “When I looked out / past the clouds / I couldn’t see my country’s sky / Have I really gone so far?” she asks in “Is It Sunny or Cloudy in the Land You Live?” Her vocals are delicate and heartfelt, tracing the melodic contours of her piano on songs like “Where Is the Highway of Thought?” “Tenkou! Why Feel Sorry?,” a career highlight that closes out her self-titled Mississippi album (MRP-099), is revisited here with vocals. Originally composed for her niece, Tenkou, the lyrics clarify the song title we’ve wondered about for so many years. “Don’t cry / Childhood won’t come back / Let it go with love.” Emahoy dreamt of releasing this music to a larger audience before her passing in March of 2023. We are proud to release this music, in collaboration with her family, now, in what would have been her 100th year. LP comes with a 16-page booklet full-color booklet. Gold cover first edition, pressed in both black and gold vinyl editions.

Minecraft - Volume Alpha is the work of German composer and musician Daniel Rosenfeld. Using C418 as his moniker, Rosenfeld crafted the sweeping soundtrack and vibrant sound design which helped breathe life into Minecraft's voxel-based universe. Fans and critics were universally enamored with his beatless, nuanced electronic pieces upon release. Popular gaming site Kotaku named it among The Best Game Music of 2011, calling the music "remarkably soothing," and The Guardian has compared Rosenfeld's delicate piano and sparse ambient motifs to legendary artists Erik Satie and Brian Eno. In an interview feature with C418, Polygon distilled Volume Alpha to its essence: "It's not bound by the retro aesthetic of Minecraft's graphics. It transcends them. The album is an attempt to uplift the combined game/music experience into the sublime."

Written and recorded between 1972 and 1982 in Western Oregon, Back to the Woodlands is a previously unreleased, and nearly lost, album made by Ernest Hood during the same era as his near mythical album Neighborhoods. A visionary combination of field recordings, zithers, and synthesizers, Back to the Woodlands offers an unprecedented depth of access to this singular artistic mind. Working closely with his estate to maintain his original vision, Freedom to Spend has restored and remastered this never before released, lost masterpiece by Ernest Hood from the original tapes. Ernest Hood’s Back to the Woodlands will be issued on vinyl, as well as on CD in combination with its contemporary Where the Woods Begin, with new liner notes by Michael Klausman.

Wheat and Rust was American composer and electronic musician Tim Story’s fourth and final album for the tiny but influential Norwegian label Uniton/Cicada. It was released in 1987, just on the cusp of the greater renown he would enjoy the following year with his Glass Green record, and a Grammy nomination soon after. Rust Smudges, the artist’s latest work, is an unlikely deconstruction of Story’s own Wheat and Rust, a haunting acknowledgement of time passed and the artistic evolution that has propelled Story, 30 years on, through an unpredictably varied and idiosyncratic career. Rust Smudges is both a distillation of the artist’s recent audio installations that re-contextualize existing material into new forms and experiences, and his unabashed fondness for an audio process that he deprecatingly dubs ‘smudging’. Originally developed simply for his own enjoyment and inspiration, these tone poems are built essentially by submitting harmonically-rich, looped phrases of other people’s music to a process that freezes and ‘smudges’ them. The aural equivalent of watching a movie by viewing only one frozen frame every 5 seconds, with everything in between lost, the hazy apparitions that result cycle through hypnotic, constantly-evolving landscapes both enigmatically abstract and warmly familiar. For Rust Smudges, Story manipulated all 12 pieces of his ’87 release, creating two completely new ambient tracks. It marks the first time the composer has submitted his own recorded music to these unconventional processes, and his pairing of early work with an inherently fragile playback medium crystallizes – and subverts – the distances between youthful exuberance and the inevitable, humbling passage of time. Wheat and Rust’s original tracks proved ideal for the proceedings, Story’s trademark harmonic language was blooming by the late 80’s, creating in the smudges a warmly epic contrast to the icy blurs the digital synths impart. The stately, ambiguous progressions that result are profoundly ruminative - reducing active melodies and intricate arrangements into a deep largo of harmony and timbre the way memory softens sharp narratives into transitory pulses of feeling and recollection. In the process of reworking music from his past, Story manages to put his own melancholy ‘meta’ fingerprint on a cassette culture that was in its first generation when he and his fellow explorers first exploited it in the 70’s, out of necessity rather than choice. Available on digital and in a limited edition of 300 cassettes through Dais records, with an artist edition of handmade box sets (with Rust Smudged dubbed onto the original Wheat and Rust cassettes) available directly from Tim Story.

Frogs, condensed milk, the patter of rain. HUG is the new collaborative project from the celebrated guitarists and songwriters Gyan Riley, Devendra Banhart, and Noah Georgeson. Three eternal friends becoming children.

On June 29th, 2023, Jeremiah Chiu walked into the Vintage Synthesizer Museum (VSM) in Highland Park, Los Angeles, with no plan more specific than “let’s fire this stuff up and see what happens.” Exploring the VSM’s vast collection of classic, rare and staple synthesizers, he would sequence, trigger, and layer the machines together with help from VSM founder/curator Lance Hill. Hill recalls: "Jeremiah arrived before the engineer showed up. We talked for maybe 5 minutes before he started programming a sound and sequence into the Gleeman Pentaphonic. By the time the engineer showed up, Jeremiah had built several other parts around the Gleeman that weren't synced by any control method but sounded like they were just calling and responding to each other. They plugged the Tascam 388 into the patch bay, and hit record. Jeremiah played with it, and that was it. First piece written and recorded in under an hour. It felt natural, fun and free. And that's pretty much how the rest of the session went. Constant ecstatic motion. It was the funnest non-HipHop session I've ever worked on." The resulting album – In Electric Time - was recorded in just two days, and edited to completion in the two days following. It was captured fully analog by engineer Ben Lumsdaine, who ​​contributes performances on a few tracks himself. Cooper Crain (of Bitchin Bajas) makes an appearance as well; but ultimately the collection is an intuitive expression of organic electronic music conceptualized and created in-context by Chiu alone, as he calls on a lifetime of work in sound synthesis to paint a fulgent, refreshingly undercut sequence of cinematic sketches and in-process themes. In some ways, In Electric Time reflects the directness of Raymond Scott’s electronic studio recordings — with sharp cuts and room chatter — and, in others, it conjures the in-the-moment magic of Harmonia. About the work, Chiu says: “The approach to the improvisations was to embrace the mixer setups at VSM — where a section of synthesizers are all routed to a single mixer/patchbay — and to start at one end of the studio and work our way around the six different sections. I began with the synths I was most familiar with — or had spent years researching — and was fairly certain I could reign in quickly. When working with vintage gear, there's always a sweet spot where the instrument sings in a unique way. This may be the idiosyncrasies of its filter and how it resonates, the action of the keys, the ability to trigger and use control voltage to sequence, or the unique onboard features. I love finding the moments where a melody or rhythm appears in an unexpected way — at times feeling more like archaeology than sculpture. I was quite improvisatory with the editing as well, often pulling bits from distinctly different sections in dialogue with each other, in order to maintain the raw, spontaneous feeling. I loved hearing moments in the recordings when Ben started or stopped tape, so a take that was running long and beyond its moment would hit directly against a fresh idea.”

Vision Songs Vol. 1 (1984) is the LARAAJI album like no other, located at the intersection of new age and gospel. It is both his outlier and magnum opus, the feel-good DIY tape of the century.Discovered busking in Washington Square Park by Brian Eno in the late 70s, engagement with the eternal flow has led Laraaji to, seemingly by magic, emerge as the most beloved avatar of the unstoppable new age music revival of recent years.Now Vision Songs rewrites Laraaji's musical history. Vision Songs is literally a revelation -- of a master songwriter whose unbelievably catchy best compositions such as "We Shall Be Lifted", "All Of A Sudden", and "Is This Clear?" belong in any great American songbook.Casio synth jams recorded at spiritual retreat guest rooms and a tiny bedroom on the Upper West Side, lysergically-spectacular anthems for a continually arriving new moment, "channeled," as Laraaji states in the album's eloquent liner notes, "from the sky," previously available in an edition of 100 cassettes sold at yoga retreats and on the streets of New York City, Vision Songs is humbly offered on vinyl, CD, and streaming for the very first time.

As Green-House, musicians Olive Ardizoni and Michael Flanagan engage human nature and the natural world through joyous, dynamic synthesis. Overlaying frequencies and expressions like camouflage, their deeply layered collaborative process begins with either artist; Ardizoni is often drawn to melody, Flanagan to harmonics. The power lies in how their ideas helix together, achieving a depth greater than the sum of its parts. For their first LP with new label home, Ghostly International, Green-House grows and refines their vivid instrumental songcraft with uncharted, genre-defying freedom and movement, a more active, percussive, and emotion-filled energy, marked by flowing bodies of sound and sweeping vistas. Hinterlands tunes into the beauty of the world with defiant, radical sincerity.

Since 2020, across a catalog of acclaimed releases via the scene-creating Los Angeles imprint, Leaving Records, the duo has pursued a curiosity in environments, reaching for innate and faraway spaces by way of organic and synthetic instrumentation, high-definition sound design, and “idiosyncratic melodies crafted with the patient and methodical hand of a gardener,” writes Pitchfork. Green-House doesn’t fit neatly into any single category. Ardizoni and Flanagan aren’t aligned with New Age ideologies or spirituality, and the ambient tag feels increasingly limited given all that’s going on in their songs, which skew closer to the realms of IDM or even modern classical on their new album. What remains inherent is an open sense of wonder, “the idea of legitimizing certain emotions within music that often aren’t taken seriously in art, like happiness and joy,” says Ardizoni, whose eclectic personality shines through even without lyrics.

They welcome influences from all over; moments on Hinterlands evoke hypnagogic folk, tropical synth-pop, pan-flute mountain music, jazzy lounge, film scores, library sounds, and other forms of paradise-world-building. The duo simply makes the music they want to hear, earnestly dreaming of idyllic settings, their hope borne of necessity.

Like any artist living in Los Angeles, the 2025 wildfires disrupted any semblance of normalcy in creative life. However, they give careful consideration to how ever-looming environmental and political anxiety may relate to the project. “There's freedom in music, not requiring nuance in order to share an emotion or a fantasy or a utopian ideal with others,” Ardizoni says. “I'm an anarchist and an artist. I don't have to explain that. I can just put the emotion in and hope that it can be used as a tool, to be comforting or inspiring for people.”

As their third LP, Hinterlands is notably fuller, bigger-feeling than past work; brimming with kaleidoscopic guitar lines, bubbling synth textures, and an orchestral radiance that often registers as more than just two people. They bring up biomimicry — learning from and adapting alongside nature — as a formative notion. “When we’re talking about mimicry, it is also like projecting yourself as being larger in a certain way, in a sonic sense, sounding like a full band, but also as people, interconnected with a broader world,” says Flanagan. “This record is us letting go a little bit as well, giving ourselves the freedom to just write and see what happens, to let the music grow naturally.” Ardizoni adds, “We try to utilize what’s right in front of us, just being in an urban environment and making do with what's there in order to continue to foster that connection we have to the natural world.”

Ardizoni and Scott Tenefrancia shot the images that appear within the droplets of the LP’s artwork on a trip to Yosemite and the Inyo National Forest; Flanagan later magnified the scenes through the water with macro photography, using the droplets as a series of lenses. The striking visual serves as a fitting metaphor for music that straddles the organic and the digital — a collection of auditory microcosms developed through imaginative fusion.

It begins in the languid heat of “Sun Dogs”, which nods to the coastal sway of Haruomi Hosono's Pacific album and Paradise View soundtrack with washes of keys, horns, and strings. “Sanibel” is pure shoreline bliss, named after the Florida island a young Ardizoni would visit, growing up on the nearby Cape Coral Island (“my first real experiences as a human exploring nature”). “Farewell, Little Island” borrows its title from the 1987 short animated film directed by Sándor Reisenbüchler, which depicts the drowning of a village by modern technology. The track’s buoyant, spiraling guitar samples, their first time exploring the effect, reminded them of the film’s paper-cut animation and of how the story balances serene splendor with tragedy.

“Dragline Silk” conjures a curious trip. Built on a bed of ascending synth and guitar chords bathed in spring reverb (stemming from their shared love for Jessica Pratt’s latest album) and named after the natural phenomenon of spiders that use static electricity to sail through the atmosphere, the track soars with grandeur. The Hinterland suite is the album’s centerpiece, three tracks traversing wide hilltop terrain, with flute and guitar playfully surveying the scene (“Hinterland I”) before more contemplative strums and astral synth and woodwinds take hold (“Hinterland II” and “III”).

Hinterlands’ sequencing takes the listener from sea to mountains to somewhere more abstract and fantastical; late highlight “Under the Oak” possesses an otherworldly calm on warbled keys, followed by “Bronze Age”, even more subdued. “Valley of Blue” ends the movement in melancholy, overlooking a blue flower field with swells of synthetic strings and oboe in the style of Final Fantasy (Ardizoni originally called it “Memory of a Chocobo”). These traces of sadness permeate the otherwise effervescent collection, reminders that, behind the wonder, lies often profound worry (after all, Sanibel Island was nearly wiped out in 2022). Green-House makes sense of these feelings through their art, with genuine tenderness and refreshing conviction.

Canadian producer Dylan Khotin-Foote has kept his Khotin alias going for the better part of a decade; the impressionistic electronic project shifts with the movements in his life. Sometimes it leads, like when the club-friendly grooves of 2014’s Hello World immersed him in the heart of Vancouver’s underground dance scene, and sometimes it follows, like 2018’s Beautiful You, a downtempo salve for DJ fatigue. His melodic sensibility and playful ear for atmosphere remain the rippling core of the project’s fingerprint; whether beat-driven or ambient, a foggy smear or a dusted and pristine print, a Khotin track has a distinct and instantly recognizable swirl. During and after the 2020 release of Finds You Well, his second LP on Ghostly International, Khotin-Foote settled back into a slower vibe in his hometown of Edmonton. Even before the pandemic, his pivots to softer production, and away from DJing, left him with fewer opportunities in Vancouver and club bookings overall, and as a self-identifying introvert, he was fine with that. But the change of pace did open space for Khotin-Foote to grapple with concepts of adulthood and career. At his lowest, he almost walked off this musical path altogether; instead, he doubled down on the craft — the tone, pacing, and dynamism of new material — arriving at a definitive full-length. With Release Spirit, Khotin releases himself from the pressure of expectation, fusing and refining everything we know about his music. The warmth and familiarity of Khotin’s dreamy, dulcet style meet new ideas and frameworks, a natural progression, a modest revelation; Khotin confirms it is okay to move slowly and he’s never sounded better doing it. The album title borrows from the “release spirit” mechanic in the video game World of Warcraft. When players die, they are prompted to release their spirit and return as ghosts to find their corpses and come back to life. Khotin sees it as a worthy metaphor for the impending change his return home presented and the resulting process of purging artistic expectations to find his creative self again. On this go-around, he is freer, more playful, and more intentional within his palette of warped synth, breakbeats, and piano sounds — including the classic Casio SK-1 presets he’s used since the start — mingling with wistful samples, field recordings, and other abstract snippets. For the first time, he enlisted Nik Kozub to do the mix and assist with sequencing. Khotin-Foote has long worked with the Edmonton-based musician and engineer in the mastering phase, as well as their days co-running the label Normals Welcome, and this time was able to involve his ears earlier given their newfound proximity. “I think it’s my best sounding record to date.” We begin on “HV Road” or Happy Valley Road, where Khotin-Foote spent time during a family vacation in British Columbia’s Okanagan Lake. His plans to record crickets at night are quickly foiled by his younger siblings; the cute exchange orients the listener to a core memory of sorts, setting the tone of universally understood warmth and wonder that has defined some of Khotin’s most transportive tracks. Hazy percussion takes hold, and we are swept further into the wisp of “Lovely,” a grooving, melodic standout built on the interplay between the beat and human voice-like hums. Khotin knows this zone well; equally suited for a reverie or a club warm-up. The bubbling atmosphere and absurdity of “3 pz” offer a cosmic/comic interlude and also speak to reflections on his family’s move to Canada two generations ago, and the audio tutorials they used to learn English. “I can only imagine my grandparents repeating some of the bizarre phrases.” “Fountain, Growth” finds Khotin in collaboration with Montreal’s Tess Roby (Dawn to Dawn) for the project’s first-ever vocal track. Roby’s soft cadence echoes atop spiraling air pockets of rhythmic production, lending a breezy, almost shoegaze pop feel. Throughout the single and the album, wind gusts between the compositional layers, akin to the roaming spirits of its namesake, curving around the birdsong of “Life Mask” and seamlessly reaching “Unlimited <3.” The latter bumps in slow motion; disembodied whirrs from his Casio collide with 808 drums and sub-bass for a vibe that teeters on trap and instrumental hip-hop. Release Spirit rests in a dream sequence. Oscillating synth lines dance around the heartbeat of “Techno Creep,” a hyperactive REM state before the digitized ambient sprawl of “My Same Size.” In the final pass, Khotin imagines transcontinental travel from the glow of his screen. He recorded “Sound Gathering Trip” to soundtrack a genre of YouTube videos he’s taken to that follows train routes through Europe and Japan. The scene is serene and moving; piano keys warble as static-filled sound design shimmers off the rails, from cityscapes to the countryside, an introspective ride through a world beyond his bedroom. It doubles as an apt parting image for Khotin’s project as a whole: dreaming big but happiest when riffing on the details, shaping environments from the inside out. Over the last decade, he has stretched from his core in Edmonton, leaving a trace in Vancouver and beyond; but when all signs point home, he loops back to see it all from a different vantage, revitalized, refined, and free.