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Forty years of cassette releases, pressed for the first time on vinyl First of two instalments exploring the previously unreleased sonic archives of one of Poland’s most enigmatic living artists - with its first volume focused on his deep listening practice and spiritual reverie (recorded 1990–2013) The last time Andrzej Dudek-Dürer took a banknote bearing the face of the Polish anarchist Jarosław Dąbrowski from his pocket to trade it for a pair of shoes was in 1969. He bought them for 120zł - the equivalent of 100€ today - and never replaced them since then. Only rebuilt them, year after year, drawing a needle and thread through the leather each time it split, closing one wound before the next one opened. It became a ritual of precision, stitching a record of another year into their soles. That same year, in Wrocław, he arrived at a conclusion that would recalibrate everything that followed. Convinced he was the reincarnation of Albrecht Dürer, he adopted the surname Dudek-Dürer, stopped cutting his hair and began wearing the same garments every day. It was the first ritual of many, though he wouldn't have called it that yet. Look closely enough, over the decades, and it is always the same gesture, returning in different material: hair growing in a single unbroken strand, a needle drawing thread through leather, sitar strings pulled taut across a neck he built with his own hands and magnetic tape spooling forward inside the cassette boxes stacked against his walls. None of this began in a vacuum. Dudek-Dürer emerged from the Wrocław neo-avant-garde, in a Polish art world where an exhibition could be cancelled overnight by the stroke of a censor's pen. In 1973, his exhibition Auto-crucifixion was shut down by the state, and for a time he found himself blocked from exhibiting his own art at all - the one force in his life that ever came close to cutting the thread. He seemed to experience it differently. In 1974, after long, patient research into sitar craftsmanship, he built his first prototype with his brother, a knowledgeable luthier. In 1978, in a smoked-out jazz club, he took his first steps into sound recording with the unreleased album Jazz From Underground with his first band. By 1979, recognition started to travel further than he could. Turning toward Far-Eastern philosophy, meditation and the idea of reincarnation was another language of freedom for him. It was a way of claiming an inner territory the state could not reach, a border it could not close. Mail Art served a parallel function, reaching further out: in a country that restricted travel and expression, sending and receiving art through the postal system became an act of quiet rebellion. The body, in his understanding, is only an envelope readied for constant transformation. From this came Metaphysical Telepathy: during the years he could not leave Poland, he treated that confinement as a rehearsal room, sending his mind out ahead on the same thread his body would later follow. Living Sculpture grew from the same root with performances of stillness beside static art objects, until the boundary between the object and the man beside it simply dissolved. Camera Meditation extended the same instinct into photography: a shutter click flattening three dimensions into two so that a single instant could be held forever. Inspired by the pioneers of self-portrait photography like Robert Cornelius, he used it to document time itself, and kept explaining to me: "You know. This is not about vanity. This is about observing time passing.” The isolation did not end suddenly. It ended the way his own philosophy had already predicted it would, from the inside first. Mail Art quietly solved the problem politics couldn't. Correspondence built during years of confinement slowly worked its way through doors the state itself had kept locked. Contacts made through folded paper and stamps became invitations. Ultimately, invitations became passports. In 1983 he made his first trip outside Poland, to Germany, in search of the audio technology he couldn’t get his hands on before. In 1985, he was invited by the Indian embassy in Poland to give a sitar concert on an instrument he had spent a decade patiently stringing together - half sitar, half tanpura, built from patience and determination. After the collapse of the People's Republic of Poland, the travels kept unspooling: South Korea, then Mexico, then Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Singapore, Japan and the United States - each stop leaving behind its own small knot of tape, tied off and carried home. In the decades since, recognition arrived at the same unhurried pace: he conducted workshops at UC Berkeley, served as vice-president for artistic affairs of the Union of Polish Art Photographers and the Union of Polish Visual Artists between 2010 and 2014 and received the Bronze Medal for Merit to Culture - Gloria Artis. His visual work gradually entered collections including the National Museums of Warsaw, the Stedelijk Museum, Tate Modern, MoMA and the Venice Biennale. His musical practice, by contrast, never found that kind of room - left to circulate quietly, sharing his cassette tapes directly, waiting for someone willing to follow it further. It took months before I could find a way to reach Andrzej Dudek-Dürer - his presence online is very close to nonexistent. Surprisingly, LinkedIn turned out to be the only door still open, a faintly absurd irony given everything else about him. I packed the strict minimum for a three-day trip and an empty notebook and made my way to Wrocław. His headquarters sits in the neighbourhood of Grabyszyn: a two-storey pre-war house that has belonged to his family for generations. The man who opened the door was long-haired, long-bearded, in his trademark leather shoes and patched jeans. We sat in his living room, in front of a computer where decades of recordings sat organised in cryptically named files, surrounded by books and objects that had arrived one layer at a time, leaving room for only two chairs in the middle. His shoes sat by the door, rebuilt so many times they had become their own quiet sculpture. Cassette tapes filled boxes against the walls, almost unlabelled, each one a spool of thread holding decades of sound that had never once been asked for, until now. I listened for hours: meditating in front of strangers on the porch of a Seoul temple until the tourists stopped taking photos and simply waited with him; a stand-off with border guards at the US–Mexico crossing over an instrument they couldn't identify and didn't trust; a session with the Stockhausen family that he still, decades later, describes like it happened last week. All of it interrupted, occasionally, by the smell of soup boiling and fresh bread warming on the ceramic stove. After two days, it felt like being handed the end of a very long thread and asked, gently, to keep following it. I left with a USB drive holding his full discography, signed with his unmistakable signature. Astral Meditations From A Living Statue is a length of that thread, drawn out from the boxes stacked against his walls - recordings gathered from different rooms, different countries, different decades. This first record breathes slowly: incense-thick, meditative, built for stillness. A cutting-edge séance in outer space where machines learn how to dream. It begins with the neo-classical improvisations of Andrzej, space-delayed, recorded at Klub Muzyki i Literatury in Wrocław in 2002. 'When..So' opens the curtains with a deep-rooted meditation accompanied by slow-decaying piano figures illuminated by a candle-lit spirit gathering. Los Angeles, 1990: a dormant villa, a grand piano, the voice of Bonnie Barnett. 'Exception' is captured in a single room, in a single afternoon - voice and keys circling each other, neither one leading, until the silence between the notes starts to feel like the instrument. 'The Meta...' and 'Tired Of...', recorded at Studio Morandi in Ponte Nossa, Italy, in 1992, settle into a sitar drone built entirely from patience - overtones stacking and beating against each other, strung by a man who never once set foot in India. 'Mastery Of...' follows, recorded the same year at Studio Suski in Łomianki, pushing that same hum further still, until pitch dissolves into a spectral reverie. 'Transcendental Sound', from 2000, closes the first record in a slow bath of celestial frequency - better heard beside the shores of the Odra river. More than fifty years after deciding that a life could become an artwork, Andrzej Dudek-Dürer continues to inhabit that decision. His shoes keep wearing thin against the earth's crust. His hair keeps growing, one strand at a time. His cassette tapes keep spooling in the dark of their boxes. Now the thread finds its last shape: a single unbroken groove, spiralling inward from the outer edge to the label at the centre. Never cut - the way nothing else in his life ever was. Drop the needle and it will find that groove and follow it, the same way a needle once followed leather, once followed a border it couldn't cross, once followed string into an instrument that didn't exist until he built it. This record is the other end of a thread that has been travelling for fifty years. For the length of both sides, it rests here, in your hands. This is a timeless proof that the Lord of the New Age was never lost."


In a limited one time only silver foil edition, here we have Harlan Silverman's follow up to his popular Music For Stillness LP! For this one, he's teamed up with violinist Gregory Allison to bring you an absolutely beautiful peaceful record. Just violin and cello! Pretty! Special.
“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?

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.

On his standout debut LP, DJ Grzyb marshals a rudely squashed swamp dance at the head of his octet, The Make-Believe Ensemble, landing with early support by Nathan Gregory Wilkins, babyschön, Skyrager (Psychemagick), Tom Ravenscroft, Elena Colombi The lessons of dub, new age ambient and Italian cosmic disco that fed into the proto-Goa melange continue to inspire DJ Grzyb and his band of slow disco marauders on this trippy 14-track journey. Their first venture unfolds as a sort of album-cum-mixtape, all handling a vast array of East-West instruments - from brass and woodwind sections to sitar, tanpura, and trad. Thai khaen, ching, pi phu Thai - in a wandering sort of cinematic, narrative-driven fashion. It’s almost entirely yoked to a purposefully slow pace, but does prang out a sore thumb ‘The Three Deaths’ ft. Naphta, aiming it all squarely at the feet of Vladimir Ivkovic or Andrew Weatherall fiends.

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,
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.

11月中旬再入荷。坂本龍一とのコラボレーション3曲収録。Lee BannonとしてもNinja Tuneなどで活躍する北カルフォルニアのプロデューサー、Fred Welton Warmsley IIIによる真打ちである、インダストリアル・ミュージックをノイズやポスト・アンビエント、モダン・クラシカルといった現代的かつ先鋭的なアプローチで革新する一大プロジェクト、Dedekind Cutの8年振りとなる待望の新作!
Dedekind Cutによる〈DED〉トリロジーの最終章『Dede-K-Tion』。長い時間をかけて構想・制作されてきたシリーズの集大成となる作品で、これまでの〈DED〉シリーズで展開されてきた音響的探究をさらに拡張し、微細でスピチリュアルな電子音響とミニマリズムが交錯する世界を形成。坂本龍一特有の洗練された静謐さも相まって、Dedekind Cutの新たな領域へ到達した重要作。

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.



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.


Better late than never, we’re incredibly excited to finally announce a very special upcoming release on our label. One of the most rewarding aspects of music is its ability to create meaningful connections across borders and cultures. Through that shared language, we connected with rush2theUnknown, a Japan- and New Zealand-based duo with roots in the foundation New Zealand jungle / drum & bass scene, and it’s a true privilege to now be releasing their music. Ancient / Future is a journey through time, influence, and emotion. Drawing from the duo’s diverse musical backgrounds and inspirations, the EP bridges ancient echoes with futuristic sound design, balancing antediluvian nostalgia and far-future energy in equal measure.

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.
A bearhug of chill-out room gouching gear from MFM spanning the golden era of ‘90s ambient dance music with gems from David Moufang, LFO, Global Communication, Kirsty Hawkshaw, Sun Electric and many more notables of that era. Since the world turned into a big chill out room in early 2020, albeit with a heavy sense of anxiety, this set could hardly be better placed for downtime in the comfort of your own home, rolling out mystic highlights such as LFO’s MDMA-tingle arps and pads in ‘Helen’ and the sublime suspension systems of Global Communication’s remix of ‘Arcadian’, along with Move D’s early nugget ‘Sergio Leone’s Wet Dream’, and the lush pads of his close spar Jonah Sharp’s Spacetime Continuum, plus a strip of killer slow acid in Sideral’s ‘Mare Nostrum’, and the blissed romance of ‘Love 2 Love’ by Sun Electric. One for the lovers and the ravers.
Masahiro Sugaya, a Grammy-nominated composer whose works have been featured in the Japanese ambient compilation "Kankyo Ongaku" by the US label "Light In The Attic," has received remarkable acclaim from overseas in recent years. The world's first reissue and first LP of the stage music "Sea Zoo" (1988), created for a stage performance by Papa Tarahumara, a performing arts group to which Sugaya belonged at the time!
Masahiro Sugaya has been active as a composer since the early 80's, studying under eminent composers such as Shigeaki Saegusa, Joji Yuasa, and Teizo Matsumura, and also worked as an arranger for NHK Educational TV's "Diary of a Junior High School Student" and for the guitar duo "Gonchichi". This album was produced for the stage performance "Sea Zoo" by the performing arts group "Papa Tarahumara," for which he has worked as a composer since 1987, and was released only in CD format at the time. This album was released only in CD format at the time, and its tracks were included in the Grammy-nominated Japanese new age/ambient compilation "Kankyo Ongaku" by the US label Light In The Attic, and the compilation "Horizon Vol. 1" was released by the US label Empire of Signs, which also reissues leading Japanese ambient artists such as Hiroshi Yoshimura and Inoyama Yamaland. Although there have been reissues of single tracks, this is the world's first reissue of an album, and the first release in LP format! The album includes "Grains of Sand from the Sea" (M2), which is a mixture of delicate piano and soft electronic sounds from "Kankyo Ongaku", and "To the End of the World" (M7), which is full of floating feeling with minimalist soft sequences from "Horizon Vol. 1", This is a historical masterpiece that evokes the essence of Japanese ambient music, which has been reevaluated worldwide in recent years!
Portland’s Osmosis chart a cross-section of North American-derived electronics, ranging from Priori’s slow techno slug to Ben Bondy & Special Guest DJ's bleep special as Xphresh. The Osmosis party / festival / interdimensional research consortium’s label wing serve ravers of odder persuasions with something to bite into. Priori & wav4ms’s greazy grindr ‘Colossi’ is a big highlight, and wav4ms also lends to another standout, the sloshing gamelan trip of ‘Belladonna’ with local Portland artist, Carly Banton, which shares a fascination for tuned percussions with muck’s subbass-propelled halfstep mutation ’Ugamelon Spirit’. Xphresh, the duo of Ben Bondy & Special Guest DJ, whisk-up the featherlike bleep stepper ‘Burning Sand’, and the restless writhe of ‘Fuul’ from mor-f.

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!
