MUSIC

The entire album is permeated with ethereal, lo-fi sounds, creating a superb ambient/drone masterpiece that is melancholic and introspective, yet filled with sweet, meditative charm!

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life. Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work as a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically. Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which he began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions. On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan AM', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Christian Schoppik aka Läuten der Seele brings his “Water” trilogy to a close with his new album ‘Die Reise zur Monsalwäsche’ (The Journey to Monsalwäsche) following up ‘Die Mariengrotte als Trinkwasseraufbereitungsanlage’ (2022, Hands in the Dark) and ‘Ertrunken im seichtesten Gewässer’ (2023, World of Echo).

This final instalment takes the listener on a sacred odyssey searching for the fulfilment of one's (or is it their own?) spiritual destiny, from beginning (‘Entschluss, Abschied & Aufbruch’ / ‘Decision, Farewell & Departure’) to end (‘Verirrung, Ankunft & Erlösung’ / ‘Losing Way, Arrival & Salvation’).

While the compositional technique of this opus still relies primarily on samples and altered audio-collages, each chapter of the trilogy was intentionally created from very different sources. The present collection is arguably less "experimental" than some of Läuten der Seele's previous works, as classical music takes center stage this time. However the mastery in crafting such magnificent and intriguing narratives sees the simplicity and emotional depth of these sonic mariages become the beauty of it all.

Schoppik remains consistent as ever in his creative explorations, and this release feels very much like a culmination of his past projects. “Die Reise zur Monsalwäsche” will probably come to be known as a standout entry in the German artist's music catalog, showcasing a new facet of his talent.

When KMRU accessed the sound archive of the Royal Museum of Central Africa in Tervuren, Belgium, it catalysed an auditory response in the form of the album Temporary Stored. The album listened back to listen forward – to reckon with the collective inheritance of colonial (sound) archives. Temporary Stored II serves as an artistic and curatorial extension of the original album, inviting other artists to lend their critical ear to museum archives holding recordings of African songs, traditions and practices. With KMRU, Aho Ssan, Lamin Fofana, Nyokabi Kariũki and Jessica Ekomane draw upon their listening experiences as global contemporaries navigating a world in flux – ecologically, economically, and politically. Each artist brings a selection of sonic fragments out of dormancy, channelling (in)audible traces into a contemporary cultural and political paradigm. Temporary Stored II sensitively responds to historical archives whose sounds have been restored and made more accessible through digitalisation, despite still being the copyrighted property of European institutions. It develops an emergent language to engage with the vocal, rhythmic and syllabic intelligence rooted in these sonic repertoires, grounded in reimagination of sonic records as seeds for a sounding future. Listening back to these recordings is one way to recover the loss of listening traditions, orality and modes of transmission. In these sonic mediations, Lamin Fofana, KMRU, Jessica Ekomane, Nyokabi Kariũki and Aho Ssan account for the archives with care and criticality. Inscribed in this album are “black waveforms as rebellious enthusiasms”, which in the words of Katherine McKittrick “affirm, through cognitive schemas, modes of being human that refuse antiblackness while restructuring our existing system of knowledge.” The album asks us to listen to colonial pasts and imagine the sound of our epistemological futures. It is a sonic retort; a playback to history and its colonial processes of extraction and accumulation. Temporary Stored II is a reminder that the labour of listening back is a continuous process of reassessing what has been lost, captured and refused.

boycalledcrow is the alias of Chester-based sound artist Carl M Knott (Wonderful Beasts, Spacelab). Knott, a former folk musician, uses his myriad acoustic influences to create unique, strange and beautiful compositions. We're excited to be able to bring you the latest wonderful album from Chester's boycalledcrow, after some superb releases for labels such as Mortality Tables, Waxing Crescent Records and Subexotic Records. Knott's music doesn't sit easily in any pre-existing genres, being at once strange and experimental, yet melodic and somehow comforting. His music is intimate and evocative, deeply personal, and manages to be both bucolic and yet totally 21st century, like Kraftwerk's robots dreaming of sheep. The songs and sounds on “eyetrees” are inspired by a rich family life and the wonderful times spent with his wife and kids, both at home and out in nature. Knott said of the album and its inspirations: “We enjoy spending time in the woods with our young children, creating stories about the "eye tree”. This tree, with thousands of eyes, watches over us and cares for us like family. We make fox medicine and cherish these blissful moments. The music reflects these times, seen through the colors of an old, fuzzy reel—orange, red, and yellow with blurred edges, like an old photo scorched by the sun. I feel a deep spiritual connection to the countryside; the hands of Arcadia cradle me when I feel sad. Some of the album was created during times of sadness when I felt death was close and the lines between worlds were blurred. This feeling—that anything can happen and that life is delicate and can be taken away in a flash—permeates the music. The song titles are stories and memories of my family, filled with hazy pinks, yellows, reds, and oranges. Wonky acoustic guitar, broken electronics, and a warm, otherworldly space."

Tokyo deep house master Soshi Takeda returns with a long-awaited six-song sequel to 2021’s landmark Floating Mountains, surfing deeper into mystery, motion, and liquid dreams: Secret Communication. Recorded across 2022 and 2023 at his home studio with a unique assemblage of 80’s and 90’s hardware, the tracks cruise through a latticework of skyways on lush pads, bubbling bass, and blissed BPMs, dusted in sunrise acid and cosmic piano. His is a dance music of idyllic emotions and inner worlds, yearning for new horizons. Dramatic events overlapped with the album’s creation: “Wars broke out. On the other hand, my child was born. There were sad and beautiful moments in my life.” Secret Communication contains vistas, valleys, glimpses of lives unled, swirling above the grey noise of the city. From the jazzy daydream of “Can Imagination Transcend Distance?” to the sleek starlight house of “Rainstorm” to the farewell ecstasy of the title track, Takeda’s music touches and transports, a portal to places beyond. Fantasy and feeling, intention and inspiration, all become one: “When I listen to beautiful deep house, I feel a mysterious atmosphere. Dreamy scenes come to mind. I aim to create that sound."

Farmer and deep house producer Hiroyuki Tanaka aka Charles A.D. has been quietly cultivating his crop of live hardware dub techno and devotional acid since debuting with the 熱い海 (‘Hot Sea’) EP on Austria’s Dream Raw Recordings in 2017, followed by two long-form classics for Tokyo’s Umé label in 2019 (Inception) and 2021 (Dry Flower). His latest, West Pontoon Bridge, further refines Tanaka's composite of rhythm, repetition, and vanishing point electronics, shaded in what he calls “characteristic sadness.” Schemed and tracked across a half decade of studio explorations, the album moves through gradient landscapes of twilit trees, mossy waterfalls, and hidden temples shrouded in ocean mist. Named for a nearby Japanese landmark of boards laid across boats at the river mouth in place of a permanent bridge, the collection unfolds in a similarly improvised and panoramic sweep. Lean percussive systems crosshatched with bass, haze, liquid loops, and spatial FX, the album subtly accelerates as it advances, spiraling softly towards a strobing dance floor in a sacred grove.

Tokyo architect Hiroki Takahashi is a world-builder both in matter and sound. His latest collection of serene micro-miniatures was inspired by “the dissatisfaction with reality that I feel on a daily basis.” Escapism offers exactly that: percolating patterns of fiberglass synthetics and fluorescent melody, assembled into minimalist bio-domes of refracted light and hanging gardens. Recorded during metropolitan commutes, afterhours office meditations, and various windows of urban stasis, the album’s six songs actualize the ambient muse of their maker, willing space from density, tranquility from tedium. As with his work in exotic atmosphere unit UNKNOWN ME, Takahashi’s touch is hushed, precise, and prismatic, coaxing spectrums of illusion and bliss in its tinted glass spirals: “Extreme tension produces extreme relaxation.”

Welcome to the Encyclopedia Sónica: Every sound you will hear on this album has been recorded by me since 1994 in different parts of the world. On top of these sounds, their melodies and rhythms grow the compositions you will hear. Some of the pieces have a collaborator that integrates with the sounds in different ways. Since I was a little boy, I always found music everywhere. I remember listening to the engine of my mother's car and finding incredible rhythms there. I've always thought that every sound we hear can be made into music. Every sound we hear can be heard as music, felt, and understood as music. Every sound has an attack, a decay; some have a pitch. What is more beautiful - the sound of a flute, bird, trumpet, car horn, violin, or buzzing mosquito? They can all be used to make music. If we learn to hear all sounds as 'musical', or at least having the potential to be used to make music, we might look at and listen to the world more lovingly. That car passing by had a beautiful crescendo. That dog barking in the distance created an amazing melody with an impossible-to-transcribe rhythm. Is there no creative intention behind those sounds? Can the listener give them an intention? Can the listener transform them into art? I am just trying to organize and use them in a way that they will be musical to you, hoping that the next time you hear an ocean wave breaking, or a bonfire crackling, or a fly flying, you can enjoy the notes and the rhythms they are making. They are being created by something - who knows what the intention is, but some of the most amazing rhythms I've heard come from rocks falling in cenotes or ice breaking down in a glacier. The melodies I've listened to, from bats, dogs fighting, or newborn dogs, are haunting and beautiful. The timbre from sounds such as the thorn of a cactus, the voice of a homeless person in the street, or a mosquito buzzing can be used to create instruments as beautiful as any instrument. They have a new sound, or familiar old sound, used differently in a way that invites us to hear the music created by this planet. I hope you enjoy these sounds... Leonardo Heilblum

Panoram makes soundtracks for daydreams gone sideways. Picture the scene: an afternoon nap with the television on, quietly, in the corner; snatches of conversation drift in through the open window. Wandering, half-formed thoughts take unexpected detours; before you know it, there’s a movie playing out against closed lids, the colors bright, the characters unfamiliar. Accidental rhythms, incidental melodies, imitations of life, messages in code. Across 17 fragmentary, sketch-like tracks, Panoram carves a labyrinthine path in which nothing is what it seems: a fantasy world of breathy vox pads, faux guitar, detuned synths, bursts of flute and orchestral percussion, and even the occasional cheeky cartoon sample. It’s chillout music with a chilly edge, ambient with a darkly ironic undertone. (The briefest glance at your news outlet of choice should be enough to confirm that the title—Great Times—ought to be taken with a healthy dose of skepticism.) Panoram has been making music under his principal alias for more than a decade now, releasing albums on labels like Firecracker, Running Back, and his own Wandering Eye. (He has also performed and recorded with Amen Dunes, and has co-production credits on Amen Dunes’ forthcoming Sub Pop album Death Jokes.) Panoram’s output has ranged widely, taking in abstract pop, classical composition, twisted takes on library music, and cyborg funk. One record of “bio-acoustic transmissions” came with a cannabis leaf pressed in clear wax; his 2021 album Pianosequenza Vol. 1 gathers his experiments on the Yamaha Disklavier. But Great Times offers the truest picture yet of a project that has never been easy to pin down. Loath to overshare details about his personal life, Panoram instead lets the music do the talking, using his cryptic tracks to express the slipperiest sorts of ideas—the thoughts that take root where anxiety, distraction, and the most fleeting traces of grace commingle. Panoram’s approach flies in the face of contemporary ambient orthodoxy, with its emphasis on immersion and uplift. Great Times expresses something thornier, more difficult to translate, yet also more tantalizing to contend with. Its 17 tracks offer a chance to get lost—and an invitation to remain in the maze as long as you like.

Coral Morphologic and Nick León’s Projections of a Coral City marks a series of collisions between distant worlds: the organic and the artificial, the Eocene and the Anthropocene, sea and cement—and even, perhaps, ambient music and activism. Coral Morphologic are the Miami duo of marine biologist Colin Foord and musician J.D. McKay; since 2007, they have used a variety of multimedia projects to generate environmental awareness of marine biodiversity—most notably Coral City Camera, an underwater webcam streaming live from an urban reef ecosystem in PortMiami. Their citymate Nick León is a linchpin of South Florida’s contemporary leftfield electronic scene, with releases for Tra Tra Trax, Future Times, and NAAFI, and credits on records by Rosalía, GAIKA, and Iceboy Violet, among others. This collaborative project dates back to 2022, when Coral Morphologic mounted a monumental projection-mapping installation on Biscayne Boulevard. For five nights in late November and early December, macroscopic films of corals played out across the exterior of Knight Concert Hall. The installation was, on the one hand, a glimpse into a possible future, imagining how the city’s skyline might appear if unchecked global warming and rising seas led coral reefs to colonize the built environment. But it also represented a look back into the deep past, a reminder that Miami is literally built from marine limestone mined from the Everglades. Its concrete foundations began life, eons ago, as a marine ecosystem—the same ecosystem that may one day reclaim them. As above, so below. As an album, Projections of a Coral City is a suite of interconnected movements spread across two sides of vinyl. The tones are watery, the mood elegiac, the colors a washed-out pastel. Forms that appear static on the surface gradually open up to reveal hidden depths teeming with microscopic movement. You might detect resonances with other aquatically minded works—Jürgen Müller’s Science of the Sea, Harold Budd’s liquid piano compositions, even the slow-moving melancholy of Dr. Roger Payne’s Songs of the Humpback Whale. But ultimately Projections of a Coral City creates the impression of a world unto itself—a hauntingly beautiful space at the meeting point between sorrow and hope.

Finally came out! MUST !!!!! The long-awaited analogization of the phantom gem that would have been reissued from our shop if there was no current situation. The original is a masterpiece of German dub techno genius Robert Henke a.k.a. Monolake, which was released on CD only from his own label in 1999, and is the first vinyl reissue from the current dub / ambient prestigious sacred place . Set in the vast Gobi Desert in East Asia, this is a masterpiece of minimal ambient sound, with a vast, profound and nocturnal soundscape. Official reissue under the license specifications of Henke's label . This is recommended as a lifelong product. Don't miss it!!

Moon Glyph Records head Steve Rosborough returns as Omni Gardens with a brand new album entitled “Golden Pear”. The fuzzy, warm and buoyant moog timbres of “Moss King” return but “Golden Pear” is a dreamier and more lush affair; incorporating a wider palette including mellotron flutes, vibraphones, marimbas and self-captured field recordings. A tranquil, pop atmosphere permeates the album as the songs flutter between bleary, unhurried tunes, warbly soundscapes and odes to lazy afternoons. Created for relaxed home listening, this is “Golden Pear”.

Moon Glyph Records head Steve Rosborough returns as Omni Gardens with a brand new album entitled “Golden Pear”. The fuzzy, warm and buoyant moog timbres of “Moss King” return but “Golden Pear” is a dreamier and more lush affair; incorporating a wider palette including mellotron flutes, vibraphones, marimbas and self-captured field recordings. A tranquil, pop atmosphere permeates the album as the songs flutter between bleary, unhurried tunes, warbly soundscapes and odes to lazy afternoons. Created for relaxed home listening, this is “Golden Pear”.

From Justin Broadrick: The theme of this recording is the invisible world, and one's (my) need for it. It's necessary for me, this idea of the invisible world, if I am to function on a daily basis. I find comfort in knowing that this is all not just us here and now, that there's something else around us. That there's something within us, that isn't just this frail skin and bones and the immediate environments we drag ourselves around. I am sure since I was a child, that within me I am many, I am more than this. I surely can't be just this, so I am motivated by the fantasy and/or promise of more...

I stayed at memu earth lab, based in Memu (mem, Taiki Town), located in the southern part of Tokachi, eastern Hokkaido, for a total of five weeks during the winter and spring of 2021 and 2022, and recorded the sounds I encountered at various locations around the area.
Loading the recording equipment into the car, I would drive on the vast land while thinking, “Where should I go today?”
There are forests and rivers all around, and lakes and marshes dotting the coast. Away from the town centre, one rarely sees passing cars or people. On the other hand, wild foxes, red-crowned cranes, and squirrels can be seen from time to time, and the snow reveals a smattering of animal tracks.
I’d park the car at a suitable spot, carry our bags of equipment, and keep walking until I found a point that looked interesting or contained the atmosphere of something I could record. The various sounds that I encountered in this way are recorded in this work. In addition, we talked to the people who live in the area because I was interested in how and what kind of sounds they heard in their daily lives.
When I stepped out of the bungalow where we were staying on a snowy morning, 
I shivered with such silence that I thought my ears were clogged. Even in places where it seemed like one can only hear the sounds of “nature” with their own ears, the microphones captured a variety of sounds associated with human activity. For example, there are the sounds of large trucks driving on national highways, hunters shooting their prey in the mountains, airplanes passing overhead, the sound of the outdoor units of neighbouring residences, and of course, the sounds I myself make subconsciously. Still, a place where there is little background noise and small sounds can be heard clearly is worthwhile in itself. This is just such a place.
Considering both the ambient sounds I encountered in Memu, and the voices of people, without distinguishing them, I try to perceive the two things as the voice of this land. By attentively listening to the voice of the land, recording it, and listening deeply to the recorded sounds, what kind of world will emerge? The word ‘Memu’ (mem, in Ainu sound) apparently means ‘a place where springs wells up and fish gathers’ in the Ainu language. It is my hope that these sounds will intertwine with the memories and physical experiences of each listener and nurture their imagination towards the world like spring water.
 

A note from Olivier I was waiting for the bus to arrive at the stop when the rain started pouring. I quickly escaped into a chapel nearby, and that’s where the idea of this album came to be. Inside the chapel, I was reminded of the scent of Mauritius, where my father was from, and the pillars of dampen woods mixed with the ritualistic frankincense. The rain continued to hit violently on the metallic church roof as the road outside grew overwhelmed with angry drivers, honking their way through, their frustrations echoing through streets of skyscrapers in Hong Kong. They sounded like a piece of nostalgic happening, infusing sounds that I was most familiar with in this sacred architecture. This was when I decided to compose a series of work, featuring eclectic sounds of my city. Also inspired by the late Ryuichi Sakamoto, whom I revere, his exercise of restraint and Eastern philosophy led me to explore the ambience that made up my daily life, experimenting and reconstructing them with familiar instrumentations. In “Tropical Church", you will experience music composed of piano, ambient electronics, shakuhachi, Chinese yuan, guzheng and spoken words, which I think represent my feelings for home — Hong Kong. And to me, home is an old church that harbours a myriad of unspoken emotions, flowing from the West to East. Complex history hidden within the dampen pillars, the sounds of the city and the footsteps of the everyday people that liven up the streets. Most notably in the first track, “I am afraid of”, voice recordings of anonymous strangers were collected describing their deepest fears. I’m most touched by the answers as they’ve shown me the same fears of death, love and being alone we all share.

1982 by Yui Onodera In Wishlist view x Share Tweet Share on Tumblr Embed this albumsmall medium large Email supported by NxT Village Records thumbnail teeth dreams thumbnail Bruce Christensen thumbnail Jonathan Herweg thumbnail Simon Burdett thumbnail diane~marie thumbnail wiley soule thumbnail davdawid thumbnail KottonKrown thumbnail Jeramboquai thumbnail Fetafunk thumbnail williegarvin99 thumbnail Haunted Hymns thumbnail Timothée Comte thumbnail Adam Aronson thumbnail Samuel Reggio thumbnail Kyohei Kudo thumbnail Scott Moore thumbnail mgpeters thumbnail CH thumbnail leksand thumbnail Petr Studeny thumbnail coserju thumbnail John Battema thumbnail kanekofumiko thumbnail Ryan thumbnail Franetta McMillian thumbnail Dan Stark thumbnail leethu thumbnail Dan Shoebridge thumbnail Jeffrey Capshew thumbnail lawrence english thumbnail criticalpath thumbnail caigera thumbnail Joseph Gelfand thumbnail richardautry thumbnail Kseif thumbnail iit thumbnail legal_bizzle thumbnail kalmykov0615 thumbnail kastauyra thumbnail dan ichinose thumbnail 1982 III 00:00 / 01:42 Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album package image Matte laminate, monochrome printed and embossed sleeve with insert card. Includes digital pre-order of 1982. You get 2 tracks now (streaming via the free Bandcamp app and also available as a high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more), plus the complete album the moment it’s released. shipping out on or around August 23, 2024 $12 USD or more Streaming + Download Pre-order of 1982. You get 2 tracks now (streaming via the free Bandcamp app and also available as a high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more), plus the complete album the moment it’s released. releases August 23, 2024 $9 USD or more 1. 1982 I 2. 1982 II 3. 1982 III 01:42 4. 1982 IV 5. 1982 V 6. 1982 VI 7. 1982 VII 04:09 8. 1982 VIII 9. 1982 IX 10. 1982 X about A note from Yui I stayed in Iwate, where I was born, for a few days and created some sound materials using limited materials and old media. Over ten years ago, Iwate was devastated by the Great East Japan earthquake. Many old things that remained in my memory became rubble, dismantled, and new scenery was there. I bounced every song from “1982” straight onto an old tape recorder. This album that comes out of my interest in sonic "degradation and rebuilding". I treated the guitar and synthesiser in a lot of new ways, so using a lot of tape recorders and/or pedal effects. I wanted the guitar to be an extension of the ambient textures rather than technology and imperfection. The raw and the processed. We benefited greatly from the evolution and democratization of computer and audio technology in the early '00s. I was fascinated by sounds that could not be created by humans, such as real-time audio synthesis and granular synthesis. Now, 20-odd years later, I am fascinated by sounds that cannot be created with a computer. It was a unique acoustic texture created by deterioration and wear, including accidental wear, due to old technology that is disappearing. It's like a memory of my old days in Iwate.　

Through the eye of the pinkish gate... Soft lights... cool evening breezes, toxic fumes, burnt champagne and supper for one... love and longing...disenchantment... and the murky meanderings of Pinkcourtesyphone. It is impossible for us to supply all the recipe ingredients needed for this, the sounds of soured romance, but we can at least dish up the musical setting on a deluxe digital porcelain platter (with a just few hairline cracks)... but only for an hour. A gourmet offering befitting a pall party without compare. Attempts have been made in this collection of recordings, obdurate and diegetic, to express anxiety, always, often, and sometimes. 'Arise in Sinking Feelings', an unmistakable pinkcourtesy mood, simply combinations of magic and memory that spin out within moments before our delighted senses... a fanciful flight of neurosis. No one who is anyone has heard it and even they were met with incomprehension. "A Stunning Blandness!" read the headlines. This album includes a printed insert of inspiration. Use it to gain maximum benefits from your study of Pinkcourtesyphone. Read and imbibe the insert while you listen to the recording. The Room40 Media Institute recommends the ‘Double Sensory’ method of absorbing sonic information. Its consistent use will greatly increase your powers of concentration and retention. Let your feelings sink as you let Pinkcourtesyphone sink in... its secret can destroy you in its unyielding grasp.

Twin heavyweights Kevin Richard Martin (The Bug) and Joseph Kamaru (KMRU) unite for Disconnect, a powerful study of dread, hope, and profound sonics that marries depth-trawling dub with Kamaru’s voice, ambient sensibilities, and negative space. Kevin Martin first became aware of Kenyan ambient musician KMRU “watching the short 2020 documentary Under The Bridge,” he tells us. “Which, aside from immediately finding Joseph's approach to sound and music so instantly impressive, I also found his spoken voice possessed a captivating, lilting, tonal quality, with his soft-spoken accent.” Following this, Martin dug into Kamaru’s records, and found not only a kindred spirit in skillful exploration of sonic space, but also a fan of The Bug. So began a mutually respectful relationship, initially held in Instagram DMs and reciprocal admiration for each other’s work and eventually blossoming into an invitation sent by Kevin to Joseph to collaborate on a new album. The results - debut collaboration album Disconnect - collect a back-and-forth creative dialogue that started life in Martin’s studio. “I think I surprised Joseph by suggesting he contributes vocals,” Martin tells us. This ability to identify, isolate and exploit the nonstandard is a trait shared by both musicians and employed to devastating effect on Disconnect. Its vocals, sitting somewhere between intonation and spoken word, capture the ear and fizz with simmering power. They are indeed a surprise, coming from a musician specialising in instrumental, field recording-laced ambient musics, but tell intensely evocative stories, weaving poetry into the pair’s grandiose greyscale musical architecture. The record is just as deep, expressive, and arresting as we can expect from Kevin Richard Martin, following his acclaimed rescore of Solaris (released in 2021 on Phantom Limb) and a handful of self-released solo albums that explore a sound just as heavy as The Bug but at a menacingly slower pace. And it is just as evocative and unique as Kamaru’s KMRU canon, each object delicately and purposefully placed so the timbral mosaic builds with shimmering and hypnotic beauty.

On their debut LP “Pome” for Quiet Time, Liai has given us a stunning work of expertly crafted rhythmic ambience, inspired by the intimacy and solitude of the midwestern countryside. Having grown up in rural Missouri, Liai channels the mixed feelings that can accompany solo contemplation in nature - expansiveness, sentimentality, vulnerability and eeriness. This deeply personal set of tracks took 3 years to make, revealed in the precision of sound design and use of space. The work feels at once familiar and organic, yet technical and futuristic, almost alien - a product of digital melodies, granular processing and frequent sampling of their own previous works.

The second LP by Tokyo ambient conceptualists UNKNOWN ME began as a commission for historic Japanese cosmetic conglomerate Shiseido, conjuring audio approximations of seasons and scents, but soon flowered into its own refracted environment: Bitokagaku. Translated as “beauty and science,” the album is the foursome’s first composed solely with software, reflecting the collection’s utopian, laboratorial muse.

From levitational electronica (“A Rainbow in Meditative Air”) and vaporous downtempo (“Dancing Leaves”) to planetarium reverie (“Kitsune No Yomeiri”) and A.I. IDM (“Retreat Beats”), the music moves like weather patterns in a bio-dome: dazzling, microcosmic, and delicately calibrated. Percolating synths crossfade with field recordings from Shiseido’s research division; the sound of streams and distant birds blur into a processed haze; clinical voices read lists of precious stones. It’s a vision of new age as soft robotics, of serenity streamlined by sentient systems.

UM’s team of engineers (Yakenohara, P-RUFF, H. Takahashi, and Osawa Yudai) cite an eclectic swath of inspirations behind Bitokagaku – molecules, stars, Kenji Miyazawa, Akira Kurosawa, even “the sparkle of rainbows” – but their guiding artistic principle is as ancient as it is eternal: “beauty.”

‘2 Sim’ is a phrase the references mobile phones with two sim cards to describe people of mixed heritage, dual nationality or multiple residences. After being called a 2 Sim in conversation with a stranger whilst on a walk through Freetown (a recording of this moment features on the record), Duval began to explore what the 2 Sim experience is in contemporary West-Africa. 2 Sim was created from 2 months of field recordings and interviews with family, friends and peers in Freetown Sierra Leone. These site specific recordings are collaged with solo piano recordings and production recorded in Sierra Leone and the UK. The EP is accompanied by a short film/ music video of the same name which Duval shot and Directed whilst making the record. 2 Sim EP is the second release from Carrying Colour which follows on from 2017’s ‘Sen Am’

TRACE is a collection of 11 unreleased tracks produced by Yutaka Hirose during the Sound Process Design sessions, right after the release of his classic Soundscape series album Nova. Sound Process Design was Satoshi Ashikawa's label, home of his Wave Notation trilogy (Hiroshi Yoshimura’s Music For Nine Postcards, Satsuki Shibano's Erik Satie 1866-1925 and Satoshi Ashikawa's Still Way). Following Wave Notation, Sound Process Design worked with museums, cafes and bars to create site-specific soundscapes, starting with the sound design of the Kushiro Museum. Yutaka Hirose was called to work on sound for these spaces.

Rather than simply providing pre-recorded compositions, Hirose sought to create a "sound scenery". To achieve this, he participated in the conception of the space and paid particular attention to the accidental combination of sounds by placing the speakers and using a multi-sound source, and following the concept of "sculpturing time through sound".

The composer explains: "sculpturing time through sound means that the time, the space itself, the sound played in it, and the audience all become one sculpture. It is close to the idea of a Japanese tea ceremony where you use all of your 5 (or 6) senses to taste the tea."

TRACE: Sound Design Works 1986-1989 is divided into two parts. "Reflection" is based on an ambient soundscape. It narrates "a sleep that starts with the sound of water droplets at dawn and slowly disappears into darkness" and feels like a natural and soothing progression of Nova. It was played at entrances of spaces, at events, in cafes and bars. "Voice from Past Technology" expresses the dream world born out of that sleep and is based on what Yukata Hirose calls hardcore ambient, environmental music with a noise approach. It was played in museums and science centers.

All in all, TRACE is a crucial addition to every Japanese environmental music fan’s collection, alongside Midori Takada’s Through The Looking Glass, Hiroshi Yoshimura’s Green, Satoshi Ishikawa’s Still Way, Motohiko Hamase’s Notes of Forestry, Inoyamaland’s Danzindan-Pojidon, and Yutaka Hirose’s very own Nova.