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Les Rallizes Dénudés Takashi Mizutani's envisioned “Fourth Album” finally materializes after 35 years.


Shinichi Atobe has managed to stay off the grid since he made an appearance on Basic Channel's Chain Reaction imprint back in 2001. He delivered the second-to-last 12" on the label and then disappeared without a trace, leaving behind a solitary record that's been selling for crazy money and a trail of speculation that has led some people to wonder whether the project was in fact the work of someone on the Basic Channel payroll. That killer Chain Reaction 12" has also been a longtime favorite of Demdike Stare, who have been trying to follow the trail and make contact with Atobe for some time, whoever he turned out to be. A lead from the Basic Channel office turned up an address in Japan and -- unbelievably -- an album full of archival and new material. Demdike painstakingly assembled and compiled the material for this debut album. And what a weird and brilliant album it is -- deploying a slow-churn opener that sounds like a syrupy Actress track, before working through a brilliantly sharp and tactile nine-minute piano house roller that sounds like DJ Sprinkles, then diving headlong into a heady, Vainqueur-inspired drone-world. It's a confounding album, full of odd little signatures that give the whole thing a timeless feeling completely detached from the zeitgeist, like a sound bubble from another era. This is only the second album release on Demdike Stare's DDS imprint, following the release of Nate Young's Regression Vol. 3 (Other Days) (DDS 007LP) in 2013. Who knows what they might turn up next? Mastered by Matt Colton at Alchemy.

I hope that everyone who listens to this album will be able to feel a little happiness.
The above sentence was written by Nujabes himself as an introduction to the album "modal soul" on tribe at the time of its release. He did not dare to mention the contents of the songs on the album, but rather expressed his own wishes in his comments on the album, hoping that people would actually listen to the album and empathize with the songs.
Nujabes has been expressing various thoughts and feelings through the world of sound, and their second album is finally released on 2LP.
Glenn Gould's great starting point is now available in Japan in analog form from monaural masters for the first time in 57 years.
Limited Edition] Analog / 180 gram weight vinyl version.
The debut album "Goldberg Variations" was released in January 1956 and made the young Glenn Gould's name known worldwide. The last album released before his death, "Goldberg Variations," was released in September 1982, about a month before Gould's death. This work frames Gould's life like a closing circle, and is indispensable in considering his unique music. When we think of Gould, we think of Goldberg, and vice versa.
The first of a special series of six analog reissues of four different performances of this important work is the debut recording, made over four days in June 1955. It is the most successful classical music album of all time and an icon in recording history. It was cut at Sony Music Nogizaka Studio in Japan, based on high-resolution recordings carefully transferred from the original monaural masters, which were never released out of the gate.

Geogaddi is the second studio album by Scottish electronic music duo Boards of Canada, released on 18 February 2002 by Warp Records.

The Moon and the Melodies is a singular record within the Cocteau Twins’ catalog—unusually ethereal, even by their standards, and largely instrumental, guided by the free-form improvisations of Harold Budd, an ambient pioneer who had drifted into their orbit as if by divine intervention. Building on the atmospheric bliss of Victorialand, released earlier the same year, it signaled a possible future for the trio, yet it was a path the Cocteau Twins would never take again. Now, 28 years after it was first released, it has been reissued for the first time—remastered, from the original tapes, by Robin Guthrie himself.
The album was never actually meant to happen; no one can even recall exactly how it came about in the first place. As both Guthrie and Simon Raymonde remember it, the independent television station Channel 4 approached 4AD about a film project pairing musicians from different genres. In interviews in the 1980s, however, Budd, who passed away in 2020, believed that his music publisher had linked him with the Cocteaus after the group had expressed interest in covering one of his songs. In any case, the film never happened. “But we’d spoken to Harold, and we were all quite excited about it—in a very sort of downbeat Cocteau Twins way, where we were rarely excited about anything,” Raymonde recalls. “We’re like, well, let’s carry on and do it anyway—you’ve already booked your flight, let’s just hang out in the studio and see what happens.”
“There was a lot of hilarity,” Guthrie says. “It was strange to have an older man in our life, because Liz and I saw everybody around us—the contemporary bands, the people running record labels, the journalists—as grownups. We were literally kids. I thought, ‘Oh Christ, he’s going to be some pompous, you know, into his classical music,’ and he wasn’t. He was just a big man-child. We clicked in that respect.”
The Cocteau Twins had recently built their own recording studio in North Acton, in West London. It was the first time they’d had their own space, and they relished their newfound freedom. “We were in this lovely little bubble of making our own music,” Raymonde says. Budd fit right into their bubble world; all four musicians got on immediately. Over pints at the pub, they talked about everything but music, and in the studio, Raymonde and Budd both say that very little, if anything, was discussed, save perhaps for questions of tempo or key.
“Harold would sit down at the piano and start playing something, and then maybe I’d pick up a bass and start playing along with him,” Raymonde says. “They were very much noodles rather than songs. That was the way we tended to work anyway. Work out what kind of mood are we feeling, get a drum beat going, just a two-bar pattern; Guthrie would plug his guitar in, I would plug my bass in, and then we’d just jam for a few minutes and go, ‘Yeah, that was cool, let’s carry on doing that thing or that thing,’ really casually, and then all of a sudden we’d have a song. I know that sounds ludicrous, but that is how we did it, and with Harold it was exactly the same.”
Budd played a Yamaha CP-70 electric grand, and the group came armed with a growing arsenal of gear, like the Yamaha Rev7 multi-effects processor and Lexicon PCM60, perhaps an Ensoniq Mirage. Guthrie used an EBow on his guitars, along with a Gizmo, an electromechanical device invented by Godley and Creme. Guthrie remembers endless experiments in search of new sounds: “Lots of messing around, tuning the guitar strings all the same, getting droney sorts of things—really big, loud, sort of Metallica-like feedback sounds, but then put in the mix so quietly you can hardly hear them the first time you listen. All these psychoacoustic sort of tricks that I liked. It’s all in there, you know. Just being fearless—if it didn’t work out, it was never going to be a record anyway.”
The musicians’ contrasting approaches ended up shaping the album’s somewhat curious format—four instrumentals in Budd’s meandering style, more tone poems than actual songs, and four more structured pieces with verses, choruses, drum machine, and, of course, Elizabeth Fraser’s inimitable singing, as bold and inspired as anywhere in the band’s catalog. There was no conscious decision to have Fraser only sing on four songs. “That’s just what came out of the sessions,” Guthrie says. “It was a lightweight atmosphere making it, because we didn’t actually feel that we were making a record at the time. We were trying out some stuff in the studio, and it just evolved into what it did. Which is, essentially, a recorded version of some people trying out some stuff in the studio.”
The sessions were over in two weeks, maybe three. “And that was already getting a bit long,” Guthrie says, “because some of our earlier records had taken just a couple of days.” They fleshed out the material, he adds, with one more song that the trio wrote in Budd’s absence, after they realized they didn’t have quite enough material for a full album. (“Was I that drunk?” Budd asked, upon hearing the final version of the album, which included a song he had no recollection of making.) As much as it may pain fans to hear it, there is no more extant material from the sessions—no outtakes, no rough drafts, no alternate versions. “For the 13 years I was in the band, we have no spare tracks at all,” Raymonde says. “If after an hour or two a track wasn’t coming together, we’d just get rid of it. If it wasn’t good now, our attitude was, it’ll never be any good. So we’d think, tomorrow’s another day—let’s go to the cinema and come back tomorrow, and see how it goes. Let’s go bowling.”
The other curious thing about the album—the fact that it was credited to all four players under their individual names—followed the same intuitive logic as everything else that went into the record. “It’s because it wasn’t a Cocteau Twins album,” Guthrie says. Raymonde concurs: “It was simple. All four of us have gone into the studio and done something, but it isn’t a Cocteau Twins album.” But perhaps the passage of time has changed matters. These days, on streaming services, you’ll find the album filed chronologically alongside the rest of the band’s work. “What’s interesting,” Guthrie adds, “is that I got the tape boxes from the studio, and guess what it says on it? ‘Cocteau Twins plus Harold Budd.’” Perhaps, he seems to suggest, the group got hung up on a detail that never really mattered. In any case, Raymonde says, “The more credit that Harold gets for the work he did, the more people that find his music because it’s in the Cocteau environment, the better.”
Despite all its quirks, The Moon and the Melodies has attracted a passionate fan base over the years. Its most atmospheric tracks routinely turn up in ambient DJ sets. 'Sea, Swallow Me' is one of the Cocteau Twins’ most streamed songs on Spotify, second only to Heaven or Las Vegas’ 'Cherry-coloured Funk'; it has also found new life on TikTok, where it serves as the soundtrack to innumerable expressions of hard-to-express melancholy. For such a low-key affair, the album casts a long shadow—but Raymonde believes the record’s uniqueness stems directly from its humble, unpremeditated origins. “It’s always about making something that’s pleasurable,” he says, “capturing a moment in time between friends that are enjoying making music together. Really, that’s the essence of it—the music was just a reflection of how nice a time we were having in the studio.”
The third (and most impressive) of four volumes of dub mixes from the studio of producer Joe Gibbs, African Dub, Chapter 3 finds engineer Errol Thompson getting a bit more adventurous than he had on the earlier installments. More of these dub versions keep shreds and snatches of the original vocal tracks in the mix, which is almost always a plus in a dub context -- little snippets of disembodied vocals float through the otherworldly musical atmosphere, lending a sometimes spooky human element to the sound and often casting new and refracted light on the meaning of the original lyrics. And on this volume, Thompson seems to be taking a few cues from his competitor Lee "Scratch" Perry, throwing such extramusical elements as water sounds (on "Freedom Call") and ringing telephones (on "Jubilation Dub") into the mix along with the usual gossamer shreds of guitar, horn, and keyboard. Highly recommended. - Rick Anderson
First released in 1971, Le Monde Fabuleux des Yamasuki is a delirious cult album that sounds as mischievous and unclassifiable now as it did then. Conceived not as a band but as a studio-born fantasy, YAMASUKI created a pan-cultural pop opera that gleefully ignored genre boundaries and common sense. Produced by Jean Kluger and written with Daniel Vangarde, the album sits at a surreal crossroads of psychedelic pop, funk, samba and bubblegum melodies. Phonetic pseudo-Japanese chants, performed by a children’s choir, collide with ritualistic cries from a Japanese judo grandmaster, turning each track into a playful piece of sonic theatre. What began as a single quickly expanded into a fully realised concept, one whose influence has travelled far beyond novelty. Elements of Yamasuki have resurfaced through reinterpretations, samples and pop mutations across decades, from underground soul and hip hop to mainstream chart pop and television soundtracks. Revisited today, Le Monde Fabuleux des Yamasuki remains a reminder that pop can be strange, joyful and inventive without explanation. It is music that laughs at rules, dances around definitions and proves that imagination never dates.
Kikagaku Moyo's debut album exerts an elemental power. Enlivening their sound with sitars, percussive drums, theremins, wind instruments and ethereal vocals, the band manages to sound powerfully spacious and lazily serene all at once. Their songs can be light as air, or heavy as earth. Many evolve out of intense experiences of engagement with the natural world. The album’s first track, “Can You Imagine Nothing?” was written over a night spent jamming on a suspended footbridge in remote mountains. As the song progressed the bridge began to sway, making band members feel as though they were floating weightless in midair. =Band Description= Kikagaku Moyo started in the summer of 2012 busking on the streets of Tokyo. Though the band started as a free musiccollective, it quickly evolved into a tight group of multi-instrumentalists. Kikagaku Moyo call their sound psychedelicic because it encompasses a broad spectrum of influence. Their music incorporates elements of classical Indian music, Krautrock, Traditional Folk, and 70s Rock. Most importantly their music is about freedom of the mind and body and building a bridge between the supernatural and the present. Improvisation is a key element to their sound.

Previously released on May 20th 2014. Kikagaku Moyo here sound anything but lost, their child-like wonder manifested in a confident, courageous exploration of sound. Labels – psychedelic, folk, prog-rock, psychedelic-folk-mixed-with-prog-rock – do little to accurately reflect the spectrum of influences on display, let alone the more impactful realization of completeness in Kikagaku Moyo’s songs.


On “Cold Sweat,” James Brown famously called to “give the drummer some.” In 1974, Philadelphia vibraphonist Khan Jamal called to Give the Vibes Some, with superb results. Pianist and composer Jef Gilson’s PALM label gave Jamal the platform he needed to deliver a thorough exploration of contemporary vibraphone. After launching PALM in 1973, Gilson quickly demonstrated that he would only produce records not found anywhere else. Give the Vibes Some, PALM number 10, was another confirmation of this guiding principle.
Raised and based in Philadelphia, Khan Jamal took up the vibes in 1968, after two years in the army during which he was stationed in France and Germany. Decisively drawn to the instrument by the work of the Modern Jazz Quartet’s Milt Jackson, Jamal studied under Philadelphia vibraphone legend Bill Lewis and soon made his debuts in the local underground.
Early in 1972, Jamal made his first recording, with the Sounds of Liberation. The band attempted an original fusion of conga-heavy grooves with avant-garde jazz soloing. Saxophonist Byard Lancaster, an important figure in Jamal’s development, contributed much of the solo work. Later in 1972, Jamal made his leader debut with Drum Dance to the Motherland, a reverb-drenched, never-to-be-replicated experiment with live sound processing. Both albums appeared on the tiny musician-run Dogtown label.
“We couldn’t get no play from nowhere. No gigs or recording sessions or anything. So I took off for Paris,” Jamal recalled in a Cadence interview with Ken Weiss. “Within a few weeks, I had a few articles and I did a record date. It didn’t make me feel good about America.” That was in 1974, while Byard Lancaster was recording the music gathered on Souffle Continu’s recent The Complete PALM Recordings, 1973-1974.
Jamal’s record date delivered Give the Vibes Some. At its core, it was an exploratory solo vibraphone album, even if two tracks added (through technological resourcefulness?) a très célèbre French drummer very much into Elvin Jones appearing under pseudonym for contractual reasons. Another track, for which Jamal switched to the vibes’s wooden ancestor, the marimba, added young Texan trumpeter Clint Jackson III. The most notable article published on Jamal during this stay in France was a Jazz Magazine interview. Jamal’s last word there were “The Creator has a master plan/drum dance to the motherland.” “Give the vibes some” could be added to this programmatic statement.

Keith Hudson’s Nuh Skin Up Dub is a heavyweight dub album that stands out as one of the most potent statements in the genre’s history. Released in 1979, this sonic masterpiece showcases Hudson’s dark, almost mystical production style, where heavy bass lines, echo-drenched drums, and ghostly fragments of vocals swirl together in a hypnotic haze. It was also the first time Hudson highlighted the significant role played by his favorite studio band, the legendary Soul Syndicate, who he had already been working with for some years. Despite providing backing tracks for many important Jamaican artists and big hits, the band rarely received the recognition due.
Unlike the more polished, accessible dub records of the time, Nuh Skin Up Dub is raw, unfiltered, and experimental, pushing the boundaries of rhythm and space. Tracks like “No Commitment” and “Ire Ire” pulse with an eerie, almost menacing energy, while Hudson’s masterful use of reverb and delay creates a soundscape that feels simultaneously expansive and claustrophobic. It’s a record that also rewards deep listening—every spin reveals new layers of sonic detail, hidden textures, and dub wizardry.
Often referred to as the “Dark Prince of Reggae,” Hudson had an uncanny ability to craft music that was both deeply meditative and unsettling. Nuh Skin Up Dub is a prime example of his genius, solidifying his status as one of the most visionary figures in reggae history.
Light as a feather and colorful as the autumn and spring: the new album of Kuniyuki Takahashi, sometimes known as Koss, is an affair of the heart. It spreads love while revealing that the man from Tokyo is one of the finest Japanese producers at the frontier of classic, jazz, house, ambient, and electronic songwriting. One thing all his artistic expressions have in common: they are loaded with tones and rhythms straight from the heart that filter and modulate human emotions without losing their natural source. Until today he released five full length albums and countless Eps on Mule Musiq. And this with an artistic progression from an electronic producer to a musician that melts organic instruments with electronic sounds while showing his love for free spirited rhythms and bittersweet melodies. He is also a man of collaborations and already worked together with such one off a kind artists like Innervisions jazz house icon Henrik Schwarz . Under his second nom de plume Koss he also produced beside lots of albums and EPs a jazz infiltrated ambient trip together with the Swedish Minilogue boys Marcus Henriksson and Sebastian Mullaert. His new album features now again guests like Bugge Wesseltoft, Anne Clark, or Henrik Schwarz – just to name a few. They all play with and not for him! A quality that attributes to Kuniyuki’s way of sharing music and to his rich diversified knowledge about it. Because beside his work as a musician he breath sounds all day long and listens to tons of possible musical expression from all decades to keep his consciousnees wide open. This openess is inscripted in „Feather World“ all over the place. The album opens with „Before Creation“ – a slow ambient intro enriched with a sweet piano phrase, strings, and a clandestine loop driven rhythm. Then comes „Inner Groove“ - a composition in which Norway’s terrific jazz pianist Bugge Wesseltoft jams playful to an airy rhythm arrangement that reminds partly on Herbie Hancocks spiritual „Rain Dance“ and that grooves with a Jaco Pastorius funk bass coolness. Thereon Kuniyuki travels to Africa, drops an earthly rhythm and let the singer Sona Diabaté from the West African Republic of Guinea hum soulful together with a wild but noble touching African guitar melody. All those who are familiar with Kuniyuki’s work know about his passion for house music made by such heroes like José „Cochise“ Claussell. With the track „Shout“ he assures this love while using electrifying percussion beats that dance around deep melancholic saxophone melodies played by Tetsuro Kawashima, one of Japan’s most famous saxophone players. That followed the guitar mojo ambient composition „The Big Wall“ which functions like a little bridge that ease the listener before entering the second part of the album. This starts with the dancefloor bomb „The Session 2“ – which Kuniyuki produced with his longtime buddy Henrik Schwarz. A house track full of stirring jazz flute madness and rhodes driven chords that got everything it takes to put a smile on the lips of dancers who like to enjoy jazzy mood experiments. Subsequent with „Between Shadow and Lights“ he continues to keep his eyes on the dancefloor – this time with a more minimalistic foggy arrangement to which the legendary New Wave spoken word queen Anne Clarke chants with her incompareable androgyn cold chilling voice. It is not that last time that Kuniyuki features extraodinary vocals on „Feather World“. In the very last quite part of the longplayer also Joyce Bowden, known for her heartfelt contribution to the Arthur Russel compilation album „Another Thought“, hums to a folk influenced slow rythmn track that waves the listener a goodbye from a freethinking album to which he will return to forever!

At the latest with the release of the albums "Zauberberg" and "Königsforst", in the mid-1990s, one associates GAS, Wolfgang Voigt's very own artistic cross-linking of the spirit of Romanticism and the forest as an artistic fantasy projection surface, with intoxicatingly blurred boundaries of post-ambient infatuation and the impenetrable thicket of abstract atonality. The distant, iconic straight bass drum marching through highly condensed, abstract sounds taken from classical music by the sampler or modulated accordingly, and the enraptured gaze through pop art glasses into the hypnotic thicket of an imaginary forest, manifested over the years this unique connection of audio and visual, which to understand fully, then as now, would be neither possible nor desirable.
Quite the opposite. The album GAS - DER LANGE MARSCH once again invites us to follow the deep sounding bass drum, to give in to its irresistible pull into a psychedelic world of 1000 promises. In the process, the journey leads us past stations of memories sounding from afar, from "Zauberberg" to "Königsforst" and "Pop", from "Oktember" to "Narkopop" and "Rausch", back and forth, now and forever.
Way. Destination. Loop. Forest loop.

OKTEMBER is the second EP release under Wolfgang Voigt’s mythical GAS project (it follows "Modern“ on Profan, 1995). The 2 compositions were originally released in 1999 on Mille Plateaux, and then reissued partially in 2016 on GAS “BOX”. OKTEMBER is finally released on Voigt's own label KOMPAKT, pressed on 180 gram vinyl in its original artwork.
This reissue features “Tal ‘90“ (instead of the original A side) – a predecessor to the GAS project originally recorded in 1990 under the alias TAL, it was released as a part of the Pop Ambient 2002 collection. With its sampled strings, horns and guitars, "Tal 90” soundtracks a more uplifting side to what is typically accustomed to being the sound of GAS. The title track “Oktember” is a dense, hypnotic affair that conjures a unique vision of dub techno that few have been able to replicate.
A monumental soundtrack to uncertain times.


Being pioneers with a new album created in no more than 6 months, THE ORB are bound to be exposed to fan expectations running high, while quizzical questions about little fluffy clouds and the good old times take over. It's especially jarring as the duo of accomplished soundsmiths Alex Paterson and Thomas Fehlmann has become known for its genre-bending curiosity and surprising sonic detours, exploring experimental soundscapes as well as club-friendly beats. The funny thing is, though, that whatever the context, you know a track from THE ORB when you hear it. Case in point: COW / CHILL OUT, WORLD!, their latest full-length offering - a masterful ambient album that branches out in many directions, but unmistakably sounds like THE ORB in either ear (and probably to your third ear, too).
"The idea was simply to make an ambient album", Dr Paterson explains, "we didn't look back and study earlier recordings, but wanted a more spontaneous approach, a focus on THE ORB today, our vibe in 2016." In contrast to their much-acclaimed previous full-length MOONBUILDING 2703 AD (KOMPAKT 330 CD 124) - which took years to prepare and finetune -, the new album was produced over the course of only five sessions in six months, directly following the like-minded ALPINE EP (KOMPAKT 339): "it got so spontaneous that a track like 9 ELMS OVER RIVER ENO (CHANNEL 9) consisted only of material collected at North Carolina's Moogfest in May – second-hand records from local stores, field recordings, live samples from gigs that we liked, and of course an excursion to the Eno River, which actually exists. This geographic intimacy and the spontaneity are among the top reasons why we love this album so much."
Herr Fehlmann sees the duo's relentless gigging schedule as a formative influence on the new album: "the countless performances we've played in the last years - probably up to 300 - have brought us closer as a musical unit. The spice of our concerts is improvisation - a fertile process that we’ve brought to the studio, where we operate with very simple rules of engagement (in this case "ambient") and go wherever the flow takes us." It's an approach that one might expect from traditional acoustic instrumentation, not necessarily an electronic set-up, but for THE ORB it works wonders: "we're quite happy and also a little bit proud that we've reached this level of unscripted levity with purely electronic means. We're finessing ourselves, sort of, always looking for the next sonic surprise that leaves us rubbing our eyes about how the heck we got there."
Once more, THE ORB's trademark playfulness is on full display on COW / CHILL OUT, WORLD!, and it doesn't limit itself to the multi-layered sampling and psychedelic sound composites that the duo has become known for - you'll find it in the album title as well. The simple invitation (or order?) to chill out (relax? Calm the eff down?) is converted into an acronym – and the cow that you might expect to find on a Pink Floyd cover or with iconic UK chill-out/dance pranksters The KLF. It's not so much an obscure trope coming full circle as a perfect example for THE ORB's multitimbral approach to sound and meaning - a compelling, immersive journey to diverse places and impressions. Each track title is a conceptual work in its own right, playing with multiple references, some of which remain highly personal and mysterious. But the greatest feat of THE ORB's latest outing might just be how all this semantic doodling never gets in the way of the actual listening, at all times directly relating the artists' sonic vitality and cheerful nosiness. Chill out world! and treat yourself to an outstanding new ambient experience from THE ORB.
Thomas Fehlmann remains as one of the most endearing and respected artists on Kompakt. He has inspired generations of fans and musicians over the course of his 30+ year career. From his early days as part of the legendary band Palais Schaumburg, and the pioneering Detroit/Berlin act 3mb (With Juan Atkins and Moritz Von Oswald), to his longstanding membership with The Orb, combined with his contributions as a solo artist to esteemed imprints R&S, Plug Research and of course Kompakt, where we have proudly released two full length solo albums: Visions Of Blah (Kompakt CD 20/Kompakt 67) and Honigpumpe (Kompakt CD 59 / Kompakt 157), his musical works have been prolific, not to mention four singles and a full serving of tracks found on our Pop Ambient and Total collections. Now, after 3 years, Fehlmann returns with 'Gute Luft'…
