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following the success of their 2024 PPU EP "ramble in the rainbow", TAMTAM returns to their studio "where they dwell"

Swan Song
The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 [tracks 2 to 11] was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.
Ethiopia 1976.
The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.
ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä
It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.
The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.
Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.
The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.
Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…
1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.
Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.
The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.
Dahlak Band, forgotten by History
Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.
Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.
It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.
A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.
With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.
In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.
Warning! Masterpiece!
FRANCAIS
Le Chant du Cygne
L’album 33 tours au cœur de ces éthiopiques [plages 2 à 11] est l’un des derniers vinyles publié en Ethiopie, mais surtout il nous paraît être le chef-d’œuvre absolu de l’Ethiopian Groove – le Chant du Cygne du Swinging Addis. Il laisse à la postérité une idée claire du niveau de sophistication et de maîtrise qu’avait atteint la musique moderne éthiopienne avant d’être écrabouillée sous la botte militaro-stalinienne du Derg – le sigle qui signe la sanglante révolution en cours.
Ethiopie 1976.
La Révolution qui a éclaté en février 1974 avance à marche forcée. La société éthiopienne tout entière est brutalement étourdie. Les gerbes de fleurs offertes avec allégresse aux premiers tankistes du coup d’état ont très vite fané. Entre septembre 1976 et février 1978, 18 mois de Terreur Rouge (ainsi consacrée par la junte elle-même) vont ensanglanter le pays. La jeunesse estudiantine paiera le plus lourd tribut à ces vindictes fratricides. Passer d’une féodalité hors d’âge à un stalinisme primitif et cruel traumatisera pour longtemps chaque citoyen et étouffera toute velléité d’agitation, dans quelque champ de la société que ce soit. Cette glaciation durera dix-sept interminables années.
ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä
C’est Muluken qui a ouvert éthiopiques-1 avec trois titres, voilà 25 ans et plus. Sept autres titres sont parus dans éthiopiques 3, 10 et 13, tous accompagnés par The Equators, qui deviendront bientôt le Dahlak Band.
Le titre inaugural, Hédètch alu, également premier morceau gravé par Muluken, a troublé et bluffé le public. Trahissant l’extrême jeunesse de l’interprète (il avait alors 17 ans), cette voix séraphique a mystifié plus d’un auditoire qui pensait avoir affaire à des accents féminins. Il n’a pas 22 ans lorsqu’il publie en 1976 son dernier vinyle sur Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), l’un des tout derniers publiés en Éthiopie avant que la cassette ne devienne le médium roi de la diffusion musicale – et avant que le nouveau régime révolutionnaire ne mette un terme à toute vie musicale indépendante par une innommable batterie d’interdits et autres persécutions.
Mulu qèn, littéralement Une journée [bien] remplie. Ce baptême tout maternel ne suffira pas à conjurer un funeste sort. Le décès précoce de sa mère conduira le jeune Muluken à quitter son Godjam natal, dans le Nord-Ouest éthiopien, pour vivre chez un oncle à Addis Abeba. Né Muluken Tamer, il prendra le nom de cet oncle pour patronyme – Mèllèssè.
C’est la graphie Muluken que retiendra l’état-civil. Les transcriptions de l’amharique en alphabet latin, en Ethiopie comme pour les linguistes, sont l’objet de controverses et autres chicanes jamais unanimement résolues. Le français permet de s’approcher au mieux de la prononciation originale grâce à sa batterie d’accents qui déroutent tant les anglophones.
Entre un état-civil éthiopien accommodant et les variantes parsemant les interviews de l’artiste, l’année de naissance de Muluken oscille entre 1953 et 1955…
1954 ? Ce qui est sûr, c’est que le talent de l’artiste s’est exprimé ultra précocement puisqu’il fait ses débuts en 1966-67, à 13 ou 14 ans. Les photos de l’époque attestent son extrême jeunesse. Singulière initiation pour un très jeune teenager que d’enfiévrer le quartier chaud de la noctambulie addissine d’alors, Woubé Bèrèha – le Maquis de Woubé. Et dans le club de la reine de la nuit qui plus est, la Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, celle-la même qu’à croquée Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér dans son roman-témoignage Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… Une tenancière légendaire dont se souviennent encore les vieux boomers de la capitale.
Muluken tâte d’abord de la batterie avant de s’emparer du micro. Il émigrera brièvement au Zula Club, en face de la vieille Poste d’Addis, un de ces bars pionniers de l’effervescence musicale, avant de rejoindre le Second Police Band en 1968, pendant trois ans environ. Quelques mois au sein d’un éphémère Blue Nile Band monté par le saxophoniste Besrat Tammènè et, le succès grandissant, la scène musicale se dégageant lentement mais fermement des institutions, Muluken sort son premier 45 tours en février 1972 (Amha Records AE 440), repris en septembre de la même année dans deux LP compilations Ethiopian Hit Parade. En tout et pour tout, Muluken publiera huit 45 tours deux titres et autant de cassettes originales entre février 1972 et 1984, année de son départ pour un exil définitif aux USA. Converti au pentecôtisme depuis 1980, Muluken abandonne petit à petit toute activité musicale profane. En 1985, à la fin d’un concert donné à Philadelphie, il décide d’arrêter pour de bon concerts et enregistrements. Mèlakè Gèbré, le bassiste historique du Walias band qui l’accompagnait ce soir-là, se souvient que tout semblait si irrémédiablement démoniaque aux yeux de Muluken que c’en était fini désormais de sa contribution au groove éthiopien.
Fin d’une histoire, début d’une légende.
Dahlak Band, oublié de l’Histoire
Histoire personnelle et magie vocale mises à part, il faut retenir que Muluken Mèllèssè fut l’un des derniers très grands noms de l’innovation musicale produite durant la fin de l’époque impériale. Ces éthiopiques se veulent convaincantes pour ceux qui découvrent cette pépite... Quant aux Ethiopiens, ils sont toujours captivés par cette personnalité singulière et atypique du paysage pop abyssin – en dépit de son effacement public depuis quarante ans. Amateurs impénitents de poétique contournée et de sens plus ou moins caché, ils apprécient par-dessus tout le soin mis par Muluken dans le choix de ses textes et de ses paroliers, telles Feqertè Haylou, Alemtsèhay Wèdadjo, et Shèwalul Mengistu ici (1944-1977). Chansons d’amour écrites par des femmes, loin des conventionnelles niaiseries chères aux cœurs d’artichaut.
Muluken est aussi reconnu pour son perfectionnisme en matière de musique, à l’opposé d’une désinvolture trop coutumière. Il demeure le complice fidèle de musiciens issus d’une filiation qui emprunte à plusieurs Bands pionniers autant qu’inventifs (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). On retrouve parmi eux des éléments qui ont commencé leur vie musicale sous la direction de Nersès Nalbandian au Théâtre Haylè-Sellassié Ier et qui arrivent à maturité vers 1973 – au mauvais moment si l’on ose dire. Les piliers Shimèlis Bèyènè (trompette), Dawit Yifru (claviers) et Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flûte) sont de ceux-là. Tilayé Gèbrè en particulier, certainement l’un des musiciens, compositeur et arrangeurs parmi les plus importants de sa génération et de la toute fin de l’ère impériale, puis du début du Derg.
Il faudra attendre 1981 pour que se présente une miraculeuse occasion d’échapper au paradis stalinien du dictateur Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Une fois encore, c’est Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) qui trouve la solution. Génial et courageux producteur désormais en exil à Washington depuis 1975, il parvient, au prix d’une persévérance inimaginable, à faire venir le Walias Band aux USA. En fait, un Walias élargi à dix musiciens3 dont six choisiront de prendre la tangente après quelques concerts américains et l’enregistrement d’un LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè sera de la partie. Il vit toujours aux USA depuis lors. Il y a rejoint une diaspora éthiopienne alors naissante, quasi autarcique et modérément conquérante du marché musical américain. Il nous paraît injuste que Tilayé Gèbrè et le Dahlak Band n’aient pu profiter plus tôt de la reconnaissance publique qui leur revient.
Pareille hémorragie de talents de premier ordre conduira à la refonte des groupes majeurs du “Derg Time”. Les éléments restants vont se répartir entre Ibex Band (renommé Roha Band), Ethio Star Band et un Walias Band remanié. Fin annoncée du Dahlak Band.
Avec ce disque, produit par l’essential Ali Abdella Kaifa dit Ali Tango, on mesure tout ce que le Derg a non seulement détruit, mais aussi empêché de s’épanouir. Ce joyau d’afrobeat à l’éthiopienne est paru en 1976 (entre parenthèses : avant le FESTAC 1977 de Lagos où se rendra une imposante délégation de musiciens éthiopiens — mais Fela était déjà personna non grata dans son pays). Malgré tout ce qui peut le différencier de Fela – aucune revanche coloniale à prendre, pas question d’affrontement politique avec le pouvoir, aucune revendication de négritude ou d’africanité pour les musiciens éthiopiens, et moindre extraversion ! –, ce LP s’inscrit en beauté dans la saga de la soul intense et électrisée du nouveau groove “africain” que Fela et Manu Dibango symbolisent si bien désormais.
En resituant ce disque dans l’épopée de l’afrobeat, on se rend compte que la chronologie rend au moins leurs lettres de noblesse et leur historique primeur à des œuvres sans impact international au moment de leur parution.
Attention ! chef-d’œuvre !

Compiled by Hunee, 'Sounds from the Far East' features highly sought after material by legendary Japanese house producer Soichi Terada and fellow producers Shinichiro Yokota, Manabu Nagayama!
Soichi Terada is an adventurous multitalent and over all a good sport. He was born in the sixties, and as a child he loved to play on his fathers’ electric organ. Terada majored in Computer Science and Electric Organ and after he graduated, he founded his Far East Recording in 1989, because he couldn't find a label for his compositions at that time.
The sound of Far East Recording is very much inspired by early nineties US deep house. Soichi Terada went out to parties in the late eighties, were he was equally influenced by house and hip-hop. A few years later, Terada took on producing music by using digital sampling. In the early nineties he occasionally DJ-ed with a DAT player and some reel tapes, instead of using records and turntables.
"Sounds From The Far East" shines new light on Soichi Terada's label and consists of material that was originally released in the early nineties. Next to Terada's music, Hunee also selected a few tracks by fellow artist Shinichiro Yokota for this compilation, as well as 'Sun Showered', a track based on the incredible Paradise Garage gem called 'Sunshower', by Terada and Nami Shimada.

NooPop Records proudly presents 'Naissoo Freeform Quintet,' led by keyboard maestro Tõnu Naissoo.
Recorded in Tallinn during two electrifying, improvisational sessions in July 2024, this LP captures the infectious energy of funk, the adventurous spirit of free jazz, and infused with a nostalgic nod to the psychedelic era.
This album is a celebration of dynamic percussive rhythms and exploratory sound of Bass Clarinet, Rhodes, Moog Source and ARP Odyssey, offering a unique blend of past and future musical influences.
Whether you're a jazz aficionado, a groove enthusiast, or simply a lover of innovative music, "Naissoo Freeform Quintet" is an essential addition to your collection. Join us on this cosmic expedition and discover the infinite possibilities of sound that await in the astral realms of plate reverb and tape delay.
"Naissoo Freeform Quintet" is a rare gem for collectors and music lovers alike. Grab yours before it’s gone and embark on this stellar journey!

Neon Castle hones in on a fleeting sub-genre of early to mid-’80s female fronted ambient folk. For a brief moment, glistening slide guitar, ethereal voices, fretless bass, drum machines and satin sounds all intertwined, conjuring a sound at once familiar and otherworldly—pop structures laced with strange visions. Some songs sway with the warmth of open ranch-land—originating from the same myths Stevie Nicks devoted herself to; others are shrouded with candlelit mysticism, crafted with the very staff Kate Bush might have wielded. Together, these pieces reveal a singular tapestry.
Compiled by Charles Bals—now in his third collaboration with Smiling C—Neon Castle affirms his rare gift for storytelling through sound. Each track unfolds like a scene from an imagined film: castles glowing with noble gas, kingdoms awash in purple haze, wild horses roaming free, hair cascading to the waist. The collection sketches a realm both new and 'upon a time', a world where fantasy takes shape through music. With Neon Castle, attentive listening becomes narrative.
Veego Records re-issues the cult 1984 french electronic LP from Loukas Thanos.
"Veego Records proudly presents the first-ever vinyl reissue of Jazzburger by Lucas Thanos. The title track “Jazzburger,” rediscovered through Dekmantel’s Profondo Nero compilation, blends cold minimal synths, slow-motion disco, and eerie cinematic tension, featuring the ghostly vocals of Idyli Tsaliki.
Includes 2 previously unreleased tracks, an early demo version of Jazzburger as well as a demo of Μόνο ένα Λεπτό. The reissue also includes “Break,” probably the first rap song ever recorded in Greece, echoing the electro-funk style of Egyptian Lover, and “Set on Fire,” a pure slice of French disco elegance.
A rare collection that bridges Italo Disco, New Wave, minimal wave, and early European electronic experimentation, Jazzburger is a long-lost time capsule brought back to life for a new generation of listeners."

In the final month of 2024, Meitei arrived in Beppu, a city long steeped in vapor, myth, and mineral memory. Invited to create onsen ambient music commemorating Beppu’s 100th anniversary, he immersed himself in the city’s geothermal psychogeography, where sound rises from the ground and time clings to mist.
Known for his Lost Japan (Shitsu-nihon) works, which channel forgotten eras into flickering auditory relics, Meitei took residence in the warehouse of Yamada Bessou, a century-old inn perched by the bay. Over two weeks, he listened intently to steam, to stone, to the atmosphere itself. The resulting work, Sen’nyū, traces the inner spirit of onsen culture. Like water finding its path, the music emerged with quiet inevitability, shaped by Meitei’s synesthetic sensibility and deep attunement to place.
Equipped with a microphone, he wandered Beppu’s sacred sites: Takegawara Onsen, Bouzu Jigoku, Hebin-yu, and the private baths of Yamada Bessou. There, he captured the breath of the springs, bubbling mud, hissing vents, wind against bamboo, and the murmurs of daily visitors. These field recordings became the sonic bedrock of Sen’nyū, an act of deep listening that attempts to render even the rising mist and shifting heat into sound.
Unfolding as a single, continuous piece, Sen’nyū drifts like fog through sulfur and stone. It traverses the veiled madness of Bouzu Jigoku, the spectral resonance of Yamada Bessou’s inner bath, and the hushed voices of Takegawara Onsen. It is a gesture of quiet reverence, for water’s patience, the land’s memory, and the hands that have bathed here for generations.
Where Meitei’s earlier works conveyed his personal impression of a fading Japan, Sen’nyū is grounded in tactile presence, music not imagined but encountered. Here, his practice moves closer to the spirit of kankyō ongaku, environmental music born from place, shaped by it, and inseparable from it.
As part of the project, Meitei conceived a two-day public sound installation inside Takegawara Onsen, culminating in a live performance. Bathers soaked in mineral-rich waters while submerged in sound, an embodied ritual of place, body, and listening.
Sen’nyū marks Meitei’s first full-length work centered entirely on onsen and opens a new chapter of his Lost Japan project under the expanded title 失日本百景 (One Hundred Lost Views of Japan), a series exploring extant sites of longing still quietly breathing within contemporary life. The album will be accompanied by Meitei’s first photo book, a visual document of his time in Beppu. A new layer is added to the world he has, until now, built only through sound.
Sen’nyū continues Meitei’s devotion to Japan as subject, while opening new terrain: both ritual and remembrance, an immersion into the mineral soul of Beppu.

Japanese vibraphonist and marimba player Masayoshi Fujita returns with Migratory, his masterful new solo album, where his sonic explorations into the unknown continue.
In 2020, after 13 years of living in Berlin, Fujita returned to his native Japan with his wife and their three children, fulfilling his life-long dream of living and composing music in the midst of nature. The family found their new home in the mountain hills along the coast of Kami-cho, Hyōgo, three hours west of Kyoto.
Once settled in, Fujita spent his time turning an old kindergarten into his own music studio, Kebi Bird Studio, which became the birthplace of Migratory. On his new album, the composer and producer masterfully reimagines and mesmerises with his trademark sounds of vibraphone, and resumes his experimentation with the marimba and synthesisers that he first incorporated on his 2021 album, Bird Ambience, which followed the release of his acclaimed vibraphone triptych: Stories (2012), Apologues (2015) and Book of Life (2018).
On Fujita’s ever-evolving list of collaborators, Migratory introduces vocals from Moor Mother on ‘Our Mother’s Lights’ and Hatis Noit on ‘Higurashi’, as well as shō and saxophone to its soundscapes.
Whilst at a music residency in Stockholm in 2021, Fujita met Swedish shō player Mattias Hållsten. Although it was a brief encounter, the two musicians stayed in touch. During a visit to Japan, Hållsten stopped by the studio and played on three of the tracks, including the alluring album closer ‘Yodaka’, exceeding Fujita’s own expectations.
Another collaborator, American poet Moor Mother asked Fujita to contribute vibraphone to her upcoming album, and in return lent her powerful voice to the Migratory’s centrepiece, Our Mother’s Lights — “it carries a kind of African and Asian vibe, a perfect match for the energy of the piece,” he adds.
As with Bird Ambience, Fujita continues to be inspired by our feathered friends. The album’s title, Migratory, originates from an image that came to him of migratory birds, travelling somewhere between Africa, Southeast Asia and Japan, imagining them hearing the music from the land underneath, and how their point of view of the world from above blurs the boundaries of music and land.
Expanding on this, Fujita says: “these ideas and images were inspired by my experiences of living abroad and returning to my homeland, as well as by the artists featured on this album who also somehow travelled or lived in other countries across the boundaries, and being influenced by the music of other lands but at the same time somehow led to their roots."
Masayoshi’s parents too made a life abroad in Thailand for over 15 years. After returning to Japan, Fujita’s mother passed away in the beginning of 2023. So he invited his father to come for a visit, to spend time with him and his grandchildren. A lifelong musician in his own right, the two of them soon found themselves holed up in Kebi Bird Studio. Fujita senior had brought his saxophone, which he played on top of the then unfinished recordings, resulting in three breathtaking pieces. The slow jazz-tinged ‘Blue Rock Thrush’ stands out, with the saxophone and marimba blending harmoniously reaching new artistic heights.
Nature has always been a source of inspiration for Fujita, and on Migratory it takes centre stage. You can hear it on the album’s peaceful and considered field recordings, but most importantly, Masayoshi highlights – “nature is there as the image to be evoked by the listener from the music.” On the record’s sleeve notes, written by renowned novelist and travel writer Pico Iyer, we learn about the Japan that he hears as he sits down and listens to the music. It educates and encapsulates us, in the same way Fujita’s imaginary birds vividly depict the essence of musical migration.

Masami Akita’s work as Merzbow looms over all avant-garde, noise and heavy music like a dark cloud. Since 1979, the Tokyo-based sound artist’s fusion of industrial fervor and playfully Dadaist chaos across hundreds of releases has done more than pioneer harsh noise music — it has made him nearly synonymous with the genre. However, that famous reputation never quite conveys the actual thrill of sinking into a Merzbow album and absorbing its extreme contours, spiking peaks and layered valleys. It’s a feeling familiar to any fan, in a discography so deep and varied that no one ever explores it the same way. Merzbow’s new album Sedonis is an airy, ominous highlight and an essential release for both longtime listeners and those taking their tentative first steps into Akita’s boiling ocean of sound.
Sedonis caps one of the most exciting recent periods in Merzbow’s career, growing from the same set-up of computer, modular electronics and homemade instruments that produced the startlingly atmospheric Nine Studies of Ephemeral Resonance album series. It sparks to life on “Sedonis A” with propulsive drum machines and Akita’s prickling homemade guitar-string koto, played with a violin bow. The Penderecki-like strings melt into a nearly Hendrix haze at the start of “Sedonis B” building a crushing bridge to the centerpiece “Sedonis C.” The searing track brings to mind releases such as Dust of Dreams’ hazy percussion loops or the pulsing, jazz-influenced Door Open At 8AM, before igniting in a finale that achieves the same rippling funhouse terror as Aaron Dilloway’s Modern Jester. The three-part piece is paired with the 16-minute closer “Monolith 4”, which forms a spacious, burned expanse in contrast.
Akita explains that the title “Sedonis” didn’t have a particular meaning, but the word came to him in the aftermath of recording the album. “In terms of imagery, I was thinking of something similar to Barunga, the balloon monster from Ultra Q,” he explains, describing the classic ‘60s Ultraman kaiju. “A cloud-like form floating in the sky or outer space, with tendrils or tentacles — that kind of presence.” The music impressionistically conveys its inspiration at a kaiju-sized scale, while bringing to mind a modern day contemporary of Barunga— Jordan Peele’s terrifying, yet eerily beautiful creature from Nope. Similarly, Sedonis never stops unfolding into hypnotic new forms, while achieving a spectral, sinister atmosphere that feels utterly unique to Merzbow in 2025.


Bringing together two distinct yet complementary forces in electronic music, Zohar and Nymfo join for their first collaborative release on Dekmantel.
Zohar’s sound is defined by razor-sharp precision and pulsating percussive energy storm-like sonics that disorient and excite in equal measure. With a background shaped by years of commanding dancefloors, she has carved a diverse and eclectic path, where rattling low-end and rhythmic tension form the foundation. Known for her technical refinement and mixing wizardry, Zohar intuitively seeks unexpected connections, always pushing her listeners into new territory. Following several contributions to Dekmantel compilations, this marks her first full-length release on the label.
Nymfo has been an essential figure in drum & bass since the late ’90s. Starting out in Eindhoven’s rave and jungle scene, he quickly became known for his fierce DJ sets and later, his productions. His catalogue spans acclaimed labels such as Metalheadz, 1985 Music, Commercial Suicide, Hospital Records, Critical, Dispatch, Shogun Audio, and many more. With two albums and a steady output of singles and EPs, Nymfo has consistently balanced raw dancefloor energy with a deep, refined production ethos.
Their paths crossed countless times in the scene, yet it wasn’t until Dekmantel invited them for a special Dekmantel Connects performance an ambitious setup with eight CDJs and four mixers that they shared the decks for the first time. The synergy of that moment carried into the studio, where their collaboration took shape. This release now returns them to the Dekmantel family, presenting their joint vision: a dialogue between low-end weight, rhythmic intricacy, and forward-thinking club sonics.
"Silk is the fantastic third LP by Maxine Funke, a New Zealand musician whose first recordings were with the legendary $100 Band (Funke, Alastair Galbraith, and Mike Dooley!), whose music was drifting experimental dust of a very high order. Maxine's first two solo albums, Lace (2008) and Felt (2012) (originally released as CDR on Galbraith's Next Best Way and a lathe on Epic Sweep, respectively), were reissued by Time-Lag to great acclaim in 2016, securing her place in the upper echelons of contemporary folk inventors. With the release of Silk, Ms. Funke manages to create an album that merges both of these style threads. Many of the tracks are cast in an intimate mood congruent with artists like Sibylle Baier, Barbara Manning, Myriam Gendron, Joanne Robertson, and other women who have pulled sweetly dark sounds from pockets of deep emotion, abetted largely by acoustic guitar. On a few other tracks, electronic instrumentals hearken back to her work with transceivers in the $100 Band days. The balance between these posts is delicately intoxicating. A readymade classic from start to finish, Silk travels a brilliant series of spaceways with grace and assurance. We should all be so lucky."

Found Keys is the debut album by American artist Ruth Maine. Although Ruth has been playing and composing music for over two decades, this is the first time she decided to record some of her varied compositions and share them with the public. But in times when it is the norm to clamour for attention, she prefers to go the opposite way. Ruth likes to let her music speak for itself and stay in the shadows.
The 16 short piano pieces heard on this album, each about two to three minutes long, were recorded remotely and purely surrounded by nature. Once a composition was found and Ruth considered it mature, she only recorded it once, embracing the beauty of doing something for the first time with all its little imperfections. Found Keys sounds anything but imperfect though. These compositions feel timeless, intimate and comforting, as if they have been around for a long time, like an old friend. Gently played keys slowly evolve into minimal pieces through repetitive melodies. There’s stillness as much as there’s brightness, sadness as much as joy; welcome to a beautiful journey through Ruth’s world of wonder.
In many ways, Found Keys is a deeply personal record that takes Sonic Pieces back to its roots. And it leaves a feeling of nostalgia while reviving memories of the past.

2025 repress, gatefold sleeve, gold pantone print, incl. hot foil stamping. Edition of 500 ** After more than two decades, one of experimental noise music's most uncompromising statements returns to vinyl. Mego presents the long-awaited reissue of Kevin Drumm's Sheer Hellish Miasma, first released on CD in 2002 on the original Mego label. This 2LP edition marks the return of a landmark album that has remained a ferocious document of Drumm at his most inventive and unrelenting. The history of Sheer Hellish Miasma is one of resilience to the twists of underground trends that have come and gone since its initial release. Where lesser works have faded into obscurity or been absorbed by the zeitgeist, Drumm's vision has only grown more singular and essential with time. This is not music that seeks to comfort or accommodate - it is an artifact of eternal power that demands confrontation on its own uncompromising terms. Using guitar, tape manipulation, microphones, pedals, analog synthesizers, and subtle computer processing, Sheer Hellish Miasma constructs an overwhelming sonic architecture. This is an album that exists at the intersection of brutal physicality and meticulous composition - a careful orchestration of storming feedback, fractured textures, and unrelenting energy that reveals Drumm's mastery of extreme electronic sound. The album offers a singular vision positioned at the outermost edges of sound art, where conventional musical structures dissolve into pure sonic phenomenon. Each element - from the carefully manipulated guitar feedback to the processed analog textures - contributes to a cohesive statement that transcends the sum of its abrasive parts. For seasoned noise veterans, Sheer Hellish Miasma offers a bracing soundscape filled with exquisitely abrasive textures and hidden details that reward deep, repeated listening. In an increasingly homogenized world of abstract electronic noise, Drumm's work maintains a distinct voice that refuses easy categorization or imitation. For the uninitiated, Drumm's journey through the noisy underworld represents something more challenging - a confrontation with sound pushed to its absolute limits. This is music likely to inspire fear, or in the most optimistic case, a fearful admiration for the composer's uncompromising vision. Sheer Hellish Miasma stands as an abstract noise classic precisely because it refuses the comfortable compromises that allow underground music to be easily absorbed by mainstream culture. This 2LP reissue presents the work in its full, unmediated power - an artifact that has lost none of its capacity to challenge, disturb, and ultimately transform the listener's relationship to sound itself. In an era of endless digital reproduction, the return of Sheer Hellish Miasma to vinyl represents more than mere nostalgia. This is music that demands physical presence, that requires the listener to commit to its durational extremes, and that rewards those willing to submit to its particular form of sonic discipline.



Jan Jelinek and Copehagen-based composer Mads Emil Nielsen trade remixes on this one, with Jelinek stretching 'Framework 10' into a ghosted early electronic hallucination, and Nielsen matching Jelinek's 'Zwischen' collage with modular blips and drones.
Originally released in 2019 on the CRXSSINGS fundraiser compilation, these two tracks were too good to let languish in digital-only obscurity. Now pressed to 7" and packaged with Nielsen's graphic score, it's a great reminder how impressive this pair of reworks actually were. Jelinek's version of 'Framework 10' bumps Nielsen's two minute original up to seven minutes, fatting its austere modular belches with kinked sine moans, saturated brassy punctuations and sub-aquatic exotica FX. And Nielsen's take on Jelinek's brief Marcel Duchamp collage - if you remember, Jelinek stitched the silences between speech in interviews into short negative space extractions - adds drama to the original, supplementing the pregnant pauses with white noise bursts and modular squiggles.

Haino sings. Hasunuma plays. It’s a minimal framework, but what emerges is a boundary-blurring sonic exploration. Across the album, Haino’s voice threads through Hasunuma’s layered soundscapes built from analog synths, electric guitar, piano, field recordings, and more. Haino entered the studio with only lyrics in hand, improvising melodies in response to Hasunuma’s evolving arrangements. The result is a work of deep trust, intuition, and sonic tension.
Keiji Haino and Shuta Hasunuma’’s creative connection began in 2017 with an impromptu performance in Shibuya—Hasunuma on a Buchla modular synthesizer, Haino responding with the Japanese national anthem, “Kimigayo.” That moment sparked their unlikely collaboration.
In 2018 Haino appeared at the Hasunuma-organized event “MUSIC TODAY IN KYOTO” at Rohm Theater, alongside Nobukazu Takemura, Manami Kakudo, Elena Tutatchikova, Kukangendai among others. In September 2021 during the pandemic, the two performed "U TA" for the first time at WWW in Shibuya. They began planning the album soon afterwards.
For the recording of U TA, Haino entered the studio with only the lyrics in hand, with no knowledge of what sounds Hasunuma would produce. Responding to Hasunuma’s music in real time, Haino composed the melodies and layered in his voice on the spot. With additional sessions at Hasunuma’s private studio and Haino’s preferred studio, the album was completed.
Smerz continue to mark out sui generis wyrd-pop territory on their second proper full-length, this time for the on-fire Escho label, stripping away the club nostalgia and doubling down on oddball R&B harmonies and quirky DIY-cum-downtown NYC production tics - a sort of genius missing link between Astrid Sonne, Cibo Matto and Luscious Jackson.
Catharina Stoltenberg and Henriette Motzfeldt's earliest gear was a torch in a dark digital corridor, a prophetic look at a hazy pop future that blurred genre boundaries and trampled across the borders between the mainstream and the underground. Needless to say, they set the stage for a sound that's more or less orthodox in 2025 - we see Smerz's shadow on ML Buch's world-beating 'Suntub', or Erika De Casier's bedroom R&B groover 'Still', for example. And their contribution to the canon hasn't gone completely unnoticed; the duo co-produced K-pop girl group NewJeans' impressive 'Get Up' EP in 2023 alongside de Casier, and turned in an edit of Astrid Sonne's 'Say you love me' in 2024. If there's a discernible scene coalescing between Copenhagen, London and Oslo, Smerz are operating somewhere near the center.
So four years after threading supersaw-led trance-pop and rattly footwork-pilled kicks through a lattice of offhand skits and classical interludes on their impressive debut album 'Believer', Stoltenberg and Motzfeldt return to an art-pop landscape that's humming with energy. Fittingly, they reply by setting a new sonic benchmark, pruning their productions considerably and focusing on the bumpy, textural weirdness that often lurked in the distance on prior recordings. The best way to get a handle on this one is to scrub thru the duo's archive of NTS shows (they've been producing weekly bulletins for the best part of a decade), where you might hear Klein, Morton Feldman, Leila, Angelo Badalamenti, Young Thug or Kaskade alongside demos and cuts from like-minded peers such as Clarissa Connelly, Lolina and Peder Mannerfelt.
They're enthusiastic, discerning listeners who can cut away some of the cultural baggage to figure out links between vastly different sounds, and that's exactly the experience 'Big city life' provides. From the first few notes of the title track it's as if we've been dialed into NYC circa 1981, with rubbery microsampled half-riffs that project like they're being coughed out of a malfunctioning Fairlight CMI. Trading schoolyard rhymes back and forth, Smerz sing-rap nonchalantly over jerky MIDI piano and strangulated breaks, imagining a mid-point between day zero trip-hop and Craig Leon's enduringly influential 'Nommos'. And that intermixture of casual amusement and heads-y deep digging nourishes the entire record. There's the whipsmart Stereolab-in-dub vibe of 'But I do', 'Close' with its sad lounge and sensual Chicago lilt, and the lead single 'You got time and I got money', that's a raggy doll stitch-up of Air's 'Sexy Boy' and Verve's 'Bittersweet Symphony' covered by Neneh Cherry.
And just like on their debut album, it's Smerz's bijou, ostensibly throwaway moments that fully crystallize their narrative. They understand exactly what draws us back again and again to "classic" albums (and good mixes, actually), and pepper 'Big city life' with elegant, eccentric digressions, like the General MIDI player-piano loosie 'What', and 'Street Style', a stripped-back candlelit ballad that couches the bolshy TR-909-led 'Imagine This', a screwed-n-chopped Mantronix moment that accents their vast knowledge of '80s rap and electro. And if you're missing the old Smerz, they throw us a bone with the Autotune-d trance digression 'Dreams', leading us out of the album with a melancholy reminder that the flicker of the club is still there, somewhere, just distorted into a hypnotic, euphoric outline.
Respraying familiar bittersweet indie themes with contemporary DAW gloss, Danish duo Snuggle guide references to Cocteau Twins, The Sundays, Elliott Smith and Young Marble Giants thru modernist trip-pop structures that'll surely appeal to anyone into ML Buch, Erika de Casier, Smerz or that new James K record - another Escho smash basically.
Founded by Copenhagen underground mainstays Andrea Thuesen Johansen (of noise-rock trio Baby in Vain) and Vilhelm Tiburtz Strange (of smoove pop four-piece Liss), Snuggle is a fittingly modest Escho supergroup whose sound shouldn't be a huge surprise to devotees of the label. Baking themes that have been circling the RMC scene in the last few years, their debut album is almost sickeningly sweet - and hard to stop nibbling away at. It's a tray of detached, melancholy pop that's formed so flawlessly - rooted in a spread of sonic ingredients that we've never stopped going back to over the years - that it sits comfortably alongside contempo genre staples like 'Suntub'.
Theusen's voice falls somewhere between Alison Statton's and Harriet Wheeler's, cool, detached and achingly fragile, and is well matched by Strange's controlled but cannily penned miniatures. He sounds like Robin Guthrie covering 'Here's Where the Story Ends' at first on 'Dust', eventually offsetting the warbled, well-phased guitar chords with just-gritty-enough breaks that snap us in the direction of the trip-hop revival. Indie adorned with powdery boom-bap drums and samples wasn't a complete anomaly in the '90s - just poke thru the Grand Royal catalog and bands like Bran Van 3000 or Sukpatch, for example, who recently got a shot of adrenaline from Concentric Circles' reissue campaign. And the sound has finally come of age, an Ableton-era hallucination of music that's recognizable but not completely rinsed.
These elements are most prominent on the chugging, grungy opener 'Sun Tan' and the chirpy 'Driving Me Crazy', that's fleshed out with tasteful cello scrapes from Naja Soulie. But Snuggle lock into a deeper, more mysterious groove on 'Marigold' balancing out their dry, boxy drums with early Factory riffs before sliding towards Air's sensualized exotica in the final act, and Theusen's vocal melody is transfixingly twisty on 'Playthings', draped around splashy dubwise snares and a killer bassline from Strange. And although 'Sticks' sits way too close to the coffee table for our liking, 'Water in a Pond' sounds like Hope Sandoval singing Elliott Smith - unmissable, basically.
