NEW ARRIVALS

Twelve years in the making, a new record by Portland's idiosyncratic master of ultra modern folk music Dragging An Ox Through Water. Old school electronic oscillations and blips meet solid guitar playing and singing. The lyrics alone are worth the price of admission. Nothing obvious is ever said and every word gleans with layers of meaning. Dragging An Ox Through Water is Brian Mumfords' cult long running art music project. Beloved in Portland. Willfully underground. The real stuff. A modern masterpiece.

Born in the ashes of WWII, the only girl of seven children, they called her Pinky. She grew up in the windy plains of the Texas panhandle, singing in the church choir and dreaming of being on the stage one day. Just 18, she met the love of her life and soon married rodeo cowboy Cole Tex. Sharing a common thirst for adventure, they traveled the country roads together. He wrote the songs and Pinky sang them, performing in small roadhouses and honky-tonks all over the southwestern states. These are some of the few recordings that still exist.

Keith Hudson's Pick A Dub is a classic album by many standards; released in1974, the session features performances from reggae legends Augustus Pablo, Big Youth, and Carlton and Aston Barrett. The 1994 re-issue on the Blood & Fire label introduced a new generation to its 'austere sonic qualities' and genre defining techniques. Pick A Dub showcases the enduring strength and pivotal importance of the rhythm to the development of reggae and dub music. Keith Hudson's complete mastery of the genre and the unqualified praise that followed its release was fully justified.

“Time Code,” the 1983 album by German electronic duo YOU. Drawing from the Berlin School tradition and echoing the analog‑synth textures of Tangerine Dream and Kraftwerk, this is a hidden gem of early‑80s progressive electronic music.

“The 180‑gram high‑quality reissue of Black Sabbath’s 1970 second album Paranoid.

Electronic lullabies and folk songs from Ethiopia! A landmark recording from Ethiopia’s vibrant cassette era of the 1980s, Resonance of Time features pioneering composer Wesenyeleh Mebreku reimagining Ethiopian folk melodies through the humble circuitry of an early Casiotone keyboard. Historically, the works featured on Resonance of Time (የጊዜ ቃና Yegizie Kana) stand as quiet documents of Ethiopian musical memory. Many of the original songs included in this release emerged during important moments in Ethiopian history when music carried the collective emotion of the nation - love, loss, resistance, dignity, and hope. By arranging these pieces from Ethiopia’s musical heritage instrumentally, Wesenyeleh Mebreku aimed to preserve their essence while protecting them from being confined to a single era or performance style. In doing so, his preservation of Ethiopia’s musical heritage became a contribution to his country’s musical legacy itself, as Resonance of Time serves as an important musical milestone of this composer’s innovative recordings and musical developments in the prolific era of Ethiopia’s 1980s cassette tape culture. On Resonance of Time, Wesenyeleh made use of the first Casio electronic keyboard - the Casiotone CT-201 - to arrange and perform Ethiopian folk songs in his own unique style. Implementing the soulful, lo-fi character of the keyboard, Wesenyeleh’s interpretations of these works take on a life of their own. Charming analog tones interpret swirling sounds of organ and piano in kignit modality to the beat of a nostalgic rhythm machine while twinkling synthesizer sounds carry the melodies drifting out of time. The recordings reflect a watershed moment in Ethiopian musical history - when traditional melodies started being interpreted on electronic keyboards, and the advent of cassette tape recording allowed for music to be transmitted more accessibly than centuries-old oral traditions. During this time, Ethiopian musical modes were syncretized with new technology and budding musical experimentation, and Wesenyeleh’s interpretations on Resonance of Time are a landmark recording of this era, following in the tradition of reflecting upon and re-interpreting historical Ethiopian music for a new generation. Featured on the release are timeless Amharic folk songs and lullabies, Tigrinya love songs, Gurage and Oromifa popular songs, and even works closely associated with performers from Ethiopia’s 1970s popular music era such as “Tiz Alegne Yetintu” (ትዝ አለኝ የጥንቱ) which was famously performed by Tilahun Gessesse. Each piece, thoughtfully chosen by Wesenyeleh, is beautifully transformed into instrumental music of his own style - allowing these worlds of song to echo into the future while they are synthesized with the electronic innovations of the 1980s and Wesenyeleh’s own musical history. Wesenyeleh says this about his musical approach - ”Instrumental music, for me, is a space of reflection. Without words, the listener is invited to remember, imagine, and feel freely. In Resonance of Time, I hear my own musical philosophy: respect for Ethiopian kignit, careful dialogue with Western harmony, and a deep trust in melody as a storyteller.” Each piece performed on Resonance of Time speaks to a time when Ethiopian music was shaped by oral transmission through live performance and communal listening. In today’s fast-moving musical environment, revisiting these works is an act of cultural responsibility. These works remind us that melody once traveled slowly, settling deeply in the listener’s heart. The instrumental format allows these works to cross linguistic and generational boundaries, making them accessible to audiences who may not know the original lyrics but can still feel their spirit. Resonance of Time also reflects a broader historical dialogue: the meeting of tradition and adaptation. Ethiopian music has always evolved while holding onto its core identity. These arrangements affirm that evolution does not mean abandonment. Instead, it can be a form of safeguarding - ensuring that the musical wisdom of the past continues to resonate in the present and inspire the future. In this sense, the album is both personal and collective. It carries Wesenyeleh Mebreku’s own musical fingerprint, shaped by decades of practice, but it ultimately belongs to a wider cultural continuum. It is the artist’s contribution to keeping time audible so that memory, history, and sound may continue to speak to one another.

A descendant of the Hausa (a people from the Sahel) born in Riyadh in 1947, Ettab was a celebrated singer, actress and activist — and perhaps the only female artist of Saudi origin of her time to claim an international career.This album, produced in Lebanon in 1992 by brothers Mahmoud and Ahmed Moussa for the label Relax-In, is a perfect introduction to her work. Resolutely modern in its pop arrangements with a finesse worthy of Curtis Mayfield, it takes Eastern classical music to new horizons. Ettab's undeniably beautiful voice is characterized by its original accent, which she refused to hide despite her exile to Egypt in 1980.After 15 albums and a few film appearances, Ettab devoted her time to defending the women’s rights in the music world until her death in 2007 in Cairo. She is now a leading female icon in the Arab world, especially in her native Saudi Arabia. A masterpiece of Arabic music, essential to any fan of the genre, her work should be urgently (re)discovered.

Originally released in 2011 and ultimately the swan song of the band’s core lineup, In the Grace Of Your Love marked a reset for The Rapture and a welcome return to DFA, the label that helped them make their instantly seminal debut, Echoes.The momentum and success of those years led to a major label roller coaster ride that dumped them right back where they started, scars to show but now free to push beyond the boundaries of expectation.Guiding them there was the late, great Philippe Zdar, one-half of French dance duo Cassius and producer for the likes of Phoenix and the Beastie Boys. Zdar’s enthusiasm and technical prowess are audible within the record’s first 30 seconds: “Sail Away” is the Rapture gone widescreen and radiant, a five-minute long exhale with disco drums.There is, of course, plenty of fodder for the dance kids - “How Deep Is Your Love” still slams barroom dance floors in New York City, “Miss You” is a bit of irresistible minor-key mischief - but overall the feeling is one of slowing down, taking stock, searching for meaning and love in more right places than wrong.Ergo, its finale: “It Takes Time To Be a Man,” a charmingly honest, piano-plonked song about taking responsibility and helping others. It sounds like absolutely nothing else in the Rapture’s catalog and yet also perfectly ends it. Credits roll, time goes on, records still mean everything.

Six years on from their last full-length, Satoshi & Makoto resurface with Café Mirage, issued by 8mm Records in collaboration with Standart Magazine. The Japanese duo deepen their quietly assured sound, folding ambient electronics, subtle jazz inflections and restrained groove into a set that feels both intimate and expansive.Framed as an imaginary café, Café Mirage moves with unhurried purpose. Warm textures, hushed rhythms and carefully layered harmonies give the record a sense of flow — contemplative yet gently propulsive. The link with Standart Magazine extends the concept, drawing together music and coffee culture into a shared atmosphere of craft and ritual.Measured and meticulous, the production favours detail over display. It’s a patient, late-night listen that rewards close attention while remaining easy to drift within — a confident step forward from a duo working with clarity and control.

Sought after two-tracker, Ricardo Villalobos releasing under his moniker “Richard Wolfsdorf” in his early years, remastered, new cut

Written between tours with Tristeza, One Day I’ll Be On Time finds The Album Leaf exploring a spacious blend of ambient music and post-rock. Delicate guitar figures, piano motifs, soft synths, field recordings and steady percussion drift through the album, gradually building from hushed passages into more driving rhythms. Across its instrumental pieces, the record reflects on time and change, balancing fragile details with wide-open atmosphere. This 25th anniversary edition presents the album in remastered form, replicating the original release with new liner notes by Adam Gnade and previously unpublished photographs revisiting an early chapter in The Album Leaf’s catalogue.

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

Eternal Almost is a collaborative album by Japanese musician Tomo Katsurada and Estonian composer Misha Panfilov. Born from the simple joy of songwriting and creative exchange, Tomo and Misha had long admired each other’s music from afar. When the opportunity to collaborate finally arrived, it felt completely natural, and by the time the album was finished, it almost seemed as though the two had known each other always. United by a shared sense of humour and musical curiosity, Tomo and Misha poured a raw, honest energy into these songs — one shaped by their intuitive rapport. In an increasingly artificial world, Eternal Almost subtly celebrates the qualities that make music feel most alive. Amid the weight of our current times, the pair hope this album brings listeners a sense of lightness, joy, and of course—a gently surreal journey from beginning to end.

Jeb Loy Nichols is at it again with a brand new 7" that pairs two sides of his soulful storytelling. On the A-side, the exclusive cut “Do The Get Together” makes its debut – a slow-burning southern soul dancer that gently calls people closer, both on the dancefloor and beyond it. With warmth, patience, and a steady groove, Nichols invites connection without force, offering a quiet reminder that togetherness can still feel natural and unpretentious. Driven by Cold Diamond & Mink’s deep-pocket rhythm and understated analog textures, “Do The Get Together” unfolds with ease. The groove never rushes, allowing Jeb’s voice to guide the message with soft authority and lived-in wisdom. It’s a song that feels tailor-made for late-night spins, where movement and meaning find common ground. On the flip, “First Night Away From Home” brings listeners back to the opening chapter of Nichols’ latest album This House is Empty Without You. Warm, melodic, and intimate, the track captures that mix of vulnerability and quiet resolve that defines Jeb’s songwriting. Together, these two sides form a perfect 7" pairing, pressed for those who value soul that speaks gently but stays with you.

On Reflections Vol. 3: Water Poems, Félicia Atkinson and Christina Vantzou channel their friendship and atmospheric artistry into ceremonial focus. Spoken-word environments and orchestral imagination flow like tributaries into a unified stream, resulting in a collection of dreamlike songs and soundscapes anchored in sea, sky and stone. Through electro-acoustic instrumentation, voice, and environmental sound, Water Poems invites listeners into a subconscious space somewhere between everyday intimacy and the oceanic enigma from which all life unfolds.

Winston Hightower “100 Acre Wood” [klp315/prnl65] Winnie’s world hasn’t always been easy Some say he could have been famous but there were complications. He had a brush with success but life got in the way. “Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.” So it was up to Winston Hightower to grab it, hold it and make himself heard One man in love with the sound of American lofi. What is in the ashtray of Winston Hightower’s ‘Day in the Life’? 14 songs that give carefree camouflage to a wistful heart - it's radiant throughout. 33RPM

Khruangbin did not know if they were actually making an album. All they knew in the first frigid days of 2025, as they shivered in the Central Texas barn where they’ve recorded almost all of their music, was that the 10th anniversary of their debut, The Universe Smiles Upon You, was steadily approaching. Months earlier, they’d bandied about ways to mark the occasion, debating orchestral arrangements or compendiums of bonus materials and alternate takes. Thing was, back before Khruangbin helped establish a new modern idiom of semi-instrumental and gently psychedelic American music, there had been no bonus material, no unused songs. And how interesting would alternate takes or symphonic extravagance really be for a band whose aesthetic—essential vibes, infinite grooves, riffs that rippled across the horizon—seemed so direct and pure, anyway? What if, they had instead wondered, they went back to the barn where it all began and recut the record that had started it all, on the actual 10th anniversary of those sessions? They decided, at least, to try.

It did not take long for Laura Lee, Mark Speer, and DJ Johnson to know that the idea was indeed a good one, that in holding up a mirror shaped by the past 10 years to their formative set of songs they could feel and hear how they had changed as people and players. The result is The Universe Smiles Upon You ii, 10 entirely new renditions of the songs from Khruangbin’s oldest album, played and sequenced in a way that works for them now without being strictly allegiant to who they were then. Watchful eyes, for instance, will notice that “Bin Bin ii”, a bonus track back in 2015, has moved toward this album’s center. More importantly, attentive ears will hear how liberated Khruangbin sound from any expectations rendered by their own success, how this is once again the sound of three longtime friends deciding how this material might move in real time.

The barn is an essential piece of Khruangbin lore. In 2009, many years before Khruangbin’s early singles started to shape their course or even before they were really a band, they began to head to the barn, bought by Speer’s parents in the ’80s on a modest cattle farm midway between Houston and Austin. They’d been looking for a place to rehearse in Houston when Speer’s parents volunteered the spot and the small house next door—three bedrooms downstairs, dorm-style bunks above, a century-old stove in a small kitchen. The process was so consummately D.I.Y. that, when they convened there in January 2015 to make what would become The Universe Smiles Upon You, Speer and Lee rushed to remove a nest of bees by playing bass and smashing cymbals loudly before Johnson (famously not into bees, mind you) arrived. They made the record for $1,500.

This time around, Khruangbin decided to try a few functional updates. They finally ripped out the plywood dancefloor that had been installed for a wedding nearly two decades earlier but had since become something of a sanctuary for critters that would inevitably destroy any gear left behind. They rented a new floor, then bought silent new space heaters and boxes of hand warmers that they’d stuff into gloves during sessions. The first day was Central Texas paradise—T-shirts in January, the sun shining as they set up their instruments, ran cables, and even recorded the seven-minute version of “Two Fish and an Elephant” that appears here, the rhythm that Lee and Johnson built offering a welcoming group hug for Speer’s flickering lead. But then the cold set in, a cold so gripping that they stuffed bits of construction flotsam into every crack and crevice they could find inside the barn. They moved closer and closer as the four days progressed, as if trying to absorb one another’s radiant heat.

Perhaps, then, that’s why The Universe Smiles Upon You ii feels so warm, as if they were tending a fire simply by playing together. Early into “August Twelve ii,” Johnson watched an eastern meadowlark sing just outside the barn, its song picked up by the microphones. It wasn’t their favorite performance, but they knew it captured the magic of the time and place, the yellow beauty’s melody calling these six gorgeous minutes to order. They are likewise jubilant during this very extended take on “People Everywhere (Still Alive),” applying the lessons about pace, momentum, and dynamics they’ve learned during a decade on the road to start and sustain this dance party. It is an immaculate map of the moment.

Funnily enough, while on tour with this electric trio during the last several years, Speer became fascinated with early European instruments that could sound full without being loud—the viol de gamba, for instance, or the clavichord. He imported that enthusiasm into these sessions, not only often playing acoustic guitar alongside Lee’s hollow-body Höfner bass and Johnson’s brushed drums but also covering instruments in contact mics, so that they sounded close and real. You can hear that pursuit clearly on “White Gloves ii,” a song that has become such a Khruangbin staple they initially struggled with how to remake it here. When Johnson suggested it become “country disco,” though, the track suddenly unlocked. A rural-funk canter buttresses the bittersweet vocals and twilit guitars; the recording makes it feel as if you’re sitting in the center of the barn, head pressed between the bass amp and bass drum as Khruangbin drift away.

In many ways, The Universe Smiles Upon You ii represents the close of Khruangbin’s first chapter, the complete culmination of the music they made when they arrived at the barn in January 2015. During the last decade, they have reached an apotheosis of sorts, their love of Thai pop and heavy dub and American soul and Ethiopian haze perfectly crystallized in a string of splendid records and live shows that have hypnotized massive theaters and festival crowds alike. They’ve repeatedly sold out the United States’ most famous venues, from Red Rocks and Forest Hills to the Hollywood Bowl and Radio City, and they’ve crowned festivals from Glastonbury to Bonnaroo. Paul McCartney plucked them to reimagine one of his songs, while they’ve collaborated with Mali legend and band inspiration Vieux Farka Touré to honor his late father on 2022’s Ali. After more than a decade of relentless touring and recording, their expertly polyglot 2024 album, A LA SALA, helped earn a Grammy nomination for Best New Artist. Not bad for a band that recorded its debut in a barn of bees and mice for a grand or so.

So, then, what is next? The Universe Smiles Upon You ii provides a point of pause for Khruangbin, a chance to step back from a sound they now know so well and figure out where it may go from here. They talk about woodshedding, about spending a few hours every day with their instruments to see what new shapes they can make. Khruangbin’s splendid next run, then, begins where the first one did, too—in the barn, finding their way into the world through the songs of The Universe Smiles Upon You, second time even more absorbing than the first.

Big Crown Records is proud to present the sophomore full-length from Les Imprimés, Fading Forward. Spearheaded by self-taught multi-instrumentalist and producer Morten Martens, the album explores mortality, escapism, and a myriad of experiences associated with love.

Martens made a tremendous impression with his highly acclaimed 2023 debut Rêverie and has since cultivated a diehard fanbase whose demographics are as wide-ranging as the influences that shape his music. He mixes tones from ’60s and ’70s soul with arrangement nods to doo-wop records, takes drum energy from hip-hop, and covers the whole thing with vocal stylings drawn from ’90s and 2000s alternative. But it is Martens’ lyrics, emotion, and delivery that truly bring everything together and help him stand out from his peers. There’s an infectiousness and pop sensibility in the writing, executed with the utmost class and taste, giving Les Imprimés the rare quality of immediate attraction that only deepens with repeat listens.

Hailing from Kristiansand, Norway, Martens plays nearly every instrument on Fading Forward, produces and arranges the album, and of course sings. “It’s soul music, but I don’t exactly have the soul voice,” Morten explains humbly. “But I do it my own way, in a way that’s mine.”

Album opener “You & I” is Morten’s homage to his partner, who sticks it out “through the chaos and the blunders” with him. Punchy drums and cascading pianos make this one a proper two-stepper and an anthem for those lucky enough to find someone who understands them and helps them through the parts of life where they need it most. “Again & Again” slows the pace and deals with the heavier side of love and life, as Martens professes his resilience through the mishaps, heartbreak, and letdowns of love affairs gone wrong. “Untainted Love” brings the sweet side of new love center stage with a tune that plays on the title of the Gloria Jones classic. “Get Lost” leans into the metaphysical with an invitation to leave reality behind and spend time with Les Imprimés, where there’s room to dream. “Only Love” is built over a gritty drum break, with a chorus that is simple yet profound, and an arrangement that gives it the energy of a mantra. The album turns to the dancefloor on “With You,” an uptempo, uplifting tune about a fleeting encounter that leaves you pining for more. Martens longs for her, but joyfully—as if simply remembering that such a connection is possible is exactly what he needed. Martens is joined by guest vocalist Ama Li on “Miss the Days,” a slow-burning ballad that reckons back to simpler times when love felt easier. Fading Forward closes on a wholly somber note with “Paradise,” a tune that wishes freedom and peace to a friend who passed away.

In the small town of Kristiansand, Norway, there is a huge talent who spent much of his life laying low and playing in the background. Signing to New York’s Big Crown Records inspired Morten Martens to begin sharing his own music. The response to his debut Rêverie pushed him out of the studio and onto the stage, serving as inspiration to push his artistry to new heights—heights that are fully realized on Fading Forward.

An epoch is defined as an extended period of time typically characterized by a distinctive development or by a memorable series of events, and Scott Hansen, leader of the band Tycho, has named their new album Epoch with that in mind. The last installment in a trilogy, Epoch is the culmination of more than a decade’s work that has seen the band evolving and maturing through two sublime releases Dive (2011) and Awake (2014), and developing from featuring Hansen as a delicate solo performer into the iconic frontman of a powerful multi-layered live band performing on the world’s largest stages. “Dive was where the whole thing crystallized,” said Hansen. “I found that crossover space between what I was doing before, which was more IDM electronic stuff, and the rock music that reflected more of what I was listening to and not necessarily what I was making. Awake was a prototype of pushing it as far into the rock realm as I was comfortable with. Epoch is basically coming full circle. All the lessons of Dive and Awake were applied and then expanded upon. Epoch leverages the sonic aesthetic of Dive’s down-tempo vintage-style synthesizers and beautiful melodies while drawing on the kinetic energy of Awake’s progressive composition and organic instrumentation. “I felt like I explored a lot of open-ended unbridled, optimistic spaces with the other records. I don't know if it's a reflection of my life, but it seemed like that’s what just came out at the time.” For the new record, the themes felt a bit darker as he explored new musical territory. “My threshold for darkness is much lower. Things that seem dark to me seem happy and light to other people. I think it’s the darker sounds themselves. The timbres are a bit more aggressive.” Hansen initially attempted a more traditional recording process at Panoramic Studios in Stinson Beach, CA, but ultimately opted to do the majority of the recording in his home studio in Berkeley following a temporary relocation from his home in San Francisco. “I’ve been in the same San Francisco house the last 11 years. I made the last two records in the exact same room. I figured it was time for a change. There were a few other factors as well. I wanted to get some more space, be relaxed, and not be living in the middle of a crazy city. I wanted to have a more relaxed environment where noise or people didn’t bother me. Mostly just for the isolation.” Once complete, it was important to Hansen to release Epoch as a surprise album. “I've never been fond of handing in an album then waiting 4 months for it to be released,” he said. “I wanted to be more connected to the people consuming the music. There is a kind of visceral fulfillment you get from sharing something that you've just created with other people. That's a very satisfying feeling as an artist. “All art is in some way shaped by the current state of the world around the person creating it so there's a element of zeitgeist built into any album. We just finished mastering the album so it will be a month old when people hear it. I'm hoping people get a sense that this music is directly connected to the time they are experiencing it in.” Epoch was arranged alongside Zac Brown, a long time collaborator and partner in the Tycho project. Brown contributed bass and guitar parts to the songwriting process, while Rory O'Connor played drums. O’Connor was brought in during the Dive tour cycle. Hansen has known Brown since their Sacramento upbringing. “At the end of Dive is when we started to work together on a couple songs. I thought there should be more guitar. Zac played on a couple songs like on ‘Ascension.’ He played some bass and guitar on ‘Hours.’ I brought him on to play parts in the shows. We did Awake together. We took the same approach with this record.” Hansen sees Epoch as a multi-dimensional artistic vision at the confluence of his graphic design work via ISO50 and music with Tycho. The graphic presentation of the album artwork is as important as the music itself. The keystone is the central image of Epoch and the colour scheme red and black. This is a stark contrast to the almost rainbow palette of Awake.

Emerging from Boston’s fertile 1970s underground, La Peste were the city’s first true punk band — bridging the gap between its proto-punk roots and the hardcore and college rock scenes that followed. I Don’t Know Right From Wrong finally tells their story in full, gathering long-lost recordings alongside the group’s only official release, the Better Off Dead 7”. This set includes material from multiple sessions: their 1978 recordings produced by The Cars’ Ric Ocasek, an additional 1978 session at Electro Acoustic Studios, and rough-edged 4-track loft tapes captured by fellow Boston punks Billy Daffodil and Dave Cola in 1977. Every track bursts with the intensity that once electrified New England clubs — huge riffs, driving rhythms, and Peter Dayton’s howling vocals at the front of the storm. As writer Marc Masters notes, these songs “come flying out of the speakers, fun and intense and so full of barely-contained energy that you’ll feel like you just injected caffeine.” More than four decades on, I Don’t Know Right From Wrong stands as a thrilling testament to La Peste’s place at the dawn of American punk.

What Burns Never Returns is the third album by American math rock band Don Caballero. What Burns Never Returns was released on Touch and Go Records in 1998 and was a reunion of sorts for the band—it was their first album after a two-year hiatus and marked the return of the original line-up. The album is notable for guitarist Ian Williams' first significant experimentation with pedals and other electronic effects. This style would be prevalent in both Williams' and the band's subsequent work. It is the final studio album to feature guitarist Mike Banfield and bassist Pat Morris, both of whom were in the original line-up of Don Caballero.

Backwoodz Studioz is excited to announce the release of Crayola Circles, a collaboration between rapper Fatboi Sharif and producer Child Actor. While both artists have long standing connections to Backwoodz, this album marks their first collaboration of any kind and breaks new artistic ground for all parties. Sharif’s previous album, Decay, released on Backwoodz in 2023, was a haunting experimental rap masterpiece, an acid trip in a mental hospital. On Crayola Circles Sharif trades menacing psychedelia for a simmering stew of blacklight expressionism, his verses slipping effortlessly through the swells and tides of Child Actor’s masterful production. No matter how uneasy the waves grow, Sharif is at ease, a truth teller whispering anti-riddles in your ear.This album feels like a new chamber for Child Actor, as well. The producer has been on an impressive run since dropping CINE- a collaboration with rapper Cavalier- on Backwoodz in late 2024. Child Actor has shown up in the liner notes of everyone from Navy Blue (The Sword & The Soaring) to Earl Sweatshirt (Live, Laugh, Love) to ELUCID (Revelator) to Open Mike Eagle (Neighborhood Gods Unlimited), to Ghais Guevara (A Quest to Self-Mythologize), amongst others. On Crayola Circles Child Actor’s production is dynamic, shifting and sliding into new phases and movements in an instant. The beats are full and knotty, leaning into jazz and folk, while remaining tethered to the tender minimalism that is his signature. It’s a difficult balance for any producer, and here it is executed perfectly, placing us in a world of wood and brass, cowhide and undersea piano. On any other record, this soundscape would steal the show — and it very nearly does — but Sharif’s command never wavers, ever in control; a lucid dreamer in an induced coma.There are no guests, no skits, and no interludes. There might not even be songs, instead Crayola Circles seems akin to a great river; singular, traversing forest and jungle, mountain and valley, running from mouth to endless sea.

Punch formed in 1969 on Long Island, dealing in ferocious, no-frills hard rock. Fronted by Dave Stein with Ray Kusnier (guitar), Tony Giustra (bass) and Pete Tudda (drums), they pushed a loud, stripped-back sound built on wailing guitar lines and snarling vocals. Across a brief three-year run, they shared stages with Illinois Speed Press and Elephant’s Memory, and became fixtures on the New York club circuit, playing The Village Gate, Café Wha? and Ungano’s. Montreal proved especially receptive, where their high-volume sets landed hardest. Using oversized speaker horns to maximise impact, the band generated a wall of sound from just three instruments, favouring power over polish. Though they split in 1972, Punch’s raw, unvarnished approach captures a moment before hard rock’s smoother turn, and still lands with force.

It may be tempting to reduce Convocations into a longform ambient anomaly within Sufjan Stevens’ vast catalogue. It is, however, neither an anomaly nor entirely ambient. This is not a side project. From his numerous dance scores for New York City Ballet to instrumental albums such as Enjoy Your Rabbit, Aporia, and The BQE, Stevens spends at least half his working life making largely instrumental music, as he has for decades. And though the first ten pieces, dubbed “Meditations,” unfurl as gorgeous states of reflective new-age grace, this is by no means an ambient enterprise. Stevens invokes the lessons of Morton Subotnick, Maryanne Amacher, Christian Fennesz, Brian Eno, and Wolfgang Voigt here. As musically erudite as it is emotionally experienced, Convocations can be dissonant, vertiginous, rhythmic, repetitive, urgent, or calm—that is, all the things we undergo when we inevitably live through loss, isolation, and anxiety. Indeed, Convocations moves like a two-and-a-half-hour requiem mass for our present times of difficulty, its 49 tracks allowing for all these feelings to be felt. The album is divided into five sonic cycles, each replicating a different stage of mourning. Convocations occasionally soothes and sometimes hurts; when it’s done, you’re left with a renewed sense of wonder for being here at all. In fact, Stevens made Convocations in response to (and as an homage to) the life and death of his biological father, who died in September last year, two days following the release of The Ascension. It is, then, ultimately an album about loss, and an album that reflects a year in which we have all lost so much. One could easily compare this project to Stevens’ album Carrie & Lowell, which he wrote following his mother’s death. But this is something entirely different. A new time, a new season, a new life lost, a new reckoning, a new kind of isolation, grief, despair, frustration, confusion, and the search for happiness and hope for the future. This is not a personal record, but a universal one. Convocations is built on a shared experience that seeks to be honest about how complicated grief can be in these difficult times—the pain, the anxiety, the unknown, the absolute joy of memory. This is also an album made in lockdown, when we were all cloistered in whatever space we had. So long as the science and statistics hold, Convocations arrives just as we begin to emerge from a year whose losses we will calculate for a lifetime. It is, then, right on time, as we begin to process our grief and try to carry on with it. —Grayson Haver Currin