NEW ARRIVALS

Hi-energy electronic dance music from Northern Ghana, created by farmers turned musicians working out of DIY rural studios. Relentless percussion, trance loops, heavy autotune and slinky VST synths. Sourced from locally-released VCDs circulating the markets of Dagbon and entirely unavailable outside the region until now. Studio Simpa collects tracks from the past decade of the neo-traditional Dagomba dance genre, modernized traditional percussion dance - produced by Mohamed “Ebony” Fuseini, recording drums on his phone and recreating the sound of traditional music via FL Studio. Collaborating with “Gawani”, flashy singers from the surrounding villages and local VCD producers, Ebony created hyper-electronic versions of simpa for the local video market, complete with suggestive videos of women shaking their hips - light cultural transgression in the predominantly Muslim Dagomba North. The compilation showcases the top artists of the scene - Dickson Gawani, Bala Zaaku, Yaa Naara and others - across a range of style and subject, from political commentary to warrior clan rhythms. Includes extensive liner notes by Morgan Greenstreet with artist interviews, cultural history, and song translations.

Their first project as a duo, 'Midmeste' is Aussie composer-performers and long time collaborators Judith Hamann and James Rushford's latest slow-mo meditation on musical history, psychoacoustic phenomena and minimalism, performed on cello and various pipe organs. Hamann and Rushford have been working together for years, most visibly alongside Sam Dunscombe as Golden Fur, a chamber ensemble the friends established back in 2008. Each artist has moved decisively in the time since: Berlin-based Hamann outdid herself on last year's intimate and deeply personal 'Aunes', while Rushford brought his various experiments to a focal point on 'Turzets', balancing his tongue-in-cheek electroacoustic experiments with bold medieval deconstructions. Working as a duo, the pair isolate the similarities in their respective musical signatures; the title is a Middle English word meaning "the middlemost point" and signals the album's creation, where they searched out creative overlaps: xenharmonic tunings, organology, psychoacoustics and unintentional sounds, just for starters. And knowing each other so well is also a boon. Where so much minimal avant-garde gear can sound stuffy to the point of being exclusionary, 'Midmeste' sounds inviting even at its most uncompromising. They use English early music composer John Dunstaple's 'O rosa bella' to anchor their experiments, returning to its core themes every time the album starts to veer too far off course. And there's a refreshing calmness to this technique; in the beginning, Hamann's piercing harmonics provide the edge, while Rushford's rounded organ chords welcome in a more familiar structure that Hamann respects with elegant cello tones. Interestingly, the duo were given the opportunity to record the world's oldest playable organ, a 15th century instrument at Basilica St Valere in Switzerland. Since they were both on residency at La Becque in Lake Geneva, it made perfect sense to document the organ's unique character and add it to their composition - contextually, it's right on point. Mid-way through the first side, we can hear its creaking, crackling wooden frame and whistling resonances, the puffing bellows and the sound of hands and feet on the instrument. It's these impeccably captured peripheral sounds that give us a sense of place, bolstering the duo's engagement with history with a tangible historical object that still tells us its age. Tones warble, wobble and boom through the centuries-old pipes and Hamann follows the course with her patient, literate responses that add romance, mystery and humanity to what, on its own, might be dry. So we end up with forty minutes of some of the most unashamedly beautiful music either artist has put their name to yet - 'Midmeste' is a duet that whisks you through time, physical space and tonality itself. Remarkable stuff.

A charming set of double transformations on this 7 inch. “Kajyadhi Fu Bushi” is a traditional Ryukyu minyo (Okinawa folk song), a joyous celebratory classic which is usually sung at weddings, with lyrics describing how “beautiful buds unfold”, using the distinctive Ryukyu/Okinawan pentatonic scale. Typically performed by a small ensemble of a singer accompanied by sanshin, the Okinawan precursor to the shamisen, the A-side is has been transformed by jazz musician and conductor Jun Arasaki and his group Nine Sheep, with five sanshin, four winds, piano, guitar, bass, percussion and drums. Played only once, unrehearsed but perfect in execution, for a 1977 TV broadcast, this release has been taken from the only recording in existence. The B-side is yet another transformation, a remix by the Portland “fourth world” duo Visible Cloaks.

"Never before heard tunes from the heart of Manchester circa 1989. The lost demos of the band that was Joanna, recorded at iconic Strawberry and Pentagon Studios were discovered in a Manchester apartment loft after 35 years on the shelf. For fans of The Stone Roses, Happy Mondays and Charlatans. With the release of Hello Flower, Joanna is no longer “the most popular band without a record out,” as NME called them in 1990, but their singular spirit is now available for anyone who wants a taste." It’s 1989. The Stone Roses are dominating the Indie scene and music press. Happy Mondays are laying the foundations of what would come to be known as the Madchester era with chaotic live performances. All eyes are on the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution. Along the East Lancs Road, throughout industrial heartlands between Manchester and Liverpool, punctuated by woollyback accents, four young musicians meet and form the next contender for the scene’s attention, Joanna. Neil Holliday (vocals) and Terry Lloyd (bass), work colleagues from Runcorn and Widnes, join forces with Leigh Music College students Tyrone Holt (guitar) and Carl Alty (drums). They hail from thoroughly working-class backgrounds, raised by hard working dads and harder working mothers. Rejected by other local bands because of their perceived youthful naïveté, the four lads create a world of their own inside Pentagon Studios in Widnes. This world includes a stolen smoke machine and strobe lights, a wooden shack to prevent feedback on the vocals, and the occasional friend who would dance around wildly. “I think the first tune we rehearsed was called (I Wanna) Marry Joanna,” says Holliday, “I’d never sang into a mic before and had no clue about levels, amps or speakers and started sweating after a couple of failed attempts to vocalise the words I had on a scrap of paper about smoking weed.” Each track on Hello Flower came together in the Pentagon rehearsal room, a fusion of hard-edged indie rock with bass funk rhythms and crunching guitar riffs spiraling into infinity. With a clear sixties influence, Joanna was impossible to ignore and irresistibly danceable. Listening back today, their music evokes fantasies of Hacienda acid trip jubilees, where the hook is secondary to the groove and attitude. Organic and jammy, their demos are infused with a kinetic energy, full of the defining youthful experience of figuring it out. Their momentum grew quickly. They were interviewed on the cult Kiss FM by future Best Selling author and filmmaker Jon Ronson, performed at the 1500 capacity Ritz in Manchester, International 1 and Liverpool Polytechnic. The band secured coveted support slots for established acts of the time including Shack, Dr. Phibes and the House of Wax Equations, Rig, and Asia Fields. After recording several demos, Joanna had the opportunity to perform in London. It seemed like a given. The A&R people would show up, the band would sign a contract backstage, and their local-legend status would evolve into international superstardom. They were already mentioning an upcoming record deal in interviews, with a bravado that inspired one journalist to describe Joanna as epitomising “the simple beauty of youth.” Bands like World of Twist, Charlatans, Rig and Paris Angels had all followed a similar route towards recognition and secured record deals. A few hours before their fateful London show after the band had sound-checked, singer Neil bumped into a girl he knew from school. She had started dating a guy with a good job and settled into London life and escaped beyond their small-town limitations. She’d made it out. Neil puffed out his chest and let her know about Joanna’s big show and imminent success. She laughed. Neil returned to the venue in a black mood, leading to a domino-like fall of morale. They were never offered a record deal. As soon as doubt was seeded about the individual talent of any one member, and strategy became more important than expression, Joanna started to lose its magic. Wounded, they limped along for another year, never recovering their initial verve. This story doesn’t have the happy ending of instant success, but it does preserve something much more ephemeral and unique. Joanna constantly brushed shoulders with fame as manager and friend Martin Royle pulled the strings with a quiet determination in the background. A major player in the Liverpool scene, Dave Pichilingi, offered to manage the band. The Boardwalk, which later became the rehearsal space for Oasis, asked Joanna to headline their re-opening after a major refurb, selling the venue out. Was a certain young roadie called Noel Gallagher there to witness the evening while he was putting his own band together? Definitely. Hand-written letters on headed stationery, recently found in the attic of the Isle of Man home of Royle, show labels like Rough Trade, Factory Records and Polydor courted and encouraged the band to keep playing and recording. Thirty-five years later, these long-forgotten ¼-inch reel tapes from Pentagon Studios were discovered in the loft of a mutual friend, their manager having handed them off to him 24 years earlier. These musical time capsules contained tracks the band members themselves hadn't heard in over three decades, offering a poignant reconnection with their creative past and tantalising glimpses of what might have been. “We realised we were actually as good as we remembered,” says Alty. The memories between the band members are blurred and contradictory but the tapes hold everything together, they are real, definite and irrefutable. With the release of Hello Flower, Joanna is no longer “the most popular band without a record out,” as NME called them in 1990, but their singular spirit is now available for anyone who wants a taste. The simple beauty of youth can only be experienced when you are invincible, fulfilling your natural destiny, buoyed by complete optimism… This record captures innocence untainted by failure. Beyond analysis, beyond critique, just lost in the groove.

Continuing its faithful documentation of the early years of Monolake, Field Records proudly present the first-ever vinyl pressing of seminal 1999 album Interstate. In a kaleidoscopic lattice of micro-rhythms and exquisitely dynamic textural work, Robert Henke and Gerhard Behles fully collaborated for the final time on this record — and created an electronica landmark in the process.

Monolake's evolution from their earlier dub-techno-tinted works saw their exploration of Max/MSP go further out. The duo yielded greater complexity in the behaviour of their sound palette to achieve an organismic quality that remains an enduring influence on so many strands of experimental electronic music today. Interstate is a vivid record that builds up eight different ecosystems of sound and subtly threads elegant grooves through their root structures.

There's a house-like undulation to the low-end driving 'Tangent-I' and 'Tangent-II', but the infinitesimally detailed layers of sound on top swoon from techno synth shimmers to trickling waters, snaking delay trails and pin prick percussion. You can hear the unmistakable, snappy rhythmic thrust of drum & bass driving 'Ginza', but here it's used as an engine for the crispest array of designer percussion and dub-soaked synth chirrups. Across every track, Henke and Behles demonstrate a potent combination, both groovily instinctive and eternally fascinating to try and pick apart.

After Interstate, Behles departed to focus entirely on the development of Ableton Live and Henke steered Monolake towards a leaner — but no less pioneering — sound. Every Monolake record has its own unique context and sound, and the circumstances of Interstate could never be repeated. Capturing the leaps in progress that were being made in digital music production at the end of the millennium, it's an information-rich document of a moment in time that still sounds wildly futuristic 27 years later.

Field Records proudly presents the first complete vinyl edition of Monolake’s seminal excursion into experimental dub techno, Hongkong. Originally released on the now-classic Chain Reaction label in 1997, this collection of early singles by Robert Henke and Gerhard Behles has gone on to become a vital listening experience in its own right - a genre classic alongside the other groundbreaking works from the likes of Porter Ricks and Vladislav Delay. The tracks which make up Hongkong were made while Henke and Behles studied computer science and immersed themselves in Berlin’s techno scene. Their early forays into computer-based music production were enabled by the use of the Max/MSP programming environment, forming a backdrop to the landmark work they would undertake in developing the Ableton Live DAW. Henke and Behles travelled to Hong Kong in 1996 to attend the annual International Computer Music Conference, and while there recorded extensive field recordings. These recordings became the glue that pieced together their collaborative tracks into a fluid listening experience for a CD-compilation at Chain Reaction’s request. While absolutely rooted in the embryonic sound of European dub techno, Monolake’s early work possesses a back room, headphone-ready demeanour which lends itself to the album listening experience. In the cascade of rhythms created by precision engineered delays and subliminal, expansive spatial world building occurring throughout Hongkong, the stage is set for a full and thorough immersion. Before the Monolake sound progressed into a more pointillist form of computer music as Henke’s solo project, Hongkong presented a gritty, grainy sonic still tied in some way to the traditional methods of techno production, even as the artists’ ideas were sending the sequencing and arranging in exciting new directions. Remastered and presented for the first time as a complete double 12” package, this is the definitive edition of an essential work in the evolution of experimental techno. As Henke himself explains, “twenty-five years later, this record still holds immense value to me in many ways.”

Last heard on Black Truffle as one quarter of the joyously anarchic Bergisch-Brandenburgisches Quartett, Hans Reichel (1949-2011) is one of the great figures of experimental guitar music. Though perhaps lesser known than peers like Derek Bailey, Fred Frith and Keith Rowe, Reichel’s rethinking of the instrument was in some ways the most radical of all. Early on, he dispensed with existing guitars to build a series of his own that explored the use of additional strings and fretboards, moveable pickups, extra bridges, special capos, and other innovations documented in the extensive booklet accompanying this release.

What strikes the listener right from the opening selection on Dalbergia Retusa—‘Return of the Knödler show’, from 1987’s The Dawn of Dachsman—is the extraordinary beauty of Reichel’s music, at once alien in the shimmering sonorities and unconventional pitch relationships made possible by his invented instruments, and deeply lyrical, even romantic in its harmonic content. Growing up in West Germany in the 1960s, Reichel’s formative influences were mainly British and American rock bands, a background that shines through in many of the pieces included here: ‘An old friend passes by’ is haunted by the ghost of Hendrix’s rhythm guitar, and the wild closer ‘Heimkehr der Holzböcke’, taken from a rare 1975 7” and the only piece to use overdubbing, layers errant hammer-on and slide tones over a Canned Heat boogie chug.

Reichel was an important source for the development of Oren Ambarchi’s own extended approach to the electric guitar. Appropriately enough, his selection opens with the very first piece by Reichel he ever heard, on a flexidisc included with a 1989 issue of Guitar Player magazine. Though Reichel collaborated with others extensively in many settings and also performed on violin and his other major contribution to instrument invention, the daxophone, his music for solo guitar remains at the core of his oeuvre.

Focusing exclusively on solo pieces recorded between 1973 and 1988, the 23 pieces on Dalbergia Retusa showcase the range and consistency of Reichel’s work, allowing the listener to see how his performances developed hand-in-hand with his instrumental inventions. On a piece from his very first LP, played on an 11-string instrument (partly strung with piano strings and using a schnapps glass a slide), we hear his intensive exploration of fret-hammering to create zither-like, chiming tone, which Reichel would hone further in later years with a double fretboard guitar specifically designed to be hammered rather than fretted and picked. On a piece from 1979’s Death of the Rare Bird Ymir, Reichel uses two steel-string acoustic guitars at once, with beautiful results: ‘some even say too beautiful’, he jokes in the interview included here. Many of the pieces from the 1980s make use of varieties of the ‘pick behind the bridge guitar’, instruments of uncanny harmonic richness primarily designed to be played on the ‘wrong’ side of the bridge. At times the unexpected behaviour of attacks, resonance, and decay can almost seem electronic, conjuring up the technology-assisted work of Henry Kaiser or even Fennesz, but realised solely through Reichel’s unorthodox techniques on his invented instruments.

Dewa Alit, master of radical Balinese gamelan, returns to Black Truffle with Baur Bentur."Genetic (2020) introduced international listeners to the magical sound-world of Alit’s Gamelan Salukat, who perform on instruments tuned to a unique scale derived from modified versions of two traditional Balinese scales. The two pieces heard on Chasing the Phantom (2022) further demonstrated his radical fusion of tradition and experimentation, with passages where unorthodox techniques make the acoustic ensemble resemble glitching electronics. Baur Bentur now highlights another aspect of Alit’s work, presenting pieces composed in 2024 and 2025 where Gamelan Salukat performs alongside virtuoso pianist Sri Hanuraga.Alit’s music is grounded in deep reflection on the tradition of Balinese gamelan and its place in the contemporary world. His title, ‘Baur Bentur’, which translates as ‘mixing and smashing’, points to his embrace of the intercultural mixture of Eastern and Western elements in the search for innovation. Against the calcification of Balinese music into tourist entertainment, Alit poses his searching, experimental work, which celebrates the communal values and performance practices of traditional gamelan while pushing into startling new directions.‘Sukat Tacara’ is a study in layered tempos, meters, and polyrhythms, a constantly shifting dialogue between piano and the instruments of Gamelan Salukat. It begins close to a traditional concerto, pairing a brisk sequence of melodic variations from the piano with a spare but propulsive accompaniment of drums and hanging metallophone tones, punctuated by low gong strikes. The piano builds in volume and density across a rapid succession of fragments, at points recalling George Antheil’s ticking wind-up machinery, though Hanuraga’s jazz background shines through in the fluidity with which he navigates the complexities of the score, where chromatic movement co-exists with bluesy phrases. An abrupt change in the piano to patterns of dense clusters introduces a new episode, during which the metallic instruments of the gamelan enter the foreground. The piece dazzles with its inventive rhythms and dynamics, building to a stunning passage featuring the signature heavy muting technique of the Gamelan Salukat metallophones in kinetic patterns that would be at home on a Príncipe release.The title piece begins at high intensity and rarely lets up, working through bracing unison ensemble melodies and punctuation points where piano and gamelan together seem to become a single, thudding drum. For much of the piece the piano is tightly integrated into the ensemble, the harmonic extensions of the melodic line subsumed into a moving cloud of complex overtones generated by the gamelan instruments. Wildly kinetic on the rhythmic level, the piece swarms with microscopic movements of beating patterns generated by the ‘blend and crush’ of three simultaneous tuning systems: the equal temperament of the piano and the saih cenik (small scale) and saih gede (big scale) used by the gamelan instruments. Accompanied by the composer’s thoughtful liner notes and images of the musicians, Baur Bentur is a stunning next step in Alit’s radical combination of tradition and innovation."

the debut solo album by henrik raabe, guitarist of the german trio wareika, who rose to prominence in the 2000s with their minimal deep house sound. departing from the cool, jazzy deep house he was known for, raabe delivers a uniquely crafted downtempo album that feels like a seamless blend of jazz, afro, dub, new age, and postmodern influences. it evokes the spirit of an imagined encounter between the durutti column and dennis bovell, with virginia astley joining in—reminiscent of the uk sound of the 1980s—yet rendered more minimal and refined, in a distinctly german way. with each listen, the album draws you deeper in. it is poised to become a defining release for mule musiq in 2026

Appearing for the first time on vinyl is the complete performance of "THE NILE" from the Saturn LP "When Sun Comes Out", recorded at The Choreographers Workshop in New York in November 1962. THE NILE parts 1 and 2 creates a dense atmosphere of rolling percussion, lugubrious bass and clinking piano ostinatos beneath the evocative flute of Marshall Allen. This recording, especially when heard in its full form, invokes a deep sense of an unknown but familiar place and time, merging past-present-future through the spacious over/lapping drummings of Clifford Jarvis, John Gilmore, Marshall Allen, Tommy Hunter and RA. Both sides of the single sound particularly good when layered on top of each other, a confluence of Afro-Futurist myth science and primordial waters. Beautifully mastered for 7" by Adam Gonsalves and Telegraph Audio, and expertly pressed by Smashed Plastic in Chicago. Packed in hand-assembled silk-screened metallic gold and black ink jackets printed by Seizure Palace, with 4 different cover variations. Includes picture sleeve and ephemera.

The home-recorded album everything pointed to - now on vinyl and CD for the first time. After several delays, we finally received the long-awaited production date from the pressing plant - and are happy to share this long-overdue announcement. Following the 2022 reissue of Scott Seskind’s 1985 debut, there was never a question - we wanted to go further. Ebalunga!!! exists to restore forgotten gems, and Scott’s music has been warming our hearts for years. So, to our own joy - and in response to all your emails, questions (and demands!) we’re thrilled to announce that his second album Chance (1991) will be released for the first time on vinyl and CD in September 2025. Thank you for keeping us on our toes: you helped make this real. A rare cassette that should have become a classic: Originally released only as a self-distributed cassette, Chance never got the attention it deserved but over the decades, it became a cult favorite among collectors and lo-fi folk devotees. Recorded in the early ’90s, the album feels like a quiet diary stitched together from fragments of late evenings, memory, hope, and doubt. A home recording - just the way we love it: “I recorded the songs on the same cassette recorder as my first album… I mistakenly put it out on cassette only. It wasn’t more than 1,000 copies. I only have one left.” - Scott Seskind (Psychedelic Baby!, 2023) Chance was recorded on the same 4-track Portastudio cassette machine Scott used for his debut. These are songs born between duties and silence, family life. There are no frills here: just voice, guitar, subtle strokes of cello, female backing vocals, mandolin, and percussion. Total intimacy. Total warmth. Songs of hope, grief, and memory: The lyrics explore friendship, loss, longing, and love with no pretension and no mask. Chance feels like a personal conversation, not a performance. And among its tracklist is perhaps Scott’s most widely known song: “I Remember”, which in recent years has reached a new generation of listeners after being featured on the acclaimed compilation "Skygirl"(Efficient Space) a release that introduced countless people to its fragile beauty. Bonus track and closing chapter: This edition also includes, for the first time, the bonus track “Last Song” a home recording made “many years ago” in the Colorado foothills. A bright and serene farewell, it brings the album to a gentle, natural close like the final page of an abandoned diary.

Ebalunga!!! is thrilled to announce the first official reissue of the self-released, self-produced, and self-titled 1985 LP Scott Seskind. The album is a lo-fi singer-songwriter jewel. Don't miss it. "Authentic and personal, at times it reminds this writer of luminaries such as Jackson C. Frank, PF Sloan, Skip Spence, and Phil Orchs while never feeling derivative. The songs are melodic and haunting, fueled by existential woes, political angst, and good ol' fashioned love. Scott's rich voice has an unpretentious gravitas, his simple-yet-effective guitar playing ranging from delicate fingerpicking to angry bashing. Created at home on a Tascam 4-Track Portastudio, the recording features few frills and is all the better for it. Unlike most mid-80s records it sounds like it could have come from any time since the late '60s onwards. As a testament to its greatness, and despite the late recording date, it even gets a nod on Patrick Lundborg's "Acid Archives" compilation website, Lysergiawhere it's described thus: "Late phase downer-loner folk and singer-songwriter trip, mostly acoustic, some tracks with a small band." - Andrew Ure for Ugly Things. Read a long story about the album in the upcoming Shindig! issue: www.silverbackpublishing.rocks/product/shindig-136-pre-order-on-sale-2nd-february-2023/ The reissue is available on vinyl with a lyric insert. Mastering(as always) by Jessica Thompson. Feedbacks and reviews: "Almost totally unheralded singer-songwriter Scott Seskind gets the reissue treatment, and I couldn't be happier. About a year ago I pulled Seskind's sole vinyl release out of the used bin of a Boulder record store, and with its almost Wallace Berman-esque cover art, could immediately suspect it was something special. The first listen didn't dispel that notion one bit; here was an impressively captivating and moving collection of four-tracked bedroom folk of the highest order, with an out-of-time vibe that didn't really snyc with its 1984 recording date. Definitely on the loner-ish end of the folk spectrum, with some aspects of the album harkening back to Skip Spence's iconic Oar, while other moments revealed the urgency of the '80s lo-fi revolution. But most importantly, the songs were just really, really great and managed to remain haunting long past their leaving. Here, I thought, is an album that needs to be heard by more people, NOW. I asked around amongst some record collecting friends and discovered it was pretty highly rated by a small circle of people in the know, and that it had even managed to garner a mention in the Acid Archives despite its late recording date, and most excitingly that there was talk that the digital reissue label Yoga had managed to track Seskind down and secure the rights to his LP. (...) So here we have it, the best songs from Seskind's eponymous LP. (...) I really hope this release continues to garner the listeners that it deserves." - Michael Klausman "The one that struck us the most this year was the almost totally unheralded work of singer-songwriter Scott Seskind, who recorded an impressively captivating and moving collection of four-tracked bedroom folk of the highest order, with an out-of-time vibe that doesn't really sync with its original 1984 release date. Definitely on the loner-ish end of the folk spectrum, with songs that are really, really great and which manage to remain haunting long past their leaving. Truly an album that deserves to be heard by more people immediately. " - Other Music

アルバムについて Kassel Jaeger (aka François J. Bonnet) returns to Shelter Press after Swamps / Things, Shifted in Dreams, and the recent reissue of the classic Zauberberg, co-composed with Akira Rabelais and Stephan Mathieu. With this major new album, entitled Sub Re, Bonnet continues his long exploration of the musical possibilities of sound, extending the concrete approach developed at the Groupe de Recherches Musicales, the historic and essential Parisian studio that Bonnet has been directing since 2018. Sub re, in Latin, can mean “under the thing, under the substance, under the matter.” It's precisely this direct approach to music, drawing on the extraction of raw sound material, that forms the basis of this album. Under the matter thus signals the concrete aspect of music, but not the concrete that is transfigured, becoming vapor and form, the substrate of an idea. Rather, it signals the concrete beneath the concrete, in the immanence of sounds, in their becoming, as a driving force, like a tide, like a vault of imperious and powerful matter. To achieve this, Bonnet draws on a multitude of sound sources (acoustic, electronic, natural or artificial, created on purpose or found by chance) and a multitude of contexts and occasions to give them form. The movement, a shell, a bell, a spell, for example, was heard for the first time during a concert organized in Venice in connection with Latifa Echakhch's contribution to the Swiss Pavilion at the 2022 Art Biennale, while the last movement on the record, signalmirror, concluded a piece presented at the first Sound Biennale in Sion (Switzerland) in 2023. These elements, formed and detached from their original context of appearance, of the places and people who made them possible and listened to them, contribute to a complex layering of climates and sonic worlds and help create a contrasting album, where density and tenuity coexist in a succession of moving waves, sometimes laden with memories, sometimes filled with regrets, always set in motion by their own morphology. Sub Re also refers to a chapter in Victor Hugo's Toilers of the Sea, a key passage in which the main character, faced with a colossal task, finds himself alone in the middle of the sea, beneath a gigantic shipwreck caught in the jaws of an isolated reef, surrounded by water, currents, and winds, alone to face the impossible. It is indeed beneath the surface that actions arise, decisions are made, and intuition guides us.

Otto A. Totland and Erik Skodvin turn the contrast down even further on their fourth album, journeying through nuanced shades with electroacoustic atmospheres that dilate time. RIYL Angelo Badalamenti, Laurel Halo, Biosphere, Richard Skelton. With each subsequent album, Deaf Center have chipped away at some of their signature sound's decorative elements, getting closer to the emotional and stylistic core each time. Since the beginning, they've been inspired by low-lit, noir-esque atmospheres, but where their earliest material hinged around distinct, memorable themes, usually played by Totland on piano, they've evolved to emphasise the mood itself. Indeed, Totland's playing is more languid and measured than ever here, creating a tidal ebb that laps against Skodvin's measured strings and subtle synth tones rather than a fulcrum for each track to pivot around. The two part title track is maybe the best example of their arc; the first part is remarkably gauzy, with each instrument used as ambiance. Pianos shimmer into darkness and oscillators whirr and feed back in the distance as if they're being pulled away by a malfunctioning tape echo. By the long second part, though, we've been transported back to the 'Pale Ravine' era - the moody electroacoustic textures are all but gone and Skodvin has traded his synths for cello, playing in short, sharp strokes against Totland's assertive notes. But even this is fleeting, before the track has finished, its instrumentation is drowned by dissonance and distortion that prepares the palate for 'I Myst', a glitchy, cinematic highlight that'll appeal to fans of Ryuichi Sakamoto's collaborations with Alva Noto. Stick around and you'll hear the duo's first track with a guest musician, too. On 'Further', they invite Berlin-based British composer and producer Simon Goff, who's worked with Hildur Guðnadóttir and Jóhann Jóhansson, among others, to play violin and viola over their frozen soundscapes.

Otto A Totland's modern compositional elements are most widely recognized as half of the Norwegian duo Deaf Center, where his melancholic, intricate piano work provides haunting relief to the beds of noise and deep strings from Erik K Skodvin. Pinô is the first full-length release by Totland, though his solo work has been released once, as the 5-minute A-side of Sonic Pieces 7inch Harmony From the Past. Otto's previously brief vignettes are now expanded into a fully personal realization of his own style. Initial track Open fills itself with heavy, knowing pauses that quickly become overwhelmed with the desire to understand what's to come. Each silence leads into quick flutters of keys, preparing the listener for a vast terrain of giddy beauty, bleak depths, and true contentedness. Pinô quickly recalls deep winter; in front of a fireplace for days on end, you lose how far along you've ventured into the 18 tracks without any idea how far is left to go. The experience feels inevitable, with no other option but to curl up somewhere cozy and appreciate the sense of timelessness that Totland has created. His album is a haunting modern compositional treasure, expressed through instrumentals completely unique to Totland and captured masterfully by Nils Frahm at Durton Studios. With Pinô, Otto A Totland appears out of the Norwegian landscape, sharing an achievement that will provide a relief during the brooding winter darkness. Though a highly personal endeavor, the recognizable continuation of Totland’s compositions will attract fans of Deaf Center, and the cinematic and classical components of his solo work will hold sway for those familiar with Harold Budd or Dustin O’Halloran.

Inventor of the “infinite guitar,” Canadian musician Michael Brook’s 1992 4AD record Cobalt Blue is a timeless and quietly stunning collection of instrumental pieces and shimmering dreamscapes, featuring contributions from ambient music pioneer Brian Eno, composer & multi-instrumentalist Roger Eno, and Grammy-winning producer Daniel Lanois.

Recorded later that year, Live at the Aquarium captures Brook’s rare solo performance in London, highlighting the hypnotic sustain and atmosphere that define his work. Beyond his albums, Brook has scored acclaimed films including Into the Wild, Brooklyn, and An Inconvenient Truth.

Newly remastered by Rashad Becker and presented as a 2XCD and crystal clear 2LP with artwork by Alison Fielding based on the original v23 designs, this set marks the first vinyl reissue of Cobalt Blue and the vinyl debut of Live at the Aquarium — a long-overdue celebration of an underrated gem in the 4AD catalogue.

Brook is known as a pioneer in the ambient music movement and a highly sought-after producer, especially in the arena of world music, for Peter Gabriel’s Real World Records. He has worked with a vast range of important artists, including Cheb Khaled, U. Srinivas, Mary Margaret O’Hara, and the Pogues, and toured with David Sylvian and Robert Fripp and with John Cale.

Brook was nominated for a Grammy Award in 1996 for his album with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Night Song, and for a Golden Globe in 2008 for the Into the Wild soundtrack. El Infierno won the 2011 Havana Film Festival award for best music. In 2024, Nusrat’s album Chain of Light, produced by Brook, was The Guardian’s World Music album of the year.

Happy Today, the third album from guitarist/bandleader Jeff Parker’s long-running ETA IVtet, was recorded live at Lodge Room in Los Angeles on August 20, 2025. This fresh entry into the IVtet’s catalog captures Parker and the band – including drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, and saxophonist Josh Johnson – on record outside of the now-shuttered Highland Park micro-club ETA for the first time.

The performance also captures a distinctly joyful night of togetherness set against the backdrop of dark times. “2025 was a very difficult year for me and my family,” Parker says. “Dealing with being displaced from the Eaton fires for eight months, and the kind of toll that that instability took on my family’s mental health and general outlook, coupled with Donald Trump being back in office and basically making life miserable for everyone… There was a lot of sadness and despair. But feeling the sense of community that we created with our concert, and later hearing the recording, seeing the beautiful footage that had been shot and the photographs of such joy to be back in that space and to be making music again: It was a very happy moment. So I called the record Happy Today. It’s meant to be a statement of joy.”

That joy and camaraderie found in communal space seems to be a major catalyst for the ETA IVtet’s music. The band’s audience is, somehow, an essential part of the formula. Case in point: the show at Lodge Room was actually meant to be the cherry on top of a weekend of studio sessions by the band. Those sessions were intended to be the next album released by the group, its first ever studio record. Upon listening back, though, it was clear to Parker that the Lodge Room performance was the recording that shined brightest and felt most true to the band’s spirit, harkening back to the weekly session the four musicians held at ETA for so many years.

ETA was undoubtedly more than just the namesake of the band. Part laboratory, part low-stakes proving ground, it’s where the language of the IVtet’s sound percolated and coalesced over the course of an almost mythical seven-year-long Monday night residency that yielded two critically-acclaimed records—2022’s Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy and 2024’s The Way Out of Easy—and an instantly recognizable group sound.

Happy Today is that sound—the IVtet's signature syntax built around long-form, minimalist improvisation—expanding confidently into a larger space while creating the same hypnotizing, deeply-tuned listening effect on visibly enraptured audiences. The album contains two sidelong pieces recorded as the band performed in the round at Lodge Room, surrounded by an audience of 400 or so deep listeners. (The venue, appropriately enough, sits on the same street and just a few hundred feet away from the storefront that used to be ETA.)

The drastic change in venue size, and this document in general, is representative of an expanding demand to experience this band live that has been surging for years, starting with the release of their debut album Mondays. For the subsequent, final year that ETA was open, there would typically be a line down the block on Monday evenings, with far more people trying to catch the show than the club could hold. Even if you could get inside the building, given the limited capacity, the IVtet was a difficult band to actually see play. Couple that with the fact that before the closure of the club in December 2023, the IVtet had never played outside of Los Angeles. Access to the live experience had been extremely limited, and that has seemed to feed a sense of mystery and allure around the band’s music for the many fans of Mondays and The Way Out of Easy.

On paper, the IVtet’s growing audience is something of a conundrum. After all, minimal longform improvisation is likely the precise antithesis of streaming-centered content culture. Despite that, at the show that produced Happy Today, as with any IVtet show, the audience willingly settles into and accepts the band’s pace as they iron out a story which digs deeply into every facet of an idea before investigating a new one. Here the attention economy feels lightyears away, the crowd instead surrendering to that old and very human penchant for listening. With open ears, the crowd stands ready for a big yarn, a long tale, and from the jump there seems to be a trust between performer and audience that mimics the trust between the musicians as they move from detail to detail.

“The band isn't afraid to explore static spaces,” says Parker. “It seems like the thing is to stay on one idea for a while. Really, for a long time. To kind of exhaust it. And then one person shifts and then the thing moves together.”

“Everybody is constantly dropping crumbs and you can take them or you can leave them,” agrees Bellerose. “There are these little hints, these little moments, and everybody's aware of them.”

“When it is time to change, it can change very quickly,” says Butterss. “If someone suggests a new idea, it can flip in an instant. Everyone's constantly ready to go with it if the moment calls for it.”

“Like Swimwear,” the side-length opener of Happy Today, contains a quintessential example of this distinct IVtet move. The track gets off the ground slowly but deliberately, ramping up tension over the course of its first ten minutes without a moment of harmonic dissonance. The band, rather, steadily pulls at the corners of the rhythm. Here each member steps forward and backward in the sonic space to build a gleefully disorienting group cadence, where the repetitions of the individual overlap in such a trancelike way that even soloistic breaks from Parker’s electric guitar or Johnson’s effected alto sax never manage to snap the tension wire. Bellerose works deep into the rhythmic fascia, employing all manner of auxiliary percussion—strewn across his kit, tucked into his shoe, or wrapped around his legs—all without a hint of novelty. Every micro-choice comes from a place of both curiosity and confidence.

And then the shift: just as the thing is about to come unglued Bellerose opts into a smooth, low-register downbeat groove that Butterss has been auditioning for the previous minute or so. Parker swiftly kicks into an organ-like drone while Johnson and Butterss stay the course. It’s a series of decisions that could go any number of ways depending on the night, like running water pushing into fresh geography, moving from tributary to mainstream, past the levee and into the floodplain. There is no set path; if it went a different direction it would still be the cumulative result of the same water flowing.

That is to say that there are no hard and fast rules to what the IVtet does. Defining the music, in fact, is something that the band takes special care not to do. Living in that mystery, it seems, helps to keep the path open, cleared to push into new and satisfying territory.

“For me, the thing to protect is just where it started from, which was freedom and openness,” says Bellerose. “In the early days of the band Jeff was recognizing how we were all communicating within the structure of playing standards. He's one of the greatest producers I've ever worked with because he has this vision. And a big part of producing is casting—putting the right people in the room. So these shifts, they're completely natural within these improvised pieces that we do because the foundation was there and Jeff knew it. He had already noticed the communication within the band, but wanted to really push it further.”

The key to Parker’s push lies in the generosity to step back, to allow each member an equal voice, and to de-center himself. What we hear on Happy Today is an egalitarian group sound by design, curious and intuitive.

“Everybody's listening in a way where it's not always like ‘I'm going to go with you’,” says Johnson. “But it's always ‘I hear you’. And sometimes it's ‘I hear you and I'm going to stay here and allow the tension of these two things to exist for a while before maybe joining you.’ But the thing that's cool is that everybody’s hearing it. Because of the time that we've spent together there’s a maturity to the listening—a very special version of deep listening.”

“The number of times that we've talked about the music is so few compared to the years and years of playing,” Johnson continues. “I think that's one of the really beautiful things about the band—how organically the way that we play together has come about and evolved over time. Definitely on brand for the music that the band makes too. Slowly evolving, long form development.”

“I learned how to improvise in this band,” reveals Butterss, astonishingly. “I didn't really play improvised music before. So my whole approach to improvisation has been shaped by playing with Jeff, Jay, and Josh. It is a band and it has its own language. I think you could drop the needle on any of the recordings and people would be able to say ‘that's the quartet.’ It's very distinctive and it's developed very organically. We have never talked about it, I don't think.”

“That's our band,” says Parker of “Like Swimwear,” almost with an outsider’s sense of fascination at the recording. He seems to feel the same enchantment and surprise that the audience does while listening, despite being a primary part of the process. “That's it. I mean, that's what the ETA Quartet does.”

It’s a blessing for this band to be so expertly documented in its naturally public, live context. The two sidelong improvisations from Lodge Room that make up Happy Today, as with the recordings that made up the IVtet’s first two albums, are beautifully rendered by engineer Bryce Gonzales—recorded and mixed live, direct to a Nagra tape machine utilizing a compact outboard rig that he built himself, specifically to record this band. Much like the thumbprint originality coming from the players themselves, Gonzales’ capture of the music is its own signature, his mixes a form of sound improvisation themselves.

A major addition to this particular presentation is the full album length film by Charlie Weinmann, documenting the band's performance of Happy Today at Lodge Room, which will be released in tandem with the album. A shadow-laden, almost noirlike capture of the band in its full sprawling glory, Weinmann’s camera makes the joyful reality of seeing the IVtet at work widely accessible for the first time.

With Happy Today the reach of Parker’s IVtet extends further than ever before, but the essential formula, if there is one, remains the same. The anchor seems to be in variations on an almost alchemical communication—a feeling of connection between band members, sure, but also between the band and the audience. It’s an ongoing trust exercise, born organically in the corner of a small room in Los Angeles and flowing outward at exactly its own natural pace. It’s social music with a clear ability to move those willing to listen. Happy Today is an invitation to become part of the exchange and experience the joy of deep listening.

At the age of 72, "Evil" Graham Lee, the legendary pedal steel pioneer and veteran of the iconic Australian band The Triffids, delivers his first ever album under his own name titled ‘I Think I’m Alone Now’. In addition to his work with The Triffids, Graham’s place in ambient history was cemented in 1990 when his evocative pedal steel became the soulful centerpiece of The KLF’s masterpiece, Chill Out (specifically on the highlight “Baltimore to Fair Play”).I Think I’m Alone Now is a profound exploration of the instrument's emotional range, blending traditional country infused melodies with vast, reverb drenched ambient textures. The album spans six tracks, anchored by the Side B title track, a 15 minute textural piece that leans heavily into the ambient genre. From the delicate melancholy of "Seeking Beauty in Sadness" to the curious abstraction of "Nursery in the Beehive," Lee uses his pedal steel and an array of pedals to sculpt unique, haunting soundscapes that exist between tradition and the avant garde.The connection is brought full circle with exclusive liner notes written by The KLF’s Bill Drummond. Reflecting on a forty year friendship that began when The Triffids served as the backing band for Drummond’s solo debut, The Man, Drummond provides a personal and poignant context for this long awaited solo bow.A 180g pressing housed in a full sleeve designed by Bradley Pinkerton with metallic sticker and bespoke inner sleeve featuring liner notes signed by Bill Drummond.

Music for movies by Václav Kadrnka "Absence of the loved one is a theme running through both films, but during the creative process we never discuss with the Havels the themes, symptoms or attributes of the characters. We do not specify any meanings. Our collaboration is intuitive, based on interconnectedness. We neither explain things to each other nor analyse. From the outset we have a common goal: to quieten the viewers’ perception, to attune them to certain vibrations by visual, musical and acoustic repetitions, thus enabling them to focus on every tiny detail, every subtle aesthetic quality, so that by the end of the film they have a sense of reconciliation. In fact it is a state similar to meditation or prayer. The aim is being shown Mercy. Each time, the linking of the filmed images with Irena and Vojtech’s music has uncovered a new quality that we have named: a commentary on eternity. Characters cease to be determined by their senses, psychological motivations, or the times they live in. They find liberation in the stream of eternal time." /Václav Kadrnka "We would like to thank all our friends, sound engineers and musicians. The main thanks goes to director Václav Kadrnka, his family and all his collaborators for the precious opportunity to assist them in creating both films. We have worked on our music for the film Saving One Who Was Dead for three years. We met with Václav, discussed the screenplay while it was being born and many other things. We have gradually prepared several working versions that included compositions for piano, Indonesian gamelan, gongs, Tibetan bowls, bells and mini-bells. Yet, step by step, we made it simpler and simpler and eventually only kept violas da gamba, organ and chanting. Everything else was redundant. We made most of the recordings of the compositions for viola da gamba in a church in Prague. The composition for organ was recorded in Milan where we performed a concert shortly before the pandemic arrived in December 2019. We tried to record it in various churches in Bohemia but it was not until the church in Milan that we found the best sounding organ. As for Little Crusader, we recorded the music for the film after it was completed. We had several versions and used the piano version for this album. Together with Václav, we searched for instruments that would work the best for this Medieval story. Eventually, we opted for harmonium with simple chanting which accompanies the character little boy Jenik. Violas da gamba intertwine, move close and then apart from each other the same way as paths of little boy Jenik and his father who is searching for him. Simple chanting and Tibetan bowl accompany scenes with little boy Jenik’s mother who awaits them at home. Trombone and saxophone are like metal swords and the knights’ armor. Violoncello and viola da gamba walk in the rhythm of horse’s hooves, in the rhythm of heartbeat of both the horse and his rider – a father searching for his lost son." / Irena and Vojtěch Havlovi

src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=2063437934/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless=""><a href="https://havlovi.bandcamp.com/album/saving-one-who-was-dead-little-crusader">Saving One Who Was Dead / Little Crusader The Havels / Irena &amp; Vojtech Havlovi</a>

It began somewhere between sleep and memory. After first meeting in dreams, in Brussels and Berlin, on landscapes that felt strangely close to Vilnius, Marija Rasa aka emer and Ugnė Uma leisurely rewrote those visions into songs. What followed became a collection of moments suspended in idle summers, familiar faces, gentle motions, skin touched by golden sun. These songs wander through closeness and distance, tracing the delicate emotional shifts between us, who almost understand each other completely. ‘you and me’ lives in the space where magical realism meets everyday intimacy: honey-colored evenings, recurring thoughts, and the slow surrender to things unfolding on their own.

On Timeless Records: From The Archives (1974–1991), Antal rethreads the Dutch label’s glory years into a double‑LP of modal and spiritual fire - from Pharoah Sanders to Art Blakey, Woody Shaw and beyond - built for dancers, diggers and late‑night headphones alike. Timeless Records: From The Archives (1974–1991) is the sound of a crate‑digging DJ kneeling at the altar of a jazz label that quietly documented a whole other history. Amsterdam selector and Rush Hour founder Antal has spent decades slipping Timeless sides into house and techno sets, letting modal vamps and spiritual climaxes light up dance floors that never thought of themselves as “jazz” rooms. Here he steps out of the booth and into the curator’s chair, assembling a double album that pulls prime cuts from the label’s classic era into a single, deeply personal narrative. Rather than a label sampler, this is a love letter: tracks chosen not for rarity points, but for the way they still crackle when dropped between drum machines and deep‑cut disco. The line‑up reads like a roll call of late‑20th‑century improvisational heft. Pharoah Sanders bookends the set, his tenor and spiritual gravitation field framing everything that happens in between. Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers bring the hard‑swinging core, a reminder that Timeless never treated “modern” and “tradition” as enemies. There are burnished, road‑tested grooves from George Adams, modal fire and lyricism from Joanne Brackeen, and muscular, harmonically charged excursions by Woody Shaw in league with the Tone Jansa Quartet. Carter Jefferson and Gary Bartz carry the post‑Coltrane torch in their own ways, weaving horn lines that tug between horizontal melody and vertical harmonic exploration. On the rhythm‑section side, records by Ronnie Mathews Trio, Rodney Jones, John Lee & Gerry Brown feat. Gary Bartz, and Joe Gilman feat. Joe Henderson testify to how deeply Timeless believed in documenting working bands, not just studio one‑offs. For Antal, the compilation is as much about ethos as it is about individual tunes. Timeless, founded and run by the Wigt family, built its catalogue on a combination of obsessive listening and independent stubbornness: recording American heavyweights in Europe, investing in younger European talents, and giving space to sessions that didn’t quite fit US label expectations. That spirit resonates with Antal’s own path as a DJ and shop owner, continually making the case that “a great song is a great song, no matter when or where it was made.” In his hands, Timeless’s recordings cease to be archival artifacts and become active tools again - modules for sets, lenses for hearing contemporary music differently, invitations for new ears. Musically, the focus leans hard into modal and spiritual jazz, the zones where repetition, vamp and chant open up into something trance‑like. You can hear why these sides speak to a house‑raised selector: bass figures that roll for days, drum patterns that sit right in the pocket, themes that ascend slowly rather than peaking in a hurry. Yet the set also honours Timeless’s breadth, folding in more straight‑ahead swing, Latin undercurrents and tightly written heads that showcase the compositional muscle of the label’s artists. The sequencing moves with a DJ’s sense of flow rather than chronology, arcs of energy and colour that encourage you to play both records front to back instead of cherry‑picking the obvious names. Physically, From The Archives (1974–1991) arrives as an object worthy of the music it carries. Housed in a sturdy gatefold sleeve, it features liner notes by Antal himself, tracing his long relationship with the Timeless catalogue and sketching out why each inclusion matters to him. Dirk‑Jan Deckwitz’s artwork nods to classic jazz‑sleeve iconography without lapsing into retro cosplay, placing the compilation firmly in the present. A 50th‑anniversary Timeless Jazz sticker on the outer sleeve quietly reminds you that this is not just any reissue project, but part of a half‑century celebration of one of Europe’s most quietly important jazz labels. For collectors, the compilation functions as both map and doorway into a discography that can otherwise feel daunting. For selectors, it’s a crate within a crate: ready‑to‑go cuts that can slot into sets without losing their edge. For new explorers, it’s an introduction to a world where Pharoah Sanders, Art Blakey, Woody Shaw, Gary Bartz and their peers still sound shockingly contemporary. In bringing these recordings back into circulation with a dancer’s ear and a fan’s heart, Antal turns Timeless’s past into a living resource, confirming that this music was never meant to stay in the archives.

NYC’s Urner chimes with Dutch label topo2’s tastes for shimmering electronic melody and subtly crooked structures on a quietly charming LP made from Japanese lava, modular synths and software: tipped to fans of Irdial’s Anthony Manning, Georgia’s Brian Close, Visible Cloaks. In the wake of a self-issued 2020 debut and tape on Atlantic Rhythms, ’Afterimages’ is Isaac Pearl aka Urner’s 3rd album and the first to fix his ephemeral tactility to vinyl. Under a name and title hinting (to us at least) a play on psychedelic or oneiric experience, the music follows with an often fleeting, tongue-tip sensuality that patently fits topo2’s emerging remit, as heard in their sides by Upsammy, Mor Elian, Windu. It’s not hard to trace lines from ‘80s Japanese environmental ambient to ‘90s electronica and modernist reflections on new age, partly thanks to its combo of clinking, rhythmelodic Sanukite lithopone tones - think a xylophone made from rare volcanic rock - with analog and digital synth sources, applied with a mix of care and nuanced daring that feels timeless yet also up-to-date in its oloid asymmetry. A whispering opener ‘Options, Thoughts’ unfolds into hyaline dimensions, where the rest settles, offbeat, at meditative pace, between plucked melodic chin reactions of ‘Stranding’, dreamy aeolian harmonics of ‘Anni,’ and air-kissing romance of ‘Lover Cusp.’ The Visible Cloaks comparison is apt on a standout ’Suspend’ and the cascading notes of ‘Tides,’ to a quietly fizzing conclusion.

Sans Merit arrives on Knekelhuis with his second album Trolley Polly. A radiant album from currently LA-based Australian musician Griffin James, one that leans into unguarded joy with a playful, disarming sincerity. The album rocks right away into our world. Lifting off where the guitar pedals mash the gas and go. While at other moments the acoustic guitar passages carry a neofolk intimacy, like the low-voiced choir singer cast out of a pastoral world, left to wander in his own solitude. These moments are swept up by surging shoegaze episodes, slipping into hazy hypnagogic pop interludes and wiry post-punk turns, giving the record a restless, shifting pulse. Beneath it all lies a lyrical sensitivity that grounds the album’s movement. Sans Merit reflects on the big questions in a world that feels increasingly fragile, balancing vulnerability with a self-aware, gently naïve humor, while staying attuned to the emotional undercurrents of everyday life. It’s this perspective that makes Trolley Polly feel so human, alive in its contradictions, and quietly comforting.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room. Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement. The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth. At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede. Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own." Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.