NEW ARRIVALS
1331 products
Formed in Hakata before relocating to Tokyo in 1984, Akebonojirushi quickly established themselves as one of the most adventurous acts in Japan’s underground music scene. The six-piece band defied easy categorization, blending sharp-edged New Wave textures with the groove and freedom of Funk-Jazz, then distilling it all into daring, unpredictable Pop songs. Originally released in 1987 on the influential DIW label, Paradise Mambo captured the energy of a vibrant era when Japanese musicians were fearlessly expanding the boundaries of sound. Brimming with angular rhythms, infectious basslines, and a playful yet avant-garde spirit, the album remains a shining document of 80s Japanese postmodernism—both accessible and experimental, danceable yet completely uncompromising. Now reintroduced to a new generation of listeners, Paradise Mambo stands not only as a time capsule of the bubbling Tokyo music scene of the late 80s, but also as a timeless example of bold creativity. This reissue shines a spotlight on a band that deserves renewed recognition for their adventurous vision and genre-blurring artistry.
The Payback is the 37th studio album by American musician James Brown. The album was released in December 1973 by Polydor Records. It was originally scheduled to become the soundtrack for the blaxploitation film Hell Up in Harlem, but was rejected by the film's producers, who dismissed it as "the same old James Brown stuff."
The Payback is considered a high point in Brown's recording career, and is now regarded by critics as a landmark funk album. Its revenge-themed title track, a #1 R&B hit, is one of his most famous songs and an especially prolific source of samples for record producers.
“Soul Revolution Part II” is a landmark roots reggae album created in 1971 by Bob Marley & The Wailers in collaboration with Lee “Scratch” Perry. Before their major label debut, the band delivered raw yet striking performances, enhanced by Perry’s innovative production, resulting in a uniquely deep and minimal sound. The album features numerous tracks that would later be re-recorded and gain worldwide recognition, including “Sun Is Shining,” “African Herbsman,” and “Keep On Moving.” Marley’s powerful lyrics, combined with the harmonies of Peter Tosh and Bunny Wailer, reflect a profound spiritual and musical exploration that defines his early work. This album captures a rare moment where the maturity of The Wailers and Perry’s studio wizardry intersected to produce a truly significant piece of reggae history.

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.

The third drop into the Poorly Knit ocean, sees Bruce washed ashore with three silted and barnacled explorations into dub techno, ambient and beyond.
Seizing the microphone for the first time since his sophomore album Not Ready For Love, Bruce weaves a seductive siren song with Golden Water Queen, treading sweet nothings into the bubbling abyss. Sinking further into the deep, The Hand fizzes and froths at the fringes of nothingness, born from the wishing of a softer and more insidious soundtrack to Denis Villeneuve’s Dune. Then finally the waves are parted with DHam’s Jam, bobbing along 8 minutes of bouncing kick and prancing percussion, pulling you with peaceful buoyancy along the dancefloor, into “the zone.”
With a continued emphasis on the importance of physical medium within dance music, the 12” is pressed with eco-friendly “Eco-Mix” reground PVC and sleeved in DIY lino printed sleeves.
Poole’s new album Ben Beinn follows 2024’s In a River Shadow, further exploring an electronic folkway composed of environment and abstraction. If the previous record moved with flowing water and submerged folk song, Ben Beinn climbs into elemental instability: passing storms, coded skies, and sodden ground.
Across the album, Poole creates a phantasmic Celtic New Age sound world that’s marked by microtonal harmony, and swelling dissonance. Voices in Gaelic, Norwegian, and English surface and dissolve, stretched beyond recognition — more weather than word.
The ten song cycle opens with 1000, bagpipes and strings emerge from mountain icicles and frozen streams. Leaf is the centre point, the skittering squelches of moss, mud and grass, form a slippery rhythmic track. The album closes with 365 Days of Rain, a year’s rainfall data becoming a rhythmic lattice that slips from metrical order into converging motifs.
Recorded in Scotland between 2024–2025, Ben Beinn is a located listen, shaped by recordings of frozen hill passes, storms, and granite using contact mics and hydrophones. Rather than simply reflecting place, these recordings press against it — layering the sonic materiality of landscape with synthesis and song. An inflection point between fabrication — folk music as performed identity, a carrier of story — and its obfuscation through digital networks, where tradition is refracted into plural forms.
Reference points include the emotionally saturated textures of Inoyama Land and the folk-electronic hybrids of Eli Storbekken. There’s a tuning of biophony with the hyperrealist processes of Noah Creshevsky, owing as much to Galen Tipton’s adventures than the disquieting sonic simulations of James Ferraro.
Ben Beinn continues Poole’s excavation of environmental and folk material through contemporary methods. Shaped by the slow pressures of land and sky — a music of erosion, recurrence, and elemental presence.
Following up a string of releases on labels such as Mana, Sun Ark, Orange Milk Records and Abyss, Other People are honoured to present the new album Fobia by Argentinian musician and sound artist aylu, real name Ailin Grad.
Inspired in part of Grad's many collaborative projects over the last few years, Fobia sees her collecting and rearranging the music and sounds fostered within these to create an intimate, spiritually charged album that turns personal struggle into collective resistance and resilience. What initially started as a way for Grad to process her own experiences with agora- and claustrophobia, and an attempt to navigate feelings of shame and a perceived demand to keep these feelings bottled up and hidden from the world, she began to realise how mental health struggles are not isolated incidents but part of broader systems of collective suffering and injustice.
“It took a long time for me to discover that my issues were part of a system that produces these kinds of symptoms and that it takes a lot of courage to find a way around them. I have the feeling that more and more people suffer from these kind of things in some way or another, and what was at first taught as something you should be silent about and keep private, I discovered that the more you talk about it and share it with people you trust, the more you realise that it’s part of something much bigger.”
This tension and constant pull between fear and joy, light and dark, is present throughout the album. From the strained breathing featured in opening track Yodo echoing the suffocating feeling from claustrophobia interspersed with the lighter textures of Obelisco Elysium and Prospero offering up a sense of relief, to the almost cacophonous, immersive sounds of El Sol Mal, mirroring the complex, often contradictory emotions when navigating mental health challenges.
Fobia invites listeners to move through pain with honesty, finding strength in shared experiences.
Like an ambient house comet, Local Artist Ian Wyatt’s Slow Riffs return to Mood Hut 13 years since their debut LP with a bevy of weightless, subtly pendulous levitations.
The projected dream sequence of ’Simulacra’ connotes an out of body experience with a poetic grasp of ambient, deep house and their roots in jazz, fourth world and new age urges. With subtle holographic dub diffusions the record achieves a pleasant sense of treading air/water and being gently buffeted by cosmic breezes. Take the title tune for example, whose rippling congas and bleary sax motifs feels like passages of earliest Terre Thaemlitz meets Jon Hassell, while elsewhere they touch a subtly ruggeder vein like Rezzett’s ambient jungle thizzers in its depth charged subs and aerial interplay of drums and pads, giving way to Romance-like sensations with the tousled choral pads of ‘Cosmic Joke’, while ‘Mutual Dreaming’ harks back to early vaporwave templates of 0PN via James Ferraro.

Absolutely killer drop on False Aralia, a new label set up by Brian Foote (Kranky, Peak Oil) to document the shifting forms of photographer/musician Izaak Schlossman, who explores a more sloshing, dubwise momentum this time as Selfsame - RIYL T++, Purelink, Vainqueuer, Xth Reflexion, Topdown Dialectic, Carrier
In finely stitched pursuit to his debut as Zero Key on False 01, this one is distinguished by a more bass-heavy meat on the liquified bones of his sound. All brownian motion and psychoacoustic spectres, the five tracks explore variants of a sound dear to anyone who’s followed the lines from Basic Channel’s ‘90s works thru the crankier mutations of Chain Reaction to where that sound has recently shored up in the leftfield ambient imagination via the likes of Huerco S. and co on one hand, and the more austere strain of Paperclip Minimiser and the Aught label on the other.
Feet barely touch the floor thru his unique conception of ambient club physics. Spongiform subs and aqueous chords take a masterfully adroit motion from its air-stepping opener, threaded with tongue tip vocal contrails, into echoes of the way post-punks were spurred by steppers dub to mutate the sound to their own pleasures, and heads-down into what feels like a disembodied Torsten Profrock production with the 3rd work, whilst the 4th matches Carrier or Hoavi for levels of under the hood nuance, before properly bolstering the bass in its ‘04b’ like a prime Substance & Vainquerer techno stepper.
Tip!

Sleaford Mods have made an explosive return today, releasing brand new single Megaton via Rough Trade Records.
Over an arc of rolling beats and atmospheric electronics, the track is peppered with acerbic bars digging out cultural mediocrity. A union of groove and guile, Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn are ruffling feathers and moving feet with their first new release as Sleaford Mods since 2023 album UK GRIM.
Continuing the duo’s partnership with the charity War Child, all profits from Megaton will be donated to support War Child’s life-changing work with children affected by conflict.
Alongside the digital release, a seven-inch single featuring the track Give ‘Em What They Want; as its B-side, is now available for pre-order & will be released on November 7.
All profits go to War Child
Looking back more than four years later at Haram, it is easier to see the forest for the trees. At the time, much of the attention fell on how this outsider duo would fare under the bright lights- which was fair, Armand Hammer had never done a single producer record before- and here they were working with a living legend. Now, with a little distance, it’s easier to see how Alchemist stepped out of his comfort zone to meet them where they were, and how all three artists then absconded for parts unknown. The flashbulb energy of “Bring The Stars Out”, asymmetric drone of “Chicharrones”, fugue-bounce of “God’s Feet”, and good luck finding analogues for “Peppertree” or “Stonefruit”. Haram doesn’t sound like anything else in the ALC discography, nor in Armand Hammer’s, for that matter. Haram was a one-shot kill that somehow contained some of the most accessible work ELUCID and billy woods had ever done, as well as some of their most experimental, and it all sounded cohesive.Needless to say, they didn’t do this alone; KAYANA’s golden voice upps the wattage on “Black Sunlight,” while Fielded’s sultry alto gets chopped and screwed on “Aubergine”. Earl Sweatshirt’s cameo on the sun-soaked “Falling Out the Sky” is already a classic. Curly Castro, Amani, and Quelle Chris all turn up the heat when called upon.But since we are talking about retrospect here, the thing about Haram isn’t that it still sounds as good as it did when it came out. The amazing thing is that it actually sounds even better than it did then. You don’t have to take our word for it either, run it up one time, with the lights low and something on ice, see if it doesn’t take you somewhere new, again.

Assembling a 'Kwaidan'-style anthology from chewed scraps of noir, horror and dystopian sci-fi movies, billy woods chronicles Black American angst on 'GOLLIWOG', running circles around his peers and arriving on the AOTY for fans of Ka, EARL, Aesop Rock, Westside Gunn or Cannibal Ox. Featuring production from El-P, The Alchemist, DJ Haram, Saint Abdullah, Shabaka Hutchings and others.
The English language is violence, I hotwired it woods coolly quips on 'Jumpscare', tossing out run-on cadences to juggle polyrhythms between beatless double-bass and vaudeville Pan Sonic-esque electrical interferences. Within a track, he fully establishes the concept for 'GOLLIWOG', an album that surveys the full spectrum of horror, splicing together creaking floorboards, ticking clocks, industrial clanks, Herrmann-esque stabs and detuned pianos, maniacal screams and blood-curdling laughs to accompany knotty tales of corporeal terror. It's horrorcore in a sense, cobbling together its scenery with the same congealed raw materials as Necro or Prince Paul, but woods uses the schlocky formula to lighten his death blows, landing some of the deepest lyrical lacerations of his lengthy career so far; 'Dead Body Disposal' it ain't. "Daddy longlegs stride your home like Cecil Rhodes," he nicks, equating the fear of (harmless) spiders with the terror of a real-life boogeyman - the coloniser of Zimbabwe (where woods' father was born), no less. And the track ends with a seemingly throwaway vocal sample: "a horrid sight, the blackest gnome." A description of the titular character from American author Florence Kate Upton's 19th century children's book 'The Adventures of Two Dutch Dolls and a Golliwogg', it's actually a clue to unpicking the album's title. What's fear, exactly, ponders woods, and what's merely ideology? And how does all of this become entertainment, let alone throwaway cutesy fodder for kids?
American horror as a genre has long broadcast the innermost fears of a nation who wears its ideology so boldly that it almost vanishes. Way back in the early 20th century, H.P. Lovecraft's racism manifested in stories of an ancient evil lurking beneath the New World's disturbed earth; later on, in the wake of the contraceptive pill and the subsequent free love movement, promiscuity was met with death and mutilation in an endless slew of slasher movies; and during peak neoliberalism, a taste for "torture porn" offset the stasis of safe liberal suburbia. woods accepts the history of horror, and proposes a true Black American Gothic archetype; just like Jordan Peele's 'Get Out' bolted together familiar tropes to signal how psychologically traumatic the Black experience can be within manicured white confines, woods bundles various cultural spikes to fabricate a more dangerous lyrical weapon. On 'BLK ZMBY', the ubiquitous zombie myth - a Haitian folkloric invention that was famously repurposed by George Romero in the '60s as a critique of American capitalism - is used as packaging for a barrage of knowledge that wraps references to Fela, Dune and Usual Suspects in thorny post-colonial theory. In Romero's 'Night of the Living Dead', the Black lead character spends 90 minutes fighting off zombies only to be shot in cold blood by beer chugging rednecks; now, woods' Black zombies have taken over the asylum, ignoring accountability and poisoning the water supply while the third world's corpse is sucked dry. "Zombies go home to platters of prawn and escargot," woods says, not letting Biggie off the hook. "New mothers struggle while the zombies suckle like baby goats."
DJ Haram handles the production on 'All These Worlds are Yours', dilating Shabaka Hutchings' transcendent improvisations with damaged '50s b-movie oscillations, rasping amp distortions and microtonal drones. "Today, I watched a man die in a hole from the comfort of my own home," woods recounts, accepting the day-to-day wartime horror-tainment we're fed on social media, 'Human Centipede'-style. "Trench fire, silent weapons, body horror, private booth," replies E L U C I D, woods' longtime Armand Hammer cohort. And woods coaxes out some of El-P's best production work in years on 'Corinthians', linking snippets of Lu Xun's 'Diary of a Madman' - that equates the Confucian ethical system with cannibalism - with the breakdown of late-stage Abrahamic morals that'll be closer to home for Anglophone listeners. "Best believe them crackers won't make it to Mars," he quips, double-underlining a verse that muddles St. Paul with Steven King, and Noah with the military industrial complex. By itemizing his own fears in a sequence of 'Cat's Eye'-style vignettes, woods launches hooks into the contemporary façade of terror-as-amusement, a fairground haunted house that's populated with very real demons. It's shockingly effective - the Pulitzer-ready rap album woods has been promising for aeons, and one of the very best things we've heard this year so far.

Reflecting years of listening from behind the drum kit arrives Low Air, the first solo LP from Jeremy Hyman.
Building on previous dance-floor-tuned outputs for Max D’s Future Times label, Low Air moves into a broader compositional arena: pared-down rhythms guide a wash of understated harmony, and compositions surface from a stream of purling noise. There were no standard operations across the music, but one key to the sound is the doubling and tripling of playback speed to fit musical passages into old sampling equipment. This process opened up a new line of inquiry into fidelity and pitch that can be heard throughout the LP.

The second volume of Invisible Inc’s 10-year anniversary celebrations has landed, hot on the heels of the scorching first volume.
Where Volume 1 focussed on the dub-style, electronic and ambient side of the label’s output, the second volume leans towards the ‘psych’ side of the label.
As has been a consistent pattern with the label in its decade of existence is its ethos of releasing new and exclusive tracks as well as releasing on vinyl pre-existing tracks that only ever saw the light of day in the digital realm. This compilation is no different. Alongside exclusive new material from Anna vs June, E Ruscha V, Banda Magnética, Exotic Gardens, Kanot and a Coyote remix of Sordid Sound System we also have for the first time on vinyl two tracks by Hena and Futurum that went somewhat under the radar first time round and really deserved to be shared with the wider world.

Emotional Response is delighted to present Aaron Coyes (Peaking Lights / Leisure Connection) new project, as Exotic Gardens. An additional music universe as his love of dub expands to include new wave, goth and acid psychedelics across 5 catchy, bass heavy songs.
While the continuing journey of his duo band, Peaking Lights, with his wife Indra, earns plaudits and fans alike, his early years as a one-man lysergic music polymath that saw his youth in punk and hardcore bands, expanded during a mid-90s burst of “living in San Francisco” creative expansion, devouring music, genres, and influences for life.
Started as a sub-project to Peaking Lights and his personal dub excursions, Exotic Gardens pollinates a rich tapestry. Recording through the pandemic in their then home in Amsterdam, before being archived, assembled, and completed following the move back ‘home’ to the West Coast, California.
Re-embracing that love of his inner goth, the analogue warmth is all there, now featuring Coyes’ dub-languidity of stripped drum machines, widescreen bass, haunting guitar lines and an almost idle voice to peddle true, raw songs.
Combined, the pop layer of hooks and tight grooves instantly catch you. Opener and EP title, Drugs & TV is the perfect anthem for the Exotic Gardens sound, before the “dubwave” of Last Of The Light and Tonite shimmer that yearning melancholy of youth.
In the almost 10 minute dub house opus Organize Your Movement an appreciation and understanding of the psychoactive properties of the Roland 303 and 909, they also hark to a love of Industrial / Noise bands, a lineage from the death pulse of his cult project Rahdunes through to Sound Design and Sound System culture to the pop-dub psychedelics with Indra, now melded here to include a dark assault, whispering invocations and pulsing pads.
To close, Turn It On is a roaming multi-genre evocation, an exotic end from this constant troubadour, cassette junkie, record dealer, sound system builder, always looking to get back on the road, to live to roam.
“I turn it on, you lose your mind’.

The Danish/Norwegian duo of Ida Urd and Ingri Høyland believe that music is an extension of one’s immediate sensory environment. Duvet, their collaborative full-length debut, explores the way that creating sounds together is intertwined with various quotidian actions: establishing surroundings, rearranging furniture, moving towards the light, collecting flowers or other objects for aesthetic and sensuous impulses. Through a quiet and attentive process, music becomes a way of nurturing space: a soft architecture for play, writing, care, or simply rest.
Sonically, Duvet feels like an extension of Høyland’s last album, 2023’s Ode to Stone, which also featured Urd along with ambient musician Sofie Birch and visual artist Lea Guldditte Hestelund. But where that album, created in response to an open call for work themed around Denmark’s national parks, suggested rolling landscapes and endless horizons, Duvet turns inward, countering chill winds with glowing warmth. Its eight tracks seek a balance between abstraction and melody, intention and happenstance.
“We had a truly inspiring and rewarding process working with Birk Gjerlufsen Nielsen from Vanessa Amara, who co-produced and mixed the album with us,” Ingri adds. “He approached the material with great care and sensitivity, while also bringing his own distinct presence and creativity into the sound.”
Høyland and Urd both studied at the Rhythmic Music Conservatory in Copenhagen, which has turned out many acclaimed artists over the past few years, including Erica de Casier, Astrid Sonne, and Smerz. Over many years, the two composers have developed a collaborative method based on connection and trust. A practice, they write, “where composing, or rather suggesting, sounds and melodies for one another is a way of carefully talking, mending emotions and obstacles. Saying yes to one another. The compositional space becomes a nest for entangling whatever emotions, thoughts, or barriers one of the composers brings to the given day or moment.”
Quiet and contemplative, Duvet is simple on the surface but rich in timbral, textural, and emotional complexity. Høyland and Urd sourced their sounds from an array of instruments and techniques—electronic devices, modules, pedals, and also electroacoustic treatments of various wind instruments. Mixing primarily through analog tape units added further mystery and depth, weaving together wordless voices and unknown sounds—breathing, rustling, perhaps the coppery gleam of Urd’s electric bass—into a dynamic matrix. Like a nest, pull one twig and the whole thing unravels.
In the winter of 2023, Ingri Høyland and Ida Urd retreated to a summer house along the coast to create the album. Picture the scene: an abiding quiet all around. Gardens carpeted by snow; beach grass silvery against the silvery sky; a tendril of smoke rising from the chimney. Not another soul in earshot. This sanctuary was the perfect setting to yield this meditation on shelter, trust, and communication. The two composers hope the album can be a similar space for others—a temporary space of residence, it can represent a summerhouse, a cabin in the woods, your favorite bench or wherever you need to go. “The album also works really well when picking out apples in the supermarket” Urd laughs.
Recorded just a few months ago, Pub's latest EP heads into deeper, darker territory, balancing the Glasgow-based veteran's hazed cosmic arpeggios with Gescom-like squelches and brassy, detuned analog pads.
Pub's been on a tear recently; since reissuing his classic catalog (including the perennial fave 'Summer' and the underrate 'Do You Regret Pantomime?'), he's been surprisingly active, releasing his first album of new tunes in over a decade, 'Process the Wise', just last year. 'Mamor' continues the thought, apparently foreshadowing not just a series of shows ("in obscure locations" no less) but more brand new material. It's not a big departure, but that's for the best. 'Rain For Rest' is a 'Summer' style balearic slow burner at first, with tempered arpeggios trapped behind a reclining, slowed-down 4/4, but give it time and it blots into a sci-fi nightmare, introducing 'Chiastic Slide' airlock percussion and gloopy, acid-washed Skam synths.
'Mi Cielo' works like a crack of sunlight then, matching Pub's jaunty melodic sequences with major key pads, echoes and balmy chimes, and on the lengthy closer 'Groundhed', his cheeky synth melodies are washed into a vortex and pitched into melted Philip Glass-esque orchestral bliss.

After the cult favourite Apron Japan Vol.1 dropped in 2023, we’re back with the next wave!
We’ve expanded our reach beyond Japan — this time diving deeper into the sounds of the East. Featuring a diverse lineup of producers and artists across Asia and the surrounding regions, Apron East Vol.2 celebrates the rawness, late night riddims, and future classics.
FEATURING MUSIC BY:
Benedek, DJ Dreamboy, Hookuo, Isaac, DJ Jeyon, J M S KHOSAH, Kendall Timmons, KO SAITO, Jarren, Steven Julien, and Yuka Sunflora.
Incredibly, Yoshiko Sai's masterpiece, Taiji no Yume, was quietly released on cassette in 1977! This legendary collector's item, known only to a few, is now being happily reissued in its original cassette format. Following her first album, Yuji Ohno returns as arranger, lending greater musical support to Sai's world of sublime strangeness, reminiscent of the works of Kyūsaku Yumeno. As the title suggests, "A Fetus's Dream" is a journey deeper into the inner spiritual world. Yoshiko Sai, at the tender age of 24, was an isolated figure—a poet, painter, and singer. The jacket features an illustration by Sai herself, distinct from those on the CD and LP. This is truly a must-have collector's item for fans.

Aphex Twin's masterpiece “Windowlicker” was released by Warp in 1999.

