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Recorded at night by candlelight in the Temple of La Tour-de-Peilz, Switzerland, Music for Intersecting Planes captures the immediacy of sound in space. Cellist Leila Bordreuil and organist Kali Malone join in a work of austere, ritualistic presence, where the granularity of air, the vibration of strings, feedback, and subdued sine waves intersect in sculptural form.
Minimal in means yet expansive in effect, the music slowly unfolds like beads on a thread, punctuated by silence and deep breaths. Bellows whistle within feathered string harmonics, interference patterns pulsate throughout the chapel, and the environment itself becomes part of the composition, with ringing church bells and motorcycles passing in the distance.
Performed live in single takes, the music balances patience and intensity, composure and chance. The collaboration reveals new terrain: more tonal and composed than Bordreuil’s work, more textural and raw than Malone’s.
Music for Intersecting Planes is both severe and tender, an elemental convergence of cello and organ that resonates with the timeless intrigue of acoustic phenomena
Renowned US-Dutch gospel-soul powerhouse Michelle David & The True-tones mark a bold new chapter with their forthcoming album, “Soul Woman”, out February 27, 2026 on Milan-based imprint Record Kicks. Building on the critical acclaim of 2024’s “Brothers & Sisters”, a record that held a mirror to the complexities of the world, the new LP “Soul Woman” turns inward — a deeply personal exploration of identity, healing, and spiritual resilience. “How can I ask others to take time to reflect on their lives if I’m not doing the same myself?” Michelle David asks. That spirit of self-inquiry and renewal lies at the heart of “Soul Woman” — a record that embraces vulnerability while radiating strength. Musically, “Soul Woman” continues to refine the band’s signature blend of gospel fire, soul and vintage rhythm & blues, while drawing from a wider palette of influences. Echoes of Curtis Mayfield, Bobby Womack, and The Four Seasons pulse through the grooves, while the gospel fire of The Blind Boys of Alabama and the joyous uplift of Diana Ross & The Supremes lend the album both gravity and sparkle. At the center is Michelle David’s unmistakable voice — raw, warm, and filled with purpose — wrapped in rich, analog-driven arrangements from longtime collaborators Paul Willemsen (guitar, bass guitar), Onno Smit (guitar, bass guitar) and Bas Bouma (drums). Together, Michelle David & The True-tones stand tall at the forefront of the retro soul scene — blending timeless grooves with modern urgency, unshakable authenticity, and heartfelt spirit. A Voice Born in the Church, Honed on the Road. Born in New York and raised in the church, Michelle David began singing at just four years old and joined her first group, The Mission of Love, at five. Her powerhouse vocals took her around the globe, starring in acclaimed Broadway productions like Mama, The Sound of Motown, Glory of Gospel, and Mahalia, and recording with legends including Diana Ross and Michael Bolton — all before beginning her celebrated journey with The True-tones. Together, Michelle David & The True-tones have released seven critically acclaimed albums and lit up stages across Europe, from Pinkpop to North Sea Jazz and London Jazz Festival. Known for their electrifying live shows, the band has earned standing ovations from Spain to Scandinavia, appeared on major TV and radio platforms, and even performed at the 2022 Winter Olympics. Their recorded work has been equally praised: The Gospel Sessions earned an Edison Award nomination (the Dutch equivalent of a Grammy), while 2020’s Truth & Soul was named Album of the Year by Craig Charles’ BBC Radio 6 Music and Album of the Month by FIP (Radio France). Their most recent album, Brothers & Sisters (2024), marked their debut on Record Kicks and became a breakout release — celebrated by Rolling Stone France, KEXP, Jazzthing Magazine (Germany), De Volkskrant (Netherlands), and BBC 6 Music. A Testament to Soul’s Timeless Power With “Soul Woman”, Michelle David & The True-tones offer more than just a new record — it’s a musical testimony of resilience, a celebration of spiritual growth, and a reaffirmation of soul music’s ability to heal, connect, and inspire. At once rooted in classic traditions and blazing new trails, this is contemporary soul at its finest.
Hard Texas funk from the celebrated San Antonio scene. As Abe Epstein was tracking West Side brown-eyed soul groups on General McMullen Blvd., Mickey Foster and his biracial Soul Generation band were answering James Brown's call to get on the good foot just south of the River Walk. Collected here are a dozen of their swaggiest and crook-legged instrumentals, a mood building survey of the band's 1969-'77 run, including the paper hit knee-wobbler "Iron Leg." Chop up your next sample here.
Jad Fair of cult lo-fi pioneers Half Japanese has a discography that stretches across decades and countless collaborations. In the 1990s, he worked with his favourite bands—Daniel Johnston, The Pastels, Sonic Youth, Teenage Fanclub, and Yo La Tengo—cementing his reputation as one of underground rock’s most prolific and unpredictable figures.
Originally released in 1998 on Matador, Strange But True pairs Fair with Yo La Tengo for a set of wildly inventive songs whose lyrics were drawn from outrageous tabloid headlines. The result is a playful, off-kilter, and genre-hopping record that captures both Fair’s irreverent imagination and Yo La Tengo’s restless versatility.
Unavailable for years, this cult favourite now returns thanks to Joyful Noise and Bar/None, bringing back a lost gem of the ’90s indie underground. Equal parts oddball and inspired, Strange But True is a reminder of a time when indie rock thrived on eccentricity and freedom.
‘Fragments’ is the debut album from Beak> co-founder Billy Fuller. "Although this is a solo album, it’s not a solo album in the traditional sense of representing an artist’s thoughts and feelings during a particular time frame. This is a record that spans time as it collects fragments of Billy creating alone in his home studio over the last few years. Through listening, one gets the impression of art that sometimes has a vision in mind, and is sometimes just the product of someone enjoying the process of creating in the moment. During the break in Beak> activity in early 2025, Billy revisited his collected compositions and found that there was a common thread, a cohesive atmosphere. Every single track on this album was created by Billy alone, and his personality threads itself through the 16 tracks. He likens the process of compiling the tracks to making a cassette compilation for a friend when he was a kid. Fragments is moody, immersive, and utterly unbound. Across the album, kosmiche-inflected, hauntological electronica plays freely with melody, finding emotional resonance for our unpredictable times. Neu-esque repetitions and motorik grooves pulse beneath skewed electro textures, and occasional spoken-word passages drift in and out like transmissions from an unknown broadcast. Occasional flashes of psychedelic prog guitar cut through hazy atmospheres, edging the sound further toward Fuller’s own kind of hypnagogic pop, that is strange yet deeply human. Fragments isn’t an album about singles, or trends. It’s music for the love of making music, by a musician who hasn’t stopped making and releasing new music for over 25 years. It is a self-effacing triumph of musical freedom."
As Green-House, musicians Olive Ardizoni and Michael Flanagan engage human nature and the natural world through joyous, dynamic synthesis. Overlaying frequencies and expressions like camouflage, their deeply layered collaborative process begins with either artist; Ardizoni is often drawn to melody, Flanagan to harmonics. The power lies in how their ideas helix together, achieving a depth greater than the sum of its parts. For their first LP with new label home, Ghostly International, Green-House grows and refines their vivid instrumental songcraft with uncharted, genre-defying freedom and movement, a more active, percussive, and emotion-filled energy, marked by flowing bodies of sound and sweeping vistas. Hinterlands tunes into the beauty of the world with defiant, radical sincerity.
Since 2020, across a catalog of acclaimed releases via the scene-creating Los Angeles imprint, Leaving Records, the duo has pursued a curiosity in environments, reaching for innate and faraway spaces by way of organic and synthetic instrumentation, high-definition sound design, and “idiosyncratic melodies crafted with the patient and methodical hand of a gardener,” writes Pitchfork. Green-House doesn’t fit neatly into any single category. Ardizoni and Flanagan aren’t aligned with New Age ideologies or spirituality, and the ambient tag feels increasingly limited given all that’s going on in their songs, which skew closer to the realms of IDM or even modern classical on their new album. What remains inherent is an open sense of wonder, “the idea of legitimizing certain emotions within music that often aren’t taken seriously in art, like happiness and joy,” says Ardizoni, whose eclectic personality shines through even without lyrics.
They welcome influences from all over; moments on Hinterlands evoke hypnagogic folk, tropical synth-pop, pan-flute mountain music, jazzy lounge, film scores, library sounds, and other forms of paradise-world-building. The duo simply makes the music they want to hear, earnestly dreaming of idyllic settings, their hope borne of necessity.
Like any artist living in Los Angeles, the 2025 wildfires disrupted any semblance of normalcy in creative life. However, they give careful consideration to how ever-looming environmental and political anxiety may relate to the project. “There's freedom in music, not requiring nuance in order to share an emotion or a fantasy or a utopian ideal with others,” Ardizoni says. “I'm an anarchist and an artist. I don't have to explain that. I can just put the emotion in and hope that it can be used as a tool, to be comforting or inspiring for people.”
As their third LP, Hinterlands is notably fuller, bigger-feeling than past work; brimming with kaleidoscopic guitar lines, bubbling synth textures, and an orchestral radiance that often registers as more than just two people. They bring up biomimicry — learning from and adapting alongside nature — as a formative notion. “When we’re talking about mimicry, it is also like projecting yourself as being larger in a certain way, in a sonic sense, sounding like a full band, but also as people, interconnected with a broader world,” says Flanagan. “This record is us letting go a little bit as well, giving ourselves the freedom to just write and see what happens, to let the music grow naturally.” Ardizoni adds, “We try to utilize what’s right in front of us, just being in an urban environment and making do with what's there in order to continue to foster that connection we have to the natural world.”
Ardizoni and Scott Tenefrancia shot the images that appear within the droplets of the LP’s artwork on a trip to Yosemite and the Inyo National Forest; Flanagan later magnified the scenes through the water with macro photography, using the droplets as a series of lenses. The striking visual serves as a fitting metaphor for music that straddles the organic and the digital — a collection of auditory microcosms developed through imaginative fusion.
It begins in the languid heat of “Sun Dogs”, which nods to the coastal sway of Haruomi Hosono's Pacific album and Paradise View soundtrack with washes of keys, horns, and strings. “Sanibel” is pure shoreline bliss, named after the Florida island a young Ardizoni would visit, growing up on the nearby Cape Coral Island (“my first real experiences as a human exploring nature”). “Farewell, Little Island” borrows its title from the 1987 short animated film directed by Sándor Reisenbüchler, which depicts the drowning of a village by modern technology. The track’s buoyant, spiraling guitar samples, their first time exploring the effect, reminded them of the film’s paper-cut animation and of how the story balances serene splendor with tragedy.
“Dragline Silk” conjures a curious trip. Built on a bed of ascending synth and guitar chords bathed in spring reverb (stemming from their shared love for Jessica Pratt’s latest album) and named after the natural phenomenon of spiders that use static electricity to sail through the atmosphere, the track soars with grandeur. The Hinterland suite is the album’s centerpiece, three tracks traversing wide hilltop terrain, with flute and guitar playfully surveying the scene (“Hinterland I”) before more contemplative strums and astral synth and woodwinds take hold (“Hinterland II” and “III”).
Hinterlands’ sequencing takes the listener from sea to mountains to somewhere more abstract and fantastical; late highlight “Under the Oak” possesses an otherworldly calm on warbled keys, followed by “Bronze Age”, even more subdued. “Valley of Blue” ends the movement in melancholy, overlooking a blue flower field with swells of synthetic strings and oboe in the style of Final Fantasy (Ardizoni originally called it “Memory of a Chocobo”). These traces of sadness permeate the otherwise effervescent collection, reminders that, behind the wonder, lies often profound worry (after all, Sanibel Island was nearly wiped out in 2022). Green-House makes sense of these feelings through their art, with genuine tenderness and refreshing conviction.
Between their early-'70s Epic Records run and name change to Anglo Saxon Brown for Atlantic in 1976, Richmond, Virginia's Ujima tracked an unreleased album of modern soul emotion sensors. Shelved for five decades, Numero has unearthed these recordings, pairing infectious floor filler "Maybe" with mid-tempo ballad "All I Want Is You." Pre-order: Release date is March 20th - Orders will begin shipping in late February
Following a string of successful Blacksploitation soundtracks (Shaft In Africa, Brother on the Run) uber producer/arranger/maestro Johnny Pate bankrolled a one-off session to combat the overwhelming pessimism seeping into the American experiment. "Go For It" combines disco hustle and Pate's signature strings while the self-titled flip employees synth squiggles and acrostics for dance floor dominance.
Morphing between the sensory and the suppressed, Radwan Ghazi Moumneh and Frédéric D. Oberland’s debut album summons a poetic musical proclamation of transfigured reality and social amnesia. These seven tracks evolved collaboratively over two years, beginning as a series of duets that Moumneh instigated at Montréal’s Hotel2Tango studio in summer 2023. The Arabic title of Eternal Life No End translates more literally as "A dark, cursed night, like the seekers themselves" and the album is an outcry amidst the oceans of injustice flooding the SWANA region, haunting the lives and visions of vast populations.
Like Dante and Virgil in Dante’s Inferno, Oberland and Moumneh’s compositions chart an emotional vortex, as dream-time seeps into trancelike percussion and hypnotic melodies, channeling collective urgencies that ripple through the currents of Radwan’s voice and Arabic lyrics. Oberland’s passages of saxophone and clarineau evoke shamanic exhortations of evil, while Moumneh’s buzuk strums and swarms, often through electronic processing, with tempestuous mourning about unfolding tragedies. An array of instrumentation fleshes out the wider soundscapes: daf (a Middle Eastern frame drum) and bongos, a modified electric rababa, shuddering bass and other synthetic filigree from Oberland’s Buchla and Deckard's Dream synths.
"It's a healing process in a way," says Oberland about the work. "Since the genocide started, I’d had a complete artistic block and the inability to articulate what people are living through" explains Moumneh, who ultimately packed his instruments and gear and flew to Paris in the summer of 2024 to work on the album in earnest with his long-standing friend. The two had collaborated on multiple previous occasions, with Oberland’s primary group Oiseaux-Tempête, and through Moumneh's work as Jerusalem In My Heart and as a producer/engineer on various other projects. Eternal Life No End builds on their abiding allyship as Oberland and Moumneh navigate energies and emotional shifts in newfound ways, merging their sensibilities and uncovering deeper resonances. “We worked day and night together and made clear decisions collectively” states Oberland, who nonetheless also took the lead in positioning Moumneh’s voice to shine through these compositions—there is singing on four of the album’s seven tracks. The duo played reverse roles of a sort and ventured new creative processes, as Moumneh openly took direction from Oberland, setting aside his usual lead-producer role as steward of Jerusalem In My Heart.
"Squeal of Swine" and "Dagger Eyes" open the album with dual gut punch, as hand percussion, low end synth tones, and ricocheting buzuk and rababa set the stage for Moumneh’s keening Arabic singing, reflecting a sea of sickness currently drowning the state of humanity. On the instrumental track "A Dream That Never Arrived", a lo-fi dancehall-inflected beat anchors otherworldly melodic lines set against electroacoustic sound design in spatio-temporal displacement. Eternal Life No End is accompanied by an audio-visual essay for the electronic (and vocal) song "The Serpent", assembled by Oberland and shot on Super 8mm camera in Montréal, Paris and Beirut, including footage of Gaza protests in Paris, and of the Frequent Defect event at Irtijal Festival’s 25th anniversary edition in Beirut. Lebanese graphic designer, printmaker, and calligrapher Farah Fayyad provides talisman-like artwork of entwined serpents, similarly inspired by this centerpiece album track.
Emeralds, the sophomore long player from Parlor Greens, finds the trio serving up a beautifully curated sampler of what funky organ music can be. On Parlor Greens’ debut LP In Green We Dream, they announced their existence boldly to the welcoming arms of funky instrumental fans around the world. Now, two years later, they’re back to up the ante. Three true masters of their respective crafts: Tim Carman (Canyon Lights, formerly of GA-20) on drums, Jimmy James (True Loves) on guitar, and Adam Scone (Scone Cash Players, The Sugarman 3) on organ. Seasoned and soulful pros coming together to make infectiously funky instrumental jams.
Parlor Greens are truly in top form: tour tight and more confident than ever in who they are and where they’re going. The album’s opener, “Eat Your Greens,” kicks the doors off with a Charles Earland-inspired four on the floor beat, with Jimmy and Scone driving the tune down the tracks like an overloaded freight train, it simply cannot be stopped. On “Red Dog,” the group channels the absolute heaviest shade of early R&B with Jimmy’s crunchy guitar paving the way for both he and Scone to take scorching solos. “Lion’s Mane” shows a slightly more sophisticated side of the trio, with nods to one of Scone’s organ mentors, the incomparable Dr. Lonnie Smith. Not to be outdone by his bandmates, Tim Carman shows off why he plays the best shuffle this side of the Mississippi on “Letter To Brother Ben,” a gospel-tinged shuffler.
And while the results are stronger than ever, the mood of this second cooking session was much different. The first time these three met in Loveland at Colemine’s Portage Lounge studio was marked by a certain freshness. It was new, it was the first time they had all played together. It was exciting, it was unknown territory. The session for Emeralds weighed much heavier on all three members. All three dealing with personal tragedies in their individual lives, the session truly served as a genuine moment of joy for the group. Just three talented musicians, writing and playing music now as friends in a familiar environment. No moment is the weight of the session more obvious than with the album’s closer, “Queen Of My Heart,” a tune Jimmy wrote for his mother shortly after she passed away.
So with a heavy and soulful heart, Colemine Records is beyond proud to present the sophomore effort from three maestros. Parlor Greens presents…Emer
This Record Store Day 2026, Strut proudly presents Nuclear War, a powerful collaboration between UK collective The Heliocentrics, Sun Ra Arkestra legends Marshall Allen and Knoel Scott, and vocalist Bilal - issued on limited-edition “hazardous” orange and yellow vinyl.
The Nuclear War recordings stem from a rare session at Malcolm Catto’s Quatermass Sound Lab in January 2015. The group had assembled in London to rehearse for their performance at Gilles Peterson’s Worldwide Awards, where Allen received the Lifetime Achievement Award and Catto the John Peel Award. With The Heliocentrics’ trademark raw, psychedelic energy as the backbone, the ensemble captured a series of reimagined Sun Ra classics in a spontaneous, one-off studio moment, and these tapes that have remained unheard in Catto’s archive until now.
The 4-track EP features a sinuous take on Ronnie Boykins’ ‘Angels And Demons At Play’ , originally recorded in 1960, a strident version of ‘Where Pathways Meet’ which was originally created for the much- loved Sun Ra Lanquidity album in 1978, and a dense and deep re- work of 1972’s ‘Astro Black’ featuring Bilal’s incredible otherworldly vocals. The title track ‘Nuclear War’ is re-worked into a cavernous groove featuring Heliocentrics vocalist Barbora Patkova.
'Dear Children of Our Children, I Knew: Epilogue' is a new EP by Alabaster DePlume, recorded during the middle of his March 2025 US tour. DePlume had been playing shows with bassist Shahzad Ismaily and drummer Tcheser Holmes, performing music from his critically acclaimed album 'A Blade Because A Blade Is Whole' (released March 2025). The trio’s onstage rapport was so immediate and strong that, on an off day in Brooklyn, DePlume chose to capture that connection, recording this collection of instrumental pieces shaped by the experience of performing, sharing, and improvising off the music of A Blade for audiences across the US.
DePlume says: “Meeting with you all at the shows I sensed that you felt voiceless, on this ethical issue that also spelled out what we’re seeing today, in the form of ICE. That experience with you is etched into me, like graffiti or a poster on the wall. It’s my job to deliver your voice, and that’s what this record is. And to take action. That urgency compelled me to record then. And now here we are. As we said, this world is awakening to the reality it was already living.”
Dear Children serves as an epilogue to A Blade Because A Blade Is Whole, and as a companion bookend with his October 2024 EP 'Cremisan: Prologue to A Blade'.
As with almost everything that DePlume has put forth in recent years, the connection of all these works to Palestine is deep. The Cremisan EP itself was recorded in Palestine. Dear Children incorporates field recordings and samples of children playing and of normal life in the West Bank, and its cover art depicts wheatpaste posters of a drawing made by a 13-year-old boy from Gaza (used with permission). The inscription on the cover art says, in Arabic, “Dedicated to the mother of the martyr/witness Obaida Ahmed al-Qiram. May you rest in peace. From your student, the artist, Hasan Jawad Abudayyeh.”
On Interview with a Cat, Marcel Broodthaers turns a deadpan Q&A with a meowing interlocutor into a razor‑sharp miniature of conceptual art: a five‑minute 1970 audio piece where questions about painting, markets and museums collapse into one insistent “miaow.” ** Edition of 150 ** This limited 12" vinyl edition of Interview with a Cat restores one of the most mischievous and incisive works in Marcel Broodthaers’ oeuvre to its properly tactile form: a short audio recording cut into a disc, complete with a fold‑out insert carrying the English translation and transcript. Originally recorded in 1970 at his self‑invented Musée d’Art Moderne, Département des Aigles in Düsseldorf, the piece stages a seemingly absurd scenario. Broodthaers, in the role of earnest interviewer, poses serious questions about “new tendencies and trends in contemporary art” to a cat. The cat responds only with meows. What sounds, at first, merely hilarious quickly reveals itself as conceptually to the point: as the artist asks if a painting is “good,” whether it aligns with the latest shift from conceptual art to a “new kind of figuration,” whether it risks becoming a new academicism, the cat’s single, invariable language becomes the perfect mirror for an art world drowning in discourse and market speculation. Formally, the work is disarmingly simple: a voice, a cat, the faint resonance of the museum environment, five minutes of call and response. Yet this minimal setup opens onto many of Broodthaers’ core preoccupations. The Musée d’Art Moderne itself was a fictional institution that he founded and installed in real spaces, a long‑running project in which eagles, labels, vitrines and bureaucratic trappings were used to probe how museums create authority, value and meaning. Placing the “interview” there doubles the satire. The artist’s questions about innovation, markets, collectors and the fate of previous artworks are exactly the questions that haunt any institutional moment of aesthetic change. The cat’s refusal to answer in human language turns every enquiry into an echo chamber of anxiety. When Broodthaers finally arrives at the deadpan injunction to “close the Museums!” and plays with the Magritte‑echoing refrain “This is a pipe / This is not a pipe,” the piece tips fully into a poetic loop where representation, language and reality chase each other in circles, while the cat keeps on meowing. The vinyl edition underscores the work’s status as both artwork and object. To “own” Interview with a Cat is to own a record of a conversation that never resolves, a “document” that simultaneously mocks and inhabits the documentary mode. The fold‑out translation and transcript extend Broodthaers’ interest in the printed word as a material surface, where typography and layout participate in the performance of meaning and its breakdown. Listening on headphones or through speakers, one hears not only a relic of 1970s conceptualism, but a work whose humour and scepticism feel uncannily current in an era where artistic value is still framed by markets, labels and increasingly opaque discourse. Born in 1924, Marcel Broodthaers began as a poet and remained one even after he “became an artist” at the end of 1963, following two decades of near‑poverty and marginal literary activity. Briefly associated with surrealism and the post‑war “surréalisme‑révolutionnaire” milieu, he turned to making objects by literally embedding unsold copies of his poetry book in plaster, a gesture that fused language, sculpture and self‑irony. In the twelve years that followed, until his death in 1976, he built a dense, elusive and profoundly influential body of work embracing poetry, books, film, photography, slides, drawings, painting and sculpture. Again and again he tested how words and images interact, how rhetoric shapes our understanding of art, and how institutions script what can be seen and said. Interview with a Cat condenses many of these themes into a compact, accessible form - a tiny masterpiece of conceptual deadpan in which the most eloquent critical position belongs, quite literally, to the animal who refuses to explain.
On Live 1979/80 + Rehearsal 1978, SODS are caught mid‑mutation: from Copenhagen’s first feral punk band to the darker, more avant‑garde force that would soon become Sort Sol, in a barrage of raw tapes, sweat and beautiful mistakes. Formed in Copenhagen in 1977, SODS have long been mythologised as Denmark’s first true punk band, but myth usually arrives without tapes. Live 1979/80 + Rehearsal 1978 finally drags that legend back to the concrete floor, offering a sequence of recordings that follow the group from its earliest, ultra‑raw convulsions to the first tremors of transformation into Sort Sol. You can hear how fast things move. In autumn 1978 they record their debut album Minutes to Go, a jagged, adrenal burst that quickly becomes a cornerstone of punk’s primal wave in Scandinavia. By 1980, with the second album Under en Sort Sol, the music is already turning more sombre, stranger at the edges, letting in shadows and a whiff of the avant‑garde. This new release threads those moments together, not as a tidy history lesson but as a sequence of volatile, imperfect performances, all fraying tape hiss and too‑loud PAs. The bulk of the collection is built around live shows from 1979 and 1980, spread across sides A, B and C in strict chronological order. These are rough, spirited performances of pieces mostly drawn from Minutes to Go and Under en Sort Sol, captured in the small Danish venues where SODS’ reputation was forged one flailing body at a time. Songs that on the studio records already sounded urgent here become even more breathless and unhinged: tempos pushed a notch too fast, vocals half‑barked, guitars skidding in and out of tune. The setlists trace the band’s rapid evolution, with the taut, riff‑driven blasts of the early material rubbing shoulders with tracks where atmosphere, dissonance and negative space start to matter as much as attack. Slotted among these is a single piece from Daggers and Guitars - the album that would not surface until 1983 as the first release under the Sort Sol name - heard here in its embryonic, punk‑era incarnation. There is also the “fantastic” outlier “Breathtaking Effect,” a song that, for unfathomable reasons, never found its way onto any original release. In this context it sounds like a missing hinge: catchy yet crooked, a hint of what SODS could have become in alternate timelines. If the live material shows a band learning to stretch inside the constraints of punk, side D rewinds to the moment before all of that solidifies. The final side is an ultra‑raw document of a high‑energy rehearsal from around the spring of 1978, recorded with no intention of polish. The fidelity is primitive, but that’s precisely its power. Here SODS are still figuring out how to play together, hammering at songs that are more attitude than arrangement, yet the chemistry is unmistakable: drums tumbling forward, bass lines trying to hold the floor, guitars sawing at the same two or three chords until they catch fire. It’s punk not as style but as bodily fact, a band using whatever gear and space they can find to force an entirely new noise into existence. Listening back from the vantage point of Sort Sol’s later acclaim, the rehearsal tape feels like the buried root system - gnarled, unpretty, essential. Across its four sides, Live 1979/80 + Rehearsal 1978 works as both archival excavation and still‑living shock. It documents the progression of SODS from feral pioneers to a group already leaning into darker, more idiosyncratic territory, but it never lets that story settle into tidy arcs. Instead, it preserves the grain of moment-to-moment decisions: the singer pushing a phrase too far, the band falling out of sync and clawing its way back, the electricity in a room when an unknown song hits hard enough to turn heads away from the bar. For listeners who came to Sort Sol through their later, more refined work, these tapes offer the jolt of origin, the sound of a band still naming itself through volume and velocity. For everyone else, they’re a reminder that punk’s foundational wave was not only written on records, but in nights like these and rehearsals like that - fleeting, volatile, and, decades later, still stubbornly alive on tape.
Mario de Vega - El Llamado (Der Aufruf) (LP) A whistle is one of the oldest forms of long-distance communication. A summons. A signal thrown across space, hoping for a reply. Mario de Vega takes that elemental premise and stretches it to global proportions. El Llamado (Der Aufruf) began as a performative work for solo or multiple voices, commissioned by the Maison des Arts Georges & Claude Pompidou in 2020. The raw material: whistles sourced from seventeen countries - Austria, Germany, Italy, China, Spain, Greece, Hong Kong, Portugal, France, India, Mexico, the United States, Poland, the Czech Republic, Russia, Japan, Nepal. Each instrument carries within it a different pitch, a different cultural memory of the human breath shaped into signal. On this fixed LP arrangement, de Vega layers these dispersed voices into a composition of austere and uncanny precision, accompanied by an outdoor activation performed by Yann Leguay at Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, France. The open air enters the record without warning - a sudden rupture of context that clarifies everything. Born in Mexico City in 1979 and working between Berlin and Mexico, de Vega has long explored the limits of sound as political and physical event - using frequencies that induce visceral reactions, making the negotiating process with institutions an integral part of the work. Here the approach is stripped back to something almost naked: breath, wind, the ancient act of calling out across a distance. The result is concentrated and disquieting, a study in how a universal gesture fractures into dozens of cultural particulars. Limited edition of 250 copies.
On Harmograph, Matteo Scaioli turns self-built synths and live tablas into a single breathing organism, stretching 35 minutes of big-room ambience into shifting patterns where pulse, overtones and hallucinated folk-memories slowly braid together. BRA (Big Room Ambient) opens its catalogue with a statement of intent. Harmograph by Matteo Scaioli presents the label’s ethos in concentrated form: ambient and experimental music conceived not as background wash, but as a large, resonant field where electronics and distant musical traditions interact on equal terms. Over just past half an hour, Scaioli builds a sonic environment that feels expansive enough to fill space - physical or internal - yet detailed enough to reward close, headphone-level attention. It is “big room” not because it is loud, but because it imagines a room whose walls keep receding the more you listen. At the core of the album lies a distinctive instrumentation. Scaioli works with self-built synthesizers and experimental electronics, machines whose quirks and instabilities are embraced rather than ironed out, and sets them against the hand-played complexity of tablas. The result is a soundworld where oscillators and drum skins seem to learn from each other. Long, hovering tones, subtly detuned pads and faintly granular textures form an ever-shifting backdrop, while the tablas articulate intricate rhythmic cycles that move between clearly marked patterns and more fluid, wave-like motion. Sometimes the electronics lead, sketching a harmonic or textural horizon for the percussion to illuminate from within; elsewhere the drums pull the music forward, their tactile presence giving the drifting synths a spine. Across its 35-plus minutes, Harmograph unfolds less as a suite of discrete tracks than as a continuous journey through related states. Motifs recur, but they do so in altered light - a phrase returns with different filtering, a rhythmic figure reappears at another tempo or density, a previously submerged detail moves to the centre. The balance between structure and improvisation is finely judged. Underneath, there is a clear sense of design: overarching rises and falls in intensity, carefully staged transitions, long arcs of harmonic colour. Within that frame, Scaioli allows himself to respond in the moment - stretching a tabla phrase when the groove demands it, letting a synth drone decay into unexpected overtones, following small accidents that open up new directions. As an opening salvo for BRA, Harmograph sets a high bar and a clear trajectory. It points toward “unexplored territories of contemporary sound” not by chasing novelty for its own sake, but by listening closely to how older rhythmic languages and hand‑built electronics can co-exist without one reducing the other to ornament. The album’s hypnotic, deeply organic feel comes from that refusal to choose: it is neither a straight fusion record nor a pure electronic abstraction, but a meeting ground where lineages intersect and something quietly new comes into focus. For listeners, it offers a space to inhabit rather than a problem to solve - a patient, evolving landscape that invites you to stay long enough to notice how much is moving beneath its surface.
dj echotree arrives on ZitStill with a singular artefact shaped by excavation and instinct. Built from fragments of found footage, spoken word and drifting jazz, the record unfolds as a seamless collage — guided by the steady pulse of the MPC and a commitment to human touch over polish. Emerging from noisy experiments and captured in a single twenty-four-hour immersion, the album carries the scent of spiritual jazz in the lineage of Sun Ra, grounded in lo-fi textures and presence. What remains is the lone preserved take: raw, immediate, and uncorrected. Pressed on one side only, the reverse is left blank save for a handwritten note from the artist — an intentional space that frames absence as part of the work. The sleeve artwork, assembled from roadside magazine cutouts, quietly reconfigures discarded images into something tactile and open-ended. This is less a product than an offering: a textured, gapless transmission best absorbed whole.
With centuries of history, traditional instruments carry physical vibrations shaped by human breath and touch. In contrast, electronic music generates vibrations through inorganic principles such as electrical signals and circuits. When the subtle tremors of traditional instruments resonate with the intricate tones of electronic sounds in an improvised dialogue, performers from distinct realms expand each other’s languages, creating a new sensory experience.
The project album Ancient Moment marks the first collaboration between the Korean contemporary music ensemble WhatWhy Art and the Seoul underground electronic music collective vurt.. It is a record of a free journey where two different worlds collide and merge, breaking cultural boundaries and dismantling aesthetic hierarchies.
In Part 1 of the album, you will hear boundless performances by daegeum player Hong Yoo with electronic musician Unjin, and gayageum player Hwayoung Lee with ambient duo Hosoo.
The recording was done in an improvised one-take format at STUDIO Y in Seoul, and Giuseppe Tillieci mastering enhanced the sonic quality.
The digital release will be available on vurt.’s Bandcamp on August 31, 2025, followed by an LP release in Europe and Asia in December.
With their self-titled release on Titrate Records, Post Coma presents two twenty-minute passages shaped by a winter improvisation. What surfaces is a sense of detachment — at times even dissociation — treating the improvisation as a shared descent into the inner psyche. Listening as much to each other as to the remnants of their own decisions, the music emerges as a kind of cognitive experiment — a document of mutual attunement and the debris that gathers in its wake. The result lies suspended between motion and conclusion, leaving space for what lingers beyond.
Several years after the release of ‘Metamorphosis’ (with Sid Hille), Multicast Dynamics (Samuel van Dijk) reemerges on Astral Industries with ‘Circles’ - an enchanting two-part work venturing into deep unconscious realms. Sonic landscapes unfold in a sequence of hidden spaces and intimate revelations, featuring detailed sound design and rich thematic content. Circle One initiates the process, opening gently with glassy drones and the patter of distant voices. A faint light shimmers through swirling pools of liquid memories and melting forms. The atmosphere builds, and everything is engulfed in the act of transfiguration. Passing through the threshold, Circle Two traverses further into cavernous territories. Boundless drifting soon becomes a gravitational pull toward something deeper. Submitted to the powerful undercurrent, incoming primordial pulsations signal a quest that reaches its fated culmination. Perhaps the revelation of something long-lost, entering the Circle eludes to that which on the surface remains hidden, yet its rediscovery inevitable.
Recorded in 1983 by roots reggae’s young prodigy Hugh Mundell and quietly released around 1987, the long‑hard‑to‑find hidden gem Arise finally returns in an official remastered edition.
RSD exclusive, fully licensed ! Never reissued and long lost, this UK dub foundation album Addis Rockers is the brainchild of Tony Addis from the legendary London studio “Addis Ababa.” This hidden gem helped define dub music in the 1980s. Remastered and featuring the original cover design.