NEW ARRIVALS

Bruno Berle is a singer, songwriter, producer, multi-instrumentalist and figurehead of a contemporary Brazilian music movement. With a quiet mastery of songwriting and an astonishing voice, his music has won hearts around the world. Since the release of his debut album No Reino Dos Afetos (2022), Berle has performed across the UK, Europe, Japan, South Korea, and China, only leaving his home country for the first time in 2023. Shaped by these journeys, Berle’s third studio album, Sem Fronteiras (Without Borders), reflects a utopian vision of a unified world. Recorded across London, São Paulo, Minas Gerais, Germany, and Maceió, the album–co-produced alongside his longstanding musical partner Batata Boy–is the most expansive canvas Berle has worked on to date. Shot through with the imagery that has always animated his songwriting: open skies, morning light, vivid colours and the magic of human connection, Berle’s carefully crafted poetics and warm, delicate instrumentation drive this vivid body of work. “I came from nothing”–Berle doesn’t take his rise to global prominence for granted. Born to a working class family from Brazil’s northeastern Alagoas state, one of Brazil’s most economically deprived, Bruno moved frequently in his youth to follow any job opportunities his parents could find, before eventually settling in the coastal capital of Maceió. “I used to travel to Caruaru, Santa Cruz, Recife, Garanhuns, Arapiraca, which I loved and feel it made me ready to be in this rhythm i’, but at the same time I think not having friends from childhood and being in constant change made me a little numb to the constant upheaval”. On Sem Fronteiras, there is a similar duality at play. The album celebrates the collective joy and human connection that live touring brings, but it also sits with the darker realities of crossing borders. While music moves more freely around the world than ever before, our bodies are not granted the same privilege. Though he’s never lacked self-belief, Berle recognises that talent alone doesn’t guarantee opportunity. “Before my second album [No Reino Dos Afetos 2] everything I had ever recorded was made with the help and kindness of people who believed in my ability”. Determined to pay that kindness forward and help others from the sharp end of Brazil’s desperately unequal society, Berle produced and featured on the recent self-titled albums by his northeast Brazilian compatriots, Nyron Higor and Phylipe Nunes Araújo (both 2025), helping propel both onto the international stage. In turn, following the successes of Nyron & Phylipe’s albums alongside his own, Bruno finds himself at the forefront of a thriving community of artists now based in São Paulo, but primarily originating from northeastern states like Alagoas and Pernambuco. Much like the famed Clube Da Esquina movement that spawned in 1970’s Minas Gerais, they operate with a free-exchange of ideas, writing songs with and for each other, performing on each other’s albums and on the live circuit together. Lead single ‘Manha’ flows from this ethos. It was written by Berle’s friend and fellow Alagoan João Menezes (writer of ‘Ate Meu Violao’ and ‘Te Amar Eterno’ from Bruno’s previous albums) and Marvin Viera, and originally recorded on their 2018 album Areia e Mar. Sem Fronteiras opens with ‘Você Já Sabe Que Eu Te Amo’, just six beats of one nylon guitar chord ring out before changing key, paving the way for the gentle strike of fender rhodes and the arresting call & response duet between Berle and Higor. On ‘Amor Inteiro’, the album reaches a celebratory burst of catharsis, with the punch-packing drums of Pedro Lacerda and Nina Maia’s joyous backing vocals encapsulating the live energy that Berle and his band bring to the stage. With the abundant talents of this musical community at its heart, Sem Fronteiras releases 10th July 2026 via Far Out Recordings, supported by a summer tour across Europe. Bruno Berle will perform in a four-piece band alongside Nyron Higor, Phylipe Nunes, and Batata Boy, culminating in an appearance at Roskilde festival, Berle’s biggest live show to date. He’ll continue to carry a hopeful vision of a world where artists and musicians can move as freely as their music flows.

Skyjack — the borderless five piece band spread across South Africa and Switzerland — announce their fourth studio album, Let The Sky Open Under Your Feet, out 3rd July. Recorded in December 2025 at a secluded studio outside Stellenbosch, South Africa, the album captures the vibrant live energy of the band at its most expansive — drawing together free improvisation, South African jazz traditions, chamber music, kinetic groove, and ecstatic collective interplay into a singular body of work. “This record is a very articulate representation of our sound, having grown deep roots into the earth with high branches reaching upward and outward”, says bassist Shane Cooper. “My desire is always to create sonic universes that can envelope the listener.” The album’s title comes from a line in a poem by the 13th-century Persian poet Rumi, reflecting the music’s balance between groundedness and transcendence. Here, Skyjack move fluidly between meditative improvisation and lush orchestration across twelve tracks of free-spirited, cosmic journeying. Inspired both by the cultural traditions and natural environments of South Africa, Let The Sky Open Under Your Feet is a testament to the band’s intuitive connection and innate musical curiosity. It arrives just over a year after Light Cycle (2024), a short gap that reflects the momentum built on tour. After exchanging sketches remotely across two continents, the band reunited in Johannesburg in late 2025, workshopped the new material onstage across South Africa, and then headed directly into the studio, where much of the album was recorded live in first takes — preserving the looseness and unpredictability central to Skyjack’s sound. Comprised of Kyle Shepherd (piano), Shane Cooper (bass), Jonno Sweetman (drums), Andreas Tschopp (trombone), and Marc Stucki (saxophones), Skyjack first formed in Cape Town in 2013 during a fertile moment in South African jazz, as a new generation of musicians pushed against rigid genre definitions and opened the music outward toward broader sonic possibilities. Over the past decade, the band has built a singular sound drawing equally on South African groove traditions and European improvisation. Individually, the members move between jazz, electronic music, film scoring, rock, hip-hop and experimental composition, with collaborations spanning artists including William Parker, Lionel Loueke, Zim Ngqawana, Ben LaMar Gay, Jorge Rossy, Shabaka Hutchings, William Kentridge, Makaya McCraven and Sylvie Courvoisier. Since their self-titled debut in 2015, followed by The Hunter (2019) and Light Cycle (2024), the group has developed a reputation for immersive live performances and music that continuously reshapes itself in motion — rooted in what they describe as “warm menacing African grooves,” while refusing fixed stylistic borders.

The fourth and final volume in the African Dub All-Mighty series was originally released in 1979, and like the previous three discs it features rhythm tracks laid down by such famous session men as Sly Dunbar, Robbie Shakespeare, Lloyd Parks, and Franklin "Bubblers" Waul, most of whom were already known as members of the Revolutionaries and the We the People band, but who recorded at Joe Gibbs' studio as the Professionals. Errol Thompson ran the board for all four collections of dub mixes, and offers an interesting and adventurous approach. Some of these mixes are two or three times removed from the vocal tracks that were originally released -- "Iron Gate," for example, is a dub mix of a recut (by Althea & Donna) of the Heptones' proto-slack rocksteady classic "Fattie Fattie"; "Fashion One" is a remix of Dennis Brown's remake of Alton Ellis' 1960s classic "Girl I've Got a Date." Everything here is worth a listen, recommended overall. - Rick Anderson

Jazz-fusion, disco-funk, Latin jazz and batucada rhythms get the Filipino treatment onAfter Midnight, the sublime second album from keyboardist Boy Katindig. Originally released in 1980, After Midnight draws heavy influence from soul and funk contemporaries in the US as well as Latin America, in particular the famed Brazilian percussionist Paulinho da Costa. It’s a testament to his musical prowess that Katindig weaves effortlessly between styles and tempos. His reverence for Paulinho da Costa extends far, with covers of several songs from the latter’s 1979 Happy People album. This includes slow-burner ‘Déjà Vu’ written by Isaac Hayes originally for Dionne Warwick; on the Filipino instrumental version, local legends Jun Regalado and Roger Herrera (from Regalado’s ‘Pinoy Funk’ single) are reunited on drums and bass respectively. But Katindig’s original compositions hold just as much weight and unique personality: title track ‘After Midnight’ opens with a sultry funk serenade reminiscent of The Isley Brothers, and quickly transforms into a catchy, blistering, saxophone chorus that brims with swagger. Hidden B-side gem ‘Got The Need’ is an uptempo tribute to batucada that would not be out of place in a jazzy house set, and boasts increasingly elaborate and psychedelic solos from Katindig on keys and Ben Concepcion on soprano sax. Meanwhile, ‘Love Till the End of Time’ is a masterclass in instrumental disco funk, penned by the prolific Greg Phillanganes who at that same time was writing for many of the greats including Chaka Khan, George Benson, Stevie Wonder, The Jacksons and Cheryl Lynn. This album is lovingly reissued by Sama Sama Records, a boutique label from DJ and collector Norsicaa, who ran the esteemed Soundway Records for 8 years and released the compilation Ayo Ke Disco in late 2024.

The Ethio Jazz album by Mulatu Astatqé is a jewel of the modern Ethiopian music and a mythical album, since the beginning of Ethiopian music reissues. An incredibly groovy Ethiopian record, originally from 1969-1972. Amazing orchestral 'Ethio-groove' filled with US soul, jazz, sometimes Latin and the deepest Eastern rhythms, even including some great nasty and dirty fuzz guitars. A true gem of Ethiopian modern instrumental music, which illustrates perfectly this symbiosis of strong rhythms and quality arrangements of subtle yet deep Ethiopian melodies. A must for all '60s/'70s collectors! In the Ethiopian musical landscape, Mulatu Astatke is a unique musician, composer, arranger. His real contribution consists in his action for instrumental music, in a country where orchestral traditions doesn't exist. For the last 30 years, he is the leading head of the Ethiopian musical scene. First vinyl reissue and definitely one of the most important Ethiopian music albums.

Éthiopiques is back! Armenian-born composer, arranger and instructor Nerses Nalbandian was the key pioneer of modern Ethiopian music. He laid the foundations for « Swinging Addis » and for ethio-jazz. This volume revives Nalbandian’s forgotten legacy, recorded live by the Either/Orchestra & Ethiopian Guests. “Ethiopian jazzmen are the best musicians that we have seen so far in Africa. They really are promising handlers of jazz instruments.” Wilbur De Paris (1959, after a concert in Addis Ababa) አዲስ፡ዘመን። Addis zèmèn A new era. The time is the mid-1950s and early 1960s, just before "Swinging Addis" bloomed – or rather boomed – onto the scene. Brass instruments are still dominant, but the advent of the electric guitar, and the very first electronic organs, are just around the corner. Rock’n'Roll, R’n’B, Soul and the Twist have not yet barged their way in. Addis Ababa is steeped in the big band atmosphere of the post-war era, with Glenn Miller's In the Mood as its world-wide theme song, neck and neck with the Latin craze that was in vogue at the same period. Life has become enjoyable once again, with the return of peace after the terrible Italian Fascist invasion of Ethiopia (1935-1941). The redeployment of modern music is part and parcel of the postwar reconstruction. Addis zèmèn – a new era – is the watchword of the postwar period, just as it was all across war-torn Europe. The generation who were the young parents of baby boomers were the first to enjoy this musical renaissance, before the baby boomers themselves took over and forever super-charged the soundtrack of the final days of imperial reign. Music is Ethiopia's most popular art form, and very often serves as the best barometer for the upsurge of energy that is critical for reconstruction. Whether it be jazz in Saint-Germain-des-Prés or the zazous who revolutionised both jazz and French chanson after the Libération, be it Madrid's post-Franco Movida, or Dada, the Surrealists and les années folles that followed World War I, the periods just after mourning and hardship always give rise to brighter and more tuneful tomorrows. Addis Ababa, as the country's capital, and the epicentre of change, was no exception to this vital rule. Two generations of Nalbandian musicians Nersès Nalbandian belonged to a family of Armenian exiles, who had moved to Ethiopia in the mid-1920s. The uncle Kevork arrived along with the fabled "Arba Lidjotch", the "40 Kids", young Armenian orphans and musicians that the Ras Tafari had recruited when he visited Jerusalem in 1924, intending to turn their brass band into the official imperial band. If Kevork Nalbandian was the one who first opened the way of modernism, pushing innovation so far as to invent musical theatre, it was his nephew Nersès who would go on to become, from the 1940s and until his death in 1977, a pivotal figure of modern Ethiopian music and of the heights it. Going all the way back to the 1950s. Nothing less. And it is Nersès who is largely to thank for the brassy colours that so greatly contributed to the international renown of Ethiopian groove. While the younger generations today venture timidly into the genealogy of their country's modern music, often losing their way amidst a distinctly xenophobic historiographical complacency, many survivors of the imperial period are still around to bear witness and pay tribute to the essential role that "Moussié Nersès" played in the rise of Abyssinia's musical modernity. Given the year of his birth (15 March 1915), no one knows for sure if Nersès Nalbandian was born in Aintab, today Gaziantep (Turkiye/former Ottoman Empire) or on the other side of the border in Alep, Syria... What is certain is that his family, like the entire Armenian community, was amongst the victims of the genocide perpetrated by the Turks. Alep, the place of safety – today in ruins. Before Nersès then, there was uncle Kevork (1887-1963). For a quarter of a century, he was a whirlwind of activity in music teaching and theatrical innovation. Guèbrè Mariam le Gondaré (የጎንደሬ ገብረ ማርያም አጥቶ ማግኘት, 1926 EC=1934) is his most famous creation. This play included "ten Ethiopian songs" — a totally innovative approach. According to his autobiographical notes, preserved by the Nalbandian family, Kevork indicates that he composed some 50 such pieces over the course of his career. This shows just how much he understood, very early on, the critical importance of song as Ethiopia's crowning artistic form. Indeed, for Ethiopian listeners, the most important thing is the lyrics, with all their multifarious mischief, far more than a strong melody, sophisticated arrangements or even an exceptional voice. (This is also why Ethiopians by and large, and beginning with the artists and producers themselves, believed for a long time — and wrongly — that their music could not possibly be exported, and could never win over audiences abroad, who did not speak the country's languages). Last but not least, one of Kevork's major contributions remains composing Ethiopia's first national anthem – with lyrics by Yoftahé Negussié. Nersès Nalbandian moved to Ethiopia at the end of the 1930s, at the behest of his ground-breaking uncle. Proficient in many instruments (pretty much everything but the drums), conductor, choir director, composer, arranger, adapter, creator, piano tuner, purveyor of rented pianos,... he was above all an energetic and influential teacher. From 1946 onwards, thanks to Kevork's connexion, Nersès was appointed musical director of the Addis Ababa Municipality Band. In just a few years, Nersès transformed it into the first truly modern ensemble, thanks to the quality of his teaching, his choice of repertoire, and the sophistication of his arrangements. It was this group that would go on to become the orchestra of the Haile Selassie Theatre shortly after its inauguration in 1955, which was a major celebration of the Emperor's jubilee, marking the 25th anniversary of his on-again-off-again reign. At some point or other in his long career, Nersès Nalbandian had a hand in the creation of just about every institutional band (Municipality Band, Police Orchestra, Imperial Bodyguard Band, Army Band, Yared Music School…), but it was with the Haile Selassie Theatre – today the National Theatre – that his abilities were most on display, up until his death in 1977. To this must be added the development of choral singing in Ethiopia, hitherto unknown, and a sort of secret garden dedicated to the memory of Armenian sacred music, and brought together in two thick, unpublished volumes. Shortly before his death (November 13, 1977), he was appointed to lead the impressive Ethiopian delegation at Festac in Lagos, Nigeria (January-February 1977). His status as a stateless foreigner regularly excluded him from the most senior positions, in spite of the respect he commanded (and commands to this day) from the musicians of his era. Naturally gifted and largely self-taught, Nerses was tirelessly curious about new musical developments, drawing inspiration from the very first imported records, and especially from listening intensely to the musical programmes broadcast over short-wave radio – BBC First. A prolific composer and arranger, he was constantly mindful of formalising and integrating Ethiopian parameters (specific “musical modes”, pentatonic scale, and the dominance of ternary rhythms) into his “modernisation” of the musical culture, rather than trying to over-westernise it. It even seems very probable that Moussié Nerses made a decisive contribution to the development of tighter music-teaching methods, in order to revitalise musical education during this period of prodigious cultural ferment. Flying in the face of all the historiographical and musicological evidence, it is taken as sacrosanct dogma that the four musical modes or chords officially recognised today, the qǝñǝt or qiñit (ቅኝት), are every bit as millennial as Ethiopia itself. It would appear however that some streamlining of these chords actually took place in around 1960. It was only from this time onward that music teaching was structured around these four fundamental musical modes and chords: Ambassel, Bati, Tezeta and Antchi Hoyé. A historical and musical “details” that is, apparently, difficult to swallow, especially if that should honour a foreigner. Modern Ethiopian music has Nersès to thank for many of its standards and, to this day, it is not unusual for the National Radio to broadcast thunderous oldies that bear unmistakable traces of his outrageously groovy touch. Honor and disgrace (A tale of three anthems) The life of an immigrant, not to mention a stateless person, in Ethiopia, is anything but a bed of roses. Beyond the remarkable successes, the immigrant – the fèrendj — has to contend with many humiliations, given how insular, and even passionately xenophobic, Ethiopia's national mindset is. Two-faced finesse, complication elevated to a fine art, the ambiguity of double-entendres, all sorts of petty compromises, bank-shots worthy of karambola billiards, the tyranny of appearances, elegant evasiveness, jovial jesuitry, forced modesty..., Ethiopian Byzantinism can certainly give rise to some strange tragicomedies. The Nalbandians, the uncle and the nephew, are associated with three anthems: two national and one continental – Africa Africa, the official anthem of the Organisation of African Unity. The first Ethiopian national anthem was composed by Kevork Nalbandian, at the request of the Ras Tafari as early as 1925. After the young regent had had the quality of the composition affirmed by the Royal College of Music in London, this anthem “was played for the first time at the coronation of H.M. the King Taffari, at the Sellassié Church (Church of the Trinity), on October 7, 1928”. From then on it accompanied the country's official ceremonies for half a century, until the revolution that overthrew Haile Selassie in 1974. When the revolution came, the new "Red Negus" soon ordered up a new anthem, to mark the change of era and of regime. According to the historic saxophonist and clarinettist Mèrawi Setot, sixty-some proposals were submitted as sealed bids. Fatalitas fatalitatis! It was Nersès Nalbandian, in partnership with Tsegaye Guèbrè-Medhen for the lyrics, who was selected by the jury. This met a flat refusal by the dictator Menguistu Haylè-Maryam, who was resolutely hostile to the idea of patriotic lyricism depending once again upon a foreigner and who, to make matters worse, was yet another Nalbandian… The runner-up that was finally selected proved to be literally unplayable, and its composer, who was also the director of the national school of music (the Yaréd School), had the cheek to ask Nerses Nalbandian to kindly straighten out his utterly unplayable score. Although generally not a stickler about being credited, Nerses required that this request be put in writing before he carried it out. Still more shameful, if possible, was the tragicomedy that was played out in the wings during the opening ceremony of the OAU, the Organisation of African Unity. A continental anthem had been commissioned from Nerses Nalbandian. Africa Africa. Lyrics by Ayaléw Desta. For the inaugural ceremony (May 25, 1963), the Ethiopian authorities did not feel that they could decently put a white conductor up on stage, displaying him in front of an audience of newly decolonised African dignitaries. Nerses was relegated to the wings, conducting the orchestra in profile within sight only of the visible conductor, who was surely hard put to reflect the charisma of the rightful conductor. A missed opportunity for the new Africa. How many other humiliations?... The account of Nerses's son Vartkes Nalbandian is required reading to fully measure the pain of exile in a beloved and lovingly adopted country. Highway robbery The hyperactive Nerses Nalbandian only recorded three songs on vinyl: Tebèb nèw tèqami, Adèrètch Arada and Qèlèméwa (Philips Ethiopia PH 088181 [1967] and PH 108 [1971]). This is surely a question of generation — and of temperament. The musician was already well into his fifties when the brief heyday of Ethiopian vinyl (1969-1977) got underway, entirely managed by a cohort of upstart 25-year-old boomers. The only way to listen to Nalbandian today is to rely on a few nostalgic radio programmes, or to get hold of forgotten reel-to-reel tapes and to patiently restore them. There is not even a trade in bootleg cassettes amongst Ethiopian musical history fanatics, nor are there any sound archives at the National Theatre. Unlike all the other great Ethiopian artists (who kept no documentary records of their careers), Nerses Nalbandian did leave behind extraordinary family archives, which allow us to decipher not only the whole of his personal journey, but also the triumphant march of Swinging Addis towards its peak, as immortalized in the definitive vinyls. A gold mine of first-hand information on the history of Ethiopian music. Scores, concert programmes, official and private correspondence, detailed proposals, plans and budgets, etc., along with reasoned objections, or even firm refusals... An entire book should be devoted to the life's work of this veritable founding father who championed the causes of music in Ethiopia. It must be underscored that, from 1955 until his death, Nerses Nalbandian was truly the key figure of modern Ethiopian music. Nothing less. We must see beyond the shortcuts and the glossing-over borne of a lazy journalism that insists on seeing in the Ethio-Jazz of Mulatu Astatke [Astatqé] the alpha and the omega of “Swinging Addis”. With the willing assent of its creator, this fine innovation has been turned into a hagiographic and hegemonic category intended to gather under its wing not only the disputed masterpieces of its self-proclaimed godfather, but all manner of Ethiopian pop music, from Tlahoun Gèssèssè to Mahmoud Ahmed by way of Alèmayèhu Eshèté or Gétatchèw Mèkurya... Let us remember that Mulatu only returned to Ethiopia at the very end of the 1960s, after more than ten years of studious exile, whereas the so-called "Swinging Addis" had actually begun in around 1960 – or even in 1955. Mulatu was 17 years old in 1960! – a student in the United Kingdom and then in the USA between 1958 and 1969… This is not to deny his role, but simply to assign him a place that is more consistent with historical reality, amidst of genuine innovation, alleged plagiarism, and oversized influence, which still casts a long shadow today. The media's appetite for forgotten old talents, saved by the bell, tends too often to discount the most stubborn of facts. Dear music lovers, let's make one last try to take a fair view of the history of modern Ethiopian music, and of the ways it has been unfairly mislabelled! Even today, it still seems just as unthinkable, in this extravagantly chauvinistic country, to simply recognise in Nerses Nalbandian the essential father figure of modern Ethiopian music. Of course there was no shortage of illustrious arrangers for the institutional bands of the 1960s (such as Haylou Wolde-Mariam, Girma Hadgu, Sahle Degago or Lemma Demissew…). But none of them, much youngers, possessed Nerses's velvet-gloved charisma, his demanding and impeccable standards, his integrity as an Ethiopianised fèrendj, his ferocious appetite for hard work, or his strictly musical authority, free from the treacherous hierarchies of the institutional bands (Imperial Bodyguard, Police, Army). For this chronic workaholic, music teaching, content programming, rigorous studies, and the creation of a modern Conservatory, were all links in the same chain of duties that were essential to the development of music in Ethiopia. It must be strongly underscored that the great historical pioneer of this music is an Armenien emigrant, deeply Ethiopianised, Nerses Nalbandian, Nalbandian the Ethiopian. Russ Gershon and Either/Orchestra And then came Russ Gershon. With his Either/Orchestra. A musician like Russ Gershon (born in 1959), saxophonist, composer, arranger, band leader, producer in charge of the Accurate Records label, who has played with Cab Calloway, the Four Tops, Morphine, John Medeski, Matt Wilson, Josh Roseman, Miguel Zenon, Bobby Ward and Willie “Loco” Alexander (to name only a few) can't help but make a strong impression. Especially when one learns that he wrote a Harvard University thesis on Manet's Le déjeuner sur l’herbe, produced free-flowing radiophonic orgies (52 hours of Ornette Coleman, Charlie Mingus, etc.), and counts Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Sun Ra and Gil Evans among his favorite musicians. The first fèrendj maestro (after Charles Sutton of Orchestra Ethiopia) to fall under the spell of Abyssinian chords, Russ Gershon has been conducting his own big band since 1985. Captivated in 1994 by the nascent Ethiopian groove that was emerging in the West, he has been engaged ever since in exploring and deepening this discovery, which paired so naturally with his encyclopedic jazzicism, thus opening the way for a surprising number of groups with undeniably Ethio-friendly inclinations, on every continent. Two concert tours in Ethiopia (2004 and 2011) and a few albums later, these Nalbandian recordings are at long last being released. éthiopiques 20 (Either/Orchestra & Guests - Live in Addis, 2005) already spoke volumes about E/O. What better now than to turn straight to Russ Gershon's own impressions and analysis (p. xx + pdf complet sur le CD). No one has acquired a deeper musical and historical grasp of Nerses Nalbandian's innumerable musical scores, nor developed an ongoing relationship with the Nalbandian family, which possesses a veritable treasure of information. The Bostonian's curiosity, precision and scrupulous commentary constitute an indispensable exploration of the musical genesis of "Swinging Addis". This recording represents the vital modernist link that was heretofore missing in these éthiopiques. Francis Falceto English translation by Karen Lou Albrecht

Hidden away amidst the bustle of Rio de Janeiro’s Catete neighbourhood is a small alleyway behind a cast iron gate. At its end is Bairro Saavedra, the courtyard surrounded by Neo-colonial houses where Brazilian guitar virtuoso Fabiano do Nascimento spent much of his childhood. Built in 1928, this secluded neighbourhood with its wooden shutters, tiled floors and tranquil benches, provides the inspiration for the title of Do Nascimento’s new album Vila, a collaborative project with a sixteen piece orchestra led by trombonist and arranger Vittor Santos. Recorded between Rio de Janeiro and Los Angeles, Vila is grand, tender, warm, playful and nostalgic. On this stunningly ambitious work, the delicate compositions led by Nascimento's guitar, which sits central in the mix, are surrounded by Santos’ breathtaking orchestral arrangements which swirl in all directions: complimenting, questioning, responding; in constant conversation. Like the eclecticism of the architecture Do Nascimento grew up surrounded by, his music straddles many worlds at once. He is known as a Brazilian acoustic guitar master and as such has collaborated with Arthur Verocai, Airto Moreira and Itibere Zwarg. But equally at home in Los Angeles's jazz and experimental music scenes, Do Nascimento is also known for his work with artists like Sam Gendel and Carlos Nino. Vittor Santos is an arranger and Trombonist who has worked extensively with many of the greats of Brazilian music, including João Donato, Marcos Valle, Toninho Horta, and Elza Soares.

Originally released in June 2009, The Ecstatic stands as a defining artistic statement from Mos Def (now known as yasiin bey) — a richly textured return to form that reaffirmed his status as one of hip-hop’s most adventurous and intellectually engaged voices. Arriving a decade after his celebrated debut Black on Both Sides, the album was widely regarded as his strongest work in years, earning near-universal praise for its lyrical breadth, eclectic production, and thematic ambition.Musically, The Ecstatic weaves a global sonic tapestry shaped by an array of forward-thinking producers including Madlib, J Dilla, Oh No, Preservation, Mr. Flash, Chad Hugo (of The Neptunes), and Georgia Anne Muldrow. The resulting soundscape is both rooted in hip-hop tradition and unbound by genre, integrating elements of jazz, soul, Middle-Eastern inflection, and experimental sample work. Tracks like “Supermagic” and “Twilite Speedball” establish a vibrant, restless energy that mirrors the album’s expansive creative scope.Lyrically, yasiin bey traverses personal, political, and philosophical terrain with characteristic incisiveness, confronting social inequality, Western imperialism, and questions of cultural identity with poetic urgency. Embracing risk and complexity rather than nostalgia, The Ecstatic remains a mature, deeply felt body of work whose ambition, depth, and enduring resonance have solidified its place as a standout entry in Mos Def’s catalog and in modern hip-hop history.

Space Afrika, the Manchester/Berlin-based duo of Joshua Tarelle Reid and Joshua Inyang, make raw, intensely detailed, visceral music with shades of ambient, trip-hop, techno, and modern classical, drawing spacious urban dubscapes from the contours of their city. 'Quiet Storm', the duo's highly anticipated follow-up to their 2021 LP on Dais Records, expands on its predecessor’s sound and scale in every direction as a sprawling, collaborative vision shaped with profound patience and intention. The leap, both technical and emotional, outlines the duo’s development — two polymath producers, composers, performers, and visual artists who’ve met expectations with mastery, embedding their own coming-of-age story within a moving suite of cathartic abstraction. Songs allude to spirituality and the human condition, the tension between boldness and softness, ambition and the inner demons that persist. Contributors include Axelle Fanyo, Alto Aria, Deuén, Klein, RXKNephew, Tony Njoku, Kiala Ogawa, and Kelly Moran. "We challenged ourselves and our own notions of identity, around class and diaspora, and how that is represented across musical genres. We wanted to show the characteristics of our project through the people we chose to work with," says Reid. "We've stayed true to ourselves. It's music from the heart. It's music that has a particular rawness to it, but we've articulated that in a more modern classic structure, there’s a much more critical pronunciation of techniques," says Inyang. "It's a collaborative record because there is always strength and love in collaboration. But with that, we were able to focus more strongly on our personal identity." Five years feels immense following the release of 'Honest Labour', which was named Resident Advisor’s album of 2021, among other accolades from the likes of Bandcamp, Mixmag, and The Guardian, and cemented Space Afrika as a world-class live act. "These things take time," says Inyang, explaining that with the increased visibility came a certain weight. "It’s taken us down a winding road with extreme positives and also negatives, a kind of responsibility that we've held as artists from the Northwest, with our work expanding globally." Naturally, 'Quiet Storm' responds to the moment with deep consideration. He continues, "There’s no compromise in how we’ve made this album. The idea started as a celebration of Black artistry. Our collaborations have been very intentional, as we discovered the pillars of the story– our journey, which is mirrored in the film, where two young boys have taken a risk by following a belief in their talents." If 'Honest Labour' defined Space Afrika’s industrial-noir frameworks, 'Quiet Storm' takes the contrast up several levels with striking textures and sophisticated arrangements. The album is every bit a multidisciplinary effort, with the duo welcoming contributions from cellists, violinists, guitarists, drummers, and more, often writing and arranging lines to realize the vision in its totality. "We always think about the presentation of the music, and as we're writing, we're thinking about the stages that it's going to be on," says Inyang. Reid adds, "It's been a big nod to have these international collaborations, but there’s a British eccentricity coming through this record. We’re connecting the threads between these disciplines and genres, whether rap or classical. We took time away to revisit and rethink how these worlds have inspired us. We saw it as a cathartic practice, to unshackle oneself and step into the unknown, and there is no limit to the ways you can articulate a message and the vessels that they come through." Speaking to the multidisciplinary nature of the project is the involvement of celebrated artist Glenn Ligon, whose work deals with Black identity and queerness. A central inspiration at the onset of recording, Ligon offered his work 'Figure #30' (2009) for the LP's cover artwork, and following the completion of recording, he agreed to provide the project’s name – an unprecedented gesture from the pioneering artist. When provided with the final audio, Ligon immediately thought of "Quiet Storm," the 1970s radio format known for smooth, late-night programming with themes of life and love. 'Quiet Storm'’s sequence brings the listener through various scenes, interludes, and arcs, marked by a sense that its movement is fluid and its characters are fleeting. Into-the-mirror monologues grapple with the existential and the immediate: survival, autonomy, purpose. The album opens with the explosive, string-backed "Vanity" featuring 2025 Grammy-winning opera singer Axelle Fanyo. At first fixated on the crevices of a quiet room, "Vanity" unfurls under Fanyo’s expressive soprano, traversing a wide emotional spectrum from sublime contemplation to poignant, heart-piercing pain. "Vanity" was the first song from the sessions released to the public, as the song is the central piece to the album's film accompaniment, 'Opera Omnia', directed by Valentin Noujaim. Throughout the record, words spoken and sung are placed sparingly to powerful effect. Vanessa Bedoret's bright vocals on "Crying never had a voice ~" break through the swell of thunderstorms. Tender affirmations from Danish artist Alto Aria lift up "From The Heart of Knowing", as saxophone and cello interplay with Kelly Moran on piano. Rochester, NY rapper RXKNephew declares his deep state reality on the woozy "Ballad For A 'G'" as strings, breath and static are exhaled, with co-production by South London’s Klein. The voice of "Validation" delves into the notion of owning who they are, as disorienting strums and city sounds surround, in conversation with plucks from Greco-Canadian harpist Any. "MLN" gets to the beauty and catharsis at the core of Quiet Storm. It’s a true band effort, a collective slow march featuring British-Nigerian artist Tony Njoku, with guitar and lead bass by Gabriel Evans, London's PIKE on drums, and Copenhagen's GB (Gustav B) on keys and strings. "Someone come and save me from the devil / I’m left outside," sighs Njoku in his processed falsetto as the snare drum snaps. On "Pretty Gospel," the Paris-based Japanese-Congolese artist Kiala Ogawa sings, "In my arms," guiding the listener into a somnambulant trance. The lullabic warmth is a respite from the weather, and world outside– "Another day to dream." The final movement gives 'Quiet Storm' its culminating release. "If This Is Hell" is assembled in a single take as a stream-of-consciousness from NYC’s Kaiuna Odogba aka Deuén, whose relatable array of spiraling brain activity is matched by jazzy, frenetic percussion. The pressure valve opens, as the phased drums and sharp conversational observational dispatched phrases cut abruptly after the line, "I wonder if that’s what heaven’s like?" We are left suspended in the comfort of the album's closer "Regards." Rainfall meets organ, drone, strings, and keys with gun reloads juxtaposed over tranquil hums. Heavy yet hopeful, Joshua Tarelle Reid and Joshua Inyang remind you of their journey so far. An appropriately cryptic and transportive outro for their open-ended opus, 'Quiet Storm' is a landmark level-up, self-produced, self-funded, and manifested out of sheer drive and conviction. Through bent time and low-lit haze, undoubtedly, Space Afrika has arrived.

The Weather Channel is the new instrumental album from Bad Brains bassist Darryl Jenifer. It follows his 2010 solo debut, In Search of Black Judas. The record features a venerable lineup of heavy-hitters from the jazz world, including the likes of John Medeski, Ben Perowsky, Jack DeJohnette, and Karl Berger, among others. The tracklist includes nine new compositions, as well as new interpretations of two Bad Brains classics.

The Weather Channel is the new instrumental album from Bad Brains bassist Darryl Jenifer. It follows his 2010 solo debut, In Search of Black Judas. The record features a venerable lineup of heavy-hitters from the jazz world, including the likes of John Medeski, Ben Perowsky, Jack DeJohnette, and Karl Berger, among others. The tracklist includes nine new compositions, as well as new interpretations of two Bad Brains classics.

Released in 1971, Maggot Brain stands as the towering masterpiece in Funkadelic’s groundbreaking catalog. Initially misunderstood upon release, the album is now widely regarded as one of the most influential records of all time. Anchored by Eddie Hazel’s otherworldly guitar performance on the legendary title track and featuring enduring favorites like “Can You Get To That,” Maggot Brain redefined the possibilities of funk, rock, and psychedelic music.For this definitive 2026 reissue, the album was mastered directly from analog tape, preserving the raw power, depth, and atmosphere of the original recordings with extraordinary detail. A longtime holy grail for collectors, Maggot Brain receives the fully analog treatment it has long deserved.

Released in 1971, Maggot Brain stands as the towering masterpiece in Funkadelic’s groundbreaking catalog. Initially misunderstood upon release, the album is now widely regarded as one of the most influential records of all time. Anchored by Eddie Hazel’s otherworldly guitar performance on the legendary title track and featuring enduring favorites like “Can You Get To That,” Maggot Brain redefined the possibilities of funk, rock, and psychedelic music.For this definitive 2026 reissue, the album was mastered directly from analog tape, preserving the raw power, depth, and atmosphere of the original recordings with extraordinary detail. A longtime holy grail for collectors, Maggot Brain receives the fully analog treatment it has long deserved.

Released in 1971, Maggot Brain stands as the towering masterpiece in Funkadelic’s groundbreaking catalog. Initially misunderstood upon release, the album is now widely regarded as one of the most influential records of all time. Anchored by Eddie Hazel’s otherworldly guitar performance on the legendary title track and featuring enduring favorites like “Can You Get To That,” Maggot Brain redefined the possibilities of funk, rock, and psychedelic music.For this definitive 2026 reissue, the album was mastered directly from analog tape, preserving the raw power, depth, and atmosphere of the original recordings with extraordinary detail. A longtime holy grail for collectors, Maggot Brain receives the fully analog treatment it has long deserved.

Geoff Farina’s Southern Records tenure was not just about Karate. His late-90s guitar-and-vocal solo output included the bedroom-recorded Usonian Dream Sequence that echoed The Secret Stars’ intimate lo-fi sentiments, Reverse Eclipse that rode the more delicate fringes of Unsolved-era Karate, and the single Steely Dan, a paean to a contemporaneous guilty pleasure. FFF collects all three long-out-of-print releases here on vinyl for the first time, fastidiously packaged and punctuated with Farina’s written reflections on their making.

Geoff Farina’s Southern Records tenure was not just about Karate. His late-90s guitar-and-vocal solo output included the bedroom-recorded Usonian Dream Sequence that echoed The Secret Stars’ intimate lo-fi sentiments, Reverse Eclipse that rode the more delicate fringes of Unsolved-era Karate, and the single Steely Dan, a paean to a contemporaneous guilty pleasure. FFF collects all three long-out-of-print releases here on vinyl for the first time, fastidiously packaged and punctuated with Farina’s written reflections on their making.

Following his critically acclaimed collections Electronic Music from the Seventies and Eighties and Electronic Music from the Eighties and Nineties, Carl Stone pairs Baroo (March 2019) with a double-LP album of recent works, including the final section of "Fujiken", his epic journey through southeast Asian field recordings and street cassette culture. On all six tracks, composed between 2013 and 2019, Stone’s pan-global playground of looping synths and Asian pop culture remains as fertile as ever, digitally shattered into unimagined patterns and gestures, either through the MAX programming language or (in the case of "Kikanbou") by generating live loops within an Elektron Octatrack sampler.The title track is the first recorded release from Stone’s ongoing collaboration with the Japanese vocalist Akaihirume. Elsewhere new influences come from rock (the slow drum break of "Bia Bia"), disco (the Nile Rodgers-esque guitar riff "Kikanbou") and hip hop (the frenetic percussion loop of "Han Yan"). Their diversity only adds to Stone’s borderless musical vision, a world where rhythm becomes atmosphere, song becomes beat, and pop becomes art.

Virga III is the third installment in Eluvium’s inspired experimental series – and the first in nearly five years. In unmistakable contrast to the dense, ominous sprawl of Virga II, the works that make up Virga III offer an almost divine reprieve. The nervous tension, loss of control, and patient recontextualization that inspires each volume of the Virga series manifests in unique ways. As composer and Eluvium architect, Matthew Robert Cooper describes, “While Virga I was brought to me by a temporarily evacuation from my house to my garage during a winter snowstorm – and Virga II by a phantasmal dream sequence during the height of a global pandemic – Virga III takes its inspiration from the worlds found in minor green spaces, culverts, and other miniature biological ecosystems operating within our daily deluge of cruel rhetoric, unspeakable violence, unending disruption and devastating disparity. A reflection on the micro and macro universes that surround us.” The songs on Virga III are composed and performed by Cooper, as always, but in the Virga universe, he essentially feels a unique collaboration within himself. As Cooper explains, “The Virga series affords me an opportunity to return to an older version of myself, but with a new level of understanding. Practicing more patience interacting with these built musical systems and recordings, I hesitantly duet with my past self in a new performance or manipulative layer, only after digesting the first for as long as possible, to a point of it conjuring new and uncharted feelings, in hopes of curating a sense of therapeutic self-awareness and discovery. A mixture of the exploratory mindset against a painterly emotional resonance, gradually unfurling itself unto itself.” The Virga III vinyl format is pressed onto crystal clear colored vinyl and housed in a full-color heavyweight old-style tip-on jacket. It is limited to a one-time pressing of 1,000 copies worldwide.

William Basinski's epochal four-album box of slowly decomposing memories gets its long-overdue deluxe reissue, with liner notes from Laurie Anderson and a fresh mastering job from Josh Bonati.

Undoubtedly one of the greatest "ambient" albums of our era, 'The Disintegration Loops' is an enduring aesthetic touchstone. It didn't exist in a vacuum when it appeared in the early '00s, as the dust settled after 9/11, but Basinski's prescient meditation on decay in the wake of tragedy felt like a musical mark in the sand - a body of work that changed the way we think about repetition and tape saturation. The story goes that the composer, who'd been recording loop-based, minimalist experiments since the '70s, inspired by Brian Eno's 'Discreet Music' and Steve Reich's 'It's Gonna Rain', was going through his archive of reel-to-reel tapes when he realized the ferrite was flaking away from the plastic. Not willing to give up on the material, he recorded the output, letting the tape head destroy his pieces irreparably and adding reverb to the output.

Now, this would have been good enough without the additional context, but Basinski finished 'Disintegration Loops' on the morning of September 11, 2001, and played the first piece to his friends as they sat on the roof of his apartment block, watching agape as events unfolded. He used the footage he shot at the time for the covers of each disc, and the suite's solemn, thoughtful decline served as the unofficial soundtrack of our collective grief, an unfussy reminder of tragedy that plays out its haunted remnants of the past until they die, quite literally. There's been plenty of music that's aped Basinski's method since, and we don't doubt there'll be plenty more, but there's nothing quite like the original, and this latest remaster is the definitive version.

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.

To be an attentive listener to the world as it stands is to be saturated with language. Speech resounds through nearly every space that features human beings, whether unwanted or desired, mundane or profound. Words sit on the page and in the ear, proliferating endlessly. This superabundance has long been a point of fascination for composer and musician Ben Vida, but over the past several years it has led to a new method of music making that simultaneously exalts and interrogates the primacy of language in our sonic and cultural environments. Gently, playfully, Vida breaks down language’s hierarchy of meaning and sound until they exist in egalitarian harmony. Oblivion Seekers is Vida’s newest album in this mode of composition, following 2023’s collaboration with new music ensemble Yarn/Wire The Beat My Head Hit. Like its predecessor, the music’s focus is on coordinated duets of spoken word in a neutral tone, the variable cadences of the words in motion creating complex internal rhythmic structures. He is joined by the voices of Nina Dante, Christina Vantzou, John Also Bennett, and Félicia Atkinson, creating a singular tone that is neither theirs nor his, fluid in its gender presentation, accent, and diction. The instrumental compositions that form the album’s understory have the casual flow of dialogue, conversational but subdued, rarely the agent of change. Here, Vida likewise called upon an accomplished community of players to accompany him: Dante on harp, Bennett on bass flute, Matt Bauder and Will Epstein on saxophones, Henry Fraser on bass, Cleek Schrey on violin, and Booker Stardrum on percussion. These elements form lattice-like structures that the text darts in and around, often adhering to downbeats but otherwise moving freely within each lilting phrase. A tranquil, focused temperament persists, enhanced by the reserved cadence of the voices that makes it feel as if the music is one long mantra that never quite reaches back to its genesis point. The effect is entrancing, equally soporific and gripping, implying repetition without ever moving exactly the same way twice. The instrumentation on each of the album’s four pieces varies; “Be Yr Own Abyss” is defined by the wave-like counterpoint of saxophones, while the ambiguous chime of vibraphone floats over “Oblivion Seekers” and Fraser’s swelling bass provides the album’s sole dramatic entrance. The music shifts in the ear as the text constantly redefines and recontextualizes the composition’s form and movement, even as it remains consistent in its otherworldly glow. The text is often drawn from snippets of language that Vida encountered throughout his life as he was composing: overheard mumblings from the supermarket line, impactful phrases from a novel he was reading, impressions of the music that wouldn’t leave his turntable. Small details, otherwise insignificant, accumulate not to form a narrative, but an impression of the complex meaning-making process that happens as one lives day to day. Characters and scenes flicker in and out of the frame, and phrases that beg to be unpacked are allowed to glide by. In “Be Yr Own Abyss” something like a thesis appears without fanfare: “Her tongue was out to kill her / all hail this mental space / constructing ambiguity / and the endless stream.” On two separate occasions the listener is told that waves are heading our way. There are many predecessors to these types of novel confluences of music and speech. Vida’s love of Robert Ashley is well documented, but perhaps even more significant are Mark E. Smith and The Fall, Neil Tennant and the Pet Shop Boys’ spoken verses, the entire history of hip hop, Meredith Monk. The way the words are delivered matters just as much as the words themselves, revealing an intentionality and directness that Vida highlights and subverts with the text’s abstract construction patterns. On Oblivion Seekers, the omnidirectional din is the marble Vida chips away at to illuminate the way we process the vast strangeness of the world. Its triumph is that we lose none of the beautiful mystery of how these signs bridge our external and internal worlds.

アルバムについて Following the jazzy library vibes of 2023’s collaborative Dolphin LP with Greg Foat and Moses Boyd, the venetian maestro Gigi Masin returns to the ambience for which he is renowned, with Movement - his first solo full-length since 2020’s Calypso, and his Sacred Bones Records debut. Fuelled by creative reinvention and rhythmic motion, he moves seamlessly between melancholy electronic notes, technoid robotics, groovy liminal cloudscapes, and fathoms-deep ambient aquatics. Since early beginnings in obscurity, his 1986 debut album Wind slowly built an organic following on late night radio, later bolstered when “Clouds” was sampled by artists like Björk, Post Malone, and more. He now counts Oneohtrix Point Never, Devendra Banhart, Caroline Polachek, and the late Kenny Wheeler as fans. The new album Movement reflects on Masin’s place within the pantheon of ambient masters, his ongoing artistic ambitions, and his aspirations for a scene which he’s seen grow exponentially from humble beginnings. The LP is also an ode to literal movement, both in nature, and in human physical expressions to sound. Masin strived to make ambient music for movement, not in the standard dance music sense, but “dynamic music, with a beating heart full of love.” Reconfiguring ambient’s association with solitary listening and cold academia, Gigi went outwards, channeling something somatic that connects with the body, not just the mind. “Bed on Mars” sets the titular tone for Masin’s renewed curiosity, with cosmic atmospherics evoking the sensation of waking up on a new planet unafraid, whilst the poignant synthesized trumpet and suspended liminal limbo of “Lost” feels like floating adrift in an unknown sea. Delving further into off-centre beats is the celestial techno funk of “Deception Dance,” which sounds like Sun Electric jamming with Carl Craig and Kraftwerk. The bright beaming light of “Golden” radiates warmth, sounding like the bossa nova brother of Göttsching’s Balearic classic E2 E4. Despite the passing of his wife after a long illness, and losing his musical archive in a flood, Gigi remains pure-at-heart and positive, pouring his soul into the pursuit of beauty. The latest in a slow starting but steadily building career, Movement sees Masin continue to secure his seat at the table of true ambient greats.

A full instrumental version of ‘Garbology’, the 2021 collaboration between American rapper Aesop Rock and hip-hop producer Blockhead. On-and-off creative foils for each other’s work going back years, the pair complemented each other perfectly on the original album, but this slate fully exposes Blockhead’s sparse and often desolate production work.

There are collaborations that feel engineered, and then there are those that feel like summer sun’s warmth on a Sunday. Helado Tropical, the debut collaborative album from Helado Negro and Reyna Tropical, belongs to the latter, channeling that easy, sun-drenched tenderness into sound. It didn’t begin with a plan so much as a meeting: two artists orbiting similar questions around language, identity, and music, finally landing in the same room. What followed was less a traditional writing process than a shared unfolding – an instinctive, immersive exchange that stretched across geographies, time zones, and states of being. The duo first met in June 2024 in North Carolina, brought together by a mutual friend and a loose invitation to spend time in the studio. What might have been a brief session turned into something closer to a three-day sleepover – equal parts conversation, curiosity, and creative risk. Reyna Tropical, who often works within intimate, long-standing collaborations, arrived unsure of what it would mean to open their process to someone new. Helado Negro, long known for expanding the sonic and emotional language of Latin music, entered with a similar openness: no expectations, just a willingness to see what might emerge. What emerged was immediate, rather than easing into collaboration, the two found themselves propelled forward by it – building songs in real time, responding to each other’s instincts without over-explaining them. There was no rigid division of roles. One would begin an idea, the other would answer. A melody would suggest a rhythm; a rhythm would reshape a lyric. “There was never a moment where we felt super stuck,” Helado Negro recalls. “It was just like ‘ok what’s next?’ and even within the songs, trying to create these micro worlds – we just felt excited about each moment.” That sense of momentum became foundational to Helado Tropical, a nine-song project that feels both weightless and deeply rooted. Built from guitars, drum machines, and synthesizers, the album resists clean categorization. It lives somewhere between ambient and rhythmic, intimate and expansive; essentially, a sonic language of its own making, shaped as much by feeling as by form. If there is a unifying thread, it’s movement. The album was written across multiple locations – North Carolina, Portland, and the midwest – with both artists continuing to shape the songs in between sessions, sending ideas back and forth in a kind of long-distance dialogue. At times, the process resembled a “postal service” exchange, each artist adding layers in solitude before returning to build together again. The result is music that carries a sense of travel within it – not just physical, but emotional and spiritual. For Reyna Tropical, that movement became central to the project’s meaning. “You can really lose yourself in where you are and you can miss a lot of processing,” they say. “But I think that this particular album really was able to ground me in what movement means to me and just different characters that the range of movement, travel… environment – sun, wind, and water – has the potential to bring out.” The songs reflect that duality: they drift, swell, and shift, yet remain tethered to something steady beneath the surface. That balance is perhaps most evident in “Sensación,” a song that explores intimacy outside of traditional frameworks. Rooted in curiosity, it opens up a more expansive understanding of closeness – one that, yes, can exist between people but also within oneself, and in fleeting shared moments. There is a softness to it, but also a charge: like a storm forming quietly in the distance. Elsewhere, “Fluye” captures a different kind of release – an almost suspended state of awe, inspired in part by Reyna Tropical’s experience watching a sunrise stretch endlessly across a long-haul flight. It’s a song about surrendering to flow, awakening, and recognizing continuity and connection – even in moments of disorientation. And then there is “Tocando,” one of the album’s most visceral recordings. Built from a pre-existing beat Helado Negro introduced during their sessions, the track took shape after more than a day without sleep. Reyna Tropical recalls pacing, waiting for the lyrics to arrive, before finally delivering them in what they describe as an almost essay-like outpouring. The result is a song that holds tension and tenderness simultaneously: a meditation on relationships that feels both fragile and fraught, intimate yet edged with warning. That duality of softness and sharpness, as well as openness and resistance, runs throughout the album. It’s there in “Soledad,” the final track recorded, which came together in a single late-night session after the project was technically complete. What began as an improvisation on keys turned into something magnetic, keeping both artists back into creation. “[We] couldn’t leave the room,” Reyna Tropical says. The finished song retains that energy between them, and sense of flow coupled with immediacy, unfolding with minimal alteration from its original form. Across Helado Tropical, there is a noticeable absence of constraint: not just musically, but conceptually. Both artists share a long-standing resistance to the expectations often placed on Latin music: what it should sound like, how it should feel, what stories it should tell. As they do individually, these two artists create space for something more fluid and personal on this project. That freedom extends to the album’s emotional perspective. While many of the songs explore intimacy, they rarely function as direct dialogues between the two voices. Instead, they exist within a shared world where each artist expresses something individual and collective. “It’s not about us speaking to each other,” Helado Negro explains. “It’s about us existing in the same feeling.” What makes Helado Tropical particularly resonant is the sense of trust that underpins it. Trust in each other, of course, but also trust in instinct, in process, and the idea that not everything needs to be fully understood in the moment it’s created. Much of the album was written through improvisation, with meaning revealing itself only later, as the artists listened back and reflected. In that way, the project functions as both creation and documentation: a record of a specific time, place, and connection. Reyna Tropical describes it as a form of archiving – capturing not just songs, but the emotional and relational context in which they were made. “It was a lot of processing, a lot of transition” they say about where they were at personally. Ultimately, it was about understanding that “this is supposed to be released so we could keep going. I really feel like this album does that personally, and hopefully is able to hold that for other people too.” That forward motion propelled by release is felt in every part of the album. It hums beneath the surface of even its quietest moments, carrying a sense of continuation, and of something still unfolding. Ultimately, Helado Tropical encapsulates a moment of two artists meeting at the right moment, with the right openness, allowing something larger than either of them to take shape. It is spontaneous yet intentional, grounded yet expansive, deeply personal yet invitingly universal. And this convergence of forces is just the beginning.