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A double-LP vinyl edition of *Adan no Kaze*—Ichiko Aoba’s seventh original album, originally released in December 2020—has been confirmed for release. Conceived as a "soundtrack for a fictional film," this album has been highly anticipated on vinyl by fans both in Japan and abroad. Collaborating with musician Taro Umebayashi on composition and arrangement, Aoba moves beyond her signature classical guitar-and-voice style; the album features rich, intricate soundscapes—incorporating chamber music ensembles and classical influences—that transport the listener into the world of a make-believe movie. By blending Umebayashi’s profound interpretation with Aoba’s storytelling, the work achieves a new level of artistic expression and deep musical resonance. It is a vibrant, colorful soundtrack comprising 14 tracks.
On White Morning, Fumio Miyashita distils his healing‑ambient language into two near‑half‑hour reveries: soft synths and gentle acoustic colours held in a discovered stillness that treats music as a space for rest, focus and quiet presence. White Morning, recorded in 1989 at Biwa Studio, captures Fumio Miyashita at the point where his music becomes less a sequence of notes and more a sustained state of being. Active through the late 1980s and early 1990s as a composer, arranger and multi‑instrumentalist, Miyashita carved out a singular niche between healing music, environmental sound and meditative ambient. While many contemporaries busied themselves mapping forests, cities and weather systems in tone, Miyashita turned inward. His pieces were designed explicitly for the body as much as the ear: music for rest, focus, presence, created to support breathing, posture and attention rather than to decorate a room. White Morning distils that vision into its purest form. The album consists of two extended works, 目覚め (See The Light) and 朝の祈り (Morning Prayer), each close to twenty‑five minutes in length. Built from soft synthesizer layers and delicate acoustic textures, they move with a slowness that feels less composed than discovered, as if Miyashita had patiently tuned himself to a particular inner frequency and simply stayed there. Harmonic changes are subtle, almost subliminal; motifs appear and dissolve without insisting on themselves. This is music that refuses to impose – no sharp edges, no dramatic arcs, just a gentle continuity of tone that invites the listener to sink, breathe and notice. In 目覚め (See The Light), bright but gauzy synth overtones suggest the first wash of morning illumination, a cautious opening of the eyes. Underneath, quieter figures pulse with the regularity of a resting heartbeat. The piece doesn’t build toward a climax; instead, it slightly increases its luminosity over time, like a room gradually filling with daylight. 朝の祈り (Morning Prayer) feels even more interior. Here, acoustic colours – faint chimes, possible string or flute traces – thread through the electronic bed, offering points of focus within the ongoing drone. The atmosphere is devotional without belonging to a specific faith: a sense of quietly held intention, of gratitude or petition expressed in sustained tone rather than in words. Originally released on CD in 1991, White Morning circulated quietly among devotees of kankyo ongaku and Japanese new age, passed hand to hand and mentioned in hushed tones alongside favourites by Hiroshi Yoshimura, Satoshi Ashikawa or Klaus Wiese. Unlike many environmental records designed explicitly around place – gardens, galleries, corporate lobbies – Miyashita’s work seems to address the interior “room” of the listener: the nervous system, the breath, the mind’s tendency to wander. That inward focus gives White Morning a particular intimacy. Even at low volume, you sense it re‑tuning the background; at higher levels, it can feel like stepping into a bath of sound. For its third release, Ambient Sans turns to this quietly beloved cornerstone of Japanese ambient, finally bringing White Morning to vinyl after decades of digital and CD‑only existence. The format shift underscores the album’s status as more than functional audio. As a physical object – a record you handle, place on a turntable, flip between sides of dawn and prayer – it becomes a ritual artefact, a tool for framing time at the beginning of a day or at any moment when the listener needs to withdraw without closing off. Essential for anyone drawn to Yoshimura’s environmental lightness, Ashikawa’s meditative depth or Wiese’s healing drones, White Morning stands as one of Miyashita’s most resonant offerings: music that stays, gently, until you’re ready to carry its stillness back into the rest of your life.

This album is created over the past years with my brother Alfred. This period has been spiritually transformative for me. It reflects the playfulness and authenticity that comes out of releasing deep traumas and healing wounds. This music comes from a deep place of joy and connection with my brother and with the essense of being a child. being filter free and in contact with the most uncomplicated and loving parts of ourselves, still emphasizing magic and mystery, like childhood does without asking for permission or confirmation.
it took me a while to actually see the music as an interconnected piece. I have been taking in and out material, re mixing, removing, rearranging, re producing and regretting all along the way. but suddenly when we mastered this selection on a cassette tape recorder, the meaning started to reveal itself and drawing threads back in time.
bivabippalukka is playfulness, intuition, transition and myths. the page of cups. the ideas rising, the energy flowing, flowers, stars and jumping creatures on the verge of dimensions. fortune telling, magic cards, secret caves and things that disappear right in front of you.
many talented guests playing with me and my visions on the album.
bossa nova is the most comforting genre for me. and we need comfort in these times. we need comfort to heal and feel joy to be able to keep dreaming and manifesting - and transmuting the world.
i am not gonna play this music live in the form it appears. i will still continue playing spiritual ambient music. this work is something else. it is pocket of joy, a cup with a fish. it is a step on the journey, like everything else.
On Everything You Giveaway, Pablo’s Eye turn Richard Skinner’s seaside vignette into a drifting meditation on loss and camouflage, where a missing jade earring becomes a quiet parable about hiding what hurts in the very element that once held it. Everything You Giveaway feels like a record built around a single, small gesture: a woman sitting by the sea, unconsciously loosening one jade earring while the man beside her skims green pebbles into the waves. The moment passes almost unnoticed, but later, in bed, she discovers that one earring is gone. Instead of panic, she feels relief. In her mind’s eye, she sees it lying on the seabed, indistinguishable from the stones he threw. “The best place to hide a leaf is in a tree,” she thinks, echoing the logic at the heart of Richard Skinner’s poem “a remoteness from the centre” (from the light user scheme, Smokestack Books, 2013). That line – and the short narrative wrapped around it – becomes the emotional axis for Everything You Giveaway. In typical Pablo’s Eye fashion, the text is not treated as a literal script but as a set of images to be dissolved into sound. The waves breaking become slow, undulating pulses; the green pebbles, small percussive or melodic events that vanish almost as soon as they appear; the jade earrings, bright timbral flashes that suddenly go missing from the texture. The music hovers in a state of “remoteness from the centre,” circling around implied themes rather than landing on them. What matters is not the dramatic revelation of the loss, but the quiet, inward turn that follows – the sense that giving something away, or losing it, can sometimes feel like placing it more deeply inside the world, hidden in plain sight. The album’s title, Everything You Giveaway, makes Skinner’s line universal. It’s not just about earrings and pebbles, but about all the things we let slip – relationships, secrets, fears, versions of ourselves – and how they might be absorbed by the environments we move through. The seaside setting is both literal and metaphorical: a place at the edge, where solid ground meets shifting water, and where it’s easy to imagine objects sinking out of view, merging with their surroundings. Pablo’s Eye use this as a frame for their sound-world: a gentle, porous music where elements arrive, mingle and recede, and where the distinction between foreground and background is constantly eroded. This approach aligns with the group’s long-standing interest in spoken word, ambient drift and cinematic suggestion. Here, the poem’s final line operates almost like a compositional rule: hide things in their own element. Melodies surface only to dissolve back into textures that resemble them; voices appear briefly and then disappear into a murmur of similar frequencies; a motif is introduced, then later “lost” inside a denser arrangement. As listeners, we are invited to experience the same subtle shift the woman feels: the movement from anxiety to acceptance, from clinging to an object to recognising its place in a larger pattern. Everything You Giveaway thus becomes less a straightforward adaptation of Skinner’s poem than a kind of extended footnote to it. By dwelling on that moment by the sea – the waves breaking, the casual gestures, the delayed discovery – Pablo’s Eye offer a sonic meditation on how we hide, how we surrender, and how the world quietly absorbs everything we let go.

"Después de llover” is about musical conversations between two people who have only recently met; they come from very different places, do not speak the same languages, and perhaps have little in common other than the resonance of their instruments. This encounter leads them to explore an imaginary world where they share sounds to build a place where they can go and play with the moisture of the plants growing in the water, listen to the pudus playing with the herons, rest on the floripondios, and perhaps stay there waiting for the rain to return. These pieces were recorded on a summer day in 2025 in Indrė’s home with kanklės, txompe, and violin. ------- “ Después de llover ” son conversaciones sonoras de dos personas que se conocen desde hace poco tiempo, vienen de lugares muy diferentes, no hablan las mismas lenguas y tal vez no tienen tanto en común más que la resonancia de sus instrumentos. Este encuentro les lleva a explorar un mundo imaginario donde comparten sonidos para construir un lugar donde poder ir a jugar con la humedad de las plantas que crecen en el agua, ir a escuchar a los pudus jugar con las garzas, ir a descansar sobre los floripondios y tal vez quedarse ahí a esperar a que regrese la lluvia. Estas piezas fueron grabadas en el verano de 2025 en la casa de Indre con kanklės, txompe y violín.

Kevin Drumm’s The Mild Temper gathers over six hours of work shaped by gradual change, fine detail and sustained tones. Across six discs, he explores density, resonance and space through small, deliberate shifts rather than overt movement. Sounds emerge, recede and recombine, holding a careful balance between stillness and motion. There’s no narrative push here—just close attention to texture, duration and the physical presence of sound. The result is a cohesive, absorbing body of work that reflects the precision and focus of Drumm’s long-standing practice.

originally released 1999. "Well, never mind--as long as people love it, here's another few sides of long-ago and far-away O'Rourke back on vinyl for the first time since way back in the mid-aughties. It's the Halfway to a Threeway 12" EP back to set turntables a-spinnin'! Fans of Eureka and Insignificance (not to mention Jim's tomfoolery as part of the Loose Fur band) will appreciate the analog pressing of these four slices of the pop music party-pooper combination of folk, classic rock, smooth jazz and a bit of the old avant-garde to help communicate the twisted ways of the misanthrope that made Jim such a perennial in the fickle world of record sales. A quick listen to the title track will hip you to our meaning: Halfway to a Threeway exposes our sweet soul-crusher as a lustful man-beast on the make. The song is a straight folk number--straight, that is, until you listen through the haze of those six-string overtones and chirpy harmony vocals to hear the true perversity of O'Rourke's fantasies. The decadence of stardom seems to have turned Jim into not only a sex freak, but also a man who loves women of all persuasions--particular the crippled and brain-dead kind! Don't listen to this song alone--at least, not with the drapes open."

Julia Holter always knew there were multiple forms her song “Materia” could take. The tune’s dynamic, Hildegard von Bingen-inspired melody and dense modal chords stood on their own without a complex arrangement on her wondrous 2024 album Something in the Room She Moves, but she felt a lingering desire to expand the texture and stretch out the harmony. Though she could hear the potential orchestration in her head, Something was already abundant with layers of sound by the time she finished it. She stuck with the original form of “Materia,” then, her cresting voice and blue Wurlitzer hosting games of harmonic hide-and-seek above subtle electronics. But on the new Materia, a kind of companion LP or sequel to Something, Holter has realized not one but two distinct versions of the song. “Materia 2” is a hallucinatory dream of drum machine, fretless bass, and clarinet, Holter’s voice spiraling through the ether alongside that of Jessika Kenney. She reconsiders the lyrics, too, novel fragments of surrealistic images reinforcing the original’s link between spirit and body, between love and blood. And on “Materia 3,” Holter literally slows down the take from Something. (It’s intended to be experienced as a “bonus track” in an homage to the CD era of her youth.) The change not only emphasizes the unpredictable glory of the harmonies within but also reiterates the song’s emotional sophistication, the sense that it’s about learning how to live. Materia is only seven tracks long, but Holter works in nearly that many modes here. There is the slowed “Materia” and the version reimagined for two voices, of course, but there are also two tracks that spooled out of the DAW project files and full band she built for Something. There are two astounding improvisations: one where she manipulates her voice so that each word seems to contain a symphony and another that is one of Materia’s most spellbinding and emotional pieces, “My Twin,” from which Holter lifted a riff to build the song “Fantasy.” These seven songs show that Holter is among her generation’s most open writers of art-pop, moving among ideas and idioms with exploratory aplomb. Materia is a kind of playground for Holter, where each distinct scene steadily coheres into a moving whole.

YHWH Nailgun, a New York-based four-piece band that, despite being virtually unknown, left a strong impression on Japanese audiences with their performance at Fuji Rock Festival 2025, has released *Magazine*, their debut album on the prestigious 4AD label.
YHWH Nailgun formed in 2020 around Zach Bolzon (vocals) and Sam Picard (drums). Sagiv Rosenstock (guitar) and Jack Tobias (keyboards) later joined, completing the current four-piece lineup.
Their music is often described using terms like noise, punk, free jazz, industrial, and experimental. However, they do not fully belong to any of these genres. Their sound features violently clashing rhythms, searing guitars, synthesizers that exude an eerie presence, and Zack Bolzon’s vocals, which sound like both a beast’s roar and a prayer. Rather than being a genre-spanning band, YHWH Nailgun has garnered attention as an entity that rejects any attempt to define music itself.
Their debut album, *45 Pounds*, released in 2025, earned high praise from media outlets worldwide for its overwhelming tension and destructive power. It established them as one of the most important new acts in the New York underground scene. Now, with their signing to 4AD—the label home to Cocteau Twins, the Pixies, Bon Iver, and Big Thief—their career is entering a new phase.
*Magazine* is an unusual work: though it contains 10 tracks, its total running time is a mere 11 minutes. However, this 11-minute duration is not merely an experimental idea. The album begins with a fade-in on the opening track, “Ghost of Love,” creating the sensation of having accidentally captured a fragment of sound that seems to be playing continuously somewhere. The band views this work not as a conventional album with a beginning and an end, but rather as a part of an endless musical world.
Their sound is even more refined than on their previous work. Sam Picard’s stripped-down drumming, Sagiv Rosenstock’s raw production, and Jack Tobias’s synthesizers, reminiscent of air raid sirens. And most striking of all is that Zach Bolzon’s vocals—previously hidden behind layers of reverb and delay—are now pushed to the forefront with unprecedented clarity.
The lyrics, filled with religious and symbolic imagery—blood, snakes, gods, and demons—exude a more vivid presence than ever before. The band name YHWH itself derives from the proper name for God in Hebrew, and this mystical worldview is explored even more deeply in *Magazine*.
YHWH Nailgun does not view their music as a reaction against or a counter to anything. Neither pandering to nor rejecting trends, they simply pursue the fleeting flashes of inspiration born of intuition and improvisation. What they are building is not a genre, but an autonomous world in and of itself. *Magazine* is a work that further sharpens this unique creative world and is sure to leave a lasting impression on many listeners.

In Cyano, synthesist and composer Emily A. Sprague questions self, other, ecology, and life in a distant realm. Conjured around the idea of an imagined planet whose inhabitants are rebuilding forbidden capacities for expressivity and emotional connection, Cyano is a meditation on visibility, psychic transformation, light transmission, and worlds beyond our knowing materialized through an intuitive use of modular synthesizers and voice.

In Cyano, synthesist and composer Emily A. Sprague questions self, other, ecology, and life in a distant realm. Conjured around the idea of an imagined planet whose inhabitants are rebuilding forbidden capacities for expressivity and emotional connection, Cyano is a meditation on visibility, psychic transformation, light transmission, and worlds beyond our knowing materialized through an intuitive use of modular synthesizers and voice.
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.
This is the debut album as bandleader by Ryo Kawasaki, a jazz and fusion guitarist whose talent was recognized by Gil Evans and who has made a name for himself internationally. The album showcases a cool, cosmic sound, featuring tracks such as “Agana,” which features breathtaking guitar playing set against a backdrop of fast-paced percussion, and “Phil,” a dazzling jazz-funk number.

Forest Factory is the duo of fellow nomads Elvin Brandhi and Andreas Trobollowitsch. Each using self-made turntables, sampler and voice to create a unique acoustic repertoire, suffusing computational and organic tonalities. Their vinyl debut HOLZWEG is a compositional amalgamation of recording sessions made in diverse ecosystems: Auditorium Novecento, Naples (2023), Ruang MES 56, Yogyakarta (2024), and their Japan tour in 2024. Redefining themselves in a range of contexts lends fluidity and plurality to the topology of their aesthetic.

On revelations of divine love, jason calhoun’s fifth release for Dear Life Records, Calhoun has assembled an especially potent album of work that whirrs, hums, and glows. Unlike his recent output centered around extended, hypnotic compositions, the fourteen tracks here immediately request your attention and curiosity. Their concision only underscores one of his greatest strengths: the ability to capture an evaporating, fleeting moment, and hold it close. The title is a nod to British Anchoress Julian of Norwich, whose collected writing of the same title is the earliest of any woman written in English. Here it serves as a unifying theme for Calhoun's particular palette of restless textures and tentative melodies. This is personal music, to be sure, but it also feels tactile, almost taffy-like in its presentation—and with such a potent combination, it is hard to resist a smile while listening. Like when the insistent pulse grounding 'last one' suddenly changes color as yawning tones reveal themselves, or how 'eye dilation' tiptoes into the room with each note sounding like a carefully chosen step. Though never precious or fussy, the album remains resolutely intimate. Calhoun puts it plainly: “Julian of Norwich says “‘All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well’. These days, I’ve been having my doubts that this is true. As no solution to the issue at hand, I look for the revelations of divine love in my life, and I find them--in my partner asleep on the floor in our studio, my survival of a social interaction with a stranger, being bad at chess. Don't ask me what they mean-I'm still figuring that out myself. Maybe we can figure it out together.” It is from this place of doubt, searching, and openness that the album finds its footing. When asked about the origin of the album's cover art, Calhoun explained, "I see this spot all the time on my commute home from work". A true statement of how the mundane and meaningful are interwoven, from someone who celebrates that union better than most. Unlike Julian of Norwich, Calhoun is no hermetic mystic himself-but in his daily life he works at an oncology center, doing routine but necessary work to provide treatment for those in need of it. While he might resist any analogizing, it is sincerely easy to say that Calhoun's body of work, which is only fortified by revelations of divine love, also offers care and company.



Orgone, a contemporary funk band based in Los Angeles, has spent years updating the sound of 60s and 70s soul and funk for the modern era. Among their catalog, New You stands out as one of the most beloved releases among fans.

Orgone, a contemporary funk band based in Los Angeles, has spent years updating the sound of 60s and 70s soul and funk for the modern era. Among their catalog, New You stands out as one of the most beloved releases among fans.

HIKARIGASASHIKOMU, the title of Foodman aka Takahide Higuchi’s new album, translates as ‘Light Shines in’ i.e. a Japanese phrase that conveys a sense of hope in a difficult place. This album is a direct evolution from the 2023 EP on Hyperdub, uchigawa tankentai (Exploration of One’s Inner World). The track hoso michi from that EP served as a crucial turning point, opening new creative possibilities that became the foundation for this new, both introspective yet hyperactive body of work. While Uchigawa Tankentai focused on confronting Foodman's creative process and their relationship with music and life during a difficult period, HIKARIGASASHIKOMU represents the clarity and 'light' found after that period of deep self-exploration. While this is a deeply personal record, it also manages formally to capture something near universal, the sound of a brain stretched between 500 open tabs, multitasking into oblivion in a world in which attention deficit is a global media environment, not merely a privatized psychological malaise. Sonically, HIKARIGASASHIKOMU sees Foodman focusing more on the use of their own voice. The album incorporates his looped vocals, singing elements of Japanese children’s songs and playground rhymes, and his everyday thoughts, blending as he puts it "casual everyday humming with my own sonic palette." Despite its charming, cartoon-like innocence, it might require repeated listens to condition yourself to it’s soundworld, as it leaps around manically, fractures and dissolves. Foodman’s voice repeats, disassembles, speeds up and down and is bounced around deliriously, as sound elements call and respond around him. Themes emerge from improvised ideas, structured into songs with their own internal logic, animated mini-dramas thrown into abstract shapes, but always when it seems like it could get too much, it turns to a miniature instrumental moment of respite. hard reclining, for example, even becomes a conventional, laidback song, guiding you through the madness. Structurally and vocally, the record draws influence from footwork (a long-standing element of the artist’s musical identity), ghetto house, and baile funk, all of which are maximally abstracted in Takahide’s hands, while maintaining small touches of his signature woody percussive sounds and bursts of spiralling psychedelic effects, like those heard in his last Hyperdub LP Yasuragi Land.
Music From Memory presents Mood Programs – Extended Play, the debut release from LA MARR, a new project conceived by Ron Trent. The first in an ongoing series for the label, it explores Trent’s fascination with mood, acoustics and the emotional impact of sound within physical space. Drawing inspiration from ambient music, dub, New Age, Krautrock, New Wave and HiFi sound system culture, LA MARR channels decades of sonic exploration into a refined contemporary framework. Built from a blend of analogue techniques and modern production methods, the project focuses on depth, warmth and carefully crafted atmospheres. Across the two tracks, 'Good Magic' and 'Clear', shimmering synth patterns, drifting pads, organic percussion and subtle low-end movement combine to create meditative, spacious compositions. Thoughtfully constructed and richly atmospheric, Mood Programs – Extended Play reflects Trent’s ongoing pursuit of sound as an immersive and transformative experience.

The story of Mar Vista begins in northern France, in Lille, in the early 1970s, with the meeting of two music enthusiasts: Claude Cuvelier and Jean Skowron. They connected through Claude’s brother. At that time, Jean was already standing out at blues concerts for his singular sonic approach: he placed microphones inside suitcases that he struck to produce raw, primitive sounds — an experimental process that immediately impressed Claude. Claude, shaped by the 1960s rock scene with his first band The Eaglestones, already had a solid musical background. After the group dissolved at the end of his military service, he explored folk and blues sounds as a solo artist, while discovering major new influences: Terry Riley, La Monte Young, Balinese music, as well as the emer- ging German scene — Kraftwerk, Popol Vuh, Tangerine Dream, Ash Ra Tempel, Neu!, Klaus Schulze. Jean, for his part, drew inspiration from Pink Floyd, Alan Parsons, and Tangerine Dream. A shared vision quickly took shape: to create repetitive, atmospheric music, freed from traditional formats. In 1973, they gave birth to Mar Vista, with the desire to compose long, immersive works, sometimes built around a single chord, in the spirit of Balinese music. The duo gradually equipped themselves: a Mini Korg in 1972, a Yamaha synthesizer, a Farfisa organ, and even a drum machine discovered by chance during a television appearance by Henri Salvador. The home studio became their creative sanctuary. Jean worked on a 4-track Teac tape recorder, Claude on a Philips model. Each freely composed their own side of the future album, while collaborating on each other’s ideas. Side A, led by Jean, is more rooted in the progressive electronic music of the time, influenced by Heldon, Amon Düül, and Soft Machine. Side B, bearing more of Claude’s imprint and his influences (Terry Riley, La Monte Young), is far more experimental and consists of a 22-minute trippy instrumental piece. On this record, Jean notably composed “Her Eyes Are Closed” (with his wife) and imagined the sound introduction using an alarm clock. The atmospheric transitions were created from white noise generated by a Yamaha synthesizer. In 1976, after facing rejections from several labels ((they dreamed of signing with the Düsseldorf label Brain — home of Neu! — but never dared to send their tracks), they self-produced “Visions of Sodal Ye,” a rare record pressed in only 150 copies by Le Kiosque d’Orphée. The sleeves were handmade. A photo was glued on each side of the cover, and the band name and album title were written with nail polish enhanced with silver glitter. Despite its confidential release at the time, the album is now consi- dered one of the most remarkable works of the genre ever released in France. A second album project inspired by the universe of H. P. Lovecraft was in progress, but family responsibilities slowed this creative momentum. As for concerts, the band performed live only rarely, mainly within the squat and anar- chist circuits of the time. Moreover, on this reissue you are holding, the second vinyl — composed of unreleased tracks — features improvised pieces without synthesizers, recorded live in August 1973 on a hill near Valence, in the garden of friends (Hervé and Martine). These rediscovered tracks had until then existed only on a cassette tape kept by a close acquaintance. The tracks Expedition and Crash73, meanwhile, date from 1975 and remained in demo form. As the years passed, the two musicians took different paths. Claude remained active in the music scene, through radio, record fairs, and fanzines such as L’Écho d’Hector and Le Poireau Gabardine. Jean’s passing deeply affected Claude, but did not prevent him from returning to music. Driven by nostalgia for Mar Vista, he powered up his synthesizers again, modernized his equipment, and resumed creating. Mar Vista never truly stopped. It survives like a discreet yet persistent pulse, much like its music: hypnotic, free, and resolutely off the beaten path. Sacha Sieff et Jean-Baptiste Guillot
Otto A Totland's modern compositional elements are most widely recognized as half of the Norwegian duo Deaf Center, where his melancholic, intricate piano work provides haunting relief to the beds of noise and deep strings from Erik K Skodvin. Pinô is the first full-length release by Totland, though his solo work has been released once, as the 5-minute A-side of Sonic Pieces 7inch Harmony From the Past. Otto's previously brief vignettes are now expanded into a fully personal realization of his own style. Initial track Open fills itself with heavy, knowing pauses that quickly become overwhelmed with the desire to understand what's to come. Each silence leads into quick flutters of keys, preparing the listener for a vast terrain of giddy beauty, bleak depths, and true contentedness. Pinô quickly recalls deep winter; in front of a fireplace for days on end, you lose how far along you've ventured into the 18 tracks without any idea how far is left to go. The experience feels inevitable, with no other option but to curl up somewhere cozy and appreciate the sense of timelessness that Totland has created. His album is a haunting modern compositional treasure, expressed through instrumentals completely unique to Totland and captured masterfully by Nils Frahm at Durton Studios. With Pinô, Otto A Totland appears out of the Norwegian landscape, sharing an achievement that will provide a relief during the brooding winter darkness. Though a highly personal endeavor, the recognizable continuation of Totland’s compositions will attract fans of Deaf Center, and the cinematic and classical components of his solo work will hold sway for those familiar with Harold Budd or Dustin O’Halloran.
