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Reverend Baron’s singular troubadour soul may best understand the capacity music has to span the distance between points on a map and pages in a calendar. Daniel, the acoustic instrumental follow-up to 2022’s Karma Chief label debut, From Anywhere…, expands the world beyond LA’s concrete canyons and overpasses to the bustling, churning sea of life that is Mexico City, to the sparse, rolling landscape of Red Cloud, Nebraska. In each locale, the constant companion was a nylon-stringed acoustic guitar — with a well-traveled history of its own. “It was my father’s guitar,” recalls Danny Garcia, the man behind the Reverend. “I found out a few years ago that it was my grandfather’s as well.” Ever-present since his childhood, the Mexican acoustic has taken on increased meaning for Garcia with each passing year. Hours upon hours spent playing, traveling, and breathing meaning into its fretboard have made it both a tool and talisman. “There’s the obvious bloodline and family and link…that link through history,” confides Garcia. “It’s kinda the only family heirloom I have.” Over the last while, all this playing (or “noodling” as Danny puts it) had Reverend Baron chasing a sound — one which belies the guitar’s origins. It’s a sound he would hear from time to time, and when it came to record Daniel, it would be his true magnetic north (or south as it were). Spinning through Daniel, and you will hear echoes of Antonio Bribiesca and Luiz Bonfa's guitar tones. Dig deeper and you’ll see the bones of Townes Van Zandt and Nick Drake guitar textures as well. While not claiming their virtuosity in his playing, the soul and vulnerability that have become calling cards for the first two Reverend Baron albums complement these influences. There is a warmth in Daniel that takes center stage in these acoustic meditations. From brief, fluid moments like “El Monte” and “How Glad” to the high-lonesome “Muchacho,” the songs drift like cumulus clouds over a deep blue skyway. Their graceful float is in stark contrast to the album’s origins. The studio Garcia was using for his intended second release on Karma Chief was a victim of the LA wildfires in January of 2025. “[The fires] halted work on my record,” says Garcia. “So I ended up leaving and went to Mexico City for a few months, and so worked quite a bit [on Daniel] there.” With his striped-down set up -- featuring his guitar, a few microphones, and a laptop -- the time in Mexico City set the tone for the project. “I just came into this space because it seemed like I could just do it…it seemed like it was time, and I didn’t have to force anything.” After leaving CDMX, Reverend Baron spent a few weeks in Red Cloud. While all the traveling and miles energize Garcia, this small midwestern village’s peaceful and unassuming nature was the ideal spot to focus and create. “LA is home and has its own cultural juice, which I love…Nebraska is very quiet. No one disturbs you, and I can just work and concentrate for weeks [there].” Daniel’s 11 tracks criss-cross the laylines of border music and folk, but categorizing them along a fault line or genre tag misses the point. These acoustic numbers move with a deliberate ease, never overstaying their welcome. The songs respond to time and distance with equal parts reflection and transparency; both mirror and window to the soul. Daniel is Reverend Baron’s conversation with his bloodline, influences, and the stops along the way. By the album’s closer, “Velasco,” Daniel’s conversation becomes your invitation to search for a path along that great sonic continuum housed within a song.
Perhaps the most interesting PAN in a minute; ‘Lila’ is the label debut from Paris-based Algerian Mohamed Bourouissa, best known as a visual artist but now offering a glimpse into his musical practice for the first time, blending highly unusual ambient pulses with autotuned, low-lit vocals, recorded on the fly using a keyboard, mixer, microphone and effects. It runs like some lost 1980’s private press, tipped FFO early Yves Tumor, Yungwebster, Space Afrika, AYYA, Future, Kareem Lotfy. Bourouissa’s first solo album finds the 48 year old artist capturing the permeable membrane between Paris' various communities through a dream diary of hazed ambient reflections, cloud rap inversions and bass-heavy club malfunctions. It follows his work over decades incorporating music as a phantom thread of his practice in photography, sculpture, and video, and perfectly conveys a sense of longing and melancholy central to Arabic classical and pop songs mediated via an electronic hypermodernism . The album is an intimate, sometimes unsettling experience, aptly described as “hypnagogic” by PAN, as heard in its tendency to dreamlike slowness and the layered haze of FX and xenharmonic chords that shroud and wreath his melismatic woes. The dozen tracks play out through autotuned vocal plumes familiar from work by Ayshay, Rainy Miller or Future, crossed with the type of deep blooz oozing from that superb Taymour x Bareetlblad turn on the diy label earlier this year. Each track taps a different pole into the album's landscape, one beatless, and one filled with machinegun toms and explosive snares. The beatless tracks are peculiarly stirring and the heavier, noisier moments somehow vanish into the same aether. Bourouissa peppers the album with wild twists and turns, hitting a dark alley on the anxiety-inducing 'NMB' and descending corrugated steps to a members-only basement on 'MN'. The relief comes with the title track, a collaboration with Fanigliulo (aka Mushy) that's a tender, hopeful moment - a clouded love song that injects some hope into the darkness.
Following her Grammy-nominated debut, "surrealist blues poet" aja money returns with a soulful, jazzy scratch pad of ideas, concepts and philosophies that features Vic Mensa, Mick Jenkins, Brandee Younger, Georgia Anne Muldrow, and others. On the surface, monet's sophomore album might seem like a set of poems set to low-slung, post-Low End Theory beats and kosmische/spiritual jazz synths, but she's not that straightforward. Her politics are the beating heart of her craft and that heart beats with revolutionary energy: already this year, her second poetry book 'Florida Water' has been nominated for an NAACP award. Crucially, she reclaims the idea of surrealism for Black voices; following artists like Suzanne Césaire, she uses surrealism to set her politics free, not as a series of Jungian tropes and aesthetics. She's plugged in throughout and, most importantly, her delivery makes the music strangely gripping. Poetry's not the easiest sell, but monet's tongue-twisting tales of American brutalism have never felt more necessary. "Octavia Butler newscasting premonitions from a graveside in Altadena," she quips on 'hollyweird', just moments before a wild trumpet circles the air above. And on the brilliant 'for the Congo', she cuts even closer to the bone. "How many children," she asks. "How many children died for the sake of my comfort today?" African percussion penetrates her words and it's hard not to feel utterly crushed.
Lolina returns with gg, a track that has become a fixture of her live sets before finally making its way to release. Balancing pop, performance art and uneasy humour, the song moves through uncertainty and contradiction while keeping its momentum intact. This edition features the extended version of ‘gg’ alongside two reworkings that push the track in different directions. An Arca remix reshapes its off-kilter energy into something even more unpredictable, while NEW YORK offers an alternative perspective on the original’s distinctive atmosphere. Part club track, part commentary and part mystery, gg captures Lolina at her most elusive, turning confusion, tension and movement into something oddly compelling.
A masterpiece released in 2006 by Nightmares on Wax—who have remained at the forefront of electronic and soul music for over 30 years—as a tribute to the reggae culture they’ve been immersed in since childhood. Centered on sounds rooted in Jamaica, the album organically fuses dub, soul, jazz, and hip-hop. With its simple yet addictive rhythms, synth lines reminiscent of Quincy Jones, a bluesy feel, and Balearic melodies, this warm sound has never lost its luster and continues to captivate countless listeners—a landmark album that marked a new pinnacle in their career.
This is the second album released in 1995 by Nightmares on Wax, a group that has remained at the forefront of electronic and soul music for over 30 years. Centered on hip-hop, the album organically fuses dub, soul, jazz, Latin percussion, and old-school breakbeats, distilling a rich musical lineage—spanning from reggae to dance music—into a single groove. The smoky sound, woven from passionate soul vocals, saxophone loops, piano, and Rhodes, had a profound influence on subsequent trends in electronic music. A masterpiece representative of 1990s downtempo that continues to resonate deeply to this day.
PRE-ORDERSep 18, 2026 (EST) LP - Black SS083lp 6669454152402 $13.00 3 TOTAL 3 Teranga, the final album in the Wau Wau Collectif trilogy, the dreamy cross-cultural collaboration across cultures, finds the band finally coming together. Taking its name from the Wolof word “teranga” is used to express a welcomeness, a hospitality to others, and something loosely as a shared meeting - an apt title for the album that is an expression of a meeting. The project began in the village of Toubab Dialaw in 2018, where two musicians Arouna Kane and Karl-Jonas Winquist first conceived of the idea. Over the subsequent years, the project evolved, with the two producers trading files back and forth over WhatsApp, incorporating their network of friends and colleagues into what would become a the Wau Wau Collectif, culminating in their first album “Yaral Sa Doom” (2021) and "Mariage” (2022). Their latest album, Teranga, is the third entry and final entry in this trilogy, finalized and mixed during the the band's first live tour - a five week sprawling journey across Europe with "three swedes, three Senegalaise, and a french driver, a lovely mess of languages”, Karl-Jonas explains. At the heart at the heart of Wau Wau Collective is a strong musical foundation, borne not just by the wide cultural swath from which the collective draws inspiration but from the deftly talented musicians - composed and performed with a staggering 26 different songwriters and musicians, playing an impressive array of instrumentation, from balfon, ngoni, calabasse, violin, cello, saxophone, and omnicord. The resulting sound is complicated to place, but sonically has certainly found its place in Teranga. At times, dreamy and meditative, but imbued with an organic soul, a wholly unique sound that is both anachronistic and future facing. “Oh, Africa” could be at home on a classic reissue, with an almost Turkish guitar riff, where 100 ans (their first live studio recording) reminiscent of early 2000s Amadou et Mariam. With roots in avant garde (Karl-Jonas has cited Barney Wilen's Moshi as an inspiration) while Wau Wau draws inspirations from these experiments, though diverging in their dedication to the collaborative spirit - a project enabled by cellphones, WhatsApp, and mp3s zipping around the internet - slightly ironic considering how acoustic and grounded and human it feels. As we close the chapter on the trilogy, Karl-Jonas insists that this may well be just the beginning: “we have barely started in some ways” he says, with plans shaping in the next year for getting the whole band together, and more tours on the horizon, more hope, more humanity, and more coming together.
For Takuro Okada, this marks his first physical release since *Konoma*, which received high praise from media outlets and listeners both in Japan and abroad. This work was created for the campaign promoting the new “MT2” footwear line designed by TOKYO DESIGN STUDIO New Balance. The campaign video is available on New Balance T-HOUSE’s owned media platform. Side A, “Still Water,” features Shouei Ikeda (flute) and is composed of a minimalist ensemble that strips the arrangement down to the bare essentials while incorporating elements of folk and Afro-music. Recorded based on improvised performances and captured on analog tape, the track evokes the subtle fluctuations of sound and rich spaces reminiscent of a still water’s surface. Side B, “Dohman Sehman,” takes the mood of vintage funk as its starting point while weaving in a melodic sensibility and folkloric resonance reminiscent of Japanese folk songs and kayōkyoku. Featuring up-and-coming musicians such as Kei Matsumaru (alto sax), Mei Katsumaru (tenor sax), Yuma Koda (Wurlitzer / Farfisa), Yuka Konishi (bass), and Hayate Ebihara (drums), this track is marked by a powerful groove created by a spatial mix reminiscent of dub techniques and a robust rhythm section. With “Still Water,” which is imbued with serene stillness, and “Dohman Sehman,” which contains a powerful groove, these two contrasting tracks showcase the breadth of Takuro Okada’s creative evolution since *Konoma*.
Intentions, megiapa’s lush and emotionally layered debut album, feels less like a collection of songs and more like a living archive of transformation. Across its warm synths, fluttering basslines, meditative voice notes and spiritual grooves, the Los Angeles-based producer, vocalist and composer maps the uncertain terrain between heartbreak, healing, fear and surrender. The album’s title is genuine. “The record is literally my intentions,” she says. “It’s a representation of my intentions, my dreams over the last five years or so.” Those years carried the weight of upheaval: the pandemic, the collapse of a long-term relationship, a move away from Chicago, and the disorientation that follows when the structure of your life suddenly disappears beneath you. But Intentions never sounds defeated. Instead, it radiates the quiet confidence of someone learning to trust herself in real time. That trust is embedded in the music’s very construction. Before this album, megiapa largely worked alone, making instrumentals in solitude, creating loops and fragments for herself without much thought toward public consumption. “These were just beats that I made for myself,” she explains. “It was my personal thing.” During the pandemic, she gained attention for her diddies series — brief, playful sketches often completed in a single evening. While those tracks carried an improvisatory charm, Intentions represents something deeper: patience. “What if I spend time with my music?” she remembers asking herself. The earliest pieces on Intentions date back to 2020 and 2021, but the album gradually evolved into something larger than its creator initially imagined. A grant from the city of Chicago helped push the project toward completion during one of the most unstable periods of her life. “I made a difficult decision that completely changed the stability I knew,” she says. “And so the record really is a representation of me returning to myself and gathering all these ideas and desires into one final offering.” That sense of accumulation defines the album’s beauty, as it feels handmade in the truest sense: every synth patch, vocal harmony and drum pattern carries the residue of lived experience. As a result, the collaborators surrounding megiapa function as witnesses to her becoming. Bassist The Growth Eternal and keyboardist Ahmad Muhammad (also known as Kafari) help ground the music in a deep-pocketed warmth, while drummer Mekala Session gives several tracks their stormy propulsion. Elsewhere, contributions from Blvck Spvde, Aankha Neal, Telemakus, Aisha Mars and 10.4 ROG add texture to songs already rich with feeling. For megiapa, creative partnership became part of the lesson. “Do I continue to take up space on this track,” she recalls asking herself, “or do I allow the piano to shine through?” Learning when to step back and let the music breathe became an act of growth. Right away, “Open Your Eyes,” produced by 10.4 ROG , sets the project’s fervent tone. Floating atop bright keys and an incessant chime, the song invites listeners toward reflection without losing its breezy accessibility. “Everything we need is within us,” she says of the track’s message. “We all reflect each other.” It’s the kind of statement that could sound overly sentimental in less capable hands, but megiapa delivers it with grounded sincerity. Elsewhere, Intentions reveals its bruises more directly. “Can’t Believe” — featuring Resavoir’s Will Miller on EVI, horn and piano — confronts the wreckage of a relationship with startling honesty, pairing Roland 808-inspired drums with aching reflections about longing for something that ultimately could not survive. “I can’t believe what I wanted,” she sings at the song’s center. Yet even here, the album isn’t bitter. The pain becomes a nudge to strive higher. That tension between disquiet and faith reaches its apex on “Crashing Down,” one of the album’s most resonant moments. Written during a Mexico retreat amid the chaos of the pandemic, the song emerged almost like a mantra. When she later revisited the song during periods of upheaval, the lyrics sounded like a prophecy. Intentions is also deeply informed by Black spiritual thought and cosmic possibility. Tracks like “(_(_on_the_spaceway_)_)” and “on the spaceway (frfr)” channel the liberatory philosophies of Sun Ra, imagining expansiveness beyond earthly limitation. “I imagine Black people in this spaceway just enjoying themselves in their full expansiveness,” she explains. In that sense, the album joins a lineage of Black experimental music that treats joy itself as resistance. Though International Anthem may seem like an unexpected home for the project, the partnership makes sense. The label has supported megiapa since her earliest days in Chicago, with figures like Alejandro “King Hippo” Ayala encouraging her long before the wider world caught on. “It’s like putting music out with my family at this point,” she says. By the time Intentions concludes, what remains is the feeling of having accompanied someone through a profound shift. The album asks listeners to relinquish their fear of the unknown. Again and again, megiapa returns to the same guiding principle: trust the process; everything will work out. “Fear is a hindrance to our dreams and our goals and the beauty of life,” she says. “Please dream with me. Please take a moment to reflect. And please be okay with things being uncertain.” On Intentions, this state becomes its own kind of freedom.
Intentions, megiapa’s lush and emotionally layered debut album, feels less like a collection of songs and more like a living archive of transformation. Across its warm synths, fluttering basslines, meditative voice notes and spiritual grooves, the Los Angeles-based producer, vocalist and composer maps the uncertain terrain between heartbreak, healing, fear and surrender. The album’s title is genuine. “The record is literally my intentions,” she says. “It’s a representation of my intentions, my dreams over the last five years or so.” Those years carried the weight of upheaval: the pandemic, the collapse of a long-term relationship, a move away from Chicago, and the disorientation that follows when the structure of your life suddenly disappears beneath you. But Intentions never sounds defeated. Instead, it radiates the quiet confidence of someone learning to trust herself in real time. That trust is embedded in the music’s very construction. Before this album, megiapa largely worked alone, making instrumentals in solitude, creating loops and fragments for herself without much thought toward public consumption. “These were just beats that I made for myself,” she explains. “It was my personal thing.” During the pandemic, she gained attention for her diddies series — brief, playful sketches often completed in a single evening. While those tracks carried an improvisatory charm, Intentions represents something deeper: patience. “What if I spend time with my music?” she remembers asking herself. The earliest pieces on Intentions date back to 2020 and 2021, but the album gradually evolved into something larger than its creator initially imagined. A grant from the city of Chicago helped push the project toward completion during one of the most unstable periods of her life. “I made a difficult decision that completely changed the stability I knew,” she says. “And so the record really is a representation of me returning to myself and gathering all these ideas and desires into one final offering.” That sense of accumulation defines the album’s beauty, as it feels handmade in the truest sense: every synth patch, vocal harmony and drum pattern carries the residue of lived experience. As a result, the collaborators surrounding megiapa function as witnesses to her becoming. Bassist The Growth Eternal and keyboardist Ahmad Muhammad (also known as Kafari) help ground the music in a deep-pocketed warmth, while drummer Mekala Session gives several tracks their stormy propulsion. Elsewhere, contributions from Blvck Spvde, Aankha Neal, Telemakus, Aisha Mars and 10.4 ROG add texture to songs already rich with feeling. For megiapa, creative partnership became part of the lesson. “Do I continue to take up space on this track,” she recalls asking herself, “or do I allow the piano to shine through?” Learning when to step back and let the music breathe became an act of growth. Right away, “Open Your Eyes,” produced by 10.4 ROG , sets the project’s fervent tone. Floating atop bright keys and an incessant chime, the song invites listeners toward reflection without losing its breezy accessibility. “Everything we need is within us,” she says of the track’s message. “We all reflect each other.” It’s the kind of statement that could sound overly sentimental in less capable hands, but megiapa delivers it with grounded sincerity. Elsewhere, Intentions reveals its bruises more directly. “Can’t Believe” — featuring Resavoir’s Will Miller on EVI, horn and piano — confronts the wreckage of a relationship with startling honesty, pairing Roland 808-inspired drums with aching reflections about longing for something that ultimately could not survive. “I can’t believe what I wanted,” she sings at the song’s center. Yet even here, the album isn’t bitter. The pain becomes a nudge to strive higher. That tension between disquiet and faith reaches its apex on “Crashing Down,” one of the album’s most resonant moments. Written during a Mexico retreat amid the chaos of the pandemic, the song emerged almost like a mantra. When she later revisited the song during periods of upheaval, the lyrics sounded like a prophecy. Intentions is also deeply informed by Black spiritual thought and cosmic possibility. Tracks like “(_(_on_the_spaceway_)_)” and “on the spaceway (frfr)” channel the liberatory philosophies of Sun Ra, imagining expansiveness beyond earthly limitation. “I imagine Black people in this spaceway just enjoying themselves in their full expansiveness,” she explains. In that sense, the album joins a lineage of Black experimental music that treats joy itself as resistance. Though International Anthem may seem like an unexpected home for the project, the partnership makes sense. The label has supported megiapa since her earliest days in Chicago, with figures like Alejandro “King Hippo” Ayala encouraging her long before the wider world caught on. “It’s like putting music out with my family at this point,” she says. By the time Intentions concludes, what remains is the feeling of having accompanied someone through a profound shift. The album asks listeners to relinquish their fear of the unknown. Again and again, megiapa returns to the same guiding principle: trust the process; everything will work out. “Fear is a hindrance to our dreams and our goals and the beauty of life,” she says. “Please dream with me. Please take a moment to reflect. And please be okay with things being uncertain.” On Intentions, this state becomes its own kind of freedom.
Forgotten electronic treasures by composer Ton de Leeuw rediscovered: first release in the Dutch Oscillation Series Dutch Oscillation Series (DOS) proudly announces the release of a box set featuring the complete electronic works of Ton de Leeuw (1926–1996). This publication marks the first instalment in a new series that brings the history of Dutch electronic music to life for a broad audience. The official presentation will take place on Saturday, 12 September, during the Gaudeamus Festival for contemporary music in Utrecht. Unique discoveries from the archive. For far too long, twentieth-century Dutch electronic music has remained hidden away in dim archives, only occasionally accessible under optimal conditions. Many compositions have not been heard for decades, perhaps after being presented to an audience only once. For this project, the original tapes were carefully traced in basements and archives, including the mysterious work Chronos, which was rediscovered in the collection of the Netherlands Music Institute (NMI). Even close collaborators of De Leeuw were unaware of the existence of Chronos. Another highlight of this release is the radiophonic oratorio Job (1956), which was awarded the Prix Italia radio prize by broadcaster Rai. The recordings were digitised by experts at the Institute of Sonology and the Instituut voor Beeld en Geluid (Netherlands Institute for Sound and Vision). The music was then meticulously restored and mastered in the studio of Jos Smolders (EARLabs), in accordance with modern standards, while strictly adhering to the composer’s original artistic intentions. The edition includes eight works composed between 1956 and 1982. The collection is released as a deluxe LP and CD box set and is also available via streaming and as high-resolution downloads. For an optimal listening experience, originally four-channel works such as Elektronische Studie (Electronic Study) and Antiphonie (Antiphony) are available as special Dolby Atmos downloads, allowing listeners to experience at home the unique spatial sound world envisioned by Ton de Leeuw. About Ton de LeeuwTon de Leeuw was one of the most influential Dutch composers of the twentieth century. A thinker with a distinctly cosmopolitan outlook, he immersed himself deeply in musical cultures from India, Japan, and Indonesia, among others. His work consistently sought to bridge Eastern and Western musical traditions and concepts. In addition, De Leeuw enjoyed a distinguished academic career. He served for many years as senior lecturer and director at the Amsterdam Conservatory and was affiliated as a senior research fellow with the University of Amsterdam. His book Muziek van de twintigste eeuw (Music of the Twentieth Century) remains a standard reference work.
Savage first-wave screamo from San Diego’s white belt progenitors. Collected for the first time on this 39-minute LP are Antioch Arrow’s complete Gravity recordings, including In Love With Jetts LP (+ a pair of previously unissued outtakes), The Lady Is A Cat 12”, Candle split, and two live Che Cafe tracks captured at the quintet’s spazzy peak. 23 tracks remastered from corroded DATs and annotated by Tony Rettman, plus lyrics, photos, and flyers, all housed in a stunning gatefold jacket for maximum McClard rage-baiting. ”A roar of nothing”—HeartattaCk
Savage first-wave screamo from San Diego’s white belt progenitors. Collected for the first time on this 39-minute LP are Antioch Arrow’s complete Gravity recordings, including In Love With Jetts LP (+ a pair of previously unissued outtakes), The Lady Is A Cat 12”, Candle split, and two live Che Cafe tracks captured at the quintet’s spazzy peak. 23 tracks remastered from corroded DATs and annotated by Tony Rettman, plus lyrics, photos, and flyers, all housed in a stunning gatefold jacket for maximum McClard rage-baiting. ”A roar of nothing”—HeartattaCk
In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.
Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.
Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytum comosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”
But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.
The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.
“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.
Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.
Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’s new renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.
-Andy Beta
Planet Trip Records presents Sydney underground heroes Hugh B & Setwun’s first album, 2020’s Yeah Definitely, and its long-awaited follow-up, 2026’s Nah Maybe, as a deluxe vinyl LP package. Underpinned by the low-end heft of dub and soundsystem culture, their albums draw deeply from an expansive array of sensibilities: tones, textures and patterns shaped by post-punk and ambient music dovetail with abstract, sampledelic hip-hop drum loops. Meanwhile, Setwun’s mysterious neo-soul/modern R&B vocals glide on the beat. Punctuated by dialogue snippets, these songs feel like exploring the multiverse with an interdimensional boombox. Yeah Definitely began as a batch of instrumentals. Having previously worked with an MPC, drum machines, instruments and Logic Audio, Hugh used a borrowed PC and Renoise, a tracker DAW associated with 21st-century jungle/drum & bass production. Afterwards, he sent them over to Setwun, who sketched vocals on top with ease. If Yeah Definitely came together quickly, Nah Maybe was a longer process. Still inspired, Hugh B knocked out a second folder of beats with neon-lit city-pop references, slow-jam grooves, and elegant guitar figures. This time, however, something wasn’t clicking for Setwun. The only cure here would be the passage of time. Over the next six years, Hugh and Setwun continued to collaborate while pursuing solo projects. Hugh released jungle, ambient house, dub and post-punk records through Planet Trip Records, Not Not Fun, and his OTIS Records label, while performing live, DJ, and leading the Modern Pop Ensemble. Similarly, Setwun, also a multi-instrumentalist, producer, and DJ, released a series of records that explore jazz, soul, house, and broken-beat electronica, forming a loose constellation for Mandarin Dreams and Extra Soul Perception. Alongside these efforts, he played shows and began performing with his backing band, The Soulstranauts. Early in 2026, something clicked, and Setwun drafted vocals for the second batch of beats over an evening. Not long after, he invited Hugh to mix Nah Maybe, every bit as special as Yeah Definitely. By waiting for the right moment and putting themselves outside of their comfort zone, Hugh B and Setwun have bottled lightning twice. We’re very pleased to be able to share Yeah Definitely and Nah Maybe with you.
Selva Discos is proud to present its latest release: the EP by the band Discoteca Tropicana. This record features 4 original tracks that celebrate the rhythms that have influenced Brazilian disco music, showcasing the best of this fusion: the swing and tropical flavour that bring sunshine to any dance floor. The project is the result of a collaboration between Kiko Costato, the enfant terrible of the Brazilian music scene, and Zé Nigro, a producer and multi-instrumentalist who has won two Grammy Awards and has worked with major names in Brazilian and international music such as João Donato, Antonio Carlos & Jocafi and Natasha Diggs. This EP is based on 4 different themes. For each one, Kiko and Zé Nigro recruited some of Brazil’s finest studio musicians – people who work with Seu Jorge, Céu, Criolo, Metá Metá, Cidadão Instigado and Tulipa Ruiz – as well as pioneering artists from the Brazilian Black music scene, such as the backing vocalists who work with the legendary Gilberto Gil. “Corpos Celestes” is a more classic “disco diva” track, featuring string arrangements and a grand piano, as if it were the start of the evening, a magical moment straight from the heyday of disco in the United States; “Corpo Treme” is the sweat, the vuco-vuco, a song for that moment when you’ve already let yourself go, a sprint to the frenetic rhythm of the carimbó; “Tobina” is the meeting of Brazil and Africa, from which Brazilian swing is born, an original chant straight from the Congo, with a characteristic African guitar, adapted to Brazilian rhythms, just like the afoxé. Finally, the dancefloor hit “Não Pode Acabar”, a more urban disco track, which works just as well for kicking off a party with the right vibe as for closing a set with the highest energy.
Where GB’s debut record was shrouded in a downtempo haze, Herzsprung creates a distinct sound that pushes outward: something more melodic, more full-throated, and more assured. "Herzsprung is GB’s most expansive work yet. Written while living in London, the Copenhagen-based songwriter and producer spent weeks cutting up copies of Metro — one of the city’s free newspapers — to form the lyrical foundation of the songs. In makeshift studios, he began bringing these ideas to life. Herzsprung draws together a wide spectrum of influences; from the groove-driven fusion jazz of the 1970s to Japanese noise-rock psychedelia, anthemic grunge, and outsider pop. There are traces of the alt-pop qualities that GB shares with his Copenhagen peers, but you hear London’s influence too, an urge to stretch rock tradition and break with form. After finding himself improbably cast in a viral Jaguar ad in 2024, he used the money to book out a studio villa in the Swedish wilderness, joined by a band of trusted musicians. Over the course of a week, the songs — which had previously existed as memos and notebook scribbles — took full shape through live performance and collective instinct. Tracked largely live to 24-track tape, the result is a record that feels immediate and playful in its execution. It captures the chemistry of an uncompromising band brimming with ideas and welcoming spontaneity. Herzsprung sifts through the past and present with urgency, cutting it open so that the future leaks out. On the record's climax, “Shit River”, GB is backed by a full choir as he screams for "someplace beaming with more colors”. “..and everything in between collapsed, rushing floods of insignificance”."
Roy Montgomery and Martha Skye Murphy first connected when Murphy included one of Montgomery’s songs on a mixtape. Conversations about their respective practices soon followed, revealing a shared musical language. They also discovered they used the same recording device, a Tascam recorder, which prioritises process over correction. Their approach embraces layering, multitracking, and imperfection. Since then, they have developed an ongoing creative relationship, regularly sharing music and crossing paths in various projects. Montgomery later featured on Murphy’s 2024 album Um, released via AD 93 to critical acclaim, while Murphy joined Montgomery during his summer 2023 residency at Cafe OTO. What draws them together is the emotional force of each other’s music. Montgomery’s cyclical, decaying compositions are shaped through intricate guitar and piano work, blending post-rock, folk, and drone. Murphy, meanwhile, possesses a rare gift for transformation; though her vocals often resemble fragments of words, consonants, or vowels, they frequently function as pure sound, drawing on glossolalia and prioritising feeling over any ‘learnt’ language. Emotion and intuition are the driving forces behind Nebular, an album that oscillates between the intimate with the unknown. This spirit is reflected in its artwork. Murphy shared a painting by Irish artist Simon English depicting a solitary house bathed in dusky blue light, and the pair quickly settled on it as the cover image. Both were captivated by its atmosphere. Montgomery related it to the isolated, seemingly uninhabited houses he encounters while travelling through rural New Zealand—places that inspire a desire to knock on the door and discover what lies beyond. “Terra incognita springs to mind. A search into the unknown,” Murphy agrees. The nocturnal and remote nature of the artwork mirrors the process of making Nebular. The album was created entirely through remote correspondence, with stems exchanged via email. Their messages were often written and read at different times of day, and, because of the time difference and the demands of daily life, replies usually were sent late at night and the music too often composed at nocturnal hours. Their exchanges took on the quality of pen pals sending letters across great distances. This suspended sense of time is echoed in Nebular’s sound, with its feeling of temporal drift and timelessness. On Nebular, Montgomery and Murphy have harnessed raw emotion and launched it into a time capsule bound for the stars. It allows you to drift, to be present, and to feel; creating something timeless. Martha Skye Murphy comments: “Roy and I have a shared vernacular in the music we make together; a kind of sonic sign language, which allows us to communicate without ever really explaining the material to one another. This is partly due to our shared process, which embraces layers, multitracking and imperfection (for me). I see our collaboration as a continuously unravelling piece of string; one song leads onto the next like a slowly evolving constellation and I’d like to hope we continue in this vein.”
Two deep, meditative house tracks from Suze Ijó & Zopelar."On “Ritual of Dance,” Nhojj’s voice guides the listener onto a (makeshift) dance floor, as the track builds in intensity, mirroring the rising energy of a dance session. On the flip, “Groove Extracts” leans further into a stripped, hypnotic space. Driven by percussion, bass, and a wandering key solo. It draws you inward towards the more meditative side of losing yourself in the groove. Inviting the body to take over where the mind dissolves.Ritual of Dance EP is about the journey of dancing alone or together."
The fifth LP in the long history of the label comes from another Belgian producer who is ready to fly high. After San Soda, Metrobox, Uni Son and label boss Red D it is now time for Tom Smeyers to step up and take us into his universe of warm grooves and sweet house music…with a twist. Taking in influences from around the full spectrum of electronic music these six tracks represent what Tom is about at the moment. From deepest old school inspired house to more broken beat action right into drum’n’bass territory, with an attention to detail and experienced sound design. As if that wasn’t enough Tom also took care of the artwork to match his music. We here at WPH call that a 360 artist. Welcome to the family Tom Smeyers! DTM Funk: Super Dope! DJ Bone: Really great release. I love every track! Owain K: Classy grooves for dancefloor moves. Séa: Lovely! Simon Caldwell: Beautiful machine house music. Takes me back and takes me forward. Satoshi Fumi: Really love all! Severino Panzetta: Great sound. Ame: Thanks for these. DJ Merci: Top release! Red D: So good I just had to release these J
In 2009, the label Art Yard sent a probe into the outer regions of contemporary electronic music, releasing Berliner Ring's "Orbital" album, a dub techno hymnal for Berlin’s orbital ring road. Drawing together the disparate elements of invented instruments, modified keyboards, customized rhythm and string machines, it was built around moods and themes drawn from the Berlin landscape. One member of the Ring, Alexander Christou, also a part of the Berlin electro rock group Elecdrones, recording for Katzensonne. The band were “not interested in the crafting of chunks of music ready to be consumed”. Christou has since been recording under the moniker Al Chem, crossing analogue and digital realms, synthesizing a kind of philosopher’s stone. As Al Chem, he released on Tummy Touch Records, and now follows with a collection of foggy electronic dub meditations recorded between 2000 and 2005 in a full album. In the battle to harness the elements, ancient mists permeated Chem’s music. A murky, mercurial humidity saturates the project. A distinctly north European descendant of dub, a kind of Seventh Seal that Bergman could have made, if provided enough hydroponic infusions. No Hopper is a rework of the Ras Michael song No Hoppers, from his legendary album, Rastafari Dub, Chem's version shuffles the pack of electronic percussion with organic, Moondog-like rhythms and hazy atmospheric chords; The Prophet pinpoints Chem's GPS firmly in Berlin, just as The Red Tower blurs that kick-drum parallel between reggae and house music; Baudelaire sputters digital delay, piling on the pressure, a clatter of surgical implements performing an operation out of Dead Ringers, the patient storming out of the theatre with loosely fitted mechanical body parts; the instrumental No Hopper only serves to highlight the distant gathering storm. Ladder of Perfection rounds off the set with a drone, creaking with bubbling digital mud pools.
'Denshi Ongaku No Bigaku Vol. 3', a Cosmocities compilation put together by label owner Matt Soulie which continues the journey through Japan’s diverse sonic landscape. "Since its inception, the Denshi Ongaku No Bigaku project has paid tribute to a musical culture that has profoundly influenced the Cosmocities vision. Where the first volume explored dreamy ambient textures and deep electronic moods, and the second shifted focus towards boogie-laden rhythms and jazz-fuelled dancefloor excursions, Volume 3 finds a natural balance between introspection and movement. The compilation opens with Yosi Horikawa’s sublime “Bubbles”, an ambient masterpiece whose delicate organic textures gently set the tone. Chari Chari’s “Luna de Ritmos” follows with deep, ethereal house atmospherics before Force Of Nature’s hypnotic “Skyy High” guides listeners further into immersive territory. The journey continues through the experimental electronics of XTAL’s “Skygazer” and the analogue warmth of Takuya Matsumoto’s “Jump Rope Music”, while regular Cosmocities contributor Yuu Udagawa delivers the sophisticated high-tech jazz house groove of “Little Secrets”. On the second half of the collection, Kuniyuki’s remix of Slow Didi’s “Follow Me” brings rich jazz-inflected elegance, leading seamlessly into the futuristic techno-swing fusion of DJ Eiji Takehana featuring Yusuke Nakamura’s “Deep Track Jazz”. Tominori Hosoya’s “Summer Dreamers” adds a deeply emotional and dreamlike house moment before Azzurro’s “Just A Touch Of Love” shifts the focus firmly towards the dancefloor with a hypnotic late-night thumper. Closing the compilation is AcidGelge’s “Fatality 4”, a beautifully spacey and atmospheric finale that leaves the listener suspended somewhere between the club, the cosmos and the imagination."