Start your journey into our most recent interviews here - with music and videos. Updated almost daily.
The words to Joseph Arthur's "Honey and the Moon," dealing with trust, timing and answering machines, didn't just feel like he was singing about my life – in a way, he was. Arthur calls this “shadow work on the page”: As intimate as may get, you're never just singing about yourself.
Sofie Paez's “Bodies of Water” was inspired by”The Old Man and the Sea,” melodies moving and curling like waves, searching for fluidity. But the water references are metaphors for something deeper: Our connection to the ocean inside of us, a state of surrender to and through sound.
Daniel Bierdümpfl has many ways of thinking about improvisation: As the paradox of “productive destruction.” As a process of repetition to unveil something new. As an automated search for automatisms in order to break them. Ultimately, however, thinking alone won't save us – only playing will.
Somehow, you can hear Maxime Corbeil-Perron's background as a drummer in the dense and mostly beatless dreamscapes of his Courant Zéro project. Spaces of cathedral splendour open up, illuminated by sacral sounds moving slowly but insistently, caught in neverending hallucinatory drift.
Pop, for Robert Baxter, means being loud and vulnerable, confident and intimate, flexible and precise, extrovert and philosophical. It is a perfectly centred world of polarities. This world is always visual. In it, there is no such thing, as “just music.”
For Lil Cherry, hip-hop will always be a way of life, because “without living life to the fullest, there is no story worth telling.” In tandem with her congenial creative partner GOLDBUUDA, her lyrical prowess gets embedded into distorted drum machine deliria and gloriously glossy melodies.
Through the lockdown and many iterations, the new Empirical album grew from a core of concentrated cells into an epic, orchestrated suite. The artwork's lava stream captures the unstoppable force of the music and its smouldering tension: Cool to the touch, but fiercely passionate inside.
“I think there are dangerous forces around us that attack creativity on a daily basis in the form of algorithmic governance.“
“Genre is going to matter less and worlds are going to matter more. An artist won’t just be releasing songs. Music, visuals, fashion, characters, games, communities, live experiences — they're starting to become one language.”
The quartet Lisa Stick assembled for a performance at Cologne's Loft club manages to pack a considerable inspirational punch with remarkable elegance of tone. It's music between mood and sculpture: You can all but see the airstreams from the reeds, physically sense the groove.
One of Gabriel Cabezas' most fascinating teaching exercises for his students is to play pieces “incorrectly” with utmost commitment. Strong decisions are at the core of all his interpretations, rendering none definitive and no perspective invalid.
“I’ve changed words and I’ve even stopped singing certain songs that just don’t jive with where I’m at at the present moment.”
Calum Builder's (Re)constructed Pipe Organ, a futuristic instrument built from decomissioned pipes, looks like it was lifted straight from David Cronenberg's dream diary. The music the composer creates with it is of a hallucinatory otherness, a transmutation of breath and space into spirit.
On the quarter of an hour long “Supercontinent”, Light Conductor ignite a cosmic maelstrom of pounding kicks, apocalyptic sweeps and scintillating pads. Incomparable and brutally repetitive, massive and utterly overwhelming, this is the sound of galaxies collapsing.
Applied Communications “comeback” LP may be even weirder than 2005's “Uhhh Sort Of” which Pitchfork called a “mess of an album.” It seems like the times have caught up with him because these twisting and turning synth pop tunes feel strangely relatable and irrestibly catchy. A 7.9 at least.
Some claim that music begins where words end. For Stephanie Borgani, this thought defines her approach to singing. Treating her voice as an instrument and blending into the sound of a chamberjazz ensemble, her motivations may be political, but the music is simply and uniquely captivating.
Felix Kubin had composed a pool of short radio IDs, compressing entire acoustic worlds in the span of seconds. Collaborating with Asmus Tietchens, the duo reworked these IDs, extending them into imagined acoustic space – this is the sound beyond all transmissions.
On his new album, Enzo Favata develops a fascinating thought: Life isn't pushing forwards, it is returning. The pieces are expressions of people, scenery, and space, sensually dancing on the tightrope of time. Every sound has its place here, embedded into a landscape of intimate relationships.
PRNCPTL was born from curiosity: Curiosity to explore sexuality and music, desires and different ways of being. For thirteen years, the Berlin party series, hosted at various venues across the city, has become a beacon of freedom - “with relationships that keep growing across borders.”
What good is a big voice if you're not going to say something meaningful? Musically, Sandra St. Victor's “Eleven” is an epic gumbo of boogie, electronica, soul and funk. Thematically, it captures her take on injustice, relationships, empowerment – and anything that pisses her off.
Ok Cowgirl's Leah Lavigne has become a great songwriter mostly by living life. The songs on “Rhinestone Cowgirl” cover both the private and panoramic, ranging from doubt to domestic pleasures. Tangy, fuzz-drenched and triumphant, this is the sound of a heart beating for music.
As Kaoru Watanabe proves on “The Arch,” we can't understand the past by just travelling backwards - we have to bring it into the present. The work is a personal meditation on his relationship with his heritage, traditional instruments entering a dialogue with atmospheric synths.
After inspired improvisations in a trio constellation, clarinetist-composer John McCowen wanted to sustain the momentum. And so, he “spectrally pulled apart” and re-arranged solo material into a 34-minute sound field, harmonies appearing and vanishing in mysterious cycles of ebb and tide.
Our response to sound is a lot like picking blueberries, Hans P. Kjorstad feels. The image fits the composer's new release, which offers his personal take on Norwegian folk. Conjuring quiet magic and probing the spaces between tones, Kjorstad keeps taking a different route through the forest.
Many drummers will claim that their instrument means everything to them. LOX, however, means it literally, having grown up with percussion all around him and grooves a primary means of communication. His drums beat the rhythm of life, from birth to death, in times of pain and healing.
For 20 years, the Austrian ensemble has looked darkness in the eye and countered its doom with sweltering, ferociously crawling industrial anthems. If the result is equally ugly and beguiling, then that's for a reason: It is only after you've confirmed your worst fears that change can take place.
The premise for the duo's “Seven Dogs EP” was simple: Creating electronic music that feels as spontaneous as a jazz combo. While assembling the hypnotically off-kilter beats and seductive piano lines, concepts were notably absent as the brain's right hemisphere took control.
It would be fascinating to hear the isolated drum track of London-based ensemble Empirical's new album. From his kit, Shane Forbes contributes anything from propulsion to colour, from pressure to softness - participating in every conversation, yet “falling freely” while doing it.
It can be funny to depict German as a harsh, staccato-driven language. But it is far more rewarding to listen to a master wordsmith like Ingo Pohlmann draw out its soft poetry - making us realise how miraculous seemingly everyday occurrences really are.
If you close your eyes, you can see the “invisible threads” that Adam Rudolph is connecting in his pastel-coloured suite. If you open your ears, you can even touch them. Delicate ney licks, enigmatic electronics, and Rudolph's always present pulse weave a world filled with life, loss and love.
“When we ignore noise, it disturbs us,” Cage asserted, “when we listen to it, we find it fascinating.” But what if we probe and drill into it like Giulio Aldinucci? Searching for structures in complexity, revealing beauty where others see brutality, his work sets free music encased by the ages.
Eilis Frawley never set out to record a kraut album. And, despite obvious overlaps, she hasn't. Driven by trance-inducing drum patterns and coolly delivered vocals, her music may lead listeners into similar states of mesmerising weirdness – but these worlds are all hers.
Ray Mang is one of the few remaining producers who still sees remixing as an integral part of his profession. His treatment of the original is never a distortion, but an effort of pushing the music into adjacent territory – as on his recent dancefloor re-imagining for Kraak & Smaak.
The sessions for “Civil Engineering” were just a test. They weren't even supposed to turn into an album. And then things just fell into place. Recorded in an intimate trio constellation but making using transformative electronics to great effect, these pieces open a space of infinite possibilities.
If your headphones could pick which music to play, they'd choose “Animal Invisível.” The brainchild of composer-guitarist Guri Assis, his demo-disc-level debut weaves a utopian cocoon from 70s spiritual soul, sweet funk and electronica that makes you believe in human goodness again.
“I'm drawn to any of the extremes. Anything that pushes to the extreme.”
The cover of the duo's latest endeavour shows nothing but a framed, white canvas. Each piece is a “pencil” - an inspirational tool for the mind to fill the void. It is a great concept for these charming, constantly surprising interactions which, ironically, are in need of no concept whatsoever.
Drawn in by themes of self-destruction and using songwriting as therapy, Lee Emi feels strongly about the power of poetry. And yet, for her, a melody can express things the lyrics can't: “I love that music can create a whole environment for your feelings to live in without saying a single word.”
Right from the start, the Dresden duo wanted freedom and real danger instead of comfort and convenience. On their third full-length, they take the liberty of replacing dystopia with hope. Their songs are encoded messages, wrapping deep thoughts into glorious, shimmering arrangements.
For “Salt Catchers,” Andy Sheppard assembled a drumless trio, awarding harmony and melody more space. Inspired by photography and a particular sense of longing, the music breathes an air of magical realism in dimly lit, breathtakingly still color fields.
Using spectral analysis, Canadian saxophonist Nicola Miller converted speech into pitches and harmonies; using a stochastic processes, she created a new musical language. The results are an emotional laboratory and part of a sonic quest for the unheard. This is what jazz means to her.
Chad Lawson is writing music in the key of compassion. Leading listeners into a place of great calm, his pieces open up spaces to breathe or let go, to focus intently or to surrender. Some say music begins where words end – with him, it starts before they are even released into the world.
New York festival Graphic Content will pay homage to composers Morton Feldman and Earl Brown. Pianist-composer Nils Vigeland studied with Feldman and recorded landmark albums of Brown's work – here, he reflects on their graphic scores and ongoing relevance.
Energy is life. That's why, drummer-composer Niki Dolp points out, too much of it can sometimes be a burden. In his work as a leader, channelling and shaping are a priority, leading to majestic music of spiritual dimensions that ebbs and flows, always keeping the energy contained.
Simon Goff is fond of the word “experience.” It motivates him to write music with the archaic power to transcend the acoustic realm: Scored for string ensemble, synths and 4 unique sonic spaces, his latest work is one of the most awe-inspiring experiences you will have this year.
On Sally Herbert's first album as a leader, every song feels like an anthem for a dystopian movie's end credits. Making full use of her experience as an arranger, these pieces bathe in shimmering orchestral textures, crushing guitars and ominous states of glorious darkness.
Radhapriya Gupta moved from Mumbai to London and instantly incorporated more local influences like Burial's distinct beat-building style into her productions. Having grown up on singing neo-minimalist music in a choir, she has never come closer to realising her personal vision.
This conversation with two artists from Stockholm's rich experimental music scene is a deep and personal exploration of improvisation. Recorded in 2 days and then refined for months, their LP, meanwhile, demonstrates how little words mean compared to the time-arresting quality of their music.
Five years on the road, 11 locations across the planet, a continually changing cast of collaborators, constantly changing challenges – even the EYM Trio are honest enough to call their “Nomad Sessions” a “slightly crazy idea.” And yet, the journey is what makes these cuts sound so fresh.
The singer has worked with house maestro Black Coffee, rising producer 40D and orchestras, emerging as an in-demand interpretor of deep, soulful tunes. Clearly, she has a “big” voice. That's not what ultimately counts, however, she feels. The real challenge is to tell a story and trust the journey.
“Writing is very much like riding a bicycle: you never completely forget how to do it. But equally, those hills are nearly impossible if you’ve been off the bike for months!”
“I don’t ever claim to be a jazz musician and I have tremendous respect to those who do. I consider myself a good friend of the tradition and an everlasting patron.”
It can be surprisingly hard to pinpoint what, exactly, we want out of life. On her sophomore full-length, Izzy Oram Brown approaches the topic by embracing questions as answers, and memories as lessons for the future. Her lyrics are confidently vulnerable - and the music so beautiful it hurts.
Rhythm is a global vector. That's why Ravish Momin's music as Sunken Cages is world music in the true meaning of the word: Rooted in fierce beats, beyond-the-pocket grooves and spiritual resonance, these atmospheric drum studies are physically impossible to resist.
Sensual, resonant and gorgeously layered, the French producer's electronica is powerful in its own right. The accompanying, intricately related videos, however, lead you even deeper: Filled with rich colours, emotive streams and mesmerising movements, they are phrase and fantasy all at once.
Performed using just her double bass, voice and a few effects, Helene Glüxam's “Nachtvogel” is an exercise in austerity. Despite the album's imagery of “night,” “winter,” and “moon,” these pieces do not refer to darkness, but a state when the clock stops ticking and the racing mind comes to rest.
For Ted Rosenthal, the “good old years” are always right now. Building on a foundation of what he calls “the 3 B's” - Bud Powell, Bill Evans and Beethoven – his music is rooted in a tradition of “individuality and innovation.“ There are no borders here – only “high standards.”
Linda Sikhakhane will not be silenced. With each new album, the South African saxophonist has edged closer to global recognition on the strength of creative determination and an intense flow. There is something magical about his work - a transfer of urban coolness into the domain of spirituality.
The Irish sound artist and composer thinks of the pieces on her new album as “sonic phantoms”, creations that behave with a logic of their own, escaping the grasp of our pre-conditioned mind. Instantly captivating and hauntingly elusive, they remind us of the mysterious nature of reality.
As part of an ambitious plan, Josh Ottum will publish a new album every full moon. It is a challenge as much as it is a compulsion and a way of life: All of the pieces are connected, all of the albums linked. The project will change him as a person, he says. If you join him, it may change you, too.
Sometimes we cry because we're happy. Sometimes we dance because we're sad. These are the liminal states that the songs of Julia and Angus Stone take place in. Filled with quiet voices and delicate sounds, their “Karaoke Bar” is a place for sharing without shame.
“I had the feeling when we met that we were either going to make something really brutal or really pretty, and I wanted to figure out which one it was going to be.”
Trust, community and friendship are at the core of Sophia Vastek's work; forces that take on elemental qualities in her hands. Her latest compositions lead the listener into a private place – filled with nostalgia, ghostly whispers and a promise of something very big about to happen.
For Linska, art is the one space that promises complete freedom and does not require compromise. The sonic force of her peaktime techno productions is already political in its own right. Combined with her lyrics, they turn into veritable calls for action: to “f*ck the system” and live your own life.
Lyrically, Rafael Melo goes deep on his upcoming EP, exploring the distance “between the life you imagine and the one you're living”. Musically, meanwhile, his songs feel like a sunny version of shoegaze, floating on gentle grooves and providing a cool breeze in the heart of Summer.
Whatever experimental improv we listen to, what we hear is mostly noise. When we can't lock into it, it disturbs us. When it's Julius Schwing at the guitar we find it fascinating. Focusing on pulse, color and coordination, his pickings create hypnotic patterns that can neither be denied nor ignored.
“Jazz is a genre that encourages us to be ourselves.“
It feels wrong to only talk to Anthony Baldino about modulars. His upcoming album is a heartbreaking processing of pain and loss, a journey to a place of no return. And yet, the tools were decisive: These emotional states come to life only on this canvas and only through precisely these colours.
Historically informed performance wants classical pieces played the way they were in their own time. For Late Bush, meanwhile, any interpretation is part of a “speculative tradition.” His work “Hoarses” creates a hyper-real space filled with echoes of baroque ensemble play and haunting voices.
Does the Cologne Quartet dream of electric Kraut? After a more rock-leaning predecessor, Keshavara have now found a unique voice. Between rolling downbeat grooves, spiritual psychedelia and cosmic sweetness, their songs connect into a mind trip towards the familiar unknown.
Conceptually, the narrative of the duo's “Nebular” seems to take place over the course of a day, but the music suggest a world of eternal becoming, contours and lines opaque and shrouded in mystery – most prominently on celestial 17-minute centrepiece “The Play of Light and Dark.”
John Van Deusen's new release deals with the theme of creation both lyrically and literally by tapping into the cornucopia of creativity: spread our across two separate albums, a grand total of 38 songs and two and a quarter hours of music, it is immersive an uplifting at once.
“Being creative is the opposite of what society wants us to be – it wants us to be effective.”
The range of inspirations on the Berlin artist's solo debut was staggering: Hildegard von Bingen and Vangelis, patterns and drones, her voice and meticulous sound design. The strength of “Starlink” is that it doesn't spell them out but makes you experience the point where they intersect.
If you're only listening to Le Ren's new album in the background, you're missing half (or more of) the story. Written over a decade of life and creativity, these songs use invitingly warm arrangements as a home for confessions told through hard-hitting, powerfully outspoken lyrics.
“Scales and patterns are a means to an end. And that end is connecting with other people in a space that is conducive to expressive music.”
The omnipresence of sound is robbing it of its elemental power, the British collective feel. Their entrancing, propulsive kraut grooves smell of earth and forest, creating safe spaces for the soul. The need for new rituals to give meaning to our life is real. This music is one of those rituals.
For a band wearing modernism in its title, Future3 place a lot of emphasis on traditional values: collaboration, spontaneity, interaction. Behind the dynamic structures of their fusion drift, however, scifi-inspired sound design and inventive re-sampling push the pieces deep into the unknown.
Laura Strickling describes her job as “controlled screaming in 20 different languages.” It's a joke, but there's a grain of truth to it. Singing is a superpower for her, her voice a spiritual organ allowing her to express and accompany the twists and intimate stories of a life lived to the full.
“The idea for my new record started with wanting to actually give our region a real voice within the global melodic electronic dialogue.”
From our mother's heartbeat to the pulses of life, we think of rhythm as an impulse generator. Based on a love for jazz and shot through with his Latin American heritage, these impulses get Cortiñas's percussion-based pieces started. Then, in between the beats, a world of subtle vibrations opens up.
With three different alter egos and three labels of his own, Glasgow's Modat has laid a highly diversified base for his joyful club explorations. Recorded in a not just minimal but almost “miniature” studio, his new EP finds surprising places of stillness in between cut-up samples and warm grooves.
The Nigerian producer has become the prophet of a new kind of ambient: deep, collective and pulsing with spiritual energy. Transitions between tracks are as important as the sounds contained within them, subtle changes taking precedence over both stoic repetition and sudden shifts.
Marie Delprat's latest projects were influenced by a plethora of ideas: The relationship between baroque music and pop, eroticism as a source of knowledge, softness as resistance. This is not about fusion, however – but about the states in between.
Equally dreamy and disturbing, L'Rain's “fata morgana” sees Taja Cheek looking out into the world while glancing sideways into a mirror. Coming to grips with alienation, loneliness and “a world not meant for you to thrive in,” this is the opposite of escapism. This is music as empowerment.
“This isn't easy listening,” the press release to Davachi's upcoming LP warns. I beg to differ. Built from long-form compositions for organ, choir and strings, it is a sensual and instantly gratifying experience that will leave you profoundly moved long after the last, solemn note has died down.
Jazz, Vimbs Mavimbs says, is at the core of every note played in South Africa. After stints with Msaki and Asher Gamedze, his majestic debut as a leader pays allegiance to that bond. Through unabashedly spiritual anthems, it tells the story of his life - from displacement to triumph.
As “one of the first Asian faces in Hiphop for North America,” Masia One has always had to remain one step ahead of the competition. Ironically, the current future-obsession of the industry has made her dig deeper into her roots: ”Lyrics are the quintessential part of being an MC.”
“No matter what's happening around us, we should never stop imagining, creating, and staying true to who we are.”
Recorded during a time of personal transitions, Jonathan Suazo returns with a statement of intent: Ten new pieces with IMAX-size arrangements and flying-carpet-like grooves. Suazo's confident tone cuts through them effortlessly, his solos elevating already classic-sounding themes.
The drummer's new album is a deep dive into the jazz continuum, spanning centuries of improvisation, street poetry and broken beats. From the instantly recognisable snare tone to the drifting atmospherics of the arrangements, it's as intimate as a magnum opus gets.
Mark Templeton's art is the consequence of a strikingly simple realisation: If the medium really is the message, then the richer your media, the more rewarding the music. Hypnotic, dense structures bleed into video and photography, making the heard seen and penetrating the intangible.
Almost against the Irish DJ's instincts, her debut EP “Attrition” is a three-dimensional headphone-paracosm of gargantuan bass funk, twitching clouds of percussive particles and flashes of pulsating tones. It is a return to techno as a manifesto of personal expression and freedom.
Imitation is a form of flattery, but inspiration is transcendence. Polish quintet Omasta weld together spiritual jazz and the rhythmical finesse of hip-hop so ingeniously that it makes you forget about their influences. Their upcoming full-length is called "Hits Different" – and it really does.
Sometimes, the most moving form of poetry is to simply say what you feel. For Catherine Smet of Belgian trio BLUAI, each of her three-to-four-chord song begins with that realisation. The simplicity of the music is deceptive: When they feeling's deep enough, that's all you need.
“It’s a little tricky to find ways to frame these songs in a way that doesn’t entirely suck the air out of the room and depress the hell out of everyone.”
“How sound and music circulate in society reveals the underlying political and economic logic of the world we live in.“
Some might see the mysteriously romantic songs of Marnie Weber as the soundtrack to an unmade David Lynch movie, where no place is stranger than home. But then, Weber is a filmmaker herself, her music's a stage and her lyrics visually evocative enough to paint pictures by themselves.
For his Balaphonic project, jazz drummer Danny Ward maps electronic styles like downbeat and house onto an acoustic band framework. Intriguingly, the more “hand-made” and “real” the music gets, the more dreamlike it feels, enveloping the listener in warm waves of diaphanous vibrations.
The fusion guitarist's debut is called “Disillusion,” but lends a positive spin to that word. Complex time signatures, twilit chords, psychedelic melodies and unexpected power chords shatter the walls of expectation – hidden behind them is something infinitely more rewarding.
“I've actually become less minimalistic over the years. Now I’m more interested in exploring a sound as far as it can go.”
Rhythm is the pulse of life. When playing, Paulo Almeida is making it tangible, carefully shaping the wave in one moment and simply riding it the next. There is no escapism in his music – grooves can open doors to new experiences, but they all lead us back to the wonders of this one, wondrous world.
“A film takes you from A to B while an open world video game just says, "Here's the world. Go figure it out."
Of course, words matter. But for Bria Skonberg, it's how we say them that gives them meaning. Her performances gain their power through subtlety, clarity and infinite nuance. And when, in some of the most striking moments on “Indigo,” she picks up her trumpet, words become entirely unnecessary.
For their latest release, the Cologne quintet wanted their music to float like a majestic cloud. The image becomes particularly vivid in the hypnotic middle section of the record, with plucked ostinatos, tight grooves and the rich acoustics of their instruments create a weightless, sensual trance.
All art is artifice. But what, if the music shatters the third wall and the performance is no longer an act? That is what the dark folk threepiece are aiming for in songs that unfold like documentary-style horror movies: You can pretend this isn't real, but that won't make the pain go away.
Mulelid's new release “Piano, Unfolding” suggests a fascinating thought: That playing is not just about expressing, but about uncovering; less a case of invention than discovery. Of course, the same goes for the act of listening: Wherever this journey is leading, you're taking it together.
There is something magical about the moment when, after a disc of solo piano, Roßmüller's trio rises from a state of stillness for another album's worth of music. Thinking horizontally and painting with light lines, the experience never feels excessive – and more like catharsis through clarity.
Many artists have felt a kinship with the work of Mark Rothko. Marconi Union, however, managed to pull off something quite unique in creating music based on Rothko's multiforms which feels like weightlessly drifting through his paintings – navigating a world of dark colours and emotional resonance.
A report on the greatest performances of the Montreux Jazz Festival's 2026 edition – alongside thoughts on jazz, the future of live music, and the connections between the past and the future.
Most bands think of music as an expression of electricity. To French duo Chevreuil, it is a subset of magnetism – metallic particles aligning into patterns, minds drawn together by forces of sonic attraction. Dark, yet sensual and strangely refined, this is the arthouse version of post rock.
Fiaschi's new work is written entirely around a single saxophone multiphonic which he slowly raises, rotates and reveals. Maximally minimal in its outward appearance, the music is actually a result of extreme focus: ”Many possibilities simply fell away by following the logic of the material.”
“Human beings are creative and social beings. When they are creatively and playfully active within society, they thrive — they find solutions, and they find peace.“
For pianist Simone Dinnerstein, playing a piece is always personal, a process of mental digestion and physical performance yielding an emotionally complex result. In the end, however, neither composer nor performer ought to over-rate their importance: “The music has a much greater life.”
For 90s club act Snap!, rhythm was a dancer. For drummer Marcelo Callado, it is a songwriter. In his floating, sensual world, percussive layers support melodies and harmonies, which, in turn, inspire grooves and patterns, occasionally discharging into hypnotic loops of psychedelic eruptions.
Hana Stretton's “tiarn” is a reflective state composed of oceanic field recordings, her voice and a ghostly classical aria spinning in the background. It may be suffused with warm hiss and performed using simple equipment, but it isn't “lofi” – this is the way she hears the world.
One of Germany's original techno pioneers, Chris Maico Schmidt keeps carrying the torch for some of the fundamental values that turned electronic club music from an underground phenomenon into a new philosophy of life – as a DJ, a radio host or, as on his atmospheric new EP, with his music.
“Financially, the festival is irrational.”
On their “Interbody EP,” Hartikainen engages with a software organism, responding to unpredictable real-time transformations of their sax lines. The machine acts as a distorted mirror, reflecting and revealing, veiling and concealing, leading to places between chaos and control.
Bassist Vincent Rein's band haven't been together for very long. That may be precisely why their debut record hits that perfect spot between spontaneity and precision. This is classic jazz with a spotlight on solos, ample space for individuality and lyrical themes that just won't leave your head.
In the studio, Johanna Summers asked three of her pianist colleagues to play her a classical or contemporary composition as a starting point. Her instant responses fall in between continuation, transformation and composition, liquifying the dividing line between original and variation.
By playing more quiet, the British duo are making their audiences listen more closely. On their upcoming new album, songs drift in between folk, ambient and chambermusic, their voices soaring, the microphone picking up every nuance. It is music that paradoxically feels fragile and powerful at once.
Remixing has long been club music's take on the idea of interpretation in classical music. Fluke are taking this idea one step further by reworking some of their favourite back catalogue pieces themselves – inspiringly playing with time, technology, and the transformative power of their tunes.
A half-century into his career, Bobby Previte is still pushing himself: "For the first time my music is coming through the drums rather than around them." On his new album, he channels them into fluent, focused improvisations, each instrument holding its own space, locking tightly into a mystery.
Borders have never been able to contain the Belgian-Egyptian songwriter's creativity. Together with her congenial partner Samy Bishai, even classical music theory crumbled, as the duo fused Arabic pop with scifi electronica, enriching Western harmonies with a little quarter tone magic.
“Improvising and collaborating together has a way of revealing the better side of human nature.”
It is hard to believe that psych-jazz band Kronstad 23 have so far hardly left the studio. Their record sounds like it was recorded live, their influences are global, their cosmic Grateful-Dead-meets-ECM instrumentals have a rare determination to them – benefiting from being meticulously unprepared.
The producer's latest ambient release is a different kind of summer music: soft and warm, gentle and uplifting, and as relaxing as lying on the beach and looking at the blue sky. The loving nature of these sounds is an effort of “caring for the listener”, “part of a search to change the world.”
The cover of Chris Dahlgren's new trio LP looks like a translation of the music contained within it: Clouds of vibe resonance drift across planes of moody viola da gamba strokes, pierced by playful beams of clarinet-coloured light. Timbre was a tool, emotion an effect, transcendence the goal.
Techno, by its very nature, is a stripped-down art form. With Risa Taniguchi, what remains, is not a bare bone skeleton, but an organism composed entirely of muscle and sinew. All elements are essential here, all contribute to the sensation of being pushed forward with an irresistible force.
Unless your interview with German trio OCTO has the word “energy” in it, you're talking to the wrong band. Citing Steve Albini as an influence on their sonic philosophy and Kraftwerk for their “chops,” their tantric noise rock feels like a reversed rocket drilling itself into a tectonic plate.
Drawing from sci-fi and a lifetime of production experience, Danalogue's debut solo LP opens up a portal into a state where forms crumble and the mind opens up to receive sound in its purest, most powerful form. Imagination is a “radical act” here – creating the worlds we actually want to live in.
Guitarist Kamila Csenge wanted to deal with phenomena and philosophies defying the limits of human comprehension. Paradoxically, the results - somewhere between blissful jazz and progressive fusion – do not take the listener to the borders of the galaxy, but an intimate inner cosmos.
Since leaving the big city for a small island, Sardinian producer Tooker understood that music and life can not be separated. In his hands, a mere handful of elements combine into pieces that conjure profound emotions – and that could go on forever without ever feeling repetitious.
On Kennan's follow-up to her already haunting debut, she dives even deeper into the delicate darkness of her forever-distant sound world. Melodies are whispers here, songs just one step away from silence, hypnotic guitar chords strumming themselves into a state of gentle, dream-like dissociation.
What could you strip away from a music that is this minimal to begin with: An intimate voice, a warm bass, a few sprinkles of keyboard and effects, the occasional drum machine beat. And yet, it is in the moments when the songs just float and drift that the duo's debut truly lifts off.
Donovan Haffner creative life revolves around improvisation: When he's composing, he'll include open-ended sections. When he's performing, he prefers to negotiate the direction in the moment. Even when he's listening, freely played music takes him to places of deeper connection.
The architecture of Francesca Gaza's Crown Shyness is precisely defined. And yet, within it, this music truly contains multitudes, from jazz via baroque counterpoint and post rock to breathtaking exhales – what you're hearing says something profound about who you are as a person and a listener.
The press release to the saxophonist's sophomore LP locates the music between freedom and form. One could argue the axis more accurately runs between ambiance and ardour, restraint and release - continuing the eternal collaborative quest for crossing the known and familiar.
Mason's ' Kicking A Dark Horse' wasn't just created with a modular set-up. Compositionally, it follows a modular logic as well, weaving an expansive web from interrelated cells of innercosmic oscillations. In this dream world of music and an accompanying book, everything is connected.
Everybody can loop a few bars of music. Very few artists can bring you as close to tears with it, however, as Lusine. His pieces seduce you in, then pull you deeper with every passing moment. His latest work brings the background to the fore in a world between ambiance and ambient.
“Silence allows the mind to wander without direction. Sound allows the mind to wander with intent. Both are vital.”
Imperfections, Marcelo Frota believes, can give life to music. That's interesting, since his new album seams close to perfection: Soft rhythms melt into clouds of harmonies against which Frota's voice gently grinds like silky sandpaper – it's the sound of summer, the soundtrack to being alive.
Brecht Ameel and Kim Delcour's new LP opens with a time-arresting, 17-minute meditation on the sounds of the erhu and the renaissance serpent. This is music that is radical and heartwrenchingly gorgeous, both free and perfectly sculpted, bound by no rules yet defining a new language.
"My goal is to make music that sounds both futuristic and incredibly ancient. Like alien hieroglyphs carved in ancient sandstone."
The music of Celine Cairo is born in silence, influenced by the little, miraculous sounds around her: Her dog drinking, birds singing, the noises of her house. As introspective as her songs may be, the calm is merely the tranquil surface of an unfathomably deep ocean of emotion.
"My new album can be endlessly misunderstood. That is part of its concept."
The DJ/producer refers to his style as "hardcore beyond rules." Another way of describing it is "release without remorse.“ Ideas need to be spontaneous and the job of production is to not get in the way, turning the music into a vessel for freedom and real connection.
As a researcher, Mads Kinnerup is investigating how AI changes our way of thinking about music and opens up new ways of creation. As an artist, meanwhile, his interests lie elsewhere: In mysteries, the unknown, and deep, raw, and emotional human connections.
Abul Mogard's music defines relationships between the mind and imagined spaces. In them, everything is transient and very little is solid, sound travelling from distant shores to reach the ear as whispers at the threshold of audibility. There's almost nothing here – and yet, you can't turn away.
For Keir GoGwilt, the task of a composer is to organise sound to create "new constellations of meaning." And truly, his upcoming "Zarabanda Variations" includes a "Baroque Concerto" that both feels like an homage and will blow your mind. It's deep, it's research, it's endlessly stimulating.
Multinational psychedelic rock trio Kefaya and Afghan vocalist Elaha Soroor understand chaos as the food for rebellion, confusion as the true nature of revolution. Their exhilerating new album is a scream against silence, a slap in the face of polite neutrality, world music for a planet in crisis.
“People often talk to me about the way I sustain the silences in Feldman’s piano music. But there are no silences! There is always resonance. There are unanswered questions.“
"I don't always begin with lyrics, but they ultimately become the most important element," says Irene Serra. Her bittersweet new single makes this abundantly clear. And yet, it is only through music that this letter to a loved one lost gets delivered backwards in time.
“Every concert, you are the one who begins. But it is the spirits who finish the concert.“
The immersive exhibitions which Luco Longobardi contributed to as a composer and co-director, create narrative spaces of images, history, and emotions. Longobardi's soundtrack connects these elements non-linearly, establishing a sense of rhythm derived from dance and architecture.
“Transit” refers to the process of moving something from one place to another. On their sophomore full-length, the Italian duo turn this process into the focal point, shaping their stimulatingly anti-formulaic post-jazz anthems into islands on a journey of perpetual becoming.
Fergus Quill's ensemble is more than a “big band.” At around 25 performers, it is a full-fledged jazz orchestra whose sheer existence in a time of efficiency and downsizing is, in itself, an act of defiance. Their sound is pulverising, their noise political, smashing the almighty algorithms to bits.
"It may look a little bit naive and old school in the music business we are in. But I love the idea that Montreux is a place where you can think differently."
The first collaboration between singer-songwriter Elaha Soroor and production trio Kefaya had a meditative quality to it. Possibly triggered by a world in disarray, their new single plugs in the sequencers, and crashes them head-first into dervish drumming and Hazara influences to anthemic effect.
Everything is connected for DJ/producer Marcel Vogel: Different styles, different scenes, the past and the present, life and creativity. To be an artist means to embrace being part of the cornucopia and to tap into the abundance – every track and each performance is a new opportunity for growth.
Steven Bamidele's latest full-length is a concept album about falling in love with an alien. It is also a grim assessment of the political landscape at the time of its writing. The music follows this polar logic: Silky smooth on the surface, it's a call for rebellion and a cry for action underneath.
The music of composer, pianist and Magma-collaborator Jérémie Ternoy explores "how an extremely reduced motif can open up an immense listening space." His new album, a mesmerising trance-pulsation, obliterates cliched notions of repetition, heading straight towards the point where parallels meet.
“Creating is imagining something different, something new, something radical, something unwanted by the powers that be. Creation is resistance, and resistance fuels my creations.”
The music of Philipp Johann Thimm exists in a fragile zone between the public and the personal. Born in solitary night shifts and extended underwater breath retention, his blissfully melancholic songs feed from the emotional energy of friends, childhood memories, and the input of loved ones.
“Please say it to my face,” Ida Sand requests in one of her mesmerising new EP's most moving moments. It seems only fair, as she holds nothing back either, delivering her songs with arresting emotional immediacy. Dressed in minimal jazz arrangements, this is her version of the blues.
The music of the Berlin-based producer is at the outer edge of electronic exploration: Abstract sound surgery meets warm textures, rich atmospheres wash over spaced-out beats. And yet, on his latest pieces, he finds himself “drifting more and more into organic sound territories.”
“My own music is only a tiny element within a vast network. But perhaps it is still essential for transmitting certain emotions from one person to another.”
As a listener, Gigi Masin's are open, but his gaze is between seeing and not seeing. On his LP Movement, an intricate weave of sensual textures and suggestive piano/trumpet licks animated by motoric electronics, the music does the same – putting you in a space between hearing and not hearing.
“Daring” is not a word you hear often in classical music. To pianist Sarah Rothenberg it is pivotal for picking the pieces for her programs: Repertoire too daring for its time, so daring it questions your ideas about music, so daring it still sets your pulse racing 200 years after it was written.
“Songs are a bit like people. Some are lovely and easy to get along with. Some are total pricks.”
With track titles like "Doom," "Evil," and "Blame," Rasmussen's "Inert" seems to be a cycle of dark, autumnal introspection. The music, however, less club-oriented and featuring more of his intimate vocals than before, is dreamy and light, obsessed with love, deliverance, and goodness.
“It feels as though you can save the world after a big show — because we probably could."
The guitarist's new work, written for multi-tracked electric guitar in Just Intonation, takes listeners on a journey into and through sound, spiralling beyond the confines of music. Within the cosmic continuum, there are no frets, just infinite intervals, all sounding together in unity.
Scalameriya wrote and finished his new EP within a 30 hour production marathon. Approaches like this are par for the course in his world of border-pushing electronic music, but the point is not to create systems. Creativity is its own reward, a challenge to be either completed or failed.
Most artists use their personal life as a point of departure. For the new Gipsy Kings album, founding member Tonino Baliardo decided to do that as well, but ended up going a lot deeper. “Historia” is the story of his time with and outside the band – as well as a deep dive into the culture behind it.
In case Zak Scerri doesn't see you, don't take it personally. The best things in life are ephemeral, and to capture their full potential, you need to keep moving. At least you can still hear him – weaving glistening fretboard magic into beautifully grooving, emotionally naked guitar jazz.
“My response is a return to authenticity. To not chase fitting in, but to listen deeply to your own voice and to be yourself, even if it’s a lonely or challenging path. Real art can only arise from there.”
Gary Holldman may not be a minimalist in the purest sense: He rejects creative limitations, loves technological innovation, and appreciates stylistic diversity. And yet, he took 15 years to come up with the merely ten tracks of his debut's warm, mesmerising techno. If that's not minimalism, what is?
“I like to fall asleep listening to old hardcore. It’s comfort-listening for me.”
If she's not teaching ukulele at her own ukulele school or tirelessly promoting creatives, Daphne Roubini is drawing lines between the past and present in her songs. Her new album sounds like a lost classic from the 50s without evoking nostalgia – these are feelings which never go out of style.
The title of Lambert's new album is “I am not Lambert.” Yet here he is: jazz reflections meet soft electronica, smouldering songs are juxtaposed with sprightly chamber music. A playful counterweight to a copy-paste reality, it is from this paradox that truth, beauty and personal connection emerge.
Recorded in a stable-turned-studio, Antunes' new album is an emotional meditation on death and silence. The results are restless, alien and transcendent, somewhere between the sublime and utter violence. It's an act of sharing taken to the extreme - this is what writing about pain really feels like.
Yoga philosophy claims that "the world is sound." S!RENE believes that “silence gives life.” On his warm, sensuous and deeply spiritual debut, he reconsonsiles these paradoxes with a collection of pieces which oscillate between house, downbeat, jazz and indescribable magic.
Mai Mai Mai's work has traditionally been defined as "Mediterranean Hauntology" or “Southern Gothic.” For his new album, Karakoz, an equally immersive and mind-bending trip, he travelled to Palestine in search of collaboration, the sounds of the land and the ghosts of the past.
Can there still be a band that speaks for an entire generation? Another Taste don't think so, but their smooth-yet-hypnotically-funky new album comes pretty close. A collection of perfectly imperfect one-takes recorded live to tape, this is analog soul as a vision of the future.
“When I am performing, it’s like channelling a greater purpose or the spirit or the need to create a transcendent or liminal space for myself and the audience. When you’re in that moment, it's like you’ve transformed your entire reality.”
Time is the medium through which all music flows. But very little music deals with it specifically. On his new EP of ethereal, otherworldly classical ambient, composer Luca Longobardi puts time front and center, creating pieces that warp, bend, and beautifully distort our perception of it.
On one of the most fascinating compilations of 2026, Telva's “Ocean Kiss”, making use of “dirty machine noise, horses’ hooves and an interpretation of flamenco and African djembe,” is one of the most fascinating contributions – entering into a crossmedial dialogue with Gabriel Strobel's artwork.
Marina Trench uses the “quiet euphoria” of deep house vibes to gently massage your mind into a state of peaceful bliss. Her new EP features tracks called “Get High,” but really, these grounding grooves are all about coming back down to earth and rooting the restless mind.
“When I improvised for the first time I found out that I had music in me, that I was able to express with music what I could never express with words, that music was so powerful that I just wanted to play my music all my life.”
When Software's Chip Meditation was released in 1985, it sounded like a future beyond our imagination, somewhere between sequencer magic and man-machine utopia. 40 years on, the duo's Peter Mergener returns with a follow-up – equally beautiful and strangely moving.
To Yui Onodera, sound is “material as an event.” Perhaps that's why his work, juxtaposing dynamic drones with abstracted and yet somehow highly specific field recordings, has found such resonance in the house community: It's the same sense of movement, just on an infinitely more subtle scale.
Only five tracks short, Eoin DJ's latest EP feels like a showcase of their production approach: A laser-sharp focus on groove and hypnotic sequences, pantonal frictions and unexpected sounds, as well as a sense of transportation – all grounded in human interaction and friendship.
Elina Duni has a dual citizenship, lives in a multilingual country and is singing in 5 different languages on her new ECM album with guitarist Rob Luft. Listening to her dreamy songs, gently pushed forward by frame drumming, is possibly the best proof for music as a universal form of communication.
The Swedish DJ wants to bring a sense of true togetherness to the club scene. Her approach: Earlier hours, creative freedom, feminine energy, and a stronger sense of connection on a phone-free dancefloor. This is not another “alcohol-free wellness rave” - it's social, intimate, and inclusive.
On paper, Joachim Spieth seems to be running AFFIN, while Markus Guentner designs the label's covers. In practise, their interaction is a continuous collaboration, extending into visual art and music. At its heart is a shared creative philosophy – and a love for long walks.
When playing the flute, Juli Deák doesn't just use breath – she becomes it. Even her tailor-made dress is an expression of sound, as it moves from an inner place into the outside world. On her solo album Brisk, that stream mimics the ebb and flow of waves. It may retreat, but it never ends.
In the spirit of “being prepared for anything,” Jonny Wartel's latest quartet album takes listeners on a continuous 46-minute journey. Poetic melodies soar only to crumble into atomic noise; structures form, then fade, irresistibly swept away by a mesmerising stream of subconsciousness.
For Niko Kapetan of FRIKO, the goal of music is to peel away all conscious thought. If lyrics are to serve the song, in the act of creation, they, too, transcend their literal meaning. The band's new album is based on this mystery: Why can something to simply feel so profound?
“You only need to look at the world today: all these wars, this hatred, this racism that keeps growing. You just need the courage to write.”
Stillform, the title of Uwe Zahn's collaboration with Yui Onodera, can be understood in two ways. For one, these floating pieces are just concrete enough to retain a sense of shape. They also contain within them the promise of quietude and calm – escape pods from a world in constant chaotic motion.
To pay homage to Mark Rothko, the Belgian saxophonist went to Paris for a major retrospective of the painter's work. Inspired, he wrote a collection of softly intense, gorgeous pieces. However, this was not about translating colour to sound – but about the infinite space behind the canvas.
A core duo expanded to an 8-headed hydra on stage, Fauna practise music as a psychedelic ritual. There is a destination but no arrival - a maelstrom of cosmic kraut-trance incantations daring the listener to let go off everything that still binds them to physical reality.
Some collaborations grow through relentless jamming. Niels Oldin and Jakob Frandsen's started with them becoming friends. Three decades after meeting, their new album with an all-acoustic quartet finds common ground between folk and jazz. It's familiar, yet fresh – just like a good friendship.
As a little girl, the British soul singer would sing to herself for comfort. Now, she is bringing consolation & confidence to others. Her songs are emotional electricity, her voice is a line on a monitor synced directly with her heart – you can't get any closer to her than by listening to her sing.
Political messages in music often feel like one-way preaching. us & sparkles' new album of immersive jazz house is more of a state that you enter, allowing you to see the world in a different light. It signals the desire to listen – this is an artist who really wants to spend time with you.
Ciel and Mathis Ruffing's new EP is a true fusion of two worlds. Intricate sound design and alien sound effects collide with soulful textures and hypnotic drumwork. Especially the more atmospheric cuts all but scream for a full-length follow-up – which may well happen now the 2 have become friends.
“We’re all different, but we’re living through a lot of the same experiences. When the music finds the right people, that connection becomes inevitable.”
In this interview on the occasion of Tangent Mek's debut album, the trio recount how improvisation guided composition and how important sound was to their overall vision. But they also mention conversations, travels, and memories – it's a radical ritual with a gentle induction.
After drilling into the skin of melancholy for years, the German producer hit a vein – and aggression, anger, and inner unrest came gushing out. His third album feels like an effort of staying true to the events that lead him to this darker place – while still turning them into something uplifting.
Some artists have to drill their way into the tanks of creativity. TMBG just turn on the tap and let it flow. Their epic catalogue of sprawling albums is an inspiring testimongy to the endlessness of human imagination – although, as they reveal, being this prolific is not a choice but a compulsion.
The studio is a launch pad for the Canadian producer's sonic excursions. Intimate nightscapes take turns with jazzy undertones, as she channels her love for house into cosmic trips underneath the starlight. Perfecting these kinetic moments takes time – but that's what art is all about to her.
Many artists use albums as a leader to put themselves in the spotlight. On “Cracks in the Silence”, Jonas Sorgenfrei takes a different route: His propulsive beats are the perfect stage for his formidable band to take off – which in return makes his multifaceted compositions shine even brighter.
“I’m a firm believer in the age-old cliché that jazz music flourishes best in dimly-lit basements hosting informal live performances that run into the early hours of the morning!”
Christina Kubisch's work is akin to alchemy, turning “non-music” into “music” and elevating “non-sounds” to the audible realm. Materials and specific sites influence her compositions - to the point where they grow into their full state only at the place they're performed at.
The most incisive moment in Willy Rodriguez' development occurred when he started to treat the drums as the fundamental shaper of time and texture. For him, percussion marks the music's pulse - which in turn connects to the artist's heart and the infinite possibilities of creative expression.
“I prefer scores that don’t tell us how to feel, that support the narrative and characters and allows us viewers to escape without thinking about it. The composer is there and magically they are not, without anyone noticing!”
Akira Kosemura's quiet classic Polaroid Piano is re-issued with bonus tracks and a careful remastering by Lawrence English. Fifteen years have passed, but the music - an oasis of tender, breathing, deliberately anti-glossy fantasies - is still as captivating as it was upon its first release.
The Dutch house duo had a pretty good picture of what they wanted out of their new EP. Then their collaborators inspired them to go far beyond the initial demos. Tweaking arrangements, writing new parts, integrating their contributors' elements, the music spans a bridge across styles and scenes.
The trio doesn't believe in nihilism. Although “we are at a crossroads of who we want to be / become” as a species, the music on their new album was born from the simple desire to write beautiful songs and push their creativity forward – there are still plenty of things that only humans can do.
“I can only learn from the past music, it makes my own expression richer.”
Songwriting can be an act of gaining control, an uncovering of hidden patterns. For Jess Weiss's solo debut away from her dream pop trio Fear of Men, it's the exact opposite: A deep dive into contradiction and chaos, a “current of something much darker or more unstable.”
Jason Lindner grew up listening to metal, built a career as a jazz musician and ended up playing on David Bowie's Blackstar. His new EP with house maestro Jkriv celebrates the intoxicating feeling of submitting fully to machinal groove patterns and glistening sequencer lines.
“You're not selling out your artistic ideas when you start thinking about how to reach people as an artist.”
Salt Queen's Teddy Mars knows all about the power of minimalism. But he is also aware of the potential pitfalls: If you only have a handful of ideas, you better make sure they're great. On the debut single of his new duo Salt Queen, a retrofuturistic drum machine 'n vocal jam, they sure are.
Don't let Anton Corbijn's grainy b/w photography or the expectedly hard-hitting nature of the music fool you. For producer Chris Liebing, making even the darkest sounds has to be fun. To fully tap into this ideal, his new album focuses entirely on collaborations – it's a solo album only in name.
Eshkeri's latest project began with a singularity: The desire to translate the indescribable nature of the soundless cosmos into music. His audiovisual live performance Space Station Earth may well be the most ambitious composition he's ever written – and possibly the most personal one as well.
There is a cuteness to the refined compositions that Emil Mark coaxes out of a small ensemble of sampled practice-room pipe-organs. But the light - literally airy - sound of his virtual orchestra is merely an invitation to go deeper - and sink fully into these rotating cyclical patterns.
In classical terminology, Shane Parish's Autechre renditions are hardly “historical practise.” Performed on an acoustic guitar and in an intimate setting, they're not transcriptions - but attempts to uncover something hidden, distil an essence, explode the shell around a naked feeling.
There is a neglected tradition in electronic music: Writing club music not primarily intended for the club. Jakob Mäder breathes new life into the idea with ten tracks that interrelate and interweave, leading listeners through peaks and troughs, from ambient house bliss to uplifting house euphoria.
To the British songwriter, life is art and art is life. For a recent personal song, he was sure he'd have to get right with all the friends mentioned by their real name. After its success, things have changed: “I’m having to apologise to old friends whose names I didn’t use.”
You could spend an entire alternative lifetime within the pastoral fantasy of Andrea's current album's cover or its soft ambient sequencer spaces. If that seems too long, her contribution to modular label I u we's latest compilation condenses that vision into seven mesmerisingly cosmic minutes.
Cecile's ear's have tired from exposure to clinical, hyper-processed music. “I long to create something that sounds real,” she says, writing songs as a direct response to her surroundings. At the Cheltenham Jazz Festival, she'll again tie human connections live in a way that only music can.
The duo's warm and joyful songs feed off both global club culture and local sounds. There are no borders in their music and philosophy: The studio and the stage, physical instruments or software, machines and human creativity – all of these are equally part of their eclectic tool box.
Sam Morrison makes a “a conscious attempt not to listen to other music in my genre to sustain originality.” You can tell. Although he started as a sidekick to Miles Davis, his latest releases explore liminal worlds between jazz and cosmic electronica – involving synths, flow, and Bill Laswell.
“The music takes you where you need to go,” pianist Marilyn Crispell says. Meanwhile, the intense stillness of her new ECM album with bassist Anders Jormin makes the music feel less like it's going somewhere and more like a silent dance, spinning and circling around loss, pain and consolation.
The Norwegian producer's interests are wide: His Sámi heritage, jazz, translating a painting to sound. And yet, the gravitational force of his beat-driven colour-fields is the power of communal activity. His dream: ”Flooding the world with amazing and bad ideas, shows, performances, instruments.”
Don't just call it jazz! Based on a shared philosophy of finding the good in any take, ZENA dive deep into their Ethopian roots, their love for Marvin Gaye and the perpetually explorative pulse of their London homebase to come up with a both trippy and hip-moving fusion.
It feels almost wrong to talk to Jack Dettling in the context of their interest in alternative tuning systems. A new collection of keyboard works – meditative, mesmerising and focused - doesn't use tuning as a mere flourish – but a door to genuinely new experiences.
Aubrey Johnson feels her voice has never sounded as good as it does on her new album. Maybe that's because the recording captures it with almost anachronistically natural beauty. It's the perfect fit for an artist who considers honesty her biggest goal: “Whenever I sing, I mean it.”
“It's a good thing that the art of songwriting, the art of composing, has returned to a place of of importance and prominence in the modern jazz scene.”
After years spent thinking about and playing with them, Luka Kuplowsky was able to see songs, lyrics and poetry for what they really are: Categories looking to shed their categoricalness. His new album finds beauty in this contradiction and “within the tension of the spiritual and the ordinary.”
Philipp Jung withdrew to a new home in the remote mountains to put music back where it belongs: At the centre of his life. From this rekindled passion emerged the desire to dive into the vast catalogue his label Get Physical – and use it as a tool for discovery and personal connection.
In an age of constant change and quick-shifting alliances, Nico Muhly's collaboration with vocal group The Tallis Scholars has proven remarkably long-lived. A new album collects sacral compositions from a decade of working together – leading the mind inward and the gaze upward.
It seems trivial: without dancing, there can be no dance music. For Berlin-based producer Jon Hester, that integral connection is at the heart of his oeuvre: movement creates inspiration, muscle memory triggers sounds and directions as dancefloor, DJ and music negotiate new stories each night.
AI is being used to emulate human creativity. On “Analog AI,” Slovenian saxophonist Jure Pukl reverses the process, writing jazz as an envisioned product of artificial intelligence. Touching on experiment, satire and beauty, the results prove that you can never take the human out of him.
For Gregory Hutchinson, Miles Davis' influence extended well beyond the trumpet, well beyond jazz – well beyond music even. On a star-studded new release, he approaches classics and rarely played tunes by Miles with a personal mission in mind: “Can we play time? Can I make you dance?”
"I have had people tell me that they were scared and even frightened by my music. To me, that is a compliment."
Brian House thinks of infrasound as more than just sounds so low we can't hear them. Capable of communication at a distance, they represent an alternate acoustic internet. They are also “part of forces of the planet that are vast, agential, and beyond what we understand.”
“If a song has a life of its own, then it is usually because it has a strong will to live. You have to make a decision whether you actually want it to live out in the real world or not.”
Montreux has never just been a festival, it's always been an idea. Now, the Miami version has not just perfectly recreated that idea, but also found a location for it that makes artists and audiences feel like they're experiencing the Swiss original – with an open-minded, local twist.
Some refer to Devin Gray's new trio release as “free jazz.” But the real freedom lies in going beyond the codes of calcified genres. Balancing a constantly shifting electro-acoustic equilibrium, the album is an exploration of something beyond words and styles – perhaps beyond music, even.
On the duo's entrancing new LP, relentless percussion pulses and distorted drum shuffles electrify the air, while liquid Terry-Riley synthesizer sequences and melancholic string melodies seduce the mind to drift. Only one rule applies here: Never, ever the let the beat end.
“Singing helps me process emotions, connect with others, and participate in a collective cultural dialogue. It’s one of the most human forms of expression we have.”
Allexa Nava always felt like she had too much rather than too little to say. Although she has come closer to a more balanced approach between raw expression and careful shaping, the hunger and drive to “step outside the safety of the score” have never left her.
Vanhoenacker's current album takes the cello through new tunings, fresh ways of performance and explorations into aleatorics and the borderzone between composition and improvisation. One thing is clear: When she plays her instrument, it is far more than just “an unbalanced piece of wood.”
There's a story to every song. With MARIA Die RUHE's latest single, there's even more to it than that. Recorded from a place of vulnerability and mortality, her performance is a reminder to never close our eyes to eternal truths: Love is not a weakness and the river of life will keep flowing.
Field recording and playing the modular have something essential in common. They both treat the world and its sounds as an inexhaustible source of wonder. In Tangent Universes, these disciplines meet in a music that is reflective and expansive, familiar and mysterious all at once.
Mariana Ramos' acoustic songs are rooted in Creolan folk. The symphony orchestra, on the other hand, is a gargantuan apparatus. On “Sinfonico,” Ramos makes these two worlds feel as one – binding them together with nothing but her voice and absolute intention.
The songwriter's spellbinding new album serves as a reminder that folk music can be hypnotic and trance-inducing. Placid and floating on the surface, its sound is enriched by mellotron, strings and dreamy vocal layerings. The songs may be cast in a low light, but it's a light that never goes out.
“My fear is that we stop evolving as listeners, becoming sonically illiterate, and accept capitalism as the only purpose for music. A world without music for music’s sake isn’t the world I want to live in.“
There is a place more remote than “Absolute Elsewhere”: The “Paradoxical Beyond,” an infiniscape folding time in on itself, a formless bubble linearly expanding and contracting with unpredictable, cyclical regularity. Bewildering and beautiful, it is home to Morris Kolontyrsky's “Origination.”
When the saxophonist's debut album came out, celebrating her Nigerian heritage, “people couldn’t pronounce the names of the tracks or couldn’t understand their relevance.“ At the Cheltenham Jazz Festival, they'll be lining up to hear her live, transforming complex material into danceable anthems.
Includes albums by Alice Coltrane, Alabaster Deplume, Lia Kohl, Albert Ayler and Tomita.
For her latest project, the pianist, known for her spellbinding quartet, doubled the amount of performers. The creative potential, however, seemed to multiply by much more. Underneath a layer of beautiful songs lies a galaxy of emotional resonance – intimate, imaginative and endlessly inventive.
Usually, inspiration is a mysterious phenomenon for Vadim Neselovskyi. For his new project, meanwhile, the spark was clear. Originating as a diary of the war against Ukraine, PERSEVERANTIA turned into a valve, a process, a space for coping. And as long as the violence rages on, it won't be finished.
Performing in and with nature, the Italian-Dutch project's performances are private rituals of gratitude and giving back. Making music, as they put it, is less an act of invention but of making audible the sonic world that surrounds us at all times, everywhere we go.
“For me, working with cables and plugs is abstract, mental and empirical,” French multidisciplinary artist Ioa Beduneau says. That's a surprise, since his music feels tangible, emotive and magical. The extreme minimalism of the music evokes feelings of introspection – and the desire to connect.
For his album Hieroglyph & Stuttering, Nick Joz invited an ensemble of colleagues into the studio for improvisations that served to collect as many different sounds from them as possible - raw materials for a hallucinatory trip to the border between structure and formless infinity.
“The preached approach now is often “release more frequently,” keep feeding the stream, keep the algorithm happy. I understand why people do it, but it can pull you away from the deeper work of building an album world.”
The composer's debut album is all about size: Its title piece alone is an ambitious tripart composition performed by a 15+-member band capturing the different moods of the Big Apple. And yet, the music feels as intimate as her ritual of a first cup of coffee prior to putting down the first note.
The Dutch DJ and producer's compositional output is slim. But every track hits the spot. Van Hal's perspective is community-oriented and driven by a deep love for the roots of electronic music. Her trajectory may by now have become global but, as this interview proves, her heart is still local.
On the debut album of her new trio, Yamirah Gercke's guitar sounds like it's bathing in light. Luxuriously drenched in gorgeous reverb and placed prominently upfront in the mix, it's more than just beautiful - it's a voice of calm and wisdom in a world shaken by chaos and madness.
Techno started out as a manifestation of the machine soul. In the music of Inox Traxx, that machine is now beginning to speak: Echoes of voices – torn, deformed, and in search of a body – float through darkly lit corridors, as barebone beats pound themselves into a delirious trance.
Initially, the sixpiece's debut album was to contain several cover versions. In the end, the band went all-in on their own material. Fusing percussive grooves with improvised jams and Indonesian folk, it's hard to imagine how this psychedelic flowstate could ever have turned out differently.
For her new collection of whispered watercolor-songs Sarah Nienaber took the term “recording in the box” literally. It was only inside a tiny, sound-proofed and air-tight room that she found the solitude and isolation required to place these dreamy pieces in the right ambient light.
“Modular systems are linked to ritual. You have to enter an intentional and spiritual space of creation.”
The story to Pullman's third album reads like a melancholic novel: Twenty years after their last release and sparked by terminal illness, five friends get together again to record music one last time. The result is a bittersweet soundtrack to the beauty of memories and the brutality of time.
For outsiders, Chicago footwork can seem the stuff of historical essays, caught in a retro loop of tired cliches. In reality, as two fresh and sparkling new releases by Thadz and Slugo prove, the scene couldn't be more vital – celebrating its roots while pushing towards the future.
Just like Taylor Swift works in eras, Belgian duo schntzl create new worlds for each project. After the playful improvisations of their previous release, their latest full-length was inspired by the emotional anthems of Belgian Trance – and the challenge of riding a “bicycle with an oval wheel.”
There's a naked brutality to the explosion of a Nuclear bomb that remains hard to grasp – and even harder for Hollywood to depict. For her new project of chamber jazz, violinist-composer Tomoko Omura didn't just research the history of these weapons but faced their horror face-on.
The New York composer doesn't feel any pressure to write for the future. Maybe that's why the sensual chamber pieces of his new album feel so uniquely anchored in the present. It is a music of intimate confessions and small gestures that coalesce into something profound and meaningful.
6 years after a stunning collection of classical guitar pieces, the NY artist returns with a suite of outwardly straight-forward songs. Drawing from a vast pool of ideas, it feels surprisingly seamless, as motoric-in-spirit drums and heavenly vocal arrangements combine to create a sweet trance.
“Techno is much more than just music,” Myra says. He work is living proof of that philosophy. Her latest track, a hypnotic sequencer ritual, is part of a compilation celebrating leading Amsterdam venue RADION and clubs in general as nodes of counterculture: “Dancing will always be political!”
“Our visual world is overflowing with images that are just impressions. Perhaps there are social conflicts that persist because we collectively react to signals when we should be listening to stories.”
Giffoni's hypnotic sound art isn't born on a grid, it follows an inner timeline. His new album collapses space for a collection of global collaborations. Exclusively containing contributions by colleagues with a distinct voice, the result turned out remarkably seamless.
Dory Hayley's take on Morton Feldman's “Three Voices” follows in the footsteps of iconic performers and classic recordings. And yet, it manages to add a new immersive depth to the piece – testimony to her creed that every performance unavoidably expresses a personal truth.
The new album by the Animal Collective member is asking for cigarettes. As it turns out, it's a homologue for his melancholic collage music: Turning something tangible into smoke, watching it draw shapes in the air before dissolving, leaving the mind altert and a bittersweet taste on the tongue.
The songs of Annabelle Chairlegs are populated by real-life people going through everyday things. And yet, the experience is intense, meaningful and beguiling in a broken way. Playful riffs, vulnerable arrangements, a voice oscillating between charm and pain – it's all about intention.
“The limitation is the art. It creates a universe and feelings around them. Constraints create meaning.”
The British composer-producer wasn't sure his new album was on the right track. Then he discovered he'd already finished it. Aiming for songs, his subconscious had led him in another direction – towards mysterious semblances, sequencer infinity, and heartbreaking ambient endlessness.
When he's not touring with Booker T, the Los Angeles saxophonist contributes to projects by the likes of Pharrell Williams, and Robin Thicke. But only now was he able to put together the band of his dreams – for an EP so warm, funky and soulful that you'd wish you'd never wake up from it.
There are plenty “disembodied” or “ghostly” voices. Xol Meissner's, however, sounds as though it were conversely re-embodied after spending time between this world and another, like a ghost slipping back into a physical shell. Singing saved Xol Meissner. Maybe his music can save you, too.
Patrick Fitzgerald has literally written hundreds of songs, many of them gorgeous, many of them filled with poetic observations. What makes him pick one chord over another, follow this theme while dropping that one, what makes lyrics either beautiful or banal? If only he knew.
Listening to Meyer play his bass is like looking deep into his eyes – an intimate connection wordlessly bridging the divide between sender and receiver. Locking into tactile patterns, then again feeling its way through dreams of baroque beauty, his new ECM album creates a space of deep resonance.
Yes, there are drum solos on Maximilian Hering's “The Gathering.” But so are soulful flute lines and tender reed harmonies; and for every bar of relentless swing there is a corresponding moment of inward-looking stillness. It isn't virtuosity that drives these jazz pieces – but the rhythm of life.
Waan's debut was one of my favourite jazz-adjacent LPs of the past years. Their new one looks set to keep me happy for another few. Drawing from the band's live performances, “We Want WAAN” leans towards pulsation, ecstasy, trance – and the simple pleasure of getting lost in the groove.
When drummer Sebastian Vogel hit the big 5, his friends treated him to a special birthday present: A band. As befits a gift, Morning Stars are about friendship and fun. Songs are loose and filled with gorgeous vocal harmonies – while spinning out into epic arrangements with dervish-like motorics.
Miska Lamberg's “Evening, window” is a gentle obduction into a different world: Melodies drift by like clouds, harmonies bleed into field recordings, cycles loop until they no longer have a beginning or an end. Images disappear until there's nothing left but an ear drifting in an ocean of sound.
There is a rhythm to everything: our breath and our speech, our laughter and our cries, to the way we walk and the way we think. And so, drumming, for Antonio Sánchez is more than playing the drums - or maybe playing the drums, just the life it draws from, is ultimately about everything as well.
Angie Perera's new single is as sweet and celebratory as her previous ones. But the African touch of the beats and the beauty of the lyrics sung in what she describes as imperfect Chichewa reveal this as something different and special – a tribute to her home of Malawi, a declaration of love.
Life is a struggle, life is unpredictable, life can get messy. So why should music pretend otherwise? Delaney Bailey's songs are odes to imperfection, arrows released with love but dipped in the bitter truth. Being this open can be painful – but it's where the healing begins.
“Jazz came from people who had very little and created something world-changing. That’s the part that always hits me: the personal and collective sacrifices it took to keep this music alive, to pass it down, and to evolve it.”
Belgian duo Chaton Laveur are almost closer to the original Kraut spirit than some of the originators. Their songs weave melancholic dream pop moods around motorik groove patterns and psychedelic sound worlds – adding their own little star to a galaxy of wondrous constellations.
Few enjoy being questioned. César Merveille actively seeks it out. “Community teaches you there isn’t just one way to make music,” he stresses, “There are infinite paths.” His new EP is a particularly lovely one – slightest variations in lush, hypnotic loops leading to a place of cosmic bliss.
Hall's unique and moving interpretations are explorations of score and performer alike. He can be 18 musicians at once for Steve Reich, an intimate keyboard-trio for Simeon ten Holt, a human synthesizer for Laurie Spiegel. It's not a question of rules or faith - it's a question of love.
Every project has a color for the Swedish-Turkish polyhyphenate. And so it is with the new full-length of his band The Istanbul Sessions - which shines with the red of passion, the blue of an open sky, the green of rolling grooves and the bright yellow of a sun setting over a world without borders.
After a lengthy absence from the headlines, R&B is finally in the spotlight again. For singer-songwriter TheARTI$T, however, this is not a comeback. As her delectably warm and comforting music proves, a music as timeless as this is always in season.
Krautrock was the gateway into electronic music for the Barcelona-based performer-producer. It continues to influence his work which spans a spectrum from psychedelic folk via drifty dub to house-driven spiritual jazz. It's not about being eclectic – it all slots together if you just let go.
The French producer sees art as a tool for a deeper understanding of ourselves, furthering dialogue with others and advancing freedom. The current obsession with technology and “rational” logic is leading us away from what really matters: “Sensibility and how it is interpreted.”
“Music has the power to shift people emotionally. When you shift emotion, you can shift perspective.”
For their upcoming fourth album, the band spent a year writing new music, then another one shaping it. Occasionally embracing chaos full-on, the resulting pieces playfully twist the song format, blurring the boundaries between a live band and its electronically re-assembled ghost.
Sampling remains an important aspect of hip hop culture. But who is going to provide the material for future generations to sample once the well has run dry? OMA are stepping up to the challenge with dark, soulful instrumentals that feed from free-flowing improv and real time interaction.
The way the Australian flutist describes her hometown makes it seem like the best place for record digging and seeing inventive musicians tap into creative energy stream each night. Still, her own music – dreamy, floating, ethereal - takes listeners to even more beautiful places.
“I would go as far to say that the initial idea doesn’t even matter compared to the transformation of it.”
Piçarra's electronically charged future-rock has global appeal. But it could never be decoupled from his Portuguese roots. His love for music is based on his belief in its fundamental role: “Music is the most rudimentary and ancestral form of culture, a symbol of our prehistoric intelligence.”
Yuhan Su's music is mysterious and magical, a smouldering stream of questions. “I’m always stimulated by things slightly out of balance and out of the ordinary,” she explains, “I play around gravity in music.” And yet, her genuinely exciting new path in jazz always has both feet on the ground.
“Music and dancing are like yin and yang, or day and night — one can’t exist without the other.“
We should be more like children, the Nigerian trumpet player feels: Fearless, carefree, confident in who we are. His new EP of delightfully sweet, deep and uplifting soul jazz expresses his own desire to enter this state and to keep creating without doubt, intellectual analysis and boundaries.
Music is a realm of pure imagination. What, the mesmerisingly utopian work of Victoria Pham seems to ask, if we used that power to rebuild music itself from the inside – extending, through that process, the limitations of what is imaginable in the first place?
Chance is a friend for Mark Harwood. And yet, his two simultaneously published new albums are carefully sculpted - following a psychedelic trail of crumbs through a magical forest of kraut and soft noise towards a mesmerising conclusion.
For Nathan Thomas, the job of a producer is to step out of the music's way. The challenge to give his soulful garage-house anthems the shine they need without compromising their soul: “A bit of refining helps - but I try not to polish the life out of them.”
What is music? Controlled chaos, directed dreaming - or hypermania, as Camila Nebbia's new trio with Gonçalo Almeida and Sylvain Darrifourq describe it: A state of low-level mania, a stream equally capable of exploding into bursts of noisy free jazz and withdrawing into sculpted ambiance.
The word “meditative” is sure to come up in relation to the work of Wilson Tanner Smith. But if anything, pieces like 22-minute drone-zone "Palace of Culture" remind us that meditation is not about stealing us away from reality – but making us more aware of it.
Words can be an obstacle to enlightenment. For Anton Roolaart, however, as for the great Zen masters, the right lyrics bridge the divide between literal meaning and the truth hidden behind it. The doors don't have to be cleansed – just say the word and enter the infinite.
Four minutes into Stephanie Reyes' track for a new compilation of deep, minimalist techno, a skeletised melody appears. Anywhere else, this moment would not amount to much. Within the pristinely sculpted, resonant-rich hyperplane of her music, however, it literally means the world.
Frequencies and tension, these are the two elements that Mathys Lenne relentlessly focuses on while he builds the long, slowly transforming states of pulsation that define his approach. As they end, they inevitably open entirely different ones, as he stresses: “It’s a constant process of renewal."
To Xhato, minimalism is part of his artistic intention: To chisel away the clutter and leave only the essence. Others may have similar ideals, but few take them this far – programming his own software, avoiding samples and spending hours to polish his materials.
Claims of charlatanry aside, Helena Blavatsky's quest for "the synthesis of science, religion and philosophy" seems remarkable progressive. So does the music of the Ghent-based trio - which taps into dubstep and breaks it through the lense of jazz and sonic experimentalism.
To production/DJ duo Lost Stories, production can be brutal - a battle stretching out into months of sound sculpting in the studio. Their collaboration with Anyasa, however, was a remarkable deviation from that experience: Fusing Punjabi folk with aggressive stabs, it was done within hours.
A multitude of collaborations are running through anthemic single “Patasa”: Between leading Indian projects Anyasa and Lost Stories, between them and singer-songwriter Sarthak Kalyani, between club culture and Punjabi folk music. The result feels eclectic, colourful and seamless at once.
For a second, I misread the press release to Heid's new double-album, mistaking “Listening is playing, playing is listening” for “Listening is PRAYING.” But there is something to be said for both, the music manifesting as an epic, quietly focused canvas for breath, sound, and, yes, contemplation.
Maybe "Telepatía," opener to Jimena Angel's new album, was intended as a self-fulfilling prophecy: That in an ideal world, music will be able to express all that needs to be expressed. As it stands, her lyrics remain necessary – imperfect, open to misinterpretation but also smart, deep and powerful.
From Norway to Namibia, from his native France to the Faroe Islands, producer William Rezé has travelled the world in search of the most beautiful sounds and spaces. Many of them can be found on his new album. And yet, in the end, nothing beats the absolute silence of his studio in the morning.
Nightmarer have chosen their band name wisely. Their music can seem like a suffocating dream, ripping us from safety. In fact, it's about the rewards of gaining power through persistence and facing the truth. Nightmares don't visit us – it's the dreamer that creates them and hands them control.
For trombonist Emil Bø, instinct will always trump rules, raw nerves supersede academic theories, and playing take priority over thinking. With trio ükya, he actively cultivates tensions on stage in a state between flow and surrender – there is no “soon,” there is only “now.”
On the new ükya album, Michael Lee Sørenmo plays his drums like a lead instrument, a rhythmical engine, a sound source and a connective tissue all at once. At times, it feels almost like he's tapped into the outlet of an invisible, electrically-charged generator of creative energy.
“I appreciate when the music sounds focused and aesthetically pleasing,” Emil Bø says. His music with ükya, however, is dizzyingly diverse and never afraid to confound aesthetic expectations. Maybe we should have added: Emil also likes his music powerful and full of surprises.
“We are moving toward music that has no precedent,” SYOT feel. As bold as that claim may be, the trio have the music to back it up. Fusing jazz, Korean folk and Dervish-like minimalist cascades, their sound shapes its own tradition in both a global and deeply personal way.
Panøram spent years searching for and refining a personal sound. His new EP shows the remarkable results of that journey: three tracks of haunting minimalism which reach for infinity with ghostly piano clusters, stoic drum machine patterns and alien acid lines.
“Music opens doors to emotion,” DJ Hell says, “Fashion walks through them and shows everyone what's inside.” His new album features hypnotic rhythm studies without clearly defined beginnings and endings - food for the glittering catwalks of the mind, anthems for a world caught in a loop.
On Erwan Keravec's new album, the bagpipes journey far beyond its ancient roots – sounding like an organ or a modular synth.
“If people no longer go to hear music live, jazz is threatened.”
For Max Ionata's current studio project, his trio grew into a quartet. As expected, the result is an expansion – but not in the way one would expect. “Tivoli” has a rich and warm sound, feels fresh and airy, extending into spaces of transparency, lyricism and essence.
The band's latest work is based on Stanisław Lem's “Solaris.” But just like Lem's seemingly analytical treatise, it is actually about love. Indie-rock melts with cosmic electronica, songs follow an emotional logic – and words like “Symmetriadas” bring tears to your eyes.
The German singer's new album contains renditions of classic tunes. But really, he isn't “covering” these pieces, but co-creating them. Deliberately looking for “fracture, deconstruction, the uncomfortable,” his takes playfully pose an intriguing question: What actually defines a song?
Sci-Fi flics like The Fifth Element imagined what music could sound like in the 23rd century and beyond. But why wait? Solene creates futuristic cyber jazz for our current times - the soul that nourishes the heart chakra; the punk that feeds from, rebels against and destroys late-stage capitalism.
IDM was mostly a humour-free zone. In a concerted effort against “boredom in music,” Munich producer-performer Giovanni Raabe brings back the fun in melancholic microsound. On his new album, beats stutter and textures trip – a total collapse never sounded this joyful.
Towards the late 70s, the Krautrock scene slowly petered out. Where might it have gone if it had stuck around a little longer? Maybe here: Zahn channel the ghost of Kraut through ecstatic post rock séances blurring the line between electronica, and amplified anthems of noise.
As an artist trained in the tabla, one would expect the Nairobi-based artist's work to be strongly groove-oriented. As it turns out, his solo releases gently stretch any sense of movement apart, creating long spaces filled with soft resonance and a warm feeling of great expectation.
During the week, Azo is an introvert, visiting record stores and hiding in the studio to refine her galactic electro- and house productions to perfection. On gig nights, however, the pent-up tension releases itself - exploding into moments of intense bliss and connection.
The title of the Norwegian guitarist's new album translates to "Bending, refraction." That may sound technical or abstract. The music, however, defies this impression, creating dynamic worlds of waves and pulses. It's charm that's refracted here, your heart strings that are being bent.
Genthon latest suite started out as a field work project in Niger, then developed into a spellbinding work for solo violin. From the music via the chosen format of a single-sided vinyl LP to the cover – this is not just a statement by the artist, but a representation of her entire being.
Creating music is an inward-facing process for the German pianist and producer. On his latest full-length, each and every drum roll, crystalline piano note and dreamy chord receives his full attention. It was healing to make this album, it is healing to listen to it.
Fernando Brox's new album is a collection of beguiling jazz pieces pierced by short, palate-cleansing experimental excursions into the outer realms of sound. It is a work about “spaces of betweenness” and the power of music to connect: When we don't see, we just have to listen a little harder.
“Electronic music goes beyond the tools used to make it. It’s a way of reimagining what music can be.”
Rosenberg's new trio album suggests not so much a set of emotions as a mood – opening doors without defining what's on the other side. If you feel yourself gazing dreamily into the distance and losing your sense of time to this music, don't worry – that's how most experience it.
The Australian composer sees his art as a form of translation – porting ideas and inspirations from one from of expression to another. On his current album, inspiration by Steve Reich gets translated to the clarinet and the viola da gamba into a space of resonance, and rippling rhythms.
“You can feel the servitude in concert halls. People are supposed to passively receive music in this one way relationship - and they follow tacit rules with pride and the feeling to be part of an exclusive club.”
Diversity and freedom are not goals to the Brazilian multi-instrumentalist, they're results - of an open mind in a city with a sprawling music scene. His new album is a journey from and to places of warmth and beauty with inspiringly unexpected detours.
The legendary Can drew SHOLTO into a world of gnarly, complex drumming and meditative moods. His own work treats krautrock as an approach to music that is anti-academia and pro-intuition, forever circling the point between dreamy trip-hop, druggy jazz, and psychedelic electronica.
On record, the young Swedish fourpiece are loud yet hyper-focused, like a laserbeam hitting your eardrums. Playing live, to them, is a “matter of life and death,” an explosion of styles, the furor of post-punk and noise channelled through the madness of reality.
From Esbjörn Svensson Trio to Weather Report, many artists have left an imprint on Lorenzo De Finti's style. But then, jazz is never just about style. Incorporating discrete electronics, rocking out, and feeling for poetry – it's all there on his new album. And somehow, it all makes sense.
“I don’t really believe in “expressing” one’s self. If I engage in making a song, or a piece of music, it’s not really anything other than a “trying to find out”.”
“The most important communications are endings,” Ishmael Ali says. And yet, his latest release is actually a beginning. Or is it? A solo debut only in name, it features a congenial cast of collaborators and taps into the same space of infinite inventiveness that made his group efforts stand out.
To the French producer, music is a carrier of inner sensations. His albums are journeys through emotional worlds, held together by timbre, tone and wonder. It's personal, it's intimate, it's epic, it's universal – there's something deeply meaningful discussed here that's beyond the scope of words.
NLI's vision of techno is both fractal and fascinatingly chaotic, fractured and cohesive at once, drawing inspiration from cyberpunk and the artificial realm. Fashion, video, concepts and music all seamlessly combine into wordless narratives of imagined multimedial dystopias.
There has always been a trance-inducing quality to heavy halfstep-beats and N-TYPE describes production as a form of meditation. His new album aptly feels like a 1,5 hour long space of focused attention filled with waves of echo, hypnagogic flutes and the zen of bass.
“To my mind, a song is fundamentally a very simple thing; a sung lyric. So what could be more important than the words? Not much.”
Merzbow recording the Sex Pistols playing Kid A – that's one way to look at the roller coaster antics of the Brussels quartet. The furious energy captured in the studio is actually a miracle of polished production – which gets broken down to dark rock rituals on stage.
The Chicago luminary's approach to minimalism is lightyears away from post-classical whispers and academic mindgames. This is techno with a capital T, a funk so acid that it burns, a reductionism so poignant it force-quits the hyperactive mind and submits you to its will.
“The inventive potential of a great improvisation can be endless and ever-evolving. But let's face it - we compose to make cool stuff happen that otherwise probably wouldn’t have happened.”
No one leaves the ELECTROSEXUAL experience the same they went in. Music is the TNT that, far beyond just cleansing the doors of perception, explodes the house that hold them in place. If it makes you feel a little uneasy, that's intentional: “Control creates safety. Energy thrives in danger.”
Everything around us, from a walk in green spaces to the sunset on a beach in Gambia, contains a message. Suntou Susso sees it as his task to translate them into music. His afro-futurism bridges traditional melodicism with contemporary beats, providing clarity in a multitude of shadings.
Let music be the food of love, Shakespeare demanded. In their deliciously seasoned club snacks, the Hamburg duo are following that creed to the t (for taste). Sweet and spiritual, warm, comforting and never too filling, this is house music for the gourmet generation.
Thirty years after the fact, the Norwegian pianist returns to the spectacularly quiet album that was his breakthrough. The music is even more intimate this time, performed live and recorded with a small recorder placed inside the piano – a reflection both of the moment and the time passed.
To Anton de Bruin, jazz is almost like a piece of creative DNA that can be implanted into any genre, group, or approach. It is also about enriching instrumental music with deeper thoughts- turning the grooving anthems of his new album into veritable protest songs.
“A challenge in the beginning of my career was the smoking inside of bars. I always lost my voice due to the cigarette smoke!”
Pirard's “Dream Cycles” were a fascinating paradox: A 2 hours long space which was vast and limitless yet constantly folding in on itself. Her sophomore release reverses the direction: Intimate and deeply personal, it reaches out to the listener – to partake in these memories, to feel the love.
Presence and listening are at the heart of Rachael Cohen's playing: “People repeat themselves more often when they are trying to force the things that they know in to places that they don’t fit.” She still finds plenty to discover in the standards – by making each note count.
Making electronic music, to Mischa Blanos, is both about decoding and shaping reality. In Bucharest, with a group of artists, he has transformed a Communist-era building into a thriving arts space. His futuristic music, meanwhile, turns creation into an act of resistance.
Language came easy to the French song-poet, but speaking did not. Writing, thus, turned into her preferred mode, a form of communication that allowed her to both express and discover herself. Her new album invites listeners into this space through timeless torch songs filled with hope and nostalgia.
Skorts have a sound so huge it all but blows their audience away, stripping them of every connection to their physical existence. In those moments of release, their music becomes a cosmic compass, pointing to the true nature of life, revealing “a glimpse at the big picture.”
“When I have something to create that I’ve been ignoring, it seems to show up as a headache or as restless energy through my body, like a caffeine spike.”
The Philly pianist-composer's first album with his new trio boasts formidable instrumental performances. But it's not virtuosity that makes them shine. Rather, these twelve songs without words drift, float, and swing through hazy, nocturnal dreamstates - each single note taking you deeper.
The Brand! Festival in Mechelen is making excellent use of its limitations. The pillars of its unique approach to programming are twofold: Allowing artists to realise their dreams. And extending the brand beyond the event itself to build networks that can last a lifetime.
Morning Seance about an analog polyphonic synthesizer which “sounds like the future as imagined in the slightly faded, late-’80s atmosphere made of glossy optimism and strange melancholy.”
In purely descriptive terms, the Danish guitarist's fourth full-length offers a moody fusion of post rock and jazz, occasionally drifting gently into ambient territory. On a deeper level, it is a profound journey to the heart of sound - because, “all the music I love is because of its sound.”
In Éte Large, Luise Volkmann doesn't fuse different worlds – she simply stacks them on top of each other. A classical singer performs side by side with a jazz vocalist, probing improvs underpin straight-forwardly gorgeous songs, and private conversations lead to large, sweeping gestures.
Yuu Udagawa's utopian vision of house music is a form of silent resistance against the cruel exploitation of artists. Its intimacy reaches so deeply into the personal that it becomes universal – forever suspended in a delicate tension between “body and spirit, order and freedom.”
In the spiritual house productions of FOUK, compression establishes connection, beats provide bonding, vocals create a vibe. A lot of thought and care goes into every track, but in essence, this is anti-conceptual music, based purely on feeling, bypassing the intellect to open up the heart.
There is no egg and chicken paradox for Ezekiel Honig - idea and execution can not be separated, the process feeding itself. In his world of explorative slow motion beats and textural harmonies, creativity is always discovery, “because we should be making something that didn’t already exist.”
Health challenges couldn't stop Helena Casella from singing. We have to be grateful for that, as her performances with Belgian quartet Sonetos del Amor Oscuro are spellbinding - transporting the poetry of Federico Garcia Lorca into a realm of mystical realism.
Tropicalia, sweet and soulful fusion, hazy psychedelia – the songs and sounds of the long-standing collective provide an oasis and safe space. In these times, that is a political statement: “Art is more important than ever. We have to keep the counter culture alive.”
In terms of quality, the new London Electricity album easily matches some of the Drum n Bass classics. With thirteen tracks of warm polyrythmic pulses and glowing horns, it has the epic scope and ambition of the genre's golden era - while defining a new, soulful sound for the new Millennium.
For Hanne de Backer, everything is about connection: With her instrument, her collaborators and herself. With her environment, the different parts of her life, and, of course, the audience. On her latest project, all these lines intersect and magically interweave.
Florian Arbenz is a conversationalist drummer, a groove instigator with a subtle touch, a composer and conductor from the drum stool. His rhythms aren't sprints, they're lines drawn by an unwavering hand in free form, cutting through the borders of jazz and classical, extending beyond the canvas.
Why is the German pianist-composer publishing an album called "Spring Songs" at the beginning of Winter? Maybe because art is not the weather forecast. It is about anticipation, dreams, memories, and hope – and all the other wonderful feelings these tenderly beguiling pieces convey.
“A lot of people go their whole lives and don’t have many proper musical experiences because the industry is so tainted. It dulls your curiosity to look for something more because maybe you thought that’s all music is.”
For the Switzerland-based ensemble, the goal of their multicultural hyper-krautrock - driven by motoric grooves, poetry, and psychedelic guitar work – is to channel the “punk rage inherent in the harshness of all human life.” But if it simply takes you on a cosmic trip, that's perfectly fine, too.
Homesick with anxiety and inspired by notions of fate and futility, Zak Degenhardt turned his nightmares into music. The organic pulse of his hypnotic techno tracks is the result of a surprising realisation: That, for him, machines are better collaborators than humans.
The musical world of Canadian composer and vocalist Kathy Kennedy is one of radiating "fields of Ah," a rhythmical "Wayonout" next to a reflective "Hatsiko," of warm Hmmms and joyous vowel jams. It's about entering the space and opening up, of leaving codes behind and just playing with your voice.
Technological possibilities have become so overwhelming, Joachim Badenhorst concedes, that he increasingly feels drawn to more stripped-down forms of expression. For his new project Youran, it meant searching for new acoustic resonances in tenderly explorative sound spaces.
There is a music in between the cracks – the cracks between jazz and classical, between composition and improvisation, between focus and drift, between physical reality and the realm of dreams. On their sophomore full-length, the French duo are bringing it out into the limelight.
“People often tell me, “I’m not sure what you’re doing — it sounds complex, but I feel the emotions, the interaction between you and your band members, and it really touched me.” That’s such a beautiful compliment.”
Includes albums by Pharaoh Sanders, Sainkho Namtchylak and DJ Paypal.
Zihua Tan believes that it's never enough for artists to compose new works of music – they need to constantly question, compose, and re-compose the creative act itself. The complexity of that task matches the complexity of the world – everything's connected to everything else.
“Even when I go away for a trip, I rarely bring more than a backpack or a small bag. The more I live, I realize the less I need.”
The French multi hyphenate wanted music that “could be listened to while cooking with children in the same room.” Her idea of this goal may differ from yours, though: “Thaille” is a journey into nocturnal psychedelia, using poetry as a form of non-violent resistance.
Although it was recorded in a historical place, “Ars Ludicra” turned into one of the freshest and most powerful jazz statements of the year, a dynamic space for a telepathic band and electronics. If anything, Peter Evans was worried the energy level might be too high – it's easy to see, why.
“A badly EQ’d sound system is quite capable of starting a riot. I have seen this happen.”
For the French quartet, darkness contain a hidden complexity that's closer to the confusion and chaos of the world around us. Their new full-length is a case in point: Bizarre and brutal, heavy and hypnotic, filled with an equal degree of nihilism and hope, it's a mind-melting monolith.
For most fans, seeing their favourite band return after a ten-year album-hiatus would be a reason for happiness. With the Mary Onettes, meanwhile, it's a reason to cry - over the most intimate and dreamy songs imaginable. Be prepared to get crushed by - and dissolve into - the sound of sadness.
"Creativity is a kind of universal act. When we create, we create beauty and connection in the world."
The new recording of Niculin Janett's quartet has the golden glow of the legendary jazz classics. A work of eight melodically sweeping gems realized with razorsharp tightness is an ode to imperfection - driven by red-hot passion and served with sexy-cool composure.
Sounds are letters, melodies words, beats the metre of the poet. Which means, Liza Dries and Mathilde Nobel argue, that we can twist these components into a new language. Their “Akyra” EP has a touch of magical realism about it, songs sounding like transmissions from a parallel galaxy.
In Julie Herndon's magical Études, her beloved piano engages in an enchanting dance with her electronics, like a synthesizer dreaming of Debussy. There is an organic pulse beating underneath these otherworldly compositions – the breath of life entering and playing with the machines.
“Technology keeps removing limits and offering more options, while we, as a species, seem to be getting worse at making the right decisions.”
“Music is the purest and realest art form, it hits people directly and emotionally. A lot of times, I think fashion is just trying to capture the feelings of what music does to people.”
The Belgian fourpiece don't think about creativity as a routine, or even a gift. It's just something they do, without exerting too much pressure. Their new full-length is wilfully unpredictable, dissolving intimate songs, smooth urban grooves and psychedelic rock into something entirely its own.
Singing on stage, Swedish singer-songwriter Nadya Albertsson says, is not a natural place for a human being to be in. That's precisely why it makes us so fragile and powerful at once. And it's also why her voice may be aiming at control – but finding beauty in its cracks and limitations.
Something was stirring in the city of Mechelen in Belgium. A different attitude to making music, combining craftsmanship with uncompromising freedom. The organisers of local arts centre nona seized the moment. 10 years later, the festival they founded is applying that same attitude to programming.
On “Varve,” Lauermann's pensive cello lines weave in and out of a dreamlike field of otherworldly signals from an ensemble of tape machines and cassette recorders. Based on repetition but never actually repeating itself, the effect is uplifting in a ghostly way – these are the “integration loops.”
Just like a director is challenged to find a new vocabulary for each new movie, so, too, does the London Contemporary Orchestra have to re-invent itself for each score. This versatility at the highest artistic level made it the perfect partner for Jonny Greenwood's latest soundtrack.
“We don't have a special meta-space filled with concepts to explain or justify the music we make. We make music because it wants to come out.”
A visit to an anechoic chamber instilled in Michiko Ogawa a realisation about the nature of reality: “Every sound, however incidental, carries life with it.” In her work, that realisation turns into 20-minute long rituals - impressionist dronescapes inspired by a deep love for small, subtle sounds.
If you love your music, set it free. The Iranian pianist finds inspiration in urgent socio-political triggers, personal emotions, as well as the powerful performances of the greats that came before him. These diverse impulses fuse opposites into a rousing, joyous vortex of beauty.
“I need to be able to identify with the song — otherwise it feels like I’m lying.”
Nature, for Manja Ristić is an intelligent system, complex and cruel, self-devouring and adaptive. Her sound work is holistic, yet curious about micro-environments and their subtle wonder. It is not a product on display, but an invitation for listening as an act of communication.
Even the fuzziest song has a border. In the work of Thomas Howard, that border is a fractal - infinitely deep, returning to the same themes no matter how close you zoom in. Written for an audience of one, it creates a space for ephemeral connection: We're all travellers in life's airport terminal.
Each piece on the ecologist's new album is an aural representation of his feelings towards a butterfly species. This process may have been conceptual, but the results are not: “Thinking and feeling are antagonists. The more we listen, the less we think, the more we are in the present moment.”
For her new release, Hamilton-Ayres worked with a doppler recording of her daughter's heartbeat and re-amped the largest reverb chamber in Europe. The infinitely quiet and small naturally melts into the expansively huge and loud here, sparked by the determination to explore.
For “Idol”, Abigail Toll travelled to an ancient burial site on the island of Malta. The space's resonant frequency would provide the starting point for her mystical pieces built with flute, double bass, electronics, and the human voice – providing a portal into another dimension.
Das Kope replicates the original Kraut spirit without copying the results: looping riffs for hours, soaking them in reverb, taking songs far beyond their formal limits. The results are hazy, laid-back, and otherworldly, yet the sun always comes through – like a day at the beach with Michael Rother.
The process for De Simone's new project was the same as ever: One cigarette at a time. The music, however, is like nothing before, taking the listener through ominous swells, impressionist string sections and chansons from parallel galaxies – to places outside the waking, rational mind.
“The absence of sound or quiet sound does not necessarily equal peace or harmony. Loud music or sounds can be just as beneficial and cathartic.”
There are many layers to Jamie Leeming's “Sequent”, from shoegazing vocal tracks via solo guitar interludes to raw psychedelic jams. But the real magic happens because the music develops a cohesive feel, mesmerising pull and magnetic ambiance throughout – this onion tastes better unpeeled.
Welsh guitarist Will Barnes allows all emotions into his music, crafting performances travelling along peaks and troughs. The latest release by his quartet, however, naturally evolved into a more introspective direction – while maintaining a subcutaneous urgency and pulse.
As a performer playing “the most masculine instrument ever,” Francesca Remigi was confronted with “systemic inequalities and discrimination.” These experiences now form the departure point for WITCHESS – an album of both metallic intensity and beguiling softness that unfolds like a ritual.
The Hamburg production duo don't have any complex ambitions – they just want their music to groove. But man, does it groove. As a contemporary, deep and introvert update of the classic French Touch sound, their new EP sparkles like Champagne and relaxes you like a good wine.
Sounds that carry a personal meaning are most precious to composer and producer Hidetoshi Koizumi. The sounding of a temple bell in the evening, for example, is not just beautiful in itself. It carries worlds of meanings and emotions – reminding us who we are and where we come from.
It is hard to believe that Bandler Ching's utopian idm-jazz-crossbread can actually be performed by a drum-bass-saxophone-trio. The polarities are reversed here: The deeper the production, the more spontaneous it feels – and the more live they play, the more electronic they sound.
Seb Rochford hears melodies where others hear beats and thinks of sound when playing a groove. His new album suitably looks more like a guitar record on the outside than the latest project by a remarkably versatile drummer. But then again, Rochford simply doesn't “split things like this.”
Anaïs Maviel aims to expand consciousness through listening, reuniting the body with the mind, logic with emotion. Her long-form compositions focus on vibration, improvisation, and oral transmission as well as a firm belief: Music can “make space for new world views to emerge.”
Eli Hurwitz's aesthetic is based on two factors: Subtlety and density. What may seem like a contradiction is in actual fact a recipe for dreams on the dancefloor: His new album draws both from the solitude of the studio and the experience of countless sweaty performances in funk bands.
The "third place" is not a theoretical concept for the Copenhagen-based, multinational trio. It is a way of life rooted in a questioning perspective on capitalist society and a higher degree of material insecurity – as well as the point of departure for their stimulating creative interactions.
“There were songs that I had 27 versions of. Over time, I learned to trust my taste and finish them.”
The Orb's “Metallic Spheres” took Graham Nash's "Chicago” for a ride. On his latest EP, B.J. Smith does the same for Billy Swan's cover of Otis Blackwell's “Don't be Cruel” - turning a moving folk piece into a quarter-of-an-hour-long, soulfully grooving meditation.
Jérôme Reuter's entire life philosophy was shaped by music, songs serving as aural Polaroids, documenting moments of pain as well as joy. For his new album, he took this philosophy to the max – re-recording every song, and going through the original spirit from his current vintage point.
Some might say that our times need more action and less art. Argentinian pianist-composer Ramiro Zayas, disagrees. His new album, recorded with a classic jazz line-up but without drums reflects on global complexity with complete honesty – rising above the din, returning energy to the heart.
Technically, Spiro finds, she is “a terrible singer.” If that's so, then terrible technique has never sounded this stunning. But it is certainly true that even at her most emphatic, her performance isn't about virtuosity. It's about telling a story – and making the audience experience it with you.
Chloe Kim's dedication to the drums is remarkable. For years, she would spend three hours each day just on the moment the tip of the drumstick hits the drumhead. But her playing is never just about her personal goals – it's about revealing the intricate details and quiet beauty of her instrument.
Kunene and Xaba's collaborative release is the culmination of a fruitful teacher-student relationship. Reflective, soulful, and sparsely orchestrated, these songs, recorded in a one-week session in cultural hub Kwantu Village, meet at the line between folk and transcendental soundscapes.
On her sophomore album, Caroline Blomqvist allows you into her life – literally, as soft field recordings of birds, rain, and thunder infiltrate the fragile fabric of her acoustic miracles. It's a work of contrasts: The heavy burden of the emotions, the weightlessness of the music carrying them.
The French-Jamaican producer and DJ approaches the functional demands of the dancefloor from an experimental angle. Even if only traces of the original pure impulse remain, it lends his tracks that decisive sharpness – like a burning hot sprinkle of chili on a delicious slice of cake.
In the hands of the multi hyphenate composer and multi-instrumentalist, sound turns into a powerful tool for awareness and transformative experiences. On his collaboration with NTHNL, the forces of wind and metal clash, crash, coalesce and contort into shapes of mesmerising otherness.
“Songs I've written about the environment and society are sometimes interpreted as breakup songs. That's okay - maybe someone needed a breakup song.”
There was no room for experiments on the new Iron Curtis album. That gave the material a laser-focused sense of direction, resulting in a cozy collection of classically shaped, perfectly sculpted hypnotic-house sessions – a romantic reminder why you fell in love with this music in the first place.
Berlin-based Fabiana Striffler is known for her fearless approach to improvisation and her genre-defying collaborations. In this conversation, Fabiana speaks about the art of musical dialogue, the joy of risk, and what collaboration means to her.
Daniel Jacobson has more ideas than he could ever realise. Many of them originate from his performances as a jazz musician, where concepts turn into vividly dynamic social experiences. Others stem from a simple realisation: The human brain is still the most creative machine on this planet by far.
On Lippok's new collaboration with Anushka Chkheidze, lush sounds grow into organic structures, nostalgic harmonies and crackling rhythmical fields. The substance of this world are dreams, yearnings, and visions – forever fleeting, forever out of reach, infinitely beautiful and haunting.
Envisioned as "a descent into an imagined cave," performed with fellow horn-players Patrick Shiroishi and Kalia Vandever, and using electronics as a "kind of sculpting tool," Williams's new work is not so much a dark space as it is a mirror: The deeper you go, the more the demons are your own.
“I hate when I feel sick and cannot sing. It almost makes me feel even sicker.”
Just like great performers keep coming back to the same pieces and make them seem fresh each time, Sarah Shin's approach to interpretation, too, is subject to continuous evolution.. Over time, the priority has shifted increasingly towards the music: Getting to the heart of it and making it shine.
“The man with the golden flute” believes in hard work as a tool to transform talent into mastery - his prolific recording schedule and expansive discography are an impressive testimony to this. Classical music remains a living, breathing art form – coming to life anew in concert halls every night.
Mariska Baars's music is in constant contact with the world around her: The wind is resonating the strings of her guitar, birds are dancing across her songs, and her voice is floating like soap bubbles in the sun. This is radical music: Radically sensitive, radically quiet, radically beautiful.
Mike Parker's pieces mostly comprise of a handful of repeated elements - occasionally shifting, occasionally standing still. And yet, they don't feel “minimal.” Schooled in abstract painting, he prepares his canvas and then steps back – your ears are the eyes, the music's the journey they're taking.
Does Shoko Nagai really believe that “everything that can be done has already been done”? Her new album suggests otherwise. Flowing from a radical dedication to improvisation, it melds improv, baroque piano runs, emotive strings and powerful funk into something entirely unique.
Personal experiences can lead to boring art. As a foley artist, however, Dan Hosh's day job is all about making everything larger than life. For his new project Gold Foil Hum, he took things one step further, composing alternative cues for movies like Drive and No Country for Old Man.
Nostalgia was the emotional mood Portland's Katy Ohsiek was looking for on her debut album. But it is a personal form of that sentiment and the intimate images her resistance-melting voice and tender chords are painting aren't sepia-tinged but so vivid you can almost touch them.
William Covert's “Dream Void” encapsulates his ideals: A drone rises from the void while the drums wait in silent anticipation, awaken, coalesce into a flow pattern and hit a blissful peak before subsiding again. It's his personal take on what Can once called “Flow Motion.”
The diaspora doesn't just describe a geographical distance for Nongoma Ndlovu. It is an expression of her life, personality, and view on art. The absence defined by it can be painful, but it also unlocks the potential to be open and courageous - and find beauty in unexpected places.
The Austrian instrumental trio want their music to match the intensity and drive of a live DJ set. On their new album, meanwhile, restraint was key, flow and ambiance drawing the listener in. This is the deep drop, that moment of eternal anticipation before the release.
The world, the vedas taught is, is sound. Music, then, is an approach to design the world to our liking. In the music of Orphax, all is vibration – undulating, enveloping, mesmerising, the rate of change slowing down. It's an alternative, not an escape: There's plenty sonic beauty around us, too.
The production discography of Lucy Durán is a portal into a world of infinite colours, magical grooves, and poetic melodies. Music is a space for dialogue here, a means of extending hands and bridging dives - testimony to her skills and the power of sound alike.
“Everyone should go to Japan at least once in their lives,” Tokyo's SHIMA feels. Not everyone will be able to. But at least, you can enter the vivid world of her new album which combines sensual groove patterns, folk melodies, club moods and her vocals into a beguiling, neon-lit urban fantasy.
The idea that listening is an active process has been around for a very long time. In the serene, static, and spatial compositions of Ferdinand Schwarz, they finally turn into a living and breathing, utopian experience – transcending our expectations of what music can be.
Drummer Seb Brun and sound artist Simon Henocq found themselves in a trance-like session they refer to as “feeding the monster.” A wild array of cables and pedals created unpredictable fedback loops – and maximally powerful physio-electronic music overwhelming both body and brain.
“We often think of silence as the absence of sound, yet I feel it’s actually a frequency we can’t perceive. It’s a subtler vibration that holds everything together.”
Only someone who takes the roots of jazz so seriously could come up with a vision of the genre this fresh: After getting kicked out of the Paris conservatory, Remy Béesau started forging his own curriculum, built around sampling, beats, deep moods, and his soaring trumpet lines.
Many composers consider making music a form of “world building.” Few, however, take that as literally as Ben Stapp. For his solo tuba live album Uzmic Ro’Samg, he spent years developing a set of rules and harmonic relations - shaping an entire universe around them.
The songs of poet and songwriter Amira Kheir have more than just an immersive quality to them. Touching on jazz moods, taking in her Sudanese influences and moving between silky grooves and ambient stillness, they stretch out to up to ten minutes of pure aural bliss.
On an album of organically evolving botanitronica, the Georgian producer experienced a new, playful side to composition. It's a gorgeous, heartfelt album driven by the realisation that “music is the one thing I haven’t ruined with my perfectionism or self-directed anger.”
Sophie Hutchings recorded every piece on her new album in a single take. The result is a floating cloud of stillness rooted in the natural beauty of the piano sound – and the perhaps clearest realisation of her conviction that nothing in music matters more than its emotional power.
“One night, some friends were over discussing music, and one of them asked what record was playing. Turns out it was two air conditioning systems from nearby restaurants.”
“All life is music.” With Jordan Patterson, what could be a cliché turns into the departure point for a sprawling cosmos where finding exactly the right lyrics is as important as painting your toe nails. Why? Because one day, your life will end - and then, “someone else will sing their tune.”
Marmalade Knives' Clinton Wilkins spent his life thousands of miles off Krautrock's place of birth. And yet, his path in life ran tangents around it – from making music in a collective and painting for hours listening to Kraut records to dreaming of Florian Fricke.
For their debut album, the duo retreated to a small wooden house, away from the busy bustle of their Rotterdam base. Here, they sought to write the music which best represented their identity as “new nomads” and their reality as a creative part of the Turkish diaspora.
Sound, timbre, and projection – these are not theoretical concepts for astoundingly gifted British soul- and jazz vocalist Reuben James. They are everything. His songs make full use of his songwriting and piano magic and the production shines – but his natural voice is always the star here.
Faith Coloccia's collaboration with Daniel Menche began with a shared interest in nature, photography, and hiking, before entering the domain of music and culminating in a work which dissolves tender piano tracks, vocals and field recordings into inviting dreamstates.
As a teenager, Josienne Clarke found herself drawn to “quiet little songs, like whispered confessions.” Now, she's writing them herself, following in the footsteps of Sandy Denny & Nick Drake. Her new album may be called Far From Nowhere – but it feels very close to something incredibly meaningful.
As a solo producer and with his fellow Basement Boys, Douglas has shaped decades of house music history. After a self-imposed hiatus from the business, his new collection of dubby and hypnotic 21st century soul anthems sees him reinvigorated and at the top of his game.
Asked about the future relevance of music, composer Asaf Sagiv finds: “Beneath all of it there is always Void, silence. It does not change. It remains.” “IMA,” a work of infinite subtlety makes us experience this void – its frightening dimensions, its serene gaze, the comfort in its permanence.
Includes albums by Eliane Radigue, Auburn Lull, Catherine Christer Hennix, and Harold Budd.
When Sebastian Wolfgruber teams up with Simon Popp and Flurin Mück, their groove relentlessly grabs-, moves-, and submits you. But it's also light and loving, like the hand of a friend pulling you along. The band's debut LP is an ode to the physicality of rhythm performed as a spiritual celebration.
There's no shame in Jazzy's DJ sets – everybody's free to scream, release, and go crazy. In fact. tears are a sign that her performance was a success: “I cry way less now because I can can channel and release that energy during my sets and share it with my ravers.”
Nothing ever came from small ambitions: A one-woman-performance-unit, ISHA aims to “redefine the jazz-electronic sound.” She's an impressive bassist – but it's really her songwriting-, and vibe-creation chops that make these goals seem remarkably attainable.
For years, Swiss pianist-composer Raphael Loher found it hard to finish his solo music. Through limitations and trusting his sense for what's really important he broke through the impasse. His latest work for tape machine is testimony to the strange magic of his approach.
Ella Walker's latest song collection carries the title “All We Do Is Feel.” That's an apt description for pieces which are, as she puts it, “particularly candid, blunt and lyrically raw.” There's a risk to confessions this personal – but it's a risk she had to take.
“I’m such a sucker for spatial effects like reverb and delay,” Tokyo producer, Ableton-trainer and composer Sakura Tsuruta says, “I probably overuse them!” On her latest EP, however, every note, treatment and sound is at its right place – it's the aural equivalent of a perfect Lemon Sour.
Katy Guillen and Stephanie Williams honed their songwriting and production chops from the ground up - allowing them to realise their dirty-garage-meets-soulful-country anthems at just the right balance between melancholia and elation, DIY fuzziness and blissful shimmer.
Listening is difficult, but when it works, it can take you far. Belgian experimental jazz trio Steiger has put it centre stage in its philosophy, eschewing traditional models of improvisation and taking their performances to places of surreal, charmingly psychedelic wonder.
As the German producer shifts from ecstatic dancefloor sounds towards a more expansive style and his drifting tracks enter the realm of songwriting, his talents as a lyricist move to the forefront. What's in a word? For Steffen Linck, an entire universe of emotions.
“I like to imagine that feelings are made of cerebrospinal fluid! In that sense I also like to think that shaping music is like shaping pulses in fluids of various viscosities, as an inner dance.”
Lê Almeida of Brazilian band Oruã finds inspiration in tragedy, poverty and “parochial and racist separation.” Music is about coping, it is about entering the chaos without fear. Clarity is appreciated, but not a requirement - “good lyrics need to say something, even if it's confusing.”
Music is space to Australian lyricist and producer Zion Garcia, it's “what isn't there.” And yet, the words are very much “there,” right in the eye of his trance-inducingly-headnodding, contageous-in-another-dimension abstract-jazz-hop's musical storm.
Five voices melt into one in IKI, but it is a singularity that contains multitudes. Every voice is clearly audible yet part of an organism, each performer's recognisable yet an anonymous part of the collective. This is the future – envisioned by the first instrument of all, the human voice.
The collaboration between Pontoppidan and Rønn has developed into a unique musical dialogue, blending acoustic experimentation with electronic textures. They move between improv, prepared piano, voice processing, and open exploration – with curiosity and playfulness at its core.
Each krautrock release takes Marco Campitelli to strange new worlds. His music is akin to astral travelling, requiring a “good dose of crazyness” from the performers. His upcoming full-length has the mind-shifting power of an ayahuasca trip and the physical force of a sledgehammer.
Some still think composers spend their days locked away and dipping their quill in ink. Over the past year, however, Amelia Clarkson has spent more time travelling than behind her desk. Movement plays a pivotal role in her work – both when it comes to the music and getting it performed.
“I fall, constantly. There’s no bottom to my fall, except, death.”
On Simon Popp's new release, his trio with Flurin Mück and Sebastian Wolfgruber drum, brush, and shake their way towards complete unity, to the point where the borders between tension and release, storytelling and movement in time are crumbling.
KAU are associated with the Brussels sound and its community of jazz-leaning creative explorers. Still, the trio's sound is as personal as it is unmistakable, carving alien analog synth textures and sci-fi melodies out of hypnotic groove-oriented jams.
“It doesn't matter” is the title of one of Ida Stein's darkly alluring electro-pop anthems. In fact, nothing could matter more. Writing and producing her deeply atmospheric, intricately detailed debut album turned into a mission statement, the songs into revelations at the border of chaos and hope.
Neither geographical distance nor social distancing could keep Letters from Nowhere apart. Working with a concept they refer to as “performing with our past selves,” the musicians create improvised movements that cherish uncertainty but are never ashamed of beauty.
The once close bond between folk and classical music has been all but severed. In the oeuvre of Jamie Duffy it is making a welcome and entirely un-cliched return. Mostly based on piano, tin whistle, and strings, it focuses on intimacy and melody – held together by Irish storytelling magic.
Small events made the guitarist of experimental rock band torpedo realise that we can communicate with birds, hear the wishes of plants and see the global implications of small-scale tragedies for life on this planet.
Guitarist Augusto Baschera moves fluidly between classical tradition and jazz. APÓCRIFO, an expansive, emotional, and ambitious work of complex drumming and Augusto's multidimensional lines is testimony to a mind without borders: “Anything that can be turned into music inspires me.”
There's the joy of release on the Kurdish-Dutch songwriter-poet's new album, but there is also, on slow-smouldering anthems like “Can,” a sense of something pent-up pushing to the surface. These are the points where vulnerability turns to empowerment, anger is a form of love.
The Réunion songwriter was deeply inspired by the Island's sacred spaces and the power of his first percussive instrument, the roulèr. Integrally fusing subcutaneous shuffles and high-speed rhythms with polyvocal sweetness, he creates spiritual music with a lyrical grounding.
For their new album, the duo covered Jefferson Airplane's classic "White Rabbit.” Astoundingly, their version turned out to be even more psychedelic and otherworldly than the original. Spirituality has little to do with it – it's all about “love, religion, and the nature of truth.”
In an ideal world, Matthew Ryals wouldn't need the modular anymore. Working his way towards an increasingly immediate way of interacting with his instrument, he is gradually approaching the point where voltage is his material, and electricity becomes a music of a strange, bewildering grace.
Recorded in a barn reminiscent of the one used on Neil Young's Harvest LP, Löwenzahnhonig's new album is a feathery, folky fairytale-fantasy-world of "skylinekisses," "heavy pink snowflakes," and "fondue sandwiches." You can hear a band playing softly – that's all there is, that's all that matters.
Expanding towards black metal, shoegaze, and crust punk, Agriculture's music is constantly at the verge of either exploding or collapsing. Lyrics lend as much direction and consolation to this vast expanse as they add to the confusion – you can't expect to go through purgatory without a little pain.
Kneebody are a force of nature, sculpting a massive man-machine sound driven forward by relentless grooves. And yet, this isn't just a vulgar display of power – even at their most ferocious, it is the notes between the notes that make the quartet stand out.
“Michael Rother gave me a NEU! T- shirt once. But I’m not a collector and I am not out to copy anything.”
The Rudolf Steiner House is an actual place. But for the Polish band, it is also a point on their creative topography: It rose from the subconscious and started manifesting itself in an autumnal song cycle of sullen chords, sweet vocals and echoes of The Smiths and The Cure.
The Danish duo feel that emotions are in the music and their role as performers is merely to play it to their best of their abilities. That may seem like a rather cool perspective. So how come their jazzy blend of warm synths and pastoral acoustic resonances feels so damn romantic?
The Dublin duo don't need words to get their feelings across. Their enigmatic, enveloping take on techno embraces a free drum grid and is driven entirely by emotion - tempetuous basses pushing melancholic clouds of melody across a horizon in a state of eternal sunset.
This trio's a hungry beast. Hungry for connection, hungry for a release that only this constellation can provide. It is a sound of plucks, patterns and pulses, a sound of trust growing through absence, nourished by the energy built when individual voices meet again after time spent apart.
Krautrock fans like to dream about the golden years. José D’Agostino is actually living them. His former band Go-Neko! was built on a 70s-like communal spirit and his solo work, which he labels “dreamykraut,” relies on constant creation – pushing the motorik into your feet and utopia into your mind.
Rachel Eckroth is taking jazz out of the box again. You can feel the physicality of the players, their breath, the suspense in the space. Despite her love for electronic world building, this is what it's all about: “I can’t imagine making music and never performing it in some way."
“Trying to be in control in an improvised context doesn't make sense.”
Lober's new album reveals itself gradually, shedding its layers with extreme care and consideration. Recorded during a time of personal loss, the music has the soft tonalities of a green tea without losing its impact: In a world of delicate gradations, it's the subtle movements that hit you hardest.
A cover reproduction of Miles Davis's On the Corner hangs on Sergio Merce's studio wall. His music, however, is already round the bend. There is melody in these monumental, slow-breathing soundscapes – but their contours are opaque, shifting at the speed of tectonic plates.
Amalgamating global influences into a personal background shaped by the supernaturally tight machine grooves of the MPC, Siselabonga drummer Fabio Meier's virtuosity manifests itself in its servitude to the song: First, you embody the world, then you strip it down to the core.
For ten years, Cheryl E. Leonard interacted with glaciers, listening to- and recording them, playing near- and entering into collaboration with them. Compositions or documents? Sounds of the earth or human creativity? Here, you don't have to decide.
The Sicilian songwriter's new work is a concept album which started with a question: “What does it mean to be an island?” Blending different languages, fragile folk and swelling sci-fi synths, the album's borderlessness instils a sense of hope: This is what it feels like not to be an island.
On their debut-abum, tri-continental trio Mother Tongue are exploring the unexpected. Sometimes, the spirit leads them to trance-inducing dervish grooves, at other times to straightforward song. It's a sound without borders, it's a music of infinite possibilities.
Some producers struggle with over-seriousness. Not Invexis. His hard-hitting, high-octane techno sound is the result of a playfully open-ended process. One of his new tracks kept joyfully shapeshifting for an entire year – clearly, the journey is the reward here.
One reason for Jason Dungan to assemble a band was the blissful feeling of hearing his music performed in a vivid, dynamic group constellation. And yet, the all-acoustic material with the ensemble – subtle, delicate, bitter sweet – has the same time-arresting intimacy of his solo recordings.
The artwork of Kai Craig's new LP has an anachronistic beauty to it, the sound is warm and rich. Clearly, the drummer feels a love for the jazz tradition. Still, when it's time to play, all of this is forgotten, giving way to a vital realisation: This moment, once passed, will never return again.
Some of the intense, frenetic energy that he contributed to David Bowie's "Darkstar" is also present on Donny McCaslin's “Lullaby for the Lost.” But the album also hits plenty of the tones and timbres in between, creating a fulminant and deeply fulfilling fanfare for the found.
Spontaneity is their approach, surprise a goal, radical contrast a technique: The Berlin-via-Johannesburg duo write songs that use sweet melodies and vocal camaraderie to descend into noise, chaos and hysteria.
Dub is the thread weaving Mohajer's activities together – creating dynamic spaces extended into tidal infinity. In this interview, she reveals her background in a punk rock girl band, her experience with a moved eardrum and her worst nightmare as a DJ.
Revolving an unlikely set of influences like Sisters of Mercy, “Cold Oi” and Chappel Roan, the Cologne-based band consider themselves one of the least fashionable formation imaginable – but was there ever a better time for raw, bloodletting songs about death, and the end of everything?
You don't have to read this interview about Billianne to get to know her – just listen to her sing. Moving from pure folk to a more multifacetted approach, her debut record began with the challenge of writing catchy melodies for her lower register – and ended with the triumph of a personal sound.
After an album dealing almost entirely with military aggression, pianist-composer Svetlana Marinchenko has shifted her focus towards polyrhythmic structures and working with electronics. The band is her laboratory - and the music an experiment constantly at the cusp of combustion.
The Moroccan producer builds sonic utopias from field recordings, found sounds and ferocious groove patterns. Listening is never passive, it's never just one thing – it's healing and transformative, questioning and consoling. As he puts it, it's “a way to read and understand the world around us.“
Continuing the spirit of its quasi-legendary predecessor Synästhesie, the 8mm Festival is committed to remaining an island of underground culture amidst Berlin's rapidly arts-unfriendly conditions.
In Stockholm, Lina Langendorf's uncompromising presence has become the stuff of local legend, her axis with African jazz a global force. A song, a gig, an album, a solo – they all have a beginning. But if it were up to the saxophonist, they would never come to an end.
If you never stop singing, then life turns into a song and every note has meaning: Singing soul, rnb and jazz for tips for hours each day, Marquis Fair secured a recording deal and found a second home in Switzerland. His voice, however, has never lost touch with the street.
Hafana's new album is called “Angel,” a typical title for a harp-led work. For the artist, however, the pieces, which grew from a single inspirational seed, are an ironic take on the cliches associated with the instrument: When it's dark, it's dangerously easy to confuse a demon for a sprite.
As a teen, Yttling slipped into the local jazz club. Later, he studied with the legendary Esbjörn Svensson. Still, as he stresses in this interview on his new album – an electrically charged oscillation between euphoria and melancholia – all that matters is for things to sound “free and cool.”
One of the latest Brothers Nylon tracks was named after a stimulating substance. Which seems apt: Even at its most chilled and dreamy, the duo's instrumental 70s-soul-funk comes with a dab of chilli, cinematic vibes and the thrill of a deeply resonating espresso high.
No interpretation is ever definitive for ELECTRIO. And so, they re-imagined pieces by Dowland and Monteverdi, bridging centuries and crossing the divide between the electronic and the acoustic. The result is a transfixing triumph of the imagination, washing over you like a timeless tidal wave.
“Maybe AI can be a coach, a guide, a plugin. But it would never invite me over for fennel tea.”
The Indonesiam trio play deliciously spacey, drifting, downbeat synth-fusion. But their debut album is a warning about the desertification of tropical forests. It is a subversive form of activism – opening the mind up with kindness but never letting go of the message.
Many listeners experience mental images. But can the feet of dancers, too, sense the impulse behind a beat? In the music of Closet Yi, scenes, sounds, and sentiments collected while traveling translate into a architectural web of urban patterns – percussive, visionary, and beguiling at once.
Lady Wray started singing in church as a girl. Still to this day, she considers her voice a blessing and part of a ritual the world needs to keep from turning into a dark and barbaric place. It's all about sharing – you can't listen to her perform and leave without taking a piece of her with you.
Who's the person on the cover of Carr's new album? It's the artist, his face lit up by two neon beams. But it's also the departure point for the music which grew as a score around the image. And once it was done, the man on the photo had become someone else, a listener lost in the songs.
“I’m not sure we’re the right people to be asking what jazz means today,” the Australian quartet feel. Or maybe it's the other way around. Their new release is a post-production tour de force involving improv, electronic tools and constant transformation – where else would jazz happen, if not here?
In the club, dancers have been seen struggling to find the movements to match the Colombian producer's beats. At home, however, and ideally under a pair of immersive headphones, his music takes on the kind of soothing quality that some dystopian sci fi flicks convey.
Many artists have described the creative spark as receiving a “transmission.” Emma Rawicz is one of the few where you can still sense this spark of the “beyond” in the finished work. Her music lives in a Murakami'ean dream state where jazz and magical realism blend into something uniquely her own.
When the backing band to some of Asheville's most charismatic vocalists goes instrumental, the music takes flight. Focusing on a cool kind of passion and a laid-back hip-hop-vibe, Sugar Bomb are errupting into a danceable and slow-simmering, red-hot lava stream of infectious grooves and organ solos.
There's an easy way of playing the drums. And then there's the way Anthony Laguerre prefers to do it: Inseperably interlocked with the other instruments, tapping into the infinite palette of percussion to transform and resonate “timbre, dynamics, spectrum and the space in which it all happens.”
Once the NYC vocalist removed all lyrical filters, the songs for his new EP started pouring out. Some of the underlying themes were deeply private, introspective and reflective – which didn't keep the sessions from yielding joyous, life-affirming, 90s-tinged hip-hop, rnb and house.
The guitarist is neither afraid of tapping into the past, nor is he nostalgic about it. On a live album of standards, originals and unexpected covers, the swing always comes first, but nothing hits you like his nonet's cover of “In a Silent Way” - it ain't worth a try if it can't make you cry.
Charmaine Lee thinks of sound as “something that can be shaped, pressed, and stretched, but never held still.” Her voice binds all the aspects of this unique material together: It is its source, a resonator, transformer and a magnifier – searching for patterns in a state of constant surprise.
Includes physical sound experiences by Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Nirvana, Amenra, Hania Rani, and Lori Goldston.
Listening to Pavon's studio album “Born With Heartbreak” delivers an equally beautiful and brutal blow of energy. And yet, it's only a backwards translation of the emotional storm unfolding when she performs live. There's no wrong or right here, as long as it moves you.
On “ok”, the trumpet-poet dives deep into analog synths and global collaboration, shaping a collection of centrifugally spiraling pieces held together by the gravitational force of his personality. daoud has been called “the problem child of jazz” - this album rather sounds like the solution.
Instrumental hip-hop was supposedly the first genre to fall prey to AI. In the hands of Benny Sings, it may turn out to be a stronghold. The Dutch producer approaches samples and beats like a songwriter would his guitar, capturing moments of blissful simplicity with a high degree of spontaneity.
Carmen Electro is bringing house back to its beginnings: A producer in the intimacy of her studio, with nothing but an idea and the urge to create. There's something political about her soft anthems about friendship and private passions: “Don’t let the tech giants choose your sound for you.”
"Every stage of my life has been a kind of unlocking," the Venezuelan singer says, "moving me closer to where I truly want to go." On her solo debut, that goal is now right in front of her: Jazz and South American folk, African rhythms and rock riffs, humour and tears all have their place here.
Björn Lücker felt as though he had no gift for the drums. His creative battle with obstacles attuned him to the intricate details of his instrument and the ability to consider himself not just a rhythm machine, but part of an ensemble – creating a feeling he likes to call “panoramic.”
Think of an incredible jazz singer. Then, imagine what they would sound like with all of the cliches removed. On her new album, Yumi Ito's voice, captured with vintage microphones and embedded into a space of warm resonance and reverb, is right in front of your ear, every emotion magnified.
“Tech has been very bad for music. There is great music still being made and released in isolation - but the ratio of good to bad has declined precipitously.”
On composer Christopher Stark's latest long-form work, he confronts an acoustic ensemble with piercing white noise and luminescent electronic sequences. It's not a denial of the confusion and chaos our data-driven world has created – but it does make it feel a lot more beautiful.
Isabelle Duthoit finds a lot of inspiration in Japanese theatrical traditions. But her performance, as dramatic as it may be, is neither acting nor storytelling. Bypassing language and returning to the archaic voice of visceral emotion, her vocals take the listener back in time and deeper inside.
The sets of the Dutch DJ are journeys built on patience and tension, on the constant subtle fluctuation between a sweet, ethereal flow and the grounding gravitational pull of powerful pulses. This is not escapism – it's reality as a dream of a better world.
With nothing but a guitar, the occasional drum machine and sustained harmonics, Jamie's “Across a Violet Pasture” is painting worlds at the border between waking and sleeping, life and death. You can check in anytime, but these are not places you'll ever arrive at – you can only leave.
The Brussels trio delivers the true Late-Night-Jazz. Based on dreamy piano licks, trance-inducing drumming, spiritual basslines and phantasmagoric synths, this is the soundtrack to a night filled with promises, headed for a morning that will never come.
“Tears in stardust, falling from my eyes // Your absence - a void in starlit skies.”
Music is vibration transmitted through the air, it is emotion made physical. That's why Danish bassist Ida Nielsen will always prefer the stage over the couch and performance over production – when the connection with listeners is most direct, the rawness of her funk just hits you harder.
The Danish bassist's output seems to progress in numbers: His ensemble is called “3 Elements,” his electro-acoustic trio Planet B's new work will be released on 4 records over 4 years. His music, however, is an attempt not to be overly conceptual – and to return to the timeless mystery of art.
Written during the most challenging period of her life, Camilla's new album deals with pain and the finiteness of human existence in an equally extreme and relatable way. There are no certainties in these razorsharp, and brutally fragile songs except one: Right now, in this moment, we are alive.
The third instalment of the German producer's Italomania series once again manages to marry red-hot passion with the tongue-feeling of a cool rosé. What sets great Italodisco apart from mediocre one? For Modica, it's all about the difference between “the vertical and the horizontal.”
Making music, to Indian-American producer Kush Arora, means placing energy at the right spot – or creating new ones for it to inhabit. Born in live situations and hyper-saturated with noise, the results have a meditative, hypnotic quality about them – although they have got him threatened as well.
“It’s all about gongs,” Alex Lavery says about his project with James Ford. And yet, with a small ensemble ornamenting the powerfully sustained drones, it is about a lot more and something deeper as well: Creating “epiphanies, creative solutions or a reset, all from the power of sound.”
“Art is similar to archeology,” percussionist and composer Sébastien Forrester reflects. On his new album, you can hear him digging, scraping off the dust, revealing hidden layers. Only, these aren't fossils: Nervously twitching, they are brimming with barely contained, primal kinetic energy.
Avidan has a voice like no other. But he takes it through hell, straining and crooning, purring and seducing. Sometimes, the need to sing extends beyond his vocal limits, yet there is no alternative: Singing means expressing himself to himself and to the world in a bid of making it more bearable.
Spiritual jazz can get nigh-symphonic. For Blue Earth Sound, James Weir was looking for something more intimate. Mostly built around sweet piano riffs, soulful drums, and blissful flute and brass, the music takes you to safe places of healing and comfort.
What's in an image? For Fenge's new EP, the cover was there first to which the Leipzig producer composed the music. Performed on acoustic instruments and vintage synths and recorded with a small portable recorder, it is lovely and mysterious – and conjures up new mental images inside the listener.
The titles of her pieces are a source of inspiration for Gisela Horat's explorations. The name of her new trio album – Live in Leipzig – is a carte blanche for her imagination, a screen onto which the pianist projects hallucinatory patterns of melodies, moods, and subcutaneous pulses.
Black Polish freely admits that hate comments spurn her on. But she's not out to get anyone down. To the contrary, songs like her anthemic, slow-simmering single “Bondage” create communities for coping: When the lights are out, the darkness draws us closer together.
Contradictions are not just a spice for Sijya's ambient trip hop songs. They're the meat and bones. Blissed-out bass drums and far-away percussion beat out slow rhythms, faintly glistening synths suggest film-noir-moods - while the words revolve around the "hellishness and wonders of the mundane."
Great albums can seem to live in unique acoustic worlds or dimensions of their own. The new múm certainly does. Recorded in an Italian vineyard, it took the band away from Iceland's wind and water and towards an oasis of peaceful distortion, babbling modulars and sympathetically overlapping voices.
“When you don’t have a machine behind you with capital and influence, there are only two choices—remain idle and do nothing, or stop at nothing until you win.”
For São Paulo songwriter Gab Ferreira, the stage is not the place to hold back and songs aren't vessels for coded messages. Her music's intimacy is like the top of an iceberg rocked by wild undercurrents and hot, submarine volcanic activity – cool to the touch, but ready to explode at any moment.
The influences of the Belgian sixpiece are hyper-local and ultra-international at the same time. Rooted in the city of Antwerp, its music fuses influences across eras and beyond borders: “The wider the spectrum, the greater the possibilities.”
Includes sonic archiving by Eno/Byrne, Maqam-meets-rock collisions by Secret Chiefs 3, the textural sonics of Amon Tobin and Badawi's dark Moroccan electronics.
You can't scream for peace. And so, Cecilie Strange is envisioning jazz as a space for serenity and beauty, where drifting sax passages and kalimba pulses are gently moved by cool piano flourishes and the sound of loving brushes caressing the cymbals. This is utopia in a cupped hand.
The Berlin trio started as a tribute to Edgar Froese and Tangerine Dream. But they're not nostalgic. Using a combination of synths, guitar, and laptop, they're exploring how far cosmic sequencer music can go without repeating itself or loosing its original spirit.
"Don't dream big 'til you can handle small things," Shad advises. His personal brand of hip hop embraces music as the soundtrack to the imagination. It zooms in on the tiniest of details – the undercurrents of fear, love, and pride that make us who we are.
Butler wants to express many different energies at the same time, even seemingly contradictory ones. The intention is always the same: To create songs that are “dense, rich, textured and expansive”, songs that you can feel in your head and your heart, that are larger than life.
Kang's music transcends time, his language is as inclusive as it is impenetrably personal. On his upcoming release “Riparian,” an endless dialogue between plucked and bowed strings opens up sparse fields beyond time, reaching for the point where the parallels meet and space folds back on itself.
The trio started while touring abroad in a station wagon. The lack of space, the enforced gear minimalism, and the constant change of scenery resulted in a homesick album of sweet timbres and flowing rhythms, powered by a love for krautrock, prog, 90’s house, trip hop, “and all things psychedelic.”
There's a 16 year gap between Kocher's last solo album and his new one. The accordionist has used the time well and charged his improvisations with playful twists and turns. There's no need for amplification or effects. Everything he needs is right here, within the sounding body of his instrument.
To lend that defining organic quality to his acid-splashing electronica, producer and soundtrack composer The Liquid Dude draws the conviction that “sound is as much science as it is art” - as well as intense real-life experiences: Journeys to the arctic, volcanoes erupting right in front of him.
Even when the Ottawa composer's pieces for small ensembles take visual cues from paintings or movies, what makes them so distinct is a magical confluence of vibration, mood, and resonance, a particular folding of time that is unique to music and never fully reveals its mystery.
For a long time, Nils Kugelmann couldn't decide on an instrument. Maybe that's why, today, his double bass playing frequently crosses from percussive grooves via warm harmonies into melodic territory. His trio's latest album on ACT isn't just tight – instrumentally, it's hyperdimensional.
David Lee Myers is intrigued by the sounds of suspension bridges. Somehow, that shines through on Terrenus, an album which makes tones sing and frequencies dance. It may feel abstract to some, but really, it isn't – this is what the world sounds like to those willing to listen.
“You Heartbreaker, You” is an album to surrender to, to become obsessed with, to play so loud it's painful. Born from intense riffs and the urge to write a crushing guitar record, Beth's songs unfold like apocalyptic cleansings rituals about love, frustration and alternative sexuality.
Hilgeum are performing on gayageum, geomungo, and haegeum – traditional instruments with an up to 1,000 year old history. And yet, the powerful, fantasy-like performances of the Korean threepiece can make the most advanced electronic tools feel pale and tame in comparison.
The studio is their stage: While the Brighton based ensemble's live performances may fit most people's definition of “jazz,” their electronically supercharged recordings redefine its limits. At their heart, however, is the very essence of the genre: Improvisation in all of its variations and glory.
For Billy Nomates, music and lyrics can enter into paradoxical relationships, combining the sad and the upbeat, offering linear and circular narratives as well as navigating between sex and death. Life is short and lyrics can help to make sense of it – what's the point in lying?
The Swedish trio's monumental Black Metal delves into history, digging up the roots of evil and investigating societal entanglements. If that seems bleak, then that's because it has to be: Only when you turn off the lights completely, can you see the faint glimmer of hope.
A lonely clarinet, scattered fragments of piano chords, a ghostly layer of evening ambiance – Matthew Sage's new album seems to exist in the realm of memories, myths and magic. Its chambermusical arrangements are filled with yearning – forever reaching for something that's impossible to grasp.
Paceo's "Atlantis" takes a mythical culture as its point of departure. But the depth, intensity, and just barely contained energy of its songs point to something highly personal – to a burning passion held within that's bubbling to the surface.
Ion is a firm believer in the art of the album. That is remarkable since her songs feel like self-contained worlds. Searching harmonies, her incomparable voice and sparse arrangements lead the listener into a magical place where words take on new meaning – as if they're born that very moment.
Horror film soundtracks, traditional Korean music, electronic studio production, performance and “shamanistic imagination” - the work of WON IL takes the job description of a composer to new levels of complexity. His music is of a remarkable immediacy, however.
The Swedish jazz composer wants to give songs what they need. For his upcoming album, that mostly meant subtracting elements and focusing on warm grooves underneath Beach-Boys-like harmonies. That is, until he discovered they were asking him for a complete string orchestra.
Formentini's latest album is a takeover. During the process, the guitarist-composer allowed subconscious memories, unprocessed traumas, and inherited energies to infiltrate, invade, and influence his process – yielding an infinite field of whispers, Kirlean resonance and cloudy hauntings.
Siichaq was battling with mental health and loneliness when Nirvana and Melody's Echo Chamber came to the rescue. Songtitles like “I keep getting sicker” and “Life's a Mess” still reveal bruises and scars. The music, however, oscillating between brokenness and beauty, has the power to inspire.
Bowman is interested in the idea of sound as democratic, species-crossing communication. Maneuvering wondrous electro-acoustic spaces through improvisation and careful placement of his materials, a music of great subtley, joy, and refinement arises – free from expectations, free from constraints.
The range of influences for this British-Danish jazz supergroup is dizzying. But as exploratory as their creative process may be, the results have a surprisingly dreamy quality, a gently rolling sensuality and warm charm to them – think independent movie theatre rather than Hollywood blockbuster.
“Using ONLY electronic music/sounds is limiting.”
Binding field recordings to harmonies and beats and opening her intimate pieces up to psychedelic intrusion, the Singaporean pianist-producer and sound-composer is not afraid to get her ears dirty. Her work is an invitation to hear the world differently - and see life through the lense of music.
A deep sensation of grief was the overarching sensation for the cellist-composer's debut album. Navigating between her classical training, exploratory instrumental techniques and a profound love for contemporary music's immediacy, she moulded her own language of pain and deliverance.
Tuxis Giant's Matt O’Connor is always writing: Songs about houses, songs about pets. Songs that trick you into looking inward, songs that dip into the sublime. Songs that feel raw, yet glow from the inside. Songs that are quiet, but which you'll never forget.
For her new album, Laura-Mary Carter wanted to return to the straight-forward storytelling of 50s love songs. That's not to say the emotions discussed here are simple. There is always a coating of noise, a halo of hurt, an itch to remove the bandages and open up the wounds.
The “M” doesn't just stand for the Captain's finely groomed facial hair growth. It also relates to: Music, Melody, and that certain Magic that elevates his weightlessly floating future-age electro-grooves to an energetic state approved by Albert Einstein.
As a boy, the albums of Tangerine Dream took the Marillion guitarist to another world. Decades later, his encounter with the keeper of the TD legacy could do the same for a new generation – long, feverdreamy instrumentals casting pulsating shadows on landscapes filled with longing and regret.
“Everything is subordinated to music itself—production, technology, even performance decisions.“
How do you describe the magic that's all around us? On GUSH, Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith does it best by not describing it at all. Her songs are pure synaesthetic sense stimulations, aural caresses of hazy vocals and sultry beats which always put feeling first.
Drawing spirit from John Coltrane's great 60s recordings, the Swiss saxophonist is following in legendary footsteps. Backed by a fourmidable band and propelled forward by highly memorable material, however, he pulls it off – always landing on the right side of classic vs retro.
“Dimensions” reverses the conventional logic of electronic music, treating the orchestra like a synthesizer and an effect processing unit. The results, however, are not formal experiments, but emotionally rousing string oscillations which feel faintly familiar and fascinatingly foreign.
Olly Mundy's journey into music is like an arrow unstoppably making its way towards the bull's eye – and DJing is like life therapy. His afro-house sets hold precious moments, building them into spaces to rejoice, rejuvenate, and re-connect with what really matters.
Could any band be cooler and more unpredictable than Canada's heroes-beyond-borders Motherhood? It can, if it's led by one of their members. Penny & The Pits' are brutal & charming, sharp & fuzzy, they're your mind on helium, they're bitter love & sweet sweat, they're rage wrapped in a pink ribbon.
Recorded at his home, Matt Bachmann's upcoming new album conveys a rare organic intimacy. Realised as a collective dream with a cast of formidable musicians, the music unfolds slowly, and with utmost intent, through the weaving of mesmerising patterns and subtle grooves.
Some have compared Newmen to Stereolab. But the German quintet are closer to the source. Their new album blends irresistible motorics with sweet vocoder tunes and analog synths for a mirage-like, mind-frying ride on the rays of the future and everything that made the originals great.
Mallets, bells, and choirs – and yet, David Robertson is not composing for classical concert halls, but the dancefloor. His music follows a course set by intuition and fast decisions: If there are no rules, every note is an opportunity to break them.
The composer and sound designer's new album starts off in a dreamy, peaceful haze, then drops into unfathomable depths in two time-arresting long-form pieces. On the outside, nothing much is happening here. On the inside, it's a tempest.
Inspired by the proud Afro-Peruvian tradition and Miles Davis' legendary 60s quintet, the sextet are embracing rules and constraints as a tool for liberation. There is a constant flow of energy between members, music, and audience – not a single performance is ever quite the same.
Juri Seo's work explores “the continuum between timbre, harmony, and noise.” Yet its main goal is not experimentation, but exhilaration. Making consistently surprising use of just intonation, electronics, and traditional instruments, this music makes you forget the past and remember the future.
Sometimes, just a single piano note can prove cathartic for the Australian sound artist and composer. But so can the noises of big cities and urban environments. On “Syndesis,” she translates her emotional response to a thrillingly diverse collection of sounds into a mesmerising aural tapestry.
“Is it Love?” the chorus to the Berlin-based dub-reggae duo asks expectingly. But what else could it be? Two decades into their creative career, Noiseshaper keep plumbing the depths of echo, delay and feedback. It's about sharing, it's about the unknown – but most of all, it's about the love of it.
The precise pulse of Juli Lee's percussion patterns pave a path for pure, otherworldly pads, and whispered poetry to softly unlock the brain's emotional hemispheres. It is a space where all anger has gone and left room for the more subtle energies remaining in its wake to unfold.
Steve Lawler has gone through a “god awful” first record and overcome gear addiction to end up in a place where music is a pure expression of emotion. His new single is a relentless burst of energy – describing a place where euphoria and unfulfilled desire merge.
Talking about energy means talking about live performances to the Polish bassist. In concert, “incredible things happen.” Especially so on his latest live album with his quintet, on which 4-minute pieces get expanded to 22-minute explorations as part of the “art of joy.”
The modular synth compositions of the Mexico-City based producer have one foot on the dancefloor and the other on a bed of moss. Inspired both by personal experiences as well as the machine-logic of her systems, her latest EP is an act of conscious self-hypnotisation.
Goldfarb's new album takes listeners to places where everything sounds not-quite-right in exactly-the-right-kind of way – and vice versa. New intervallic spaces lead to new forms which, in turn, lead to new experiences. That's because they “ultimately expand our sense of what music can be.”
David wanted his new album to be “strange, trippy and beautiful.” It turned into more than that: A fantasy for vocals, wind controller, MIDI guitar, and drum-synthesizer that goes from poetic babblings and insular sounds to mysterious structures. It's like witnessing the birth of a new music.
Whatever the Chinese singer-songwriter had to endure, music was always there for her. Now, she is using the power of her tender, diaristic songs to help and heal others. What is needed right now, Miist feels, aren't innovations or extravagant presentation, but art as an act of humanity.
The Australian producer is wrapping huge emotions in a soft fabric, aiming for euphoria with small gestures. Her debut full-length encompasses and congenially blends dreamy house, sequencer electronica, and dancefloor anthems – this is what it feels like to truly be taken on a journey.
His career as a baritone has already led Liverman to a Grammy win, performances at the Met and collaborations with many of the leading orchestras. On his expansive new album, he is now stepping into the limelight as a composer – with songs at the cusp of the fragile and triumphant.
The band's second coming has already been more prolific than their first run in the 1990s. Their new release was even, at one point, set to turn into a double album of gorgeous house songs. That's because they can't conveniently switch the creative muscle off – it's always twitching.
Patience is key for Deepak Sharma, both as a DJ and a producer. Patience to keep a groove going until it fully reveals itself. Patience to reach beyond taste, beyond expectations, beyond ego. His aim is to tap into something hidden – and use it to transform his audience.
For the Lebanese sound artist, music is an extension of politics. His pieces of bonecrushing electronica make for a dark, angelic message: Beats never settle, compositions oscillate between chaos and control, timbres fluctuate and flicker.
For Charlie Sparks, energy is not something to selfishly hoard. It is there to be shared, it expands and grows by passing it on. His new EP is like a distillation of the energy created by his live sets into recordings – and then injected straight into the listener.
“There is a deep reservoir of creativity often found within self-imposed constraints.”
A collaborative, immersive installation is a hard-hitting reflection on - and a ghostly meditation about – technological mediation, beauty in the face of destruction as well as Polowczyk's evolving relationship with his own art. It is also an invitation to walk through the content – literally.
The quartet slap, strum, and blow their instruments like a Hildegard von Bingen on Acid. But beside the mediaeval-folk-like trance rituals, there are plenty moments of tender introspection and catchy songwriting. The New Eves are Rising – and they won't relent until you join them.
"Last night, you were in my dream," Yoshika Colwell wispers on her mesmerising debut album. But we're in there, too. Using the language of folk, her songs capture the in-between with grainy, black-and-white-photography serenity - and brutally honest poetic brilliance.
Now a museum, Lokananta used to be the beating heart of Indonesia's creative scene. For modern jazz trio Babon, its blending of Indonesian traditions with global sounds triggered a wave of inspiration that ultimately led them to their personal sound.
Joane Hétu's path as a composer wasn't easy. But she didn't question her calling. You can hear this sense of necessity in her music which speaks to the mind and the body alike – creating a sense of wonder from elements and instruments you thought you knew inside-out.
“Some of the most powerful experiences I’ve had with music felt like energetic imprints—moments that marked me deeply, almost etched into my heart.”
Filled to the brim with surprisinlyg psychedelic twist and turns, Boersma takes techno far beyond its traditional templates. Her tracks are like threedimensional sculptures of the club experience – even at home, you can literally see the crowd go wild to them.
Furtherset's work is brimming with a potential for synaesthetic confusion: Intuitions get “tuned,” images explained, visuals and sounds collide. It is music that has to bridge the divide: Richly resonant, menacing yet balletic, these orchestral ambient works are still-lifes at the cusp of eruption.
Thomas Julienne's band Theorem of Joy are expanding the traditional jazz palette – with subtly embedded virtual instruments, Indian chants, hypnotically drawn-out groove sections and socio-psychological reflection. It is a meditation on fire driven by an insatiably curious mind.
Uncertainty, pressure, and tension are the triggers for the rattling and rolling, fidgeting and flowing, hickupping and hollering percussion fantasies of Joss Turnbull. It is a music that paradoxically facilitates and requires release: The more vulnerable you get, the more you're free to let go.
Ahikaa Arora's discography is just two singles deep, but the spiritual dimensions they plumb infinitely expand their emotional impact. This is music that envelopes its audience completely, these are songs that don't come from her but to her.
For years, Ria Moran thought her voice was too quiet. Now, it's what pulls listeners into her world of intimate thoughts and confessions. Her debut album confronts and caresses her vocals with lush sub-basses, time-arresting grooves and neonlit synths – fall in love to it, fall in love with it.
Ginton's guitar tone is as light as a cloud, his melodic hooks sweet and captivating. Marrying Afrobeat influences with house and drawing a lot of energy from his DJ/Live-performance-fusion sets, his haiku-like compositions invite the mind to travel.
“Improvisation is not a show-off thing. For me it’s about trying to create something beautiful together with other people.”
garbagebarbie's vision of pop isn't complicated – their new single is about the pleasures of kissing. But taking in elements from glam, jangle, and disco, it is as colourful as it is cinematic and ambitious in scope: “Music changes the world because it is what the universe is made of.”
Emerging from a 20-year long hibernation, the Austrian duo's beats are still chilled, but the vibes feel as warm as ever. Almost entirely instrumental, the music creates a dream-like haze extending blissfully into infinity across an endless horizon of gentle grooves, piano licks and echoes.
This music is about pain. And pleasure. It is means business. It is fun. It is indie. It is experimental. It is none of those. It is wild. It is beautiful. It is chaotic. It is disciplined. It confuses audiences. It makes them fall in love with the band. It is not possible. It is waiting for you.
The sixpiece were part of the same scene for years before locking themselves in the studio and improvising for 48 hours straight. The resulting journey through relentless dub grooves, epic hypnotica, and shoegazy rock channels the spirit of Can and Neu! so perfectly that it feels almost paranormal.
Albums like Anna Sophia Defant's “s:e” make you believe that anything really is possible. Not because it's “free,” not because it explodes stylistic borders and replaces them with unified sonic fields. But because it does all of these things with a pure, passionate, punk-like lack of restraint.
Growing from mysterious number patterns, Dan Rosenboom's Coordinates evolved into a progressive-jazz-rock-adjacent meditation on the infinite-worlds-theory. Despite its conceptual depth, the grooves reign supreme here: This is a philosophy of the mind that gets the body moving.
"Without silence, everything would become noise. Silence is where ideas are born and emotions settle."
His classical education and the accompanying mindset almost ended cellist Daniel Brandl's creative ambitions. Now, his music exists in a fascinating “inbetween-ness” - a driftstate which allows for a force beyond the players and their influences to emerge.
Ryan El-Solh of post-rock trio Scree sometimes imagines his life being happier without the creative impulse. The world, however, would be poorer without it. The band's instrumentals – ornamented with loops, effects and a full brass section – may grow from despair but yield the fruit of consolation.
As a conductor, Owen Underhill has dedicated his life to putting great contemporary composers on a well-deserved pedestal. Now, a new album of small-ensemble pieces is doing the same for his own work: Yearning and of a quicksilvery elegance, these songs are of an otherworldly beauty.
Twitch may have carried dance music through the pandemic. But it is much more than a temporary life vest. A big new festival explores the intersection between physical club culture and online DJing – and how Twitch may lead the way into a stimulating future.
The sonic scenes of the sensitive sound sculptor's soundtrack to a surreal Icelandic documentary never surrender to the striking images. The rhythm of the movie and the floating ghostliness of the synthesizers interlock, creating a dialogue across different layers of perception and consciousness.
Often written in the early morning and in the small window between pain and emotional processing, the stream-of-consciousness songs of the New York fivepiece are instantly relatable and magical at the same time. You don't wake up from this dream, you keep falling deeper into it.
The success of arguably the world's most famous festival remains equally remarkable and fragile. And so, the organisers took a far-reaching strategic decision: Futureproofing the festival by exploding its location in time and space.
“Dance helps to expand our conscious awareness.”
Masterpieces by Verdi, Debussy and Mahler were the point of departure for double-bassist-composer Haggai Cohen-Milo's “Gravitations” project. Flavoured with jazz and hip-hop, these pieces not only hold and stand on their own – they'll make you listen to the classics with fresh ears.
Known for his sonic-laboratory-approach, the Canadian producer is also known as the “Techno Doctor.” On his latest EP, however, he is slipping into the role of a director, scoring scenes from a Jodie Foster movie or Berlin nightlife.
Technically, the TC & the Groove Family frontman's latest release is his solo debut. In reality, it is as collaborative as ever. Incorporating soul and jungle, jazz improvisations and a live band, this is the spirit of a community - and a way of life - set to music.
Each cover for the Canadian producer's mesmerising new drum'n'bass LP is different, each one is part of a larger work. Some might be confused. But to 747, the concept of code as a paintbrush remains infinitely fascinating.
Sometimes barely a minute short, James Burns' ambient work hovers weightlessly at the cusp between clip and composition. Every piece briefly opens a portal into a world of blurry outlines, unresolved grief and softly lingering tones – one step further, and you'd loose yourself.
Maybe our narratives of the new are broken: Lingyuan Yang's latest album has the shape and the line-up of a jazz trio. Underneath, however, microtonal melodies, hyperreal virtuosity and constantly shifting constellations create a seductive sensation of inspiring disorientation.
"Now I barely feel anything // Don’t know if I’ll feel anything at all ever again," Sloe Noon sings. But only someone with a dizzying surplus of emotions could deliver these lines with such conviction. Her songs are sexy and fragile, like whispers sent through clouds of noise and fuzz.
Using ChatGpt, sampling, and supposedly outdated technology, Superspace create hypnotic simulations of alternate utopian realities. Their 90s-inspired debut album sits snugly between chicago house, early Aphex Twin and meditative italo house. It's so nostalgic it sounds like nothing else.
The German duo are playing trippy house with a jazz mentality, treating the studio like the stage, blurring the lines between downbeat and dancefloor. Their latest jams were only supposed to yield one EP's worth of material – then they couldn't stop themselves.
The duo was inspired by a simple thought: As sound passes through us, it moves the liquid part of our bodies. There are moments in these first-take-improvisations which are held still far beyond any compositional logic – within the listener, however, the music is twitching with surreal delight.
Scents and desires, fears and “fucking around” - in the songs of Rhiannon Atkinson-Howatt, the words become tantalising and terrifying, tangible and tastable. Making music is a ritual, its source a mystery.
After finally becoming pain-free after years of chronic issues, the New York drummer and percussionist is ready for his debut as a leader: Balancing precise motorics with mantric swing and oscillating between cool composure and naïve pleasures, this is spiritual jazz for the young at heart.
David Bixler's music is unmistakably jazz – inspired by it, taught by it, shaped by a deep and profound love for it. And yet, underneath it all, there is a constant process of questioning what seems unquestionable: How far can you go - the answer is negotiated anew each session.
Mary Yuzovskaya's vision of minimalism is one of the most consistent in techno. Intriguingly, her creative process is the exact opposite: it knows no limitations, rules, or extraneously imposed boundaries.
After a traumatic encounter with personal loss, Nicolás Melmann has made it his mission create art as an instrument of transformation. His long, drifting drone pieces are open-ended: You spend as much time inside them as you need to heal.
Feeding his bass clarinet through an array of electronics, Ben Bertrand creates worlds of mysterious density and sensual suggestions. If Debussy had composed on the international space station, this is what he might have sounded like.
On paper the multitude of influences in Nadeem Din-Gabisi's sound cosmos – from sacred hymns via soul and jazz to old school hip hop – can be dizzying. In practise, they blend together all but seamlessly. Albums are like people to him - they are walking, talking contradictions.
When Nicolas Meier and his congenial partner Ola Onabulé entered the studio, they had prepared nothing. They had to surrender themselves to the flow, the warm resonance of the vocals and the cool virtuosity of the guitar licks.
Condensed down from much longer originals, two glacial ambient dreamstates for piano and electronics by Melaine Dalibert and David Sylvian reach beyond: Our human lives infallibly have an end, but this music of breathtaking stillness can keep playing forever.
Morten Haxholm's sequel to his ambient-jazz exploration Aether captures the same atmospheric intimacy but drives it forward with propulsive polyrythmic drumming and greater timbral diversity. Solid or ether – keeping the lines blurry is part of the magic here.
For Florestan, creativity is a mysterious and sacred space. His first solo album gently pulls you into this place with a suite of guitar pieces that oscillate between drift and focus, movement and contemplation, acoustic fragility and sizzling feedback.
Despite tapping into desperation, disgust, and desolation, Rylan Gleave's Requiem is driven by the strange beauty of polarities. Catharsis is for amateurs - this is about accepting that pain and pleasure are inseparably entwined.
Melancholy and euphoria are closely connected in the Paris producer's oeuvre. The dynamic tension of indie songwriting melts into the sweet magnetism of deep house grooves, creating pockets between dream and desire.
Goldkimono's main goal is simple: Taking listeners “out of the worry state.” His feathery dream-funk is the musical equivalent to an Air Max: You still have to do the walking, but it sure feels a lot lighter.
“When I listen to my new album now, I feel immense sadness. Some of those songs just destroy me.”
Shadid's yearning compositions for piano, string quartet, and electronics exist in their own time-space-continuum. Heartfelt repetition and intuitive variation flow from a romantic ideal rather than a purist mindset: Music is not about counting notes but making each one count.
Where do the images of Tim Scott McConnell's vivid narrative world come from? Where do they lead? These are not questions he ponders – and maybe that's what lends his music its anything-but-plain-simple personality.
East doesn't just meet West on Shez Raja's “Spellbound.” They truly embrace each other. Driven by Raja's liquid bass lines and a hard-hitting drum n tabla section, the music oscillates between melodic lyricism and percussive bliss.
Downbeat has referred to Chris Cheek's latest quartet recording as an “understated gem.” The praise is justified, but feels like a misrepresentation: This isn't the sound of restraint, but music of great anticipation which elevates every subtle nuance to a moment of devastating beauty.
Despite their warm, elastic bass lines, the dreamy songs of Ello Sun's first solo EP feel like creations of air and ether. They could go on forever, but prefer to fade before their spell is broken.
The Canadian quartet have recorded a collection of emphatically uplifting power pop anthems. In the best moments, they aren't just channelling their own emotions – they are creating dynamic feedback loops with anyone who listens to them.
For the Colombian songwriter, life and art are intricately intertwined: Her new, sunsplashed single literally came to her under the shower. Still, making music is instinctual – a source of love, healing, and self-empowerment.
"Words are incredibly powerful … but where do they fall short?"
Integrating field recordings and gentle modular synth movements, the pieces of the duo's second album embrace their urban surroundings. The music never gets photorealistic, however, capturing an emotional response instead - lusher than life and much more beautiful than the real thing.
Experimenting with compressors, EQs, and tape recorders, Maison Blanche is bringing the deep, jazzy vibe of 90s French Touch house into the present. His productions sound fresh and contemporary – while smelling as familiar as a strawberry-jam croissant on a Sunday morning.
South Korea's jazz scene is changing: The fractures of society are pushing artists to speak up, while new technologies are fostering sonic experimentation. Seoul is oscillating between tradition and hyper-modernity – and yonglee is eager to ride the wave.
As a classically-trained church organist, Hampus Lindwall plays four improvised masses each week. But none of them sounds like the pieces on his new album. Performed with endless inventiveness and energy, they make the instrument sound all but possessed.
For Liz Vice, spirituality informs her entire life. Her voice can silence an entire room and give her out of body experiences while singing. It is a power that feels gratifying and scary at the same time.
The Hungarian producer's “Kraut Komet” has sent audiences dancing to its cosmic sequencer lines for years. As his new EP proves, his interest in the electronic side of krautrock goes a lot deeper still.
In Glasgow Domenic Cappello is already a legend. The pieces of his upcoming EP could make him one far beyond the city's borders. Layering rich, dreamy strings over Kraftwerk'esque beatwork, it's his most personal release yet.
Hailing from Akure, Nigeria, Feyisayo Anjorin has excelled as an author, screenwriter and singer. Spirituality and storytelling inform songs which feel like an African soul take on the gospel tradition.
"Playing around and not adhering to formats or genres is how jazz originated. So perhaps I honour the spirit of it in that way."
Sound artist Edu Comelles spent 5 years sculpting and continually reworking the pieces on his new album. They condense time into six soft meditations – fragile, fleeting, and never fully finished.
“The title of the album was very clear to me long before the recording. But I still had to figure out what it meant.“
Stretching across an epic 26 pieces, DUMMY THICC's debut album is an ode to the groove. But these are more than just rhythm studies. Interacting with seductive keys and resonant strings, his drums are gateways to deep emotional moods.
Eppur si muove: Movement is life and music initiates movement. By scientifically validating the power of rhythm, Julia Basso is finding new ways to support those with autism or spectrum disorder.
“A black metal band playing in suits with ties would in of itself be a statement.”
Even into the third decade of his career, the impulse to create has never left the British soul legend. His first studio album in eight years radiates warmth and flows with effortless ease – the result of a trance-like approach to songwriting.
A wealth of questions stood at the start of the bass trombonist's extraordinary debut album. Occupying a space between jazz, modern composition and experimentalism, the answers are always in her instrument and her imagination.
"I never felt comfortable working with other people’s poetry. Not as they wrote it, anyway."
Born in Afghanistan, Farhot has become one of Germany's most acclaimed and exciting hip hop producers. The future? Is all about never being boring.
The German songwriter and oboist has written a poetic album that takes listeners into their inner world. But although gestures and words are subtle, these pieces are always born from a burning fire inside.
“This is an angry album. And the time that angry women can command an audience’s undivided attention is very limited.“
The Berlin trio places Kraftwerk's naïve melodicism and cool vocals on top of Moroder-style bass sequences. The result is sexy, nocturnal, and physically intoxicating.
Mt. Joy continue their search for the perfect song on Hope We Have Fun. But it's a perfection that comes through free association and letting go – there are worlds of deeply felt intentions within the unintentional.
The Austin quartet's music is a no holds barred emotional dive into the shadowside of life. Still, their buzzing post-noise-rock-hardcore anthems always find the beauty hidden in the darkness.
For Richard Poher, the didgeridoo is strikingly simple but offers endless potential. It allows for intellectual approaches while connecting us to the earth.
“The modular's an instrument that I have to work on constantly. When I come back from a holiday, I often find myself wondering how it all works.”
The French producer's hypnotic sonic dreams do not reinvent the rules of deep house. Suffused with warmth and a sense of wonder, they extend into worlds that retain their mystery yet feel like coming home.
Marc Melià's new album was recorded entirely on a monophonic analog synthesizer. The result is not just so inventive it's hard to believe the premise – but also deeply moving, and utterly unique.
“If I could see Coltrane live I would be so excited I would faint.”
Stella Sommer has been likened to Lana del Rey and Nico. As her new album as Die Heiterkeit proves, these comparisons are mere pointers for an artist for whom songwriting is beyond control – sometimes a walk in the park, sometimes a battlefield.
The Canadian composer intended approaching her debut album with the most minimal concept imaginable. In the end, the pieces grew increasingly more orchestral, more lush, more sepiatoned – while still incorporating her pull towards the unknown and unconventional.
“I think we’ve moved beyond the idea of the composer as a solitary genius. Composing today is as much about curating and connecting as it is about generating.”
The woozy, welcoming deep-house-textures of Gazur's new album stretch out into immersive epics. Partly inspired by the noises of Vietnam and dealing with tinnitus, these pieces get better by turning the volume down.
At first, translating the dark subject matter of a short story by Nicoleta Esinencu into music seemed like a journey into Eastern European history. As G.W. Sok and Pavel Tchikov eventually discovered, it turned out to be a stunningly visionary comment on the current the state of the world.
“I believe that the relationship between the roots of music and what we have now is NOT STRONG ENOUGH.”
The Texas vocalist, composer and instrumentalist draws from her Mexican and Syrian roots for her intensely inwards-looking songs. The world is not just her oyster – it's a miracle of intimacy and utter freedom.
People, programs, and places are on the Spanish cellist's mind, both when she's composing and performing. But in the end, her music always feeds off the human experience: “When something feels important, your body remembers.”
The left-of-center artist is using every tool at her disposal to keep her approach fresh: Scoring for film, tapping into AI, drawing from Mumbai's art scene and “working with atonal sources of sound, to create textural dance music that feels accessible and fresh.”
“The only thing that truly gives me hope for humanity is sound.”
“There was a lot of smiling, but even more tears while recording this album.“
Releasing two albums at the same time might not seem particularly minimalistic. But for Come Down and Mirror Ring, Canadian songwriter Ensign Broderick restricted himself to little more than his voice and the piano – in this vast emotional space, every single sound matters.
It don't mean a thing unless it ain't got those strings: After 15 years of relentlessly reinvigorating Swing, the Scottish ensemble have enriched their sound with a layer of nostalgic violins – be prepared to cry once, then cry twice.
“Tone, placement, and rhythm allow communication in a way speaking could never really match.”
"Once it was just me and my handheld camera, the artists seemed to open up more."
Pasquinelli has been the emotional pulse behind a variety of formidable formations at the borders between jazz and post-punk and -rock. On his solo project, he is now drumming and collaborating with delicately drifting drones – an equally dreamy, intense, and otherworldly experience.
Chicarica are the latest entry in a long line of luminous Chilean synth pop bands. Their take on the genre is mesmerising, floating, and blissful – somewhere between a dream of Kraftwerk and Underworld, but always entirely their own thing.
This band contains multitudes: The Young Mothers are playing spiritual jazz filled with beauty, fuelled by diversity and a deep sense of trust.
Too much coffee, a subversive humour and an un-spiritual approach to creativity drove the Irish trio's latest set of songs about feminism and dogs. The band's manic post-rock is as experimental as it is catchy, taking the pressure of their anthemic riffs to the point of explosive combustion.
"With the rise of Instagram, DJing and electronic music have become a FARCE."
As a resident of one of the world's most maximalist metropoles, Kalkotta's 303-and-drum-maschine explorer Varun Desai came to appreciate the minimalist mindset late. It's still a radical concept to him – but one which offers the reward of total freedom of expression.
Aubry's list of favourite sounds is long, extending from abandoned railway shacks and a river gorge in the Moroccan Atlas to old movie theatres and the hellbound chaos of metal band Portal. But don't get him started on the sirens of Berlin's fire trucks!
In this expansive interview on the occasion of her new album Poravna with improvisers Tony Buck, Axel Dörner, Noël Akchoté, and Greg Cohen, the Crotian vocalist and composer dives deep into all aspects of singing – from the sacredness of performing to the limitations of the body.
A shared admiration for Brazilian music from the 60s and 70s was the “North Star” for the duo's heavenly acoustic excursions. Expanding on short, sometimes 4-bar-loop ideas, these compositions are dreamy yet distinct, sweet but passionate, hazy but with intense focus.
Re-uniting with a former band member and opening themselves up to cross-cultural influences, Azmari are venturing beyond their ethio-jazz roots. More minimal than ever, however, their music stays true to its core: The trance of hypnotic grooves and the mystery of sound.
Translating their raw, propulsive electronic afrobeat to the stage remains a constant challenge for the trio. The real task, however, is to remain relevant: “Being an original artist today feels like survival.”
“Loss, grief and the process of trying to self-assure” remain the focal points of the Glasgow duo's beautifully poignant songs. This time, however, enriched by Adrian Utley's synths and rich string arrangements, they tap into even deeper and more powerful sensations.
“It's important to bring a little confrontation to audiences more often.”
“We can all benefit from listening to music and to our fellow human beings on a deeper level.”
Joy Guidry's expansion as an artist parallels the expansion of jazz as a genre. Working with basson, electronics, poetry, and her voice, her latest projects push sonic boundaries into a space between the spiritual and the radical.
With a unique aesthetic and style, KitschKrieg have made it to the creative top of Germany's hip hop scene. On London's Calling, they focus on collaboration and songwriting, while staying true to their philosophy: Being professional dilettantes with a minimal set-up.
The press release to the duo's latest explorations mentions Deleuze, Nietzsche, and the "planetary movements." The music, meanwhile, performed on small pipe organ and modular, is built on direct interaction, holding a space of gradually interweaving and shifting oscillations.
"I like the idea of my music being a kind of gathering or community, where we can all feel connected to something infinite."
There has to be more to music than emotions, finds saxophonist Uli Kempendorff. On the new album with his quartet Field, there is. Casting a questioning mood between transcendence and the visceral, these pieces invite the listener to co-shape the experience.
The multifaceted composer/producer/DJ's vision of jazz is like a dream of the Glasgow jazz scene: Soft, sensual, subtle and full of wonder for the everyday miracles of life.
Switching from keyboard to modular finally allowed Danielle Nia to realise what was in her head. Her ultimate goal: To shape her sound to the same degree as a string player or vocalist.
Sibel Koçer's recent trip to Vietnam resulted in sequencer music of ethereal, brightly coloured beauty. It is testimony to her admiration for the Asian electronic scene – and a restless brain in need of constant stimulation.
Some people can use improvisation to talk to the universe, Rapturous Apollo Helios believes. But for the infectuous 21st century afrobeat of the Ruffcats, the main key is simply for the groove to never stop.
Places of worship hold a special meaning for Asani's response to sound. It it isn't the silence between notes that feels important to him – but a softness capable of exerting incredible power.
The 18 short pieces on Watras's “Almond Tree Duos” are pure, poignant, powerful in their immediacy. The emotional range is wide and the techniques diverse - but hope is always the overarching sensation.
A personal trip to Vietnam resulted in a sequencer album opening up into a galaxy of intimacy. Tangerine Dream could have written this in the mid-80s – it would have been one of their better works.
The Australian sound artist, currently on tour through Europe, has experienced sound in the most diverse spaces – including a huge disused fish silo. Still, nothing beats the calm and beauty of everyday noises.
Starting from the trumpet, Zimmermann gradually developed a modular set-up aimed at experimentation and exploration. Control is an important element – but so are chance and coincidence.
Something's hidden in the basement, something sinister and hypnotic, flooded in strobe light, smeared with pulsating synth streaks. If you want to feel safe here, you've got to make the demons your friend.
Studying the greats of the past and present is a pivotal part of Sorvina's process. Her stories, however, are uniquely her own – and can never be destroyed by any system.
Merrick Winter's new EP is a collection of true, not necessarily real stories – picked up over dinner while riding the train, overheard on the street, drawn from life lessons imparted to him.
“I asked myself if I could do something like techno without having a sequencer or drum voices - or voices at all.”
With thousands of kilometres between them, coherence was the main concern for Hans Bilger and Eli Greenhoe's songwriting process. As they soon found out, they weren't building bridges – but entire musical worlds.
On the return of his band Los Forajidos, the Venezuelan bassist hits a lighter tone than on the politically driven predecessor. His delirious, trance-inducing grooves between tradition, trap and robotic funk remain true to his core motto, however: Ancient to the Future and Future to the Ancient.
Anger is the driving force for the Berlin formation. Recorded in a rehearsal room, their upcoming sophomore effort is a beacon for those in need of release.
The Roboquarians' second album is progressive-punk-style Black Flag jazz: Free, but with intense intent.
“Minimalism isn’t just reducing but it’s refining. It’s a deep search for essence and presence.”
Joni Mitchell and Erykah Badu showed Adja how to not just believe in herself, but to actually believe herself. In her music, she is not afraid to extend her limits – she's not just an artist, but an athlete, too.
Picking up a variety of raw materials from Home Depot was the first step of the creative process for Nathan Davis's new piece. Gradually, the music grew into a micro-immersive space of Youtube samples, MaxMSP manipulations and suspensefully discrete, visceral sounds.
Connections and exploring the unknown are at the core of Vilhelm Bromander's approach to music. The new album of his Unfolding Orchestra is an epic spiritual jazz journey embracing the mystery of twilight states.
The tender, almost whispered sonic poems of the Japanese artist float in a space between sound and song. They open up intimate galaxies within the safety of your own room.
“I have gigged when I felt like I have nothing to give. It's in those moments that the audience can carry you.”
The Pennsylvania band blend brutal blast beats, spiky punk riffs and blackened atmospherics into a ferocious maelstrom - “part grief and loss, part religious imagery and part monsters of the mind.”
Somewhere between The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, Mark Isham's ambient jazz soundtracks and the clear bell tones and choir-like sounds of early Roland synths lies a place the Dutch producer loves to visit.
Konalgad's debut LP sits at the cusp between dream and nightmare, reliving and exorcising a dark phase in his life. And yet, these pieces move towards the light, not away from it – testimony to the ideal of physically playing, singing and moving his body while composing.
Songs are not the only form of lyrical expression for Ada Morghe, who also writes plays and books. But, she feels, words are particularly powerful when combined with sound: “Music reaches the heart before the mind even has a chance to catch up.”
The Taiwan-born sound artist's Lost Communication is one of the most wondrous takes on animal sounds: Listening deeply, she is putting birds in the spotlight, propelling their song forward with beats, sweetening their signals with sultry soundscapes.
No matter how dark and intense Ash Luke's jungle and hardcore-inspired almost-un-dj'able productions may be – there needs to be a spark of soul at their heart.
Growth is the key theme on the trio's new album. So why are their lovingly crafted, breathtakingly harmonised songs moved by a bittersweet undercurrent?
Doyle's new album emerged from confusion and loss. Aiming at a translation of raw, unfiltered truth, she ultimately found inspiration in sensations of disconnection and disorientation.
The cellist and composer finds beauty in how sounds interact with the space they're born into. On his new album, every stroke of the bow and modular synth line is lovingly, laboriously shaped by hand.
Beats, sampled and chopped lyrics, field recordings and processed instruments: In his wondrous songs, inspired by Irish culture and poetry, Daniel McIntyre excavates fossils from the future.
As a kid, the Swedish songwriter was addicted to books and played in nine bands at the same time. These addictions never ended, they just got sublimated: Words and music are never separated in her larger-than-life torch songs.
"If we take “Chelsea Morning” by Joni Mitchell and you look at the lyrics, it is very easy to smell the bath bomb we created."
Ukrainian producer Anton Somin talks the talk on the future of music - and his meticulously crafted, future-high, sample-shot rhythmical sculptures more than delivers on the promises.
For the British drummer and producer, the stage is the studio and improvisation is instant composition. His collaborative performances have myriads of roots – but jazz and a love for randomised electronic systems are key components.
Recorded to analog tape and capturing the essence of twelve years as a duo, this third-eye-folk-music builds intimate spaces from guitar, kora and vocals.
An inveterate perfectionist Live Sollid Schulerud could never finish a track in a few hours. Perhaps that's precisely what makes her inimitable electronic songscapes, often driven by deeply personal experiences, so unique.
"We need noise to keep us creative and push boundaries."
Max Walker is right – his hard-hitting fusion isn't avantgarde per se. But it is certainly part of the vanguard when it comes to rhythmical inventiveness, emotional complexity and the creation of deep, innovative textures.
Ned Pegler sees no reason to fear for the future. On his deep new album he is tapping into the unknown and building instantly relatable visions of dance music from improvisations.
“Sound is a more direct line to the human spirit than the visual arts.“
Composer and improviser Kjetil Husebø had become estranged from the piano. Then, he connected it to samplers and electronics and started building alien worlds somewhere between structure and spontaneity.
Friendships and the bonds of love remain important catalysts for the psychedelic pop of the French duo – so do food, great melodies and studios with windows.
In her music, Alonso weaves sonic objects of different spatialities into time-arresting drift-states. It's a place of pure experience - no one's judging.
After once being blown away by Reich's 18 Musicians, the Catalan composer no longer looks at music through a maximalist or minimalist lense. It's all about finding and honing the ideas that truly matter.
We call it interspiritual jazz: The soulful songs and blissful moods of these two multitalented polymaths extends beyond borders and genres.
To Alex Garnett, even after 100 years, jazz is still “finding its way.” Ahead of a quintet performance at Ladbroke Hall, the saxophonist reflects on the unique UK sound, the chops of a new generation and why his discography as a leader has remained fairly small.
Teachers tried to smooth out the edge, roughness and rasp in Jon Allen's voice. Thankfully, he had a record player – and a stubborn streak.
El Leon Pardo's journey into music started with a mystical experience. On his psychedelic new album, he is channeling it through cosmic cumbia, spiritual jazz and dubbed-out electronics.
“What hip hop could be like is something so far from its origins that it may not be called hip hop.”
At 12, Leonie Jakobi wanted to sound like Bon Jovi. Today, the singer has found her own voice, and her own style - and has come full circle on her new single.
With a background in jazz and inspired by Frank Zappa and Edgard Varèse early on, Jason Kriveloff's take on house was always going to be different. Recorded while going through serious health issues, his new EP is a triumph of life teaming with individuality.
A series of sonic postcards with an all-embracing reach and a profound emotional impact.
"Many of the positives we associate with the music industry are actually a result of technology rather than anything the industry itself is doing."
The songs of the Australian duo float in soft, psychedelic fluid – as if each note, every word and the next chord were sent to them from an alternate, liminal space.
Florin doesn't think of himself as a fairly limited instrumentalist. In the piano trio Dig Dug Dug, those limitations lead to a direct and unromantic sound, bound- and borderless interactions - and plenty of surprises.
Virtual and physical reality merge on this time-travelling fusion of rock, jazz, and electronica – a perfect representation of the present moment.
“Songs can help us see things in a new way … and that is empowering.“
Saxophonist Tara Sarter doesn't believe anything is better than anything else. On her latest album, this simple creed translates to one of the most unconventional visions of the jazz trio format.
Tobias Fischer reflects on how the death of one of Germany's biggest singers created an infinite loop.
Aiming for the border between divine ecstasy and extreme horror, the doom metal trio “saturate the acoustic space and overtone series in an attempt to sever the listener’s consciousness from the past and the future.”
The Thai drummer's global take on jazzy funk is so dreamy and groovy that it all but belies her real intention: To hit as many things at once as she possibly can.
Soulful, sultry, and smooth, Tasha LaRae's Right Now is a feast for lovers of deep vocal house. Every track stays true to her goal: Expressing every emotion she holds inside.
OHYUNG firmly intends to be a pop star. Their new album has all the right hooks, infectuous melodies, and sultry beats – but bathes them in an otherworldly twilight.
Scott Walker’s Tilt “objectively” inspired the majestic trance-states of the New England fivepiece – never fully discharging, perpetually in a state of feverish suspension.
Inspired by his Latin roots and applying techniques of Sushi preparation to his productions, the new album by the Pillowtalk member is a joyful collection of infectious house songs.
Olafur Arnalds is a fan, but Burial is an inspiration: VRAELL re-defines the borders between producer, songwriter, and composer.
The Cuban singer-songwriter's voice shines brighter than ever on Ritual. But it's the big communal choruses, performed without a metronome, which brought most joy to her.
Terrible or incredible? The trio's hypertechnical metal turns towards storytelling.
Emerging from skeletal sketches, the global-minded duo's expansive new album is driven by the synergy between words and sounds and the beauty hidden in misunderstandings.
Embracing multimediality, and multidisciplinarity, Gryvul navigates between radical sound art, Ukrainian folk-themes and inventive ensemble work.
A state of suspension, a feeling of voluntary submission: This music needs to exist.
“Part of the role of an artist is to determine if an idea is worth exploring.”
Faced with big, burning questions, Verena Zeiner accepted her responsibility as an artist – responding with radical care and a new-found musical freedom.
With Spiral Deluxe, the Detroit keyboard player is shaping his vision of a bright future – between the acoustic and the electric, tradition and progress, jazz and house.
Unleashing an Arctic Post Metal Inferno, the Norwegian band clearly feel strongly about transmitting energy. Their goal: To help listeners raise their voices.
Based on an old French theatrical production, the Tuxon, AZ band created a trip of latinamerican rhythms and deep songwriting - a challenge they wouldn't care to do again any time soon.
On Ghosts Between Streams, triggered by observations of ecological destruction, the environmental impact is “both the subject and the work itself.”
Is every sound we hear loaded with associations with our past? On the first album of his new project – a collage of beats, sequences, personal messages and blocks of sound - Matteo Liberatore is determined to find out.
Watch this space – in her songs and performances, the British songwriter is digging deep into the new and unknown of a genre she has a funny relationship with.
The Dutch indie rock trio are finding beauty in a fucked up world - always looking for the suckerpunch in the most mundane things.
Inspired by “long days and nights that stretched into the morning”, the hypnagogic music of Aregger's trio moulds sensuality and suspense into “moments where the energy boils beneath the surface.”
Utopian jazz: Music so beautiful that it makes you experience and long for a better world.
The Nigerian-British singer and lyricist wants to leave an imprint and offer a true representation of who she is. On her soulful and stripped-down debut album, she's come pretty close to that ideal.
The “rebel sound” marries true lyricism with a border- and genreless sound that is dark, powerful and uplifting all at once.
For her new album, Aimée Portioli processed, pitched and arranged wind recordings. The result is a veritable force of nature – and possibly the most powerful piece of sound art you'll hear this year.
“If more people approached communication the way musicians do, so many conflicts could dissolve effortlessly.”
Ahead of a new Barbican premiere, the experimental vocalist speaks about her practise, disrupting semantic sense and her love for how people say the things they say.
Martial arts and creative remembering are guiding principles for the piano-percussion duo. Their debut album incorporates moments of intimacy, sonic sculpting and suspenseful drum rolls.
Wherever the Hamburg duo may go - the next big melancholic chorus is always right around the corner.
No plans, no concepts. Just honesty and vulnerability: On an impressionist, bittersweet new trio album, Mathias Landæus is once again surrendering to the flow.
Kuunatic play psychedelic rock on traditional Japanese instruments. Their process involves science fiction, mythology - and burning incense from Kyoto's Nanzen-ji Temple.
There is a lot of space in Füting's compositions – filled with echoes of the past, an embrace of magic and the will to break it.
Propelled by two drummers, the quartet are looking for patterns between hypnosis and deconstruction, tactile grooves and grainy texture.
Cuban folk, Nu Soul, dreamy acoustics and uplifting beats - everything flows naturally on the new JOHNNYSWIM album. Aptly, writing songs feels like water to them.
“We must respect the great music of the past, and create something new,” moog master Yumiko Ohno says. To do this, she keeps her antennae open to jazz and electronica, installations, and DJ sets.
Aggression and vulnerability blend in the trios' fuzzy indie rock. Revealing their darkest thoughts opens up a space of hope.
From Kraftwerk and Cabaret Voltaire via Eric Clapton and Depeche Mode to OMD and Black Sabbath - Denis Blackham's masterings have made the world of music a better one.
From Protection-era Massive Attack via modular-synth-fantasies to stripped-down melancholia, Nite Kite is exploring personality over progress.
Hong Kong’s Cantopop is a joyful fusion of Eastern and Western influences. Now, TC:KYLIE adds jazz and historically charged soundscapes to the equation.
Even after five decades, Fisher Turner is still just "making it up."
Spinnen write edgy, from-the-dark-corners-of-the-basement drum-and-guitar post-punk anthems. The lyrics, however, imbue them with a “light that permeates the body.”
Damascus and New York are the pillars of Kinan Azmeh's world. His intensely spiritual, ecstatically still music, however, is bound to no genre or place.
Ambient guitarist Takuro Okada wants to play as if he were looking at water and grasping a cloud.
Mehr's immersive installation SUPRA may sound enchanting. But its themes are serious: Unless we take action, we are headed for epochal changes.
Miles Davis made Hino realise jazz is the ultimate form of music: Ageless, colourless, cool, sexy, sad, chaotic and funky like hell.
The post-punk band's new release captures them at their most raw and intense: Sounds cutting like knives, words turning to swords.
Tapping into sampling and working with experimental performance approaches, Joona Toivanen still heads one of the most unique piano trios we know.
First, Febriani spent time in the Indonesian forest. Then, she translated the inspiratio into stripped-down, bass-heavy percussion-funk.
The French quintet shape their own vision of 21st century jazz, soul, and hip hop – seducing the mind, but keeping the body engaged.
“With the kind of tone I have, one bottle of Bourbon and two packs of cigarettes a day would probably help. But I am not that disciplined.”
Much of today's popular dance music is a "deliberate rip-off of the past," according to van Dyk. But what is the solution?
Is the Swiss composer's new album a piece of ghostly resonances? A sculpture? Or is it just a space in which it exists as a sonic sculpture?
Lutz Krajenski's plays, collects, and restores Hammond organs. On his new album, he now fuses them with hiphop beats.
Sound is almost all-important for David Grubbs. His new collection of "distorted poems" is intense testimony to that.
"My music reflects the challenges of the world I live in while expressing the values I hold dear. Music is not just an art form - it’s a tool for a better future."
Gabríel Ólafs imagines what a world of ice would sound like – rejecting the notion that there could ever be too much reverb.
Haunting and quietly intense, pianist Benjamin Lackner's second album for ECM is a work of beauty slowly descending into darkness.
"I’ve always been drawn to music that has different degrees of weirdness to it."
Experience and the search for essence have turned the French electro duo into architects of sound.
The Moroccan-Yemeni singer has a voice and an on-stage presence that takes her audience on a rollercoaster ride. It's a blessing and a responsibility.
"Music can inspire, and bridge ethnic, religious, and political divides. As a musician and a composer, I want this to be my focus."
In his late 20s and mesmerised by Berlin's 24/7 party life, the German songwriter didn't get anything done. It turned out to be the most creative time of his life.
The legendary DJ looks back on 40 years behind the turntables - on the art of storytelling, the navigation between control and surrender.
“The best way is to DJ like a producer and to produce like a DJ.“
For their new album of baroque music, the ensemble found inspiration in Irish synth folk and Mariah Carey. Who cares what Handel would have thought?
A tiny tool caught every tremor and every hesitation of Garcia's hand. Her new album is a work of of fragile, heartfelt guitar noise.
Every improvisation is about the state of the world for saxophonist Nicole Johänntgen. It is also a “body language.”
Miramar's bittersweet bolero anthems find endless fascination in the "human social experience" and the relationship between joy and pain.
Shibuya's oeuvre questions the nature of death, offering a new romanticism through the eyes and ears of AI.
“I strongly believe that community is key to fighting injustice. Music is one way to build communities.”
As masters of Back to Back DJing, the French duo are constantly in conversation through music.
Jazz-Ambient-Rap-Drone composer Ralph Heidel still “fucks up a lot.” But he's confident “the audience still knows what I’m trying to say.”
In the prayer-like realm of “Moya,” Selaocoe translates African musical languages to the cello.
"Before we think too hard about freedom we should start by focusing on kindness."
“I feed off the audience's energy, and amplify it through the music. It’s a constant exchange.“
The legendary French composer and arranger (Serge Gainsbourg, Françoise Hardy) still writes music "like they did in the 17th century."
The almost frighteningly intense noise-rock of the Dutch trio is inspired by a longing for the unexpected.
Improvisation is everywhere on Ebba Åsman's hip-hop-infused torch songs. But she doesn't need to sound like her jazz heroes to honour them.
"I’m definitely revealing deep secrets and singing about uncomfortable truths."
"Sound is one of society’s core expressions. It’s one of its identification marks."
A conversation about “sucking music through the pores," becoming a sound field, and extreme sonic experiences.
With the trio Cici Arthur, Cummings connects with his inner world – and his experiences with the "shittier aspects of showbusiness."
"If producion gets a lot more easy, it's gonna take the fun out of it."
"You have to live a very full life to channel something meaningful to the audience."
"I’m often moved by sounds where the organic meets the digital."
"Music gives us the strength to stand together against anyone who’s trying to destroy inclusivity and freedoms."
"I live right by the S-Bahn and listen to that for hours. It’s kind of irritating and comforting at the same time."
"I only believe in variations on what already exists. But the range of variation is infinite."
"We tend to use our imaginations so much more when receiving information through sound."
"We like to bring technology to the forefront and play with it."
"I like when the score is a little removed from what’s happening on screen."
"Ego is not about being the best. It just gives me a lot of self-awareness and self-confidence to be able to express myself."
"To sing is to convey a message from the soul - in any way the song calls for."
"We can’t just hide from it and hope it all works out."
“Drummers are natural leaders. They lead bands they play in even when it is not official.”
"In a time when developments tend to draw people apart, creating something as a democratic collective is, in itself, a political act."
"There is something in singing that makes humans similar to the wind, to birds, to the flow of water, to the falling of rain."
"I am always asking why things are so messed up? That topic is unfortunately always relevant."
“Reimagining our songs in a nonlinear environment and creating a two-way interaction between ourselves and the audience is very exciting for us.“
"Singing should be accessible to everyone - not only ‘allowed’ to a few."
"I wanted to record the lids of 20-30 coffins slamming shut. The label and sound engineer refused to help me."
"The evolution of human music may go back to sex. This would bring the music of other species further inside our radius of understanding."
"I try to sublimate negative feelings via music. When I come to my family, my friends, my tribe, I won’t put these things on them."
“My goal was to compose loop-based music that is calming and meditative but never dull.“
"It’s incredible to think that something I created nearly three decades ago still resonates with people."
"Punk and Hip Hop stand for the same thing: breaking the rules and doing things your way."
"My intentions for using silence are very different from those of John Cage."
“Avoiding trends and focusing on authenticity is key to taking electronic music into the future.“
“Hip Hop is the largest and most comprehensive subculture that has ever existed.“
"Being innovative and having a personal voice is part of the tradition. It isn't opposed to it."
“If you only have 3 or 4 elements, but they are used deliberately, you can unravel the flavor layers the longer you play the track.“
“The conception that 4/4 is kind of the “normal“ thing is super unrealistic.”
“Being an artist means offering a more or less unique experience that truly reflects who you are.“
"I’m obsessed with what it all means. Trying to understand and find deep appreciation in our total existence."
"There is only one rule: does the music have an effect on me? Anything that doesn't fulfil this rule can go."
"I prefer a song that is poorly written, even intentionally bad, rather than a song that is trying to be good but is mediocre."
"These are more than mere recordings. They are a narrative of a rapidly changing landscape."
“In Brazil I make my beats way more percussive. In China, the clap is the most important part in the groove rather than the kick.“
"Christian's hurdy gurdy rhythm reminded me of the Agikuyu tribe from Central Kenya."
“I owe much of my ability to be caring toward others to learning the violin.“
"Intercultural collaborations push me to reinvent my role as a musician every single time."
“I have never played the same set twice. I even used to never play the same track twice.“
“The rustling of wind through trees, birdsong, and human voices are not separate elements. They're part of a cohesive soundscape.“
“My love of this music never subsides. I just have to wade through a lot of shit in order to find it.“
"People think that Krautrock must have a motorik beat. But there was so much more new and fresh stuff in Krautrock."
“Autobahn is still special to me.“
"Most of the feedback I get is, “this song helped me with a breakup.” Sounds right to me."
“I have to go in without any expectations - I always seem to find something unexpected.“
"Music is a form of communication. Sometimes you even communicate with yourself."
"When my second daughter was born, I created all kinds of compositions to the rhythm of a heart beat monitor!"
“I thrive and offer only sounds; nothing more, nothing less”.
"Music remains an irreplaceable and singular trance for me—a gateway to the fifth dimension."
"The technological palette is getting extended by AI tools. Maybe you’ll end up with a Python programmer in your next band."
"Writing in Afrikaans for the first time was an eye-opening experience. I discovered a new kind of openness in my voice."
"I strive for the playing to be more informed by my ideas than what I am able to do on the instrument."
"Sound design is is just one piece of the puzzle. Creating something emotionally compelling or memorable should come first."
"Jazz, for me, is a reminder to live with purpose, spontaneity, and a deep respect for the beauty of imperfection."
“Every genre has its own rules. But somehow we always like to break them.“
“Everyone has their own way to fight their demons. For me, dancing is one of the healthiest ways to do that.“
"I like krautrock's non-dogmatic approach to music. Everyone has music in their mind."
“I’m not an entertainer—I’m here to share my musical taste and ensure people have a good time on the dance floor.“
“I didn’t hear my tinnitus anymore when I stopped fearing it.“
For Meravi, the horn is an instrument which requires a tight bond with its performer.
"The performer is in conversation with the composer. It is NOT a one-way street!“
“I love discovering a material, a surface. Finding its acoustic openings, trying to make it sing.”
“If I should ever find myself incapable of cherishing the beauty of the natural world, this will be the beginning of my downfall as a human.“
"When words might be ambiguous, music has an intuitive, emotional power! Songs have both!"
"Neu! and Can really opened my ears to the liberating power of repetition."
“Field recording is a fantastic exercise in listening beyond the structures we’re trained to recognize in music.“
“The only reason I record my own music is to play it in concert.“
For Giridhar Udupa, playing the Ghatam is a very physical and immersive experience.
"I love the white noise of waves crashing on the shore. It's as though earth is sighing."
"It’s when we stop trying to find answers and stay in the question that we really gain access to creation."
"I always thought Rothko was the perfect artist."
“My fascination with the avant-garde grew as I learned of artists who really shook up expectations and social constructs.“
“The spiritual element of this music, its transcendental power, is a way of life.“
"Numerous albums we released are about the dialogue between cultural roots and the quest for an unknown, new sound."
“Everytime I sit behind my kora, I leave this world and enter another one.“
"I don’t need to sound like someone else—I’m happy with what my voice can do."
“Translating Kraftwerk's vocal melodies to surf music was a challenge.“
"Singing is liberating. Speaking is something we have to do to get along mostly."
“Minor keys transport my thoughts to realms that are sublime and introspective.“
"I'm trying to create sonic worlds. Textured palettes, and sounds that can also be imagined as symbols."
"I experience music making and releasing as one sort of long state of creative life."
"We feel closer to a group unconsciousness than to a group consciousness."
“Minimalism is about more than owning fewer things. It’s about focusing on what truly matters.“
"There’s something about a rich, deep and rolling bassline that feels grounding."
“The true transformational aspect of art is the idea filtered through the body.“
“I can't make music that seems like I'm living someone else's life.“
“Jazz has a wide spectrum. However the jazz police can be picky and discriminatory.“
"Through music, we express the parts of ourselves that words or daily tasks can’t reach."
"In the Bahai temple in Evanston, I could hear people breathing more than 20-30 feet away from me."
"Drums are my favourite part in songs. But it really is the opposite of my strength in singing."
“Imagining a new world based on healing and care will require an endless capacity for improvisation.“
“What would Joy Division sound like if a 60s surf band were to play it?“
“It’s crucial to understand your own sound before you let anyone else tamper with it.“
“There's something irreplaceable that comes from live music.“
“Hooking up random wires to organisms is not convincing to me.“
"The way we react to each other forms something quite uncertain. It can be very pleasing or rather disturbing."
"I can’t just sit down and write music like it's an office job. The moment has to be right."
"As soon as I need to think hard about how to say this or what to do there, the magic for me is gone."
"When a nation burns people alive and the press say nothing, it's left to artists to voice the sadness and the horror."
"Key to me in improvising is toying with music’s affective simulacra to create impressions of a life of feeling."
“Jazz is a personal way of life - authentic and deeply rooted, yet free from the usual clichés.“
"I like to make the distinction between when something needs to be performed and when it needs to be drawn in. There’s always a place for both."
"A singer is a messenger. Your only goal is to make sure the message gets through."
"There’s something irresistible about experimenting with dials and buttons. It’s not just play. It's how we learn."
"The ability to customize, experiment, and constantly push the boundaries of sound is what keeps me inspired."
"Part of the deal of being together in a band is actually being together."
"It’s always important to acknowledge the roots of this music. It’s Black American Music."
"Speaking and singing out is what we use to connect with each other. We should all respect this kind of power."
“My least favorite sound as a child was the banging of pots and pans in the kitchen. It used to send me into a fury.“
"Improvisation is expression. It touches the soul."
"I really dislike fundamentalists who judge artists for wanting to experiment with different genres."
“Sometimes I trust myself to go down the rabbit hole. Sometimes I don’t trust myself at all and will still go down the hole.“
“I look at singing as if it was working out: I just make sure to get my reps in.“
“ I try to use all of my feelings and emotions while making music.“
"The guitar, the studio—they’re tools to unlock something beautiful."
"We don’t try to hold on to the music with a clenched fist, but rather in an open palm."
“Improvisation in jazz isn't just about solos anymore. It’s about creating entire soundscapes.“
"I often view my music as sculptures—frozen in time, capturing the essence of a specific moment."
"Making music often feels like an archeological process."
“You can’t be liked by everyone. So I just focus on the people who do!”
"I couldn’t speak because it was too painful. So I put it all to music."
"We began performing improvised. It was only after a few years that we decided to officially begin as a group."
“Groove doesn’t come when you’re consciously trying to create it. It appears when you let go.“
“I have the ability to calm my music down. But for this album I chose not to.”
“Modern jazz is no longer confined to a genre. It embodies a creative spirit where experimentation is key.“
“Timekeeping is not about following the right bpm. It’s about how it feels in your body.”
“The line between sound and music should be blurred. If there is a clear line, the possibilities become extremely limited.”
"There is no influence of technology on our performance. That's our signature."
“A minimalist approach allows me to push myself while I compromise my comfort.“
“New ideas are intersections of many different ideas and data points that collide and surface on the mind.“
"The sound of refrigerators has always comforted me. When the fridge comes on, I have a real sense of home."
"I am seeking the ability to transition from music to visual art and vice versa without pause or need to recalibrate."
"People talk about sound neutrality. But it doesn’t really exist."
"There were some dark and stressful things happening. But I kept on and things got lighter.”
"Music has a way into our body and into our hearts that words will never have."
"Words have their own melodies and weight. When we form sentences it gets heavier."
"I’m a fan of speaking the truth. One should never be afraid of trying and sharing ideas and thoughts."
"Taking a sound-focused approach to improvisation allows for unlimited growth."
"Electronic music has a kind of pull. It pulls the mind into different places."
"We often think of something being created as not having existed before. But we have infinite ingredients out there."
"Everything that happens in life is an inspiration to compose music."
"I'm all about the actual performance. I want to know that the music is real."
"Disco has its own depth—whether it’s the production, how it brings people together, or how it reflects the culture of its time."
"I don’t want to travel where most composers go."
"The sound of frying in a pan is beautiful in my ears, It can be very diverse and dynamic."
“As a DJ you can make people step out of their boundaries - how sexy is that for a job description?“
"The key to improvisation is to release yourself. And when you've been released—who knows what’s gonna come out?"
“Music is about emotions, a narrative, a beginning and an end. Sound deals with what is there, what occupies the space.”
"There’s a moment of stillness after a release. You’ve given so much of yourself to something, and now it’s out there on its own."
"A lot of the records we love have little imperfections. They are not any less amazing for it."
"We launched our label, and one of the biggest clubs in Paris agreed to give us the keys to the club once every two months. We couldn’t believe it."
"The matrix is coming. It's great and weird."
"I'm not sure there are rules for sound design. I'm also not sure there are rules for harmony."
"What artists are trying to sell as spiritual performances is full of shit. But in a cute way."
"If we prioritised listening over looking, our world would bloom with deeper connections and understanding."
"We’re absurdly lucky to be here. So why do we flirt continually with the end?"
"It's not exciting to do what you can. It's exciting to do what you can't."
"Sight without sound or the other way round would not be the full experience for me."
"You have to balance thinking and emotion. Neither should take over."
"As long as there are ideas that excite us we can keep doing it."
"Sound comes at us from everywhere. In each unraveling instant, we rummage through that pile instinctively, we focus and we discern."
"All my collaborations are first and foremost human adventures."
"Music can't be touched or seen. It's important to deal with that."
“I believe that my new club Surreal is a unique experience in club culture."
"We're in the midst of a renewal of the experience that artists want their audiences to enjoy."
"Giving yourself limitations is a great way to be creative. It pushes you to dig deeper."
"Music is a place where I am fully there. Everything should be possible."
"It can get intense. But everyone is striving for the best possible outcome."
"We are constantly searching for ways to make a better world through questioning ourselves, our fellow humans and the things we build and destroy."
"I like the feel and smell of vintage instruments. It seems they have old spirits living in them."
“I do not find it useful to record many versions of the same thing. It makes me lose interest in what I’m doing.”
"I hate to stay in the same place for too long."
"Everyone knows that I don’t really do edits. It puts all musicians in a different mindset."
"I don't see the point of making music if it doesn't leave a mark."
“I used to be able to write ANYWHERE. Now I need a completely empty desk and three uninterrupted hours.”
"My spine has twisted around my saxophone. I’ve literally grown together with it."
“DJing is the only time I feel fully switched off from the noise of the outside world.“
“The humanization of electronic music separates basic from advanced artists.”
"If original is something that’s never been done before, I don’t think anyone would enjoy it."
Holding Space via Sound: A Deep Dive into the Work of Producer and Songwriter Kelly Lee Owens.
"We wrote a tune in a water tower with a 20 second reverb. Unfortunately, we can’t play it anywhere else."
"The ideal setting for the lyrics of my new album? A music that disappears."
"No one chooses to look how they’re born. But what they have to say and believe is their choice."
"Since I started playing free improvised music, I have become more accepting of myself."
"I wouldn't be surprised if Bach eventually told me: Nah, sorry, not my cup of tea."
“I could never lie to myself. I want to create with sincerity and honesty in my heart."
Experiences Only: A Deep Dive into the Work of songwriter and producer Ty Segall.
"In an improvisation, every participant is putting a musical offering into the mix. All the others are called to respond to it."
"The lines between inventing and inventively re-arranging are blurry."
“Electronic music gives me the freedom to express myself exactly the way I hear it. No musician would be able to do that for me."
"It’s not necessarily about fun, but about creating something meaningful."
“If we don't take steps outside our comfort zone, we will never discover the beauty of uncertainty."
“In architecture school I was creating stories of people who’d experience the building. It’s a very similar thing the DJ does."
"On the Caribbean coast, if a neighbor plays loud music, sometimes that's viewed as a gift to other people."
For The Harpoonist, the Harmonica's reeds allow it to soar into the heavens.
"We produce most of our music in a grim, windowless, and slightly smelly rehearsal room. We find it very conducive to work."
"I seriously cannot care about the current state of electronic music. It's absolute garbage."
“People sometimes see this band as a novelty act. But this is the music we all love."
“You can only give a piece a certain length of time. You just have to take a chance."
"After 30 seconds, we looked at each other. We knew that something was happening."
“We bring some fully fleshed, half fleshed and some bare-boned skeletons!"
For Ghenwa Nemnom, the Qanun is a complex instrument with a wide spectrum of tonalities and keys.
"Who wants to spend time in an environment that does not sound good?"
The Montreux Jazz Festival's archive is one of the music world's biggest treasures. It is also at the heart of a paradox.
“Sometimes when you're recording, you ask yourself: Who is this? Is it really me!?"
"I knew that whatever was brought to the table would enhance the project, presenting ideas and perspectives I would never have thought of."
"I love the sound of ice cubes moving in a big, solid whiskey glass."
"I find the rhytm of escalators quite interesting. Clack clack clack clack …"
"Sometimes, interpretation consists in removing yourself from the performance."
“If I don’t bring my honest self to the table, it won’t make it."
"The magic only happens when you let the other senses go and let hearing take over."
“One of the things that attracted me to England was the rain!“
"Music moves through me. It determines how I experience the world."
"The most memorable collaborations take you out of your comfort zone and make you grow. But they don't necessarily give the best results."
"We always try to start from a place of simplicity."
"Incorporating African fabric is more than the aesthetic. It is pride for my country of origin, it is celebrating the uniqueness and vibrancy of Africa."
"Some view the drum set as a collection of many instruments. That's a weird way to view it. To me, the drum set is one instrument."
"Our job is to connect all the dots. The output is the input."
"Jazz means freedom, self expression. It’s all about the imperfections, not about being perfect."
"We share the same enemy. We are fighting the same enemy. So my heart was open to write about this topic."
"My father was an abstract painter. I think that influence is present in my playing."
"I really like the noise when our dogs eat their crunchy food. It is soothing in a way."
"Usually, what seems like a mistake, makes sense in the end. When it doesn’t – I’m in trouble."
"In electronic music, we are still pioneers."
"Electronic music can possess a specific kind of nostalgia. It feels like an open door to write something new."
"You don't need infinite sounds. You need the right ones."
"We do not choose to be surrounded by sound. We already live inside it. It is our ocean."
"I didn’t set out to be a musician. It felt inevitable."
“I want to shine a light on things that nobody wants to look at."
"To discover someone's vibration or 'natural tonality' goes a long way into truly getting to know one another."
"All I really long for in a singer is truthfulness. If I don't believe them, it’s pointless."
"There is probably no music without some layer of improvisation. At least when it is played by humans."
"Me delivering a vocal is me giving back to life unconditional love."
"I never feel lonely in the studio. The music always keeps you company."
"Being from Detroit helps me understand this oversaturated music market - because we were the first to do it."
"Writing your own music leads to the deepest exploration of improvisation."
"Singing is very compulsive – like hunger or some kind of physical addiction."
"Music feels like freedom. Improvisation feels like free falling."
"An architect creates works that occupy a space. I create sculptures that fit in the flow of time and perception."
"There are so many exciting stories that have not yet been told."
"The cyber world is trying to catch up with what has always been there in Africa since ancient Kemetic civilisations."
"The element of disconnection from one another through earbuds still troubles me."
"I want collaborators to have complete musical freedom. Too many words in advance can destroy that."
"My singing voice is another part of me entirely. It's a truer soul voice."
"I seek to master the breath that brings me freedom in my singing."
"After the first record, I had no plans to ever record as Ceiling Spirits again."
"My voice has no replacement. I take care of it like a newborn baby."
"When improvising, it’s almost impossible to be non-authentic."
"Songs as we create them in the western world are in effect mathematical equations."
"The process of knowing oneself is related to the process of growing as a musician."
"A great voice can sound good on a bad microphone. But a bad voice can’t sound good on a great microphone."
"It's like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. I like to destroy it from time to time and put it together in a new way."
"I collaborate almost exclusively with enthusiastic specialists. They don’t need to care about time and money."
"The voice is such an exciting medium to work with. All at once it has so much power and flexibility as well as fragility and precarity."
"Sometimes it's a little limiting to just work with your own voice."
"Music in school shouldn’t be optional. It’s a part of our being."
"I’m always disappointed when a record isn’t just two side-long instrumental pieces."
"Live, people can really surrender to the music."
Dexter+Franz about a reel to reel tape deck with a monumental impact on workflow.
"When someone feels something and they can convey it authentically - I’m so with them."
“As a woman in a male-dominated musical genre, I have been isolated and patronised from a young age.“
"I call it the buzz: Frequencies that touch us, remind us of home, or a lover, the ocean, a feeling of bliss."
“We try to keep that little light of mutiny burning.“
“DJing used to be very mechanical. So I decided to do the opposite: to give my audience everything.“
“Creativity has a lot to do with dedication and the will to work. Even if that sounds very disenchanting.“
“I find something magical in not knowing too much.”
“An evening of YouTube can really push forward something buried within you.“
“I actually think I am rescuing a song from death. I am tasked with its life.“
"Everyone’s personal history and ideas about what it means to be part of the diaspora are and should be very different."
“I love the initial burst when you get an idea. That's the best time to record it.“
"Singing is the most primal, fundamental, soul-expressive thing a human can do."
“Not taking a stand against what’s happening in the world is convenient.“
"I think we should teach self sufficiency in schools. Not how to sell yourself on Tik Tok."
"There is no ‘fix’ or ‘update’ for the legacies in these technologies."
"If I’m not focused and putting my whole body into it, it doesn’t come out right."
“I can’t stand going through manuals to learn about how things work. I just start twisting knobs.”
"I once picked up Kraftwerk with my car and tooted the horn twice - a cover version of the introduction to 'Autobahn'. Nobody noticed."
“My first serious song was about my guinea pig that I had to give away. That was a very sad time for me.“
"Bands like Radiohead or Phoenix seem to have a good internal balance of friendship, ideas, hard work and method. We like that."
“I see the end result, draw a path in my mind and start walking towards it.“
"If we'd shift our focus from sight to listening, our world would undergo profound transformations."
"A main challenge of the future is how to give more space to the sound of nature."
"My singing has improved since I started learning to tap my feet while singing."
"We’ve never had a drummer. Maybe that's why I put emphasis on percussive phrasing."
"There is something cathartic about beating the hell out of something."
"We think we’re controlling the process. But the result confirms that we’re really not."
"There are still so many great songs out there. I want to go grab one of them before someone else takes it."
"Being in the creative flow is the most tangible experience of what we don’t understand."
"I totally have misophonia. But no worries, I’ve found a support group online."
"Mixing up a negative world view with “realism“ can result in the reversal of progress."
"You can't replicate human creativity that easily with artificial means."
"The myth of “individual genius” disappears in music improvised in collectivity."
"Groove, Swing and rhythmic feel? To me they’re just concepts. Made up belief systems."
"You have to trust your brothers and sisters to have your back. No matter what."
"We don’t plan how we fall in love - that’s what makes it magical."
"It often feels like a song has been entrusted for you to write from the ether."
"This studio was an investment. But no customer will think I'm taking money for something that won't sound any better than it was before."
"Each clothing style can carry its own narrative about who we are or who we aspire to be."
"Some of my best melodies were given to me by tomatoes and trees. That’s not a joke."
"Choosing constraints is a very important part of the creative process."
"Hearing requires more patience, and curiosity. It might help us discover information that is more precise "
"Recording has created ghosts who live among us."
"If I am lucky and don’t get distracted, I only need to reveal what’s already there."
"Songs are an artistic expression. Not everything can be taken literally."
"Silence is a virtue, a very high one. Silence is closer to the truth."
"Almost anything can fit in electronic music. But not everything makes sense."
"I hope the people attending my solo concerts feel that we build a friendship. That we’re in this together."
"The most effective method is to just shove an instrument in my hand and leave me alone."
"That space between natural and extended timbres is one of my lifetime fascinations."
"When the audience sings along, we are creating a collective space and colliding energy."
"There’s a lot of creativity that goes into a cover — it’s like a creative puzzle!"
"Setting up the mood and the sound is probably the most important part of improvising solos for us."
"Everytime I hear the old macbook air keyboard sound, I want to smash it to pieces."
"I love losing myself within a world where there is no absolute control."
"To be considered a part of a lineage would be the ultimate compliment for me."
"Silence helps us refresh ideas and generate new ones. It’s an important part of the journey of life."
"I wanted you to feel: This thing is alive. It's moving."
"I have to set some sort of limits. Otherwise I’d just spend a whole week putting phasers on fart samples."
"The human voice is able to connect with us in ways that are beyond comprehension."
"Everyone applauds vocal acrobatics. But real joy, anguish, or anger when someone sings, move me more."
"When words fail to express my anguish, music becomes a powerful outlet."
"Some people may think that this music could easily be performed by human performers with traditional instruments. This is not the case."
"It’s so lovely when ideas come. But then you’ve got to finish it!"
"Sadly it has now become an AI arms race instead of designing ethically from the core."
"Can there be anything more soothing than the voice of a loved one?"
"I’m really attracted to intimate music. As if it’s a love letter."
"My craft is to squeeze a tear from the audience's eyes - not necessarily from my own."
"It was music that helped me in the most difficult time, alone, in the most terrible thoughts. I was looking for answers in the songs."
“I like hit records and want to make them.“
"The unique energy and emotion of the moment can't be entirely replicated or replaced."
Luke Gomm about a workstation with the power of a DAW in a portable drum machine
"I think if you're understood immediately, then you're doing something wrong."
"Friendship and the ongoing cultivation of respect, kindness, and warmth is everything."
"I was so angry at a random man for shouting at me once. I just had to go home and write about him."
David Baron about an analog modular synth that encourages chambermusical layering.
"If I tidy the house and everything is neat, I can play and write music better."
"The great drummers you can hear a mile off. It’s like a signature – you just know it’s them."
"It alarms me when someone’s singing voice differs drastically from their speaking voice."
"Something inside of me wants or needs to come out. I allow that to happen."
"I’m typically sceptical of planning. It often assumes that we know more than we do."
"How precisely we communicate as humans is the very core of what makes our species stand out."
"We are now close friends - even though we haven't met in person yet!"
"When there is something wrong with my voice, I don’t feel like myself."
“I may die tomorrow. I don’t want to not have been thinking about it before.”
"A song is a roller coaster. By the end of it, you should have enjoyed the ride."
"If we both draw a circle the same way, how will we discover new shapes?"
"I start with what I hear in my head - never with a template."
"Sometimes I imagine the tone shooting out of my third eye like a laser beam."
"Electronic music has its limitations."
Mathematics of the Spiritual Realm
"I think my focus on lyrics is unusual. Sound and musical ideas are a distant second to me."
"Improvisation is the easiest route into letting the real you out."
"If you can do anything, where do you start?"
"Time signatures are like a fixed canvas. But the most powerful rhythmic musics are not structured under those same parameters."
"Words matter. Human communication and language possess incredible power."
"Practical application with your own experiences is what makes the difference."
"Listening without analytical understanding inspires our imagination, our intuition."
"Songwriting is like fishing - you kinda go where the fish are."
"I have a habit of making a big deal out something small. It doesn’t take much to inspire me!"
"Let’s experiment, fuck shit up + blow some minds."
"It's always fascinating to see how a demo ends up on Spotify."
Balearic Vibes from the Bavarian Sausage Border
"I even think of my solo playing as being part of a big togetherness."
"Sound in movies is still underrated. Sometimes the sound takes precedence over the image."
"Songs have a sender and a receiver. They rely on shared experience. What happens when that fundamentally changes?"
"It’s not only about artistic collaboration. It’s also about sharing values, and vibes and opening our heart."
"The tragedy of death is a spectrum in some ways. But in other ways there is a fundamental tragedy to all life ending."
"We were gravitating towards a cacophonous style."
"It is important to say something plainly if that’s the way it needs to be said."
"Our songs are not fixed. They can take on multiple different “finished” states."
Benjamin Damage about a hardware sequencer capable of amazing controlled chaos
“The nucleus of our work ethic: The ability to tell the other what they created is absolutely terrible.”
"To outsource human creativity to technology marks an end to the world."
"The research was crazy! I was seeking endlessly through collector’s lists, fanzines, databases - through everything!"
"Technology, technology! Can we all stop whinging and try to enjoy ourselves?"
"An important part of the creative process is forgetting."
"The spirit cannot be measured and cannot be seen. That's where the surprises come from."
"My happiness and well-being are strongly correlated with my ability to create."
"I’m working on something that uses 5 different tuning systems at once. There’s some real questions as to whether I’m going to get through it alive."
Predictability is Pointless
“Club music of the future? Frequencies outside the human range. Infrasonic, ultrasonic sounds.”
"Every sound resembles bringing something to life and letting it die again."
"Sometimes, you have to negotiate in the music. When you play alone, you negotiate with yourself."
Harald Björk about a quirky polyphonic analog synthesizer that invites you into the wilderness.
"Improvisation embodies the humanity and uncertainty that can often be lost in electronic music."
"If I am not continually creating, I am lost, I don't feel like myself."
“DJing for me has always been in the body. Some of my favorite DJs are amazing dancers.”
For David Bergmüller, the lute requires you to take strength away rather than use power.
"Music vibrates through your ears and leads directly into your body and soul."
"I don’t find it exciting when a machine does it all for you - you may as well listen to YouTube tutorial music."
"Composing music is like a drug. I want to feel that way again and again."
“A million times I tried to quit music entirely. But it always found me again.”
Ben Carey about a modular synthesiser with a unique sound and a heavy punch
"The very best songs come in the same time or less that it would take to sing them."
Pig&Dan about an odd-in-the-best-way modular studio that's off the charts wild.
“Stop trying to make everything perfect. Nothing has more soul than an imperfection."
"I like the idea of not editing too much - putting the hard work in the writing of the music."
Disfreq about an analog synthesizer with a sonically expansive dual filter
A plan for change from Eno's keynote at IMS Ibiza
"I have a terrible habit of rarely using the same kick drum. It has cost me months of my life."
"Our friendship is the most important thing. Music comes second."
“Not all artists on Glücklich VI had their breakthrough yet. I am on a mission to help with that.”
"The impulse to create something comes from all sorts of places and emotions … sometimes if I’m just bored."
"For marine animals, sound pollution will generate more and more problems. It is compromising their full life cycle."
For Reginald Chapman, the trombone is a rhythmic reinforcer – and an instrument of freedom.
"If there were ever definitive interpretations – why then would musicians go on stage and play their hearts out?"
"In the future, moods and tastes will be fully controlled by A.I. But robots have taste."
“We would scream into the microphone at rehearsals. Later we would try our best to decipher what we might have been saying.”
Golden Gratitude
"I only have one rule in the studio: To always turn off my phone."
"How are you going to practice the unknown? You can't do that."
“There are moments in life, where a sound or an image will demand attention. It’s those moments that become music.“
"This is what we identify with: Having a revolutionary practice in art.“
"Between the feminine and masculine, the laid back and the dressed up – that's where I feel most like myself."
“The melodies evolve slowly. Until, at some mysterious point, they are ready to be recorded.”
"I wouldn’t say I have a particular interest in extremes. Who am I to discriminate among sounds!"
"The main challenge for me is to not play the things that I know will work.”
“The creative state? It is when I feel in touch with what it is to be alive.”
"We definitely make some bad songs. But we always give the ideas space, and enjoy the process.”
"Failure is deeply integrated into my practice. I even named a track after it."
"My Spirit and my acknowledgement of the universe and all that surrounds me is key."
“Technology should not make you a lazy composer. It's an aide, not a crutch.”
“To be of service to one’s art is the artist’s both gift and dilemma.”
“The more I compose, the harder it becomes to impress myself.”
“Autotune is a profoundly empowering effect for some artists.”
“Playing in a string quartet takes immense trust in your colleagues.“
"Music is the most immaterial thing and the most tangible thing at the same time. Nothing can be compared to it.”
“My studio is a space I could live in if I wanted to.”
“There can be a tendency to always want to make something ‘better.’ But often that can go the other way.“
"I try to make music a very personal adventure.”
“I don't think God should take the blame if what I came up with sucks!“
“Aren’t the demos always the best versions anyway?“
"Creation is like giving birth. You have to face the depression afterwards.”
"On the modular, there has to be a thought before any action. You can look for inspiration in a preset.”
"Just like we have no control over life, we have no control over music."
"Ideas come to me in quiet. But creative accomplishment comes in a hail of drums, riffs, and screams!"
“Creativity is about making something that wasn't there before. Routines can not be a part of it.”
"My instrument probably wants something from me. I should respect that.”
"Ultimately you’re likely to never be truly satisfied - no matter what you do."
"There are articulations and phrases that make me sound who I am. I am not scared to repeat them.”
“On some level I think we should have EPA standards for noise pollution just like we have standards for air pollution."
“These songs felt like they were pushing through my veins.”
“For artists, or journalists, music is an endless stream of energy. We're constantly borrowing creativity from it.”
"A democratic approach can be very tiresome in a band context. It can cost years of productivity."
"When a new piece of music stirs within me, I feel it in my stomach."
“Words aren’t compassionate. They won’t offer solace — that’s what music does.”
"Recording August Dreams was risky. Like jumping out of an airplane together."
"The impulse to create is dialled into all of us within the band."
“Don't believe the hype! Quality, simplicity and emotions will always win in the long run.”
"The best thing is when I hear someone play a record I made in '94, and they make it fit into a set today."
"Control is the last thing I need."
"Uncovering what kind of album it’s going to be can be a little difficult."
“I may have it all laid out. Then, I walk into the room and change the entire game plan.”
“Lorde asked me to make some guttural sounds. She demonstrated this by basically turning into an amazing rabid animal.“
"Something sparks a memory - and everything about the song changes!"
"I might sing a line and realize: That’s what I want to write about."
“A studio should offer to you everything you need. Not everything you want.”
“I feel the fear of releasing this album. But the need to share these experiences is stronger.”
“Music sits in a totally different sphere to anything else in my life.“
“My focus is on how to protect natural environments and their soundscapes from human impact."
Brad Allen Williams about a massively popular instrument that doesn't have a single classical archetype
“If there is nothing coming at the moment, you haven't lived it yet to write about it.“
“Brainstorming with red wine makes a lot of sense.“
“Music expands a poem’s emotional reach. It is the place of wordless secrets, codes, maps and math.“
“Without music as an outlet, I would hold onto a lot of the feelings and triggers I picked up in the therapy room.“
“Rhythm is the most fundamental aspect. Traditional classical conservatory training does little to equip you for that reality.“
“It's always comfortable working with musicians you know. It feels like an old couple.“
"I like having more colors in the crayon box.”
"Sound immersion should become much more important in historical performance practice."
"There is only one correct note. Sometimes I spend an hour finding it."
“There is something transcendental about losing yourself to the moment and hyper focussing on listening.”
“What tool can have a deeper impact on creativity? Learning. Learning will help improve the creative output for any artist.”
"I insist on creating new art when I improvise. I hate when people pretend to have a language and stick to that.”
"I can't dream of anything better than incinerating myself in sound and spreading myself endlessly in ears and hearts.”
“It's fundamental to play each piece as if it were the very first time.“
“Tracks in a DJ set can nudge and catch each other. They transition seamlessly into an eternal track.“
"All I can do, is to be of service of the music. If I do a good job at that, the music will figure itself out.”
“I love how someone else can take your idea and run with it.”
“I wanted to change this music as little as possible. The girl who wrote it doesn't exist anymore.”
“I'm in a kind of auto hypnotic euphoric trance state when I'm creative.”
“I dreamt of a record store where I would find my holy grail. I have now found a way to print that record myself - as many copies as I want.”
"This is my kind of “spirituality”: How we are all connected through communication."
"Production techniques and the creative outside of the song can work in tandem in a beautiful way."
“Collaborating potentially comes from our furious need to connect.”
"Often the magic happens at night. So it helps that I live in a country with only 4 hours of sunlight in Winter!"
“In some theatres they know if I’m coming they’ll have to hang extra speakers.“
“Listening to music, I've had broken bones, bruises, and a car in a ditch. Creativity can be treacherous!”
“The best make it look easy. But they deceptively display taste.“
“I try not to think too much about the creative state. I'm afraid of spooking it, and scaring it off.”
“Art is made of illusion. Books were the first examples of Virtual Reality.“
"At some point, machines take control – and drive me to paradise!"
“Dolby Atmos is really overwhelming. You have to be careful not to get addicted.”
“No Tongues is an experiment. Strict control is not really possible.”
"I let go of equipment that I seem to ignore. Well at least I try to."
"When I’m low on ideas I always try to buy new hardware or software to find new inspiration."
"Music is not about creating an illusion. It is about investigating what is."
“When our ego gets small, it loses control over what we are doing. It lets us work in peace without judging every step.”
“As long as people are on the same page and honest, people write how they want to write ...“
“Everything we are capable of imagining we can also realise.”
“If your idea works, great. If it doesn’t, onto the next one.”
"My work is sometimes weird - I need a collaborator who wants to go there with me."
"My ultimate goal is to have a band with as many tuning systems as there are instruments."
“Some of my colleagues think suffering is the best factor for creating. This is very different for me.”
"I’m selfish. I just want to find the best and easiest ways to make original music."
"Our task as musicians is to take composing back from those people who produce music out of purely economic calculation."
“A lot of my best lyrics have come from the seed of something dumb.”
"Lyrics are the toughest part. What do I really have to say that millions of people need to hear?"
"When I was four, the resonance of a bass drum made my chest and belly vibrate. Right there, something awakened inside me."
"If I act belligerently at a dinner party, I shouldn’t be surprised if I don’t get invited back! Music-making is similar."
“Unleashed creativity may appear chaotic. But it can be an infinite source of new ideas.”
"Electronic music allows any sonic fantasy to become reality."
"Touring performers are subjected to similar conditions as athletes."
“The more an artist concerns herself with being “original”, the more likely she is to sound like someone else.”
"Engagement is the key to a meaningful life. Otherwise, why are we here?"
“In Fado, souls are communicating – in their own unique language.“
“I’ve listened to all our songs at least 100 times until they come out.“
"Sometimes I walk through the city and inhale the noise. Sound is all around us, it is in everything."
“With some of my music, there is a mixed feeling. It's very familiar. And yet, I don't know exactly how I did it.“
“Songwriting has a magic to it that is unexplainable. It is sort of like god with a small g.”
Dubokaj about a powerful mixing console with a silky sound.
Mads Kinnerup about a module that bridged the gap between analog and digital.
Lake Turner about a bulky organ with an inspiring feel from a bygone era.
“Your soul is taking over your mind when you’re creating something aligned with yourself. Like an orgasm is only a few seconds when you make love.”
“Roots music was an important impulse on modernity.”
“Playing with greats like Miles Davis and Jan Garbarek felt like coming home.“
Patricia Wolf about a synthesizer with effortless flow and almost limitless possibilities.
"It was going to be an album I made for my 19-year-old self. I didn't want to worry about anything other than making it feel right."
“After the completion of each of our last 5 albums, I’ve said: I’m not sure if I’ll ever write another song, the well is empty.“
“No vanity. Everything has to support the goal of celebrating the music.“
“On my new album there's what I call a word vomit song. The chords, words, and melody all came out in ten minutes.“
“I have a hard time to really let people in. Through music I can connect.“
“Some of our tracks take ten years before they are released.”
"The songs that cause the most torture are usually my favourite tracks."
"I disagree that I focus foremost on sound abstractly. This music still has intense melodic, rhythmic, harmonic components."
"Sometimes I have the strange experience of watching my fingers play, and asking myself: Who is doing this?"
“I’m less productive the bigger the studio is.”
“My eternal holy grail? Trying to find the future of disco.“
Can’t Fake the Funk
Creative Flexibility, Flexible Creativity
"When I was in a professional studio for the first time, the possibilities seemed endless. I still feel they are."
Halla Steinunn Stefánsdóttir about stretching collaboration to its limits on "strengur".
“A Juno-60 does not have many faces. But the few things a Juno can do are close to perfection.”
Moderat about the arguably most recognisable Drum Machine of all time.
"I would have no idea how to write a song if someone asked me to."
“We are already becoming cyborgs. Our intertwinement with machines is getting deeper every day.”
Theresa Wong about an instrument that feels like a soundbox with infinite possibilities.
“The most creative moments with equipment are when you don’t quite understand it.”
"It can be hard to know when a song is done. Especially when I’m posting sixty second fragments of half-written things online all the time."
“I was given 15 minutes at Abbey Road. I ended up getting enough stuff for 2 records.”
"The Doctor Who theme music shattered any preconceptions of traditional timbre."
"Imitation still remains a crucial ingredient for me."
"Bringing something fresh to a song is welcome. But you can‘t create a revolutionary national song if your brief is to write a romantic one."
"When I start composing, I almost never know where I’m going."
"What’s nice about music is the effort to uncover something so intangible. You’ll never be able to touch or see it."
"Every synth guitar, or midi guitar I’ve played, except for mine, completely sucks."
"We all hear voices in our head. They are private moments, some darker than others."
"One moment we are talking about our day, week, life. In the next, we are knee deep in sound."
"The idea of musicians as vessels for superhuman ideas is over rated."
"Music requires less personal interpretation. It doesn't require your intellect."
"I must create all the time. Doing nothing is something I just don’t know how to do."
"I'm a ditch digger in my own personal mythology: You just shovel dirt."
"It's important to remove the pressure that something should be perfect. It never is."
"I hear whole symphonies when the tube screeches and hallows."
"I wrote the majority of my record in a windowless room lit by a grow light."
"If the chemistry is right between director and musician, great moments of cinematic art can arise."
"I love losing control. I'm constantly looking for it."
"My remix is kind of like I’ve eaten a Debussy risotto. The rework is next day’s arancini balls."
"Often, I’ll be awake at night and my head begins to swim with ideas."
"It felt natural to write about extreme excess and greed."
Ancestral Connection
Tobias Fischer about an album that sacrificed itself for a higher goal.
"I knew this was going to be a challenge of the best possible kind - every note was dissected, and discussed."
"In the unknown, just guided by the moment – isn't that exactly where you want to be as a creative?"
"Getting started is like leaving the house: you just need one reason to do it. From there you can go anywhere."
"My pieces create spaces that one can enter, stay in and leave again. There is no true beginning or end."
Tobias Fischer about an album whose beauty turned into an object of hate.
“With live instruments and musicians, the music remains fluid until you record it.”
"Enjoy the failures as much as the successes. They are both pretty special."
"To make the music we want it to make, I have to resist certain temptations."
"Songwriting has been with me for so long. We miss each other if we spend too much time apart."
"Stars emerge, stars die. Just like working with analogue equipment."
Tobias Fischer about an album that was glorious and self-destructive at the same time.
"There are a million principles about improvisation. Some of them contradictory."
"Songwriting is one of the last forms of black magic left in this world."
"Once I've started working on a track, I can’t wait to finish it. It might be a bit like being pregnant."
“Instruments come first. What you might call creativity follows.”
"I am a classically trained flutist. Technology has completely changed my mind."
"30 seconds as a duo with Evan Parker realigned my atomic make up."
"Don’t get me wrong, I do like technology. I just have a very particular focus."
"We want to implement 100% of what we have in mind. Like a vision of a film."
"When my ex-husband listened to one of the songs, he broke down crying."
"I was messing about - which in turn became improvisation, of sorts."
"I think the element of surprise is fundamental. Isn't that why we make music?"
"It is not beauty that is going to save this world. It's music."
"I can cry my eyes out while I’m writing some of my saddest songs."
"Producers with the most broken, fucked up computers tend to make the best beats."
"Llistening to the environment is a different experience from listening to a pop song. It takes patience and practice."
"For us it’s really important to imagine the music before putting our hands on the instruments."
"Yes, I believe in the presence of spirituality in what I do."
"I hope to be able to make music on Mars one day."
"I often find myself looking ages for the right snare. It's a little bit like tinder."
"Music might be the most physical and direct earthly religious experience you can have."
"What if nothing comes? That fear now excites me."
"When a song is released it feels like it’s born again to me."
"We are very far from Prince’s vault."
"Technology can be in service of creativity. But the concept of surprise is human."
"In a film, I want the music to be the unspoken voice."
"Sometimes, the seed of a song will haunt me. I have to get it done to have some peace of mind."
"Sometimes technology stifles creativity. Especially when you're more into technology than music."
"Whether collaborating or working independently – we can expand ‘who we are.’"
"Life on earth never dies. It goes through stages of life and dormancy, remaining in a state of constant transformation."
"Music is as an instrument of union. It is a tool to demolish mind veils."
"What is the creative state like? I don't know. In fact, I'm not sure I would even want to know."
"Once free jazz exploded in my brain, it changed my perception of what music could be. It changed my life."
"I like it when it’s hard to tell if a piece of music is composed or improvised."
“The reason to collaborate is dangerous – to work with someone who is not ‘like’ you.”
"To know when a track is finished, when it feels right - that's a hundred million $ emotion!"
"Film music is like a magic trick - you know you’re being manipulated and the crazier it feels, the more wonderful it is."
"My rituals when writing novels? I have to feel good, and I can’t be hungover. When writing songs, I can be hungover."
"No amount of cycling, running, meditating, coffee or incense will help if you’re not happy inside."
"If a singer sings, “I love you,” and believes it, it can be the best line ever written."
"Sound challenges our beliefs of how the universe is supposed to be."
"I can reach part of myself in music that I can’t in other spheres of life."
"I'm like a sculptor. I look at the song and decide if it needs a different shaped nose or bigger ears."
"Africa is so rich in its native languages - and that’s a powerful thing!"
"You can transform a whole tone scale, a brown shoe, the blue sky or a rollercoaster.“
Into Non-Identifiable Space
"The experiment is greater than the plan. It always wins in the end."
Music helps a party. Music helps a funeral.
"We are god's creatures. Not selfmade egomaniacs."
"Medicine and music can help us live betters lives."
"Commitment is a very important act. It allows you to defend noble causes."
"I never like to build an archive of projects. To me it is one of the worst habits in music production."
"I hardly ever have ideas in advance. I create everything from scratch."
"If we ever know what we’re gonna do next, that's the day we should call it quits."
"House music is one good idea that you make last for 7 minutes."
"It doesn’t feel right to plan too much. It takes the fun out of things."
"When creating, a story is being told to the creator - not by the creator."
"Little else even approaches the weight and base of sound. I am obsessed, moved and driven by it."
"In the old days an artist would use her skillset for her entire life. Not so any more."
Specific Rooms in Non-Existent Spaces
"I always like to be surrounded by my machines."
"I have a lot of ideals. But being creative is not one of them."
“We have woven a kind of privilege into the idea of art making that is nonsense”
"We are spiritual beings with a human experience - not the other way around."
"It's very hard to make the sound of a dental surgery appealing. But it's a challenge we are willing to take."
"I know I write in a simple way. But every word is there for a reason."
"Sometimes the ideal state and the creative thing are just taking a few deep breaths."
"Hungry Eyes was written in 10 minutes. It was just a flow that came through me."
"I like to be a little bit hungry - and just a little bit physically uncomfortable."
"By making cities quieter, they become more acoustically boring. A little noise is good for us."
"In group settings, it’s good to adapt and adjust, but above all, be yourself.'
"I think I'd get bored of doing one thing only."
"We’re trying to document a time in our lives, rather than create a masterpiece."
"Human improvisation is the greatest synth modulation possible!"
"Hip-hop, Garage, Grime - the whole essence is built on samples."
"I like music when it’s weird and poetic at the same time."
"We have a lot of "unfinished" projects. We somehow always want to start fresh."
"What makes lyrics good? When I can know the person by the words they speak."
"Music opens the portal to another dimension of spirituality."
"I'll write one line and realise - wow. That's how I feel about that."
"If I move the microphone only a tiny bit in one direction, everything's affected."
"My music is a call to action. Black love is revolutionary."
"You don't have to reach a million people. Start local. Start with you."
"It’s about understanding when to remove sound as much as it is to know when to have it in."
Either and Both
"Electronic tools will be the end of the traditional 12-tone equal system."
"Machines could come up with a new great song. But it wouldn’t be inventive."
Keep the Flow Going
"It felt like we were sitting in a futuristic spaceship!"
"Without technology, I am nothing."
"It was like trying to imagine a color outside the visible spectrum."