The Monthly Digest includes a clutch of accumulated new music reviews, this year’s Halloween Playlist selection, a piece from the Archives and jukebox selection of anniversary celebrating LPS.
Photo Credit: Seismes photographed by Flavie Herbreteau
___/NEW MUSIC REVIEWS____
(All Entries in Alphabetical Order)
Brian Bordello ‘Who Killed Kurt Cobain’
(Metal Postcard Records) 6th October 2026
So, I was wondering with such a propounded rather than questioning title (the ? being missing from the title) if Brian Bordello was going to join in with the ghoulish online obsessive conspiracy set who cry foul play, nee murder about their iconic martyr, or, was going down the same vivid but multilayered route as the artist Sandow Birk and his gruesome, near cartoonish, depiction of Kurt Cobain’s death. Brian has gone for something even less clear, disarmed by the manner in which he’s recorded his first single in a long while, and more than a bit muggy and muddy.
Birk’s The Death of Kurt Cobain, Seattle oil on canvas artwork, painted not long after Cobain’s suicide in April of 1994, leaves little to the imagination – a riff on, and inspired by Harry Wallis’s 1856 painting of The Death of Chatterton, an even younger poet who famously committed suicide. Sensationalist even, Birk, brought up on the punk surf culture and street life of Southern California in the 70s and 80s, was influenced by the docudramas and the intrusive TV of the times. Brian doesn’t so much as follow this line but is candid and does play on the obsessions of fans who just can’t accept the most simple or plausible answer to their musical idol’s death: contrary to all the evidence.
Cobain’s fatalistic choices seemed inevitable after untold overdoses, and several earlier suicide attempts (according to Courtney Love). It’s a convoluted history, filled with contradictory accounts: inevitably coming to Netflix soon. And leaves room to doubt Kurt’s intentions. Though the facts as they stand support Kurt asking his old pal Dylan Carlson to obtain the shotgun that finally did him in, but for “self-protection” purposes. Whatever the motivation, a shotgun is some statement to make; the police photos, some only released to the public gaze decades later, are horrific and vivid; the effects of shooting your face off only too sickening to gawp at. Such a violent dispatch for a sensitive soul; perhaps knowing that there would be no way to turn back, and a small chance of survival, after already taking various concoctions of pills only to be saved by medics, and on one occasion, with an injection of naloxone by Love. And yet, it seems such a nasty way to go: the shock and cleanup for those he must have known would eventually find him denotes either an incredibly twisted fucked-up mind or someone making a disturbing and callous statement. It must be noted the police had been called on another occasion, confiscating both pills and a gun from Kurt: though Kurt vehemently denied he was trying to commit suicide.
It’s said via so many sources that Kurt was on the verge of splitting the band, pulling out of that year’s Lollapalooza, and yet Michael Stipe was adamant that Kurt was formulating a new Nirvana LP and direction, only to cancel the making of a demo – Stipe, from what I’ve read, seems to stick with the suicide narrative; almost finding it inevitable with the person he not only saw as a peer but friend.
On that tragic day in 1994, Kurt was found by an electrician who’d come to the house to install a security system. A note, addressed to his imaginary childhood friend Boddah, was found amongst the mess, part of it shared on Wiki and elsewhere stated that Kurt had not “felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music, along with really writing…. for too many years.” Plausible…a statement that the creative will, and the love had run dry. It didn’t help that Kurt was only 27 when he died, feeding into the whole infamous “27” death cult of stars conspiracy.
Choosing a sad chapter from grunge rock’s front pages with which to make a solo return – Brian’s day job family band of a sort, The Bordellos recently released the ‘Oh Nora’ single, reviewed on these pages earlier this month – ‘Who Killed Kurt Cobain’ is yet another lower than lo-fi home recording on rudimental apparatus. The production, part of its charm and rawness, threatens to distort or break down at any second, as Brian’s Daniel Johnston meets John Shuttleworth vocals, Half Man Half Biscuit wit and wordplay, and the C86 jangled guitar prove both lamentable and shitty. It starts off well if you like, almost in sympathy (“Was he killed by too much love?” as one line goes, could be read with a double meaning: a clue, the Love part, the generic word or name of a certain suspect put forward by the naysayers), before eventually and near dreamily declaring the whole affair wasn’t a suicide at all, dialling into the whole conspiratorial discourse. And yet as I’ve already said, there’s a touch of sweetness and a lull to the coarser and dissonant aspects of this recording.
A difficult figure to sympathise with I grant you, but poor old Love comes in for the harshest criticism, her name as one of the most favoured candidates in a bizarre hotbed of murderous plots; although herself a heroin addict and right handful, staving off attempts to take their child into care because of their actions and drug dependency, Love come out alive and flourishes even despite setbacks and her poor behaviour, whilst arguably the real talent (and so the narrative goes) and golden ticket Kurt ends up with a blown-off face, dead at just 27 years of age. Perhaps he really was just drained, lacking the will to go on, stuck in a cycle of melancholic tragedy.
Sceptics will never be satisfied their idol left them high and dry and will never be happy with the manner of Kurt’s death or the investigation that surrounded it. And with no end of armchair experts, analysts – the boon of the internet age – on hand to refute and counterclaim against the evidence, Kurt’s suicide will remain forever suspicious. (I happen to not care but can’t see why Kurt wouldn’t just pull the trigger on his life and hurt from everything I’ve read; from the music I’ve experienced and the hectic fuss and self-destructive nature of his life).
Brian promises or threatens (depending on your view) to release a full songbook at some point in the near future; this time through the Cruel Nature Records label as opposed to dropping from out of nowhere with no fanfare nor any publicity at all, on Metal Postcard Records. Expect a full review when the time comes.
The Clean Crime Scene ‘Raw Cuts’
(Blank Verse/Brothers Club) 30th October 2026
Finally arriving after years of cultivation, the debut album from John Simek’s scuzzed and fuzzed and purposely muddied produced The Clean Crime Scene project is here. From its earliest foundations during the summertime family vacations of childhood reminisces on the Jersey Shore in 2021, where John recruited fellow Richmond, Virginia musicians Jay Wilder (the lead guitarist of this outfit, who also offers up some bass chops and plays keys) of Contraption and The Venus Explosion note, Ralph Nicastro (playing drums and some bass) of Sam Tropez, wreaths and Sparks Fly From A Kiss, and Colin Carhart (sharing drumming duties) also of wreaths, to the follow up recordings involving his wife Diana Simek, who layed down vocals back home in their own studio, and further contributions on violin and keys from Will Pattie (of The Fossil Collection note), Raw Cuts took some time to formulate and mold into its final shape.
Even then, with ‘fatigue’ setting in, during 2024-2025 John enlisted the help of John Trainum, whose eclectic credits include Kayne West, Kate Bolinger and Destructo Disk. Credited however, with providing keys on this album’s second track, ‘Elevator To Nowhere’, it was Trainum’s more professional Spacebomb studio in Richmond that provided the space needed to boost this vision. But this was still not quite done, and earlier this year John ‘relinquished’ the job of mastering to the Grammy Award winning engineer Alan Douches; quite the coup, as Douches’ own CV of credits includes some staggeringly incredible names from the noughties renaissance of indie and dance music – the LCD Soundsystem to Animal Collective and Sufjan Stevens – alongside established bands of previous decades – like Misfits and Motorhead. As I mentioned already that production has a muddy film that envelopes the sound in almost mono-like lo-fi quality, one that fuzzes and buzzes and murkily adds something creepy, dungeon-like, drudge-like to the ambitious indie-grunge-garage-rock-punk-shoegaze chemistry of the band’s songs.
With all that in mind, the album’s reference points, contacts mention everyone from Ty Segall to the Brian Jonestown Massacre and Mazzy Star: all good calls…no arguments from me. But I’m not sure if it is intentional or not, but nothing is made of the band’s almost fuzzed-up country-rock sound, with songs like the already mentioned ‘Elevator To Nowhere’ reminding me of a more spiky Long Ryders – albeit sharing the stage with the leather clad biker chic The Raveonettes and a less languid and needle sharing Royal Trux (especially vocal wise, when both John and Diana are either in a sort of grunge-y duet or calling and responding to each other’s lines). The flick-knife back-alley opener, ‘Backstabbers & Moneygrabbers’ reminded me in part of Neil Young’s Crazy Horse revival of the 90s and modern day, mixed with a subtle bit of R.E.M., the Throwing Muses and the two Kim’s (that’s Kim Deal and Kim Gordon).
A full-on grunge-y mood fest of relationships, street level grime and more sinister creepy material, Raw Cuts goes on to evoke PJ Harvey and The Pixies (‘Black Ice Blackout’), Some Girls era Stones and candy indie-country rock (‘In The Ground’), an Iggy fronting The Dandy Warhols (‘Don’t Mind At All’) and at many other times, the Spacemen 3.
The group mange to reconcile the dirge-y and gnarl with the more softened female tones of Mazzy Star and their ilk to slumber and indolently find some balance between the chalk outlined forensic scars of our ungovernable times and hushed voiced requited love reciprocations. Dirty as much as it is dreamily gazing at the criminal enterprise that is modern life, Raw Cuts is a simultaneously mucky and melodic surprise.
August Cooke ‘On The Line’
(Poets Studio) 20th October 2026
It might have taken a while (three years to the date…well, almost) to follow up the “sublime” (as I called it at the time) debut EP, Like Rivers, from the obviously talented London-based cellist, singer and composer August Cooke, but the wait has been more than worthwhile.
Studied and yet brilliantly dreamy in its echoes of theatre, of matinee movie scores, of the post-classical, of the psychedelic and diaphanous, the On The Line EP further plunges into a magical soundscape and musical songbook of the yearned and vulnerable. But before we go any deeper, a little background info is warranted, and a brief note on the EP’s participants and foils:
The nom de plume of one George Cooke, the August moniker was debuted back in 2023. Before that, Cooke trained as a cellist and completed his undergraduate degree in music at St. Peter’s College, Oxford University in 2013. Further studies in 2015 led to Cooke completing a post-graduate degree in Musical Performance from the Royal College of Music. Alongside this formal training he formed and toured with his inaugural band, Marvellous Medicine. The press release goes on to inform us that he was mentored by such luminaries as the cellist Alexander Chaushian in London and sarangi maestro Sarwar Hussain in Kolkata.
Cooke is joined on his second release by the versatile musician, producer and composer Felix Higginbottom (who works across both the jazz fields and the TV/Film scores landscape), clarinet player Benjy Sandler and the bassist and composer Daniele Gulino. Mostly appearing on the odd track but providing additional scope and attentive rises and falls to Cooke’s overall mastery of filmic quality set pieces and maladies. Benjay offers a classical swell on the Animal Collective communes with Dhani Harrison ‘Nila’. In the dreamy mode, this small epic sets off with filtered echoes of gamelan of something more Indian in source, but languidly chuffs to piped-like rhythms. I may be off, but I thought the title reminded me of something more mythological, so I looked it up. Nila is Sanskrit in etymology, the name of a Vanara (usually represented as monkeys, apes or forest dwellers) chieftain in the army of the Hindu deity Rama, who appears in the Hindu epic poem Ramayana, leading in battle against the malevolent supernatural rakshaska and King Ravana of Lanka. Whatever this has to do, allegorical, metaphorical or story wise is anyone’s guess, but I’m sure that its Indian influence is there.
Gulino meanwhile, offers a heavy but lovely dubby-style bass to the Panda Bear soft bulletin drama ‘Mountain Down’. There’s elbowed intense cello that reminds me of Fran & Flora, maybe Alison Cotton too, and an overall sound that recalls C Duncan.
The rest of the EP is magnificent in its diaphanous and near foggy mystery, with the title-track quavering through a magic picturesque forest of psych-folk and Parachute era Pretty Things, and Fearless era Pink Floyd. But then you suddenly catch a strange resemblance of the Lynchian in the form of a voiceless Twin Peaks-like score. The finale, ‘Gasoline’ could be an Italo-Arabian dream match between Jack Nietzsche and David Arnold but reproduced by The Music Tapes. It has, well like most of the EP, a cinematic quality, but then again it all sounds intimate despite the scale that’s softly revealed.
Possibly one of my favourite listening experiences of 2026, A most pleasant if stirring, even near elegiac in places, immersion into the lucid feelings and poetically clothed metaphors of memories, recalls and reminisces that threaten to tear apart or break. If the current timescale is repeated, expect the next EP, or an album indeed, in October of 2029: I joke of course, we’d like something far earlier please. Still the burgeoning star of his own project, Cooke breaths life into familiar sounds and genres, yet seems to hold up well as he offers something uniquely individual and introspective.
Josh Johnson ‘Animative’
(International Anthem/Nonesuch) 23rd October 2026
A second release from a member of the International Anthem family this month (albeit in conjunction with fellow congruous label partners Nonesuch), the saxophonist, composer, producer, synthesist, sideman and collaborator Josh Johnson, in “animative” style, draws in a reputable and enviable cast of guests on his latest untethered experiment in both the synthesised and electroacoustic.
Whilst dropping in from time-to-time on the Monolith Cocktail for analysis and review – his 2023 collaborative trio with Gregory Uhlmann and Sam Wilkes made my choice albums of that year -, I’ve hardly touched upon Johnson’s resume: which includes being also part of Jeff Parker’s ETA IVtet, the Small Medium Large ensemble; on the production side he’s credited with producing the singer-songwriter, poet and outstanding bassist Meshell Ndegeocello’s Grammy Award-winning The Omnichord Real Book album, as well as Chilli Pepper Flea’s Honore project. As it happens, the eclectic traversing Ndegeocello makes an appearance on this new album; lending a fat quivery bass line that crosses between soul, funk and R&B to the Herbie Hancock vibed ‘High Step’ (from my own backyard and days of making music in the backwaters of the Isle of Wight, it also reminded me of Paul Butler’s early Pnu Riff experiments, Herbie being a major influence on that project). That near conventional, when laid alongside the rest of the album (though I don’t mean that in a bad or disrespectful way), funky jazz track also brings in the talents of both the multi-instrumentalist, audio engineer, mixer, highly prolific producer and International Anthem stalwart Ben Lumsdine and the drummer, programmer and producer Brandon Combs on the, near flat-like, filtered drums. Lumsdine gets another chance before that on the near fuzzy tubular Chicago skyscape musing of ‘Reece’. Beneath Johnson’s saxophone – which has a kind of spray effect and spiralling frequency to it -, Lumsdine splashes on the cymbals and plays another kind of flattened nice roll of a beat.
Whilst we are talking about those guests, yet another talented drummer and percussionist, Aaron Steele, is credited with additional production chops and samples on the reverberated piano focused, flat tubular paddled, and vaporising bass purred ‘Mill’; a near 80s-like TV score of lament and mystique that, later on, features a turn towards the Latin percussive and rhythm wise. The second appearance this month (see Jeremiah Chiu’s album review nearer the beginning of this column), Chicago jazz trumpeter, composer and bandleader Marquis Hill can be heard alighting fourth world like trumpet to the golden jangly cosmic ‘Upstairs 2021’ – staircase to the spiritual? The universal? The inspired? Extending the roll call, IA label artist Macie Stewart (the multi-instrumentalist has worked with everyone from Rob Mazurek to Bex birch and Damon Locks, and partners up with Lia Khol in a duo project) floats violin on the Ariel Kalma and Phillip Glass-like circulating and filtered sax blown ‘It Can Be Everywhere’.
Yet another one of the multi-tasking polymaths involved on the album is the Grammy Award-winning arranger, bassist, composer and producer Paul Bryan, who applies subtle bass to the old spiritual swanned bluesy and Egyptologist jazz stirred ‘Close’ – think Leon Thomas via the Pharoah and Kahil El’Zabar. Joining Bryan and Johnson is the drummer, engineer, producer and bassist of some repute, Marlon Patton, who sloshes and jangles around on shuffled bop-style drums.
Covering most of the album already with those guest spots, Johnson is credited as the solo performer on four tracks, his multi-instrumental palette extending from sax to synth, sampler, piano, Rhodes keys, percussion and bass clarinet. The opener, ‘Idiofone’ – I’m not sure if this is a reference to the triangular vibrated idiophone -, sets the Reich/Glass/Gasper tone of hollowed tubular rhythmics and gated lopped saxophone, a distillation of Chicago electro-jazz and house music – more of that later on -, and the aquatic. ‘Jazz Chord Possession’ sounds like a transmogrified Kraftwerk via Mantronix and the Information Society, and ‘Aughts Hymnal’, just like its title, is a Penguin Café hymn of futurism and the spiritual.
Animative is a great word for this album’s rhythms of life and musings, its cross-germination of art music, jazz, trance, minimal techno, house and electronica; the fuel for which namechecks the late great Eddie Harris and Mal Waldron amongst the sagacious conjured and “transportive” teachings of the genius Wayne Shorter, and the West African philosophical writings and non-Western ideas of time and being of Dagara diviner, teacher and author Malidoma Patrice Somé, and, most surprisingly, the “dreamlike fiction” of Italo Calvino. This indicates a real depth at play, and yet this music is so accessible and inviting indeed, animated. A successful culmination of influences and personal growth, wisdom and the measuring of time by an artist simultaneously as experimental as they are immersed in musicality and encapsulating an abstract feel.
Ocean Moon & Silver Ley ‘Prismatic Fields’
(Open Universe) 16th October 2026
A benevolent union and blossoming of organic meta and foliage from Jon Tye and Bethany Ley; both appearing under their respective guises of Ocean Moon and Silver Ley for a diaphanous and dreamy abstract articulation of both untethered and more functional traverses of nature and the ‘metaphysical’.
Under the descriptive encapsulation of Prismatic Fields, the two foils travel freely, floating ideas and congruously head towards sparkles of light on a most beautifully constructed album.
The seeds were planted for this collaboration between the Cornwall-based artist and multi-tasker Tye and the Bristol-based producer, composer, harpist and vocalist Ley when the former was invited to ‘envision a series of releases for the German production music library Sonotan.’ That same platform then launched the experimental outlet and subsidiary label, Ocean Universe: of which this is its ‘inaugural release’, I believe.
They’ve interestingly dedicated the album to the botanist, author, and former director of the Centre for Native Peoples and the Environment at the State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry Robin Wall Kimmerer; taking a leaf (excuse the pun) from her writings and teachings on her propounded Traditional Ecological Knowledge approach – which, according to Wiki, ‘she describes as a “way of knowing”.’ TEK is described as ‘an empirical approach based on long-term observation and relationship.’ Which also includes those cultural and spiritual considerations often marginalised by the Western scientific community.
In almost heavenly realms, crossing between the bamboo and lotus music of Asia, and drawing (especially) upon Ley’s talents of merging classical studies and learning with the electronic, floated Fourth World musical evocations prove gauzy manna for watery cascades, glistened harp, circulated, wafted, cooed, lulled and dabbed luminous vocals, and softened rhythms of life and fauna organic beats.
On a spectrum that takes in everything from the Future Sound of London and Amorphous Androgynous to Cuushe, Laaraji, Catrin Finch, Susumu Yokota, Sakamoto and Zoe Polanski, magical mulled moments and amorphous horizons converge to build an inviting oasis of the lunar and goldenly cascaded, a world of both rainbows and enervated mystery and exploration.
Qualm ‘Let’s Find Those Parrots In The Clouds’
(Zinnober Records) 23rd October 2026
Despite the unease and doubt that’s suggestive of this undefined troupe’s name, there’s next to no qualms about the direction of travel: free form jazz that probes at, and in a toppling fashion, freefalls towards poetic descriptive cerebral and more sky bound inquires.
Recruited from a number of criss-crossing and shared bands, including members of the Horse Lords, DRNTTCKS and ZEMENT, Qualm is an ever-developing project of players pulled from both America and Europe. Founded and steered (if that’s the word in a thoroughly democratic lineup of amorphous unfixed improvisors) by saxophonist, guitarist, synth operator and vocalist Philipp Hager, the group has seen various changes since its formation in 2020. This however is Qualm’s debut ‘full-length’ album; a showcase of their signature improvised form, given the time and the breadth to unfurl a menagerie of imbued metaphorical open-ended entitled “qualms”.
Across a quartet (quintet if you purchase the digi versions) of medium and longer form pieces/performances all recorded in a one day session, composer, saxophonist and sound artist Andrew Bernstein, drummer and percussionist Christian Büdel and electronic musician and bassist Sebastian Dyrschka draw upon their respective resources and influences to evoke everyone from the Pharoah to Peter Brotzmann, Sam Rivers, Nucleus, the Flow Trio, Polish free-jazz of a Biblical nature (see the near esoteric , wisped and vibrato-like breaths saxophone haunted ‘It Takes Not Much To Light The Fuse On The Powder Keg, Which We’ve Built Ourselves, Just To Avoid Dealing With Our Own Demons’) and Robert Dick’s Third Stone From The Sun LP.
As I described earlier, and on the opener, the group literally topple forward, splishing and splashing through a free-spirited vision of Iris Ackamoor style Afro-jazz as they sun worship The John Batsch Society and Prince Lasha whilst contemplating analogies to uncompromising zebras. That introduction track runs to twelve minutes in length and picks up various ideas as it moves constantly forward in a hurried flustering fashion: shooed percussive parts, changes to the drums from rattled sticks across rims to scrapes and brushes across deadened metals, a touch of Embryo krautrock and the Pharoah piping. But there’s a distinct recall of swing on the second performance, ‘A Sudden Qualm Of Sickness Overcame Us, While We Were On A Tub Riding Down To The River To find A Place To Dream’ (I’ve read shorter poems than that title), which also features, later on, more hysterical piques of Brotzmann and Mats Gustafasson.
‘Holy Smoke, It Flies High In The Sky’ reminded me in part of a Hugh Masekela vibe, but the swanned, bird-like flights of Wayne Shorter and an overgrown with wildlife and foliage boardwalk dance of 60s New York City jazz. Bonus track, ‘Sometimes You Have To Cut Things Here And There’ has a more willowy, greenery touch of the whistled and fluted, the fluttery and vibrating as the saxophone’s brass materials are coaxed and blown in a more Andy Haas fashion. Eventually, after both moments of theatre and dissonance, the synthesized vapours and rituals probe towards something like the new age, pagan and cosmic.
We may just have found those parrots of the title, floating up there in a dream-like suspended animation, as the Qualm quartet and friends let their skills do the metaphorical and allegorical talking. A great debut full of ideas and a well-balanced show of improvised musicianship from the free-form school of experiment and dynamics.
Séismes ‘SeùlSeùl’
(Carton) 30th October 2026
Without upsetting anyone’s preferred pronouns, I’m assuming that its ok to state this is an all-female sextet working within – but very loosely – the free jazz and fourth world fields of experimentation and both magical and mysterious abstractions. And it shouldn’t be the case in 2026, but this is extremely rare.
Felt via healing balms of the near new age and exotic, and by passages of intensity, the Séismes (translates as “earthquakes”) lineup of Mélanie Loisel (on double bass), Tatiana Paris (guitar), Léa Ciechelski (saxophone, flute), Aline Bissey (also on flute), Yurie Hu (keyboard, viola) and Marine Flèche (drums) also all contribute vocals and electronic effects to an improvised recorded debut album that combines both European and Korean influences and cultural sources.
Encouraging the geographic, scenery and projections of dramatic introspection and bathos, the “alone” aspects of the SeùlSeùl album title describe both standing amongst the exotic foliage and moving in unison with the rhythms of nature: at peace and yet also animated and fidgety. The troupe’s scope of influences and improvised exploration draws (to these ears anyway) upon Jon Hassell, Roberto Musci, Nicole Mitchell, Laraaji, Alice Coltrane and Walter Smetek, but delves even further and broadly to conjure up some surprises along the way. In practice this means nature’s rustles, the air and breeze act as a backdrop to the group’s atonal wind and brass instrument huffs, chuffs, hinges, dreamy drifts and articulations; to the scratchy, textural, scrapes and chinks of the tin and metal percussion; and the flexed but also sensitive combination of scuttled stick rolling and more rhythmic drums. And then you have the electronic aspects – that’s various oscillations, generator like Fortean crackles and plastique resonance – and the voices, which can be either in a singing fashion or delivered through the duet of flutes and the saxophone – sometimes sounding very vocally cooed and at others like some odd cuckoos.
There’s much to pick out from this imaginative and stirring assemblage performance; the familiar recall of Max Andrejewski’s Hutte & Guests take on Robert Wyatt on the Nordic-sounded and deliciously blurry fresh look at the world ‘Glasses’, and the near Krautrock momentum built up on the plastic pipped and Metheny guitar harmonics tweeting, percussive shaking and intense climatic ‘Du Jaune’ (“yellow”). There’s a John Zorn dimension to the title-track, and a mix of Franco-Hawaii, the magically rural, and the Balkans on the vocoder-effected vocalised ‘Pasteque’ – the parting vocals sound very folksy, almost Celtic. And you could almost suggest a touch of Staraya Derevnya on the poetically abstract ‘Cheveux au Vent’ (“hair blowing in the wind”).
All in all, an impressive debut of the ecological vibed, the organic fused with the electronic pulses and generators of modernity and dreamy lofty aspirations of untethered free sonic, atonal and rhythmical experimentation. Deerhoof meets Tortoise and Sam Rivers in a hinterland balanced somewhere on the astral panes between France and South Korea. In other words: this is for those who wish to immerse themselves in new soundscapes and visions.
_____/HALLOWEEN PLAYLIST FOR 2026____
Something different this month on the Digest, as I suspend the Social Playlist until November for this year’s Halloween Playlist: Manly P. Hall’s Secret Jukebox. Hoots and larks aplenty alongside psychic sonic defences and the disturbed.
This year’s gruesome track listing in full:
White Reaper ‘Friday The 13th’
Wovenhand ‘Dead Dead Beat’
Shriekback ‘Nemesis’
SHITNOISE ‘Whine In A Coffin’
Electric Sandwich ‘Devil’s Dream’
The Breedling ‘Torn Asunder’
Peter Evans ‘Witchcraft’
Sum of R ‘Waltz Of Death’
Dry Ice ‘Mary Is Alone, Pt. 1’
Dr. Doom ‘Body Bag’
Super Grupa Bez Falszywej Skromnosci ‘Satan’s Concept’
Bernard Szajner ‘Execute’
Wjerstean ‘Creature’
The Tryp ‘The Lizard Sheds It’s Skin’
The Flatliners ‘Gravelinerz’
Okay Temiz & Johnny Dyani ‘The Night – Gece’
From Nursery To Misery ‘The Fatal Bite’
Nolan Potter’s Nightmare Band ‘Bad Vibes’
Dyr Faser ‘Taste Of Blood’
Sonic Youth ‘Death to Our Friends’
Double Happys ‘Moss Monster’
Schizo Fun Addict ‘Tease Murderess’
Society of the Silver Cross w/ Blood And Sun ‘Unraveled’
Xqui w/ Lynn Gerrard ‘From The Crypt’
Cowboy Junkies ‘Me and the Devil’ Trifle ‘Devil Comin’’
And if you’re still not satisfied; totally wound up still, here’s a smattering of past sacrileges:
___/ARCHIVES____
Again, something different this month, and due to a suspension of the long running Monolith Cocktail Social Playlist series, a chance to still share choice tracks from those artists and bands celebrating particular LP anniversaries this October.
Sixty this month:
A live free form vision of Cecil Taylor’s ‘Steps’, originally released on record in 1966 as part of the jazz pianist luminary’s Unit Structures LP.
A supposedly live version of ‘Fire Engine’ by the acid freak 13th Floor Elevators. The original of course appears on their 1966 LP the Psychedelic World Of…, which is also sixty this month.
Let’s have some fun now, as we celebrate The Monkees self-titled debut LP, released this month back in ’66. A version of ‘Last Train To Clarksville’ by the Damnation of Adam Blessing.
And…a TV show mimed ‘Sweet Young Thing’….
Fifty:
Lester Bangs might not have had a kind word for it, but Patti Smith’s 1976 follow up to Horses, Radio Ethiopia undeniably has its moments. Right? Anyway, I’ve gone for the opener, ‘Ask The Angels’ which may or may not reinforce your prejudices.
Nearing the end (or over the finishing line) of CAN’s creatively pioneering epoch, 1976’s Flow Motion LP of cod-reggae lilted undulations is rarely held dear in even the heads hearts. Never mind that it was perhaps most people’s introduction to the band, through that album’s preening flux-disco hit single of ‘I Want More’. Personally Saw Delight, released just the next year, recovered their global traversing credentials and reputation – though many will argue with me on this, I think it’s one of their best late albums after Future Days.
In celebratory mode, and originally featured on the 1997 released triple remix album Sacrilege – various hip and Mute related and imbued artists taking turns to turn in and out, transmogrify and pay humble respect to CAN’s back catalogue – Air Liquid did a visitation transference remix of the Flow Motion title-track.
The modestly prolific Sparks nearly always have some anniversary or other, having straddled and released LPs during every decade from the 70s onwards – the Gilbert & Sullivan of pop are still at it over fifty years later, still recording and still out on the road. From 1976’s Big Beat LP, a live rendition of ‘Nothing To Do’, taken from the Lil Beethoven album tour, of which the Mael brothers also released a DVD – essential purchase!!!
Forty:
Something very Oar(ish) Skip Spence and the Jefferson Airplane about this. Yes, believe it or not, and despite its 60s sound, the Cowboy Junkies ‘Baby Please Don’t Go’ and the White Off Earth Now!! LP it appears on is forty years old!! This debut announces the Canadians-do-midwestern-esque drowsy drugged-up new country indie group to the world.
Thirty:
From the Wu-Tang Clan’s dojo of adjacent extended solo member headed albums, careering on to a scene that needed refreshing in ’96, Ghostface Killah’s Ironman shadow superhero persona. The obligatory team-up ‘Daytona 500’ features both Raekwon and Cappadonna keeping the Wu signature going.
Also this month, plucked from the Archives, my October 2016 review of Orkesta Mendoza’s Mexican deep dive ¡Vamos A Guarachar! album.
Orkesta Mendoza ‘¡Vamos A Guarachar!’
LP released by Glitterbeat Records on the 7th October 2016
A scion of the Calexico-Giant Sand-Xixa axis of Arizona/South and Central American cultural exchange, Okestra Mendoza keep the faith in these tumultuous times. Whilst President Trump certainly seems a possibility, thankfully the blowhards proposed border control wall is presently only a threat. Not that that will stop the Galexico band member and co-producer Sergio Mendoza from inhaling the intoxicant thrills, exotica and voodoo of Mexico and beyond. The multi-instrumentalist bandleader grew up in the “hinterlands” of Arizona after all, listening to the sounds emanating from the Mexican AM/FM radio stations. This heady mix of cumbia, mambo, mariachi, big band orchestras and the salacious swaggered ranchos was eventually channelled into a cornucopia of collaborative projects and bands. Merging these traditional forms with tremolo twanged rock’n’roll, psychedelia and electronic vibes Mendoza has created a timeless junction between neighbours on both the previous Orkesta LP (Mambo Mexicano) and the latest ¡Vamos A Guarachar!
Inhabiting a supernatural imagination of the cactus-strewn borderlands, where the otherworldly amorphously interchanges with ritual and reality, ¡Vamos A Guarachar! is both mysterious and fantastical yet equally kitsch. Imbued with the cumbia rhythm, which has enjoyed an electrified renaissance over recent years, Mendoza weaves both the dance styles sauntering hip swivel and more galloping raciness into the rich melting pot. ‘Cumbia Volcardora’ is a perfect example of this; wafting in the southern breezes with its cantina serenaded horns, ? And The Mysterians style ghost house organ, theatrical voodoo narration and Spanish vocals. A similar pattern of cross-pollination continues throughout the album: on the two-speed ‘Redoble’ the band fluctuate between a more up-tempo chase to Brazilian rocksteady and evoke both the feverish Mambo of the title but also a Balkan polka on ‘Mambo A La Rosano’.
Between ages with a penchant for a strange nostalgia, as seen through an esoteric lens, ‘Misterio’ is a curious tango crooned matinee that sounds like a lost theme tune from the 1950s. There is a Mexican film of the same name from 1980, which starred Juan Ferrara as a TV star who blurs reality with the plot of a soap opera he’s filming. It’s quite conceivable that this could be the band’s inspiration, the lamentable enchantment a good fit for the movie’s fantastical waltzing premise.
Though the esoteric and alien quivering magnetism atmosphere casts a spell over the album, there’s a host of quirky turns and a lot of fun to be had. For a starter there’s a kooky homage, or augur, to the spirit of the racoon on ‘Mapache’, and the zappy, rock guitar gnarling candy treat ‘Caramelos’. The times may be changing for the worse in Mendoza’s backyard, but the Orkesta put a raucous, colourful and upbeat shine on the political miasma, defending and celebrating the “honest cultural exchange” between both sides of the divide with relish and a certain oddness.
If you’ve enjoyed this selection, the writing, or been led down a rabbit hole into new musical terrains of aural pleasure, and if you able, then you can now show your appreciation by keeping the Monolith Cocktail afloat through the Ko-Fi donation site.
In review: a world of sonic discoveries. Dominic Valvona
Photo Credit: Jeremiah Chiu by Brian Guido
Beat Keller & Jorge Espinal ‘El Agua Es Lava’
(Defkaz Records) 16th October 2026
Two lone swordsmen of their guitar art in combative experimental mode, the collaboration between the Swiss musician Beat Keller and his Peruvian-born foil Jorge Espinal is an exercise in instrumental transmogrification and the avant-garde.
Aligning respective disciplines with alarming, jarring and haywire results, the composer, sound engineer and, importantly and most demonstrably in this case, guitarist Keller entangles and tabs away to the meta contributions of his Buenos Aires-based trick noise maker. In a serial mode of a kind, with barely anything that would constitute the musical or the rhythmic, El Agua Es Lava (which I believe translates as “the water is lava”) skewers reference points from the most technically fucked-up of jazz guitar sparring and hysterics to the art school performances of Fluxus and their ilk, hardcore music, the industrial and erratically uncategorised.
Hi-pierced squalls and babbles of recognisable electric guitar shredding and fret gymnastics career or scramble across beaten metallics, workshop tools percussion, data coded squeals and thrusted oscillations. From the factory to volcanic explosive backdrops and the spine-chilling, distressed musicianship of a strange and alien kind builds up a crazy exploration of collaborative energies. Interesting sounds emerge: the growl of a revved-up guitar, the distorted coarse wiring and the belted drum kit that sounds like its being shoved down an iron fire escape.
But if you want a summary, and one of my descriptive go-tos, then imagine Gunter Schickert, Bill Orcutt, Steve Vai and Don Fiorino going to work like samurai guitar wielding mavericks against Glenn Branca, Fennesz and Last Exit.
Brama ‘La Raive’
(Airfono) 25th September 2026
Part of a much championed (including on this site) dynamic celebration of the Occitan language and it’s haphazard and continuously hampered cultural ties, the four-piece psychedelic-rock band Brama follow in the footsteps of fellow revivalists Cocanha this year in releasing their very own album.
I reviewed the latter earlier this summer, detailing or at least dipping into the context and foundations of the Occitan scene. So, excuse me if this does seem familiar, but here goes a very brief outlining of that history.
Playing on France’s foundations, pulled together in dominating fashion from various connected but distinguished former independent kingdoms and regions, and the erosion or indeed forced erasure of languages and cultures like the Occitan, the Clermont Ferrand quartet of Brama whisk and conjure up a “path between dream and reality, memory and imagination, where dance becomes a space vivid with memory.” They title this convergence “La Raive” or “The Rave” – an indication of direction and mood.
Though some nationalistic movements seem more in favour than others, France’s flirtations with fascism during the time of the Vichy regime’s collaboration with their Nazi overlords during WWII infamously, and most dangerously, used various folk traditions as state and ideological propaganda. Wrestling those same traditions now, and within the context of attacks in more recent decades on Occitan speakers and its alliance or take-up by activist groups locking horns with the French government, the recent musical forces behind this revival wish to free it from the forces of conservatism, misogyny and the stain imposed upon it by the tyrannical.
Whilst a far more in-depth and researched take is needed on all the ramifications, the nuances and the political outcomes, the strife and acts of resistance that have been imbued within this group’s sound and lyrics can be traced back to the patchwork of Medieval realms in what is now Southern France. A romantic language porously spreading out from its geographical namesake (loosely, I believe, formed on the model of Aquitaine, which is now known as Languedoc) into pockets of the Pyrenees (and so Spain too) and further afield into Italy, Occitan is roughly still in use, spoken by at least (depending on where you get your stats) a couple of million people. It’s poetic and lyrical turns, its polyphonic harmonies now, in part, provide manna and liturgy for Brama’s new album. And though I’m not sure if this instrument can be solely attributed to Occitan culture, the band use that most evocative of wound-up strung and drone intense instruments, the hurdy gurdy – credited to band member Amandine Pauvert.
But as this is, at least in part, a rave-up, the music is at least vibrant and animated; a danceable spell of Occitan etymology and ethnology twinned with excursions of motorik (Neu! via Beak> and The Soundcarriers) Krautrock and the electrified microtonal frills, dotting, dabbing and tabbing of Franco-Arabia. In fact, and I really wasn’t expecting this, Brama would be a great live partner to Qubec’s Angine de Portrine.
They begin, however, with an almost entirely vocal arrangement opener: save for a subtle hurdy gurdy drone that becomes one with the tones of the chorus of voices. Spanning the ages on short waves of passionate harmonious resonance, the quartet offer up a sort of vocalised liturgy come shoe-in for the next track, ‘Belou de jorn’, a more animated burst of motored lively dance-rock; a mix of the already mentioned AdP but also, strangely, Stereolab.
There are songs that groove and songs with a message, all mesmeric and hypnotic. The signature sound of souk-rock disco, the more fuzzed-up, and the near cosmic and starry is experimented with further on every track; as its title suggest, ‘Luminar’ seems to be transmogrifying a borrowed 70s Bee Gees tune and mixing it with the Arcade Fire whilst gazing at passing satellites and shooting stars, and ‘Belou de Nuech’ projects an astral journey to Java via Faust. ‘Niurada’ is like a cross between Alice Dona and Ladytron, played out to the pastoral sound of the cabrette and scrunchy guitar pedal effects.
The hurdy-gurdy drones evoke everything from medieval Occitan and the group France to the Celtic and psychedelically rural, whilst that microtonal guitar and the vocals fit the North African French diaspora. Imagine that all wrapped up in an electrifying Krautrock cornucopia of dancing and raving, and of motoring, and you’ll nearly there. For this is a pop-y like accessible cosmic renaissance of the “d’Oc” culture delivered with fuzzed and scuzzed energy and plastique tubular rhythmic finesse.
Jeremiah Chiu ‘Edge Conditions’
(International Anthem) Physical Release: 9th October 2026/Digital 27th October 2026
Modulating away from and decoupling, and yet once more working alongside his foil of recent years Marta Sofia Honer and band mates from the Small Medium Large ensemble, synthesist imbued composer and multi-instrumentalist Jeremiah Chiu unveils a soloist titled architectural and environmental inspired textural and rhythmic project that’s one part electronica of a 80s and 90s vintage pedigree, another part body music, and yet another that evokes the electronic, the floppy disk cut-ups and environment luminaries of Japan.
Edge Conditions features a pool of talented West Coast and Chicago hot-housed musicians; many of which have either released records on or been a loose part of the International Anthem label family. Whilst drawing upon the amorphous threads of Chiu’s previous collaborations with Honer, but also with the grandee of new age experimentation and fourth world peregrinations, Ariel Kalma, the former Chicago breed and L.A. based artist calls in favours from the Japanese musician, composer and artist of note, Takako Minekawa; the Japanese-American multi-instrumentalist, saxophonist, composer and poet Patrick Shiroishi (previous projects that I’ve reviewed include a match-up with Dave Harrington and Max Jaffe, plus involvement with the underground super group, Water Damage); Chicago jazz trumpeter, composer and bandleader or repute and influence, Marquis Hill; producer, multi-instrumentalist, trumpeter and instigator of the band Whitney, the alter-ego Resavoir and the Les Sons Du Cosmos trio, Will Miller; and the all-rounder percussionist and drummer with untold sessions and collaborations under his belt, plus a quartet of solo albums, and appearance’s in the already referenced SML troupe, Booker Stardum.
Possibly Chiu’s most unique foray into the rhythmical, Edge Conditions combines the plastique with the organic; the synthesized with the electroacoustic; and the concrete with the materials of space. Beats and tempos run out through an apparatus of effects merge with ease with more live or studio played drums, an essence of viola and hazy airs, breaths of trumpet; all of these sounds, patterns and wave forms meeting with the titular edge of both the abstract and the very real buildings, the public and shared spaces, and the places that converge glass and metal with a constant shimmered, bobbled and springy interactive dances and movements of either celebration, joy, introspection and cosmic mystique.
Futuristic and yet retrospective in recalling everything from the Yellow Magic Orchestra and its members various solo projects (I’m reminded of Sakamoto’s Esperanto LP on this album’s earlier tracks), plus their Japanese peers of Yasuaki Shimizu, Hiroshi Yoshimura, Susumu Yokota. This is layered up with shades of Lukid, μ-Ziq, Richard James in both his Aphex Twin and Polygon Window guises, Casino Versus Japan, Robert Hood, various House music and minimalist techno pioneers, and on the album’s metallic acid-house dance number ‘Night Fog’ a meeting of minds between Carl Graig and Felix da Housecat on an imaginary DJax Upbeat 12”.
You have the serious juxtaposed smoothly with club rhythmic body movements; and an assortment of instruments and effects that are often relieved from their serious avant-garde origins or loftier aspirations to just, well…dance around like Richie Hawtin’s Plastik “Men” or polygons and shapes lifted from their staid stasis as materials holding up the edifice of the city. Tracks like ‘Interface’ sound like a calculus centre of Tortoise and Holy Fuck quivery and chemistry wobbled body-rocking popping, whilst ‘Non-narrative’ is like some kind of techno funk from the Warp label of the early 90s. A contrast to both would be the sci-fi operatic VHS score of the fallen, ‘Sentimental Object’ and the Japanese garden wistful lingers, the metal scaffold tapping and the John Zorn like electronic valve instrument (performed by Miller) effected discombobulations and warps of the Fourth World and Ariel Kalma starring vapour thruster title-track. ‘A.M. Fuses’ is another danceable wavey number; worth mentioning for its Aphex and Sakamoto floppy disc cut-up breaking and paddled metallic tubular currents. This is one of those albums you’ll need to revisit often, with its true potential, its magic and groove revealing itself over time; on the fourth play through I’m still picking up on and noticing more modulations, clever interplay and sounds. It won’t light the world on fire but is none the less impressive and immersive for it. A really cool album of possibilities that dances to a mood and rhythm that many of us will find familiar but inviting.
The Corrupting Sea ‘Longing’
(Somnimage Records) 7th October 2026
At the helm, navigating the release of ambient and electronic music from the peripherals for the last decade (anniversaries looming) through his Somewherecold Records label venture whilst also spearheading his very own alias vehicle, The Corrupting Sea, Jason Lamoreaux once more sets both his measured philosophical quandaries and abstracted landscapes and scenes of personal joy, meditation and the existential to a subtle, immersive ecological ambient score.
Before we delve in, I must show my gratitude to Jason and his highly prolific label for offering room and a platform for two of this blog’s biggest champions and American pen pals, John Lane (masquerading wonderfully for years as A Journey Of Giraffes) and Violet Nox. It’s in this role alone that Jason can be held in high regard; offering up a vital showcase for those underground artists staggeringly ignored by the mainstream and even some of the snottier media outlets. I’ve merely dipped in from time-to-time but reviewed quite a haul of those albums over the years; some I’d suggest were every bit as important and good as anything turned out by Warp, Mute and the usual crowd of more celebrated and trumpeted labels.
Twenty-four albums in, with number twenty-five on the horizon (marking another anniversary, and the release of a very special collected works edition of the sonic saga so far), Longing draws on Jason’s own plaintive reminisces, the pains of missing out on exploring the environments, both the awe inspiring and the more intimate spots in nature, that have now become prohibited to hm due to illness. Candid if you ask him, and in the notes to this particular album, Jason has suffered for a long time with physical and mental disabilities; ones that cause extreme exhaustion and fatigue, and for obvious reasons make these youthful treks and communions of the past seem out of reach or difficult to replicate: There’s a specific recall in the notes of summer vacations spent in Yosemite National Park, scored aurally and sonically through the Andrew Heath-like lower-case trickles of piano notes, the churned vapours, the turbine like atmosphere and the language of the aviary on the rhetorical ‘Where Does One Go When One Can Go Nowhere’.
Through the main usage of ambient moods and feelings, Jason ponders with the prompt of descriptive, inquiring titles, the places held dear; scenes and locations of great importance, ones that evoke episodes from his life of safety, curiosity and encouragement. Incipient beginnings of near nothingness gradually take on a soft melodic quality as they grow and build upon the tunnelling rays and tubular synthetic wave forms that seem to convey a real depth and expression of the ecological set pieces, or the memories reflected in each track title.
Surveying a wondrous, mysterious and almost alien-sounded typography, Jason merges cleaner synthesised sounds and hidden sourced machine constructed atmospherics with field recordings of water sprays, moist dripping caverns, and the reverberated song and communications of birds. Some tracks sound more natural than others, whilst some could be said to be almost sci-fi, a touch off-world. Veils descend across fabled lakes with crystallised notation; what could be described as blizzardy specks move cyclonically in a synth-made whiteness; bucketed waters are scooped up in a fashion under the dripped dampness of a cave; and Forest Robots vibes are recalled in the gentle joyfulness and electronica celebration of ‘Tree Swings and Climbing Trees’. All the while that central sensibility of longing is drawn upon to create an album that’s simultaneously as pining as it is aspiring: the mood music of someone forced to watch from a distance, yet feeling some of the vitality, the enormity and inspiration of those landscapes and specific sites, memories that hold a special place in his life.
Allison de Groot & Rich Ruth ‘S-T’
(Western Vinyl) 2nd October 2026
Who knows what a Rich Ruth (the persona alias of Michael Ruth) produced Allison de Groot project would have sounded like in the end; that original remit and plan instead evolving into a shared titular collaboration of equals, with both creative sparks writing together, sharing and developing ideas conjured up in a Nashville studio over the course of a year.
The solo endeavour of the clawhammer banjo maestro of repute de Groot, this traversing work has grown from its incubator southern rooted projection into something, perhaps, much larger in expansive scale and deeper in layered immersive soundscapes. If much of the inspiration derives from that instrument of choice, the introduction of Ruth’s own multi-instrumental rack, plus the contributions of the Canadian and Berklee hot-housed violinist Patrick M’ Gonigle, and the erred wavy mirage-like steel peddle phrases and lines of Ruth’s oft Shrunken Elvis bandmate Spencer Cullum, have all added to the stirring evocations and scored environments that materialise from a reimagined Americana and abstract ambience.
Associated with ‘old-time tunes’, traditional American music and bluegrass, the clawhammer banjo takes its name from the claw-like posture that’s used by the player to ‘hammer’ the strings. This technique is said to emit a gentler and more melodic sound overall, and in this case, effortlessly blend an essence of its country origins with something both transcendent and cosmic: carrying the listener off to planes and places that exceed the borders of the American South and the home of country music itself.
Hear and Be Yonder David Casper and the tubular cascades of Mike Oldfield are transported to the prairie and wheat fields of a more abstract Nashville environment, as a synthesis of neo-classical and chamber dreams are woven together with the hallucinatory, and the more recognisable invocations of flowing, running rivers (the opening Oldfield-esque and dawn awakened light emitting Daniel Lanios golden rayed score ‘Nervion’ is named, I believe, after the Spanish river that runs along the ports and shipyards of Bilbao, out into the Bay of Biscay). Tracks like ‘New Intervention’ reminded me of Glass and Cage relocated to the old West, whilst ‘10-14’ was more like Tortoise panning for gold on the reservation with The Green Kingdom and Laraaji. But the banjo arpeggiator ‘Sorgin’ has a certain Japanese sound of paddled spokes and dulcimer-like woody bobbles, whilst ‘Rocks From The Moon’ could be Suzanne Ciani catching solar flares with Cluster. Imagine, if you will again, that Eno had produced Andrew Tuttle’s Fleeting Adventure, or Marisa Anderson had got together with Bruce Langhorne, for that’s about as close as I can get to describing this transportive new album from the collaborative partnership of de Groot and Ruth. And it must be one of the first albums of its nature to lift the clawhammer banjo from its origins and purpose to different heights, moods and fourth world-esque visions.
Miska Lamberg ‘presage’
(Discreet Archive) 2nd October 2026
And it all amounts to this: the minimalistic but deeply conveyed melodic score that builds into a haunted and sad dreaminess of the Boards of Canada and there like. Yes, the latest sound art or installation-like enveloped immersive experience from Miska Lamberg takes its long-form time to reach a certain gravitas of sound waves melody and feels that make the whole journey worthwhile.
Aptly released via the Discreet Archive platform – a label synonymous for allowing artists with such grand explorations the scope and time to breathe – Lamberg’s forewarned omens on presage use the environment, the hidden and obscured background field recordings of movements, the uncertainty and anticipation of various shortwave radio transmissions, and atonal drones and hums to conjure up a mysterious, sometimes near supernatural and alien landscape.
Lamberg’s biographical blurb states that, ‘pieces have been featured by record labels Sawyer Spaces, Dragons’ Eye Recordings, Falt and PRESQUE TOUT, and in exhibitions and performances at Museum of Technology, Urban Apa X Ateneum, Lighting Mind, Kamara, Swedish International Film Festival, Galleria Kalleria, Penthouse Collective’s gallery space, modern dance festival Tanssivirtaa Tampereella, and KATOAVA Collective’s various events and projects.’ And so, from the conceptualism of the art world to the studio and site specific, Lemberg has covered quite an array of sound experiments and sonic projects to build whole worlds out of not much more than the atonal and recondite. But this time around, prompted or indeed inspiring the stanzas of Minja-Milia Ikonan – which you can find included in the bandcamp description -, Lemberg’s presage evokes an assemblage of Helsinki environmental sourced recorded weather fronts and more disturbing ominous going ons.
Stormy but weightless winds, as noted by Ikonan, billow in across what could be described as cliff tops like synthesised airs: a mist even. Like early Kluster causing a venerable imbued mystique or even cathedral era Tangerine Dream, the atmospherics are liminal: between the otherworldly, the esoteric and sci-fi. Giant strides and brushed walks through grass and upon concrete are interspersed amongst the percolation of something boiling on the stove and the buzz of unidentified insects and those shortwave blizzards of crispy radio waves and radioactivity. This is track one by the way, which suffuses each strand, each tonal layer slowing and gradually over nearly twenty minutes.
Track two starts with an interference in the fabric, hisses and the looming presence of something from beyond. Again, hidden generators and machinery are obscured underneath a sort of greyish film, right up until that descriptive build-up of saddened but moving melodic sound waves that I described in the introduction.
As an experience its certainly an immersive one; a 4-D surrounded environment of the alien and yet familiar, reimagined through an apparatus and process that invokes the descriptive.
Light Conductor ‘Sequence Three’
(Constellation) 25th September 2026
Vapour trails and the luminescent heat patterns of distant planets are conjured up alongside soft hues of abstracted circular colours and amorphous transcended spiritualism on the latest and final sequence from the Montreal partnership of Stephen Ramsey and Jace Lasek: with Lasek’s Besnard Lakes band mate Olga Goreas orbiting as a third moon to the duo’s planetary base camp emissions of synthesised and vintage analogue psychedelic ambient slow-release space rock.
After two previous volumes, Light Conductor (a sort of vessel for the Young Galaxy’s Ramsey and his Besnard Lakes’ foil, Lasek, to pursue visionary drone scapes on distant planets) envision a diaphanous and mysterious escape to off-worlds; the utopia of World Expos and astrophysicists channelled into a long form kosmische and shoegaze imbued immersive experience in which the duo “…apply rockiest sound design to minimalist tracks.”
Through prisms of Fairlight synth, hints of 80s sci-fi VHS scores, Vangelis, Tangerine Dream, Zoon Van Shook, Iasos, new age music of a certain vintage, burbled submerged bass lines and touches of Moebius, our astronautic musicians follow the cosmic rays, watch for visitations from mystical aviators, pray at the altar of sci-fi, and make concrete the abstract perimeters of celestial feels and horizons. All the while they teether themselves to earthly concerns and dystopian crisis with the apparition broadcasts of financial ruination and the crash on the album’s middle marker, ‘Ghost City Radio’; a near Cassandra ominous Evangelistic rebuttal of Wall Street, the Stock Markets and Capitalism as par the course for the millennial generation, put to a saddened vapour, some sharp lifts, bobbed bass, and synthesised pre-set rhythms: a union between John Michal Jarre and University Challenged.
There’s some beautiful, and again, spiritual like expansions to this five-track suite of space dust particle shimmers, curvatures and spectral rainbows. And when Goreas’ signature wispy and husked shoegaze-y vocals emerge on the lush space aviary ‘Omenize’, those lunar mirages transform into a healing balm. The truly long form finale, ‘Supercontinent’, as epic as its title, features another cosmic menagerie alongside its drones, evocations of Cluster, Eat Lights Become Lights, and its plastique shuttled rhythms and metallic language
An immersive experience and cosmic opus of kosmische inspired slow-psychedelic and shoegaze rock from this Canadian collaboration; the perfect ending to a triptych sequence of such materialised interplanetary and otherworldly peregrinations and slow-burn releases of transcended escapism.
Mousecunt ‘Orgasmic Mouse’
(Infibulate Records) 25th September 2026
The inaugural release from the newly orchestrated Infibulate Records label, seeks to make its mark with a most controversially reactionary piece of Goth-synth-barbarity and industrial-EDM bad taste-riven polemics. Torture porn for the lugholes; repulsive lyricism aimed at unsettling; the anonymous Iranian band must have had to dodge the authoritarian camarilla’s morality police (surely) to unveil such filth, bloodiness and sexual depravity.
Information wise, we know that this group features “a woman” performing on Nord synths and vocals; “a man” performing on a Gibson guitar, Hofner bass and sharing vocals; and one more “man” on Tama drums. An anonymous line-up is mixed and mastered by another anonymous engineer in the USA; their task, to produce a sonic assault upon the senses from fortnight session played at a private studio in Azerbaijan earlier this year. They’ve been working under the anonymity cloak of darkness, we’re told, since 2022: and for good reason.
Explosively digging and wrestling in the dirt with themes of extreme artistry practice, domestic violence, volatile (to say the least) relationships, religion, humiliation and abandonment (through the most harrowing of Freudian prisms), the trio let loose with the obscenest lyrics I’ve heard since “GG” Allin or Throbbing Gristle.
Told through an “unreliable narrator” in an autobiographical-like (though it also says “from different perspectives”) style of protestation, name calling and accusation, and with barbed slugged shots of the near physical, Orgasmic Mouse could be deemed a quasi-concept album of a sort. At least joined together in a very abstract form; threaded together by a similar if changing moody production of dungeon abusing vulgarity, maximalist scopes, knife sharpened synths, both death metal guttural and more ghoulish coquettish vocalisation, and horror cult EDM.
It can be an uneasy and even vilely offensive if not dodgy listen lyrically wise – the opening gratuitous perversive analogies and troubling descriptive rage of ‘Fucking The Mirror’ being the worst -, but seems to indulge in the swamps of such criminality and extremism to reach the pit of hellish confession, and to rattle the foundations: In grappling with their subject matters they’ve dredged up the most caustic, spiteful and disturbing dialogues and poetry.
Because of their provenance, it’s impossible not to connect the dots: An Iranian goth-metal-synth-EDM-metal-art band dangerously sailing close to enraging the Islamic Republic’s sensibilities and rule of law. I can’t imagine, considering the recent bombardments from the USA, and the possibility of regime change, and the years since the Arab Spring of continuous opposition against this same regime by a sizeable (often young) part of its population have made it any easier to exist making this kind of music – so many artists, and protestors of recent years have ended up raped, tortured, disappeared or executed (and it must be said, with fuck all help, support or protest by the same brigades marching against Israel and the West week in, week out). Of course, it’s easy to see how reality being referenced and played out on the ghoulish, horror of this album – perhaps mirroring it far too well; the violence is everywhere: from the physical to insulting and sexual.
For a reference, imagine Ministry or Revolting Cocks going toe-to-toe with Xmal Deutschland, Alien Sex Fiend, Mercy Girl, Rosaceae and Nine Inch Niles.
How this will go down is anyone’s guess, but from a label built on provocation and the extremities of contemporary music, it’s a successful launch of offending, violent and more sensory punkified gothic dance music and tortured art performance.
Antonio Raia ‘Σ [sigma]’
(Kohlaas Records) 1st October 2026
Not the focal draw, but as part of his collaborations with fellow Neapolitan artist Renato Fiorito, the body, soul and environment amalgamated – like a united flow – saxophonist, composer and improvisor Antonio Raia has both appeared and been mentioned on the Monolith Cocktail twice: firstly with a premiere, shared with our Italian pen pals at Kalporz, of the eighteen minutes long ‘‘Too Many Reasons’, and then a couple of years later, as part of the greater contextual piece on Fiorito’s Lustra album
The former saw the amorphous saxophonist Raia and his sound artist foil join together to capture the abstract atmospheres of cerebral reconnection; a sonic field in which to escape the stresses and weight of the Covid pandemic. Produced in lockdown, in the partnership’s native Napoli, this imagined space, in which a faded, fuzzy pining and wandering saxophone wafts around a rotated motorised humming and propeller purred windy and airy isolated soundtrack, brought together two experimental composers looking to create an ‘intimate and visceral experience’.
The latter of those two pieces was described at the time as ‘a votive offering of gratitude and devotion’ to that same city; attributed to Fiorito this time around, the track and album was promoted as his ‘personal vision of Naples’. Raia on his part, popped up on the crackling fireside, faint melodic and reflective softly rasped saxophone memory of ‘3694’.
As resumes go, Raia’s includes the critically applauded 2018 debut solo album, Asylum, and the 2023 published soliloquy book, La memoria bucata –a project developed through the sonic manipulation of archival materials by the theatre director Antonio Neiwiller, who passed away prematurely in 1994. In 2024, at the invitation of filmmaker Béla Tarr, a key figure in radical contemporary European cinema, he conceived and realised Facing Béla Tarr, a sound action for saxophone and waterphone based on the film Prologue. Two years later, and bringing us right up to date, in early 2026 he composed and released the soundtrack for [campanamuta], a six-act radio work by Martin Errichiello produced by the Italian National broadcaster Rai Radio3. During that time, he’s also managed collaborations with Alvin Curran, Elio Martusciello, Mike Cooper, Chris Corsano, and David Ryan and others.
Merging once more with his environment – this time the former Wasserturm Berlin water tower, located in Prenzlauer Berg -, Raia uses the architectural acoustics within this long-since decommissioned space to form a bond with the atmospherics and his instruments of choice – in this case both the baritone and alto saxophones and the Japanese Koshi wind chimes. Almost uninterrupted, recorded without overdubs by the Grammy and Emmy Awards-winning producer Francesco Donadello, Raia lets his feelings being roused and stirred, prompted by this peculiar utility turn studio – the oldest such water tower of its kind in the city, built in 1877 and still in operation up until 1952.
But just to draw from further afield too, the album’s title is borrowed from the Greek alphabet, and the album’s only sax-free performance, ‘Veils of Echo’, has a decidedly Morricone-y feel to it – the chimes brushed and swept in glissando style like crystal glass are accompanied by an Alessandro Alessandroni-like reverberated whistle.
Invoking the blues, the noirish, an essence of the 1960s New York jazz scene, and the venrable, Raia’s soundings and dialogues with the reverberations and echoes traverse the lower register honks of a ship’s funnels to the near amplified blows of a near dry spittle and the cyclonic spirals of bird-like higher tones that fly towards the studio’s ceiling. I’m reminded of Jonah Parzen-Johnson’s own solo soliloquies, the explorations of Timo Lassy, and John Buckingham’s parts on Bill Dixon’s Son of Sisyphus album. Also, the Instagram video uploaded and shared soloist musings and outpourings performed by Andy Haas in the gardens of the Modern Art Museum in NYC during covid – just an individual playing and conversing, sending vibrations out into the environment.
You get to hear (I’m assuming) Raia’s voice on the album’s finale, ‘Body and Cipher’. Taking a near liturgy turn of religious holy mantras and cantos, venerated choral voices meet with the deeper and bigger sound of low honked, near tuba-like, sax.
Suffused amongst those instruments, which can be quite melodic and even tuneful at times, even sympathetic, yearned and responsive, are sounds that can only be described as paddled, or full of texture.
The sounds of extrospection, of mystery, of the mournful and the dreamy can be heard across this album’s various ruminative wanderings and reverberations; a combination of the physical and improvised, all prompted by that site-specific recording space.
If you’ve enjoyed this selection, the writing, or been led down a rabbit hole into new musical terrains of aural pleasure, and if you able, then you can now show your appreciation by keeping the Monolith Cocktail afloat through the Ko-Fi donation site.
The End of the Month Playlist For September 2026
September 29, 2026
Our Monthly Playlist selection of choice music from the last month. Curated by Dominic Valvona & Matt Oliver.
Choice music and sonics from the last month (or so) picked from our reviews, but also featuring the tunes we missed out on or didn’t get the room to feature at the time.
Curated by Dominic Valvona with choice hip-hop cuts selected by Matt Oliver and some tunes lifted from reviews by Brian ‘Bordello’ Shea. Includes entries from the Ukraine to Turkey to Somalia, the Americas and Europe. This month’s courtesy of featured artist Juga-Naut.
Please note: The Monolith Cocktail has given up its accounts on both Instagram and bluesky. You can find the blog on WordPress, in every search engine going, or on Facebook and X. Or if you don’t want to miss anything, you can sign up to email notifications.
If you’ve enjoyed this selection, the writing, or been led down a rabbit hole into new musical terrains of aural pleasure, and if you able, then you can now show your appreciation by keeping the Monolith Cocktail afloat through the Ko-Fi donation site.
The Track List For September 2026:
Dragonflies ‘Slower’
megiapa ’11.11’
Your Old Droog & Evidence ‘Brighton Beach’
Pastense ‘Colors in the Puddles’
Al-Khemetic, Sa-Roc & Dezarie ‘Power Bars’
Regina Collage ‘First New Place’
Crystal Eyes ‘Pretending To Be People’
American Motors ‘no horses’
Devon Church ‘Vast As Space’
Boycalledcrow ‘mantis man’
Baba Zula ‘Kutsal Zeytin Halayi’
Juga-Naut ‘Never Nothing’
Che Noir & The Uce ‘Urban Essence’
Jam Baxter ‘Whole Sky’
Dur-Dur Band ‘Adigaa I Dhalanrogey (You’ve Changed Me)’
The Male Pattern ‘Charlie (The Robbery)’
The Bordellos ‘Oh Nora’
Greg Freeman ‘Cahokia’
Party Dozen ‘Euro Stomper’
White Ring ‘CATATONIC’
Blu & Sndtrak ‘LA’
Michael Christmas, Chris Crack & Girl Talk ‘Garfield Hated Mondays But Didn’t Have A Job’
Blockhead, Proleter & Arms and Sleepers ‘Garbage Time’
Datkid, Illinformed & Dumb Logic ‘Narcotic Athletics’
Dollar Brand, Don Cherry & Carlos Ward ‘Bra Joe From Kilimanjaro’
Hieroglyphics, Casual, Opio, Phesto, Pep Love & Del The Funky Homosapien ‘Hard Numbers’
Curly Castro, shemar, Blackchai, Sunmundi ‘New Mutants’
Super Scintillant ‘Phase IV’
Xqui & Pyramids of Phobos ‘Progressive Modernism – Strings Version’
Mike Gale ‘Our Place’
Jon Tye, Amine Mesnaoui & Cubenx ‘Morning Glow’
For The Curious and Those Wishing To Catch Up On The Last Month’s Posts, Here’s The Links:
Perusal #83 – Super Scintillant, Érick d’Orion’s ‘Mes fantômes’, The Bordellos, Devon Church, Dragonflies, Leenalchi, megiapa, Stylianos Ou
Our Daily Bread 661 – Fran Ashcroft, bigflower, Cut Chord, The Free Four, Herb DiamantE, The Male Pattern, Minot, Neon Kittens, Spygenuis
The End of the Month Playlist For August 2026
August 31, 2026
Our Monthly Playlist selection of choice music from the last month. Curated by Dominic Valvona & Matt Oliver.
Choice music and sonics from the last month (or so) picked from our reviews, but also featuring the tunes we missed out on or didn’t get the room to feature at the time. Curated by Dominic Valvona with choice hip-hop cuts selected by Matt Oliver and some tunes lifted from reviews by Brian ‘Bordello’ Shea. Includes everything from galloping jazz and underground rap cuts to a lamentable anniversary tie-in with the disastrous withdrawal of US troops from Afghanistan and all that’s rough and new in the gnarled guitar department.
Please note: The Monolith Cocktail has more or less given up its accounts on both Instagram and bluesky. You can find the blog on WordPress, in every search engine going, on Facebook, and still, on X. Or you can of course sign up to email notifications.
If you’ve enjoyed this selection, the writing, or been led down a rabbit hole into new musical terrains of aural pleasure, and if you able, then you can now show your appreciation by keeping the Monolith Cocktail afloat through the Ko-Fi donation site.
August’s track list:
Gentles ‘My Fugue, My Greek, My Brahms’
Neon Crabs ‘Invisible’
Origami Horses ‘Vultures’
SPAER ‘The Express’
Nonturn ‘Indicate’
Kaja Draksler, Petter Eldh & Christian Lillinger ‘Granular Navigation’
Homeboy Sandman & Jack Splash ‘Gas’
Serengeti ‘Dennehy’
Lee Scott, Black Josh, B-Movie Millionaires & Sly Moon ‘HEX’
Apollo Brown ‘Stovepipe Stuffing’
Hadja & Nils Kacirek ‘Hasrat (Shnsucht)’
bu.re_ ‘ii – Heat shimmer’
Motohiro Nakashima Ft. Marucoporoporo ‘Sea of Thought’
King Kashmere, Confucius MC & Jazz T ‘Classic Style’
Doc Da Mindbenda & IAMGAWD ‘Double Nickle In The Garden’
Open Mike Eagle & Kenny Segal ‘Trying to Remember What I Aimed At’
Von Pea ‘The Goof’
Declaime & SaltChunkJerry ‘Breakend Legs Man’
Occult Character ‘Unrequited Vibrations’
Enofa ‘Retire on That’
The Breedling ‘Stalker’
Raymond Roussel ‘the other side of the other side’
Bity Booker ‘The Ballad of Lost Town’
Becca Bartlett ‘Cicadas’
John Howard ‘Abbey Road, April 1974’
Leah Neale ‘Slip Away’
Pozi ‘Hale-Bopp’
Stuart Turner & Rob Grigg ‘For God’s Sake Burn It Down’
Beans ‘Remember’
Resavoir & Gregory Uhlmann ‘4th Cloud’
Enofa ‘Life Flower Town’
The End of the Month Playlist For July 2026
July 30, 2026
Our Monthly Playlist selection of choice music from the last month. Curated by Dominic Valvona & Matt Oliver.
Choice music and sonics from the last month (or so) picked from our reviews, but also featuring the tunes we missed out on or didn’t get the room to feature at the time. Curated by Dominic Valvona with choice hip-hop cuts selected by Matt Oliver.
The Track List:
THAO & The Get Down Stay Down w/ Tune-Yards ‘Sick of the Times’
A Certain Ratio ‘Knife Slits Water (EM) 12” Version’
foamboy ‘FAR AWAY’
Homeboy Sandman & Jack Splash & CeeLo Green ‘World On Fire’
ECID ‘Break Up Insurance’
Space Afrika & Tony Njoku ‘MLN’
Skyzoo ‘Short Money’
Peter Evans ‘Genesis/Schismogenesis – Stage 4’
A-F-R-O & MotionPlus ‘Labor of Fruit’
Brian Ennals & Blockhead & Defcee & Mikie Mayo ‘Yellow School Buses’
King Kashmere & Genesis Elijah & Killa P & Dabbla ‘Big[Bad]’
Chuck Strangers ‘L2LL2C’
Post Elvis ‘Luna (Evil’s Ballad)’
Simon Klein ‘Don’t Leave Me Alone’
Robyn Hitchcock ‘My Dead Astronaut’
Babe Rainbow ‘Acid and Honey’
John Howard ‘Abbey Road, April 1974’
Skyjack ‘Shozi’
Richard Spaven & Wildchild ‘Finders’
The God Fahim ‘GFY’
Distant Fires Burning & Autistici ‘Scalar (Reverend Basstorius Remix)’
hackedepicciotto ‘Zeitwende’
Aisha Vaughan ‘Frozen’
August Cooke ‘On The Line’
Biita Houdei ‘The Ground Here’
Tristan Da Cunha ‘Preludio’
Feverdreamt ‘Shadow Catching Up’
Sir Richard Bishop ‘They Shall Take Up Serpents’
Park Jiha ‘Summer Illusion’
Los Orientales de Paramonga ‘Viajando Con Un Loco’
EYE WITH AN EYE (Bloom de Wilde & Nick Trepka) ‘flow.’
Tōth ‘Easy – Live With the Brooklyn Choir Project’
The End of the Month Playlist Revue for May 2026
May 29, 2026
Our Monthly Playlist selection of choice music from the last month. Picked by Dominic Valvona, Matt Oliver & Brian ‘Bordello’ Shea.
The Track list is as follows:
Sub Hop Collective ‘Hundred and One’
Konono No1 ‘Volta’
Sunk Giants ‘Radio Problems’
Party Dozen ‘Special Unit’
Occult Character ‘Anti-Human Hate Machine’
Spirit Level ‘Forest Lagoon’
Khalab & Baba Sissoko ‘Denifurla’
Dumama ‘No Abiding City’
Cocanha ‘Forabanda’
Stik Figa & Heather Grey ‘All Is Fair’
The Allergies ‘Dig It Up’
7X3=21 & Pruven Ft. Masai Bey & Fred Ones ‘Woven Fabric’
Black Milk ‘Crash Test Dummy’
Meiko Kaji ‘Tokyo Nagare Mono’
Farma G & Relense ‘The Circus’
Juga-Naut ‘Scratch The Surface’
Whait/More Eaze/Wendy Eisenberg ‘Suffer Less’
Yazz Ahmed ‘A Moment To Be Free’
J Scienide ‘Stay Tuned’
Von Pea ‘The Goof’
Termanology/Royal Flush/Dru Hoffa ‘Angel Whispers’
Vic Spencer/BlaQ Chidori/J Wade/Aakeem Eshu/Lil Kydd ‘The Becomers’
A-F-R-O ‘The Hangman’
The Bordellos ‘Hop To It Bunny Girl’
Thomas Dollbaum ‘Pulverize’
Kyivite ‘test cylinder’
Neuro…No Neuro ‘Doubting’
Arab Strap ‘You You You’
Opus Kink ‘The Sweet Goodbye’
Double Francoise ‘Allumer’
The Legendary Ten Seconds ‘A Universe That Has No End’
Upupayama ‘Mystic Chords of Memory’
Lunar Bird ‘Sinderesi’
SUO ‘Lightening Strikes’
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If you’ve enjoyed this selection, the writing, or been led down a rabbit hole into new musical terrains of aural pleasure, and if you able, then you can now show your appreciation by keeping the Monolith Cocktail afloat through the Ko-Fi donation site.
The End of the Month Playlist Revue for April 2026
April 30, 2026
Our Monthly Playlist selection of choice music from the last month. Picked by Dominic Valvona, Matt Oliver & Brian ‘Bordello’ Shea.
The Track list is as follows:
Lone & Juga-Naut ‘Throw The Ember’
Horse Lords ‘Brain of the Firm’
Thrust The Mask & Mai Mai Mai ‘VULTURES’
Da Flyy Hooligan & Guilty Simpson ‘GUILTY VERDIX’
Rapswell, SQ & Dood Computer ‘Steampunk!’
Blu & Exile Ft Rome Streetz & ICECOLDBISHOP ‘Crumbs’
Tangients ‘Void’
Opus Kink ‘Come Over, Do Me Wrong’
Yazz Ahmed ‘Dawn Patrol’
Nduduzo Makhathini ‘Imvunge KaNtu’
Rave At Your Fictional Borders ‘Spoonbill’
Sulaf ‘Naada’
Hannah Peel & Beibei Wang ‘Awaken The Insects’
Morita Vargas ‘La Llave’
B Dolan Ft. Widowmaker ‘Wilhelm Scream’
Deeq ‘True Intentions’
The Gatekeepers Ft. Henry Kaiser ‘The End of Man’
The Conspiracy ‘Dungeness’
Ex Norwegian ‘I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight’
Frog ‘All The Things You Got’
Stephane C Cotti ‘Sunkissed Nina’
King Kashmere & BVA ‘I Smoke’
Andreas Tschopp ‘The Poetry of the In-Between’
The Three Seas ‘Prithibi’
Shye Ben Tzur, Johnny Greenwood & The Rajasthan Express ‘Shemesh’
Lisa Kohl, Macie Stewart & Whitney Johnson ‘cough | laugh’
HOWL, Fran & Flora & Erin Robinsong ‘Weed Canticle’
Xqui ‘Dead City’
Carol Maia & Jeremy Gustin ‘Aloe’
Your Brother’s Keeper & Gary Bartz ‘Cauldron’
A world of sonic/musical discoveries reviewed by Dominic Valvona. All entries in alphabetical order.
Image Credit: Jonathan Herman
Andy Haas ‘In Praise Of Insomnia’
(Resonantmusic) Released 1st February 2026
I’ve been saddled with insomnia for years, but unlike the highly talented and explorative, and curious saxophonist Andy Haas, I’ve found it difficult to put those waking hours to good use creatively; let alone on the auspicious seasonal occasion of the Winter Solstice, the date on which all these recordings were played and then saved for posterity. I must say, since the double whammy of a kidney autoimmune disease and a minor stroke, my own personal problems of insomnia have pretty much disappeared – I don’t recommend it however! But put to good use here, Andy ushers in the light changes, the almost religious and spiritual emotions and feels of the environment. His sax mirrors the fluctuations and expressions of playing without the hindrance, burden or weight of expectation; just one guy expressing himself and current moods, his experiences of life in the moment on a special day.
Whilst not wishing to repeat myself, I struck up an online and postal friendship with Andy after first writing about the highly experimental saxophonist, trick noise maker and effects manipulator’s turn touring as a band member with Meg Remy’s Plastic Ono Band-esque U.S. Girls a few years before Covid. The former Muffin, NYC side man to the city’s attracted maverick luminaries of the avant-garde and freeform jazz, and prolific collaborator with Toronto’s most explorative and interesting artists, has sent me regular bulletins (and physical copies) of his various projects ever since. Some have been in the solo mode, others with friends, foils and collectives. In Praise Of Insomnia is free of artifice and augmentation; the sound of a singular saxophone and circular breaths (the only other apparatus or consideration is Andy’s stereo manipulations of each track once its finished) alive with a language that admirers and followers of such luminaries as Sam Rivers, Jonah Parzen-Johnson, Evan Parker and Roscoe Mitchell will recognise. It has history and roots, but exists in the now with its squalls, shrills, the fluted, drones, curves, peaks and reedy vibratos that often sound like a mizmar – in fact I sometimes pictured minarets when closing my eyes and just letting the playing transport me from my boring surroundings at home in a dreary, wet Glasgow.
Free and wild, and yet also thought through, almost considered and concentrated, each track (prompted by descriptive and personalised titles) shows purpose; the subject matters often plaint, questioning or disheartened at the metaphorical darkness of the age, but also noting the artist’s own mood changes, and his battles with insomnia itself. It would also make a great soundtrack.
Benjamin Herman ‘The Tokyo Sessions’
(P-Vine Records in Japan/Roach Records & Dox Records the rest of the world) 27th March 2026
Though this is possibly the first time I’ve ever featured the London born but Netherlands raised alto-saxophonist Benjamin Herman on the site, his influence across the European arena of jazz looms large. With over fifty albums and untold thousands of the live gigs (either as a solo artist or as the frontman of the New Cool Collective troupe) to his name during the last thirty or so years, Herman has pretty much convincingly expanded his talents to play foil, collaborator and instigator to projects that span the musical and creative genres – from hip-hop to poetry, to rubbing alongside pop stars and embracing everything from Afrobeat to Latin and film, to the more anarchic and wild.
Venturing out to the far East with double-bassist Thomas Pol and drummer and producer of this album Jimmi Jo Hueting, Herman and his musical partners absorbed everything that was on offer from the eclectic Tokyo hothouse districts of Shimokitazawa and Koenji. Expanding the ranks to include a rich ensemble of guest from the Japanese jazz scene and beyond, they recorded these inspired sessions at the well-known “recording sage” Akihito Yoshikawa’s equally famous Studio Dede hotspot.
Paying homage, spiritual recognition and cultivating the mystique and mystery of Japan’s landscape, its culture, its traditions and abundance of talented jazz players, there’s haywire-like chops of floppy disk experimental Sakamoto, the shrouded misty sounds of Shinto and fluted and blown bamboo music amongst an abundance of reference points from elsewhere. With accomplished musicians like Ko Ishikawa on the Sho (a mouth organ), Tomoaki Baba on sax and Shinpei Ruike on trumpet (bringing a blue shade reminisce of Miles Davis sadness to the studio referenced ‘Dede’) there’s tributes to the Japanese scene and one of its capital’s most famous jazz nightspots, the NRFS abbreviated “no room for squares” – as borrowed from Hank Mobley’s iconic Blue Note released LP of 1964, and more than an inspiration here I believe.
But amongst those cultural appeals, a distillation of the Japanese scene and environment, there’s literal blurts of no wave and post-punk jazz, the noirish and cinematic, show tunes, swing, funk, the wired, colourful, willowy and many examples of mirages and swamp-like veiled mysterious.
At any one time then, you can expect to hear a free flow and agitation of downtown NY, the city skyline jazz scenery of the 50s and 60s, Last Exit, Snapped Ankles, John Zorn, Biting Tongues, Mats Gustafason, Donny McCaslin’s work with Bowie, Jimi Tenor, Comet Is Coming, the Nordic school of jazz, Tong Allen, Lalo Schifrin and John Barry! (in the closing moments of the spy soundtrack does Blue Note ‘Tokyo Moon’ you can hear what sounds like a riff on the 007 theme). Yes, I think we can agree a lot to take in. But with a generous offering of 13 great tracks and no fillers, this Tokyo session is going to appeal to many.
Ombrée ‘Calvaire’
(I Shall Sing Until My Land Is Free) Released 2nd February 2026
Seemingly apt if in an entirely different geographical setting, far from the torn-up battlefields, this album is tied via its facilitator to the Ukraine supporting I Shall Sing Until My Land Is Free label, and its founders own sonic manifestations of doom-laden scared environments: In the case of both Dmyto Fedorenko and Kateryna Zavoloka it’s their native and brutalised country, now in its fifth year of defensive action against the barbaric invasion forces of Putin’s Russia. Meanwhile, coming to terms with their own loss, Ombrée uses a similar soundboard and apparatus of industrial noise, metal machine music, sonorous bass guitar frequencies and slabbed vibrations and crackled pylon charges to process the death of his father, who passed away in February of 2025.
Prompted or set in motion by the sounds of the surroundings and the village’s church bells, Calvaire invokes memory through both field recordings and expressions of death’s many manifestations. Ombrée’s father, we’re told, would have probably hated this musical invocation, illusion and dark meta-built encapsulation of that mourning process, but for its creator and us the album is both a guttural and sophisticated response to its subject.
To the distant echoes of tolled bells and a Gothic atmosphere of an older rural France – the toil of the land, the echoes perhaps of old wars and tragedies still very much of the everyday scenery and psyche – Ombrée scratches the needles of detectors and equipment over the terrain to produce a death noise industrial slab of static, the paranormal, the razored and ghostly. Apparitions in the shadows at every turn; the venerable sounds and atmospheres of the funeral and wake; the coarse fibres of broken electricity and magnetic forces; the Fortean radio set tuned into the afterlife; and the dark materials of trauma uncovered by the plough and spade all come together in one suitably unsettling memorial.
Rocé ‘Palmier’
(Hors Cadres) Released 20th March 2026
With a softer and more melodious flair for an ever-widening use of music references and inspirations, the French-international hip-hop veteran Youcef Kaminsky (better known as Rocé) seamlessly blends new compositions of Latin, French, Italian, North African and South American flavours with modern spells of R&B, rap and electronica on his incredible new album Palmier (“Palm Tree”).
On a disarming pathway, Youcef taps into his roots and his mixed heritage (born in Algeria with his formative years spent in Paris) to rap, sing, report and recall with both emergency and poetic conscious fluidity. And whilst learning of his parents own extraordinary stories and backgrounds – his dad’s history within various anti-colonist resistance movements around the world (Adolfo Kaminsky, as that family name may suggests, are Russo-Algerian French in origin), and his checkered career as a photographer and master forger – and the depth to Youcef’s own studies and extensive recording output, this album has less of a revolutionary zeal and more a sense of real warmth and beauty to it. Listeners will find a sound that’s just as open to the embrace of Morricone as café society jazz, Issac Hayes, cool classical French maladies and American vocoderised soul. In other words: pure class. And yet there’s still an edge to it, a realism and sense of suspense, of the shadows, of current concerns in the search for balance, harmony and identity.
There’s seldom been much like it; the attempt to merge so many cultural markers and ideas and experiences; to recall those innocent and important feelings and places that matter – not in hip-hop anyway. The musicianship and contrast between rapping and a band of jazzy and classical or chamber musicians did remind me a little of Marcelo D2 & SambaDrive ‘Direct-to-Disc’ LP from a couple of years back. But it remains rather unique, crossing over as it does into so many classy and fully lush genres.
You can certainly, even if you don’t understand the French dialect and language, gauge the emotion and the intensity, the themes and scenes conjured out of the notebook and from each instrument. It also helps that guest vocalist, the worldly, Natacha Atlas does much to soothe and dreamily invoke a certain romantic plaint of North Africa to the deft electric piano-like tinged ‘La Voie Laactee’. And whilst we are at it, a shout out to Nathalie Ahadji’s dreamy, wafted and mizzle-like saxophone; to Cisko Delgado’s soulful and light jazzy cosmic keys (though also credited with bass and on arrangements); and to Samy Bishi’s sweeping, near cinematic in places, violin – Youcef can be heard himself picking up the violin on one of the album’s airy mirage-like interludes.
Compositions and songs are mapped out like a personal cosmology of jazzy suites, neighbourhood reportage, frank discussion and more sympathetic articulations and dreams. A great album in short that entertains as much as it educates and impresses.
Nicolas Remondino ‘Hieratico’
(OOH-sounds) 27th March 2026
Scrapes, shavings, rubs, carvings, tangles of tin and metal; various percussive and drum apparatus timbres, textures along with the unidentified sound of spokes are all used to illuminate crepuscular observed moments and experiment in a soundscape of almost silent disturbances, shadows and observations on Nicolas Remondino latest album. Filed under the solo name this time around, Hieratico includes a host of cameos and an appearance from one of the many groups he’s founded over the years, the Dròlo Ensemble. Many voices and musicians join the fold, appearing often for a brief moment, or suffused amongst the avant-garde, explorative and minimalist passages, churns, circular brushing movements of a simultaneously venerable, supernatural and esoteric nature.
Appearing, I believe, for the very first time on the site, Remondino studied under the improvising luminary of classical and jazz piano, Stefano Battaglina. Remondino appears variously under the LAMIEE moniker when in the solo guise but also founded the Tabula Rasa and Silentium ensembles. There’s also been an extensive list of collaborations, some of which appear on this album. And as if to reflect these various foils and their homelands, track titles seem to be in multiple languages: Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Corsican, but also as far away as Japan. There are some solid names with renowned reputations on the abstract, avant-garde and musique concrète fronts, including the highly respected and experienced musician and vocalist Limpe Fuchs, who’s mantric “no formalism” approach to soundscaping and fluctuated peaks and meandered twisted spoken words can be heard on the strange ching and chimed gamelan-esque ‘Blue Hymn’. The trio of Pierre Bastien (perhaps best known for the Meccano machine Mecanium orchestra), Massimo Silverio (singer-songwriter and composer) and Marco Baldini (a Florence-based composer) manifest some unease amongst the low tuba-like Close Encounters calls and cathedral organ permeation of ‘Tombal’. You could call it an inter-generational balance of ideas, or just feeling out the right sound, the right atmospheres.
Dialects traced back to the time of the Romans, with the Carnic region of the Alps, can be heard in abstracted forms alongside mountain goat trails into, what sounds like, the various ranges that surround Tibet and a reification of the I Ching. Sounds like felt and various materials are wrapped or brushed over the mic, and bottles are rattled, sheets of metal wobbled to resemble a strange thunder, and spoken passages, poems of s sort are pronounced with both wistful resignation and disturbing disquiet.
At times it reminds me of cLOUDEAD and at others of Walter Smetek, but also a whole load of experimental Italian contemporaries too. But at its heart, the album seems unique in its surroundings and processes; the atmosphere and mood personal yet dealing with abstract ideas in a nocturnal climate of freedom and textural experiment. That’s a recommendation by the way!
Snake De ‘Alla Sorrentina’
(Kythibong) 27th March 2026
The results of emptying out an assemblage of hard drives, Dictaphones, mobiles and other assorted devices and units of storage, the collaborative duo of Maxime Canelli and Aymeric Chaslerie put together a less linear and more abstracted, surreal and sci-fi album of eroded fragments, passages, extemporised hauntings and sci-fi interiors.
With a bilingual language of prompted and descriptive titles, each piece seems to have manifested from the ether or the recalled. Like La Monte Young playing exquisite corpses with the Olivia Tremor Control, Basic Channel and a host of kosimsiche innovators, Alla Sorrentina merges the concrete with the tubular, the kinetic, the alien and avant-garde: and many points between. There are touches of the melodic and tuneful amongst the collage and the fragments of data, voices (even continental laughter), static, cosmic bells and the varied jingles and jangles, the hanging and scrapes of the Zodiak and Swiss Cabaret Voltaire art-theatre percussion.
An enervated Faust Tapes perhaps, the album also reminded me in places of playful Cluster and Roedelius. The remnants of near church-like keys are placed with the alpine, the galactic and spells of hallucinatory dream weaving. You could catch something Japanese, something of the Fluxus composers and those working in early electronica as the carousal of sonic ideas and influences circulates. And you can read a lot into the oscillations, the staccato signals, hums, harmonic pings, the indigestive-like masked voices, and the metallic visions of extraterrestrial life.
It’s the sound of liquid bowls; it’s a world both underwater and luna; an hallucination of accumulated sounds, atmospherics, field recordings, tunings, hidden percussive objects, whistled and blown tubes, a baby’s cry and removed surroundings. Something a little different anyway, worthy of investigation and absorption.
Gregory Uhlmann ‘Extra Stars’
(International Anthem) Released 6th March 2026
The innocuous, those meandered thoughts, incidents and gestures magnified, and the noted observations witnessed of nature and its interactions are transformed into a unique musical language by the composer and guitarist (though should really say multi-instrumentalist at this point) Gregory Uhlmann.
A rightly celebrated and held in esteem regular of the L.A scene and constant presence on the rightly revered and much liked International Anthem label, with turns in the collaborative SML collective, a foil to both Perfume Genius (who appears on this album) and to Josh Johnson and Sam Wilkes (last year’s Uhlmann Johnson Wilkes album made my choice release of the year roundup) and to fellow label mate Anna Buterss (anther collaborator who makes an appearance, popping up on bass), Uhlmann has finally found time to go solo with an enriching synthesis of luminescent and ruminated quandaries, descriptions and serendipitous wonders.
Extra Stars inhabits a familiar if now made dreamy, lunar, sometimes oddly and beautifully world and environment; some of it used as prompts and reference points, like Lucia, which refers to the lodge where both Uhlmann and his partner stayed out on the famous Cabrille Highway that runs between San Francisco and Santa Barbara. Less an innocent Beach Boys-like celebration of Big Sur culture and more a tine’s ticking and Mulatu Astatke and Getatchew Mekurya embraced mizzled and snozzled hum of languid unease, the field recorded waves that crashed all around during that stay appear more like tape hiss and noise and point towards the “unnerving”. Though, with Alabasters deft wistful and near serenaded touches it is a beauty of a track. Actually, there’s a feel of that near Ethiopian influence, mixed with something further east and oriental on the beautifully Matmos does cosmic Joe Meek and Django ruminating Days – what a dreamer of a lulled tune that one is. I’m hearing the composition and playing of Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru too, but a lot of the calculus of flutters, bulb-like notation, cascades, harmonic twangs, numbers and multi-layered techniques of such luminaries as Riley, Cage, Reich and Spiegel; all made that more appealing, magical, sparkled, lunar and dotty!
There’s a good and transformative use of the guitar, the mellotron and organ, amongst other expanded instrumentation. And even a use of the voice, with guest Tasha Viets-Vanlear’s “bah” voice put through different pitches and sequences on Voice Exchange.
This really is a most delightful and imaginative album, a whirly trip of modulations, sequences at ease, quirks and warbles. Touching on everything from new age avant-garde to the kosmische (some hints of Cluster and their peers), the American school of pioneering electronics, the post-whatever it is that bands like Tortoise do, echoes of Sakamoto at his most loose and experimental, ambience and cosmic shimmered atmospheres. It makes for an intriguing, often woozy and dreamily transformative listening experience.
Here’s the message bit we hate, but crucially need:
If you’ve enjoyed this selection, the writing, or been led down a rabbit hole into new musical terrains of aural pleasure, and if you able, then you can now show your appreciation by keeping the Monolith Cocktail afloat through the Ko-Fi donation site.
The Digest for November 2025: New Music/The Social Playlist
November 19, 2025
THE MONTHLY DIGEST INCLUDES A CLUTCH OF ACCUMULATED NEW MUSIC REVIEWS AND THE SOCIAL INTER-GENERATIONAL/ECLECTIC AND ANNIVERSARY ALBUMS CELEBRATING PLAYLIST
Photo Credit: Babau by Marco Valli
_/THE NEW___
Babau ‘The Sludge of the Land’
(Artetetra) 14th November 2025
A phantasmagorical shifting of tectonic plates and fever dream of a Henri Rousseau conjured equatorial lost world. And I could leave it at just that, but I’m sure both you as the reader and curious mind, and the duo behind this strange fourth worlds peregrination and inhabitation, would want a bit more to go on.
From the Artertra label founding sonic partnership of Italians Matteo Pennesi and Lugi Monteanni and their long-term Babau project an album that moves an imagined continent of influences towards new sonic, hallucinatory and kooky climes. The first “full length” work since 2023’s Flatland Explorations Vol.2, The Sludge of the Land funnels library music, the avant garde, the discombobulated, wonky electronica, the cartoonish, 32-bit console music, vague uses of ethnography and the atavistic, the visions of Jon Hassell, the breakdown shunts and floppy disc music of Esperanto era Sakamoto, the morphing AI electronic lunacy of Cumsleg Borenail, the fun kookiness and springy worlds of Carmen Jaci and Trans Zimmer & The DJs, new age trance, and at times, the more sublime drifts of Wu Cloud and Iasos into an odd repurposed wilderness. A track like ‘I tried to find myself but eventually found another, and now it’s the two of us somehow’ for example, merges Carl Stone with the mirage guitar bends and hangs of Daniel Vickers, the thinly dried blows of Ariel Kalma.
With titles that are so long as to read like haikus or little stories in their own right, there’s much in the way of descriptive prompts – although some seem like they might reflect the overuse these days of feeding blindly words, detritus and meta from the Internet into ChatGPT or some such device. Much of it describes a hodgepodge of ritual, mythologies, culture and the surreal. And musically and sonically reads like a mixed topography of palm trees, exotic islands, deserts, misty mountains and wet vegetation.
As part of a residency at Casa degli Artisti, Milan, in 2022, Babau turned their creative space into a recording studio and performing venue thanks to audio engineer and musician Francesco Piro, who produced the album. That apparatus includes instruments and effects that make sounds like reversed shaves, tangled and gangly wires, springs, chimes, the mistily fluted, and whistled alongside the recognisable sounds of a lingering foggy sax, of sauntered and hand tub drumming rhythms and both the inner workings of and the serial kooky notation of the piano.
This is an environment that squeezes the Mosquito coast up against Java, Malaysia, Polynesia and the near fantastical to produce something familiar but disjointed and surreal.
The Flower Press ‘Slowdance’
6th November 2025
Continuing to pursue a solo course, but now under the new appellation of the delicate craft imbued The Flower Press, Matt Donovan, in his own meditative and wistful way, turns the sudden loss of his sister into a subtly beautiful and reflective work of art on his fourth album.
The process of grief that prompted not only a change in musical direction (not so much that the musical signatures of past albums are entirely lost) but a much-needed therapeutic outlet, a project in which to find meaning from such a tragic event. The softly evocative Slowdance album offers consolation and testament to a life lived; the memories – referenced in a style with the track titles -, near abstract and visceral, are quantified and saved in sound and musical form to reflect upon with a great fondness and love. For Matt doesn’t just pay his respects, but also sends out moving testimony and vibrations as a way of keeping contact, of saying all the things he might have never had the chance to before, whilst healing himself.
Regular readers of the site may know Matt as the former motorising and propulsive drum beat behind Eat Lights Become Lights, and for his collaborative partnership with Nigel Bryant in the psych-Krautrock-post-punk-folk-industrial duo The Untied Knot. Away from the latter, Matt has released a trio of solo albums: Underwater Swimming (’21), Habit Formation (’22) and Sleep Until The Storm Ends (’23). This latest album of mainly instrumental pieces, takes some of the old influences but, with warmth and a wisped gauze of ether, is moving towards the orbits of Ariel Kalma, Daniel Lanois, The Durutti Column, the flange guitar-like ambient works of Harold Budd, Eno, Susumu Yokota and Mark Hollis post Talk Talk. But then there’s always a certain quirkiness and flash of post-punk and no wave dance music trebly bass playing to be found. And of course, the acoustic folksy and troubadour influences that sound particularly pastoral or in-situ: conjuring up some held dear or nostalgic escape, a glade perhaps or the sensation and touch of falling snowflakes and the building of a snowman. Some of those moments reminded me of the Wayside & Woodlands label whilst others of Arthur Russell.
The measuring of time, the chimes and triangle rings; the thin stick hitting tablas and the desert melting mirage guitar evocations of Daniel Vickers; the harmonium like moods and the Fripp-esque articulated memory of a slow dance watched from dreams; and both the stillness and the wavy, reverberated movements all articulate notions of remembrance and invested introspection. But also perhaps, manifestations of better times ahead, of durability in the face of such a heavy personal loss: the loss of a sibling hitting all that much harder.
A most wonderful album that eventually soars towards a starry celestial plane, Slowdance hovers and drifts above terra firma on a quest to evaluate and represent a life lived and the memories that pour forth from such fateful challenges. With a new title, Matt pushes into ever new and emotionally resonating territories.
Erell Latimer ‘Stay Still’
(Kythibong) 18th November 2025
The translation of visceral and abstract speech, dialogue, narration, poetry, testament, inquiry through musique concrète and tape manipulation, the new experiment from the sociolinguist composer and writer Erell Latimer is an immersive performance of reaction, interaction and interruption.
I’m not sure of the apparatus used, but other than the various machines used for effects, distortion, and what sounds like the manipulated in real time, folded, counter-folded and warped tape reels, both the long form pieces that make up this work rely upon Latimer’s voice and readings. Described in the accompanying notes as partly “concrete fiction”, fragments of Latimer’s text pieces and writings are set to a both alien and distorted, machine-like and discombobulated sounds and oscillations. Mostly in French, with passages of often disturbed or obstructed poetic philosophy and forbode from some English male speaker, the texts fluctuate between the hushed, the near in-hiding and held hostage to the clearly proclaimed and read. The cadence, both interrupted and defined signifies pain, anguish, the critical, stress, panic and theory.
The various resonated and reverberated voices and talks move from background quietness to foreground rustled distortion, and often form interlayered semantic rhythms and new utterances. Often though, Latimer’s voice is stripped down to an assortment of breathing techniques: often sounding like the aftermath of a panic attack, with Latimer trying to get her breath back or get it under control: exhales as important as anything else in this experiment and expression of “alienation, confinement, suffering, resignation, abandonment and death”.
There’s plenty of interesting, thrown, or points and nodes where both vocals and sounds interact to form hallucinations or more supernatural and haunting passages. Sometimes these interactions culminate in simulated tumults of hurricane winds, and others, into something far more musical; nearer the end of the first piece, ‘Ils seront silencieux après’ (“they will be silent after”), there’s a sort of lovely piece of music that’s part Gainsbourg, part Krautrock, part classical soundtrack.
From what sounds like paper or tape fluttering in the draft of a ventilation unit or extractor to bulb-like notes rings and chimes and the sounds of the environment, the voices and speech find space across a constantly explored soundscape of effects and obfuscation. At times it reminded me of Michèle Bokanowski, Matija Schellander, Lucie Vítková and that musique concrete progenitor Pierre Schaeffer; in short, an experimental work of language and semantics that deserves greater attention.
Plants Heal ‘Forest Dwellers’
(Quindi) 28th November 2025
The prolific and always into something drummer and trick noise maker Dave De Rose is back with his keyboardist/percussionist foil Dan Nicholls and visual anthropologist collaborator Louise Boer (otherwise known as Lou Zon) for another round of the electroacoustic project, Plants Heal.
De Rose popped up on the site as part of the Rave At Your Fictional Borders union of Jon Scott of (of GoGo Penguin note), Marius Mathiszik (Jan Matiz, I Work In Communications) and Henning Rohschürmann a while back, but his CV is packed with notable creative enterprises and collaborations, including membership of Electric Jalaba, a stint with the acclaimed Ethio-jazz luminary Mulatu Astake and instigation of the Athens-London traversing Agile Experiments project. The initial seeds for the Forest Dwellers project were planted both through the latter and through Nicholls and Lou’s London-based Free Movements events; both acting as intersections for all three contributors to cross paths, and to explore the central tenant of merging instrumental music with live electronics and DJ sets. If we’re talking about spheres of influence and CVs, Nicholls of course has just as prolific and busy schedule as a keyboardist, reeds player, composer, producer, and visual artis, whilst Lou’s documentary and experimental filmmaking and visual skills have led to a teaching role at Goldsmiths.
Lou’s work revolves around ecology, community, plant medicine, feminism, movement and experiments with analogue techniques. And this seems a good base from which De Rose and Nicholls have spontaneously reacted or conjured up improvised-like sounds and rhythms rich with organic meta and matter. During performances Lou improvises with analogue footage from her library run through video mixers and synthesisers, focused on medicinal plants such as yarrow, hawthorn, nettle and thistle. All those plants feature in processed form on the cover of the record, which was designed in collaboration with Lou’s brother Arthur Boer. Meanwhile, Lou recorded additional footage in Athens during the recording sessions to feed into the continued cycle of the project’s live evolution.
The trio’s second album together (their previous self-titled debut was released back in 2021) is a biomorphic eco system of new age trance music, techno, dub, light jazz, breaks, amorphous ethno-beats, acid and both plant-based and more alien atmospherics. Tech and nature combine to create a kind of Fourth World version of electronic dance music. But that’s really only part of the story, as the living and breathing creepers, vines and branches of the forest canopy and floor integrate with pulsations, shuttered, tubular, hollowed pole paddled and shaved or slowly released electronics to produce a camouflage reverberating effect of movement, growth and expansion.
There’s a revolution of a kind in the same air, with whispery like effected and morphed voices emerging from the fauna, and a revision of the old tribal gathering nature-tech and freedom rave-ups of the late 80s and early 90s. I’m hearing vague signs of Richard H. Kirk, FSOL, Jeff Mills, Lukid, Warp Records, Conrad Schnitzler, Mike Dred and Jon Hassell. Still, there’s more to unpick from the very much percussive and drum led rhythmic evolutions on this album; echoes of various more atavistic and exotic musical influences; timings and patterns enhanced by ethnography study and absorption. From terra firma to the stars, this organic flora form of electroacoustic dance music proves pliable, liquid but full of substance and the tactile, the earth and air.
Super Grupa Bez Fałszywej Skromności ‘The Book Of Job’
(Huveshta Rituals) 28th November 2025
From true obscurity and the dusty shelves of dormant archiving, The Book of Job emerges from its forty-year sleep – recorded as it was back in an omnipresent Soviet controlled Poland of 1985 – into a climate that scarily resonates. Whilst the sickle and hammer have disappeared from the flag, and Communist totalitarian rule has been replaced by a new form of oppressive authoritarianism in Putin’s leader-cult Russia, aggression persists and the threat of invasion, or at least escalation against those former countries that fell behind the Iron Curtain after WWII, looms large. No longer an abstract threat, Russia’s expansionist ambitions look to lock horns with Nato and the West, with a near apocalyptic destructive war in neighbouring Ukraine pushing at the borders of Poland. If nerves can no longer hold, if there is no end to the hostilities, no ground given on either side of this brutalist invasion, and if Ukraine is lost, then Poland becomes the new frontier between Europe and dictatorial Russia: a Russia hellbent it seems on regaining its lost influence and control of Eastern Europe.
There will be generations now totally separated from Poland’s past as an occupied state, subjected to draconian control by the USSR. But the timely arrival of this cult recording will once more remind its people and the world at large, of events in the 1980s; a decade when despite violent suppression, the population rose up to eventually overthrow its Soviet authorities at the end of that decade. When the various notable luminaries of the Polish underground and jazz scenes, and the counterculture’s actors and voices behind the collective ensemble of Super Grupa Bez Fałszywej Skromności first performed this multilingual and faith spanning work at the 1981 Jazz Jamboree festival, the omens weren’t quite so grave. Only weeks later the situation had changed dramatically, with Genral Jaruzelski’s ordained Martial Law rules cracking down ruthlessly on the population. In light of civil peaceful protest and the strike action and heroism of Lech Wałęsa’s famous Solidarity movement, the authorities more or less implemented a military coup of extreme measures: As the accompanying album’s scene-setting essay informs us, “Art was replaced by parades of heavy artillery”. By the time this same group recorded an album, four years later, the very act of making music would be considered a symbol of defiance: unless of course it was used to glorify the Soviet regime. “Paradoxically” the Catholic Church of Poland became a sanctuary. This may explain, in part, why the Hebrew’s Old Testament (reused in the Christian Bible and also “echoed” in the An-Nisa chapter of Islam’s Qur’an) chronicle of Job was used as totem for endurance in the face of such suffering. Because much as Job suffered tribulations and trails at the hands of God, beguiled and tempted by Satan to turn away from his piety, many of the Polish people found solace, resistance and hope despite the relentless attacks on their freedoms.
An allegory of the human condition, The Book of Job, for those who never attended their Sunday Schooling lessons, nor attended a faith-based school, tells the tale of the protagonist and his testing by God through litany and prose: that’s three cycles of debates between Job and his friends, Job’s lamentations, a poem to Wisdom, Elihu’s (a critic of Job and his friends, who may have been a descendent of the Abraham lineage) speeches, and God’s two speeches from a whirlwind. In short, Job is a wealthy God-fearing man with a comfortable life and large family, living in the Land of Uz (which has been situated in various locations of the atavistic Levant and beyond by various sources; anywhere from the old Aram, now modern Syria, to the Edomites kingdom, which now stretches across modern Jordon and Israel). God discusses his piety with Satan (though this is often written down as “adversary”, but we know who they mean), who rebukes God, stating that Job would turn away from God if he was to lose everything within his possessions: which was a lot. God decides to test that theory or challenge by allowing Satan to inflict pain on Job. The test increase, the suffering gets much, much worse, and Job ends up losing his wealth, children and health. Through it all he maintains his faith and piety, but not without much discussion and challenge. By the epilogue, Job’s fortunes and family are thankfully returned to him: Satan I take it, scuttling off to curse and sulk in the shadows.
Recorded in a makeshift “high-fidelity” studio at the STU Theatre in Krakow in the Spring of 1985, The Book of Job album draws with serious depth and political allegory upon the text. Covering everything from stage theatre to the filmic, the avant-garde and of course jazz – most of the lineup in this singular gathered super group hail from Poland’s incredible and influential jazz scene -, but so much else, the Holy Land is transported across porous borders to Eastern Europe to take in the Jewish diaspora, acolytes of Indian and Far Eastern scriptures and the then contemporary 80s sounds of the underground.
The “revered” pool of players, luminaries that took part include the multi-instrumentalist Milo Kurtis, a Pole of Greek origin, born into a family of refugees escaping the civil war in Greece, noted for his roles in Grupa w Skład, Ya-Sou, the cult rock band Maanam and jazz-fusion super group Ossian (also said to have worked with Don Cherry, who gifted Milo his ocarina), on percussion, Jew’s harp and trombita; the Polish flutist of world renown, composer and arranger Krzysztof Zgraja, who made his debut in the jazz-rock band Alter Ego, but also played with Czesław Gładkowski and Jacek Bednarek, on not only his main instrument of choice but the lighter made and smaller range Fortepiano; the Polish avant-garde and free jazz player Andrzej Przybielski, who’s notable credits include stints with the Gdansk Trio, Sesia 72, the Big Band Free Cooperation and Acoustic Action, on trumpet; drummer, composer and cultural animator Janusz Trzciński, known for his extensive work in the theatre, a writer of plays and one of the main instigators behind this project, on drums; the highly rated Zbigniew Wegehaupt, who played with just about every Polish jazz icon going and in both Wojciech Gogolewski’s Quartet and Extra Ball, on both electric bass and double-bass; and the Polish composer, multi-instrumentalist, vocalist and teacher Mieczysław Litwiński, who studied with such groundbreaking luminaries as Stockhausen and co-founded far too many groups and projects to list here, but notably the Independent Studio of Electroacoustic Music and Light For Poland, on sitar.
Added to that role call was an ensemble of either commanding, English Repertory-like or ominous voices and vocalists from stage, screen, including Ignacy Machowski, Adam Baruch, Zdzisław Wardejn, Jerzy Radziwiłowicz, Juliusz Berger and Andrzej Mitan. It must be pointed that only Mitan receives the credit of vocalist; the Polish poet, performer, founder of the Alma Art record label, chants a poetically evocative forgiving gospel of obedience and implored yearning whilst on the album track ‘When A Man Dies’. Echoed as much from a cavern or cave on the desolate plains of the Uz as in the synagogue, the repeated mantra of “Man. World. Pain. Silence” is stoically announced over and over to sombre and yet beautiful tones. The rest of that cast find themselves either narrating or interlayered with a whisper, chattering chorus of atmospheric dialogue. It reminded me, in part, of Aphrodite’s Child own Biblical opus 666.
Hallowed yet dark and almost Chthonian in places – a touch of Byzantine too – the album sets an otherworldly, afflatus but esoteric scene with the opening resonated waves of airy, fluted and blowy vibrations, moving like cycled or tubular wind from the subterrain, on the introductory entitled opener. Something mystical dances in the wind, as echoes of Alice Coltrane and Prince Lasha stir up spiritual jazz mirages and something quite ghostly seems to be lurking in the vibrations. The story unfolds, the mood suitably enacted. ‘Satan’s Concept’ follows this with percussive shimmer and shivers and a supernatural voice of forbode. Evocations of both Don Cherry and 80s Miles Davis like trumpet both trill and sound almost swaddled on another visceral and porous geographical musical landscape: the vibrated bowl sounds of Tibet for example. But the whole feel changes on the first of three litanies, with what could be called a post-punk bass and signs of krautrock and jazz-fusion: think an impressive union of Einstürzende Neubauten, My Life In The Bush of Ghosts Eno and Byrne, Desert Players Ornette Coleman, Jon Hassell and Ramuntcho Matta relocated to the land of the lost tribes. ‘Accusation’ has a promising Blue Note jazzy double bass introduction, a little bluesy and bendy. It’s accompanied by some rattled hand drums; the only instruments that express and lay down the atmospheric flexed, stretched, harmonic pinged backing to the biblical echoed English voice that narrates and questions God.
The post-punk-jazz mood is back for the second litany. A sort of no wave funk noodle of Dunkelziffer and Miles, a long low horn from the Steppes, and dialogue of wisped and more esoteric voices spoken in multiple dialects, there’s a supernatural quality to the atavistic summoning of scripture, and the age-old battles between good and evil. Almost skulked, there’s vocal coos and spectre like demons and angels in the shadows of this dramatic Krautrock-esque holy visitation. ‘Hope’ brings back in the Eastern influences, the sound of Buddhist India with the signature reverberations and brassy rings of the sitar: Shiva on the Vistula. With its psychedelic ragga mediations, the sitar acts in unison with the twanged boing sound of the Jew’s harp, the only accompaniment to the Hebrew narration.
The third and last of the litanies is quasi-80s funking jazz, with elements of Hassell’s Fourth World experiments. The flute whistles and flutters willowed fashion on a moving jazzy-fusion-funky-no-wave bass, as overlayed voices create a more convivial dialogue. There’s a smog horn too that creates a misty vapour effect. But the rhythm is like some kind of Israeli or Eastern European dance.
The album finishes on a strongly reverberated Hebrew voiced narration, a sacred holy conversation. Near the end of ‘Final’ a dreamier ray of light like flute emerges, slowly and softly drifting skywards. The sound of relief. A burden lifted.
You can easily find the parallels, the battles with faith in the face of such brutality, of oppression, and in this case, Soviet authoritarianism: The role of religion and believing playing a crucial part in resistance. As a near cryptic or hidden means of showing such defiance, The Book of Job and its lessons carried that message of artistic and political/social hope. This album, even without any of its important cultural and political context, is an artefact that deserves saving and savouring: a real intriguing, atmospheric and near theatrical experience worthy of attention and acclaim. Not just a slice of history but an experimental work of art.
___/The Monolith Cocktail Social Playlist Vol. 103___
For the 103rd time (and most probably the last as I change the format for next year), the Social Playlist is an accumulation of music I love and want to share, with tracks from my various DJ sets and residencies over the years and both selected cuts from those artists and luminaries we’ve lost on the way and from those albums celebrating anniversaries each month.
It was a few months back that I celebrated the 100th edition of this series, which originally began over 12 years ago. The sole purpose being to select an eclectic and generational spanning playlist come radio show, devoid of podcast-esque indulgences and inane chatter. In later years, I’ve added a selection of timely anniversary celebrating albums to that track list, and paid homage to some of those artists lost on the way.
The final social of 2025 merges together anniversary celebrating albums from both November and December. This selection includes 50th trumpeted milestones for Eno’s Another Green World, Patti Smith’s Horses, Kraftwerk’s Radio-activity, Burning Spear’s Marcus Garvey and Parliament’s Mothership Connection. There are even older throwbacks, 60th salutations, to The Who’s My Generation (I’ve gone for The Users version of ‘It’s Not True’ for something a bit different) and The Beatles’ Rubber Soul (I’ve gone for two covers, Davy Graham’s take on ‘I’m Looking Through You’, and Anne Murray’s version of ‘You Won’t See Me’). Added to that impressive list are 40th nods to The Jesus and Mary Chain’s Psychocandy, and LL Cool J’s Radio; and finally, whilst we’re in the hip-hop icon camp, I had to drop a track from the Genuis/GZA’s Liquid Swords, which is 30 this month.
The rest of the list includes songs from across the last five decades, with entries from Excepter, Vitriol, The Mattoid, Cowboys International, Milford Graves triumvirate free jazz experiment with Arthur Doyle and Hugh Glover under the Children of the Forest banner, Pekka Airaksinen, Sir Robert Orange Peel, Byzantium, Thony Shorby Nwenyi, Fat Spirit and more…
Tracks:
The Users ‘It’s Not True’
Anne Murray ‘You Won’t See Me’
Cowboys International ‘Part Of Steel’
Brian Eno ‘I’ll Come Running’
Excepter ‘Maids’
The Mattoid ‘Suicide’
Patti Smith ‘Redondo Beach’
The Jesus and Mary Chain ‘Taste The Floor’
Fat Spirit ‘Planet Earth III’
Catherine Ribeiro ‘Iona melodie’
The Springfields ‘Are We Gonna Be Alright?’
Davy Graham ‘I’m Looking Through You’
This Heel ‘Bad World Above’
LL Cool J ‘That’s A Lie’
Parliament ‘Mothership Connection’
GZA ‘Hell’s Wind Staff/Killah Hills 10304’
Pekka Airaksinen ‘Ratnasikhin’
Vitriol ‘Restart’
Sir Robert Orange Peel ‘Brutalists’
Kraftwerk ‘Antenna’
Et At It ‘Beets’
Burning Spear ‘Marcus Garvey’
Thony Shorby Nwenyi People in the World’
Milford Graves, Arthur Doyle and Hugh Glover ‘March 11, 1976 II’
Byzantium ‘What A Coincidence’
Dry Ice ‘Mary Is Alone, Pt. I’
EABS ‘Niekochana’
Jack Slade ‘Lipstick’
Eberhard Schoener ‘Only The Wind’.
Our Daily Bread 648: Tortoise ‘Touch’
October 23, 2025
Album Review By Dominic Valvona
Image courtesy of Todd Weaver
Tortoise ‘Touch’
(International Anthem X Nonesuch Records) 24th October 2025
The highly influential and many tentacled Tortoise collective have pretty much reached a pantheon status as innovators of a postmodernist fusion of influences and musical strands that includes jazz and all its many fecund offshoots, rock, the leftfield, the avant-garde and the electronic. This almost seamless if explorative and experimental embrace of “post-everything” ideas is unsurprising, for they were hot-housed in that much important cultural hub of Chicago, home to some of the most important and most influential developments and artists in the jazz, the blues, rock ‘n’ roll, dance music and hip-hop fields. Of course, there’s also that post-rock scene tag to consider, a label that has followed the group around since their inception in the early 1990s – although the story really begins back in the late 80s with founding members Douglas McCombs and drummer John Herndorn, both of which, despite some lineup changes, departures and new recruitments over the past thirty odd years, have stayed the course.
Whether together under the Tortoise shell or apart, divided up into spin-offs and wholly sperate projects and entities (from the various versions of the Chicago Underground to Isotope 217 and Brokeback) their reach on the late 20th and early 21st centuries musical landscapes has been impressive. They’ve arguably created something that is there’s alone; a language and method (apparently anarchic yet egalitarian) that works for such a diverse range of musicians with experiences in an eclectic range of genres. But they’ve been apart as a group, so to speak, since the release of 2016’s The Catastrophist.
Committed however to unifying the vehicle that has proven so successful, stalwarts McCombs and Herndorn are joined by Dan Bitney, John McEntire and Jeff Parker for their eighth album, Touch. Their first album in nearly nine years is also the first album to be recorded across a tri-cities network. Previous records have been recorded more or less in the city that birthed them: Chicago. But now, members are spread across state lines, in Portland and L.A., and so there’s a new impetus and methodology of remote exchange and layering: The process has changed somewhat from the days of collectively living and creatively jamming together under one loft space roof.
They’re back, but then again, they never left, grouping as they have under various umbrellas and collaborations. For example, guitarist Parker has branched out in recent years under his own name with albums on International Anthem, one of the partners, alongside Nonesuch Records, in the co-operative label sharing enterprise behind the new Tortoise album. Just as renowned on record as they are live, fans and those who’ve yet to be drawn towards the group but who might find this latest album appealing, will be delighted to hear that there’s a whole bunch of both North American and European live dates to look forward to this year and next.
Preludes and tasters, videos and multimedia teasers have been dropped in the run up to the Touch album release – some involving recent International Anthem roster names. And so, the anticipation has been building for months. Those familiar with the treasured catalogue will find a group certainly keen to plough new sonic and musical furrows, and yet remain connected to such iconic albums as Millions Now Living Will Never Die and TNT.
With references to a demanding work by a love-sick and hurt Erik Satie, a submarine volcano in the Pacific and the heaviest element in the periodic table, there’s prompted doses of science, geography and the avant-garde made human with emotional pulls and swept gestures that could be called romantic. For this time around Tortoise, no matter how unique in practice, seem to be creating a certain drama and evocative sentiment on tracks like the estranged Parisian tango shimmy and classically strained ‘Promenade à deux’, and the twangy mirage Western, reframed by Sky Records, gravity defying cosmic soundtrack ‘Oganesson’ – named after the Armenian/Russian nuclear physicist and the element that has the most heavy protons and electrons on the Periodic table, atomic number 118: a synthetic element if anyone is asking, that doesn’t appear naturally on Earth and which is extremely difficult to process. The former of those two tracks features the guest strings pairing of violinist Marta Sofia Honer (readers may recall Honer’s The Closet Thing To Silence partnership last year for International Anthem with Ariel Kalma and Jeremiah Chiu, which went on to make our choice albums of 2024 list) and cellist Skip Vonkuske adding their own special something to the transmogrified Francophone vibes.
Expanding into all sorts of areas musically and sonically, the album matches The Cars with Pino Rucher and Holy Fuck on the tubular bristled, clapped and encouraged turn timpani rumbling and nicely rolled-off ‘Vexations’ – a reference to the incredibly tough one-page notation piece by Satie that calls for the pianist to repeat an instruction 840 times, and takes anywhere from 16 to 20 hours to perform; Cage, not one to put off by such trivialities of endurance and an audience’s attention, famously had a go at it -, and evokes a motorik driven sensibility of Rother and Electrelane with hints of Thomas Dinger on the electrically harped ‘Axial Seamount’ – named after the complex and still poorly understood, it’s said, Pacific Ocean submarine volcano that sits at the epicentre of the Cobb-Eickelberg Seamount chain; first discovered in the 1970s.
Many ideas are formed, all congruously converging to create something a bit different; the doorbell like chimes and lattice of tubular bells and scaffold coming together with jazz-rock and the kosmsiche, or the Techno beats of ‘Elka’ that follow on from the squirrelling 80s fusion of new wave jazz turn heavily laboured, weighted down ‘Works and Days’. ‘A Title Comes’ meanwhile, reminded me of Sven Wunder reimagining the Faust Tapes. This is what they do best, forming or transducing what could be a mess of influences, strands and experiences into something that gels and conjures up descriptions, emotions, scenes, events, science facts, chemicals, and states of the mind and the landscape. And with this latest album, the comeback that might or might not be, they continue to avoid definition. Flexing if anything and creating ever new pathways for sonic and musical exploration. This album however is filled with mood music: some that dances and is propulsive, and some that are far more lucid and sensitive. Touch is an album that I predict will grow on you and get better with each and every play. Only time will tell if it becomes one of their most endurable and lasting influential works.
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