Mind In Camden will always remind me of years spent working in the west end and getting the bus home to Gospel Oak, face pressed against the window and counting down the (over)familiar shopfronts on Camden High St (Regis the…
**NOW SHIPPING** "2 Songs that include Singing, a Programmable Percussion Synthesizer and FM Synthesis." 7" in wraparound sleeve, edition of 300. More information to follow. Tracklist:A. Circuli (6:12)B. Timer (3:49) IN STOCK | 7" | EDITION OF 300 | RELEASED FEBRUARY…
**Warehouse find** Sublimely poised astral melancholia / art-decade drone-poems of uncommon delicacy AND depth of feeling. A truly ravishing and redemptive listen. More information and grasping comparisons to follow, probably, but for now kinda think it speaks for itself -…
"Renaissance space music." Edition of 25... properly sick... recommended for the kind of messed-up folk into Werkbund, Gossiwor, Civilistjavel!, Thuja, MAAT... don't miss. C40.
"Societal deterioration vibes." Hands-down my favourite release of 2020. A charred black box recorder prised from the wreck of the present-day, taking all the overstimulation and unprocessed anxiety of a life lived with fifty browser tabs open and alchemising it…
From gardens where we feel insecure! In Figurines, across a dozen elegiac, sighing song-dreams of innocence and experience, The Doozer conjures a mental allotment whose very seclusion and orderliness acts as some kinda portal to the infinite… The Doozer -…
"Wichtig ist: Wie fühlst du dich, wenn du abends ins Bett gehst?" Advanced, microtonal, free tekno trips from beyond the ultraworld…tomorrow’s news today. On ‘Gute Freizeit’, predator-mode bass cuts Moonraker-like across beats broken with fanatical, space-time-pricking precision...‘Prima Freizeit’ harnesses strobing…
Mature, expertly modulated space blues and Isolationist architectures from Scythe, pulsing and gleaming in finest kosmische configuration/tradition, torn between new-career-in-a-new-town optimism and ghostly withdrawal, its stately synth sequences and guitar-drizzle casually slicin (scythin?) yer atria open as they begin their slow…
**Warehouse find** "Please let me touch Britney's pussy / I'm 10 years old / I die on Thursday." Singular remorseless North London DIY audio-nasty recorded piecemeal in 2001-2007, self-released as a CD a few years later, and now manifesting in the…
**Warehouse find** Drained but poignant Desertshore visions...earthy, unruly, atavistic folk energies married to beautifully latticed, extraterrestrial electronics...a Mars-probe manned by Pärson Sound / Träd, Gräs Och Stenar hairies, with a cross-legged, strung-out Klaus Schulze running mission control. Sky-sawing harmonium drones...echoes of…