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On Slowly Melting, Janel Leppin turns her fuzz‑saturated cello into a one‑woman orchestra of grief, resolve and slow-motion rapture. Layering guitar, bass, piano and Prophet‑5 around her bowed lines, she sculpts a solo album where an ancient instrument, wired into modern circuitry, becomes a tectonic emotional force.
Since 2005, Mariska Baars aka soccer Committee, has quietly carved out a singular space where folk, ambient and experimental music dissolve into one another. Working with little more than her voice, an acoustic guitar and delicate loops, Baars creates songs of a remarkable intimacy. There's nowhere to hide in these arrangements, and that's precisely where their magic lies. For Accidental Meetings, Baars revisits a selection of songs from across her catalogue, gently reshaping and reimagining som…
Francesco Battiato was born on 23 March, 1945, in Jonia, a small town in the province of Catania. After attending the secondary school he moved to Milan to seek his fortune as a musician, but without any significant results during the first years. Giorgio Gaber listened to him by chance and, sensing his talent, recommended him to Ricordi, who didn’t want to engage him. Therefore, Gaber recommended him to Walter Gürtler, who immediately accepted to include him in the group of the protest singers,…
On Paradise Cove, Misha Panfilov and Shawn Lee build a sun‑bleached instrumental universe where deep‑funk pulse, soft‑psych haze and library exotica glide together. Surf‑tinted guitars, analogue keys and supple rhythm work trace a 35‑minute arc that feels like a lost soundtrack to a dream resort just slightly out of time.
On Percussions, Saint Tropez Orchestra turn the drum kit into a bandleader, spreading 20 compact cuts across a spectrum of funk, library jazz and tropical pulse. Every arrangement is built from the skin outward, making rhythm the song’s spine, flesh and nervous system all at once.
On II, The Oscillators lock into a heady, loop‑driven chemistry where dubwise bass, analogue synth chatter and live‑wired percussion orbit the same gravitational field. Each piece feels like a workshop in motion: themes emerge, mutate and dissolve, turning the record into a continuous, hands‑on exploration rather than a fixed set of songs.
On Loud World, Nicholas Tripi (a.k.a. Nick Tripi of Big Fun) turns the drummer’s vantage point into a full compositional engine. Rhythm is the load‑bearing wall for a delirious blend of space‑lounge, jungle jazz, KPM‑style library cues and krautrock pulse, ten compact pieces sketching a neon‑lit, nervy planet of their own.
On Twenty‑Two, Initials MB offers a quietly psychedelic slice of French pop that feels like a faded postcard from another decade. Reissued on vinyl a decade after its digital birth, the album folds jangling guitars, analogue keys and wistful melodies into compact songs that trace one songwriter’s search for sound, place and identity.