All warm clouds and gentle fog on this dreamy pop number from Oslo-based duo Wibes, whose name is a cheeky nod to Scandinavians’ discomfort with most hard V’s. The press blurb for the song is too good not to relay, even though I usually try to steer clear of doing so: You are an indoor cat who has always dreamed about the outside world. One day, the door is left open, and your adventure begins. What a touching sentiment to base a song around? Even though none of you reading this are, in fact, cats, who hasn’t shared in that kind of feeling? Seems to me most of us feel trapped by something or other, and dream of some benevolent force leaving the door ajar enough for us to expand or escape. This is out now on Kollektiv Transport for streaming. No bandcamp unfortunately, but thankfully the group let me share with you the mp3 here.

Wibes – “Life Outside” (mp3)

Heading southeast now, over the Norge-Sverige grensen and Oresundsbroen to Copenhagen, with a really pleasant slice of house from Danish producer GJOL (Mickael Gjøl). I don’t cover a lot of house that would typically be described as ‘deep’ — even though I’ve always gravitated towards the typical elements of the genre: intimate keys, midtempo rhythms, and deeply hi-cut basslines. I think it’s that deep house tracks often play so directly into the genre’s tropes without any sense of self-reflection or historical context. But sometimes, a producer just lines the elements up right, and doesn’t try too hard. “Teardrops” is like melted butter on a fresh-baked bun; nothing extra is needed here for pure satisfaction. And as much as the Danes like their breakfast BMOs with ost, this manages to steer just clear of that deep house cheese. No bandcamp for this one either, but it’s out for streaming, and GJOL kindly let me provide you all with the mp3.

GJOL – “Teardrops” (mp3)

Continuing further south again, across the Fehmarn Belt and all the way to Bavaria, is another great house track–this time by Munich’s Sheebo. This track is the kind of house music I’m attracted to most these days: understated, shuffling, outsider stuff with enough lofi vibe to warm up the room without having to resort to crushing the track to oblivion or drenching it in pads and reverb. When I attempt to make house music, I’m usually guilty of exactly those sins, so I respect when a producer can accomplish the sort of haze and warmth this track delivers without doing either. Once again, no bandcamp for this (is it me or are more and more artists opting not to upload there–why?), but it’s available for streaming, and Sheebo was very generous to let me upload the mp3 for you here.

Sheebo – “est.” (mp3)

Sharp collaboration between Swedish producer Cussed Splint (Patrik Nord) and Southwest Florida-based emcee Nick Genre. A half-time roller that’s clearly the product of a producer steeped in drum and bass aesthetic, it nonetheless manages not to succumb to the genre’s tropes at all. There’s no drop, never a full release—it’s all tense precision and careful automation, entirely in service of Nick Genre’s refreshingly good rap. As a middle-aged guy from New York, whose first teenage love was “real hip hop” (insert whatever shorthand is needed here to indicate I know this is and always was a goofy term), I find myself harder and harder to please when it comes to rap–a cliche if there ever was one. But I’m genuinely enjoying everything about the vocals here. Nick Genre’s timbre and delivery are appropriately gruff and precise. Lyrically, he manages that elusive feat of covering somewhat vulnerable subject matter without ever getting remotely sappy; he paints a picture without resorting to a series of similes. And it works particularly well in the context of Nord’s production aesthetic. This is out for streaming all over, and you can grab it on bandcamp, but Nord was also kind enough to let me post the mp3 here.

Cussed Splint – “Here We Come” ft. Nick Genre (mp3)

Second up, two new tracks from Tiny Little Ghost (Vanni Casagrande), an Italian artist I covered a few weeks ago.. The first is a haunting semi-ambient piece that begins as reference to Barber’s timelessly bittersweet Adagio for Strings (from his Opus 11), under a veil of bird chips–ultimately building into a brief release of ecstatic bass and synth wail. The second continues Casagrande’s penchant for cinematic arrangement and sepulchral aesthetic, but this time with a second movement marked by sludgy, steppy drums and mutated wobble. No bandcamp for these, unfortunately, but Casagrande was generous enough to let me share the mp3s with you here, if you’re not the streaming type.

Tiny Little Ghost – “A Memory to Follow” (mp3)
Tiny Little Ghost – “It Moves” (mp3)

Last but not least tonight, two chilling tracks from Brooklyn-based Kodomo (real name Chris Child). These are both from Child’s upcoming album, Sisu, and each threads the needle between pensive 2-step and minimalist euphoric electronica. “Light Rain” features disembodied vocals from vocalist tawnylawns saying something I can’t quite make out (box of pills, twisted wrist, I know the color of…). Even as nonsequiturs, when supported by a tightly restrained triangle wave bassline and sparse percussion, the words manage to nonetheless communicate a sense of apathy, dissociation, and resignation. It’s fitting energy for the current historical moment, and has that soul-soothing effect that only mournful music quite does. The second track Childs sent over, the album’s title track, is similarly emotive, but more hopeful and forward-looking; maybe an antidote for the detachment of the former. Sisu is out Febrary 10th for streaming all over, and also on bandcamp; Childs was also nice enough to let me share with you the mp3s here.

Kodomo – “Light Rain” (mp3)
Kodomo – “Sisu” (mp3)

An intricate slice of forward-thinking electronica from French artist Alex Augier, in support of his recent LP, The Lyrical Age. This song runs the gamut. The first and second movements are all interlaced polyrhythms underpinning a digest of sound design that speaks to the breadth of what ‘electro’ has meant for the past 35-odd years; represented is everything from the submerged blippiness of the aquatic drexiyan universe of the 90s, the grit and stagger of the genre’s reinvention by Augier’s countrymen in the early 2000s, and the icy clarity of today’s takes on the genre. I’m careful to use that genre name only when actually called for, but there are also cases like this where a song references ‘electro’ so closely without ever submitting to its core motifs, ultimately producing something that isn’t actual ‘electro’ at all. Grab The Lyrical Age on bandcamp (including in a spectacularly beautiful vinyl package), or find it for streaming all over.

Alex Augier – “Lives In Resonance” (bc)

Second up is another submission from France; this one from Parisian artist laum, who’s mining the possibly infinite source of inspiration that is a breakup. Breakup songs are usually a product of youth, but it’s hard to deny the how fucking easy it remains to connect to the melodrama–the feeling sandwich that is yearning for someone and also being furious with them has just got to be among the most universal experiences. laum delivers all that in a tight 2:42: sharp re-sequenced military breakbeats, a waxing and waning reese-type bass, stutter triplet plucks, and a delicately melancholy vocal. Works a charm. No bandcamp for this, I’m afraid, but it’s out for streaming and laum was generous in letting me share with you all the mp3 here.

laum – “Without U” (mp3)

Last but not least is a sweetly stirring tune from Australian Timothy and the Apocalypse (real name Timothy Poulton). Apparently written while Poulton was off-grid alone in the NSW hinterland, the song does seem to express both an awe of the natural world, and a counterbalance of the sort of bittersweet loneliness that kind of isolation can rouse. No bandcamp for this either, but Poulton was kind enough to let me upload the mp3 for you here (in case anyone wants to listen to this off-the-grid, for full effect); it’s also available for streaming all over.

Timothy and the Apocalypse – “Just For A Moment” (mp3)

Good dub always gives me the best kind of sinking feeling in my guts. That’s a product of bass, sure, but it’s also that vital simplicity–where a song is stripped back to its essentials, and delay and reverb become primarily a means to glue back together the pieces as they drop in and out of the mix. There’s something about that methodology that itself creates darkness and a visceral sense of solitude. Each of the elements has to live and die almost on its own. The dub of this tune sent over by narion, an artist from somewhere in the “undergrowth of the English suburban sprawl,” isn’t classic dub stylistically (or a ‘dub’ by the typical standards of UK club music either), but methodologically it has the hallmarks. The artist also sent over the vocal version, which includes some surreal spoken word, dj cuts, and naturally keeps the elements more intact. Grab the tracks on bandcamp–no streaming on this one.

narion – “signs in the dub” (bc)

narion – “signs in the stars” (bc)

Second up is an essentially genre-less exploration from Ben Neill, a New York-based artist who’s worked with a list of luminaries too numerous to list (think everyone from John Cage to John Cale, King Britt to DJ Spooky). I suppose you could call this song downtempo of a sort, given its tempo and some of its palette, but it’s just reductive to try to categorize it. As its name may imply, the song is meant as a direct comment on the current political climate, and the feelings of helplessness so many of us currently feel as we watch a house on fire. Fittingly, the song samples Apocalypse Now, and uses Neill’s mutantrumpet style to paint a dizzying picture of transcendent fright, panic, and disorientation. Art often describes itself as political or philosophical, but you can really tell when a piece served as an actual emotional valve for the discomfort and uneasiness of its maker. No bandcamp for this unfortunately, but it’s out for streaming all over, and Neill was kind enough to let me post for you the mp3 here.

Ben Neill – “Breaking Point” (mp3)

Last up tonight is a skeletal bit of emotive club music from SYEYL (pronounced sea-el, real name Hrithik Arora), an artist from Delhi. It’s another example of how a song stripped to its essential elements is often the most effective. All you really need is a glistening pad, some skittering drums, a utilitarian bass line, a touch of ear candy, and some thoughtful arrangement. No need to get too fancy; put it together carefully and the result is as satisfying as can be. This is out now on Dusky’s 17 Steps imprint as part of SYEYL’s Mental Sunshine EP, which you can grab on bandcamp.

SYEYL- “Space Becomes The Mirror” (mp3)

Having recently had a second child, I’m aware more than ever of the iterative nature of life. I saw myself in my daughter, now I do in my son, and I also see her in him. They always say that having children will change your life, and give it meaning. For me at least, though, it’s been more a question of realizing that the meaning in my life doesn’t need to be grand or profound. Yes, my life is mostly about my children now, and watching their growth and experience is consistently exciting and inspiring, but I don’t often find myself imagining what ambitious and grand things they’ll do in their lives. Instead, I imagine them as delicate spokes on a wheel with self-sustaining momentum, and my primary role as that of the previous spoke, contributing to the force of the wheel until I can’t any longer, blocking as much interference as I can to prevent interruptions to the wheel’s continued movement. I don’t want to make their lives easy or hard, I just want to make sure their path is relatively clear to play out naturally, and at a reasonable and sustainable pace.

These two pieces submitted by Greek composer Aeoni (real name Ioanna Theofilakou) are from her recent EP, Lifetime, which explores the cyclical quality of life–treating it as a series of variations with no inherent progress or climax. Owing to her background as a physicist, the pseudonym Aeoni is also a reference to iterative cycles. Specifically, it’s a reference to Roger Penrose’s conformal cyclic cosmology theory, which suggests that our universe is a cycle (aeon) that began with the big bang, and will gradually and eventually become so vast that it essentially empties itself of matter. This will lead to another big bang, and a new universe will be born from the remnants of ours, after which the cycle will repeat again. (Forgive me if this is a butchering of the science.)

The two pieces Aeoni shared with me are both from the second half of her record, each of the songs on which are titled for a stage of life. The first, “Senescence,” is the bit that scares most people. Growing old; experiencing the slow of the regenerative processes that most directly represent vitality. This, for many, may also signal a sort of loss of identity, when one’s view of oneself degrades as one’s body does. But maybe if one’s tempo is right, it’ll be this phase that can make one’s internal life feel most concrete and comfortable? Aeoni’s take on it would seem to suggest this; she’s woven together a gently meandering loop that feels somewhat fragile, but ultimately comfortable in itself, and comforting. The second, “Rebirth,” is the end of the EP, and reminds a little bit of an Astrid Sonne record, at least insofar as it’s built of a front-and-center semi-live drum kit supporting a flurry of resampled and recontextualized classical instruments and fluttering found sound. Aeoni seems to imagine the final cycle in the aeon not as empty and vast like Penrose, without matter to slow it down or give it a clock, but instead as determined and charging insistently towards the inevitable in resolute cadence.

Lifetime isn’t on bandcamp, unfortunately, but it’s streamable all over, and I was kindly given permission to share with you these mp3s.

Aeoni – “Senescence” (mp3)
Aeoni – “Rebirth” (mp3)

Stealthy club weapon from Somepoe and duo Winter Games, all three from the subarctic expanses of Lapland in Finland. Fun to think about a trio of Finns holed up in a winter cabin in the snowy fells of northern Finland making music inspired by Jamaican and UK sound system culture. Maybe it tracks that when trapped in the cold, one would pine for the Tropics; but it’s probably more just a product of our increasingly borderless world, in which each of us is totally free to access whatever inspires us viscerally. And as I’ve remarked on other examples of Scandinavians making UK-centric music, they almost always contribute some of that distinctly Nordic precision to the sound, achieving low end heft without sacrificing the headroom needed for spacious atmosphere. Maybe the stillness of the inselberg plain and boreal forests tune their ears for it. This is out now for streaming or on bandcamp via the trio’s label, Polar Dance.

Somepoe & Winter Games – “Inna Riddim” (bc)

More music from the Nordics, this time from Icelandic skurken (Jóhann Ástuson), who I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. ‘skurken’ is the word villain in most Nordic languages, but I hear Ástuson’s music as more hopeful than nefarious. The first track he sent over is another one from his recent album Nótt, which I covered before–it’s ascendant and upward facing two-step electronica with more of the northern character I referenced above. The other two, however, are older, both with a buzzier, self-reflective quality that gives me the impression maybe he’s experienced some transformative personal progress in the past few years–or at least that he’s seeking emotional clarity, and expressing as much in his music. Grab Nótt on bandcamp.

skurken – “Midnight” (mp3)
skurken – “Twilight” (sc)
skurken – “Freezer” (sc)

For a sharp left turn to finish things off, a collaboration between Utahns Crewless and Madge. “We Don’t Sleep” is a high energy ode to the hybrid electropop and house records of the early 2010s. It’s not the kind of thing I’ve been tuned into to lately, but I just couldn’t resist those chonky piano chords and blisteringly artificial horns that remind me of that perfect and ever-ubiquitous ‘Calabria’ loop. Vitality for days on this one. This is unfortunately not on bandcamp, but it’s out for streaming, and Crewless was kind enough to allow me to provide an mp3 here.

Crewless & Madge – “We Don’t Sleep” (mp3)

Superbly inky synth pop from Molly Mogul, a nomadic artist sometimes based in Bristol (but originally from a small village near Munich). Mogul describes “Run” as a reminder that you can’t outrun your fears or hangups; an encouragement to look at yourself and your relationships with honesty. That’s certainly a universal and timely concept, especially as we collectively confront the reality of multiple generations now having grown up with the inability to escape the vanity and perpetual guilt and shame of online life. How much harder it has become for kids to develop an internally-driven sense of right and wrong, good and bad, when they have been shown from day dot a thousand versions of what they should be. The advice to try to see yourself clearly is resonant, but it also strikes me as if we’ve set people up to fail at this–how can you judge yourself with grace and honesty if you lack any firm sense of self? Mogul seems to recognize this: “You said you’ll find yourself; First you need to find the starting line.” This is the first single from Molly Mogul’s debut album A Bouquet of Hopes and Dreams, out in April; no bandcamp for this, but it’s out for streaming, and Mogul has been kind enough to let me share the mp3 here.

Molly Mogul – “Run” (mp3)

Argent, aluminum-like track from Warsaw’s Dataplanet, sitting somewhere braindance and a somber pop ballad. This is from Dataplanet’s upcoming LP, Last Human Process, which is informed by ongoing tensions and events in Eastern Europe in the context of technological evolution–including the war in Ukraine, and the erosion of democratic institutions in Hungary and elsewhere. It maps an increasingly likely world where technology may well persist longer than we do, or at least after our social structures have crumbled. It’s delicate and precise stuff, but still completely emotion-forward, which tracks well with its intention: a time when all that’s relevant about us is how we feel, and the structure around us is wholly artificial. Last Human Process is out February 1st, but Dataplanet was nice enough to let me share this mp3 with you now.

Dataplanet – “chrs” (mp3)

A giddy illustration of a hazey summer night from NYC duo Matt Swain (drums) and Kenneth Fletcher (synth), aka Outerboros. This song makes me think of kids playing in a popped hydrant at dusk, or an early evening subway showtime in August when the dancers are sweaty and tired, but charged by a day’s worth of sun and quarter waters. Outerboros also sent over another nice piece which features NYC stalwart Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire doing something softer and more melodic than I’m used to hearing from him. Lots of vibes here, I will be clocking these fellas in the future. Both tracks are from Outerboros’ third EP as a duo, which is out now for streaming or on bandcamp; they’ve also been generous enough to let me share the mp3s with you here.

Outerboros – “Night Owl” (mp3)
Outerboros – “Tonight” ft. Mr Muthafuckin’ eXquire (mp3)

Compelling submission from Bordeaux-based STABNEE. In French, papoter essentially means to chitchat or prattle. Sampling a line from French rap duo PNL, “j’papote avec ma pocket” (chat with my pocket), is meant as a reference to loneliness; talking to yourself becomes the only outlet because no one else is there. The song captures some of the often bewildering quality of anxiety and solitude, albeit mostly indirectly: it starts abruptly in the same way a wave of loneliness can come on suddenly out of nowhere; the repetitive and incessant quality of its 3 note lead line is nonetheless oddly comforting; the low end weighs heavily on the chest; and then it’s over before it really has a chance to fully develop. The song is from STABNEE’s recent album Cycle, which is out now to stream. No bandcamp, but the artist has kindly allowed me to upload the mp3 here.

STABNEE – “j’papote avec ma pocket” (mp3)

Turning from the pain of loneliness to the sweetness of yearning; a lovely bit of almost-lofi house from Dublin’s Blimp (real name Shane Smythe). I believe the vocal comes from a track by Dutch deep house producer Wolffman, but it’s possible it’s just that increasingly common problem of producers all having access to the same sample packs. Either way, Blimp flips the vocal into something really soothing. “All I Ever Wanted Was You” keeps it simple and accessible, with familiar sound design and chords, but it’s all the better for it. No reason to reinvent the wheel when you’re working with something good. This is from Blimp’s latest EP, Casio. You can grab that on bandcamp or find it for streaming, but the artist has generously offered the mp3 here too.

Blimp – “All I Ever Wanted Was You” (mp3)

Last but not least is a pair of tracks from Pheonix, AZ-based Paternal (real name Benjamin Soto). Soto mentions in his submission that he sources all his samples from local musicians, and overall seems super focused on building queer community; lovely vibes all around from this one. Both tracks have a sweet almost-naive sincerity, which I think tracks with the energy Soto presents. But I’m equally charmed by the stylistic references. When I occasionally post harder wub/bass-heavy songs these days, I’ll sometimes describe them as throwbacks to Palms Out’s glory days, but these tracks both remind me that we were also something of a minor fixture at the back edge of electroclash (and what bloggers of the time lazily referred to as “indie dance”). Both of the songs Soto sent me–one older original and a remix he did for Tempe-based duo Bogan Via–have that spirit. I can picture these both playing really well in the days when we were all clamoring for new material from likes of Hot Chip, Fischerspooner, Ladytron, CSS, and Peaches. I’m glad to hear that energy is still being mined. Both of these are available to stream, but Paternal was nice enough to send me the mp3s to post here.

Paternal – “Everything” (mp3)
Bogan Via – “Everything’s OK” (Paternal Remix) (mp3)

Brilliantly precise and frenetic 140 submission from Berlin-based Valfi. This is harder than most music I cover these days, but I imagine some long-time readers will particularly appreciate it as a good example of how the sounds I used to focus on can be masterfully updated for a new generation. Besides, who can resist those microtonal balkan melodies? Also, as an extra bonus is another track from Valfi that I found on his soundcloud–this one more of a contemplative acidic IDM trip (but still with those great mictrotonal melodies he’s clearly really into crafting). Both tunes are out for streaming, or on bandcamp via Istanbul-based label Bounce.

Valfi – “Bauns!” (sc)

Valfi – “Deep Yearning” (sc)

Another wild submission, for what’s shaping up to be a sort of atypical edition of this feature. This is from Derriziel Pierce, an American artist I can’t find much information about online. This track, as well as every other on the album Metagod revolves around a heavily manipulated vocal that sounds as if it may be Turkic throat singing (or at least very clearly referential of it). The whole album may just have been inspired by Dune, but it all feels like an attempt to summon some sort of nightmare spirit from beneath the steppes. No bandcamp for this, but the artist was kind enough to let me upload the mp3 here–it’s also out for streaming all over.

Derriziel Pierce – “PlanetEaters” (mp3)

Finally, another one from left field (at least for me lately), by an enigmatic Brazilian artist named Garum Trophex. This is track is so clean and straightforward in its references and structure that it almost borders on progressive techno, but I couldn’t help but find myself captured by it. It may not be my usual speed, but it’s hard to deny how well this is put together, or how well this would work on a lot of floors. True to the artist’s apparent arcane streak, in the few weeks since this was sent to me, the track (and the whole album on which it was released) has been scrubbed from the internet. Nonetheless, the artist sent me the mp3 asking me to post it, so I’m gladly sharing it with you all now. So, no bandcamp or streaming; as far as I can tell, this post will be the only remnant of the work remaining.

Garum Trophex – “Synapsis Sporata” (mp3)

Two satisfying submissions from Zurich’s schutz und rettung (real name Rachid Freudemann), a pseudonym that literally translates to “protection and rescue” — but which is a term used for emergency services, so would more accurately be translated as something like “search and rescue.” I don’t know much about the artist, but the music is as warm as it is taut. “unterland” evokes the qualities of a Caribou b-side; energetic playful syncopation bathed in candlelight. “dumBo Centrale” strikes some of the same notes — but with a glittery and flourishing melodic quality, and a stiffer rhythm reminiscent of something AG Cook might program. No bandcamp for this record unfortunately, but it’s streaming everywhere, and Freudemann was kind enough to let me share with you the mp3s of the songs.

schutz und rettung – “unterland” (mp3)
schutz und rettung – “dumBo Centrale” (mp3)

Ambitious and compelling ambient experimentation from Italian duo Orange and Mountains (Edoardo De Din and Lorenzo Pesci). Written and produced in the Dolomites, this is a bit of an outlier on their new album Pareti, most of which is somewhat edgier, and closer to post-rock. “Via Appia Antica” instead feels like it could be an illustration of the trek up Marmolada; a slow, shuffling initial ascent supported by the twang of dynamic rope, followed by a laborious push through high altitudes, ultimately leading to ecstatic transcendence as the summit is finally reached. Pareti is out now for streaming and on bandcamp.

Orange and Mountains – “Via Appia Antica” (bc)

Last but certainly not least is a brilliant tune from Finnish Planum Collective, comprising producers Recue and Tuune Pauler, and brass player Aki Himanen. This is their first song as a trio — a pristine piece of electronica that manages to marry sharp and busy drum programming with layer after layer of textured enveloping atmosphere, without ever running out of enough headroom for Himanen’s brass to float away. Really beautifully executed stuff, I’m eager to hear more. Out now for streaming or on bandcamp.

Planum Collective (Recue, Aki Himanen, Tuune Pauler) – “Loess” (bc)

Delightfully chonky tune submitted by Australia’s Leotrix, out now on Gud Vibrations. Sludge and euphoria all mixed up. No bandcamp unfortunately, but out for streaming all over.

Leotrix – “Dub for Moving On” (sc)

Two elegant and atmospheric pieces submitted recently by Icelandic artist, skurken (real name Jóhann Ástuson). It’s a cliche to say that Iceland itself inspires this sort of halcyon and serene electronica, but listening to these, it’s kind of hard not to imagine yourself 500 miles away from the rest of civilization lying on volcanic earth staring up at a sky-wide pale green and pink auroral display. Grab these on bandcamp as part of skurken’s latest full length Nótt, out earlier this year on Touched Music.

skurken – “Móatún 7” (bc)

skurken – “Monstrum Nox” (bc)

Last up is a track that evokes the Palms Out of yesteryear. A collaboration between Australian Hydraulix and American Chef Boyarbeatz, this is classic 140, full of sharpened wubs, familiar break fills, and skittering steppy drums. Can’t be too mad at a tried and true formula when it’s properly executed. I don’t know about you, but original or not, this kind of thing can still put a nice big smile on my face. No bandcamp for this, but out for steaming all over.

Hydraulix & Chef Boyarbeatz – “Rudeboi” (sc)

Aren’t we all looking for love? A constant ringing in my ear lately has been that Jungian idea that loving someone else is easy, but loving yourself is as painful as gripping a red-hot iron. Loving someone else is an escape, but no matter how hard we try to avoid it, we eventually must return to ourselves.

I’ve written about Melbourne-based re:abel (real name Ryan Gasparini) a couple of times in the past. He sent over this bouncy lil’ roller the other day, and it’s a gem. Not overly complicated, but super infectious. Consistent with the subject matter, a brief escape to permit a little relief from the process of individuation and self actualization. No bandcamp for this one, I’m afraid, but the artist has been kind enough to let me share the mp3. Also available for streaming all over.

re:abel – “LFL” (mp3)

After a long summer vacation, I returned to this record in my inbox, sent over by an artist named To the Tide, who also makes music as Silk Static, based in Vancouver, BC. According to the artist, Sleepless Sunrise is meant to reflect those sweet mornings after a night too exciting to consciously close. Seeing the sun rise on those mornings is probably among the last swells in a series of heart gushing or positively delirious moments. It might have been the euphoria of the rave; or that intuitive bond between friends that bordered on the telepathic, keeping them rapt all night long; or just the buzz and unstoppable flutter of a new crush. But the dawn comes nonetheless, bittersweet as it might be.

Sleepless Sunrise is without doubt a romantic record, from the deeply tender and brittle closer “Flourish,” which is my favorite of the six, to the lumbering optimism of “Cathartic Koto” and traipsing serenity of “Thoughts Unclouded.” But as much as this may be a record primarily concerned with capturing the warmheartedness of a morning following a night of human connection, it could probably equally serve as a comfort for those who’ve been up all night for the opposite reasons. It could be a gentle reminder that even those hypomanic lonely nights anxiously flitting from one distraction to another can end in a nourishing cleanse of light and quiet.

Sleepless Sunrise is out now on bandcamp, or for streaming.

To the Tide – “Flourish” (sc)

First up today is this pair of strong submissions from Her Waveform, an artist from Naarm (Melbourne), Australia. Both of these are from an upcoming album, due later this year, all of which is built largely from improvised stereo track recordings with no editing after the fact. The first is a cut of gritty propulsive abstract modular techno, where the second tends towards the dreamy and transcendent side of midtempo broken beat and glitch hop. You can grab both of these on bandcamp or stream them wherever you tend to do that sort of thing.

Her Waveform – “Study” (sc)

Her Waveform – “Plictisit” (bc)

Next up is a heavenly bit of melancholy throwback euro-dance-pop. A collaboration between Danish artist The Bird (real name Yunus Rosenzweig) and True Blue (Maya Laner), whose earworm single “No Water” became a surprise rinse of mine a few years ago. Notably, Rosenzweig appears to have collaborated with a who’s who of the Danish pop-arthouse scene, and Laner is currently a member of Caroline Polachek’s excellent live band. No bandcamp for this unfortunately, but you can find it on all the streamers, and the artists have generously allowed me to share with you the mp3.

True Blue & The Bird – “Truest of Blues” (mp3)

True Blue – “No Water” (sc)

Last but not least is this energetic roller from Dutch producer not yes, a nod to the ravier side of US breaks. I don’t know anything else about not yes, but this track is a straightforward and effective dancefloor tool, so I can definitely recommend it. You can grab this on bandcamp or for streaming, but not yes has generously provided the mp3 for all the DJs out there interested in taking this for a spin.

not yes – “switchblade knife shit” (mp3)