Ravishing jazz and electronics from the same stumbling, giddy reaches as La Monte Young and Terry Riley, recorded in Texas in 1981 on multi-tracked organ and synths (with tape loops of birds and wind-chimes), and acoustic guitar.
‘My music is designed to enhance deep meditative, or altered states, to allow the listener to personally connect to the Creator of All that exists in the Universe. My music style is to first create a foundation using cyclic, polyrhythmic music, then build several layers of improvised leads and rhythms that allows you to transcend time and space… We have Memories of Past Lives that reverberate in our hearts like Echoes From Ancient Caves.’

An oneiric, melancholic cross between ambient, soundtrack, and audio drama, conjured from recordings made in the middle of a forest in Lithuania, near the Devil Museum in Kaunas.
‘I listened to the door hinge and I recorded the river, with its small islands of ice brushing up against the banks like a pulse.’

The legendary Library album by Sandro Brugnolini and Stefano Torossi, undercover in 1975 for contractual reasons.
Bad-ass headz vibes — madly sampledelic, super-funky, jazzy and widescreen — with the genies of Herbie, Barry White, Isaac Hayes and the Mizells, all in the mix.

‘A kind of musical road movie, shifting gears through time, space, and reverie, with an itinerary and cast of characters looming in and out of focus. Post-punk chanson with an ear for micro-tonality. The balance of mutant music-boxes and dewy miniatures recalls otherworldly hits from Gareth Williams’ Flaming Tunes, The Residents, and the catchier corners of the Lovely Music catalogue.’

Two fabled, previously unreleased soundtracks — hallucinogenic orchestral music for Patrick Chaput, and a waltzing, rhythmic onslaught for Robert Benayoun — complete with an extensive booklet of essays, interviews, secrets and rare images from both films.

Recorded by Jean Michel Jarre in 1972, during his work experience at G.R.M. (Groupe de Recherches Musicales), for a commission to provide sound for public spaces like airports and libraries. Fifteen tracks made with only two synthesizers (EMS VCS3 & Farfisa organ) in an experimental and very minimal style.
‘It was a crazy album, totally homemade, with rhythms that I made in my student room, with a minimum of equipment and at the same time electronic sounds that I stole from the GRM where I went at night after stealing the keys to the studios. It is a pirate record, in every sense of the word, in which we find what I did afterwards.’

‘A wobbly loop of found sound. Almost inaudible speech from an unidentified documentary. Lapping waves of folk guitar created at the edges of the player’s ability. A haunted melodica. Mumbled vocals that reinvent the singer’s uncertainties as a deliciously glum pose. Layer these up in the recording software of your choice. Labour in a back bedroom overlooking the railway line to summon ghosts.
‘Spirits arrive from West Yorkshire, from Glasgow and Dunedin, from the suburban Midwest. Rising from squats and university accommodation past, from damp rooms filled with old paperbacks, stale hash smoke and abandoned mugs of tea.
‘Even as you listen to this collection of home recordings, made over the last few years by South London duo Jemima, these ghosts crowd around. Born in the Seventies to chase the tape experiments and gentle strumming of the Sixties they crane their necks and edge closer to the laptop. When something this perfect comes along, even the most tranquillised must stir their stumps.
‘It’s lonely music created around a wine bottle with a candle in it, made too late to appear via Xpressway or Cordelia. Don’t imagine though, that it has no home in the now. These spectres remain close because they know they are still wanted. We need them as much as they need us.
‘This spell-binding LP is a window onto a half-lit world on a deeper plane of consciousness.’

Spectral, nostalgic, highly evocative, sometimes-desolate reflections — alone on the piano, and together with saxophonist and flautist Finn Peters —  soaked in Satie, Ravel, and Mompou. Expressive and enchanting, but mournfully distracted, with a tentative, exploratory wonderment which reminds you of Paul Klee’s well-worn idea of a drawing as a line taking a walk. Easy to recommend to those of you who recently enjoyed Mashu Hayasaka’s Etudes LP, on All Night Flight. This is lovely stuff from Jesse, in an unexpected departure from his work with Elmore Judd, the Gorillaz, Nyege Nyege Tapes…

‘Joanna Brouk’s most ambitious recording, Sounds of the Sea is a concept album full of mystery and eroticism. A conch shell bookends this journey into the deep, going down and down and down further, never reaching bottom. Drawing inspiration from various legends of mermaids and sailors, Brouk weaves circling flutes, vocals, drones and whale songs to describe a sense of unfathomable longing more clearly than words could ever express. Sounds of the Sea is a hypnotic and profound achievement by one of new age’s greatest composers.’