Night School Vinyl, CD & Tape 19 Items

Sleep Now Forever is the second and final album released by Sorrow, the post-Strawberry Switchblade group fronted
by singer Rose McDowall. Originally released in 1999 and long since deleted it is a cornucopia of pastoral, elegiac folk
music, swirling atmospherics, hymnal compositions and above it all the alternating towering and fragile vocal
performances of McDowall. Recorded in the late 90s with fellow band member and co-songwriter Robert Lee, Sleep
Now Forever is the definitive statement by the now defunct group and Rose McDowall’s most complete long-form work
to date.
Released through the group’s own Piski Disk Records, Sleep Now Forever was distributed by World Serpent which
struggled through the early 2000s with financial woes, eventually folding due to bankruptcy in 2004. Due to the company’s
troubles, Sleep Now Forever was never distributed widely and was a victim of the company’s failure. Released on CD only,
original copies are now rare and only traded on second hand channels. Remastered by Mikey Young for a limited vinyl release,
Sleep Now Forever will be released on April 20th on double vinyl format, with one side an exclusive etching by Glasgow artist
Holly Allan.
Despite its rarity, Sleep Now Forever enjoys a firm cult following. The album’s textures are expansive, lush, deliciously detailed
and celestial. Recorded in home study Velvet Hole by Rose McDowall and then-husband Robert Lee, the album enlists an
array of players from the underground Neo-folk / industrial scene: Nigel McKernaghan (Uilleann pipes, Whistles), Susan
Franknel (Bassoon), John Contreras (Cello) and Lawrence Frankel (Oboe, Cor Anglais). The eleven songs here revolve
around McDowall’s instantly recognisable voice. Brought up singing in the Catholic Church, McDowall’s vocals are impeccable
and angelic, particularly on tracks like Turn Off The Light where her experiences with religion are canted over soaring oboe
and guitar backing. By far the most evolved and realised version of Sorrow’s vision, it feels somewhat criminal that music this
beautiful could be lost to time until now.
McDowall’s lyrics throughout Sleep Now Forever deal frankly with mental health, depression, altered states, death and
redemption. Wave upon wave of harmony drench each song, McDowal’s vocal multi-tracked and imperious. Opener Soldier
benefits from Robert Lee’s use of the studio as instrument, summoning forth a lilting group performance of sparkling guitar and
percussion that recalls the Velvet Underground. Mikey Love’s master treats the compositions to brand new frequency
dynamics and space. Harmonium and string drones form the counter to McDowall’s vocal on Love Dies, a slow, lurching
lament that feels transcendent. On Haunting, the arrangement is orchestral and aching, bleeding into Fear Becomes You, with
chord and harmony structure that recalls the baroque sixties pop of West Coast Pop Experimental Art Band or the 60s
psychedelic folk movement. A towering, beautiful statement, this elegy for times lost and moonlit-illumination is finally
resurfacing from the darkness.
Sleep Now Forever is being released on 2LP on April 20th, 2024. Limited to 500.

Since her re-discovery in 2013 via cult favourite The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits, The Space Lady’s mission of galactic
peace and celestial harmony has grown into a world-wide underground phenomenon. Recorded in 1990, The Space
Lady’s original repertoire is a parallel universe greatest hits: songs familiar are transmogrified into shimmering bliss
while new compositions amplify the message. The Space Lady’s Other Hits, released on April 20th for Record Store Day
2024, constitutes the songs recorded by Susan “The Space Lady” Dietrich Schneider as part of that repertoire that
never made the original Greatest Hits, save for a limited bonus CD on the first CD pressing. Remastered by Mikey Love
for vinyl, The Space Lady’s Other Hits completes the picture.

The Space Lady began her odyssey on the streets of Boston in the late 70s, then San Francisco ten years later, playing
versions of contemporary pop music with an accordion and dressed flamboyantly. Following the theft and destruction of her
accordion , The Space Lady invested in a then-new Casio keyboard, complete with a phase shifter, delay pedal and headset
mic, birthing an otherworldly new dimension to popular song that has captured the imaginations of the underground and its
leading exponents ever since.

The Space Lady’s Other Hits were recorded as they were played on the street, live, one-take, with Schneider playing, singing
and simultaneously manipulating the various effects. Beginning with Elvis Presley’s iconic All Shook Up, the walking bassline
underpinning the vocal, phasing in and out of this dimension, providing a fragile, extraterrestrial shadow to Presley’s original
lust-driven performance. Slapback Boomerang is an original composition, written by Schneider’s then-husband Joel Dunsany
a Rock ’n’ Roll pounder that could have been performed by The Cramps, its tale of relationship turmoil changed into a
meditation on the nature of echo and feedback. There are moments where Schneider performs vocal caesuras, swimming in
delay and phase for the pleasure of it, a pantomime drama performance that rings out. Closing Side B, Puttin’ On The Ritz is
Irving Berlin’s 20s smash hit manipulated into a sombre ballad with its latent class struggle narrative brought to the fore.

A staple of The Space Lady’s performances to this day, Golden Earring’s 70s global hit Radar Love retains something of the
original’s driving gallop but in The Space Lady’s telling it is shorn of the tight-trousered, taut machismo. The Space Lady coos
and reaches up into the heavens away from the road, the phaser waves drenching the composition with transcendence.
Schneider’s falsetto performances in the choruses do nothing but lift the spirits ever-arching upwards. Next, The Space Lady
emasculated Jim Morrison’s performance in The Doors’ 20th Century Fox. Faithfully playing Ray Manzarek’s keyboard parts on
her Casio, Schneider disintegrates Morrison’s lust into waves of echo and delay, creating a Dubbed out version of the song,
sounding eroded and decayed in all its ghostly glory. Pioneering Rock ’n’ Roll outfit Pete & The Pirates’ 1960 hot Shakin’ All
Over, something of a response to Elvis’ All Shook Up, is blown out in warm fuzz and the celestial hug of The Space Lady’s
spirit.

The Space Lady’s Other Hits is released on April 20th 2024 on clear vinyl 12”, limited to 500.

Slovak-Hungarian musician Adela Mede explores the interplay between voice and technology with field recordings. She sings in three languages (Slovak, Hungarian and English). Intimate ambient utterances with themes of spiritual growth accompanied by experimental electronics with a wide scope of influences; from minimalism to folklore. Initially released in early 2022 to universal acclaim on digital and cassette, Night School is extremely excited to share Szabadság on vinyl. Mastered by Rupert Clervaux for vinyl, the clearer format teases out new nuances in the music, revealing a physicality and permanence to Mede’s first masterwork. "Szabadság is a navigation. This debut by Adela Mede, recorded in her family home on the Slovakian border with Hungary, searches through the personal, familial, cultural, folkloric and geographic of her past and present. Examining both the vulnerability and determination of her voice - as it leaves the lips, raw, and in the ways it can be transformed with digital processing - the embodied memories of language, of utterance, are explored. Airy, open sound worlds and tentative strings of improvised naked vocal transform themselves into insistent repetition. Fizzing, sparkling electronics are set against the beautiful grainy depth of field recordings. The locations, these places, are found and lost - home is found and lost - in a dance of fragmented vocal harmonies. Three languages (English, Hungarian, Slovak) weave a song of spring, nature, forgiveness, togetherness and rebirth.” – words by Lisa Busby “Ostensibly speaking, Szabadság, the debut album from Adela Mede, is an avant-garde/experimental composition record with a deep interest in voice. Peel back the layers, and it’s also an art-pop record that reaches for the stars.” - Dazed “The vocals on Szabadság navigate between three languages: Hungarian, Slovak, and English. But the melancholy inflexion in her voice transcends meanings, words, and linguistic systems across any borders.” - The Quietus “It’s an exploration of what it means to find home across different countries, cities and languages, revelling in the dis/comfort of a life stretched across borders” - The Wire

Transcendentally beautiful, The Space Lady's music is returning to Earth. Transmitting messages of peace and harmony, The Space Lady began her odyssey on the streets of Boston in the late 70s, then San Francisco ten years later, playing versions of contemporary pop music with an accordion and dressed flamboyantly. Following the theft and destruction of her accordion , The Space Lady invested in a then-new Casio keyboard, complete with a phase shifter and headset mic, birthing an otherworldly new dimension to popular song that has captured the imaginations of the underground and its leading exponents ever since. The legend of The Space Lady has continued to grow in the 21st century. Following inclusions on compilations by John Maus, Erol Alkan and Irwin Chusid's "Songs In The Key of Z," the benevolent spectre of The Space Lady inspired humanity from afar in the mists of time and obscurity. 2013 sees the first official release of The Space Lady's music following a hand-dubbed cassette and CD in the early 90s. These recordings were recorded in 1990 for that hand-made release and have now been remastered by Brian Pyle (Ensemble Economique).

From out of nowhere - if nowhere is the febrile, warped and twilit imagination of Julia McFarlane - comes Whoopee, the second album by J.McFarlane’s Reality Guest. Whoopee is an esoteric, kaleidoscopic movie in music form directed by Julia McFarlane and co-conspirator Thomas Kernot. Full of life, breakbeats and smokey vignettes on the fragile nature of interpersonal relationships, Whoopee is a stylistic evolution from everything McFarlane has done before. Surreal, beautiful in parts and replete with the aching wisdom McFarlane’s songwriting has always promised, this Reality Guest pulls back the curtain on a whole scene of naked truth. Recorded in Melbourne in bursts since the release of 2019’s Ta Da, Whoopee features a new sound palette and band member in Kernot. The duo dive deep into electronic pop tropes, mining digital synths, samples, breakbeats and deep bass grooves, largely dispensing with live instrumentation. If Ta Da took twists and turns with your expectations, offering a Dada-ist, monochromatic take on pop music, Whoopee is McFarlane’s subterranean love-sick pinks, reds, greens, purples and blues. Becoming something of a tradition, the album starts with an instrumental intro pilfered from a 90s’ spy film or cinema intro music, puffing up the listener for the heart-squeezing bathos of Full Stops. Over a bleary backdrop of walking bass lines, jazz- inflected keys and smoked-out atmosphere, McFarlane’s poetry narrates the fragile state of a relationship: “You put a full stop where I thought there’d be a comma, I want the story to continue even with all the drama.” Over a palpable pain, the narrator is revelling in the drama of a relationship, addicted to tumult and heightened emotion. On Sensory, a space age bachelor lounge pad ballad, the converse state of the previous song is explored, here the narrator is battling the numbness of being out of the drama, stuck in a sensory-deprivation tank, anaesthesized and battling to emerge from the fog. Wrong Planet explores an otherworldly pop music, hewing a bright hook out of a sense of confusion. A bona-fide, sing-along chorus bursts out of the narrator musing on the absurdity of existing in this reality. It speaks of one of Julia McFarlane’s main talents, her knack of inspecting human relationships and states with a clear perspective, like an alien visiting Earth and realising everything we are is really, really strange. Whoopee is both more accessible than previous Reality Guest work and somehow more obfuscated. Where the production on Ta Da was dry, sharp and strange, this Reality Guest is blurred, almost smeared with the effluvium of 90s+00s culture and existence. Through it all, it’s hard to deny the undeniable pull of the songs. Precious Boy carries on the lounge theme with a whole sampler of cut up sounds fading in and out of the haze as McFarlane’s voice is right up to the speaker cooing and free- associating, maybe in love or maybe in confusion... maybe they’re the same thing? Sometimes the listener is invited to just bathe in the tone of the vocal, as on Apocalypse, where the texture and timbre of the vocal is luxurious, bathing in piano tinkles and double bass throb. On lead single Slinky, a cut up beat reminiscent of Washingtonian Go-Go drum patterns leads, the song slipping through your fingers, elusive and presenting sound as pure pleasure. Closer Caviar jumps back into the broken breakbeats of a surreal funk, fuelled by the sensory pleasure of the music, a hedonistic whirl in rapture, the narrator now living life to the fullest in all its giddy heights and deep troughs. This is the album’s main character fully-actualised and in the terrible, beautiful moment.

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar
work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a
hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal
style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal
performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration
and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little
else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding,
the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the
imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat
floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and
Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s
third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world
reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether
with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new
perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened
mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing
smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly
at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian
60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by
Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between
people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

Dedicated 21st Century polymath Kay Logan continues to expand her soundworld in every direction at once with her Helena Celle alias. A maximalist internal landscape of broken Jungle patterns, distorted synths and heavily warped instrumentation bent out of cognisance, »If You Can’t Handle You At Your Worst, Then I Don’t Deserve Me At My Best« is Logan’s most danceable, most fun and most gloriously congealed record to date.

Conceived in part as a response to her 2016 debut release »If I Can’t Handle Me At My Best, You Don’t Deserve You At Your Worst,« 2023’s update employs similar principles (degrading technology, the joy of chance, an outsider’s gaze onto the dance floor, an embracing of the occult) to delirious effect. If »I Can’t Handle« was lo fi and fragile in its technoid recasting of dance music, here Logan’s confidence allows a frantic playfulness that retains the spontaneity of all her output. It’s the work of a creative spirit revelling in the possibilities of sound, rhythm, texture and pattern.

Helena Celle’s music opens up psychic space in front of the listener and invites them in. In this world, sounds and tropes once recognisable are rendered fractal, spectral and continually melting in and out of recognition. Simply put, Helena Celle might be detouring Drum & Bass, Techno and Breakbeat with a prankster’s grin but the result is pure ecstasy crushed into a part of the listener’s consciousness hitherto untroubled.

Since her 2016 debut, Logan has released music as Time Binding Ensemble, Otherworld, in groups Anxiety and Herbert Powell and myriad variations on the Helena Celle moniker. This album is a riposte to her debut and updates its principles. Joyful, degraded Jungle breaks, Cyberpunk synth meltdown, noise solos, true head music, like the furthest Aphex Twin being deep friend in a Glasgow backwater.

This album is about having to focus our collective energies on the small things around that we can control to find joy. A distraction from the the larger systemic problems that feel so overwhelming and are so very out of our collective hands... for now...” Love As Projection is the new album by Frankie Rose, her fifth studio LP and second for Night School following the reissue of her interpretation of The Cure’s Seventeen Seconds. Frankie Rose has forged an enviable musical legacy, from playing with bands like Crystal Stilts and The Vivian Girls but on Love As Projection she takes a bold step into electronic pop production. A sumptuous recorded statement, it dances in ecstasy and broods on the tumult of the western world’s decay in equal proportion. At the heart of the album is glowing, confident songwriting, resplendent in hooks and choruses but still touched with an optimism undimmed. After spending nearly two decades establishing herself across New York and Los Angeles independent music circles, Rose re-emerges after six years with a fresh form, aesthetic, and ethos. Celebrated over the years for her expansive approach to songwriting, lush atmospherics, and transcendent vocal melodies and harmonies, Love As Projection is a reintroduction of her established style through the lens of contemporary electronic pop. Recorded with producer Brandt Gassman and mixed with long-term collaborator Jorge Elbrecht this is the album Frankie Rose has been building up to her entire career. More than a rebirth, a refinement, a resurgence, Love As Projection boasts a widescreen scope: a long- form project heavily considered for half of a decade, culminating in the most personal and accessible collection of art-pop that Frankie has ever written. When Rose aims for the pop jugular as in first lead track Anything, the result is unstoppable. A majestic pop song built for radio, it erupts into an irresistible chorus that marries classic epic 80s American pop with the cult effervescence of Strawberry Switchblade “It’s like a prom scene in a John Hughes movie. It’s a hopeful song about abandoning fear even if the world is quite literally on fire.. In the end, at least we have each other,” says Rose. Sixteen Ways further boasts a propulsive, massive chorus, though tempered by a cynicism built in global post-truth, global malaise. “It’s about getting your hopes up, but simultaneously making lists in your head about how it will never work out in your favour.” The big anthems don’t let up there. On DOA some massive, rolling drums lathered in big mid-80s gated reverb dovetail with a syncopated baseline for the ages as Rose’s vocal sails effortlessly above. The effect isn’t unlike ethereal vocalists Clannad circa Howard’s Way or Enya jamming with Simple Minds in their stadium-conquering heyday. Rose tempers the adrenalin with heart-tugging bittersweet tones and there are plenty of them. Sleeping Night And Day takes its time with an off-the-cuff chorus, swirling around in harmony and chorus-bass. Saltwater Girl picks up the balladeering baton with another nod to album track-mode Switchblade, deep space opening up in the mid-tempo drum track and soupy, digital atmospherics. Album closer Song For A Horse, reimagines modern Pop production a-la-PC Music but shorn of the meta-atmosphere. Pianos, swelling synths, minor keys cut through with major. These moments, also seen in Feel Light offer ballast to the soaring pop choruses. Moments like these are big oceans of emotion to fall into before being led out by Rose into a bright new day.

6 face-melting gurners for the 21st Century’s, wilted and jilted generation.

Glasgow’s Lady Neptune follows her New Gorbals Gabber cassette E.P. with her debut vinyl release NOZ. Over the course of 23 bloody fisted minutes, Lady Neptune’s – aka Moema Meade - hyper destructed take on Gabber and Happy Hardcore breaks down the genre tropes before rebuilding them as a new pop music. If 2020’s New Gorbals Gabber showed an artist building their own language from fragments of different genres, 2022’s NOZ goes harder into the cyberpunk-ass future and takes no prisoners. Recorded and mixed at Glasgow’s legendary Green Door Studios and mastered by Rashad Becker, here Lady Neptune evolves into a monster.

With the classic weapons of Dutch Gabber – distorted 909 kick drums, bursts of noise and world-eating Rave-O- Matic hoovering synth riffs, Lady Neptune’s 6 tracks constantly threaten to careen off the speaker into the sweatiest, most gibbering, messy corners of the club. The two years since her debut has seen Meade destroying festival dancefloors, training for the full assault that is NOZ. Live performances have seen foam guns, tequila-pistols, neon stage dancers and a full, maxed-out orgy of fast-as-hell BPM, rave music burning up the cones. The experience reaps rewards from the outset on recorded form here. Apocolyps begins with monstrous vocals and the all-consuming kick, pulled back and taut for launch. The arsenal builds; warbling synths and high-pitched synth-strings before dropping into Bald Terror-sized hoovers and stuttering 4/4s. It quickly bleeds into Masterer, with a looped, pitched up vocal intersecting with the synth riff. The aesthetics might be Happy Hardcore but the dynamic feels like a synthetic, evil Nu Metal-influenced Industrial music. Constantly evolving and twisting with its own natural drama, the drop at 2:15 is pure ecstatic release. fusing Meade’s inclination for pop hooks with the first out-and-out 180bpm (ish, who’s counting?) anthemic melter of the E.P., Tell ME has THE big catchy chorus, used sparingly and sung by Meade with angelic devilishness, coming at you in waves of XTC. It’s a repeater.

It’s then massive fists in the air for the ruthless Side B opener WIT. In the Welsh-Brazilian artist’s adopted home of Glasgow it translates directly as What!? Itt makes sense. g. Sharp, weaponised, rhythmic punishment abounds before OH responds. Pitched up vocals and another mid-frequency synth hook wipes the slate clean. Like the best Gabber, the tension and release dynamic is used to full effect by Meade, with the thunderous low end kick -expertly tweaked in the mastering by Rashad Becker – slipping into the ghostly cavern. Industrialized 4/4 and noise-snares propel onwards to be utterly squashed by that bloody synth, stinging and horribly brilliant. Proving her genius for a ridiculous A-n-t-h-e-m, Time 2 Make U Feel Good closes the 23 minutes of ragged, drugged glory with a festival-slamming chorus built from the wreckage. It’s a song that does that thing we all know and love but can’t put our finger on. Sad, happy, tragedy, ecstasy, joy, horror...There’s big, minor chord changes (yes there’s some Chords on this slammer), the kick is submerged in layers of pads and Meade’s actual secret weapon: her vocal and knack for writing a chorus line. In the listener’s mind it’s over before it’s begun, a track destined for the big rewind.

NOZ is a breathless, E-number riddled eternal ecstasy.

Fine Place is a new duo comprising Frankie Rose (Vivian Girls, Crystal Stilts, Dum Dum Girls) and Matthew Hord (Running, Pop. 1280, Brandy). Based in Brooklyn, NYC together they’ve crafted a crystalline full length of nocturnal, electronic pop music that charts a way out the post-global, cyberpunk dystopian environment it was crafted in. Their debut album This New Heaven drenches minimalist song structures in post-industrial washes of six-string delay and gothic post-punk synths. Presiding over it is the most evocative, emotive vocal performance Frankie Rose has committed to tape to date.

Following Hord’s relocation from Chicago, the pair wanted to explore new avenues apart from their respective bands or solo projects. “The sound we were going for was an attempt to capture the dystopian feel of New York during a period of desertion by the wealthy. It was produced in a time-frame saturated in both uncertainty and serenity, and the soundscapes we created felt fitting and almost organic as a response to our surroundings. The title also reflects this in an arguably literal, maybe even satirical way.” Sonically, Fine Place references the pioneering mid-to-late 80s pioneers of icy melodrama The Cure and Cocteau Twins, while reflecting both the individuals’; music trajectories thus far. Modular synthesis triggers rhythm boxes and fluttery arps chirp around clanging 808-patterning as Rose’s reverb-laden vocal layering envelops the remaining headroom. The result is massive; a towering, shadowy music that embraces darkness while offering Rose’s bright vocal as chinks of light in the cracks; the production filling the head space of the beholder with preternatural imagery and emotional resonances that are real but not quite defined.

The title song propels forth out of the fog, scintillating with delayed guitar before the reverb-immersed vocal injects the human drama. The chorus constantly teases a big release but holds back creating a taut, dynamic tension. Cover Blind’s slow march makes full use of Rose’s layered vocal sinking and emerging from Hord’s bank of

synths. Stand out It’s Your House is pure honey pouring from the speaker on a bank of of arps and near-hymnal vocal layering, a syrupy light offering in the mist. It’s an emotive highlight that only increases as the album progresses; Impressions Of Me is the Lynchian ballad that glides onward into the sunset. The album finishes on a choice re-interpretation of the 1989 track The Party Is Over by Belgian group Adult Fantasies, one of the great over-looked ballads of the era given an almost ecclesiastical makeover by Matthew Hord and Frankie Rose in 2021.

“Is the future any brighter? Is the darkness any lighter?

25% of all profits will be donated to sea- watch.org, A non-profit organization that conducts civil search and rescue operations in the Central Mediterranean.

When Molly Nilsson began recording her second album Europa in 2009 the world seemed to be at a turning point and she along with it. In the aftermath of a global financial crash, at the dawn of a new decade, the Stockholm-born, Berlinbased singer was busy moulding her songwriting into an idiocyncratic, personal mythology that would take her to every continent, speaking directly to hearts in every corner of the globe. The first album on her own Dark Skies Association imprint, the first recorded in her home studio The Lighthouse, Europa broke new ground for Molly Nilsson at the time. But also it spoke earnestly to the world about an idealism, an openness and hope that has not dimmed in the 11 years since its release. Europa contains the songs of a young, idealistic songwriter coming to terms with her genius for cutting to the chase, saying it as it is and, most importantly, as it should be. Over 10 years on the artists’ vim and urge for change has only got stronger but here you can see the bright hope begin to dawn. Europa saw Molly Nilsson move away from the minimal primitivism of her debut These Things Take Time and remastered by James Plotkin for it’s 2021 reissue it reveals a growing depth in her songwriting. Opener In The Mood For A Tattoo, with synth overdubs on top of impeccable vocal harmonising, boasts a killer chorus hook before melting into The Revenge Of The Stalker, with its shades of 80s synth pop building layered dynamics out of simplicity. More Certain Than Death is a song of youthful rebellion, even if you didn’t know it at the time, forever searching for a way out of youth while young. Of course now, over a decade since their release, these songs have been canonised in the alternative pop realm like all of Molly Nilsson’s catalogue. The DIY aspect of these recordings may place them firmly in the milieu they first gained popularity – the exploding world of DIY pop, blog-based music discovery and the seemingly endless possibilities of the beginnings of of social media – but Europa’s songs are really made to be sung to and by people, they’re statements of intent, of togetherness and defiance. The album’s title track is a kernel of righteousness, an archetypal Molly Nilsson moment that contains all hope in its fist, which steadily opens outstretched to everyone who listens. Europa was written in 2009 about the ongoing refugee crisis, an open love letter to humanity. “The borders are only lines in the sand, the borders are divided by land (and invented by men.)” Europa praises the idea of people coming together to make things better, to help each other. It’s not about this Europe but the idea of having no borders to imprison people. Think of Europa as an alternate universe, where no one is illegal, but free. It’s heady stuff to sum up in a song but of course Nilsson’s effortless chorus-writing render all these notions and feelings in a few simple words. This is of course her chief talent, whether singing about heartbreak or global financial meltdown and it is in abundance here.

“Is the future any brighter? Is the darkness any lighter?

25% of all profits will be donated to sea- watch.org, A non-profit organization that conducts civil search and rescue operations in the Central Mediterranean.

When Molly Nilsson began recording her second album Europa in 2009 the world seemed to be at a turning point and she along with it. In the aftermath of a global financial crash, at the dawn of a new decade, the Stockholm-born, Berlinbased singer was busy moulding her songwriting into an idiocyncratic, personal mythology that would take her to every continent, speaking directly to hearts in every corner of the globe. The first album on her own Dark Skies Association imprint, the first recorded in her home studio The Lighthouse, Europa broke new ground for Molly Nilsson at the time. But also it spoke earnestly to the world about an idealism, an openness and hope that has not dimmed in the 11 years since its release. Europa contains the songs of a young, idealistic songwriter coming to terms with her genius for cutting to the chase, saying it as it is and, most importantly, as it should be. Over 10 years on the artists’ vim and urge for change has only got stronger but here you can see the bright hope begin to dawn. Europa saw Molly Nilsson move away from the minimal primitivism of her debut These Things Take Time and remastered by James Plotkin for it’s 2021 reissue it reveals a growing depth in her songwriting. Opener In The Mood For A Tattoo, with synth overdubs on top of impeccable vocal harmonising, boasts a killer chorus hook before melting into The Revenge Of The Stalker, with its shades of 80s synth pop building layered dynamics out of simplicity. More Certain Than Death is a song of youthful rebellion, even if you didn’t know it at the time, forever searching for a way out of youth while young. Of course now, over a decade since their release, these songs have been canonised in the alternative pop realm like all of Molly Nilsson’s catalogue. The DIY aspect of these recordings may place them firmly in the milieu they first gained popularity – the exploding world of DIY pop, blog-based music discovery and the seemingly endless possibilities of the beginnings of of social media – but Europa’s songs are really made to be sung to and by people, they’re statements of intent, of togetherness and defiance. The album’s title track is a kernel of righteousness, an archetypal Molly Nilsson moment that contains all hope in its fist, which steadily opens outstretched to everyone who listens. Europa was written in 2009 about the ongoing refugee crisis, an open love letter to humanity. “The borders are only lines in the sand, the borders are divided by land (and invented by men.)” Europa praises the idea of people coming together to make things better, to help each other. It’s not about this Europe but the idea of having no borders to imprison people. Think of Europa as an alternate universe, where no one is illegal, but free. It’s heady stuff to sum up in a song but of course Nilsson’s effortless chorus-writing render all these notions and feelings in a few simple words. This is of course her chief talent, whether singing about heartbreak or global financial meltdown and it is in abundance here.

The fruits of a five year journey into self-discipline and personal discovery, Mara Barenbaum's Group Rhoda uses stark musical practices and analog electronics to evoke imagery and rhythms both atavistic and futuristic. Using the tools of musical simplification-synthesizers, analog effects and drum machines-Group Rhoda's aim is to build a pop music that reaches freedom through discipline. All instrumentation, whether in the studio or on stage, is played live and with no sampling; a completely organic language formed from the roots of synthesis. Out Of Time, Out of Touch is the culmination of a process which began with a self-taught keyboard technique and a desire to learn about the machinations of the tools of pop music and, in turn, the environment in which it is produced. With a grounding in minimal wave and the post-industrial landscape, GR takes surprising detours into tropical rhythm patterns, dubbed-out bass throbs, hypnotic Wurlitzer flourishes and, above all, GR's distinctive, plaintive vocal. The alluring contradiction at the heart of Out Of Time, Out Of Touch is the push of the psychedelic, the hyper-real, the overtly physical and the pull of the artificial, the synthesized, the stark. This contradiction is brought to light continually through-out Out Of Time, Out Of Touch-whether in the classic west coast psychedelic melodic sense played with Suicide's mechanical simplicity, or the industrial rhythms of Throbbing Gristle drenched in a technicolor, sun-blanched imagination. The songs on Out Of Time, Out Of Touch seem to be plucked from a continuum-the throb of the bass and splashing of the drum machines are ongoing in the universe-with GR forming the songs with precision.

Circular patterns morphing through time, loop and ritual form the fabric of Proserpine, the latest work by Leeds-based musician, Teresa Winter. Recorded from a summer to a winter through 2021 and 2022, Proserpine is Winter's most cohesive, focused music to date: confidently revelling in space, fixating on isolated sounds and giving way to satisfying, swirling waves of vocal and electronic buzz. Proserpine is Teresa Winter's debut recording for Glasgow-based label, Night School.

On Proserpine, musical patterns revolve and intersect with each other, transmogrifying the music's narrative. Over-arching themes emerge: continual change, elusiveness. Insubstantiality emerges into concrete reality in the form of recognisable field recordings: the purring of a pet cat, the hum of a live cable. The loops and patterns are sometimes just out of sight, the click and whirl on Child Of Nature is the backdrop to hymnal vocalisations by Winter, who intones spell-like text in conversation with herself. On opener Circles, Winter's vocal is pre-linguistic, detached syllables falling into flowing streams, before Plume's field recordings seem to juxtapose nocturnal and diurnal wildlife. "You said I was a Flower Of The Mountain" sings Winter, as James Joyce's Molly Bloom does but the carpe diem desire in Ulysses is dissipated here, spread out by gauzy, droning organs. Here desire is blown up and out, changed into something undefinable but no less powerful.

Change is at the heart of the album. The Roman goddess Proserpine, herself a reimagined version of the earlier Greek goddess Persephone, is always between: between summer and winter, the land of the living and the underworld, constantly emerging into new states of being. It's a fitting metaphor for Winter's work. Like an Apple feels like it soundtracks this in-between state, long, trailing reverb smudging synth keys and Winter's achingly beautiful vocal performance. The effect is stirring but flitting in and out of perception, sometimes Winter's presence feels of this world, of musical instruments and practises and at others it feels like the music is about to phase into a different plane, a different universe.

While Proserpine references the myths and cults of the classical, pre-Christian era, Winter's restless preoccupation with the mechanics of religion informs the album in other ways. Ritual is present through out, either in the mantra-like vocalisations or even the private rituals we are invited to witness: on Fireworks the listener eave drops into the protagonist's private bonfire. On the stunning Lamento, layers of Choral vocal interlock in celestial patterns that recall catholic mass: it's an overt effect that simulates the ecstasy of religious fervour and also reminds the listener of the use of vocal that runs through Proserpine. Winter's vocals often echo with the euphoria of obliteration, of disintegrating in an awful bliss. It's an effect achieved with finality by the closer New Water as the piece begins with voice before burning up in the atmosphere of elegiac violins and enveloping undertows of whirring synth patterns and ghostly pads. Proserpine is forever turning, changing, always elusive and quietly revelatory.

Dedicated 21st Century polymath KAY Logan continues to expand her soundworld in every direction at once with her Helena Celle alias. A maximalist internal landscape of broken Jungle patterns, distorted synths and heavily warped instrumentation bent out of cognizance, If You Can’t Handle You At Your Worst, Then I Don’t Deserve Me At My Best is Logan’s most danceable, most fun and most gloriously congealed record to date. Conceived in part as a response to her 2016 debut release If I Can’t Handle Me At My Best, You Don’t Deserve You At Your Worst, 2023’s update employs similar principles (degrading technology, the joy of chance, an outsider’s gaze onto the dance floor, an embracing of the occult) to delirious effect. If I Can’t Handle was lo-fi and fragile in its technoid recasting of dance music, here Logan’s confidence allows a frantic playfulness that retains the spontaneity of all her output. It’s the work of a creative spirit reveling in the possibilities of sound, rhythm, texture and pattern. Helena Celle’s music opens up psychic space in front of the listener and invites them in. In this world, sounds and tropes once recognisable are rendered fractal, spectral and continually melting in and out of recognition. Simply put, Helena Celle might be detouring Drum & Bass, Techno and Breakbeat with a prankster’s grin but the result is pure ecstasy crushed into a part of the listener’s consciousness hitherto untroubled