Duval is a multi-disciplinary artist from South London.

纯音乐是最近一些年的音乐喜爱 和尝试 我自己喜欢一些古典音色和当代多主题在一个空间的和谐进行， 在简单的感知中用多视角体会情感和理解的多面性。 但是不破坏和谐的可能。

A new reissue of Arca’s 25-minute mixtape from 2013 highlights its prophetic, trailblazing qualities. It remains an unfathomably skillful and multi-layered piece of music.

Wolf + Lamb are releasing a free EP via digital download today, featuring six edits by young label mainstay Nicolas Jaar.
The Brooklyn imprint's trademark edits have gotten a lot buzz here on RA recently, mostly due to a contentious review and the somewhat epic forum thread that followed. Along with labelmates like Soul Clap, Jamie Jones and Lee Foss, Jaar has a distinctive way of tinkering with well known tunes, as showcased in his eclectic RA podcast (which debuted some of the tracks featured here). Behind these slightly altered titles lie reworks of New Order, The Grateful Dead and one of house music's most popular edit subjects, Nina Simone. This one's worth a listen whatever your stance on the aforementioned debate, as it marks a talented new artist's first foray into the world of edits. And it is free, after all.

粉丝整理的厄玛 (2019) 电影原声配乐。

Telas (Veils) is multiple things at once. It's a visual terrain created by artist Somnath Bhatt. It's a record by Nicolás Jaar, with key contributions from Milena Punzi (cello), Susanna Gonzo (voice), Anna Ippolito & Marzio Zorio (instrument makers), and Heba Kadry (mastering). It's a digital terrain created by Abeera Kamran where the sounds and illustrations of Telas live in their primordial states. The site was imagined by Abeera, Somnath and Nicolás as a panspermic terrain where no matter -whether existing in thought, physical form or other- has a solid or unmovable origin.
Multiple parts of the music were first played during two shows at The Kitchen in NYC in the fall of 2017, alongside performances by Africanus Okokon and Patrick Higgins. (
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Telas is Nicolás Jaar's 6th full length album, and follows Cenizas from earlier this year.
Tracklist:
Telahora
Telencima
Telahumo
Telallás
Telas is out on July 17th on Other People. The physical edition of the album will be handled by Mana Records

重塑雕像的权利全新单曲发布 全国巡演启动在即！

新春伊始，举国欢腾的气氛犹弥漫空中，沉寂近八年的重塑雕像的权利则以一首冷硬中律动十足、颇为电气化的单曲《AT MOSP HERE》，重新唤醒大家节后“油腻”的双耳。

距上一张录音室专辑《WATCH OUT! CLIMATE HAS CHANGED, FAT MUM RISES…》已时隔八年，此曲劲猛的《AT MOSP HERE》作为新专辑《BEFORE THE APPLAUSE》的首支先行单曲，在乐迷们殷切的期盼中，带给众人不一样的惊喜。作为推动国内后朋克浪潮的旗手乐队，重塑雕像的权利一直与“后朋克”三个字密不可分，而暌违八年后，“重塑”带回给我们的新作，却以显著的电气化音色和不断循环的采样昭示着：如今的“重塑”早已不甘于头顶着“中国最好的后朋克乐队之一”的光环，正如同乐队的名字一般，他们始终在音乐的世界中探索遨游，以颇具实验的精神不断“重塑”着自己。

《AT MOSP HERE》——atmosphere，别误会，这首歌诞生于五年前，彼时的空气问题还未如此引人注目，相反，在跳跃激猛的乐曲中，包裹着一个基于现实的黑暗寓言。失语”是其关键词，至于其他，正如歌词所言：“I won’t tell you anything”。因为正如同抽象的单曲封面一般，“重塑”的歌曲中包含着许多引人深思的抽象意象，但同时他们又不希望歌迷们过于专注地去解读歌词，相比于乐队此前专辑中强烈的情感指向，这一次，“重塑”以强硬、直接的线条和色彩抽象隐晦地释放着他们的情绪，留给不断循环着这首单曲抖动着双腿的我们更加开放而无尽的遐想。

不断的loop、合成器贝斯、电气化的音色，这些令老乐迷瞠目结舌的转变，并非预示着“重塑”要彻底潜入时下兴盛的电子乐大潮中。恰恰相反，包裹着电气外衣的《AT MOSP HERE》依旧扎根于摇滚乐，贯穿始终的扎实鼓点因鼓手黄锦拳拳到肉的敲击带来了电鼓所不具的温度，而吉他和铃鼓的加入在丰富了声音层次的同时，也将“重塑”一贯的冷硬灰暗融入其中，随着跳动的节拍灌入听者脑髓，在黑暗中撞击出怪诞的火花。

Kalabrese is a curious tastemaker and bold musical force that dares to tread the murky waters between indie and electronica, playfully emphasising vocals on song based productions and presenting an album that pushes the limits and portrays dance music in a peculiar and natural way. Inspired by blues, funk, and all those beautiful dancers and tragic heroes of the night, ,Independent Dancer’ is laced with curiosity and fever inducing productions

Emerging electro wunderkid Breakbot crafts party tunes. Big ones. Following in the footsteps of French electro duo Justice, Parisian Thibaut Berland aka Breakbot has mastered the art of melting together all the best elements of dance, electro and hip hop with skill and precision. And a laptop. Born in 1981, Thibaut was immersed in the sights and sounds of the subsequent decade, and remained appropriately pulled between his love of animation graphics/comics, and music. He chose neither one clear path, nor another. Possessing a degree in computer graphics, and having created his first animation short film co-directed with two friends, Thibaut now makes music videos, commercials and such. By day. By night however, he cooks up choice cut electronic music, experimenting with beats, layers, keyboards, vocals, and Daft Punk-esque get-yo-funk-on basslines.

Park Hye Jin’s 2018 debut EP, If U Want It, knit together sleek, understated house and brusque hip-hop to great effect. She sang and rapped in both English and her native Korean, throwing out jabbing, chanted phrases in blasé monotone over stubby keyboard loops and no-frills drum programming. Songs like “ABC” and “I Don’t Care” served to demonstrate how much a gifted producer can accomplish with very few ingredients.
Hye Jin was a previously unknown, YouTube-tutorial-taught artist releasing music independently. But her hip-house merger — a combination that has also boosted producer-DJs like Galcher Lustwerk in recent years — quickly earned her fans; three of Hye Jin’s songs now have more than a million streams on Spotify, a sign that her music might be able to reach beyond an underground club audience.
On Tuesday, she released her first new solo single since 2018: “Like This,” which sounds like an army of wind chimes on a shuffling, double-time march. “This lead single has no English lyrics in it at all,” says Ashley Yun, a project manager at Hye Jin’s label, the electronic-focused Ninja Tune. “It’ll be a really good benchmark for how ready society is to hear music that isn’t in English. That prospect is really exciting.” “Like This” precedes Hye Jin’s second EP, How Can I, due out next month.
She taught herself to produce on Ableton, working on the songs that became If U Want It alone at home. “My producing was fucking baby skills,” she says. But she came up with a few songs that she thought displayed variety. “‘ABC’ was more poppy; ‘If U Want It’ was more house, ‘Close Eyes’ was more similar to techno, ‘Call Me’ was ’cause I like hip-hop.” “I Don’t Care” was her crown jewel, a carefully layered track that blooms into a dance-floor missile.
“The way that she sings and raps sounds so accessible, even for people who aren’t Korean,” Yun says. “I am Korean, so I found that extra intriguing. I couldn’t get enough of it when it first came out.”
Yun was not alone. Hye Jin’s music was played by Imran Ahmed, the former A&R for XL Recordings who now has a label with AWAL, on his monthly NTS radio show; her songs briefly popped up on Pollen, a Spotify editorial playlist with an active following. Hye Jin moved quickly to transform that buzz into something more solid by playing numerous gigs around the world.
She was so in demand that when Yun tried to book the producer for a Ninja Tune event last year, there wasn’t any room on her schedule. But the two stayed in contact, and Yun helped spearhead Hye Jin’s signing earlier this year. Hye Jin fits next to labelmates and fellow producer-DJs like Bicep and Floating Points — acts who have managed to win over both committed electronic-music fans and more casual streamers who may only make room for one or two club-wreckers on their playlists.
Hye Jin’s rapid ascent didn’t come without issues. She has been forced to part ways with two managers, firing the second one in January due to the way he handled her finances. “I don’t have money from my first EP,” she claims.
The other challenge stemmed from Hye Jin’s brutal touring schedule. “Tour, tour, tour, tour — it’s not good for me every week,” she explains. “The last place I played I remember [feeling], ‘I can’t play well. I’m fucking exhausted.’ ” Much of her new EP was written on the road “in airports, airplanes, trains, taxis,” a necessary side effect of being a sought-after performer.
But Hye Jin remains cheerfully committed to stardom — “I’m gonna be fuckin’ famous,” she promises — and buoyant about the prospects of How Can I. “When my new EP is released,” she says, “there’s new shit coming to me.”