Feet Up, Headphones On.

Cosmic ambient, jazz minimalism meets native ritualism, Indo-Persian blues, loose lithe soulful electronica and soothing noise. Inactivity never sounded so good.

I'm running out of excuses why the newsletter has once again deviated from my intended weekly schedule. I keep thinking that every time I publish one I'll immediately start writing the next, but I’m usually so exhausted with the final push - usually at an ungodly hour, not to mention so relieved to have published it that I feel like I need a “break”, then life takes over and one day I wake up and realise that a few days have passed and I need to get cracking, and as I’m not the quickest writer I immediately feel under pressure again, resulting in writer’s unwillingness.

I’ve seen a few posts on Substack Notes lamenting the demands to feed your subscribers, the constant need to keep waving your arms in the air to get noticed and algorithmically favoured. Well, I can confirm that it’s a thing, and although it’s part and parcel of the “job” it removes much of the joy I get from sharing music.

It’s a cycle I don’t wish to repeat any more, and as there is a seismic life event occurring and big changes on the horizon I really don’t need any more stress - even the good stress like making an effort to share my music finds. So from now on I’ll just be dropping the newsletter when I can, and without stress or shame, which should realistically mean three missives a month, and also that I should be starting with a proper introduction rather than apologies and excuses.

Admittedly my publishing “schedule” wasn’t helped by the fact that I took last weekend off, and headed to the beach with the crew to test out the new sun shade and chuckle and marvel at the little one valiantly coming to terms with the Atlantic waves. Then, as it was windy on the Sunday, we headed north to the Spanish border to check out a picturesque river beach near an old watermill, whilst the Portuguese Communist Party’s women’s group held a well organised rally in a clearing close by. The north of Portugal is a magical place, and that’s before I even start talking about the wine up here. Here’s a link to Marcio Lopez the producer of the tipple in the photo, and one of my favourites.

In other news I gave TSMM’s website a serious makeover this week. I built the new website last year, somewhat foolishly just after the birth of my daughter, so consequently it took me weeks rather than days, but although it was fresher than the old site I’d been bumbling along with, it was somewhat higgledy-piggledy, so this week I feng-shuied it. Check it out.

View from the river bank before it filled with swimmers. - Beach with a cloud covered Spain in the distance. - One of this week's Portuguese tipples..

R&D - I'll Send You A Sign (Ruination)

This album is perfect start of the day music, just as well really as I’m writing about it at 5.45am. Ruination are a cool label from New York who champion artists throwing spanners in the Americana continuum and putting the “alt” into indie pop and rock, but even I was surprised when I hit play on this one, to be met with a meandering new age electroacoustic soundscape.

R&D are Rebecca El-Saleh on harp and Dan Knishkowy, better known for his work as Adeline Hotel, on guitar. The project has its foundation in several months of improvised sessions, the music blossoming from flowing conversations into instrumental explorations of their feelings and, if the vibe is anything to go by, more universal matters.

The free flowing sessions were inspired by some of El-Saleh’s poetry, and with that sort of catalyst, coupled with the fact that the recording was recorded and mixed in two days there is a serious cosmic drift to the album; it seems there’s something to be said for trusting your instincts. The creative symbiosis is real, resulting in a beautiful free flowing ambient transmission, the notes hanging in the air well beyond their usual timespan, creating a wellness feedback loop that the duo obviously revelled in. The instruments variously take turns setting scenes, sometimes intertwining for the greater good, but never losing sight of their higher purpose.

Refreshingly for such a new age aligned project there is also a moment when the clouds roll in, momentarily interrupting the warmth, but let’s face it even Buddhist monks are probably getting a bit angsty these days. Although “Shadow’s Shadow” is subtly hinted at via some of the earlier tracks slightly more corporal lower frequencies, and teased in the odd edgy moment in the preceding “When Time Means Nothing”, it still comes as something of a surprise, possibly a shock depending on how relaxed you were. Its tension is sustained by a murky, rumbling drone that is egged on by instruments being occasionaly struck rather than stroked, the stringed instruments less optimistic but resiliently twinkling over the top to compensate. And then it’s over, the cosmic power comes back on, the shadows melt away and the album is back on its blissful course until the end. Lovely stuff.

Herbert & Momoko - Clay (Strut)

Matthew Herbert leapt on to my radar with his Bodily Functions album almost a quarter of a century ago, and as a producer with a manifesto never to use preset sounds, instead preferring to sample and repurpose the sounds of the world, I’ll leave you to guess where the sound sources for that album came from. Oddly it was, up until now, his most soulful work.

I’d never heard of Momoko Gill before this album, and although she’s been involved in a few tasty collaborations the last four years, it looks like she’s been paying her dues rather than getting paid, so respect to Herbert for picking up on her obvious but under appreciated talents, laying down the album with her and giving her a leg up.

Herbert for his part dusts off his warmer, less provoctive box of studio tricks to accentuate his studio partners soulful tones and loose rhythmic work, choosing to elevate rather than overwhelm her charming vocals with his distinctive sonics, although “Mowing” leans into heavier start of night club territory and “More and More” starts off all sweet and jazzily before the sonic demons peek through the portal to smirk and disrupt the generally good natured collaboration.

On the whole though the album mines the lighter but meaningful end of nu-jazz and the deeper, looser, lither and pleasantly leftfield side of soulful house, and will sound great if you want some upbeat, forward looking soul for those road trips to the nearest sand or bucolic setting to make the most of the good weather.

Natural Information Society - Meditation (New Soil)

Joshua Abrams and his loose collective of revolving talent, Natural Information Society, have been exploring the intersection of jazz, minimalism and traditional native music for the last ten years or so, coming to my attention with the driving, gnawa infused hypnotic trance of Simultonality.

Details on Meditation are scant, it doesn’t even appear on Abram’s or label partner New Soil’s websites, but according to Substack’s

Alex Gallacher

and his excellent KLOF newsletter/blog, it’s the first instalment of a digital triptych - destination unknown, and incorporates some already released music alongside, I’m presuming, new material. Wherever the series is heading, or whatever it contains, they’re starting off on a mellow tip with this suitably entitled LP.

You’ll certainly have time to contemplate your navel with the first track, “In Memory’s Prism“ clocks in just shy of twenty four minutes; ambling through the speakers in leisurely fashion with slow percussion and a resting bass pulse to guide the droning, quivering horns that come along on the regular to elevate your thoughts to more spiritual matters, provide mental clarity and suggest that inner peace is just a change in perception away.

“St. Cloud” mines more percussive new age territory immediately transporting you to an idyllic island in the Pacific and courteously pointing you in the direction of the local shrooms so you can better appreciate the second half flashback. “Lore” and “Stigmergy” both clock in at thirteen minutes, the former spending half that time in an ambient trance before communing with the ancestors via an easy Afrocentric groove, and the latter being the most straight up, albeit spiritually enriching, jazz tune I’ve heard from the project. “Moon Hunger” anchors its spirit world exploration with a ritualistic bass slap and ethereal horns, “The Ladder” sounds like a jam session breather for the musicians to take stock and contemplate their new found enlightened states, before an edit of the the LP opener signals the end whilst suggesting you hit repeat.

Hamid Reza Behzadian - Blues for Leila (Self Release)

The African roots of the blues have been well explored and disseminated over the last couple of decades, and no respectable world music festival would be without one of the many desert blues purveyors from sandier climes. Hamid Reza Behzadian from his well placed Dutch home is forging a new path though. Looking West to America and East to Persia and India to showcase his love for, and the affinity of the blues with the sounds of his distant homeland and its near neighbour, artfully fusing the sounds of his harmonica, both Indian and Western slide guitars and Iranian folk music.

Online information is again frustratingly thin on the ground, with no Bandcamp page and even his website making no mention of this latest release. In fact I only heard about it on a rare trawl through my Bluesky feed when TSMM favourite Golden Brown was enthusing about the release, what a stroke of luck - cheers mate!

Kicking off the album is “Zeeland’s Desert” that eases us in with some dusty, sun warped guitar as the first hints of the Indian influence raise their head before suddenly taking over with a burst of South East Asian percussion and string sounds that soar over the lolloping Western undertones. “Blues for Leila” fuses Persian and Southern Blues slide work, even hinting at flamenco’s Eastern ancestry, that’s how circular and unifying this recording is.

“Yellow Bride (Intro)” invents ambient harmonica, whilst the tracks main body introduces Persian percussion as the countries embrace and improvise rather than accuse and abuse for a change, and so it continues throughout this entrancing listen. Each country gets its moment in the sun, but borders are constantly breached, suspicions ignored, cultural diversity celebrated, precious age old sounds respectfully reshaped by foreign ideas into timeless cross-cultural fusions, politely suggesting as it goes that our so called leaders should be making music rather than war.

Available on all streaming services.

Jeremiah Chiu & Marta Sofia Honer - Different Rooms (International Anthem)

Jeremiah Chiu is a busy boy with his community organising, graphic designing, lecturing and music making. Marta Sofia Honer is a contemporary violist/violinist based in Los Angeles who has an admirable list of credits, supplying her string work to everyone from Lewis Capaldi and The Weekend right through to Bitchin’ Bajas and Adrian Younge, and there’s not many musicians with that sort of collaborative diversity to their name.

The new album sees these studio neighbours embarking on another ethereal voyage of discovery to the land where ambient, new age, minimalism and classical meet, and after the joys of their first trip why wouldn’t they? The album is a collage of songs, field recordings, studio experiments and motifs recorded at the tale end of 2024 and the dawning of 2025, coupled with some welcome live recordings of Jeff Parker and Josh Johnson from 2023.

Minimal tones, blissful synths and nuzzled strings get the album off to a (yogic) flying start and set the tone for the rest of the album, being immediately followed by more good natured electroacoustic endeavour just to reassure those getting comfortable. “Side by Side” sees Jeff Parker ditching his jazz hat for a nice line in succinct, finger picked minimalism. “Before and After Signs” morphs between gentle cinematic ambient, star gazing repetition and low key classical passages. I could go on, but you must have the idea by now. Hit play and if you like the first moments then you’ll enjoy the last and everything in between.

ghost and tape - Pardinyas (Dauw)

Ghost and tapes is a self taught guitarist, improviser and composer adept at modular synthesis, sampling and sound manipulation, and oddly for someone called Heine Cristensen lives in the north of Spain, about a weeks brisk walk along the Camino de Santiago from me.

Ambient music takes many forms, from the ignorable to the dark and menacing, unrepentantly electronic to acoustic and everything in-between, and this LP is definitely an in-betweener, but despite my natural inclination towards the nonabrasive, palliative end of the ambient spectrum this is something of a Thai massage, a mildly unsettling but ultimately relaxing affair, and I like it a lot.

The root cause of the unease are micro, and sometimes extended samples of gently distorted, not unpleasant machine noise that pepper the recording throughout, and which on their own would need a particular audience. However these sonic snippets are constantly cushioned between warm guitar snippets, other abstract and more melodic micro-sounds that constantly jostle with the mild unease, ultimately coming out on top to upset the noise fans and please the sofa dwellers.

Don’t Forget TSMM’s Playlists and Podcast.

From ambient sound baths and wellness imbuing new age vibes to underground house via jazz, neoclassical, folk, dub and more, the twenty one TSMM playlists and podcast cover a lot of ground, and are updated regularly.

They’re available on Tidal, Apple Music, Youtube Music, Youtube and Soundcloud, as well as Spotify, Amazon and Deezer (if you don’t worry about these three not paying most of the artists on the playlists).

Just hit this smartlink to connect to the various services and TSMM profiles.