Rain Stops Play

but plenty of ambient endeavour - both sunblessed and melachnolic, some alt-folk, a soundtrack score and some electronic escapism should help...

There’s not much to report as I’m currently too preoccupied for opinions and largely housebound as the weather in the north of Portugal does its humid worst. It’s been raining heavily since the last newsletter and my phone shows another ten days to come, but at least the temperatures aren’t bad and I have electricity, 5G/internet and a roof over my head, unlike many in the country’s devastated centre.

I’ve also had to ramp up my day job hours and start working weekends this year to pay my lawyer’s bills, who has been retained to ensure my daughter knows she has a father who loves her, and not to mention grows up bi-lingual (what a gift!). Red-eye, seven and a half hour round bus trips through a storm battered Portugal like the other Sunday, just for us to be reunited for a few hours, can’t go on. The first court hearing is tomorrow with an interim custody decision due, and counter to my initial assumptions the courts apparently now favour joint custody rather than the mother takes all approach of times gone by. Fingers crossed for an equitable solution.

I wanted to drop in an updated photo of my vegetable garden to be, but every time I remembered to take one it was lashing it down or too dark. You’re not missing much to be honest, it only shows three, ten by one meter twenty rows covered by an old tarpaulin I found when strimming the grounds, and the village shop’s entire quantity of Christmas cardboard - it’s not pretty. Luckily the wind gusts have been relatively kind to my cardboard’s light blocking efforts to kill all the weeds and grass without disturbing the soil structure, and the beds should be in some sort of useable shape for, on advice from the wise old lady next door, some March transplanting. I did somewhat belatedly, and rather speculatively, plant forty cloves of garlic into a separate grassy area which I then also covered with cardboard, but I’ll be amazed if they don’t get choked by competing roots or rot in the ground before germination; let’s see how tough and waterproof garlic really is.

Right on to the music.

PILLBERT - Memoria (Squama)

Striking debut albums are few and far between but Lilian Mikorey has just released one. A young German girl from Munich, she moved to London from her Munich home aged just twenty years old. Imagine the separation from friends and family at such a formative age, compounded by landing in the belly of such an unforgiving urban beast. Even I waited until I was twenty two before ditching small town UK for Amsterdam thirty odd years ago.

Naturally the concept of home raised its head during the transition, and luckily for us she decided to soundtrack her experiences and thoughts. With a photo of a Munich house as a reference, she set about putting her already considerable Ableton production skills to good use. She recorded the sounds of her collected knick-knacks, grabbed field recordings of London life and its weather alongside her self taught guitar strumming. Distinctive sound palette sorted she then artfully fused them with machine made ambient noise to provide some sonic beds on which to rest her, at times translucent, musings on upheaval, recalibration, discovery, excitement, trepidation, wonder, loneliness, growth, insecurity, resilience and joy.

The result is a gently evolving ambient album that charts her personal growth and emotional journey. The album opens with those wafer thin vocals and the ambient pop vibes of “I Don’t Feel No Fear”, before descending into uneasier, more experimental sounds on “Chello, My Girl”, which sounds like a mild panic attack. The ambient folk of “Pillar” soon calms the nerves again though with her gentle voice beckoning you closer for comfort, both hers and yours.

“Picture of a House” is a restless but not fidgety affair, the often hard to discern spoken words riding a still swirling cocktail of effected harmonica, chopped vocal samples, guitar snippets and public transportation sounds. Next up is the almost normal, piano led singer songwriter endeavour of “Tiny Dancer”, and due to its stripped back production, also our first real chance to explore her sweet, innocent sounding vocal tones. The album then melts into similarly intimate ambient folk, the field recordings mostly staying a respectful distance, whilst the voice elevating guitar and lonesome harmonica nudge her tale within earshot, giving us further opportunity for psychological evaluation, and I’m happy to report she’s more than alright.

I’m sure Mikorey was, and probably still is, on an emotional rollercoaster and the uneasier, instrumental “Room Full of Doubt” sounds like “one of those days”, though not insurmountably so, and the uncertainty is well articulated, despite the absence of words. The final three tracks see Pillbert grow in assurance, it sounds like friends were found, shyness fought - her voice butting into the compositions rather than hiding behind them, and the sounds holding their head that bit higher as transport routes became familiar, strange faces less threatening and numbers added to her phone.

It must have been quite an experience. It’s certainly a great listen.

Various Artists - Sleeplaboratory6.0 (Whitelabrecs)

Another year another Sleeplaboratory compilation from Whitelabrecs, one of the world’s finest ambient labels, whose head honcho has recently started a label Substack if you want to take a deeper dive into the genre psyche and keep track of the label’s regular release schedule.

As usual the compilation takes an open minded look at the ambient condition, albeit with getting a good night’s kip in mind, and to that end a restrained nocturnal palette was encouraged. I was surprised to hear that the music came from the, new to me, Inner Echo circle, a sort of ambient version of the Masons made up of like minded ambient labels, whose members allegedgly make themselves known to each other by imitating bird sounds. Speculation aside, the music arose organically from community/brotherhood discussions, and it appears they’re a benign force for musical good.

As usual there are a mixture of familiar and new names, who I immediately followed via Bandcamp and also Tidal, my favoured streaming service. The music flows seamlessly through rain soaked drones, minimal piano led lullabies, shimmering soundscapes, sonic shards lovingly stitched together to form soothing wholes, fuzzy audio textures that glow in the dark and all sorts of weightless frequencies that drift into your listening space and hang listlessly yet reassuringly in the air.

Sleep well dear readers.

Kit Gordon - Asa Tata Asa Fiu (Original Motion Picture Score)

Asa Tata Asa Fiu album cover and a low lit Kit Gordon.

I stumbled across Kit Gordon last week after hearing, and then reviewing for the blog, his Taber, 2025 (field recordings) EP he put out in December. If you don’t know, he’s an unreasonably talented and refreshingly eclectic drummer, singer, rapper, multi-instrumentalist and producer of tender years from Northwest London. As well as being found behind the drum kit for various London jazz ensembles, he has moved on from his teenage lo-fi urban pop dalliance and is currently developing a nice line in fusing field recordings and ambient music with various strains of trans-Atlantic folk.

The album you have before you is the score for Asa Tata Asa Fiu, a short film project by a friend that is still in its kickstarter phase, and which rather like Gordon’s music is striving for depth and meaning. Not all scores work well as home listening, but despite the short track run times the mostly guitar led ambient Americana flow works very nicely, despite stepping aside every now and then, as with the intro, to let some more dramatic bowed strings and passages pass.

The microphone placement was close up; instrument creaks and finger contact are captured and they sound right at home alongside the various field recordings of life’s often overlooked moments which float around the soundstage, wisely augmenting the instrumental endeavour.

The film is obviously a heart on sleeve document of the human condition. There are mournful strings, optimistic acoustic guitar, plenty of finger picked contemplation - often with some Americana twang to make sure you notice the rolling scenery, home to our feathered friends. Moments of curiosity are created by approaching instruments from odd angles with odd devices, and there’s even some worrying suspense on the innocently, but probably euphemistically entitled, “haircut” - which sounds like the sort of cinematic moment when audience breath is held, and who doesn’t like a dramatic, “end”?

Start here and then make sure you check the EP after. He’s also got a great, less is more Instagram profile containing some fantastic clips of him playing percussion on all sorts of unlikely objects.

Strangebird~Sounds - Minerals Form The Crust

Gregory Geerts aka Strangebird~Sounds is a producer from Antwerp in Belgium, with modular synthesis as his music’s engine and a fondness for floating field recordings from his rural and urban wanderings around his creations to ground the otherwise otherworldly sounds. He’s been making the world of ambient electronic music that bit weirder and more colourful for the last five years, and his new album is another ear and eye catching transmission.

Apparently “Minerals From the Crust” dives into the Earth’s layers to survey the still unexploited sonic jewels hidden beneath our feet, but the album sounds more intergalatic mining suited to me, although the tellurian sounds of nature might dispute that. Whatever, it’s not long before electronic gems are spotted close to the mine’s opening, their audible sparkle playfully duetting with our feathered friends. Next up some spiky beats and tones look for fresh fissures to prise open but by the track’s half way mark they’re exhausted, lose their edge and decide to float off to the break room.

“Calcite” adopts a steadier approach with looped refrains, sonic shimmers and the sounds of an old steam piston engine in the mix if I’m not mistaken, which I probably am. Next up “Celestine’s” playful but gently insistent tones suggests more urgent tunnelling is required, and “Fluorite” after its low gravity intro heeds the call, an uneasy sonic trickle cooling the drill bits, and an old motor fired up to push the cascading synths to greater intensity. The ride isn’t over yet as “Mesolite” takes an unhurried trip back down memory lane to classic yet still vibrant, twentieth century synth form. “Neptunite” then urges one last push before “Zeolite” opens the door to the surface bound lift and the welcome sight of the sun’s last rays.

Logan Farmer - Nightmare World I See The Horizon (Western Vinyl)

***** Ooooops HUGE Mistake ***** Thanks to Logan for letting me know that my track by track review is actually a review of his 2022 album, A Mold For The Bell, which in my overtired, must finish the newsletter state, I must have hit play on by mistake when freestyling the review - what a balls up! :) I’ll try again next newsletter.

Western Vinyl are always worth keeping an eye on - I’ve discovered so much great music through them, and this latest missive from Logan Farmer - by my reckoning his finest offering to date, is boding well for their 2026 release schedule.

For the uninitiated Farmer is a folky singer songwriter from Colorado with a fondness for charting imminent catastrophe in a most listenable manner, and considering we’re barrelling through the Anthropocene, descending into techno enabled autocracy and most of us are complicit, I’m surprised his message feels still so lonely.

He’s certainly not alone in the studio, calling in Heather Woods Broderick and Eliza Niemi on cello and vocals, Annie Leeth for her violin prowess, Zachary Visconti variously on electric guitar, bass, piano, vocals and beats and Patrick Lyons for a pedal steel injection.

The album eases us into it’s dystopian future/present (delete as applicable) with three songs of gentle, beautifully crafted guitar led folk music, which apart from “Cue Sunday Bells’” ambient ending, wouldn’t sound out of place of an Appalachian radio station. The nagging vocal loop and basic drum machine intro on “Crooked Lines” immediately announces this is not your average singer songwriter fare despite Farmer’s classic crooning suggesting otherwise, but suspicions are soon confirmed by bursts of distortion that an uncredited sax gamely, but unsuccessfully, tries to smooth over.

Perhaps recognising the shock, Farmer then slips back into folkier form with the string trio adding a bit of vintage orchestral class and the sax returning for the final schmaltzy flourish. Folk and cinematic strings collide on “The Moment” offering a widescreen view of America’s last unspoilt spaces as Farmer’s melancholic tale looks out with unseeing eyes. “Renegade” initially adds an intimate folktronic moment before it decides to hitch a lift on Musk’s planetary escape rocket just as TSHTF. Finally “South Vienna” looks out of the window, the piano assisted acoustic guitar and vocal sadness almost too much to bear, but as with the whole album, in the best possible way.

Otto Benson - Peanut (WNOADIARWB)

Otto Benson leapt out of the oddball psychedelic underground at me in January, and I think I’ve timed my high five just right; and if you care to sift through his weird, wild and whimsical back catalogue of lo-fi acid folk, raw IDM, (very) alt-pop and general unpredictable sonic mayhem, you’ll probably agree.

After swerving reckless through genres for the last three years - any why the hell not, it appears Benson had a cohesive album in him after all; not that in today’s singles deluge that matters so much, but it certainly makes him more appealing to old farts like me. He’s also found his voice - a most welcome addition, and this is him offering his fellow Americans, and those looking on aghast from afar, “a place of solace, internal reflection, and mystery” in America’s crumbling social, political, legal and humanitarian landscape.

Bedroom acid-folk is largely the order of the day for this sonic, hand painted, floor cushion adorned, joss stick scented refuge. A vintage drum machine, comforting bass and lightly stoned guitar get the album off to an easy start; a perfect gateway track, especially when it starts meditating at the end. There’s a sense of urgency on “Red and Neon” as Benson’s vocals says hello to an expectant world and rather like the production and musicianship, there’s a raw charm to his affably delivered tale - he has the sort of down to earth voice you’d like to chat too after a live show. “Raisin” adds some second hand vintage synth pads to the singer songwriting, but the machine cheekily hijacks, then launches the track into mid-track ambient orbit before Benson wrests control back and lands the track to folky terra firma once more.

That dusty drum machine returns to offer structure to the well behaved guitar, pads and bass of “Soy Beans”, which together noodle along in suitably pastoral, if pesticide sprayed, laid back fashion. Inspired by the rural surrounds, “Drive Away” plans an escape from it all in earthy Americana fashion, although there is leftfield devil in the lyrical detail. The ominously entitled, “Tumor” initially wobbles along in woozy fashion, before the abnormal cells force the track into a psychedelic episode with a worryingly abrupt ending. Fortunately Benson survived the scare to hone his more straight ahead folky singer songwriter chops before the pleasantly stoned, “Catch You Later” suggests this is not the end. I hope not.

Fabiano Do Nascimento & E Ruscha V - Aquaticos (Music From Memory)

Fabiano Do Nascimento is a hard working Brazilian-American guitarist, composer, producer and arranger, currently flitting between Los Angeles and Tokyo. He’s not hanging about either and has been releasing one or two albums of varying stylistic hues a year since 2015.

E Ruscha V is an L.A. based producer and multi-disciplinary artist, perhaps you might have stumbled across his Secret Circuit moniker? I was relatively, but not too late to the party, where he’s been blending tropical, psychedelic and pleasantly experimental electronic and club sounds for the last thirty years. He was even involved in some underground band projects before that, and it’s fair to say he’s been around.

After having enjoyed large amounts of both artists’ recordings over the years, as well as noting that the album was being released on the ever interesting, TSMM attuned Music From Memory label, hopes were high for this one, and I’m happy to report I wasn’t disappointed. Both artists are in fine ethereal form, and it sounds like the studio had a large window and nice view.

Ruscha for his part lays down a skeletal electronic frame, the beats are few and far between which allows the sounds and guitar notes to breathe - reverb and echo left to take their natural course. Electronic tinkering is subtle, but a low-grade haze permeates the recording, and the sun’s rays reveal that the clouds of smoke are coming from behind the synth racks. I doubt if Nascimento was even standing for most tracks, instead content to lean back into the oversized studio sofa and fill in the gaps, more worried about evoking lazy summer days, snuggly Sunday mornings and Balearic sunsets than showing off his virtuosity; or perhaps that’s the definition of virtuosity?

If your sonic seasonal depression lamp bulb has blown then your replacement is here, and if you’re down south then look no further for the soundtrack to the last weeks of summer.

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, Amazon, Youtube Music, Youtube, Deezer, Soundcloud and Spotify (if you don’t worry about them not paying most of the artists on the playlists).