In a 2014 interview at the Red Bull Music Academy, we heard Fatima Al Qadiri say, “It’s not brute force,” referring to her martial arts-inspired approach to composition. And yet, two years later, we have Brute. I would argue, however, that as much as Al Qadiri has mastered an agile, fit-for-battle sound, the subtleties in her work have continued to multiply, making Brute an album whose true value is only apparent on the third or fourth listen.

Below, I offer my thoughts on some tracks from the album, highlighting its lows and highs.

Brute is out on Hyperdub.

"MTFTM" appears on GODMOTHER's latest, Transgenre. You can check it and the rest of New Pangea releases here.

Kladzyk’s performances are not to be missed, an essential piece to the realm that is Ziemba. With today’s release of The Longest Night on this One Habitable Star, a holiday EP available for free download via Bandcamp, comes a Texmas Tour. Check out Ziemba live, stream the EP exclusively below, and watch for a debut full-length in 2016.

Photo by Ben Grad. Ziemba's head piece was created by Heidi Lee.

12/18 w/ Liz Burrito @ Indian Roller; Austin, TX

12/19 w/ Rattlesnake Milk, Daniel Markham & Claire Morales @ J & J's Pizza; Denton, TX

12/20 w/ Rattlesnake Milk, The Backbones, and Antique Sunlight @ Hi-Tones; San Antonio, TX 1

2/21 w/ Rattlesnake Milk, Ben Cissner, and Antique Sunlight @ Hotel Vegas; Austin, TX

12/22 w/ Rattlesnake Milk @ Lost Horse; Marfa, TX 12/23 w/ Part Time, Lightworks, Joe Nava (LNSC) @ The Warszawa; El Paso, TX 

“People find whatever gets them in their happy place to stay functional while they’re on this planet,” says Jamal to me over Skype. “I find little minute things that keep me stabilized.” Halfway through an hour-long interview with Chicago’s Jamal Moss – also known as Hieroglyphic Being – we are talking about comfort zones. He tells me that when he’s on tour, he often keeps to himself, preferring to stay in his hotel room until the next show. I quite like thinking about Moss’ often hectic House-meets-noise experiments in terms of comfort, perhaps because his music may very well belie any chance of it.

Moss’ latest album, We Are Not The First, is the result of a collaboration among some formidable forces. The Arkestra’s Marshall Allen, jazz saxophonist Daniel Carter, along with Greg Fox, Shelley Hirsch, Shahzad Ismaily, Elliott Levin, Rafael Sanchez, and Ben Vida form the J.I.T.U. Ahn-Sahm-Buhl. (J.I.T.U. stands for “journey into the unexpected.”) All together, Moss and company manage to crack free jazz over the head of experimental House. On “Civilization That Is Dying,” a serene, if distorted, guitar melody is quickly interrupted by the ambling trills of Shelly Hirsch, sweeping percussion, and oscillating synth-scape. Each track seems to read more urgently than the last, culminating in more noise- and synth-heavy tracks like “Universe Is a Simulation.”

Admittedly, however, Moss’ conversation style says more about his music than I could ever think to say. He is quick-moving, continually on to the next thing, and somehow manages to both over- and under-explain most things. Listening to We Are Not The First is not unlike this. On the one hand, there are motifs that seem to appear and reappear, perhaps to the point of belaboring them. “Brain Damage” seemed to begin, proceed, and end with much the same high-energy free-for-all that the track right before, “Cybernetics Is a an Old Science,” did, for instance. On the other hand, there are other moments on the album that have only continued to pique my interest: about two minutes into “Root Of,” we hear Moss’ voice ask, “What’s the root of Trayvon [Martin]? What’s at the bottom of that question?”

Right at the start of the interview, Moss issued a challenge to me. “People ask me questions and it's basic shit. I'm not a basic bitch. You gotta dig deep, you know?” he said, laughing. In that moment, I figured the best place to begin was with the music video for “F*ck the Ghetto / Think About Outer Space.” “Tell me how it came together and then we’ll dive into things,” I promised. I thought about how I might up the ante, ask questions that Moss himself would find challenging – but there was no need. Moss dove into the material all on his own, with little prompting from me. In the text below, you’ll a transcription of a six-minute excerpt from our interview, in which I’ve tried my best to preserve Moss’ spirit. And if you haven’t already seen it, be sure to watch the video that spurred the majority of our conversation, embedded below.

Note: Right before the moment excerpted below, Moss has been suggesting that he’d had a different vision for the music video than what came about. He says things like, “It's not for me to interject with my ego and say, no, I want it more gritty than that.” Then he takes a short pause and proceeds –

I wanted people to see the whole thing, with the store that only sells the 40-ounces, with the packaged meats, with the junk food. That would've been me if I would've did the video. But I get what they were doing. They was trying to get it more on a cerebral level, along with the vernacular of the lyrics. I get that. But if I was given a chance to give my take, I would actually put a narrative to it so people could identify with it. So, it wouldn't be just showing some Black folks coming out of the projects with what some people consider food – which I consider not food, the stuff that you would buy at these stores – but I would show it from different communities. I wouldn't just make it a Black thing. I would show somebody, say, that's poor in the rural parts of the Appalachians or like Tennessee or Kentucky, and show where they gotta shop to get food. I mean, hell, they gotta hunt for it, you know. Road kill is a delicacy – and it's no diss to them, it's the truth. You do your research, a lot of those people who live in a mountain lifestyle, they hunt, they kill what they eat. And then the stuff that we eat, that we buy in those stores, kills us. Look at the whole weird dynamic of people, how they live and try to survive on this planet. Because the one thing is about perception is you might have other people go, oh, here go these Black folks crying wolf again. And whole point is, no – because my whole perception until 2001, when I was hanging out with my ex-girlfriend in Germany, I hung out at a whole town that was nothing but projects, as far as I knew. She's like, let's go hang out with my friend got this band watch them jam out and she's like, well, it's kind of poor where he's at. So, I hung out with her and her friends in his garage rehearsing and then we went to where he lived at, and when we got there, there had to have been like fifty, sixty buildings as far as I could see that was bald. At least twenty stories tall and they were projects. For white folks. In Germany. And I could not sleep that night. She lay up in the bed ready to get her freak on and I'm like, I'm having a moment. I'm like looking out the window because my whole reality is just being reconfigured right now and I'm trying to adjust to what I'm seeing right now. She's like, what are you talking about? I said, these are projects and these are projects with predominantly white people in it. I was just like, You gotta understand where I come from, we had always been projected that this was a Black thing, this was a Black problem. You know, whatever, yada yada yada, economics, lack of education and stuff, and then to see this – that awakened part of my third eye to realize, there's a bigger scheme that's going on in this world that most of us are not privy to. That's why I'm kind of weird when it comes about that a message is being put out. You know, sometimes in the media, you'll have somebody with a powerful message and they can get easily skewed at the power of the narrative of the director or the producer, or the medium or format that it's re-packaged to the general public. And then it's watered down and then people don't even take it seriously or they take it as somebody not being happy with life. They don't look at it as part of a human suffering [...] but it just would've been cool to do a video that shows everybody's struggle. So, I'm not empathizing with asshole Nazis or white supremacists or racist white people or people who are bigger than whatever, but everybody has a story to be told and maybe a lot of that disconnect of everybody hating on someone else is because they don't know how to weigh or convey their pain, their suffering, their fears, their struggles. So they'll gravitate towards something that has a medium that gives some type of shock and awe to express what they're trying to get out to the world about their needs. I think it's part of the artist to express that – not just because of my background or wherever I come from, but expressing from a human point of view. That's what I'm more about. So as far how the video came about, I'm happy with it. I'm glad it's out there. But the whole point was for people to get that mantra. I want people to be like, fuck the ghetto, and think about something bigger. So outer space doesn't necessarily mean out into the stars or into another planet. It means: look to a higher goal, look to a higher standard. Look above where you're at. It just so happens when you look up, there's a outer space, there's broader realms from what you're used to being around. Because I know cats that's still on the block from where I grew up at. When they go to downtown Chicago, they have to dress up in they Sunday suit like they going to Paris or something and all they going is five miles away. That's the mental scope of some people. There's some people that don't even want to leave their blocks or communities because that's all they know, that's their safety blanket. That's their Linus contingency. You know the Peanuts gang with Linus and his blanket? That's their comfort zone.

We Are Not The First is out on RVNG Intl. Get the LP here.

What if you can't make your way through the doorway, though? For whatever reason, it just isn't working: you see it, you see people approaching and passing through it, and you see the attractive warm grasses beyond the boundary. Alas, you aren't drawn or guided towards it. It's like a scenario in which you are not being let in on a group secret. There are hints being tossed your way, but no questions being answered, no inclusive or explanatory language on offer. Instead, there is denial and cover up, and no one is available to sit down and translate it to you. 

Now, think of the emotions triggered by a memory of feeling excluded: fear, regret, confusion, rebelliousness, will to fabricate and/or locate a flaw in the system, preparedness to expound upon said flaw, impulse to overcompensate, and other complexities.

For me, the fanfare around Bing & Ruth is a league that I feel excluded from. I do not understand what goes on beyond the boundary that separates my tastes and tuning from what the orchestra graciously creates. Outside of my sphere, it is consumed passionately. I have an appreciation for orchestral soundscapes, in particular the intersection between classical and experimental. Systems/Layers by Rachel's, a brilliant 2003 release that followed up a steady and monumental discography of conceptual as well as biographical scoring, continues to serve as a personal beacon when sauntering through the boreal depths of modern (and underground) classical. Further, several pieces from Nina Nastasia and Set Fire To Flames have served as keystones within my second phase of musical maturation (forced techno separation – early 20s). Thus, I do not feel fear, regret, or rebelliousness when it comes to my reluctance with Bing & Ruth. Confusion, a little; fear, no. I know this style, genre, and sentiment. So what is it? If Bing & Ruth bear some implicit celebration of the human condition, perhaps I feel like they accept me for not having the same tuning, and that's that. Perhaps I admire this music's type of low-impact commerce yet significance in which it is taken in by others. It has such nepenthe contentness but no net in their casts. 

For music so resonant, it is odd to think that it does not resonate with all pairs of ears. Still, the fact that Bing & Ruth is perched on resonance does not automatically mean it will have a resonating effect on one's taste. It leaves me driven with curiosity, similar to the one depicted by the wanderering man – futuristic Quaker journeyman – in the video for "Broad Channel." Fearful, astonished, and unsure of what to do, he stands in the sand, peering into spinning galaxies on disguised and statuesque bodies. We are shown his throbbing absorption of this bizzare display, and try to understand it on his behalf. Is it about macro/micro, or the old tenet that some things are meant to be neither understood nor all-inclusive, nor make any sense?

City Lake is available now on RVNG Intl. Read more and order a copy here.

The Blue Hour is out January 15 via Berlin Classics' new Neue Meister imprint.

Doors open at 8. Find more details about the event on Facebook.

Anna Meredith’s debut album Varmints is out in March 2016 on Moshi Moshi.

Sierra Manhattan's self-titled cassette is out tomorrow on Atelier Ciseaux and AB Records. Get one of the 100 copies (or their unlimited digital equivalent) over here.

Collage is out on 130701. Get it over here.

-pleasantly bored
-there's a city between me and vast wilderness
-aimless heartbreak
-progressive loops
-implicit drums
-solo week nights
-moments of the midwest in the west
-cozy shadowland
-it feels so familiar and I don't know why
-pre-nostalgia
-he makes it seem easy
-I am afraid of soft November skies
-missing the boat completely and slowly accepting the fact that it wasn't meant to be
-November music, oh so good and oh so sad
-the same patterns follow us for the rest of our lives

On occassion, we get to know artists who craft a signature sound so recognizable that we become inspired to establish an interpretive lexicon for describing them, keywords and codes for accessing steady play of their enticing designs. When it comes to FOANS, we are dealing with a bundle of nostalgia candy and studiousness, aesthetic song titles and addicting composition. His latest release on Denmark's Speaker Footage (also a launchpad for ambient pop acts like Temple Volant and AyGeeTee) is breadthy in duration, and a near masterpiece of an album. It is ambient-ready, IDM-esque, sample friendly, steadily melodic. Further, it is a work that can easily be played on repeat, like all FOANS releases, hence the candy reference. Having said that, there still is a quality to Schema that communicates the artist having taken things up a notch.

You know the type of dub ambient that is rhythmic without (much) drumming or dub, like Loscil? That is the place where FOANS hangs out, except that he still doesn't really sound like anyone else. Tracks like "Orsa" and "Copacabana" present percussion, the latter being a most enjoyable and familiar track. With a light and spiraling clarinet sample that reminds me of the one in FSOL's "Max", the melody feels Broken Social Scene-inspired, as it is down-home soothing, polyrhythmic, and - bear with me - Toronto-like: it's all about the way the light hits those low buildings off of Bloor and the nearness of the intimidating body of fresh water. Later, tracks like "Compensation" and "Comment #1" are succinct, catchy, and pro-dance. "Steam" is agreeably of Lobster Theremin caliber with its housey snare hits and wrestling shimmering melodies, balled up by their rolling motion. 

"Lean," however, is an example of percussion-less rhythm. It is thematic and sprinkley, looked after by an agile bass line. When "Sizzle" sneaks in, we have an Aix Em Klemm-cadence of contemplation on our hands. With another notable bass line present, we sense some protectiveness rather than ability, perhaps conveyed by its concentrated persistence. We may sigh and simply give in to one by one acknowledging the layers and calm evolution that they endure.

"Touchscreen" is a breathtaking trance track minus drums, and, due to its potency, it is terribly challenging to recap. Its watery foundation hooks us at once before a Carpenters-sounding vocal loop enters to lead a plethora of gorgeous pad synth formation. The leading melody is truly cinematic, something to inspire grounded optimism for the seasons to come. "Dakan" drives the same point home even more further, and valorously. Just try it, you'll see.

For me, there's something significant about the fact that FOANS is in Denver, Colorado, the bursting-at-the-seams-of-your-white-collar-shirt recreational paradise. Having spent some significant time in that area over the last year, I can testify that Denver is gorgeous, expansive, and both soft and harsh. The atmosphere of the area is complicated and congested: it takes what feels like a full day to get from one area to another (despite all the visible coutryside) and one often catches oneself stuck in a traffic jam on the epic mountain pass on the way to the ski hill, ironically. Isn't skiing an activity that occurs moreso in areas less populated, on a mountain, in the natural world? Isn't part of it all about zoning out and escaping pressures of other people? This is normal speed and paradox for the population of the Denver area, and the empirical knowledge that I simply do not resonate with any part of that lifestyle feels pacified by FOANS. Having music this compelling and atmospheric come out of a place I find vibrationally fucked up, I am able to peer indirectly into the beauty and inspiration it offers so many millions of people; I can have gratitude for the place while lying safely distant from it.

Schema is out now on Speaker Footage. Order the tape here, and be sure to pursue more FOANS here.

In the group's latest video for the song "Returning Home," the viewer is brought into the congregation on a beam of light. Solar glare glistens on the waves as the group’s atmospheric organ rumble fades into audibility.  ‘On a silver sea / returning you home,’ Orchad repeats. The lyric implies patience in movement, the idling that accompanies any expedition, laying in wait. To travel is merely to pass time between destination and origin, and Erasers emphasise this lacuna. The accompanying visuals to "Returning Home" tell this story of stasis in travel: a single swimmer, in a silver sea no less, paddling in place as the water splits around her; stagnant sediment washed over repeatedly by rolling water; the relentless ripple of one’s own wake. The constant motion that the ocean insists upon is often overlooked by its perennial nature, as if to say, “the ocean isn’t going anywhere,” despite that it is always going, pushing, pulling, occillating like that familiar drone.

Stem Together is out on Fire Talk. Get it over here.

Musically, "Square Jaw" and "LGO", the first tracks from Der Gast, continue Paco Sala's distinct blend of kosmische-informed synth arrangements and crystalline vocals, though the rhythmic patterns are a little more prominent and dynamic this time around. Watch the video for the single exclusively below.

Der Gast is out on cassette November 6 via Night School Records. Pre-order the tape now over here.

Chamber Dreams is out digitally on November 13 via Hush Hush Records.

The Unreleased from "8" E​​P is out now via Greek imprint Melotron Recordings. Get it via bandcamp.

“Soichiro” is extremely emotive and sensual while recently released video for “EN” only showcases the abnormalcy that Ghersi strives for. In white thigh-platforms, it shows Arca, dancing in slow-mo to match the track’s dark, experimentally-pioneering manner. Both tracks are freeing and continue the project’s radical spirit. Nothing seems too ambiguous for Ghersi at this moment. In regards to the release, they reveal “softness as a weapon when the mind attacks itself”.

Mutant is out November 20 via Mute digitally, on CD, and 2xLP. Also peep the artwork from long-time collaborator Jesse Kanda.

Check out the whole tape below and get it via Mansions and Millions' bandcamp.

CYPHR, Paula Temple, She's Drunk, and Anika all re-interpret BIF's tracks, thereby creating their very own version of a trans- or even post-human tomorrow. Of all the tunes on the EP, however, it is Aïsha Devi's riveting, haunting remix of the rather quiet and pensive Polymorphous closing track "Easier Like That", which captivated us the most. Fresh off her own, excellent debut LP Of Matter and Spirit, the Swiss-Nepalese producer thoroughly deconstructs the original, turning it into a disruptive intervention that offers an almost epiphanic dramaturgy. Take a listen below.

Polymorphous Remixed is out via UnReaL Audio on October 16.

On short notice, Born In Flamez will support HEALTH at Berghain tonight, starting at 9pm. There might be a few tickets left, get more detains over here.

III is out November 6 via Denovali Records.