Back catalogue: All genres

Review: Stop us if you've heard this one before. Lee "Scratch" Perry walks into a Quasi Dub Development recording session somewhere in New York. He begins to freestyle in that surrealist, escapist, hallucinogenic kind of way we still love him for, and the results eventually make their way onto 2014's record, Little Twister. The rest, as they say, is history. Or maybe not quite. Four years after the world lost Perry's enigmatic poetry and pioneering contributions to dub, Pingipung, the label that carried that aforementioned LP, unearths the tape of one track from the collection the bosses clearly feel deserves more attention. 'Let's Communicate' is as intoxicating now as it was back then. Then contemporary UK dub don Elijah Minnelli steps up to deliver an alternative version that stands up on its own. No mean feat.

Review: Quade's second album is steeped in the isolation and raw beauty of its birthplace: a crumbling Welsh barn surrounded by moors. The Bristol four-piece i Barney Matthews, Leo Fini, Matt Griffiths and Tom Connolly i channel this wild setting into a sound that's both fragile and immense, blurring ambient-dub textures with ghostly folk melodies and the drifting crescendos of post-rock. The Foel Tower feels like it was pulled from misty hillsides and long, firelit nights, an album of quiet intensity: tender one moment, potent the next, yet always emotionally direct. Tracks unfold patiently, as if shaped by the slow grind of weather over stone. There's a strong undercurrent of personal grief and resilience here too. The band's longtime friendship and collective hardships add a tangible intimacy, turning these atmospheric compositions into acts of quiet survival. The Foel Tower transcends as it is stark, gorgeous and deeply human. This is music for the in-between moments: dusk turning to night, silence folding into sound.

Review: Portland, Oregon's Graham Jonson urges our hurries once more with Heard That Noise, an anemological study in ascendant post-rock and psych. Jonson crafts intimate, zigzagging and west windy songs, ploughing the grey, sludgy boundaries of folk, pop, and noise. Following a subtle tangent from SoundCloud renown to 2021's The Long and Short Of It, he now follows that record up through a desultory reflection on breakups, memory, and creative rediscovery; Phil Elverum, Dijon and Nick Drake glance through the sonic cloud cover as ancestral muses, while the record blends warmth and discordance, where sweet ballads unravel into distortion; serene moments jolted by sonic "jump scares."