Back catalogue: Experimental/Electronic

Review: The incredible post-coldwave label Light Sounds Dark are *rara aves* of the experimental music underworld. Here they again do what they do best, procuring a (literally) incredible full-length compilation record: these tracks are credited to no one. The titular Salt Line Continuum is an invented metonym; together with the cartographic front cover, it suggests 19th Century geopolitical boundaries, delimitations of national and international territories, potentially alluding to everything from Middle Passage slavery to freemasonry. LSD transmigrate to Eurasia and Africa here, apparently tracing the invention of whiteness alongside masonry; chivalric orders like the Knights Templar are known to have crusaded across the featured locations on the sleeve. Red tracer lines on a paleo-geographical front cover help us cognitively map roots of both of hatred and shadowy dominance, as uncannily cold, schismogenetic sound wafts from a minimal source-set, as we hear the sounds of bells tolling; kalimbas plucking; patinated metal screeching.

Review: The good folks at Discreet Music celebrate its five-year anniversary with a special compilation featuring new and unreleased tracks from an eclectic lineup of artists. As highlighted in the extensive liner notes, this release covers plenty of ground, all of it part of the essence of Discreet Music but with an eye on evolution into new territories. It's a carefully curated collection with endless highlights - Eftergift's 'Demotiv' captures the sombreness of a dark winter night, Shadow Pattern's 'One Of These' is flickering, candle-lit space with distant synth tension and Livskraft's 'Lat Mig Tro' is a new age ceremonial ritual

Review: For their new album Lust 1, Voice Actor's Noa Kurzweil joins Welsh producer Squu for a woozy, intimate exploration of ambient sensuality. Following the sprawling Sent From My Telephone, this 45-minute work feels more focused but just as dreamlike with Kurzweil's hushed, often unintelligible vocals hovering over Squu's glowing pads and dubby pulses. With additional glitchy textures, soft hits and melancholic drones, the work forms a world that teeters between erotic hypnosis and emotional exhaustion. Highlights like 'You' and 'Nekk' blend vague ambience with jolting detail while pushing the sung-spoke-whispered words to the brink of abstraction. This is an album rich in fleeting emotions, tactile textures and forgotten memories.