Back catalogue: Post Rock/Experimental

Review: On her sixth full-length album, Tokyo's Satomimagae continues to refine her idiosyncratic fusion of folk, ambient and sound collage into something singular and quietly expansive. Hailing from Japan's acid-folk scene, Satomi's music often blurs the edges between the intimate and the cosmic, the rooted and the abstract. Taba floats beautifully in that liminal space. Rather than traditional song structures, she presents Taba as a series of open-ended vignettes, each radiating with a soft-focus clarity. The arrangements are centered around fingerpicked guitar, hushed vocals and ambient textures that are deceptively gentle. Closer listening reveals a rich interplay of glitchy electronics, subtle field recordings and haunted atmospheres. Tracks like 'Many' drift on echoing voices and vaporous folk melodies, while 'Tonbo' finds a summery sweetness in its fusion of pop and pastoral folk, complete with the sound of nature rustling at its back. 'Omajinai', perhaps the emotional core of the album, embraces traditional pop structure only to dissolve it into a haze of nostalgia and spectral warmth. Taba is not background music, it asks for deep listening, but rewards you with quiet truths and melancholic beauty.

Review: Alan Sparhawk isn't one for large crowds or the showy side of fame, yet over the course of his career, his influence has expanded far beyond his low-key persona. As the frontman of Low, the band he founded in the early 90s in Duluth, Minnesota, Sparhawk's distinct style has permeated not just indie rock but also the broader sphere of music that prizes depth over spectacle. The hallmark of Sparhawk's songwriting is the austere, almost minimalist beauty he coaxes from the sparsest of arrangements. His approach to music is inextricable from his sense of placeiDuluth's biting winters, its isolationieverything about the environment feeds into the slow-moving intensity of Low's sound. Musically, the album moves through a variety of textures, from the folk-tinged melodies of 'Heaven' and 'Get Still' to the raw emotional power of 'Screaming Song' and 'Don't Take Your Light.' The latter is particularly stirring, with its swelling fiddles and cello lines, embodying the depth of feeling that pours out during the recording. There's a certain urgency to the musician immediacy that comes from being in a room full of people who understand what it means to create together. The track 'Stranger' is imbued with an intimate, communal spirit, while 'Torn & in Ashes' builds on layers of banjo and mandolin, giving it a rich, earthy feel. Even as the sounds shift, there's an underlying consistency in the raw honesty of Sparhawk's voice and the way the band responds to it. Overall, the record a sense of continuity, reminding us that music, when made with those closest to you, becomes a vessel for lasting memories and support.