
Miserere Luminis – Sidera (Debemur Morti, Mar 6)
Emerging from the ashes of Gris, Quebecois legends Icare and Neptune revived Miserere Luminis in 2023 with Ordalie, a record that proved the trio (the third is Annatar of Sombres Forêts) was much more than a mere side project. But this is their first true masterpiece, a triumphant showcase of technicality, songwriting, and emotion. For me, it’s usually less as more when it comes to black metal, but all of Sidera’s many layers are balanced in such a way that it avoids the common trappings: it’s cathartic but not histrionic, progressive but not indulgent. The pained howls spin scripture of existential woe, the sparing strings add aching harmonies, and the grooves lead upward into sublime oblivion.
Negation – 2022_Q3 & 2022_Q4 (WAY, Mar 7)

Though he’s been active for more than a decade at this point, you could fit all of Negation’s discography on a single CD with room to spare. Project mastermind Kieran Morris exhaustively sculpts and tweaks his sound experiments into laser-focused documents, as evidenced by concise releases like Solar Torque and 1988 Mitsubishi Montero Sport. The utilitarian materialism of 2022_Q3 & 2022_Q4‘s title extends to its contents, an assimilation of audio surplus generated by a bout of tedious desk labor and such prestigious programs as Microsoft Teams. Listening with speakers is a must; this is the NY phenom’s most complex and spatial work so far, exploding with dizzying technicality and building tension with well-placed downtime.
Ruda Vera – Suc de Rocs (sedicions, March)

One of a pair of new cassette releases on Catalonian hermit Ruda Vera’s own sedicions imprint, Suc de Rocs is a welcome reminder of what makes his art so special. In contrast to the short sketches of Anthimeria, this single-sided C90 collects lengthy meditations that are as humble and inscrutable as ever. Even more so than previous releases, it’s never quite clear where the sound sources end and the rattle and slur of the artist’s shambolic tape machines begin. Everything blends together in a single stream of dirt, glass, and ferric oxide. Ruda Vera’s music aligns with his collage work (see some examples in his new interview in Untitled) in how both fixate on singular masses of textures: the mash of motion in an everyday action, the crusty cacophony of closely recorded junk.
Jack Sheen performed by Apartment House – Press (The Trilogy Tapes, Jan 22)
If you’re at all familiar with my taste you know I’m not much of a classical head. There’s a certain kind of humanity I have to hear in music for it to resonate with me, and I don’t usually find it in formal composition. Jack Sheen’s work is one of a few notable exceptions. Press expands the haunting harmonics and elliptical arpeggios he explored with Solo for Cello to a quintet, with prolific British ensemble Apartment House embracing the unusual tunings and metal mutes required for this ambitious score. It’s spellbinding music, a diaphanous spiderweb that trembles on the edge of the abyss, faint grey light glinting on the dewy strands.
Nu No – Canto Ventríloquo (La République des Granges, May 15)
As I wrote in my review, Canto Ventríloquo reminded me to catch up on everything Nu No (Nuno Marques Pinto) has released since 2019’s Turva Lingua, so it gets props just for that. It’s also a testament to the quality of the tape that it stands out as a new high point for the Portuguese polymath even against such a consistent catalog. Each listen through is like opening an old grimy treasure chest, the contents of which you think you already know, only to be surprised every time. I’ve found myself growing to appreciate the more reserved cantos, wherein Pinto restricts himself to either only voice (“IX”) or no voice at all (“VII”)—the latter of which is an inflection point to close the A side, the winding tension like vocal cords priming for the next utterance.
Slacking – Curling Pupils of Sleep ’Neath Bended Moon (Fusty, May 27)

For those who have heard any of Jim Lerario’s recent material as Slacking—especially those who have witnessed it live—it comes as no surprise that Curling Pupils of Sleep ‘Neath Bended Moon is already sold out. The Pittsburgh wizard has steadily and mercilessly improved since his very first tape in 2019, and this first LP outing is the culmination of all of it. Magnetic tape is Lerario’s paintbrush, and on Sacred Heart of Reinvention and “Do What Thou Droop” from his split with Black Corolla he coated canvases with vivid nightmare hues. There’s a newfound fluidity on Curling Pupils, though. The shifting, slithering noise is as psychedelic as ever, but it’s also cathartic, even ecstatic at points (hear “Mean Bone”, which channels Dilloway’s “Eight Cut Scars”).
Lucy Bedroque – B4C (self-released, May 10)

To tide fans over until the promised but as-yet-unheard follow-up to last year’s Unmusique, C, extremely online MC and producer Lucy Bedroque (Jeremiah Mark) dropped the aptly titled B4C in May. A thrown-together collection of seven tracks, some of which may or may not be on the album, the EP has all the markings of a forgettable bonus release—that is, until it starts playing, and the magic makes itself known. “006 Finessaa” and “C Section” are some of Mark’s best songs yet, rawer and rougher takes on the young artist’s candy-coated approach to rage that capture their infectious live presence. I’m generally not huge on prettifun but his two features fit well here. There are some missteps, likely due to a rushed rollout (what the hell is that kick on “Bowser”), but the imperfections make it all the more perfect. Endlessly replayable.
Temple Guard – Citadel in Flames (worldwide, Jun 11)
Citadel in Flames snuck up on me. Lured by the killer cover art, I told myself I’d heard this same sound done to death and that Temple Guard wouldn’t make any more of a lasting impression than the countless other new heavy hardcore bands I’ve heard recently. But then “Blood Makes the Rain Fall” kicked in, and it slowly became clear that this five-piece stands apart from the horde. The bellowed lyrics range from doomsday resignation to militant eco-radicalism, sharpened with martial medieval imagery befitting of the visual aesthetic. The fury ramps to apocalyptic fervor with “The Weight of Undying Shame”, a crushing siege engine of a track fortified with the most evil breakdown of the year.





The hype level could not have been higher when OsamaSon’s long-awaited follow-up to Flex Musix, Jumpout, finally dropped in January of this year—and the disappointment level also could not have been higher. So I spent the year looping his past releases once again, latching onto the few underground collaborations he put out (which had some gems; “Shitshow” off his short tape with xaviersobased might be the song of the year) and hoping that the major label curse hadn’t claimed his creativity. And the hope was worth it, because Psykotic is the breakthrough full-length its predecessor purported to be. It delivers a hammer blow in the rage distortion war with opener “Habits,” the thumping beat cranked and compressed to buzzsaw register. Despite some minor pacing issues, the tracklist offers pretty much everything, from bangers to ballads and everything in between. Hoping for a CD release soon.
Looking back to Sine Wave Solo at Ftarri 2022, that material foreshadowed the direction Matsubara would take for her first studio album in nearly two decades. After so many years of honing her craft on one of the most stripped-down musical setups possible, she’s arrived at a mode of free improvisation that subverts the practice’s already nebulous idioms—or, more accurately, doesn’t care to acknowledge them at all. The single session that comprises Sounds from M is more analogous to sketches, or even breaths. She plays a sustained tone here, lets it fall back into silence, works up a crystalline flurry of clicks and bleeps, harps on a stutter, more silence before a fade-in… nothing seems to lead anywhere, and yet everything leads to something.
If the 2010s was the era of soulful 90s R&B diva revival, then naturally the 2020s is all about dance-pop girl group nostalgia. Last year FLO’s hit-heavy ACCESS ALL AREAS made it onto the list, so it’s appropriate that the trend continues with Jae Stephens and Total Sellout. I debated including it with
Even though I didn’t put it on the midyear list, C.O.T.H. has stuck with me the way few other recent noise releases have. It feels like the logical conclusion that all the Robert Fuchs material thus far has been leading toward. Here Dean Fazzino’s minimal toolkit achieves its most maximal results, each part of the suite its own world of constrained tension. The logic at work is both singular and familiar: feedback teeters over a shallow abyss in drones and loops, threatening to boil over but remaining enclosed in its sketchy shapes. The elusive, intimate “09/23/1999” is a sleeper that took time to show its hand, but now it’s my favorite track.
Above & Beyond snuck up on me. I was immediately impressed by how well-structured it was for an hour-long, 34-track tape, but maybe it was too much all at once. And then I kept coming back. Now I’m convinced this is the Chengdu-based underground MC’s best work, an indulgent yet consistent showcase of stellar instrumentals and (based on what translation apps give me, at least) his most thoughtful lyrics, both personal and political. A clear standout is “狗叫” (“Dog Barking”), which features an unforgettable vocal performance that underscores why people are so drawn to and obsessive over this music: the bleeding heart it wears right on its sleeve.
This debut CD from Iris Our has only been out for a couple months, but I already can’t imagine it leaving rotation anytime soon. It also begs inclusion here because the pastel cover art by Maggie Fitzpatrick is some real 2025 shit. I said plenty about the poetic aspects in my review, so now I’m inclined to emphasize just how detailed and immersive it sounds. Each component is precisely placed and inseparable from the whole, and every listen reveals new secrets. The shifting stereo image of “The Columns of Echo’s Lymphatic Library” and the dense, muggy layers of “Unshaped Murmuration” are mesmerizing through both headphones and speakers. 
By far my most-played tape this year. It’s already too easy to listen to a great C10 over and over—another recent example that I picked up after last year’s lists is Terror Mirage’s Piquer—but especially when the material is structured with precise momentum and dynamics. After so many times through, the anticipation of the blasts and breaks to come is just as energizing as the surprise of first hearing them. It’s also a compact overview of the Scathing arsenal: unyielding sheets of high-pitched squalling feedback, raw vocal attack, swirling texture-mash that lulls and then lashes. The sweet spot between meatier stuff like Fever Land Phantasmagoria and the fast-paced assault of his live sets.
Sawn Half is a project that has been recommended several times since the Sink CD came out on Flag Day last year. While I dug the textures at work on that one and Faults, something wasn’t clicking all the way. Then I gripped Sea of the End and suddenly I understood. Maybe it’s a brand new direction, maybe the mud of magnetic tape was the missing piece, but in any case I love this shit. “Pressure” and “Collapse” are two heavy, hulking slabs of slow-paced harsh that sounds like the earth itself crumbling away. It revels in the thick crunch but knows when to rise out and build tension before plunging back in. Crank the volume as loud as you can, then even louder—this one needs to be felt.
Verrückt is a tape I’ve thought a lot about this year, but words tend to fail when I sit down to write about it. This time I find myself looking at the artwork, which shows the planning sketches for the titular waterslide and a yellow triangular caution sign with a graphic of a crying child. The minimal design is still about as close as we can get to such an unspeakable event. We can read testimony, pore over documents, even visit the place where it happened, but only ever at a profound remove from what took place. Mouths Agape engages not just with the horror of the incident but also the horror of our futile fascination with it. The music is a queasy but intentional weave of analog and digital: the body and the metal, death and its recreation.
Last-minute gems like this are the reason I wait until the actual end of the year to compile my lists. Helena is the trio of Spanish improvisers Clara Lai (keys), Àlex Reviriego (bass), and Vasco Trilla (drums), who have played together previously and subsequently in various combinations. In December 2023 they convened to perform loose compositions by Reviriego in a quiet, careful chamber-style configuration. The mood is placid and pensive, each of the three musicians hanging on each other’s considered tones, anticipating the right moments to meet in fragile harmony. The performance is wonderful, but the humble audience recording is what really makes this tape special. Every creak, every cough is audible, erasing the partition between music and space Skylark Quartet–style.
I can’t name explicit links in the stylistic lineage that led to this tape without revealing my hypothesis of who “A.H.” and “C.M.” are, but anyone who’s been keeping up will pick up on the radical, almost diagnostic distillation of harsh feedback techniques explored here. It’s a lovely surprise from the Head Meat catalog, which has previously featured some of the most active direct-action noise of the past few years. That’s not to say that these two movements are stagnant. The only point of reference I can think of is Sissy Spacek’s CD Slow Move and its hypnotic illusions of contrastive but coexistent speeds. Each side hits with a boom, almost like a wall but with so much, so little movement.
It was such a relief to find Pink Thistle this year, just when I was realizing how little new wall I was coming across. Alan Doyle’s new project doesn’t exactly push any boundaries, but his execution and vision are so distinct that “wanting more” is the last thing that comes to mind. The False Memory 2xCS is my favorite of the many tapes and CD-Rs he put out this year, a four-part odyssey from thick crunch to spectral hiss. The tracks are static structurally but not somatically; there’s always a real human presence, especially in part II when you can hear the noise roar into existence after a second or two of dead air.
Any Sick Days release is a world inside a world. Jeffrey Sinibaldi zooms into the nebulous zones between everyday interactions in nature—the rain and the surfaces it hits, the air and the sound it carries—and takes his time capturing the elusive complexity within. Dress Entire is an excellent place to start if you haven’t heard his work before. Its slow pace and intoxicating humidity welcome new ears like a hothouse on a cold day, and once you stay long enough you’ll see the cracks in everything and how the water heals them. 
A serious contender for Most Unserious Offender, Deep Grey has been making waves in the godforsaken tundra of Canada and beyond with his tools for transcendence, netting such prestigious back-cover blurbs as “Sounds sorta like Expressway Yo-Yo Dieting rocking a Knox Mitchell rig.” Though devoid of the excessive samples that made Self-Healing Transformation Seminar so memorable, Lifestyle Determines Deathstyle is just as scatterbrained, a knob-twiddler’s dream. It’s paced like a sketchbook, throwing shit at the wall and not even looking to see what sticks, yet comes across surprisingly put-together.
Tendency is the perfect soundtrack to a slow, bitter winter. I didn’t realize that during the summer when I first heard it, even though I already liked it. I even made the mistake of thinking it was warm, cozy even. But as December set in and the frigid winds and ice arrived, Hewn’s true essence revealed itself. There are two sets of initials credited, implying the project is a duo, which comes through in the many delicate layers of sluggish tape shuffle, wistful drones, and shadowy field recordings. The coldness isn’t total, mind you, and there are some beautiful albeit fleeting bits of sunlight streaked throughout. Frail but nonetheless flesh-and-blood ambient.

On the surface, Head Meat might seem like a rehash of tired trends in classic US noise: anonymous operations (though if you follow the clues, it’s not hard to identify the culprit), high-contrast xerox layouts, blown-out deck-minced masters, etc. There’s some truth to that observation, and it might be more of a downside if every single one of these tapes weren’t absolute fire—the Ants in the Afterbirth self-titled, Outdoor Horse Shrine’s Water Course, and the Executionists’ 
Run by sound artist Anne-F Jacques, presses précaires has been a reliable source for forward-thinking abstract music on cassette for half a decade now, with a varied output that straddles the border between the DIY and academic spheres. 2025’s showing was particularly strong, with impressive tapes by Bárbara González, Sun Yizhou and Tom Soloveitzik, Gudinni Cortina, and W K Werkowicz and Zheng Hao, as well as a.hop, a remote correspondence ensemble project led by Jacques herself. All releases from this year are available from
For those who may not know, I grew up in Cincinnati. It was where I first got into noise, so even though I’m elsewhere now it’s great to see new things happening in the scene I still have so much love for. Clangor is run by Black Corolla members Zach Collins and Lauryn Jones, originally an outlet for their own projects (Apple Cottage, Gangstalker, Otra Vez) but now expanded beyond that with a tape by the superb NYC project Mouths Agape. The Black Corolla / Slacking Lonely God C30 was my favorite split of the year (see 
In ABQ it seems that the noise, metal, and dungeon synth scenes form a loose triple Venn diagram, and right at the center of it is Malevolent Relics, a label/distro that produces and stocks the best of each. Though ops are currently on pause, 2025 saw the release of the Skafrenningur 3xCS box (see
Pube Provisional (don’t ask) is dedicated to the symbiotic faiths of green hue (I said don’t ask) and good old fashioned harsh noise. Home to Kale Van Reekum’s flagship moniker Met Glas and his duo with cofounder Jack Sinclaire, Pube, the Society plucks the best and brightest from around the globe: Peking Crash Team, Gemengung, Vincent Dallas. Though they only dropped one three tape batch this year, it was a heater, with top-shelf stuff from Snake Oil Merchants (international triple threat of Dallas+Geseling+Sisto Rossi), Outdoor Horse Shrine, and fellow Great White Norther Wasauksing Sniper. Also of note are the one-of-a-kind editions they hand-craft for the artists.

Would never have known about this if not for new-generation PNW weirdo Ķæ P. Rujhaan, who also operates the highly active 







Abbreviated on Soundcloud as
One of my personal highlights of 2025 so far was hosting the NYC date of the Great Men & Grateful Pawnbrokers tour, which was the first time Bay Area underground legend Darksmith played in the city. The
The convergence of many different stylistic strands in trap music is what makes
PinkPantheress is an artist I’ve always wanted to like but never quite gotten there with—until
Everyone to whom I’ve recommended
Chandelier




I was originally going to include this one on the 

The self-titled C92 from this new “collaborative sound project” is a sublime example of assemblage as artistic expression. Compiler Jaci Peterson presents two side-long programs consisting of scavenged snippets, YouTube clips, field recordings, and tape experiments that never fail to captivate. Peterson’s unpredictable yet deliberate arrangements sit somewhere between Sensitivity Training and Cody Brant’s Found Cassettes series with regard to how much unifying meaning one is inclined to find; various thematic threads emerge, but the most universal concern is with the joy of making our presence known, whether through music or storytelling or simply making noise, any possibility of failure be damned.



















































