Back in stock: Progressive Rock

Review: US art rockers The Mars Volta's latest project reveals an ambitious dual-disc journey, encompassing their sprawling range of experimentation. Early tracks like 'Fin' and 'Reina tormenta' establish a dense atmosphere, full of the band's signature unpredictability, with fluid transitions between moments of stark aggression and delicate, jazz-inflected interludes. The album's progression is marked by tracks such as 'Mictlan' and 'Nefilbata', where intricate rhythms are paired with surreal, often dissonant melodies, evoking the mysticism and chaos of their thematic inspirations. As the second disc kicks off, 'Celaje' and 'Vocifero' provide a cinematic depth, layering intricate percussion with droning, otherworldly synths, shifting the mood into darker territories before 'Mito de los trece cielos' bursts through with frenzied energy. The reprise of 'Cue the Sun' and the closing track, 'Lucro sucio', bring the journey to a close, suggesting a moment of reflection within the album's labyrinthine structure. While the album's tracklist is as labyrinthine as their sound, what stands out is the way The Mars Volta remain resolutely themselvesieffortlessly blending their psychedelic rock heritage with new, complex influences, creating something fresh, while never losing the raw intensity that made their earlier work so iconic. This album feels less like a return and more like a rediscovery of what makes them so vital.

Review: Few cities rival Portland in terms of the concentration of top quality independent record labels. And its native Topshelf Records is an absolute treasure trove of local and international talent, with the likes of Cool American, Eerie Summer and now Toe from their roster real standouts. The Tokyo-based post rock band - who produce mainly instrumental music - started out in the year 2000 and have gone on to release half a dozen EPs and four albums. It was obvious from the start that they had what it takes to be in this game for the long haul. This, their first EP, originally released in 2003, is now getting its fourth pressing. It's an idiosyncratic listen: there's nods to the likes of the genre's trailblazers (Explosions in The Sky and Mogwai), but also a truly distinctive drumming style. It's almost as if polyrhythmic legend Tony Allen was behind the kit at times. You hear these unorthodox, stylish fills underpinning the contemplative, beautifully affecting guitar tones and it works brilliantly.

Review: Le Kiosque D'orphie was located first at 7 Rue Gregoire de Tours, and then 20 Rue des Tournelles, Paris. Not a label, nor a publisher, the facility would allow people to press their own vinyl, often with very short runs - say, somewhere between 50 and 500 copies - and release an album to the world. If that sounds exciting today, when where pressing plants are overloaded, wait times are huge and costs so prohibitive small batches shouldn't apply, it was similarly revelatory back then. Led by Georges Batard, a Neumann tube engraver was used to produce original acetates which were then sent off to actual production factories, a process that often appealed to provincial and experimental composers. The process of diving into this overlooked but pivotal part of French electronic and popular music history began around 2018, and continued in earnest until 23 tracks were chosen to represent the breadth of work produced and the gamut of styles and sounds. Now, here they are.