Back catalogue:

Review: Celebrating its 30th anniversary this Record Store Day, 'Original Soundtracks 1' is a bold, imaginative collaboration between British ambient pioneer Brian Eno and Irish band U2 under the moniker Passengers. Blurring the line between ambient experimentation and cinematic storytelling, the album features 15 tracks that were all conceived as soundtracks for fictional films. Highlights include the haunting 'Miss Sarajevo' with Luciano Pavarotti and contributions from Howie B and Holi and this remastered anniversary edition comes on recycled black vinyl. An adventurous 1995 release that stands up now as an atmospheric, genre-blurring work and a rare and inspired detour in U2's discography.

Review: Pom Poko have matured significantly with their new album Champion, which is a rather profound and uplifting post-punk effort. Vocalist Ragnhild Fangel Jamtveit, bassist Jonas Krovel, guitarist Martin Miguel Almagro Tonne, and drummer Ola Djupvik are more connected than ever here both personally and musically. Unlike many bands that use the term "family" all too loosely, Pom Poko has truly become a tightly-knit unit through extensive touring and what they say is a rigorously democratic songwriting process. Their focus remains on staying true to their artistic values here while also pushing the boundaries of their dynamic and often chaotic sound.

Review: Puma Blue, the project of South-London-born, Atlanta-based Jacob Allen, moves in a starkly different direction with this latest release. Stripping away the layered trip-hop, jazz, and electronica influences of previous works, he now focuses on a more direct and vulnerable form of songwriting. With just his guitar and voice, Allen crafts an album that feels intimate, raw, and deeply personal. Each track is a careful balance of simplicity and complexity. On 'Tapestry', the narrative unfolds like a dense, aching reflection, while 'Hotel Room' captures a moment of quiet melancholy with an almost confessional tone. In contrast, 'In the Absence of You' is stark in its honesty, delivering a minimalist sentiment that resonates with painful clarity. The absence of the full band setup places the weight of emotion solely on Allen's shoulders, allowing his vocal delivery and guitar work to shine. The result is a profoundly affecting listen, one that's less about expansive sound and more about the intimate space between notes, where every breath and pause feels significant. It's a deeply personal exploration of solitude and longing, executed with haunting simplicity.