Back catalogue: Leftfield

Review: Developed as off-the-cuff cassette overdubs, work taking place in Manchester and Massachusetts, combined with syncopated vocals, Human Engineering very much lives up to its name. Narrated by Rick Myers, with long-time collaborators Andy Votel and Sean Canty in charge of the noises, it's a strange place to spend some time but it's also oddly beautiful. At first ear, the aesthetic feels rough and mechanical, definitely anything but human. But as things draw us further in to whatever this plain is, the organic at the root of everything rises to the surface. Suddenly, the obtuse noises no longer sound alien, and instead have taken on their true form - products of people, perhaps artefacts from a time we're about to forget. One in which machines were ours, not their own.

Review: Legendary Finnish label Sahko returns with a curveball on its sub-label Puu, meaning wood or tree. While the three artists featured on this EP may seem like unlikely bedfellows, American minimal producer Bruno Pronsato, French fourth world explorer Romeo Poirier & British ambient producer Memotone, their sounds are united in a quest for the organic, the tropical & the gaps between genres. Bruno Pronsato's 'Above The Laundrette (Manieres Bizarres mix)' is an exploration of organic percussion, treading similar paths to percussionist Eli Keszler. The second track is a welcome extended version of 'Thalassocratie' from Poirier's excellent Hotel Naga LP. The pick of the three goes to Memotone's 'The Way In(side)' which sounds like a lost balearic cut from Jon Hassell's seminal Dream Theory In Malaya.

Review: The twelfth studio release from Manchester duo Marconi Union reaffirms why they remain such a quietly vital force in ambient music. Formed in 2003, the pair's latest work arrives after a two-year process of reorientation i one that saw them scrap old habits, test new material live, and ultimately return to the atmospheric instinct that first defined them. The result is a seamless 55-minute composition split into nine movements: fluid, immersive, and full of emotional nuance. It's a brand new release that spans sequencer-driven passages, low-lit drone work and impressionistic electronics, all stitched together with an elegant sense of pacing. 'Eight Miles High Alone', the first piece completed and shared publicly, sets the tone with a solitary pulse and slow-building tension i its clarity and weightlessness shaping much of what follows. The music unfolds without force, evoking both disquiet and release. Though wordless, the journey speaks volumes. A sense of modern anxiety hovers throughout, yet it's counterbalanced by warmth, space and stillness. After years of refining their sound across acclaimed releases and multimedia collaborations, Marconi Union deliver some of their most affecting work to date i not by reinventing themselves, but by rediscovering the beauty of doing less, slowly, and with purpose.

Review: Built as a continuous 55-minute suite split into nine movements, Marconi Union's The Fear Of Never Landing hears the duo recapture a state of exhilarating levity. Their 12th studio album, it finds them in refreshed head and soundspace, having come a heck of a long way since their 2003 debut Under Wires And Searchlights. The record emerged slowly over two years, during which the Manchester duo (Jamie Crossley, Duncan Meadows) grappled with creative uncertainty, reconnecting with their foundations through live experimentation. The catalyst came while scoring the cult 1975 film Downhill Motion, an experience that rekindled their affinity for cinematic composition and set the tone for this surefire introspection aid. From 'Eight Miles High Alone', a hypnotism which finds its inducer in sequencer-driven pulses, evoking isolation, weightlessness and quiet tension.

Review: Madrid duo Pablo Miron and Juan Vacas return with their second album, En Perpetua, which delves deeper into their signature decayed collage and psycho-acoustic soundscape while building on their debut Of No Fixed Abode. This time out they also embrace new creative confidence and the possibilities offered by a fresh Madrid studio and use violin, harmonica, voices, guitars, a looper, FM radio and diverse array of field recordings-from the Spanish countryside to exhibition sounds-to bring it to life. They craft eight re-pitched meditations that explore fractured music and rhythmic patterns which unfold through their distinctive, open-ended and immersive tonal journeys.

Review: Serbia's Abul Mogard inaugurates his Soft Echoes imprint - after many a career-spanning stopover with Ecstatic, VCO and Light-years - with Quiet Pieces, an inward-looking suite unearthing stillness and submerged emotions scraped from the edges of memory. Assembled from archival sketches and fragments inspired by a late uncle's collection of 78rpm classical and opera records, the album reimagines faded moments through manipulated samples played at altered speeds, filtered through effects, and folded into new compositions. The result is a dream-static fusion of past and present, where Mogard's own recollections blur with an avuncular other's. The pieces shimmer with spectral density and tactile distortion, edging into abstractions influenced in part by Phill Niblock's Boston Tenor Index; Mogard pushes into rawer and rawer dissonances over the record's course. Marja de Sanctis's cover photograph, taken at the Temple of Jupiter Anxur, captures that same interplay of decay, reverence, and resonance.