Back catalogue:

Review: With a title inspired by the utterances of The Oracle of Delphi, a cult of female priestesses who reportedly "changed the course of civilisation" by inhaling volcanic vapours, it's clear that Lee Burtucci and Olivia Block's first collaborative album is rooted in paganistic visions and experimental mysticism. It's comprised of two lengthy tracks, each accompanied by edited 'excerpts', and combines Burtucci's experimental synth sounds and tape loops with Block's processed vocalisations and hazy field recordings. Dark and suspenseful, with each extended composition delivering a mixture of mind-mangling electronics, creepy ambience and musical elements doused in trippy effects, it sits somewhere between the charred "illbient" of DJ Spooky and the deep space soundscapes of the late Pete Namlook.

Review: London-based New Zealander Arjuna Oakes impresses hugely with this debut album, a contemporary soul and jazz fusion, global folk, electronica and post-rock motifs all woven in. Like any good LP, While I'm Distracted is a deeply personal journey exploring common themes of vulnerability, identity and hope in a world shaped by ever-more existential angst and social media stress. We're told that Arjuna approached this full-length album like a filmmaker crafting a feature and aiming to evoke emotion over concept. Performing vocals, piano, synths and arranging strings himself, he also leads a talented ensemble of collaborators who help him on this emotional odyssey.

Review: Steven Umoh aka London-based Nigerian singer Obongjayar is back with Paradise Now, a sophomore album that is a bold blurring of pop, punk, Afrobeat, funk, dance and folk into a colourful and coherent new sound. Crafted with producers Kwes Darko and Beach Noise, the album was recorded between London and LA so has a global spirit with universal emotional depth. It was designed to play from start to finish on a night out so is both a party record and a Trojan Horse with infectious grooves concealing layers of complexity and introspection. It's Obongjayar at his most adventurous yet and explores what modern, global pop can sound like in 2025.

Review: Originally released in 2005 and celebrating its 20th anniversary, Ghost Reveries would serve as the eighth full-length from Swedish progressive metal legends Opeth. Following the 2002/2003 two-part project which showcased their most malevolent form on Deliverance and then a resolutely pleasant prog rock opus with Damnation, this follow up sought to rectify one side with the other; coalescing into a masterwork which simultaneously was regarded by longtime fans as a career height, whilst the expanded distribution from signing with major label Roadrunner opened them up to an entire new wave of unsuspecting ears. Marking their first album since 1999's Still Life to not be produced by Porcupine Tree's Steve Wilson, instead duties fell to Jens Bogren (Katatonia, At The Gates, Dimmu Borgir) who helped Mikael Akerfeldt and his cohorts to rediscover their death metal origins yet channelled through their more melancholic sensibilities. Boasting some of their most vital pieces from the epic 10-minute opener 'Ghost Of Perdition', to the even lengthier fan favourite 'Reverie/Harlequin Forest', as well as the equally adored 'The Grand Conjuration', the album has long since been held aloft as the perfect modern entry point to the world of Opeth. The project would also be the first to include keyboardist Per Wiberg as a "permanent" member while serving as their final endeavour to feature both drummer Martin Lopez and long-time guitarist Peter Lindgren.

Review: Nostalgia can be a dangerous thing. We don't need to cite examples why. In contrast, retrospect is important and retro sounds are, today, often capable of making us think about how we saw the future in the past. In some cases, that means staring down the barrel of the big question: did we heed any warnings, or has all the artwork and movies and music that sought to raise flags over the disappearance of humanity and individuality at the hands of 'progress' been for nought? Summoning the spirit of Depeche Mode, Eurythmics and more, Orphia present a stunning synth album which is at once catchy and poppy, even dance floor ready, but saturated in a kind of melancholy and juxtaposition of electronic and human. Robotic rhythms topped with organic emotions, there's a feeling of spiralling headfirst into lightning paced chaos and disorientation as the collection plays out. And that's about as apt as things get right now.