Back catalogue:

Review: Yeule (Nat Cmiel) is something of a sonic scrapyard varmint, scouring the lost wastes for augmentable audio parts perhaps useable in their madcap experiments. An avant-garde spin doctor of ash-faced, death-ray-desert-bomb glitch-pop, they've kept their place at the knife-edge of innovation, blending genres and non-genres at the violent vanguard where sounds remain in constant, slipped flux. In the lineage of Machine Girl, ecolagbohrsac2021 or Hakushi Hasegawa, 2022's Glitch Princess laid nutritious ground for Cmiel's now evermore fractious work, Evangelic Girl Is A Gun, which hears the somewhat alter-egoic Yeule now delve into the complexity of a fragmented identity, embracing the duality of light and shadow while echoing surreal animes, such as Serial Experiments Lain and Angel Egg. The LP reimagines Yeule as a haunting figure, exploring ego deaths and transformations in partnership with visual artist Vasso Vu.

Review: Non-binary performance artist Nat Cmiel from Singapore, often also known as yeule, continues to push the boundaries of glitch-pop and alt-electronica with their latest release. After solidifying their reputation as a trailblazer with their sophomore album Glitch Princess and its follow-up softscars, Cmiel takes a more daring, raw approach here. It's a cathartic exploration of self-destruction, trapped identities and the dark undercurrents of post-modernity, where Cmiel's ethereal vocals intertwine with dissonant beats, creating a paradox of beauty and tension.The sprawling atmospherics of 'Tequila Coma' and '1967' unfurl into a liquid haze, giving way to the razor-edged urgency of 'VV' and 'Dudu', which channel a palpable, jittery rhythm that commands attention. Collaborating with the likes of A.G. Cook and Mura Masa, the album navigates between haunting introspection and electrifying energy. It's a striking nod to Cmiel's ability to balance vulnerability and sonic experimentation, presenting a portrait of the artist struggling with the very image they've built.

Review: Swedish-Japanese vocalist Yukimi Nagano (best known as the lead singer of the post-punk and electronica group Little Dragon) shares her debut album on Ninja Tune, embodying the best of her charms as a solo artist whose space away from the band allows her ample time to reflect on her own emotions. Born of the first production 'Sad Makeup' - a song about the inevitably, always-botched attempt to suppress and sweep sad feelings under the rug, and the ways this backfires when around close friends - the entire album in fact threads a narrative yarn centring on the overcoming of "darkest nights", externalised in the repeated mention in the lyrics of Sweden's long, dark and shivery winters. Taking cues from everyone to filmmaker Ingmar Bergman to collaborator Lianne La Havas, Nagano wears her vulnerability on her sleeve.