Back catalogue: Leftfield

Review: Pierre Bastien has a strong team record of interesting collaborations. He's done stuff with fashion designer and scent mogul Issey Miyake, legendary singer and composer Robert Wyatt, and the enigmatic electronic producer and reality-shifter Aphex Twin, releasing no less than three full length records on the latter's landmark label, Rephlex. "A mad musical scientist", the Guardian once quipped, and C(or)N(e)T doesn't break from that tradition. Instead, it offers some of the most abstract and strange, beguiling and fascinating sounds we've heard in a while. At least a few of which have been made on self-made, bespoke pieces of equipment. At a push, you might label this jazz, for the simple fact it's so free-form and avant-garde. Realistically, though, it sounds like the noises that might happen if someone attempted to tame a pack of rogue electronic hubbub-chatting things in a vaguely structured way. "Thank fuck for Pierre Bastien", the Quietus once said. We happily concur.

Review: A split release featuring two distinct yet complementary compositions by Francois J. Bonnet and Sarah Davachi. French composer Bonnet's 'Banshee' is a journey to the edges of the old world, where the boundaries between nature and human presence blur. Drawing on field recordings made in the Inner Hebrides, he weaves an aural tableau where the calls of seabirds intertwine with the mournful wail of the wind and the gentle lapping of water against the shore merges with the distant drone of a boat engine. The piece unfolds in seven interwoven movements, each capturing a different facet of the landscape's character. Meanwhile, Canadian artist Davachi's 'Basse Brevis' is a minimalist exploration of timbre, space and duration. Through subtle shifts in texture and harmony, Davachi creates a work that is both precise and evocative, its slowly evolving soundscapes inviting deep listening and contemplation. The piece's restrained yet poignant character creates a gentle tension, blurring the lines between instrumental and concrete approaches to sound. A compelling example of the power of sound to evoke place and emotion, offering two distinct yet complementary perspectives on the relationship between humans and the natural world.

Review: You know we're all in trouble if Daniel Brandt starts making albums about the Doomsday Clock - now closer than ever to midnight, and Armageddon - and whether or not the Earth will survive us. More than just a record, not only does this reflect the darkest of the Brandt Brauer Frick legend's oeuvre, thematically and in moments aurally, it also represents the latest in his long list of defining work and groundbreaking projects from the artist. The LP is one aspect, an apocalyptic live rave show another, where fans and masochists alike can indulge in a multimedia presentation of end times. Sticking to the sounds, though, Brandt again shows himself to be a true electronic maestro here, from the earthy wooded percussive loops of 'Resistance', to the droning string funnels on 'Addicted', 'Steady''s rolling post-club depth, and the opening alarm call future tech-step of 'Paradise OD'. So, if it does all come down to this, at least we're bowing out on a sonic high.

Review: Melancholy maestro Brock Van Wey aka Bvdub returns with more immersive and beautifully sad sounds on his latest album In Iron Houses. It is an ambient work that is far too evocative to serve simply as aural wallpaper. Opener 'Madness To Their Methods' for example has a vocal swirling about the synthscapes that is utterly arresting and conveys great emotional pain. 'The Broken Fixing The Broken' is another lament of epic proportions and 'Iron Houses At Night - Star Track' has a little sense of hope in the brighter melodies and another vocal, which this time carries love not loss. 'Perpetual Emotion Machine' shuts down with subtle celestial celebration.