Under the alias Daedelus, Alfred Darlington has been an instigator of electronic music culture for the past 25+ years. A fore-figure of Los Angeles' Beat Scene, they have released 20+ LPs, countless EPs, remixes, and additional productions on labels such as Ninja Tune, WARP, and Brainfeeder. As a performer they're synonymous with controllers, from the grid Monome to computer-free modular, and have played over 1,000+ shows on 6 continents at events ranging from Boilerroom to festival mainstages such as Coachella.

Dj at Dublab, founding faculty member for the Berklee College of Music's EDI (Electronic Digital Instrument) program, and S.E.T.I. artist in residence.

Daedelus has begun to live up to their Greek mythological namesake.

Professor Purple///Jeremy Malvin///Freshman at University of Michigan studying percussion.
Gonna make some remixes and put em up here.

Cate Le Bon is an artist hailing from Carmarthenshire, rural West Wales. Be it on her more minimalist, acoustic-leaning 2009 debut album Me Oh My or critically acclaimed, liquid-riffed 2013 LP Mug Museum as well as 2016s Crab Day and the Mercury Award nominated Reward, Cate Le Bon’s solo work — and indeed also her production work, such as that carried out on the recent John Grant album, Boy From Michigan, or  Deerhunter's Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared?  (4AD, January 2019) — has always resisted pigeonholing, walking the tightrope between krautrock aloofness and heartbreaking tenderness; deadpan served with a twinkle in the eye, a flick of the fringe and a lick of the Telecaster.

New album Pompeii bears a storied title summoning apocalypse, but the metaphor eclipses any “dissection of immediacy,” says Le Bon. Sonically minimal in parts, its lyrics jog between self-reflection and direct address. Written primarily on bass and composed entirely alone in an “uninterrupted vacuum,” Le Bon plays every instrument (except drums and saxophones) and recorded the album largely by herself with long-term collaborator and co-producer Samur Khouja in Cardiff, Wales.

The songs of Pompeii feel suspended in time, both of the moment and instant but reactionary and Dada-esque in their insistence to be playful, satirical, and surreal. From the spirited, strutting bass fretwork of “Moderation”, to the sax-swagger of “Running Away”; a tale exquisite in nature but ultimately doomed (The fountain that empties the world / Too beautiful to hold), escapism lives as a foil to the outside world. Pompeii’s audacious tribute to memory, compassion, and mortal salience is here to stay.

Brooklyn-based independent record label
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Incapable of repetition, going by unobserved, terrestrial existence, has no love life

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