After last year’s single release, ‘All These Empty Rooms’, we’re delighted to announce a full album from Veins Full Of Static on Machine Records. ‘A House Wrapped in Sleep’ will be available in digital and limited edition CD format on 2 August 2024. Veins Full Of Static is the ambient/drone project of Cardiff-based Jamie Philpin-Jones, who has been building an impressive body of work over the last 6-7 years. This has included solo and collaborative album releases and compilation tracks on great labels like Disintegration State, This Is It Forever, Waxing Crescent Records, Decaying Spheres, Difficult Art And Music, and Mailbox. We caught up with Jamie to discuss his new album. Machine: Tell me about your new album, A House Wrapped In Sleep. What is it all about? Jamie: Initially, the album wasn’t intended to be about anything. I’d just finished work on the album No Such Rust [released on Waxing Crescent last December], which dealt with grief and loss and all of that fun stuff, so I fancied an escape into music without an agenda. Just playing around with sounds for the sake of themselves. But as it came together a theme imposed itself while I wasn’t looking. I read an article that stuck with me about brain activity after death. Once the heart stops there’s a strong burst of brain activity and gamma waves in a pattern usually associated with lucid dreaming. I decided to explore a sort of temporary atheist’s afterlife – a time-dilated dream state conjured by the subconscious to sort of ease a person into the void. A House Wrapped in Sleep loosely follows someone’s journey from drifting into this state after death, their slowly becoming aware of their condition, their struggles to accept it and eventually their consciousness slowly disintegrating into nothing. Which is not quite the nice, light escape I was hoping for! Machine: It’s fascinating how ideas can emerge unexpectedly, often with a sense that they come from “somewhere else”. Creative practices can be a sort of of summoning of unknown forces, I think. Jamie: Yeah definitely. I try not to get too mystical about it but I can see why others do. When stuff suddenly clicks together it does feel like it's been conjured from somewhere or handed down from above. Machine: When we talked about your single ‘All These Empty Rooms’ last year, you mentioned you tend to have a strong sense of what songs are “about”. And you’ve mentioned some pretty deep themes. What do you think is behind wanting to craft these strong narratives through your music? Jamie: I think I need to have a sense of meaning in my songs because it took me a long time to find a creative outlet that suited me. I've got drawers and hard drives full of half-finished stories and poems and scripts and sets of lyrics. I thought whatever it was I was looking for would involve language, I never dreamed it'd be instrumental music! But there's still a need to convey something in the music, none of it feels finished until it has something of that in it. Even if the listener might not get anything of that meaning just from listening to it. Machine: Are there artists, musicians or otherwise, who inspire you in taking this approach? Jamie: In terms of influences I think artists like Biosphere and Loscil who do a lot of stuff focused on geography and elements come to mind, as well as Lawrence English who always has a strong sense of concept to his works. I really fell for his album The Peregrine about the book of the same name. I struggle to create anything as strongly related to nature or locations though - it always seems to come back to inner space, emotions and the workings of the mind. I can't seem to reach too far beyond that for whatever reason. Machine: There is a lot of angst these days about what counts as success, due in part to the terrible economics of streaming, as well as the positive side of streaming in opening up self-distribution options. You’ve been pretty busy in recent years, working with several different labels and some collaborations - with lots of notable releases. How do you think about those kind of questions, in terms of what it means for Veins Full Of Static? Jamie: I'll try not to go too long on this answer at it occupies my thoughts more than I'd like to admit! The current situation in DIY and independent music is pretty dire. Personally I still have most of my music on streaming despite their deeply unfair rates as I was never going to earn enough that way for it to make a difference to me either way and I like to have my music available in as many places as possible. It's hard enough to get heard without limiting that. And, though I have a love/hate relationship with the stats, being able to check and find that I've had a small surge in some far off place feels lovely. The idea that my music is being shared by a group of friends in somewhere seemingly random like Indonesia is beautiful enough to me to keep me going when it all feels a bit pointless. Because as much as I'd like to say the work is it's own reward I'd be lying - if that were the case I wouldn't bother releasing it at all, would I? In terms of what success looks like for me the answer will vary depending on what day you catch me on. There's an incredible number of people making this sort of stuff in the world right now. It's never been easier to create your own little musical world and open it up to the whole of humanity. But it's never been harder to get anyone to come and visit with all that competition. On my better days I keep that in mind and look for the connections and opportunities Veins Full Of Static brings. Being able to release on cool labels run by lovely people (and usually fine artists in their own right) like yourself is amazing. Getting played on radio shows and podcasts all over the world feels fantastic. I got to soundtrack a short film for BBC Wales last year and I'm hoping to get opportunities to do similar things. That's what success is for Veins Full of Static - making connections and opening doors to fulfilling projects. I like to think of my creative endeavours as tending a garden and as long as things like that keep blossoming I feel like I'm doing well. And getting visitors like those friends in Indonesia or the guy in Tokyo who bought every VFOS tape currently available on the Internet the other day feels amazing. But on my worst days I think that all sounds like wishy-washy bollocks, go look at the hard streaming numbers and want to all sell my gear and buy a train set or something! Machine: That's very much the same territory I see, I think a lot of people will relate. I have ended up thinking there is something bigger than just streaming at work here. For most of human history (and pre-history), art was pretty local (and for music, totally ephemeral). But in the 20th century globalisation and recording (to simplify a lot of stuff) created a sort of global stage and a level of success and huge audience for rock/pop measured in sales that is actually unprecedented. We've grown up with The Beatles and record sales as a yardstick of musical success, and all the other Boomer rock/pop, as if that is the only version of "success". Obviously it is a version of success, and others have achieved that level and will continue to do so (and good on them), but it is not a typical version of creativity or art or music. It attaches music to the idea of the entertainer/the celebrity/the star as well as to a recorded product you buy. By contrast, what I think is happening in the 21st century electronic music scene is a sort of folk movement... which is in many ways a return to a more typical way of doing music for humans. In that context, I think the rise of EMOM nights is very significant. Jamie: Yeah you've nailed a lot of my thoughts on the atomisation of culture/counter-culture in the 21st century. The trouble is the desire for massive shared experiences is still there and while artists like Taylor Swift achieve unfathomable popularity and influence the mirage of such success remains enticing for artists, so they keep chasing a big viral hit that'll help them 'break through' to a realm that doesn't really exist anymore. I like the idea of the electronic scene as a folk movement and stuff like EMOM's growing success is really heartening to see. It could do with a more sustainable online framework that can't be easily disrupted by the whims of narcissistic billionaires. There was a really nice burgeoning scene on Twitter that still hasn't quite recovered. Machine: Exactly! I’m actually a bit of a Swiftie but, to state what ought to be the obvious, that type of success is not really the right frame of reference for aspiring experimental electronic musicians! But at the same it’s hard to ignore sometimes, and all too easy to compare once you find yourself considering play counts and sales. Even the absolute legends of electronic music are also dwarfed by that comparison. Jamie: Oh yeah I was thinking about aspiring artists in general there, not sure many one-person-and-some-synths outfits are expecting to get Swift big! Machine: For sure. As a final question, what else is coming up for VFOS in 2024? Jamie: Aside from ‘A House Wrapped in Sleep’ I've got an exciting split release out in the summer on another label and I'm currently polishing off a couple of other albums, though I'm not sure when or where they'll surface. I think I might self-release one and try and find a home for the other but we'll see. And I'm hoping to play live a bit more and get a bit further afield than South Wales. I've got a set I've been working on for a bit and I'm hoping to give it an airing wherever will have me. I've also started an online hot sauce business () which is taking up a lot of my time. I've got some interesting ideas on how to do some unlikely crossing of the streams of music and hot sauce that I think will be fun - keep an eye out for those!

One early listener claimed this reminded him of early Sonic Youth!!!! We're not quite sure how that came about but, hey, as many have observed before (and after!) all sorts of things can be heard in The Utter because The Utter is The Utter is The Utter. Perhaps this album is less 'death', whatever that means, than the "The Semantic Verses" but it's no less 'Contemporary Death Jazz'. This new album is twelve new tracks of improvised death jazz mayhem delivered squarely in the current day, making it assuredly contemporary. Please allow me to introduce you all to our guests, some who have been here before and some new to The Utter. In running order, we have Kerorg (), Aitch, Dayal Patterson (), Mars, R*, Spider God () and Huxley, all of whom generously provided vocals. Also we have a guest musician on three of the tracks; KL Lassy brought her accordion to The Space Between and recorded some good old squeezebox. Who'd have thought that, eh? As ever, the bulk of the music has been recorded on the Doc's bass guitar and has been funnelled through a web of effects pedals resulting in the glorious noise we have here! The opening track "4 The Owl" was composed and is named, equivocally, in response to a call from The Owl himself for four-minute tracks for his at-the-time upcoming compilation Noisembryowl #4 Described as having breakcore rhythms, this track took the opus Untitled I from Demos (Jan 2023) as its inspiration. "Viking Sorg" plumbs the depths of the soul of the Viking abroad, as he mourns the homeland he has left behind. "Horn Of Abraxas" is inspired, lyrically at least, by the film "Mandy" where the aforementioned horn was tooted to summon the villains of the piece. Musically it comes from an entirely different place and was stranded alone in the wilderness until Spider God happened upon it and infused it with a spark of divinity. Oh, and can I tell you this as well... While chatting with Spider God it was revealed that injecting His divinity into this otherwise unremarkable and mortal track had nudged Him out of His comfort zone and had provided inspiration to record a new album Himself!!! Allow me to introduce you all to Fau5tu5, available at , which was written and recorded in a day of furious activity! "Corpsepaint" arose following a conversation with Dayal Patterson. The vocal track is taken from an interview he gave at Beyond The Gates festival discussing the evolution of the black metal aesthetic. "Storm" is inspired, if you will, by the herring gulls of St Ives, Cornwall, UK, and, indeed, features one or two of them. Their cacophony then acted as onward inspiration for our Italian colleague, Kerorg, to compose and perform the lyrics. "Supreme" is Aitch's interpretation of Cara Supreme (Giulio Cesare), blending some opera into the dissonance. An early listener commented that "The Bride Of Caracas" sounds felt like an ancient sea invasion with the sounds of the oars of the invading ship, but it is however inspired by a Venezualan tale of a bride who failed to reach her wedding, while Huxley's "Trap" serves as the perfect closing track, allowing you to escape back to normality, or is it? Hahaha hehehe Here are some download codes, added 23Oct 8r8v-58hr uqx8-emfa xgct-3te7 qkh3-h7f5 fnew-vevf md64-63ta bjy4-yxu7 5buj-3qav bal8-czr8 a7pt-wthn

I’ve been conjuring the material for a new project and it’s now ready to see the light of day. I present the premiere release of Gloomful, entitled “Sciomancy.” This project came together out of an intent to explore more minimal arrangements and more elemental synth/rompler sounds, and to fiddle around a bit closer to conventional dungeon synth stylings. Talog, Mystic Towers,Voormithadreth, Mausolei, Vannhellig, and a bit of the Berlin School all count among the influences. Initial exploratory tinkering developed into a desire to incarnate this as a full-fledged distinct project, loosely themed around Spiritualism, mediumship, and ghost lore. I hope you find it to be a haunting experience. -Gloomful / Old Moth Dreams --- The manor stood before me, its doors fashioned from violet mist and splintered wood. I did not know why I had come. I did not know how. Was I summoned? The doors opened and closed of their own accord, obedient only to a stubborn wind that whispered extraterrestrial punishments into my misaligned ears. I entered. The Devil's staircase. The chair of dead, waterlogged flesh. Rooms with neither beginning nor ending. Ten thousand corridors devoted exclusively to disappearance. Something murmured at the center of the edifice. A... A heart. Invisible. Black. The ribbed nucleus of a house that was alive only by virtue of having died long ago. A rotten organ. Its pipes disgorging pale worms of neither never nor elsewhere. Its opaque mist. Its orifices. Its cavities. Its impossible anatomy. Its refusal to exist according to any law I had ever survived. I drifted through wet earth and ash. My gaze had burst. My eyes were filled with abject rust older than memory. Every wall leaned inward as though listening. Every silence possessed organs. Every shadow anticipated me by centuries. It was midnight. It had always been midnight. It would remain midnight long after whatever still called itself my heart had forgotten how to beat. -Sir Kuliktavikt

Substak, that acolyte of ever-blurring, ever-transcending sonic visions, returns to us from beyond the mists with the seventh installment of Veils Falling, the beloved series of compilations / mixtapes / opium-laced sonic voyages adored by young and old alike, and by coatis, too. Another amuse-bouche in the shape of a primordial plunge into limbo; a fogged-up showcase of recent offerings from our beloved label... perhaps awakening a taste for further exploration, luring you ever deeper until you lose yourself along our ethereal, ghost-haunted, nightmare-ridden, spellbinding shores... Enjoy. -Sir Kuliktavikt --- TRACKLIST 1.pinkhydrangea - narwhal 2.THE GOLDEN SPIRAL - Asmodeus 3.Tansoku - Cartography Of A Broken Field 4.Ka'Bael - Pale Moon Over Necromantic Realms 5.Errant Static - The Pleasant Past 6. Cosmic Crypt - Dead Space I 7.Exsomnus - VI.V 8.UgUrGkuliktavikt - -1

When a transmission antenna was installed in a graveyard, a new channel began broadcasting...

1. VANYAMBA / 2. SMEAGOB / 3. MUBISMUSIC / 4. Saishō 最小 / 5 JABE LEDOUX / 6. THE VISITATION / 7. LGDK / 8. EL_MASMORE / 9. RDKPL / 10. RATé /

'An Owl In The Noisy Sky' continues. It felt like a nice time to bring this series back... especially after the long overdue refresh of the artwork for the first 6. This is the first 'Noisy Sky' collection since November 2023 (I didn't realise it had been SO long!). 13 compilation submissions and remixes, made over the course of a year. Big thanks to all the labels and projects that inspired this collection. No rush, but I can highly recommend in coming years you go to check out all the compilations and releases listed below; from Nomad Sky Diaries, Blod & Heathens, <1, IFAR, Plataforma, Zazie, Argali, Hamfuggi, LOUDsilence, L'Abeille Cool and Ocher Sounds. Please enjoy, and thank you for being here. Paul

Written and Recorded in October 2025

Monolithic Aeons is an industrial drone/doom metal project that now presents a comprehensive compilation of all its recorded tracks. This release gathers the full sonic journey — from crushing, feedback-laden drones to slow, melancholic doom passages, all laced with post‑industrial textures and eerie atmospheric layers. Spanning both earlier raw material and later refined compositions, the compilation serves as a definitive archive of the project’s heavy, meditative, and dystopian soundscapes. Expect extended immersive pieces, visceral guitar weight, and a haunting blend of mechanical noise and funeral‑pace riffage — a complete testament to the monolithic vision behind the name.

"The eternal silence of these infinite spaces frightens me." ― Blaise Pascal Cosmic Crypt returns... or rather, sinks deeper. Deeper into the opaque darkness of those dead interstellar spaces where nothing should breathe, nothing should remember, nothing should wait. But Nature abhors a vacuum, and Anti-Nature does too. Something occupies the emptiness. Something has always occupied it. Ancient, impossible, spectral things without names or centuries, things belonging neither to matter nor dream, things under no obligation whatsoever to obey the miserable little laws we have written for Reality. They sleep there, perhaps, folded into distances so immense that the human mind mistakes their silence for absence. There are things the human eye was simply never constructed to see, and things which, once seen, would make science suddenly seem very small, very young, almost touchingly naïve. Things that would force us to reconsider the comforting geometry of existence—the stars, the planets, the beautiful mathematical distances between them—and especially what might inhabit those distances. For the void is not empty. It is merely dark enough for us to pretend that it is. On Umbriel, beneath the blackened ice of Wunda crater, the Great Old Ones do not die. Their monstrous, deformed, grinning faces remain imprisoned beneath geological eternities of frozen darkness, their impossible anatomies petrified in positions no living organism should be capable of assuming. Motionless forever, we tell ourselves. Dead because they do not move. Harmless because they do not answer. And somewhere beneath kilometres of ancient ice, something remembers how to move. Perhaps this is the only revelation awaiting us beyond the familiar light of our little world: that there was never any dead space at all. That the darkness between celestial bodies is filled with old dreams, frozen gods, incorporeal parasites and memories belonging to things born before memory itself. That every telescope we point toward the heavens is merely another candle carried foolishly into an infinite abandoned corridor. The Universe is an enormous haunted house floating in the abyss we have mistakenly named Reality. And we have barely opened the first door. -Sir Kuliktavikt

I found it in the attic. A forgotten mixtape from the house's previous owner?

Another moon, another haunting... Our beloved architect of forsaken sonic mists returns once more, for our infinite and slightly unholy listening pleasure. More Veils... falling yet again... Fragments of our collective past, unearthed from places where memory itself has long since ceased to breathe. Half-buried melodies, orphaned voices, spectral remnants of forgotten things — gathered by the supreme custodian of shadows and woven, unwoven, then woven again into these slow veils of ebony and unreason. A gentle funeral procession through corridors that perhaps never existed. Pleasant, almost tender... yet quietly wrong. Familiar shapes drift behind the fabric. Something remembers us from the other side. A slow descent through the ancient sap of ECHØVEIL RECORDS — where dead sounds dream, old ghosts hum beneath the floorboards, and every veil eventually falls into another. -Sir Kuliktavikt --- TRACKLIST 1.UgUrGkuliktavikt - L'atmosphère de cet après-lieu 2.Fabio Keiner - Winter Solstice 3.VHI - 𑗔𑗌𑗔 4.Doomseer - Vigil in the Cavern of Erebus 5.VEILED & TrailOfGhosts - Dark Star 6.Gloomful - Hooded Apparition In The Stairwell 7.THE GOLDEN SPIRAL - Barbatos 8.UgUrGkulɨktavɨkt - ɨ Oneɨrɨkt ɨɨ ReMOTɨLPɨNKULɨKT ɨɨɨ

Atrium Carceri, Cities Last Broadcast and God Body Disconnect collaborates on this foggy noir album. The invitation came in a cinnamon scented envelope. It had been years since your last visit to the hotel, before the headlines of murder had shut it down. Was it re-opened after all these years? A bottle of pills later, your car pulled up outside the old building. The lights were on, struggling to cut through the heavy fog. Distant voices and music lingered like smoke as you entered the lobby. Miles to Midnight is a Dark Jazz Ambient album with a Lynchian Noir feel: A hotel trapped between two worlds and a detective with a traumatized past. God Body Disconnect's live jazz drums and cinematic wall-of-sound builds the foundation of the mysterious hotel. Cities Last Broadcast brings ghostly tape loops and melodies stuck in time. Atrium Carceri dusts off his old pianos and shatters reality with low bass rumbles and brings you into the other side of the hotel. For lovers of smokey soundtracks to unwritten movies.