A dark ambient journey composed of slowly evolving and interwoven feedback drones that submerge into the unconsciousness.
Recommended listening: asleep (if you like unsettling nightmares)
This work is meant to be a single piece: track 8 “Stream of Unconsciousness” is the continuous mix
Recorded at Home Office Studios in 2025
+/-0: Modular Synth
Cover photography: +/-0
It is yet another new artist joining the MiMi Records family.
In this strange space–time condition saturated with information, where the excess of data overrides sensory experience, the Anthropocene no longer presents itself as a future hypothesis but as an immediate, almost physical presence, breathing down our necks.
It is within this horizon of slow collapse — ecological, technological, and symbolic — that over the past decade Nuno Afonso, under the heteronym Falésia, has been searching for liminal sonic territories: landscapes at times volcanic, at times stratospheric, where beauty is still reassembled out of strangeness and deviation.
Música Pobre emerges as one of these singular microcosms: a technological reality that insists on remaining primitive, almost archaic, as if electronics were here less an instrument of progress and more a trace — a remainder, an active ruin.
Between echoes of Mark Fisher’s theoretical formulations, broadcasts from distant and exotic radios, and a panoply of electroacoustic devices, a piece takes shape, divided into two sides that are also two visions of the same world: a fracture, rather than an opposition.
Koen Daigaku opens MiMi Records’ 2026 catalog with this EP that explores atmosphere, patience, and emotional scale.
Across expansive compositions, Daigaku blends sustained tones, gentle harmonics, and slow-moving melodies into immersive soundscapes that feel both intimate and vast.
Eureka invites listeners to pause, breathe, and drift, capturing a sense of elevation and calm that resonates long after the final note fades, with quiet confidence and refined compositional restraint throughout.
A must listen!!!
Pickups and Porsches, on the same street,
>From the left and the right, in the middle they meet,
One belies labor, and one portrays wealth –
Both reflect life and all that is dealth.
Featuring a pickup, a Porsche, and effects.
The Necrophile Hummingbird non profit netlabel presents 7 Marvels by Valérie Bourquin and Ed End.
“Essential Music for Organic Music Lovers”
Recorded and mixed in Franche-Comté in November 2025.
Sometimes the sonic worlds of certain people collide, and albums like 7 Marvels are created.
The artwork was created using a Marvel comix hijack done with woodblock print by a Kathmandu artist, to incorporate it into our own culture is a clever way to combat cultural imperialism. So special thanks to Bardo Matrix, the publishing house founded by Angus MacLise and Ira Cohen, which published Cohen’s 7 Marvels.
Dedicated to those who refuses that war become their reality and know that despite the whole History horror, it seems still not enough for humanity to learnt.
So we hope each one will struggle, by any ways possible, against the militarism and all the wars.
Di karya ini, COFFEE FAITH menggandeng Jovan dari I See The Sound Project. Kolaborasi ini menghadirkan sentuhan unik lewat penggunaan Tube Harp buatan tangan Jovan sendiri—alat musik yang memberi karakter suara organik, hangat, dan berbeda dari rilisan-rilisan sebelumnya.
“Mentas” adalah pertemuan dua dunia: eksplorasi sonik COFFEE FAITH dan eksperimen visual-audio I See The Sound Project yang mengiringi percobaan COFFEE FAITH dalam mengawali babak barunya.
Another debut in the label’s catalog. Ryohei Kurihara releases his two-track mini EP titled “Afterimage of Words, a Place Beyond Return”, bringing us his ambient drone, echoing traces of his previous works.
The record sounds like sonic shadows that linger in memory, guiding us toward a territory where return is impossible—only slow, radiant contemplation in gentle waves of sound.
It offers nearly 20 minutes of layered sonorities that reveal an emotional space where silence breathes between grainy textures. Kurihara shapes frequencies with meditative precision, allowing each drone to unfold like a blurred memory.
The result is a sensorial crossing that deepens the meaning of the title, where words disappear but sensations remain to this day.
Substak is the alias of Kostas Staikos, a sound artist based in Athens, Greece. His work moves through the deeper end of electronic music – drone ambient, space ambient, dub ambient, electronica and hypnotic minimalism – always shaped by a sense of inward movement. In Greek there is a verb, εμβαθύνω, meaning “to deepen”, and this perfectly captures the core of his practice: a continual descent into texture, resonance and the subterranean pulse of sound. For Kostas, Substak is less a name than a method – “sub” for low frequencies and introspective moods, “stak” from his own name. An abstract container for experiments, escapes and the slow building of a personal sonic language.
LR Friberg is a Swedish composer, mastering engineer and narrative artist whose work bridges sound and speculative fiction. Her music begins in mathematical processes – cellular automata generating evolving harmonic structures – and grows into immersive, emotionally driven ambient landscapes. Each piece functions as both music and world-building: sonic fragments of the ongoing fictional universe she writes, where light, place and connection shape atmosphere as much as melody. Her focus is precision, mood and storytelling through sound.
Though coming from different angles, Substak and LR share something essential: music as escape, experimentation and dialogue. Kostas describes collaboration as a natural way to trade ideas and deepen sound. LR finds that Kostas’ textures integrate flawlessly into her frameworks, opening spaces she wouldn’t reach alone. The admiration is mutual – LR is one of Kostas’ favorite artists to work with, and she sees every collaboration with him as an invitation into new terrain. Together, they create ambient that is both grounded and atmospheric, abstract and emotional – a meeting point where deep minimalism and narrative generativity merge into one evolving sound.
***
She’d been coming to the fjord every morning that week.
The city behind her stirred and hissed. Gulls shrieking over dumpsters, tram line clattering in rehearsal for rush hour. Bells rang out from the cathedral, mistimed and overlapping, like no one had agreed what hour it was anymore.
But out here, by the water, time did something else. It slowed. Not gently. More like a held breath. More like waiting.
Trine leaned against the railing, fingers curled around warm steel.
“I used to think peace would feel like sleep,” she said quietly, not looking up. “But it doesn’t. It feels like aftermath. Like the pressure that settles after the shattering stops.”
A silence answered. The kind that wasn’t empty, just unseen.
“I can track calm the way I used to track anomalies. There’s data in it. Repeating patterns. Subtle recursions. A kind of… harmonic delay. Not static. Not passive. Just a system cooling slowly, pretending it isn’t still under load.”
The wind shifted slightly, brushing the back of her neck. She didn’t shiver, but her breath caught, like someone had just stepped up behind her. Like something was about to speak.
“Stillness lies,” she said, lower now. “It tricks you into thinking nothing’s moving. But all the while, pressure builds. Currents gather.”
A ripple formed far down the fjord. Not wind. Not current. Too precise.
Trine watched it. Didn’t follow it with her eyes, just… marked it. Like you do with a noise in a dark house.
“Maybe that’s all there is now,” she said. “Residual motion. Echoes with memory. The shape left behind after a convergence.”
She closed her eyes. The world didn’t vanish.
But it did watch. Not hostile. Not kind. Just… observant.
“I don’t need the world to disappear anymore,” she whispered. “Just give me pause. Enough to decide if I still belong in it.”
She opened her eyes. Stayed still. Waited.
Then, finally, turned. Not with urgency. Not with fear. But like someone who knew she’d been seen, and didn’t need to run.
The city waited behind her.
And something else, just outside knowing, waited with it.
The train moved like breath held just below the surface. Its low hum vibrated through the bones of the carriage, steady and almost imperceptible. More rhythm than sound, more presence than noise. Outside, the world passed in dissolving layers.
Norway, then Sweden. But no hard border. Just a slow merging of landscape, a quiet shift in the light.
Forests, thick with pine rose like sleeping giants, then opened without warning into lakes, still, black, mirror-like. They caught the last threads of evening like secrets too soft to speak aloud. In the water, the sky folded back into itself, perfect and inverted. Hills floated upside-down. Trees had double roots. It was hard to tell what was reflection and what was real.
Now and then, a village blurred past. Red-painted houses. Green, damp gardens. Fences wrapped in ivy. Curtains drawn halfway closed, as if the dusk were something to be filtered rather than embraced. Smoke curled faintly from chimneys that looked too delicate for fire.
Golden light moved across the train windows. Not from inside, not from any lamp, but from the outside world gilding the glass. It cast halos where there should be none. The air inside the carriage thickened.
And then…
Chris blinked. A flash of confusion passed over his face like a short-circuited dream. His accent, all Texan resonance tempered by too many books and long thinking hours, rose into the stillness.
“Okay… how the hell did I end up here?”
His voice cut the silence but didn’t break it.
Fabian turned in his seat, slow, like someone coming up from underwater.
“I thought this was a dream,” he said quietly, mostly to himself. He rubbed his palms together absently. As if trying to verify the texture of the moment.
Across the aisle, Elin and Linn met eyes. It wasn’t recognition, it was confirmation. Something in them both said: “this again.”
Elin shrugged first. Small, almost imperceptible. Shoulders barely moved. Linn mirrored it, but hers was more calculated. A shrug that meant “I have no idea but I’ve already started parsing it.”
Chris let out a single half-laugh. Not humor. Friction.
“Well,” he said, glancing out the window, “I always wanted to see the fjords.”
Elin didn’t smile. She was still watching the landscape slide by.
“There are no fjords in Sweden,” she said dryly.
Linn turned to her. “What about Gullmarn?”
Elin frowned slightly. “Where even is that?”
“Bohuslän,” Linn said, the word folding easily into the quiet. “Never been there. But I know.”
Chris exhaled slowly and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“Okay, enough. There should be a baseline to this. A rule. A reason. Something to pin it to. Why did it happen again?”
Elin looked around the carriage. Her gaze landed on the folded seats, the patterned upholstery, the soft overhead lighting that didn’t flicker. The soft sway of the train as it curved slightly left, following the contours of a lake she didn’t recognize.
“I’m home right now,” she said, carefully. “Or, obviously…” she paused, took in the unfamiliar timbre of the train “…not.”
Fabian leaned his head back, closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again.
“Maybe,” he said, slowly, “we’re being pulled together. By something.”
The sentence hung there. Unfinished, but trembling with implication.
All four of them fell quiet. Not a stunned silence. A listening one.
The train rolled on. Outside, the light kept folding over itself, oranges into purples, sky into lake into sky again. Inside, four people sat in the pulse of something too big to name. Each of them thinking the same thought, the same question, in slightly different words.
And somewhere deep in the hum of the rails, it almost felt like the question had already been asked.
Not to them.
But through them.
Urbit Chaos was composed and recorded in June 2025 by Martine Chine.
Cover art: Romane Roche Roy
The Necrophile Hummingbird netlabel presents Altered Signal by Invisible Illusion.
“Mystical Post-Industrial Music for Experimental Music Lovers”
Sometime you need to go back to something more rough more free more spontaneous. This album was unplanned it just birth from one session using a lot my electric frequencies generator mix later with several field recordings. I chose to deal with my very outsider music voice on several tracks. And added a few of related single experiment to achieve them.
For the artwork I used a head paint by my great-grandfather and next I changed it for a portrait made in wax by him too, because in this album I dig the origin of my life and its singularity to understand why the lines between my monikers are tangling so much these days. I mean CorteX and Yoshiwaku as well as Invisible Illusion have no more any real difference… Perhaps it’s related to the longtime stuck with rADio eNd which was an attempt to eradicate all them.
My great-grandfather was an orthodox believer, he made a lot of icons is whole life during, but he was also studying hypnosis and magnetism already in the 1920s years, so I hope he understood before is death in 1978 that all churches are against spirituality. Religion is a plague, especially in Europe where so many people have been massacred during several centuries, just because of being different, or more human than these god’s bureaucrats, do I say, these mobsters addicted to power. My great-grandmother was organizing spiritism meetings at home. I’ve always seen them together till her death in 1981. My first years I thought he was very impressive despite being quite silent, like only watching the people and indeed later I learnt he was already dead before my birth. Now I’m running a museum with the handcraft and paints they did as well as my art. Because I enjoy self sabotage I wrote the handcraft room is still not open, but in reality it’s already set, so if you travel by france, feel very free to visit the place https://soloist.ai/atelierkol/musee-hors-norme
A shorter version of Makeshift Bandage is available on this album https://archive.org/details/Jeff_Sampson_Ed_End_Tian_Keng
Dedicated to those mediums who turn the signals they receive into music.
Recorded during the lockdown period, Animal Sintético is the result of an intensive exploration of a Novation Peak synthesizer, temporarily loaned by a friend.
The work unfolds through real-time recordings and modulations over the course of a week, with compositions built track by track and captured in single takes.
This release explores ambient and drone territories, progressing toward more rhythmic and percussive pieces at its conclusion.
Each track corresponds to a distinct synthetic textile material, evoking the idea that sonic filaments gain meaning through interconnection.
The title — born from a spontaneous joke about a faux fur coat — precisely reflects the EP’s aesthetic: artificial, textured, interwoven.
Animal Sintético is an exercise in material and conceptual synthesis, where instrumental limitation becomes language.
The artist VelgeNaturlig (real name Ivo São Bento) combines dense, improvised sound environments and the use of analog machines to explore introspective audiovisual landscapes.
This work, released by MiMi Records, carries the listener through industrial and ephemeral soundscapes, where metallic drones and subtle pulses narrate without words. Its intimate, ritualistic atmosphere reveals a rare aesthetic — austere beauty and constant tension.
A demanding yet rewarding work — for those who seek deep immersion and creative silence.
Recorded live on December 22nd, 2023, at KIC (Kulturno informativni centar) in Zagreb, during ‘Ambientalika’.
Music, recording, mixing and mastering by Ivo São Bento
Photography by Bianca Stanea, taken on Patmos Island
Layout by Nanna Cartis
Ambientalika curated by Miljenko Rajakovic
Rácz Mihály (HR+, Hideg Roncs – ambient, drone revisions)
Sipos Róbert (ROBotron, NoiseSculptor – techno, noise, drone revisions)
Jäger Ádám (jagarin – artwork, vocals, samples from Search At)
„ReSearch At” is HiNoGar’s second full-length manifestation, created at 2025 spring from the first album, „Search At” tracks and a compilation track with some new sounds. The performers on the re-worked, but absolutely new album are HiNoGar members – but under other aliases.
Σφαῖρα, an EP inspired by ancient Greece, wasn’t just a geometric shape, it influenced their understanding of both the Earth and the universe.
What begins as light ambient soundscapes slowly transforms, drawing you into a world of resonant drones. It’s an exploration of sonic depth, from the subtle to the profound.
It is yet another debut by a portuguese artist in the MiMi Records catalog.
The neck’s contortion, the hand flung into the void, the chest opening to a silence that rises from beneath the skin and folds perception inward—the introspection of not quite knowing what the body itself is feeling.
As a kind of retrospective, “ochre walls of heft” strips away the final layers of what this project has been: an exploration of abstract, unbound sonorities. Here, everything takes form and culminates in the electric and/or acoustic guitar, sent on a journey through three distinct soundscapes, equally indebted to Tangerine Dream’s expansive atmospheres and Merzbow’s abrasive intensity.
When he’s not unsettling his neighbors with new recordings, jofi is also a poet, painter, and photographer.
composition, re-mastering, photos and design by EMERGE
originally released by OOO! SOUND in 2013
remastered in 2025
EMERGE is also & always der Bund des dritten Auges
GoH-840: Woods Mattress – Hypertension
An over half an hour long harsh noise navigation with definitely atmospheric, hypnotic and dark approach slightly marked with traces of distorted ambient, far from violent sonic abuse typical for the genre. A psychedelic, noisy journey with the Illinois artist.
