For “Unconditional Contours”, Legowelt was granted rare hands-on access to the 5000 synths, organs, drum machines and effects units of the Swiss Museum for Electronic Music Instruments (SMEM)- but before you get excited, I’m afraid such access is only available to their artists-in-residence. The result that came out is a series of ten fairly short experimental tracks that showcase different synths, often citing them by name in the track titles, but which also for the most part hangs together as an album in its own right.

There’s an inevitable Tangerine Dream-iness about tracks like “Unconditional Contours Memory Moog” and “Swiss Fairytales”, although with the longest track only just over four minutes, there’s a certain staticness- each piece feels like a sonic vignette of a particular arrangement of knobs and dials, and none of them are allowed to truly evolve and progress at any length. The track “Evolution EVS-1 ProMars and Prophet 5” is an absolutely lovely melody, but it’s barely longer than its own title.

It’s certainly influenced by dance music as well as dream music though. Drum machines are brought into play in tracks like “Chateaux Dans Le Ciel Farfisfa Synthorchestra”, which goes quite Underworld-esque towards the end, and where the lo-fi and weedy aspects of old synth sounds seems to be enjoyed rather than avoided. The unexpected spoken word element in “Prophet Vector Synth Dazzling in the Sun”, with its talk of crystal cascades, vectors and forgotten paths, feels like a throwback to early ‘90s trance, but played out with early ‘80s synths, while the glammier beat of “SMEM23 Digital Clap Trap Promars Prophet” brings to mind T.Raumschmiere.

It’s mostly rather on the serious side, but playfulness does pop out very slightly in elements such as the rubbery bass tones of “Roxannes Magic Watch”.

It sits somewhere between a ‘proper’ analogue electronica album and a series of equipment demo tracks, but manages to provide enough of the former to be coherent. A bit more experimentation and ambition might have pushed the envelopes a little further, but it’s certainly got merit as a listening album for fans of the old synth sounds. Plenty of analogue synth enthusiasts will be feeling jealous over this one.

Ultramarine’s first album “Folk” gets an overdue reissue and remaster for its 30th anniversary (it was remastered in 1995 too but that doesn’t count). While Ultramarine became better known for tracks like “Kingdom” a few years later, it’s a welcome opportunity to revisit their first album output. It is an instantly recognisable and unique blend of folk, jazz and electronica that instantly says Ultramarine.

That said, the electronica aspects are a little more set back than on later tracks, leaving the ‘real’ instruments with more space to play, and as a result, landing it more firmly among the ham-fistedly labelled “world music explosion” that was going on around 1990, as musical diversity and the idea of fusion became in vogue for a bit. “Lobster” has shades of the word of David Sylvian and Robert Fripp from around the same period, while “Bronze Eye” brings to mind Edward II and the Red Hot Polkas, thanks largely to the accordion work.

A rolling, poppy, somewhat Madchester-ish beat crops up several times, in “Antiseptic”, in “Bastard Folk”, in “Softspot” and so on. For the most part it’s an instrumental album, with minor exceptions such as the spoken-word samples on “Lobster”, with “Softspot” the only track that offers up a sung melody line- and even then, literally just one line.

“Bullprong” has enjoyable dubby elements to it, while “Vulgar Streak” is anything but vulgar, with some utterly beautiful clarinet work that’s stepped a little modesty into the background. Final track “The Golden Target” adds a funk-like, almost sleazy swagger.

With 30 years’ distance since the original release, “Folk” is an album ahead of its time in some ways, and very much of its time in others- but for any fans of the band’s later work, or anyone with fond memories of the more optimistic and open-minded explosion of eclecticism around that period, it will go down an absolute treat.

To launch his own imprint FR Records, Rhys Fulber (of Front Line Assembly, Delerium, Conjure One et al) offers up an EP which is described as an “ambient detour”, devoid of his recent harsh rhythms. I wouldn’t call it ‘ambient’ though, as steady arpeggios and lighter rhythms still give this a firm electronica structure.

“Charleroi” opens, with big wide rolling rumbles and waves of low noise. The gradual introduction of Tangerine Dream-esque arpeggios, and then a decidedly synthwave-like top melody line, end up giving this track something of a introductory feel, as though it’s the tone-setter for a massive heavy EDM album that’s about to rock your ears- but it isn’t. This pattern is repeated surprisingly closely in third track “Meaningless Marker Of Mortality”, even down to the sudden drop at the end.

“Disused” is more experimental, with light industrial hammering sounds charting out a swaggering 12/8-ish rhythm, with another surprisingly perky melody following on later.

Final track “Monolithic Myriad Manifold” charts a course from dark to bright, again adopting rather synthwave-styled lead melodies over a brooding tuned drone.

There is an extent to which these four tracks feel a little like leftover experiments or diversions- but when Rhys Fulber is the artist in question, you know that even the off-cuts are going to be worth listening to- and such is the case here, a really intriguing EP that teases the prospect of longer works perhaps a little more than it satisfies within itself.

The reliable 3Bridge Records have offered up another 4-track EP from the mellower, more progressive side of house- and this one is gentle and laidback even by their standards, with New York-based Sleepy & Boo offering up a nostalgic sound of afternoon beach house.

“Perception” is quite loungey thanks mostly to its key sounds. “Expectation” starts off with thicker kicks and more of a sense of purpose, but before too long gets to a breakdown full of long Balearic vocal pads and a soft wistful two-note melody- but it’s a well crafted blend and a highlight once the beat comes back.

“Impressions” is nicely bright and optimistic and “Notion” has a flatter, more journeying tone, but essentially they’re all built from the same recipe of crisp house beat, layered pads and plinky synth arpeggios, and a structure that makes the chord sequence the star, in the absence of any vocal or other top line that would normally take that accolade.

For circumstances where house music being forgettable isn’t a problem- gentle afternoons, office work or slower workouts, dare I say it even ‘muzak’- this package has got all the quality in the right places, without anything to make it stand out.

Yair Etziony normally works in the spheres of ambient and drone, and I’ve positively reviewed at least one of Etziony’s releases here before. As a consequence of lockdown experimentation, this is something different, that certainly warranted a new artist name. This jumps genres quite resolutely and lands in dark electronica and EDM. Rolling long synth basslines run over cut-up breakbeats, drumloops and drum patterns that are part drum-and-bass, but sometimes with the half-speed swagger that grew from dubstep.

“Hand Disinfection” sets a tone that initially feels almost retro- like synthwave but for the darker underbelly of the 90’s d&b world, emphasised by a vocal sample made familiar by Primal Scream. “Lockdown” has a slower, more hand-made programmed break to it that’s a touch lazier, while “Metropolis” has a distinctly brighter and more positive tone with a bright synth arpeggio and upbeat break.

“A Place Where There Is No Darkness” is the most overtly post-dubstep-ish thanks to its crisp groove, and when we reach “The New Normal” there is a certain sense of narrative to the fact that the more unsettled and distorted tones have been replaced by a slightly more positive but still sorrow-infused atmosphere. “Umwelt”, with its ‘everyone wanted a place where they could be alone’ sample, feels less like a finale and more like a creeping acceptance of the new status quo.

Between some of these tracks are more ambient interlude pieces more akin to the previous works I’ve heard from Etziony. “Dead Skin” and “Stay Safe” are soft arhythmic padded pieces with a calm to them that seems quite fitting for the lockdown theme, socially distancing the beat tracks, while “State Of Exception” is a longer broodier rumble with a distinctly sci-fi theme.

As an expression of lockdown mood and experience, it’s not especially diverse or unique in its tone. However it’s a well-presented 50 minute journey through soft but broody electronica that does seem to strike a chord.