This week’s guide is by CF Smith and contributors , Words By Shoaib, Benny Thomas, and Irfan Ayaan.
The calendar has flipped, but the dust from 2025’s underground gems is still settling. There is and will be a ton of releases we’ve yet to uncover and that will go on deep into the year. Honestly, that’s part of the charm of our Between The Cracks feature. We especially love trawling our fave sites “year end lists” and stumbling upon late‑bloomers, overlooked gems, and slow‑burn discoveries that pop up. Anyway, speaking of year end list that’s where we came across our first pick, Lucy Railton’s sunning debut solo cello release, Blue Veil. You’ll also find albums from f.ampism, Plants Heal, and a cracking jazz‑forward EP by Ea Sundström. Plus, Women In Jazz dropped the opening chapter of what we hope will be a long‑running series. Finally, with one foot firmly planted in 2026, the Swedish acoustic ambient group Trio Ramberget didn’t waste a second and released their sixth full-length album on January 1st. Read the mini-reviews, listen to the music and, most importantly, hit the buy/share link. Happy listening, and have a lovely weekend.
Albums
Lucy Railton – Blue Veil
When the same record shows up across a number of end-of-year lists, that’s usually a signal of something worth investigating – cue Blue Veil. Lucy Railton’s debut solo cello album functions as an extended meditation on harmonic purity and bowed linguistics. Structured across seven Phase movements, the album prioritises depth over breadth, with each section acting as a distinct harmonic environment. Phase I establishes the work’s intimate topology, introducing sustained harmonics that shimmer with uncanny resonance. Phase III and Phase VII, the album’s longest moments, unfold like slow-motion excavations of overtone territory, where minute bow adjustments generate spine-tingling sonic mirages. Rather than adhering to traditional classical form, Railton constructs spaces of profound quietude punctuated by barely perceptible timbral shifts. The work recalls Morton Feldman’s patient architectonics and Maryanne Amacher’s deployment of psychoacoustic phenomena, positioning Railton alongside deep-listening practitioners. Blue Veil is peak transcendent listening material, essential for those seeking revelatory sonic introspection and harmonic truth. – IA
Trio Ramberget – Trio Ramberget
We’ve been waiting with bated breath for the release of Trio Ramberget’s new album since we waxed lyrical about the lead track TR/IV. Their self-titled record lands with cosy neoclassical and ambient warmth. The acoustic trio is still doing things their way, using trombone, bass clarinet, and double bass to make what is largely electronic-based genre ambient music. Recorded within the vast steel chamber of the oil cistern, the trio’s sound meets the space’s natural, organic echo, becoming a fourth player in their distinctive acoustic drone universe. True to form, they’re still all about those lengthy, multi-layered compositions. To give you a sense of scale, the three standout tracks are each over 7 minutes long. TR/IV is the best of the bunch. A gorgeously drone-laden number that grows and grows over its eight-minute duration. The song features the trombone’s expressive tones, deep in reverb, which merge beautifully with the rich, resonant bass clarinet and rumbling double bass lines. Snuggle up, turn on the heating, grab a steaming hot beverage, and enjoy this slow-burning winter warmer. – CFS
f.ampism – The Vertical Luminous
The Vertical Luminous doesn’t present itself as a traditional ambient record. It moves more like a living ecosystem, constantly shifting, glowing, and rearranging itself as if guided by the tiny organisms F.Ampism loves to imagine. Paul Wilson has built a world where synths, field recordings, and musique concrete techniques melt into each other so naturally that you stop noticing where the electronic ends and the organic begins. What this really means is that the album invites you to listen the way you’d observe something under a microscope, patiently, curiously, ready for surprise. Two early standouts set the tone. Worm Moon stretches out with a soft, lunar hum that slowly unfurls into free-jazz flickers and drifting overtones. It feels like staring at an eclipse through frosted glass, mysterious, warm, slightly otherworldly. Lunar Mansions works differently, blooming in pulses of synth light and bell-like textures, opening the album with a sense of quiet awe. Across all thirteen pieces, Wilson keeps things playful yet deeply immersive. Nothing lingers too long, yet everything leaves an afterglow. It’s a small, glowing world, strange, serene, and easy to fall into. – WBS
Plants Heal – Forest Dwellers
Improvised roots, electronic branches, and mystic leaves are what you’ll find in this forest nurtured by Plants Heal. Their second album, Forest Dwellers, unfurls like a slow bloom of sonic mycology on the forest floor of the mind. Dave De Rose and Dan Nicholls, organic beatdowns are the slow, deliberate type, like the pulse of tree sap in a deep winter. Angular rhythmic shifts dominate on Alien Hardware. It’s sharp and mechanical, with a dub techno‑leaning pulse that contrasts the organic feel of opener Avena Moon. Keyboards seep like morning mist through the track ‘Yarrow’, sometimes clarifying the air, sometimes obscuring the path. ‘Thistle’ offers a prickly texture, a fractal resistance to the otherwise smooth current of sound. The funk-filled closer ‘Space Ballad’ pulsates with dreamy synths and hypnotic percussion, creating a drifting, cosmic finale — like the forest dissolving into the stars. The trio is completed by Lou Zon, whose visual work, while absent from this review, is the missing phytoncide, the final, airborne immune boost the listener requires. This is music for the subterranean self, an echo chamber where avant-garde meets the slow creep of moss. It’s challenging, yet deeply calming, just like nature’s complex, untamed duality. – IA
Compilations
V/A Women In Jazz Vol. 1
Having dropped a song every month throughout 2025, this beautiful end-of-year album sees Women In Jazz gather twelve dazzling sonic portraits from a breadth of female talent within the jazz community. From the opening meditative pulses of Rosa Brunello’s ‘Uno Punto Uno’ to the swinging, hip shaking finale of Colectiva’s ‘Soy La Que Soy’, this double-vinyl treasure chest overflows with colour, courage, and creative fire. Amy Gadiaga paints ethereal shadows with ‘Ghostly Shade Of Pale’ while Yazz Ahmed reimagines a Fijiri-inspired lament ‘My Heart Will Not Forget You’. Dee Byrne (our highlight) unleashes tempestuous energy in ‘Storm Deidre’, and Poppy Daniels navigates vibrant soundscapes with ‘Due To The Circumstances’. It’s jazz that breathes, jazz that dances, jazz that refuses to be boxed in. Buy the vinyl, pour yourself a glass of something, drop the needle, and let these extraordinary artists move you. – BT
EP’s
Ea Sundström – Primordial Confusion
I can’t believe that a punk bassist has released one of the finest jazz EPs you’ll likely hear this year. And as we’re only nine days in, that’s quite a statement. The punk bassist in question is Ea Sundström, and a quick Google search will reveal that she’s a classically trained cellist who dabbles in the avant-garde, so making a jazz record is not really the stretch it first appeared. Primordial Confusion is Ea Sundström’s solo debut, and it finds her blending avant-garde, free jazz, and unpredictable structures. Anton Alamaa pops along to help out on drums and acoustic guitar for this mythologically charged project. ‘Prima Materia’ opens the EP with a spacious, jazz‑forward composition. Sundström’s cello roots are evident in the layered textures, while sombre piano progressions (I assume played by Sundström) float with elegance. Named after the Chinese mythological figure of chaos,’ Hun Dun’ leans into dissonance and fractured rhythms. Alamaa’s cymbals and drums provide a hypnotic grounding pulse. Picking up the pace, ‘Tiamat’ is the highlight of the project. The interplay of bass, piano and percussion creates a tidal push‑and‑pull, while Sundström’s avant‑garde sensibilities add menace and mystery. Named after the Egyptian primeval waters, ‘Nun’ is a more meditative, brooding number that evokes a chill that runs down your spine. This excellent EP is something you need to hear, don’t sleep! – CFS
