Living and non-living things work hard. Buckling under strain, fractured into grist, materials are pushed beyond their capacity — crumbling under an empyrean pressure, a gravity whose source still remains unknown. The Standard Model of particle physics still can’t account for gravity: one of the simplest rules of our universe, and one that accounts for the movement and statehood of both the living and non-living. Still, it pushes all inward, into dust, into oceans, farther still into the burning cores of countless planets.

More about: QUALIATIK

We’re all gonna proceed with caution now, no? Can’t help but? What’s it serve to postpone understanding for destabilization’s own sorry, albeit essential, sake anyway? When we get to the end, and it’s shit, we’re swallowed up by regret. But this last stop, sentimental bemoaning of all our rashness and hedging on sustaining short term gains ought to’ve fallen off with generations of beings before us. Are we programmed just to succeed, to thrive and to flail faster and faster as gravity catches up? Or are we meant to take heed?

More about: Jefre Cantu-Ledesma

Organ Tapes’s signature auto-tuned vocals croon through the loops of a knot in his throat. On the verge of tears, or after bawling, he sings himself into or down from states. The lump stays when alone in bed, which is where I want to be when lolling to the melancholic and moody textures of “Servant” and “Ugly.” It grows a bit tighter when the edges of my lips turn up to the bouncy keys of “Signs.” Album closer “Sunset in E5” transfers that knot to my entire body. Listening welcomes forming. But for what? Love.

More about: Organ Tapes

In seeking out music to enhance their brand, fashion houses betray the way they want to be seen in the world. “Fashion needs a context,” the editor Joan Juliet Buck once exclaimed; beyond lending transfusions of their potent influencer blood, musicians provide just that: a sense of presence, physicality, and life to garments that would otherwise hang limply on the rack.

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