Berlin-based Dutch-Italian composer and musician Aimée Portioli aka Grand River presents the new album Temporary, returning to the renowned Editions Mego label with her most expansive and focused LP yet. Rooted in existential ideas of impermanence and flux, Temporary is a deeply emotive work centred on the rich interplay between resonant guitar work and innovative electronics. Written in the wake of profound personal grief and loss, the album sees Portioli infuse her music with a raw, expressive intensity anchored in this experience. Across eight strikingly melodic and affecting soundscapes, Portioli powerfully embodies a dramatic encounter with mortality. Temporary reprises Portioli's exceptional streak of material across acclaimed labels including Donato Dozzy and Neel's Spazio Disponibile, Caterina Barbieri's light-years, Ghostly International, Tresor and Umor Rex. The LP represents the latest tour de force in her distinctive electronic practice, bringing together resonant guitar work and synthesis. Alongside a raft of lauded releases, Portioli has devised visionary multichannel installations which dissolve the boundary between the art gallery and the performance space. Her new album signifies a culmination of her work, imbued with the depth of Portioli's artistry. Shaped by a paradigm shift rising from loss, the record reflects a contemplation of the human condition and the ephemeral nature of existence. Ruminating on the thoughts and experiences that have fed into the record, Portioli reveals a consequential recognition underpinning the record: "Sometimes, when travelling in places far from home that I know I will most likely never return to, or while accompanying someone I loved towards the end of their life, I become intensely aware of the singularity of the moment, and of how precious and sad this feels at the same time. It carries a particular weight because it will never happen again in quite the same way. Through experiences like these, I have gradually come to understand the temporary nature of all things. They taught me that to live is to experience the present while already feeling the trace of its disappearance, something both painful and blissful." - Aimée Portioli, Grand River The album is invested with a potent mood and momentum from the outset. Establishing an evocative tone with the subtle, pulsating synthesis, rustling undertow, and oceanic low end of 18 circles to heaven, Portioli gradually ascends through the incandescent modular majesty of Come to stay, and the turbulent, brooding guitar figures of The crossing of the body, the crossing of the mind. The album progresses through the rapturous electronic phasing of The little we last into the coruscating synth grandeur of Let me know when you're pure, before a thrilling endgame. Closing with the wavering harp runs, heavy percussive thud, and cataclysmic guitar discordance of Maybe I am dead and this is paradise, and the evanescent atmospherics and beautiful acoustic refrains of Work of ending, Portioli takes the listener through vast landscapes of sound and mercurial emotional states. Intimate and immersive in equal measure, the record traces a compelling sensory journey. Each part of the album is part of a larger poetic sentence, with track titles forming fragments that together articulate a meditation on transience. From 18 circles to heaven and Come to stay through From the other side and Work of ending, they read like quiet statements about being human, about loving, losing, remembering and eventually fading. The record moves through these states as a continuous passage, depicting a poignant soundworld guided by temporality. The awareness that our time is limited sharpens the value of what remains. Each encounter, each gesture, each fleeting moment becomes more vivid. Temporary lingers in the space where presence and disappearance coexist, where everything is already passing away and therefore becomes infinitely precious. Things matter because they do not last. Mortality does not diminish life; it intensifies it. In confronting these ideas, Temporary feels irrepressibly alive.

Pon is Tujiko Noriko's sixth album for Editions Mego and a further extension of her already significant body of work as both a solo and collaborative artist. Dedicated to her cat who she adopted as an infant and passed away due an accident having been born deaf, Pon is imbued with abstraction, tenderness and a deep emotional resonance. Noriko's palette of electronics, romantic melodies and surprising sonic details are all fully present here, and like her last full length, 2023's Crépuscule this is an epic work, released as a 2LP by Editions Mego alongside a Japanese CD release. The unmistakable hue of Japan hovers throughout this emotional rich landscape. Subtle field recordings and fragile, abstract motifs drift through the album, all cloaked in a warmth and humanity that only Noriko seems able to conjure. Pon moves effortlessly between the childlike and the obscure. There are moments of deceptive simplicity where unexpected elements suddenly surface — strange voices emerge on Boku Wa Obaka, Knife of Yonder is a standout: a startling ten-minute unfolding that begins with a warm, almost Eno-esque drift before launching into a soaring mid-section and finally landing somewhere unexpectedly blues-adjacent. Kikoeru Pon is brimming with childlike wonder — a heartfelt ballad that dissolves into domestic field recordings, including sounds of the feline for whom both the album and track are named. A quietly devastating ending that brings the personal nature of the record into sharp focus. There is a deep sense of the human in the way Noriko embraces technology. This is far from cold abstraction; rather, Pon feels like a colourful photo album, documenting Noriko's inner world and instincts with remarkable intimacy. Hovering in liminal states between pop, ambient and abstraction, this is a deeply affective and moving release that reveals new surprises with each listen. The emotional range of Noriko's latest offering inspires hope in a world in disarray. It is both gentle and epic and one which we feel embodies the work of an artist fully at the height of her powers.

Pon is Tujiko Noriko's sixth album for Editions Mego and a further extension of her already significant body of work as both a solo and collaborative artist. Dedicated to her cat who she adopted as an infant and passed away due an accident having been born deaf, Pon is imbued with abstraction, tenderness and a deep emotional resonance. Noriko's palette of electronics, romantic melodies and surprising sonic details are all fully present here, and like her last full length, 2023's Crépuscule this is an epic work, released as a 2LP by Editions Mego alongside a Japanese CD release. The unmistakable hue of Japan hovers throughout this emotional rich landscape. Subtle field recordings and fragile, abstract motifs drift through the album, all cloaked in a warmth and humanity that only Noriko seems able to conjure. Pon moves effortlessly between the childlike and the obscure. There are moments of deceptive simplicity where unexpected elements suddenly surface — strange voices emerge on Boku Wa Obaka, Knife of Yonder is a standout: a startling ten-minute unfolding that begins with a warm, almost Eno-esque drift before launching into a soaring mid-section and finally landing somewhere unexpectedly blues-adjacent. Kikoeru Pon is brimming with childlike wonder — a heartfelt ballad that dissolves into domestic field recordings, including sounds of the feline for whom both the album and track are named. A quietly devastating ending that brings the personal nature of the record into sharp focus. There is a deep sense of the human in the way Noriko embraces technology. This is far from cold abstraction; rather, Pon feels like a colourful photo album, documenting Noriko's inner world and instincts with remarkable intimacy. Hovering in liminal states between pop, ambient and abstraction, this is a deeply affective and moving release that reveals new surprises with each listen. The emotional range of Noriko's latest offering inspires hope in a world in disarray. It is both gentle and epic and one which we feel embodies the work of an artist fully at the height of her powers.