You’ve pressed play on another Virtual Cassette Library. Twelve tracks. Two sides. A little plastic ghost that flips itself at the halfway mark, like a polite pancake.
If you make music, or you run a label, or you simply own a shed full of strange noises and would like them filed somewhere warm, send your links or Bandcamp codes to trevlad@gmail.com. I read every one. Promise. I read them with both eyes and, on special occasions, a third one.
The shows stay free for the first week, wandering about with their shoelaces undone. After that they slip quietly into the hands of my Mixcloud subscribers, who currently have over eleven hundred other episodes waiting for them whenever the mood strikes. Subscribers also receive the expanding series of three-hour adventures titled Veil Frequencies, which is less a mixtape and more a long walk through a curtain that may be sentient.
Now. Each of these episodes is a two-part outing, just like the classic cassette. Unlike mixtapes or playlists, these two sides are curated as proper DJ sets, six tracks segued into one continuous mix, stitched together so carefully you can barely see the thread.
I hope you enjoy the adventure. Mind the flip.
A harbour drawn in soft pencil, then a cloud school ringing a horn of greeting. Side A keeps the seaweed’s appointment with the tide, still feels the earth turn under autumn leaves, dwells in holds large enough to stay, leaves an uncatalogued card in the drawer on purpose, lets silent water hold its breath so you can hear the room, and insists the clock has already spoken. Side B prefers the present tense inside a mutual blur, arrives as “we” with the nights already longer, receives a sincere note from the mothership, pauses between acts with the curtain half-raised, clips the verbs of quiet figures so the meaning stays intact, and lets the low cloud say hello in its own register. Overall mood: Slightly seasonal, and quietly precise — full of soft harbours, open scores, and sentences shortened but still whole. Perfect for dusk listening, houses that are still listening, or sitting still while the next spool still waits.
Side A Mood mist: a harbour drawn in soft pencil, an earth still turning under autumn, holds large enough to dwell in, a card left out of the catalogue, water that keeps its counsel, a clock that insists on the hour.
00:02:18 From A Harbour Softly Drawn (Fraser McGowan) – Seaweed (Exclusive Track) Album: Shepherds. Label: DRONARIVM Shepherds, DRONARIVM. The green that keeps the tide’s appointment, soft as the harbour that drew it. 00:08:23 Ed Herbers – I Can Still Feel The Earth Turn https://herbers.bandcamp.com/track/i-can-still-feel-the-earth-turn Album: Season Cycle: Autumn. Label: Passed Recordings Season Cycle: Autumn, Passed Recordings. Title of the hour. The ground still doing its quiet work under the leaves. 00:10:04 Many Pretty Blooms – Immense Holds https://whitelabrecs.bandcamp.com/track/immense-holds Album: Dwell On Beauty. Label: whitelabrecs Dwell on beauty, whitelabrecs. The climb that prefers to stay, and the view that agrees. 00:15:32 Ümlaut – Uncatalogued https://camembertelectrique.bandcamp.com/track/mlaut-uncatalogued Album: [VA #46] – SOURCE UNKNOWN. Label: Camembert Électrique Source unknown, Camembert Électrique. Jeff Düngfelder’s card left in the drawer on purpose. The house still listening. 00:24:27 Luca Longobardi – Aqua Tacita https://luca-longobardi.bandcamp.com/track/aqua-tacita-2 Album: Aqua Tacita. Label: Seil Records Silent water, Seil. The surface holding its breath so you can hear the room. 00:31:17 Portland Vows – Cuckoo https://portland-vows.bandcamp.com/track/cuckoo Album: Cuckoo. Label: Third Kind Records Third Kind. Everything is the case, and the case is the clock, and the clock has already spoken.
Side B Mood mist: a blur that prefers the present tense, a we that arrived with the nights drawing in, a note from a mothership, an interval between acts, quiet figures with their verbs trimmed, a cloud school ringing a horn of greeting.
Good day, listeners… or should I say, travellers of the tape. Trevor here. You’ve pressed play on another Virtual Cassette Library. Twelve-track virtual cassettes that flips themselves at the halfway mark.
If you make music, or run a label, and fancy a place in the library, send your links or Bandcamp codes to trevlad@gmail.com. I read every one. Promise.
The shows remain free for the first week, then slip quietly into the hands of my Mixcloud subscribers, who currently have over eleven hundred other episodes waiting for them whenever the mood strikes. Subscribers also receive the expanding series of 3-hour adventures titled Veil Frequencies.
Now imagine each episode as a colossal rotating stage — a great mechanical blooming lotus. You, the audience only ever glimpse a sliver of it at a time. Every artist is allotted the exact time it takes them to perform their piece. Then they rotate out of view, and the next act glides in. The stage spins at whatever speed the track demands. The names of the artists and labels I’ll mention before each set — or “side,” as the cassette alchemists call them. Six little incantations per set, plus a general mist of what mood to expect. Now the stage begins to turn.
Roads that remember their own headlights, then loneliness painted in two colours that match the Earth.
Side A drives Mulholland in 1937 with the windows down, borrows names for unknown places the way lungs borrow air, lives in the comma of a virga that never lands, otherizes you into a pleasant hum, steps into a Toronto river that has already left for the lake, and works the grove after hours at the speed of sap.
Side B opens the other six petals: an altostratiform spirit message from Cloud School, Haku drawing a thin white line across Vespera, autumn filing unopened wishes so they can fall unnoticed, a serenade from a field that forgot its stars on purpose, a Brasstown Bridge baptism you did not schedule, and pale blue and white echoing until loneliness looks like a planet.
Overall mood: Contemplative, watery, and quietly migratory — full of Imaginary North hush, Passed Oceans dunkings, and weather that keeps the certificate. Perfect for dusk listening, dry shoes beside the river, or sitting still while the next spool still waits.
Mood mist: roads that remember their own headlights, places without maps, rain that never quite reaches the ground, a buzz turned into a stranger, water that refuses to be the same twice, a grove that works the field after hours.
00:04:20 Elijah Fox – Mulholland Drive 1937 https://elijahfox1.bandcamp.com/track/mulholland-drive-1937 From the album: Ambient Works for the Highways of Los Angeles. Year: 2025 Mulholland before the billboards learned to talk. 1937 still driving with the windows down, the city below not yet sure it is a city. 00:04:53 Absence – Breathing and Vibrant https://imaginarynorth.bandcamp.com/track/breathing-and-vibrant From the album: Names of Unknown Places Label: Imaginary North. Year: 2026 The episode title track of tonight’s weather. Unknown places borrowing names the way lungs borrow air. 00:11:50 Eluvium – Microfauna https://eluvium.bandcamp.com/track/microfauna From the album: Virga III. Label: Temporary Residence Ltd. Year: 2026 Microfauna under a virga that never lands. Whole kingdoms living in the comma between cloud and dust. 00:13:57 Tim Story – Otherize https://curiousmusicia.bandcamp.com/track/otherize From the album: Buzzle. Label: Curious Music. Year: 2025 Otherize. Buzzle sanding the edges off “you” until “you” becomes a pleasant hum in the next room. 00:16:45 Kilometre Club – This River I Step In Is Not The River I Stand In https://imaginarynorth.bandcamp.com/track/kilometre-club-this-river-i-step-in-is-not-the-river-i-stand-in From the compilation album: Lake Effect: Quiet Music From Toronto. Label: Imaginary North. Year: 2026 Heraclitus in Toronto. The river you stepped in has already left for the lake. Quiet music keeping its shoes dry. 00:18:37 Willebrant – Grove https://willebrant.bandcamp.com/track/grove-4 From the album: Fieldworks. Year: 2025 Grove. Fieldworks filed under trees that do not clock off. The stage turns at the speed of sap.
The lotus folds. The other six petals open. Mood mist: mid-level cloud sending post, dusk wearing a white mask, autumn keeping the unopened envelopes, a field that sings back, a bridge that dunks you anyway, loneliness painted in two colours that match the Earth.
00:24:14 Towering Vertical – Altostratiform Spirit Message https://theastralrealms.bandcamp.com/track/side-2b-altostratiform-spirit-message From the album: Cloud School. Label: Relics of the Eternal City, The Dream Journal Institute. Year: 2025 Cloud School leaving a note on the desk you cannot reach without becoming weather. 00:37:11 The Green Kingdom – Haku https://whitelabrecs.bandcamp.com/track/haku From the album: Vespera. Label: whitelabrecs. Year: 2026 Haku. Vespera drawing a thin white line across the evening and calling it a kingdom. 00:39:32 Ed Herbers – Wishes That Never Came True https://herbers.bandcamp.com/track/wishes-that-never-came-true From the album: Season Cycle: Autumn. Label: Passed Recordings. Year: 2026 Wishes that never came true, filed under Autumn so they can fall without anyone noticing they were granted. 00:42:41 Vivid Stars Forgotten – Serenade https://vividstarsforgotten.bandcamp.com/track/serenade From the album: The Resonant Field. Label: EC Underground. Year: 2026 A serenade from a resonant field. The stars vivid, then forgot on purpose. 00:48:47 New Battalions – Baptism at the Brasstown Bridge https://passedrecordings.bandcamp.com/track/baptism-at-the-brasstown-bridge From the compilation album: Passed Oceans. Label: Passed Recordings. Year: 2026 Baptism at the Brasstown Bridge. Passed Oceans offering a dunking you did not schedule. The water keeps the certificate. 00:53:51 Heÿkla – Pale Blue And White https://driftworks.bandcamp.com/track/pale-blue-and-white From the album: Echoes of Loneliness. Label: Driftworks. Year: 2026 Loneliness echoing until it looks like a planet seen from too far away. Driftworks closing the spool before the color dries.
This has been The Virtual Cassette Library, episode 314. Travel safely between the frequencies. I’ll meet you on the other side of the next spool.