“Seeker”, a collaborative album between Kate Fleur Young and Frequent Traveller (Steve Spiro) arriving on 11 September via State of Mind, is the first instalment of this partnership. The record is introduced by its first single, “Communion”, a meditative piece that offers an intimate entry point into an album shaped by voice, nature and immersive sound.

Created between Young’s live performances with crystal singing bowls, chimes and voice and Spiro's richly layered production, “Seeker” brings together expansive ambient drones, textured electronics and field recordings gathered from remote landscapes and sacred spaces across the world. Each composition is built around a unique binaural beat frequency, subtly shaping the listening experience while remaining grounded in musical expression and environmental storytelling.

For Young, whose work explores the relationship between voice, place and environment, the album continues a practice of creating sonic landscapes that dissolve the boundaries between composition, installation and performance. Her transcendent vocal arrangements sit alongside recordings from the natural world, creating pieces that feel both deeply personal and rooted in the environments from which they emerge.

Lead single “Communion” captures the spirit of the collaboration. Delicate vocal layers drift through crystalline resonances and immersive field recordings, unfolding gradually into a spacious sound world that invites close, uninterrupted listening. Rather than seeking dramatic gestures, the piece finds its emotional weight through patience, detail and atmosphere.

Together, Young and Spiro have created a record that exists somewhere between ambient music, sound art and environmental composition. “Seeker” is less concerned with escape than with presence, encouraging listeners to slow down, listen deeply and discover new relationships between voice, landscape and sound.

“8mm was born from a collective effort. I’ve been interested in 8mm and Super 8 films for a long time. There’s something about these grainy, home-made projections that lures me in. I thought I’d like to make a soundtrack to some of these home movies.

I asked friends on social media if they had any old Super 8 home movie reels they didn’t want, so I could write this score to them.

After a couple of weeks, I had acquired an 8mm film projector, two 8mm cameras, and boxes and boxes of 8mm film reel, such was the interest in the project and the generosity of my friends.

The films tell tales of family holidays, birthdays, road trips, days out and special occasions, spanning from the mid 1960’s to the present day. Their scratchy images and DIY nature suggested a sonic palette full of disintegration, lo-fidelity, dropouts, wobble and surface noise, like an old, sunbaked cassette played through a cheap speaker. As these are mainly home movies, from another time and space, they evoke memory, feelings of longing for times past, and reflection. This has seeped into the music, creating a sound and melody unlike anything I’ve previously recorded.”

A piano was recorded.

Strings were summoned.

An electric cello hummed through the wires.

Somewhere, electricity turned into feeling.

Topanga is not about category, or structure, or form.

It is about what happens when the online signal fades and something else begins.

No manifesto. No genre. No story.

Just sound.

And the quiet between it.