quête:context

For more than a decade, The Bunker New York has been a nexus point for the transnational techno community.
A chance meeting at The Bunker in 2011 brought together Gunnar Haslam and Johannes Auvinen (also known as Tin Man), who became fast friends and collaborators soon after, conceiving a joint project called Romans. The Bunker New York is proud to present Romans' Ambulare Aude, a collection of atmospheric acid techno tracks following the project's debut on Auvinen's own Global A in 2014."The Roman theme opens a world to explore beyond both of our past endeavours," says Auvinen, explaining
the conceptual genesis of the collaboration. "In the same way Ennio Morricone may have conceived the 'Spaghetti Western' genre by fusing together various contemporary motifs and moods to conjure the spirit of a past era, we're imagining stories and scenes from the Roman era, trying to manifest narratives while celebrating the distortions we see looking through the murky lens of time." And while Morricone may be a conceptual reference point for Romans, their sound is anything but—instead offering up a pair of murky, psychedelic acid-etched cuts (Emona, Delmenium) buffered by a gradually unfolding up-tempo floor-burner
(Coptos).
The record is the result of several extended improvisational jam sessions in Vienna and Brooklyn in which both
artists would play off of each other in the studio. Accordingly, each of the three tracks have a slight aleatory
air about them, as though both artists are being led down an unforeseen musical path, not entirely certain of
where it leads. This culminates in Delmenium, the record's B-side, a true techno journey, featuring an emotional, metallic synthesizer coruscating against a melancholy background.
"I like to think what we make sounds simultaneously like both of us and neither of us. We both push each other
in different ways," Haslam says, recounting their production process. Auvinen adds that "(Collaboration) offers a chance to hear from someone else's perspective. Working with others, I'm often reminded of how radically different the way people hear things, and relate to them in a musical context, can be."

There is something singularly unique and peculiar in the degree to which seemingly unsettling themes and extreme taboos have been explored, most notably in the medium of film, in the land of Nippon. Free from the constraints of reality, notions of grotesque brutality, torture, fetishism, and sadomasochism, to name a few, have oftentimes served as driving motifs in the examination of the true nature of violence latent in the most repressed reaches of the human mind. Concurrently, in the realm of electronic music, many Japanese producers have often been able to cultivate and harness a daring yet distinctly refined and inimitable form of organized sonic chaos, one almost instantly recognizable to the occidental ear. The music of Tomohiko Sagae, and in particular his latest contribution to Furanum's catalogue, The Spurt of Blood, is perhaps a quintessential example of the confluence of the former themes and latter medium.
At the outset of the record, the beholder is faced with the 'Vacant Eyes' of a staggering monstrosity, a subdued and subjugated automata in the midst of a bleak dystopia, nearly lifeless but for the grudgingly conceded advance of its death march. As a battery of gratuitous aural violence led by a dominant synth is rapidly unleashed in the subsequent composition, a growing malaise transforms into fractured bone and psyche alike, with no distinction made anymore between the tearing of metal, flesh, or the fabric of the mind. Culminating in 'Severe Pain', with limits of endurance breached and descent into madness the only seeming form of respite, relentlessly rolling drums and hauntingly sublime howls provide the context for the dawning realization of pain as a virtue in and of itself, when a demented pleasure and the exhilarative liberation that lies therein begins to emerge. In the final act, reinterpreted by Furanum stalwarts Uncto, roles are tellingly reversed as the vacant eyes of the victim become that of the oppressor. With cold-blooded precision, the original is reengineered into a force of merciless domination, its elements machined and recalibrated for pure power.Words: PSD

In what will certainly be ranked as one of his most intriguing releases so far, Kompakt staple MATIAS AGUAYO not only takes a quick breather from his commitment to Cómeme, but also opens up fresh and exciting paths for him to explore with his music: LEGENDE is both the continuation and alteration of Matias' well-established aesthetic canon, drawing from all stages in his production career und ultimately synthesizing various sonic strains into a wholly new listening experience.

Having established a firm artistic presence in the annals of electronic music through iconic collaborations like Closer Musik or his genre-defying solo work, MATIAS AGUAYO is an artist well known for his deep investment with innovation in club sounds and a keen sense of the varying social context that informs them. This led to the inception of Cómeme, internationally acclaimed label by day, breeding ground for the revolution by night, sonically and otherwise. One can safely assume that - besides constant performing and travelling - this makes for a pretty busy schedule.

Black White Marbled Vinyl

Following a hiatus of nearly two years, the latest Furanum offering signals the return of solo work from label owner Dominik Muller and coincides with a pivotal tenth release on the label. The Embodiment of Brute Propulsion most notably features for the first time on vinyl robust reconstructions of two the artist's most seminal compositions. Both previously released on UK's Locked Records, 'Eintrachthutte' (2007) and 'Silesian Boy' (2009) have served as stepping stones for the artist's evolving musical vision and represent a raw reflection of the influential period spent immersed in his industrial homeland of Upper Silesia. Audibly modernized and now endowed with a substantially augmented lower end, the two capably maintain the feel and imagery of the originals; the former the impressions of a visit to an iconic location bearing the same name, and the latter a personal exploration of identity in the context of youth.
Also given the wax treatment for the first time is 'Blank,' a previously unreleased piece that has been a mainstay of Dominik's live performances in various forms since 2011. Defined by a recurring and ineluctable pattern, both intrusive yet irresistible, its orphic narrative is subtly driven forward by a series of menacing drones weave their way around a dense and forceful rhythmical panorama. Lastly, the repertoire is complemented by a vinyl-exclusive personal capture of an industrial press shop in operation. Seemingly bare, inanimate, and inexorably bound to its predeterminate cycle of motion, the mechanized landscape stands as a symbolic archetype of the aesthetic ambitions of the label.
Mastered at Berlin's D&M by CGB, Fu010 will be available on 12" as well as in digital format at all fine music retailers.
Words: PSD

Our next Stil vor Talent 12 sounds like a mysterious, alien soundscape transmitted straight from outer space to the peak-time dance-floors of planet Earth. Edu Imbernon has already demonstrated a brilliant ear for pulsating house music on his remix for Niconé & Sascha Braemer's 'Dreamer'. Here, he once again teams up with fellow Spaniard Triumph, while SVT favourites Kellerkind and Niko Schwind are on remix duty. The title 'Mystery Inside' couldn't be more fitting to the meteorite shower the duo conjure up with the aid of vocalist Sutja Gutierrez on the A-side: sharp hi-hats lead straight into a moody bass-line that meets a beautifully rounded kick and percussion-workout. Things get otherworldly as synths start flying through the speakers, finally beaming you to another galaxy once Gutierrez' heavily spaced out vocals set in. On the flip, Kellerkind slows things down considerably and builds on the original's UFO-synths, while Niko Schwind cherry picks his favourite parts of 'Mystery Inside' and contextualises them within his own 80s synth motif and fat breakdown. Extraterrestrial warning: the Spaniards have landed!

Up and away / To your journey to the sun / Drink your rocket juice / Fly away (Hey, Shooter).
High up in the skies, amongst the clouds, Rocket Juice & The Moon was born. Literally. It happened back in 2008, when Damon Albarn, Flea and Tony Allen convened on the same Lagos flight, to play and exchange musical ideas in that city as part of the Africa Express collective. Relishing a shared enthusiasm for one another's work, and bonding immediately, there and then the triumvirate laid down the blueprint for Rocket Juice.
Still, more than a year passed before conditions were set for three weeks together at Albarn's West London studio, recording and refining two-dozen startlingly out and deeply funky instrumental grooves. The next stage was to invite onboard some extremely talented friends, with further sessions in Dallas, New York, Chicago and Paris... Erykah Badu, no less, queen of contemporary soul. Three companions from Africa Express: Malian singer Fatoumata Diawara, whose debut album has topped World Music charts since its release last Autumn; her multi-talented compatriot Cheick Tidiane Seck, whose prodigious keyboardism has lit up releases by artists ranging from Youssou N'Dour to Hank Jones; the young, Ghanaian rapper M.anifest, quizzically existential, switching seamlessly between Twi and English. And the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, long-time stalwarts in the Honest Jon's set-up — since one of the team discovered them busking near the shop in Portobello Road, on his lunchbreak — with a second album for the label due in May... Finally, the tracks were dispatched for mixing to Berlin, to be meticulously honed, polished and envenomed by Mark Ernestus, one half of the legendary Basic Channel and Rhythm & Sound partnerships.
The result is Rocket Juice & The Moon — out March 26, 2012, on Honest Jon's Records — a triumphant exploration and proliferation of kinetic Afro-funk rhythms: organic, exuberant, communal music-making, evidenced by the project's live debut on stage as part of the Honest Jon's Chop Up in late 2011, which hit London, Marseille, Dublin, and Cork to such great acclaim (witness the flurry of smart-phone film-clips uploaded in the days thereafter).
From the inaugural bars — that absurdly funky slice of instructional timekeeping, 1-2-3-4-5-6 — the liquid pulse of Fela Kuti's classic recordings drives the action through a suite of 18 shape-shifting compositions. The greatest drummer in the world has never sounded so good as he does here. His intricate cross-patterns jostle and lock with Flea's nimble, rumbling bass riffs. Joined by Seck on There and Extinguished — 'when you dispose of something burning, be sure it's out' — Albarn's keyboards spray synth fusillades up top, over, and under... splicing into the mess of wires running between the freaked Afro-disco of William Onyeabor and the space-jazz-moog of Sun Ra. The HBE brings extra intensity and drama to Leave-Taking — likewise Flea's trumpet to Rotary Connection — teasing out the haunting melody coiled in the mix.
Where the best of vintage Afrobeat sides sustained their concentrated energies over the course of sprawling, marathon jams, RJ & TM manages something altogether different: the group bottles the idiom into capsules of funk... and real songs. Beautifully buoyed by Erykah Badu's unmistakable vocals, Hey, Shooter brilliantly traverses metaphysical spaceways sans any semblance of noodling. Lolo and Follow-Fashion — featuring the open-hearted sensuality of Diawara's singing, M.anifest's quick, brawny science, and more brass blasts — play like its musical cousins or codas. Indeed, the album's shrewd sequencing creates the composite effect of tracks working both individually or within the context of an extended song-cycle.
The lovely ballad, Poison, is bittersweet and ruminative: 'If you're looking for love, beware the signs / They will paralyze you one by one / Poison, it will only break your heart.' Down-tempo and dubby, Check Out and Worries amplify the range of styles and moods. And by the time of Fatherless — a chugging Afro blues that evokes John Lee Hooker lost in Lagos, one gets the sneaking suspicion there's very little outside the reach of this collective's inventive musical grasp.
There is, in fact, a palpable openness pervading Rocket Juice & The Moon — the sense of a limber willingness to follow creative impulse — right down to how the group acquired its name. When Ogunajo Ademola — the Lagotian commissioned to do the album's cover artwork — dubbed his submission 'Rocket Juice & The Moon', it quickly morphed into the formal name of the project, like trying to hold onto mercury.
Surely, the stars above also approved.

The new album will be released across a series of 4 limited edition 12" vinyls. This is the 2nd 12 inch From Tronic Jazz The Berlin Sessions. A Guy Called Gerald has spent the last couple of years flitting through shadows, turning up on labels like Perlon, Beatstreet and Sender like a peripatetic prophet of the Berlin underground, seeding the scene with cryptic singles that return to the past to suggest alternate futures. Now he returns to Berlin's Laboratory Instinct label with the follow-up to 2006's Proto Acid: The Berlin Sessions, the album that re-established Gerald as an acid hero and techno auteur. Tronic Jazz: The Berlin Sessions builds upon the foundation established by its predecessor to create an even more powerful statement of intent, one that communicates more persuasively than ever Gerald's vision for techno in its third decade of existence. One immediate difference stands out, this time around. Where Proto Acid offered a seamless mix of 24 cuts, recorded in one epic session, Tronic Jazz collects 13 standalone tracks. That's welcome news to DJs. After so many years of digital anything-goes, you might have forgotten the kind of sounds that are possible with "old" machines: the way a lead stacked against tuned percussion and shrouded in pads can evoke still other sounds, hidden in the mix, or maybe not really there at all. It's a ghostly, suggestive presence, a kind of evocation of infinite possibility within the context of a limited set of inputs. In that sense, Tronic Jazz follows a certain minimalist impulse, but it's far too lush ever to be mistaken for the dread "mnml" of recent years. This stuff is wide-eyed and full of life. When it funks, it funks hard, and when it smoothes out, it can be as intimate as a hand-written note left on a lover's pillow. As "class ic" as Tronic Jazz may be, the album refutes any notion that "class ic" equals "retro," that the ideas have all been expressed before. Tronic Jazz takes the foundations of house and techno as though they were a kind of language, and speaks volumes with them.