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Hod (Antioquia, Colombia) is a maestro renowned for his rich textures and harmonic depth. Bringing his Midas touch to this remix, he transforms the piece into a deep and immersive sonic journey. The added ambient pad evokes the moment consciousness returns in an unfamiliar wilderness, carrying the listener to the edge of space and back.

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

Argentinian newbie Guile bossing it on the debut proper.
 
Moving mad from the off. Real ones will have been acquainted via last year’s ‘Access’ EP cameo, otherwise, you better get to know. 

Fellow ‘Access’ alumni Boss Priester and DJ Life tore it up with their respective solo EPs, and not to be outdone, Guile is taking on all comers. Expect some of the rudest incursions on the label to date rubbing shoulders with unreservedly utopian gear. 

Some shades of Rolando, AKA The Aztec Mystic, as the anthemic potential shines through on ‘Funky Rain’. Elsewhere, he’s fronting up with Euro-centric party-starters, third portal acid prog and 808 breakbeat menace. Dancefloor wreckers front to back.
 
Having only emerged in 2024, the hit-rate over such a short period is nothing short of prolific. Big flex.

H- side is etched
The American cable-television industry exploded in the 1980s, pushing broadcasts of diverse programming and emissions of low-laying cultures into homes. Community stations piggybacked on the digital developments of the time, extending their existence through telephony and broadcast a iliates. For those growing up in this time, in locations such as New York City, the localized communications beamed into their homes exposed them to an impressionable array of disparate sounds and visions.
Move into the 1990s and New York was filled to the brim of emergent cultures drawing from this ebullition of communication. From Rammellzee’s shapeshifting to the late Judy Russell and Frank and Karen Mendez’s Nu Groove imprint fusing reggae, poetry and house, nascent ideas emanated from the city walls, from within stores such as Sonic Groove store and on VHS releases such as Stakker’s The Evil Acid Baron Show, a legendary technicolor psychedelic trip along the wildest frontiers of acid house. As scenes expanded and identities developed, such individuals weather the events of the visceral now, expressing themselves right into an unpredictable future.
Function’s long career has seen him uncover a vast range of sonic identities, a mainstay through house, techno and industrial with collaborations with the likes of Regis, Damon Wild alongside his highly influential Infrastructure imprint. With influences deeply tied to pop art, rave and gay scenes, and early memories of block-parties emitting Kraftwerk and Strafe, he found himself seeking out the undercover illegal nights of the 90s on a quest of sexual unearthing, mixing the ever-yearning escapology mission of disco with the influential DJ sets of Jeff Mills.
For his new album Existenz, he marks a clear step away from the corporeal techno of his recent releases. Pivoting around themes of religion, sexuality, trauma and healing, it is a work expansive and celebratory, a clear liberation from a deeply internalized past. Formed from a collection of recordings made in a period from late 2016 to mid 2019, Existenz takes the form of a creative outburst in reaction to a number of traumas - recent, childhood and throughout Function’s life. Life partner Stefanie Parnow assisted the production process in its entirety, providing inspiration, spiritual healing and featuring vocal contributions.
Cosmic synths soar and swoop in ‘Pleasure Discipline’ through towering stacks of rhythm that stutter and creak to a halt before rebooting, a firm robotic response to human intervention. ‘Zahlensender’ reflects a spatial tetris of urban life, as digitalization set within an XYZ matrix confronts the sprawling city. Constant arpeggiated meditations echo synaptic transmissions, e ecting a dissolution of boundaries. ’The Approach’ recalls the unification of the self, a state of delirium non-subjective and smooth, as all connections and functions give way to simple intensities of feeling, crossing the threshold into spirituality. ’Golden Dawn’, featuring Stefanie Parnow, marks a further elevation of dubbed-out euphoria, as once more positive rays emerge. His ode to the effortless short-trip urban navigation 'Kurzstrecke' finds Function in motion, upfront and bold, snapshots of conversation and flickers of light. 'Ertrinken' finds metallic bass jabs swamping snipped synthetic voices, with hidden stores of emotion set as a nod to the history of vocoders as a tool for encrypted military communication. House icon Robert Owens features on 'Growth Cycle' and 'Be', entrenching a celebratory atmosphere over Function's clubwise leanings. Closing track 'Downtown 161' reflects the unmistakeable filtered and squashed interjections of television, and sampled dance vocals - a sound for the curious, dreamers and dancers.
With Existenz, Function reveals an essential body of work, spread over 4LP - thought experiments on the role of identity and spirituality after a lifetime of upheaval and trauma. Leading up until the release date, Function will undertake an album promo tour with select dates - A/V shows at Berlin Atonal and Rural festival in Japan, and three dates as part of his Bassiani residency.

This is not a Ben Vida, Booker Stardrum, and Will Epstein record; it’s a Play Time record. That’s a subtle but important distinction, for a couple reasons. One, the sound of Magic Object—a polymetric blend of improv and pulse minimalism for saxophone, drums, and Moog—doesn’t really sound anything like any of their many other ensembles or respective solo projects. And two, it was only while making Magic Object, their debut album, that Play Time realized they were a band at all.

Let’s back up. The roots of the trio date to 2020-21, when Will and then Booker moved to the Hudson Valley, where Ben was already living. The three got into the habit of playing together at Ben’s house, and they soon realized that their hang sessions felt fundamentally different from making music in some falling-down studio in Bushwick. Where those experiences were rushed and cramped, a new sense of time and space now suggested itself. Where once they rat-raced the music, now they relaxed into it.

Early gigs yielded similar revelations. A booking at Tubby’s, the beloved Kingston venue, evolved into a kind of residency. Tubby’s is a small space, fitting around 100 people, with a bar in the front room and a stage in the back. Play Time decided that they didn’t want to play on the stage; they wanted to play in front, among the people in the bar. Rather than hogging the spotlight and overpowering the other voices in the room, they blended with the energy of their surroundings and emerged as a sort of minimalist-jazz-krautrock bar band.

Gradually, they discovered a newfound “elasticity”—Ben’s word—that reshaped the music from inside. “It’s this communal thing,” he says. “It’s vibes. And it’s embedded in the community up here, which feels really vital and nourishing.” They were jamming, but it wasn’t just a free-for-all; they found themselves listening to each other in new ways. “Ben and Booker joke that they’re always playing in different time signatures,” Will says. “We’re all going forward with our own ideas, but we’re open to each others’ as well, and they’re all sort of dancing together.”

“We all have our painterly solo projects,” Will says—where, Booker adds, “we do a lot of studio arranging and thinking and composition that takes shape over a period of time.” Play Time, on the other hand, is all about being in the moment. That spontaneity was key to the process of recording the album. They booked two days in their friend Joey’s studio, a converted wooden barn. “It’s just a live room,” Booker says. “There’s no separation or anything. So we’re all in the space together and it’s got this beautiful, woody sound, and that’s very much the sound of the record.” For two days, they just jammed, for seven or eight hours each day. When it was over, they went through, edited down the portions they liked, and added very judicious overdubs designed to enhance the original recordings without fundamentally altering them, staying true to the spirit of the sessions.

The result is something like a snapshot and a mission statement all rolled into one. “You’re hearing us discover the voice of the band in real time,” Ben says. “We finished those sessions and we were like, ‘Oh, that’s what our band sounds like now.’”

Now, with Magic Object, the rest of us get to find out too.

—

Balmat is a label with a cloudy outline. Jointly shepherded by Albert Salinas and Philip Sherburne, two friends living in Cardedeu, Catalonia, and on the Balearic island of Menorca, Balmat grew out of Lapsus Radio, a weekly show born almost ten years ago. Balmat’s mission is simple: to foster new ideas, expand upon personal obsessions, and put enveloping sounds out into the world.

“Balmat” means “empty” or “void” in Catalan. But quite apart from any negative connotations, we prefer to think of it in terms of possibility: a space waiting to be filled.

Turn On The Sunlight is the long-running project of Texas-born, Maui-based musician and producer Jesse Peterson.

Originally formed in New York in the late 2000s, Turn On The Sunlight has evolved into a fluid, location-spanning practice rooted in collaboration, intuition and process. Now based on Maui, Peterson’s work draws together a wide network of musicians and environments, with recordings taking shape across Los Angeles, Tokyo, London, San Miguel de Allende and Haʻikū.

Loosely situated within a framework of organic, ambient-leaning jazz, 'Iseo' unfolds as a series of open, exploratory pieces, with electronics sitting subtly beneath acoustic and environmental elements. Built from layered instrumentation including synthesizers, guitar, zither, flutes, voice and field recordings, Peterson moves between grounded, tactile detail and more expansive, immersive states. A sense of warmth and permeability runs throughout: organic percussion, environmental textures and drifting rhythmic elements lend the record a gently saturated humidity, reflecting Peterson’s base in Hawaii, where the presence of nature is felt as much as it is heard.

Underlying the project is a way of working rooted in gathering, listening and tending. Instruments, ensemble sessions, field recordings and everyday environments are approached with attentiveness, shaped through collecting, refining and allowing things to settle. Relationships, landscape and lived experience shape the sound, giving 'Iseo' a tactile, almost hand-made quality.

Rather than fixed arrangements, the album feels as if it has been organically and lovingly assembled through a process of listening and response, each element finding its place within a wider, evolving whole. This approach reaches a natural centre point in the 15-minute piece 'Medianoche En La Calle Aurora', which unfolds patiently, bending through shifting environments as motifs and textures emerge and dissolve with quiet continuity.

Peterson’s role as both instigator and facilitator is central to the project. Bringing together a diverse group of collaborators including Carlos Niño, Mia Doi Todd, Laraaji, Ko Ishikawa, Luis Pérez Ixoneztli and Miles Spilsbury, he creates space for individual voices to emerge within a shared language. The result is a music defined by openness and generosity.

'Iseo' takes its title from Peterson’s son’s middle name, a word that can be understood to mean ‘one-world life’. The piece itself takes the form of a gentle lullaby, its melody loosely shaped around the syllables of his name and sung to Peterson’s son by Luis Pérez Ixoneztli, a close collaborator whose presence across the record reflects a long-standing relationship that extends beyond the music itself.
Sleeve art and design by Michael Willis.

Rave-o-lution - Teknology EP (HDK-3)is a manifesto disguised in project.

Forged in the raw energy of the underground, Rave-o-lution - Teknology EP explores the connection between machine, movement and collective consciousness. This is not nostalgia, it’s forward motion. Teknology as a tool, rave as a language, evolution as a necessity.

Across four different versions, the same core signal mutates and adapts, shifting pressure, tempo and density while staying locked to its original frequency. Each version is built for a different moment on the floor, from deep hypnosis to pure mechanical drive.

Sometimes a pad emerges in the break, a moment of suspension where emotion cuts through the structure. A brief opening. A breath inside the system. Proof that even the hardest teknology carries feeling beneath the steel.

HDK-3 is made for soundsystems at full power, bodies in sync, and minds ready to disconnect from the surface and dive deeper.

No compromise.
No decoration.
Just rave — evolved.

In a dystopian universe where elites manipulate memory to control the population. Vibracid emerges as a technique of liberation through sound: a method for erasing induced memory.

THE RHYME marks the counterattack phase. The insurgents infect the system used by the elites for control and reprogram it from within: patterns, voices and sequences as active code.

Contemporary bass, electro, breaks, acid and rave converge as transmission vectors. Each track operates as a unit of intervention within this science fiction scenario.

At this stage, new signals are incorporated. Power, with a solid trajectory within the underground circuit, opens the EP in a forceful way, with an acid, surprising and spectacular impact. Exieve, a young producer from Chernihiv, continues the attack with a raw tension where vocals cut through the signal like sharp fragments. Alongside them, Lups Digga, Atix, Parand and Calagad 13 continue expanding the system’s reach.

Fresh off an EP on Semantica and an album on MORD, Uun returns to his imprint Ego Death with the Panopticon EP. Uun showcases his range on these 6 tracks, running the gamut from dissonance to chord driven grooves.

The A side focuses on intensity. “Aesthetic Descent” features dual synth lines, slipping between melody and atonality. The straightforward percussion allows the listener to focus on the everchanging dynamics in the leads. “Structural Obedience” begins with a chugging groove, out of which a buzzsaw synth emerges. This track is a display of Uun’s ability to walk the line between minimalism and maximalism.

The B side focuses on the interplay between melody and groove. “Ralph’s Track” channels the dub chords of Basic Channel while applying a modern edge. “The Hidden System” features the lone vocal on the EP, sampled from the work of the late great David Lynch. The interplay between the 7⁄8 lead synth and 4/4 percussion creates a feeling of anticipation, where the patterns develop in unpredictable ways.

The digital exclusive tracks go into more experimental territory. “Queen’s Chamber” is a broken beat dirge, consisting of reverb drenched percussion and synths reminiscent of Dead Can Dance. The final track, “Shokunin”, is the counterpoint to Aesthetic Descent, closing out the release on a crushing yet hopeful note.

Pressed onto a unique custom turquoise and black hand poured color mix record inside a full printed jacket. The evocative artwork was created by Minneapolis based graphic designer Ryote.

Originally released in 2003, With A Heartbeat brings together Pharoah Sanders, Bill Laswell and Graham Haynes in a collaboration that remains as elusive as it is forward-thinking. Now reissued by Glossy Mistakes, the album receives its first official vinyl edition, remastered and available both in standard black and a limited burgundy pressing.

At the core of the record lies an unusual but striking element: the steady pulse of a human heartbeat. Rather than a conceptual gesture, it becomes the foundation of the music itself-treated as a deep, bass-like rhythm that anchors the entire album. Around it, Laswell builds his unmistakable sonic world, drawing from dub techniques where basslines expand, dissolve, and re-emerge, and where space becomes as important as sound.
Across its extended compositions, the album unfolds slowly and deliberately. Layers of electric sitar, guitar, keyboards and subtle percussion drift in and out, creating a fluid, almost tidal movement. The heartbeat remains present throughout, grounding even the most abstract passages in something physical and immediate.

At the center stands Sanders' saxophone-searching, expansive, and deeply spiritual. His playing moves freely across the structures, at times echoing the lineage of John Coltrane, while also reaching beyond it. Alongside him, Haynes adds a complementary voice, weaving through the shifting textures.

The result is a work that resists easy definition: part spiritual jazz, part future-facing experiment, shaped by dub's sense of space and transformation. Meditative, immersive, and deeply rhythmic, With A Heartbeat unfolds like a living organism-guided not by fixed tempo, but by the pulse of life itself.
With this release, Glossy Mistakes continues its work of bringing essential and forward-thinking recordings into new formats, preserving their depth while opening them to new listeners.

Originally released in 2003, With A Heartbeat brings together Pharoah Sanders, Bill Laswell and Graham Haynes in a collaboration that remains as elusive as it is forward-thinking. Now reissued by Glossy Mistakes, the album receives its first official vinyl edition, remastered and available both in standard black and a limited burgundy pressing.

At the core of the record lies an unusual but striking element: the steady pulse of a human heartbeat. Rather than a conceptual gesture, it becomes the foundation of the music itself-treated as a deep, bass-like rhythm that anchors the entire album. Around it, Laswell builds his unmistakable sonic world, drawing from dub techniques where basslines expand, dissolve, and re-emerge, and where space becomes as important as sound.
Across its extended compositions, the album unfolds slowly and deliberately. Layers of electric sitar, guitar, keyboards and subtle percussion drift in and out, creating a fluid, almost tidal movement. The heartbeat remains present throughout, grounding even the most abstract passages in something physical and immediate.

At the center stands Sanders' saxophone-searching, expansive, and deeply spiritual. His playing moves freely across the structures, at times echoing the lineage of John Coltrane, while also reaching beyond it. Alongside him, Haynes adds a complementary voice, weaving through the shifting textures.

The result is a work that resists easy definition: part spiritual jazz, part future-facing experiment, shaped by dub's sense of space and transformation. Meditative, immersive, and deeply rhythmic, With A Heartbeat unfolds like a living organism-guided not by fixed tempo, but by the pulse of life itself.
With this release, Glossy Mistakes continues its work of bringing essential and forward-thinking recordings into new formats, preserving their depth while opening them to new listeners.

2026 Repress

Initially conceived as a short-run cassette for Altered States Tapes, YL Hooi's nameless collection of textural apparitions oscillate between icy DIY minimalism, FX-drenched atmospherics and nang chamber dub. A ghost-like transmission, Hooi's voice serves to anchor an array of sonic abstractions and impressionistic melodic motifs as a sense of purgatorial ambience dominates throughout. Co-produced with alleged fellow Kallista Kult member Tarquin Manek (LST, M. Quake), Untitled's ultimate sensation is its halfway state, as if caught between worlds.

The album's final form speaks of its origins, recorded intermittently over a two year period (2017-2019). The extended time passage seeps into the song structures, spiralling and mutating from the same centre - the elegiac pulse of opener 'Title' presages the hymnal lilt of 'Straight Thru', before birthing the inverted bossa nova of 'W/O Love'. The result is a constantly shifting tableaux of shared liminal spaces. These songs seemingly emerge in plumes of smoke, magician's tricks conjured from the ether. It's a vision that ossifies at Untitled's midpoint with a cover of Love Joys' 'Stranger', the lovers rock original morphed into the transportive intimacy of Hooi's own hazy inner space, a totem of the LP's amorphous and ultimately sensuous qualities.

The sound from both down under and way out there in subspace, Untitled is an inspired masterstroke of experimental mystics. This 2021 Efficient Space edition is remastered and robed in new artwork that honours the Melbourne-based earth dragon's Chinese and Russian heritage.

In their third collaboration, the shared project between Merzbow and Pedro Vian shifts towards less confrontational and more introspective terrain. Bardo Thödol, released as an LP, draws on The Tibetan Book of the Dead not so much as an explicit narrative framework but as a conceptual resonance: a passage, a suspension between states.
Where Inside Richard Serra Sculptures and The Wheel of Mani foregrounded a relatively defined dialectic between Vian’s environmental restraint and Masami Akita’s impulsive, textural excess, that friction here appears to dissolve in favour of a more homogeneous mass. Noise, far from its most abrasive edge, is reconfigured as a continuous field — dense yet permeable.
Within this flow, melodic structures emerge without assertion, surfacing almost incidentally as by-products of the accumulation of frequencies itself. The result is less a reconciliation of languages than a blurring of their boundaries: a space in which intensity is internalised and the radical gesture folds into a more sustained, contemplative mode of listening.

Newly remastered version of Oren Ambarchi’s long out-of-print classic Hubris originally released on Editions Mego in 2016. Expertly remastered by audio wizard Joe Talia who worked with the original mixes, highlighting the myriad details of the audio with forensic precision, previously unheard up until now.

From the 2016 press release:
Hubris continues the exploration of relentless, driving rhythms heard on Ambarchi’s Sagittarian Domain (2012) and Quixotism (2014). Where those records looked to Krautrock and techno for their starting points, the sidelong opening track here begins from the perhaps unlikely inspirations of disco and new wave, drawing particularly from Ambarchi’s love of Wang Chung’s soundtrack to William Friedkin’s To Live and Die in L.A. Leaving behind the song-forms of these reference points, Ambarchi weaves a sustained and pulsating web of layered palm-muted guitars from which individual voices rise up and recede, eventually setting the stage for some lush guitar synth from Jim O’Rourke. Arnold Dreyblatt collaborator Konrad Sprenger contributes overtone-rich motorized guitar, pushing the piece into a satisfying intersection of shimmering minimalism and rhythmic drive that smoothly builds up until the entrance of Mark Fell’s electronic percussion in its final section.
After a short second part, in which Ambarchi, O’Rourke and crys cole pay tribute to the skewed harmonic sense of Albert Marcoeur with a track built from layered guitar figures and abstracted speech, the long final piece pushes the concept of the first side into darker and denser areas. Joined by electronics from Ricardo Villalobos and the twin drums of Will Guthrie and Joe Talia, the layered guitars of the first piece are transformed into a raw and tumbling fusion-funk groove that calls to mind early Weather Report or even the first Golden Palominos LP. As this stellar rhythm section rides a single repeated chord change into oblivion, a series of spectacular events emerge in the foreground: first, aleatoric synthesizer burbles from Keith Fullerton Whitman, then slashing skronk guitar from Arto Lindsay, until finally Ambarchi’s own fuzzed-out harmonics take center stage as the piece builds to an ecstatic frenzy. Few artists could hope to include such an incredible variety of collaborators on one record and still hope for it to have a unique identity, but Ambarchi manages to do just that, crafting three pieces that emerge directly out of his previous work while also pushing ahead into new dimensions.
Players: Oren Ambarchi, crys cole, Mark Fell, Will Guthrie,
Arto Lindsay, Jim O’Rourke, Konrad Sprenger, Joe Talia, Ricardo Villalobos, Keith Fullerton Whitman.

Nicaraguan-American artist Dagmar Zuniga makes music that feels both intimate and expansive: songs drift like disrupted signals, carried by harmony, tape hiss, and a strong sense of touch. Her debut solo album in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music — written and recorded in New York, Norway, and Athens, Georgia over a period of five years on her longtime companion, the Tascam 424 — was uploaded to Bandcamp and YouTube in January 2025, quickly garnering over two hundred thousand views and the attention of artists such as Mount Eerie, who invited her to tour with them that summer. This year, what was once a jewel of tapped-in algorithms and message boards will meet the world at large, with in filth arriving digitally on March 4, and physically on April 10, via AD 93.

in filth is an atmospheric, devotional collage where one voice multiplies into a chorus of selves, sometimes delicate, sometimes severe; an effect created by Zuniga’s masterful layering of texture and complex harmonies. Synths glitter out like spears of sunlight from beneath clouds of moody, time-distorted guitars, and songs spin about themselves like tightly-wound music boxes, making use of a kind of hypnotic repetition, before melting apart into their components or slipping into the following track.

Zuniga began recording to tape as a teenager, drawn to the physicality of the medium — how a tape recording is fragile, mutable, and alive. Though her ethereal sound may draw easy comparisons to other female pioneers of psychedelic folk, she is influenced just as much by the darker sounds of Syd Barrett and The Fall. Like Barrett, Zuniga is a painter, and she is interested not only in recording music but in creating a full, self-contained artistic universe: she creates her own artwork, merchandise, music videos, and bootleg tapes of new and unfinished music that she exclusively sells at live shows (“If something is not material, it does not exist,” she insists). Her world has not gone unvisited, garnering her a monthly show on NTS Radio ‘World of Pain’, as well as a forthcoming appearance at Rewire Festival in April 2026.

Though Zuniga’s work explores themes of solitude and suffering, the suffering in her songs is not borrowed or displayed; it is held, then opened outward through empathy — an exacting practice of attention that insists on shared ground. Solitude, in her work, is not withdrawal but a starting point for connection. Likewise, over time, her recording process has become increasingly communal, with in filth featuring musicians Hayes Hoey, Austyn Wohlers (Tomato Flower), and Zach Phillips (Fievel Is Glauque). Newer recordings widen the circle even more. For Zuniga, collaboration is a way to “find a place between worlds,” echoing Badiou’s idea of love as a vision refracted through the prism of difference. Meaning emerges there — in the space between voices, between artist and listener. “I hope my music helps people work through difficult experiences,” she says. “The same way it helps me.”

Pearl River Sound emerges on Elektorni with a four-tracker of break-beats, bleepy emotion and downtempo acid.

It's 5 AM. The golden hour. That moment suspended on the lips of the night that is leaving us. Where the dance still refuses to die as sweat dries, bodies float and minds drift. Some immerse themselves in the dripping surroundings while others emerge or pretend. Outside, nature reclaims its rights. When the moon sets over Kizipolis, the music doesn't stop: it transforms us.

To celebrate our 10th anniversary, the pillars of the label were invited to compose the track they would play at this precise moment. The one that no longer seeks to prove itself, that accompanies the ebb of shadows, connecting the senses to the light.

Kizipolis Vol.1 is the soundtrack to an imaginary but familiar city, a city where raving is a way of life, where music acts as a climate, where at 5am, anything is still possible.

2025 Reissue.



Münchenbuchsee, a suburb of Bern, Switzerland. Stephan Eicher is the youngest of three children. His father, a radio and TV repairman, is also a jazz violinist and a sound tinkerer in his spare time. In the family home's converted fallout shelter turned studio, Mr. Eicher experiments with homemade sequencers, tortures handcrafted drum machines, and abuses reel-to-reel tape recorders—all under the fascinated gaze of young Stephan.

The boy quickly develops a musical curiosity, exploring sound through various experiments and wanderings. Alongside his younger brother Martin, Stephan crafts audio plays on a homemade multi-track recorder (essentially several cassette decks hooked together!), which they write, record, add sound effects to, and perform for family and friends. Just a couple of nice kids, really...

Then comes 1972, and Lou Reed's Transformer album changes everything for the Eicher kids. For 13-year-old Stephan, it's a revelation—especially "Vicious", the opening track, which he plays on repeat for months. He convinces his father to buy him an electric guitar. Not stopping there, his father also builds him a tube amp using an old radio.

Then comes adolescence. A rough one. Stephan leaves home at 16 and moves to Zurich. With obvious artistic talent, he persuades his art teacher to help him get into F+F, a radical, alternative art school—despite his young age. Accepted, he starts learning video techniques, determined to become a filmmaker.

At F+F, Stephan organizes Dada-style happenings and concerts with a group of friends known as the Noise Boys. Among them: one of his teachers on bass, Veit Stauffer on drums (who would later found ReR/Recommended Records), his girlfriend Sacha on vocals, and Stephan on guitar. In one of their early performances, they release a remote-controlled mouse covered in dull razor blades into the audience to create panic and chaos. Keeping with this aggressive, confrontational spirit, they once played a concert while wearing headphones blasting Tristan and Isolde, trying to perform their own songs simultaneously—to maximize the cacophony. The goal was always the same: clear the room.

Their “songs,” if you can call them that, followed suit. Take "Hungeriges Afrika", for instance—performed entirely with power drills and some drum feedback.

To make ends meet, Stephan returns to Bern on weekends to work as a waiter at the Spex Club, the city’s main punk venue. On September 16, 1980, during a show by proto-electro group Starter, the police raid the club and arrest everyone. Stephan, who manages to avoid arrest, seizes the opportunity to “borrow” Starter’s gear left behind. He suddenly finds himself in possession of a Roland Promars synth, a Korg MS20, and a gorgeous CR78 drum machine, which he runs through a Big Muff distortion pedal to get that perfect gritty sound.

He then sets out to reinterpret some Noise Boys tracks, reworking them during impromptu sessions recorded on a dictaphone (yes, a dictaphone—now the lo-fi sound makes more sense, doesn’t it?). He ironically titles the resulting cassette "Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys" ("Stephan Eicher plays Noise Boys"). This gem features seven tracks, which are the ones reissued here.

Back in Zurich, he visits his friends Andrew Moore and Robert Vogel, who have a DIY cassette duplication setup. They make 25 copies of Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys for Stephan and his friends. Robert encourages him to visit Urs Steiger of Off Course Records and play him the tape.

Without much hope, Stephan shows up at Urs’s office. But Urs is instantly hooked and suggests releasing a 7” single. Due to space constraints, they reluctantly drop two of the seven tracks ("Hungeriges Afrika" and "One Second"). As for the musical score featured on the cover—it was randomly chosen and remains a mystery to this day. Calling all music theory nerds!

The 7-inch is pressed in 750 copies and released in the first week of December 1980—a date Stephan remembers well, as it’s the same week John Lennon was killed. Smartly, Urs sends a promo copy to François Murner, Switzerland’s answer to John Peel, who hosts a show on alternative station Sounds. Murner falls in love with the record and starts giving it airtime. To Stephan’s surprise, sales follow—and people actually seem interested in his music.

Even this modest underground success scares Stephan a bit. He stops making music for a year and moves to Bologna, where he works as a programmer at Radio Città, a feminist radio station.

Meanwhile, Stephan’s younger brother Martin, who’s also involved in the punk scene, joins the band Glueams as a singer and guitarist. Glueams, named after the fanzine run by two of its members (drummer Marco Repetto and bassist GT), eventually rebrands as Grauzone. Stephan is invited to their shows to project hacked Super 8 visuals live on stage.

Urs Steiger, now working on a compilation titled Swiss Wave – The Album, asks Grauzone to contribute alongside bands like Liliput, Jack and the Rippers, The Sick, and Ladyshave (Fall 1980).

For the album, Martin tasks Stephan with producing their recording sessions. Under Stephan's artistic direction, two tracks emerge: "Raum" and "Eisbär". During "Eisbär", Martin plays a minimalist bass line borrowed from post-punk band The Feelies (just an open string). Drummer Marco Repetto struggles to keep time. Later that evening, unhappy with the takes, Stephan builds a four-bar drum loop from a ¼-inch tape and uses it instead of the flawed original. He then adds bleepy synths and wind sounds to complete the track’s icy vibe before handing it over to Urs.

The Swiss Wave – The Album compilation is released quietly at first, but things snowball thanks to "Eisbär", which eventually becomes a smash hit—selling over 600,000 singles.

Meanwhile, Stephan plays in a rockabilly band called SMUV (named after Switzerland’s social security agency) and begins producing artists, including the debut album of Starter (1981), which includes a more pop-oriented version of "Minijupe".

By early 1982, Stephan starts spending time with the post-punk girl band Liliput (formerly Kleenex). They’re older than him, and he happily drives them around in his Renault Major, acting as their roadie.

By 1983, Grauzone—signed to the major label EMI, which turned out to be a misstep—is falling apart. Stephan begins to pivot toward a more mainstream pop sound with his debut solo album Les Chansons Bleues.

But that... is already another story.

Engaging artistically with the unique oeuvre of the Pet Shops Boys through the form of cover versions is both an appealing and risky endeavour. Hundreds of such adaptations already exist, and covering songs is a complex undertaking, one that Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe themselves have mastered to perfection.

Exciting cover versions involve a skillful game of allusions and references, quotations and are entangled with personal as well as borrowed memories. Cover versions are homage, appropriation and interpretation — in many ways like adding letters in a Scrabble game: a new word, a new meaning emerge. Or, in the best case, a new song.

With her first debut EP ’Heart’, due for release in April 2026, Cat Storm dives into this labyrinth. It includes beguiling and intimate versions of 'Heart', ‘The Way It Used To Be’, ‘A Man Could Get Arrested’ and ‘Home And Dry’. The artist behind Cat Storm is Carmen Strzelecki. Born in Lörrach, raised in Mannheim and relocating to Cologne in the 1990s, Carmen has become an integral part of the Cologne art and culture scene since founding her publishing house ‘StrzeleckiBooks’ in 2009.

She produced her EP herself in collaboration with some of the grand masters of the Rhineland indie and electro aristocracy. The remixes by Christian Skrzypek, oskø and Clima ensure that it is well-suited for clubs.

Three years after the release of Volume 1, Innershades returns to home turf with a second entry in his Heritage series. The New Beat territory that its predecessor tackled serves as the starting point for the A-side of Volume 2 as well. The glistening arpeggios and choir patches on "Mind State", alongside the unyielding kicks, alarm-like synth lines and plodding tempo of "System Breakdown," reaffirm how the genre's hallmarks smoothly align with the artist's own inclinations. The B-side draws from the broad spectrum of styles that emerged a bit later, in the beginning of the nineties, when it seemed the dance floor would move unimpeded between and bridge genres, its boundaries often not as firmly established. "Fuse Memory" nudges the pace forward, driven by the 909 and a staple hypnotic lead. When the drums come to a halt, a 303 emerges to flesh out the break. "Rhythm Composer" continues in a similar early techno vein, but pulls the track into outer space via its formant-heavy leads and Detroit-tinged sci-fi sweeps. On ALT023 Innershades appears in fine fettle, providing another batch of up-front club tracks that approach history as motion rather than memory, translating the past into forward momentum.

Restock

Collateral Intelligence's Butterflies in Funerals is widescreen, sometimes dark, often hopeful electronica with one eye on the stars, but grounded in the sheer cathartic necessity of its creation.

The new moniker from Maltese wunderkind Neil "Acidulant" Hales, the album was formed during a turbulent period in the artist's life, when his father was seriously ill in hospital. Butterflies in Funerals is his way of expressing the complexity of emotion he was going through at the time.

"To me it all looked like a very dark movie," he says. "That's why the tracks are are at times cold or have a sad, emotional, or hopeful feeling."

Drawing on his impressive background in acid house and electro – with releases on Balkan Vinyl and Jack Trax – the album takes in mutant breakbeat, battle-scarred ambient, and tripped out 303 grooves, but pushes his sound further and deeper than ever before.

The album cover features specially designed artwork by rising star Fei Meng, who will be exhibiting at the Royal Society of British Artists later this year.

So in 2021 join Collateral Intelligence on a journey into the recesses of the soul, and emerge, purified, and ready for the rest of the trip.

The latest in Field Records' run of essential vinyl pressings revisits Stephen Hitchell's 2009 masterpiece under his Variant alias, The Setting Sun. As part of Echospace and also celebrated for his productions as Intrusion and Soultek, Hitchell is considered a leading light in dub techno, with the versatility in his sound to range from rhythmic, physical pulses to purely tonal, abyssal drone. His work as Variant, which debuted with The Setting Sun, capitalises on this scope to deliver a compelling ambient-with-teeth set richly deserving of a proper vinyl pressing.

The Setting Sun first emerged on Echospace as a download-only release. Hitchell was at pains to map out the tools that went into the sound on the album — field recordings of storms in Berlin, Germany and train rides in Narita, Japan, outboard synths and samplers. Crucially, he declared no computers were used, and it shows. When The Setting Sun was recorded, in-the-box production was largely dominating electronic music and the technology had yet to replicate the warmth and character of analogue equipment. Hitchell's looming chords come baked with harmonic overtones, surface noise becomes another essential layer and fragments of distortion add to the narrative of these glacial, monumental pieces.

Hitchell threads his dub techno tendencies in subtle ways, from the kick pattering underneath 'As Time Stood Still' to the quintessential metallic delay ripples that define 'A Silent Storm'. 'Someplace Else' has a defined, albeit delicate, rhythm section guiding its lighter shades of pads and chords. However, drums are never a dominant aspect of the music, simply another layer in an intentionally coagulated whole. At times, flickering tones hint at space where percussion once stood, since muted to leave the wet signal setting a new course for the sound, somewhere far beyond drum duties. The hushed ceremony of tracks like 'Adrift' are the perfect scenario in which to absorb these microfibres of detail, where the genius of Hitchell can truly be savoured.

In line with the limitations of record pressing and Hitchell's proclivity for long-form tracks, 'The Setting Sun' is reserved for the digital edition of this reissue. It's a logical move, as the sound palette widens to encompass tangible, organic instrumentation evolving over the best part of half an hour. The presence of piano keys feels stark in the Variant sound world, but Hitchell ably folds these coded elements into his process bathed in the same curious luminosity that lingers around all his work. Evolving at a painstaking pace, the plaintive humanity in the cascading keys and plucked guitar strings renders one of the most personal expressions in Hitchell's considerable canon — a unique piece that holds its own space comfortably, while also adding to the overall weight of The Setting Sun as a profound benchmark in a stellar discography.

DISPLACES represents Fabris' most personal musical journey to date, inspired by the concept of hyperobjects and cartographic practices. The album sculpts a high-dimensional phased time-space composed of concrete materials and digital archetypes in a state of constant displacement. It delves into the symbolic and philosophical realms of mapping as one of the greatest sense-making mechanisms for life, in dialogue with object-oriented environments, superimposition and non-locality applied to cosmic, temporal, and emotional memory.

The sonic ecosystem expands on the image of navigating a path through a set of places, from the microcosm of quanta to the macro force of dark matter, from underwater depths to overland terrains, encapsulating the cyclical flow between birth and death, both in ecological and anthropological sense. The intersection of these shifting states is explored through the extensive processing of the langspil, Iceland's only traditional instrument, intertwined with manipulated field recordings of biophonies and geophonies captured across Icelandic and Venetian territories. These recordings form the backdrop for a meditative process that relocate familiar objects into unfamiliar realms, reflecting on the transformative power of self-reflection while encapsulating the fragmentation and entanglement found in nature and the human state. The record plunges the listener into a disconcerting and physical soundscape, as a “ghostly spectrality that comes in and out of phase with normalized human spacetime,” evoking sensations of suffocation and release as each layer continuously unfolds the palimpsest of the enclosed labyrinth.

“Extraction of the I” embodies a subatomic reaction—erupting as a molecular force that rises, only to re-submerge with a solitary exhale underwater. In this mutated dark space, beluga whales breathe into "Xanadu Phasing," creating a pulsating tension that releases only to unveil a frozen landscape.

In “Barricading the Ice Sheets” the glacial material morphs into a liquid tunnel of digital artifacts, building a wall of noise that shatters into scattered fragments of ice, resembling bird calls from another world.

A moment of stasis is offered with the appearance of an asymmetrical loop in Monolith I, evoking a primitive rite before an unknown force emerges.

The physical intensity of subsonic material in "A Quake in Being" interrupts the hieratic tone, detuning into polluted sonic matter sourced from relics of the First World War in the Venetian Prealps. The geography of this place reconciles with the original homeland in "The Map is the Territory," blending negative space with anthropogenic elements and exploited sounds of the langspil.

The burning density of "Wolf-Rayet" projects into the void, echoing the residual sounds of a local church as relics of fossilized religions. Wolf tones are the remains in Monolith II, introducing the final track, "Topography of Extinction," where evolving psilocin textures invite the listener to uncover deeper layers of meaning and dislocation.

Signaling their long-anticipated debut on ICONYC, the label welcomes acclaimed Italian duo Glowal with their Future Faces EP. Uncompromising in its intent, this two-track capsule extends the duo’s emotional vocabulary, threading new ideas through their unmistakable sonic lens for a release that underscores the expressive precision at the heart of their craft.

Casting their gaze forward on “Future Faces”, Fabio Giannelli and Alessandro Gasperini open proceedings with a fractured rhythmic chassis driven by a throbbing low-end pulse that warps with each passing beat. Heavy percussive strikes carve their path into the night before a disarming female vocal emerges from the shadows, injecting a sense of yearning and fragile wonder into the piece. A sudden brake—like tires skidding across rain-slick asphalt—ushers in laser-etched synth lines that cry out with an anthemic resolve, while iridescent sequences bubble to the surface, sealing a striking first statement on the label.

Turning the corner, Glowal unveil the esoteric “Desert Soul,” a slow-burning reverie that expands on the EP’s emotional terrain. Patiently unfolding over fragmented rhythms and a meandering bassline, neon traces guide us toward a robotic vocal presence that introduces a subtle human-machine tension. Stripped to a minimal core yet rich in sentiment, “Desert Soul” resonates with quiet introspection—an understated meditation on self-discovery that lingers well beyond its final echo.

Pariter return with a second archival reissue from three key figures of the original London tech house movement, David Coker, Timmy S and Justin Baileys.

This double header pairs a heavyweight house groover on the A side with a rolling acid tech house cut on the flip. The A side is driven by commanding vocal samples and Timmy's finely tuned engineering, channeling the raw, sound-system focused energy that defined the era's most enduring club records.

On the B side, a relentless acid-fuelled roller emerges from the vaults, a secret weapon that has remained deadly on underground dance floors for more than two decades, quietly championed by those in the know.

Now, 26 years on, original copies are nearly impossible to find in clean condition with rare copies regularly changing hands for hundreds of euros on the collector's market.

Carefully restored and remastered by Yossi Amoyal, this reissue revives a long lost and highly sought after underground classic.

Nacar02: Totem Pulse EP


Totem Pulse emerges as a coded breath slow, persistent, alive.
A rhythm not built for time, but for alignment.
The pulse does not command.It attunes.

Bodies orbit the frequency.
Thought dissolves into motion.
The totem stands invisible,
yet everything moves around it.

LIMITED EDITION 200 COPIES

Blue Hour distills over a decade of artistry into his debut album Selva, unearthing eight tracks inspired by ancient wisdom and forgotten worlds.
Blue Hour is the moniker of Luke Standing, a multifaceted artist, producer, and label owner navigating between past and present electronic dance music. Over more than a decade, Standing has built a career balancing transformative craft with a sharp curatorial approach, earning him respect across the global scene. After years of sonic experimentation, he now releases his debut LP Selva. “I never set out to make an LP – it just wrote itself,” he says. “I followed my intuition, and the music found its own path.”
Born and raised in the UK, Standing grew up in parallel with club culture, moving between Brighton, Bristol and Berlin while running club nights and establishing himself under former aliases Furesshu and Esoteric.
He launched his Blue Hour project in late 2013, shortly after relocating to Berlin. Initially a platform for his own music, Blue Hour quickly became a collaborative hub, blurring the lines between personal output and curation. Over time, Standing has cultivated an international ecosystem of like-minded artists while continuously expanding his own sonic horizons.
Selva marks his first full-length studio album, weaving a lifetime of influences into a cohesive narrative inspired by ancient wisdom and forgotten worlds. The eight-track double LP transforms his inner dialogue into a subconscious story pulling inspiration from a labyrinthine network of influence and experience. “I followed the music obsessively, reflecting and refining until the story revealed itself,” Standing explains.
“To me, the LP evokes Amazonian or Mayan jungles, themes of exploration, the mysteries of the natural world, wisdom passed down through generations. I didn't set out to write about these things consciously,
they just emerged on their own.” he adds.The album was shaped through intensive work in his studio and periods spent in subtropical locations.
Listening closely, Selva unfolds like a modern ceremony: the opening tracks channel his early UK dance influences, shifting into blends of traditional and contemporary techno, then expanding into melodic soundscapes before concluding with transcendental textures and atmospheres. The result is an introspective journey where functionality and emotive storytelling coexist, revealing a depth in Blue Hour we haven’t heard before.
Whether performing, curating, or producing, Standing operates with a deep commitment to sound, culture, and collaboration. More than an artist, he is an architectural thinker of what electronic music could become. “Every release is my own metamorphosis,” he says. “This LP reflects my current form, and I’m curious to see what the next chapter brings.” Few artists can unify a lifetime of genre-spanning influences into a sound as sharp and focused. On Selva, Blue Hour does exactly that, opening a new era of deeper
immersion from his Berlin-based label.

2026 Repress

Glaskin is the alias of two brothers, Jonathan and Ferdinand, based in Munich. The pair have emerged as key figures in the citys electronic music scene as longtime residents of the renowned Blitz Club, standing out a homegrown talents amongst its vibrant electronic landscape. Bringing a unique, forward-thinking techno style, as evidenced by their contributions to Mutual Rytms Federation Of Rytm II and III compilations in previous years, they now mark a new chapter and open 2025 in style with their debut 12 on the label, Inertia Of Motion. Each cut on the EP has been handcrafted with analogue gear, reflecting their distinctive artistic and sonic vision. The release is a direct outcome of the creative process behind their live set, which has become an integral part of the duos identity and shows a natural evolution of their singular sound.

Hush Up kicks things off with deep, rubbery and rolling techno rhythms. The drums are stripped back and laced with pulsing synth patterns and spoken word snippets that add a freaky edge. Double Tap ups the anti with classic, pumping deep techno with smart filters adding movement to the track as urgent leads hurry onwards. Inertia bring a more anxious atmosphere with tightly coiled drums and perc and eerie bell sounds ring out over the fat, twisted bassline. The brilliant Tank brings mind-melting loopy techno with dubby chords and textured leads warming their way between the beats to great effect, while Motion is suspenseful techno that locks you into a high speed groove peppered with thumping hits and kicks. Last of all, digital bonus Blushed Blue explores a moody, minimal, late night techno sound that is warm, stylish and hypnotic to close the show

V.I.C.A.R.I. (the acclaimed alias of UK producer Tommy Vicari Jnr) emerges with "Float In," a high-impact release tailored for dance floors and vinyl enthusiasts alike. The title track pulses with disco-inspired stabs layered over crisp, modern production, capturing both nostalgic club energy and contemporary momentum. Tracks like "September Again" delve into deeper territory, offering immersive atmospheres and understated grooves that highlight V.I.C.A.R.I.'s sophisticated touch and adaptability for various times. As usual this will be a Vinyl Only, No Repress affair.

Music For Parents is a low-frequency, vibroacoustically informed album developed through research into sound, rest, and nervous system regulation. Composed between 2019 and 2020, the record explores slow-moving bass structures and reduced harmonic density, inviting a form of listening that is felt as much as heard.

The work emerged from a personal process, shaped by a desire to support rest and release through sound. Music For Parents takes its title reflecting on the dynamics of parent–child relationships - formative environments that shape emotional, sensory, and relational orientation, often without clear language or shared understanding.

While effective on standard playback systems, the album can also be paired with vibroacoustic devices such as bass transducers or wearable low-frequency systems for enhanced somatic engagement.

There are records that do not so much belong to an era as they pass through it, leaving traces rather than statements, circulating in the margins where function outweighs discourse. World Cup, written at the end of the 1990s by Kiko, emerged in precisely that way — as a techno track whose presence was felt less through promotion than through repetition, carried from booth to booth, absorbed into the working vocabulary of DJs who recognized in it something immediate and self-evident. Its architecture is minimal yet insistent, driven by tension and release, a form of clarity that resists ornament and instead privileges duration, pressure, and movement.

When it resurfaced in 2006, it did not return as a revision but as a continuation, reaffirming its role within the ecology of the dancefloor. The same internal logic remained intact, allowing it to re-enter circulation without friction, as though it had simply been waiting to be picked up again. In both instances, the track operates less as a fixed object than as a tool — something to be used, extended, and recontextualized in real time.

Bringing together these two versions alongside Tainted Life, the release traces a subtle but telling trajectory. If World Cupdefines a certain techno functionalism, Tainted Life reveals another dimension: a proto-Italo sensibility that gestures toward what would later coalesce as electroclash, not through stylistic declaration but through texture, tone, and attitude. Long absent from digital circulation and largely confined to obscurity, it appears here not as a rediscovery, but as a piece whose relevance has simply remained latent.

Nothing has been added, nothing has been altered beyond what was necessary to restore presence. The recordings are allowed to exist in their own continuity, detached from the temporal markers that might otherwise confine them.

The artwork, conceived by H5, extends this approach into the visual field. Its restraint is not aesthetic minimalism for its own sake, but a form of structural clarity, where composition and absence articulate a space in which the record can be encountered without interference, as if resurfacing from a parallel timeline that never fully closed.

After the acclaimed Bar Mediterraneo, Massimo Di Lena and Lucio Aquilina return with People Of The Moon, expanding their sound into a space of creative freedom. The “People of the Moon” are not fictional, but a dimension within us all: a deeply personal yet universal force, an alternative mindset that emerges when freed from social constraints.



Under moonlight, the album explores anxieties and aspirations through groove and rhythm, expressed in Neapolitan, Arabic, English, Spanish, and Portuguese. It moves fluidly from Afro-Cuban influences in “Celavì” to Anatolian textures in “Ma Tu Che Bbuò”, blending highlife guitars with Nu Genea’s signature mandolins-new rhythms filtered through an Italian lens.



The first single “Sciallà” (2025) introduced this direction: dance as catharsis, not escape. The title track reflects a quiet resilience-persistent rather than triumphant. “Onenon”, featuring Tom Misch, channels Mediterranean brit-funk, while “Acelera”, with María José Llergo, evokes a flamenco-tinged pursuit of the unattainable.



“Puleza” recalls Nuova Napoli with driving energy and vintage synths, while “Shway Shway”, sung by Celinatique, captures the album’s orbital flow-measured, rich, and rhythmically complex, echoing afrobeat explorations with Tony Allen.



Melody remains central, as in “Carè”. Across ten tracks, falling, flying, and dancing merge in a suspended groove. Gabriel Prado’s “Ondas Do Mar” embodies this pull: a cyclical motion, like the tides—irresistible, transformative, and alive within us.

Hidden Spheres is a Rhythm Section mainstay for a reason: having released 3 EPs on the label, he has
developed his sound and fully emerged into a flow state. His residency at Public Records has enabled him to mould an EP perfect for any dancefloor, perfecting a Detroit indebted House style with influences from early Kerri Chandler and Ron Trent perfect for those heads down, hands-up moments.

Delivering 5 tracks that master dancefloor tension, it's difficult to pick a stand out. “Come On, Yeh” harks
back to the New Jersey House sound with dubby organ chord stabs and punchy 909 drums and a sublime bongo loop. “Don’t You Wanna” welcomes the house dancers, with a low-slung, heavily swung groove, resampled pads, and a deep spoken refrain that gives the track its title. Kicking off the B-side “Get Down” hits the subs, with unmistakably phat bass, moody strings and broad use of the iconic M1 organ bass patch “Organ2”. Followed by “I Feel Good” brings police sirens, 808s and swirling pads, to a glorious Deep House tune with a top chime motif that keeps the party moving. The final track of the B side, “You Don’t Know”, takes things down a notch, but maintaining the sublime tension with classic house piano chords and another wicked percussive loop.

Hidden Spheres has returned to his unadulterated House roots, with an EP that stays true to the classic sound. He has shaped an awesome body of work with character from deep spoken word samples, perfect use of dub sirens and grooves that can give any club a reason to invest in bigger

INDUSTRIAS MEKANIKAS is back with the third instalment of the ANTIKHRIST VISIONS saga. This release is particularly symbolic: it’s the ninth in the catalogue, marked by the infernal numerology that runs right through the whole series. It’s a descent into a sonic underworld, where noise becomes ritual and pleasure is just pure agony.

The artist tasked with opening this new chapter of the saga is the mighty Óscar Mulero, an essential figure on the national electronic scene and one of our biggest international ambassadors, whose career has left a deep mark on contemporary music. Here, with Faceless, he delves into dark, precise, and devastating electro territory; a spiritual machine that dictates the pulse of chaos.

Next up, we’ve got Pressurized Modulator with Reddrum: hard, crunchy, industrial electro, absolutely buzzing with electrical tension and twisted sonic matter.
Closing out the A-side is Jacko Volvone (aka Hoax Believers) with Quieren Cerrar Las Fábricas: a track that expertly blends electro, techno, and post-punk echoes, resulting in a tense, distorted, and combative sound, like a working-class echo shouting from the abyss.

Flipping over, the B-side opens with Hanging Nuts (made up of Waje Martín, Fake Robotik, and Ruben Montesco). They unleash a murky descent of filthy, distorted, primal electro, slashed through with guitars and raw, guttural vocals: a genuine chant from beyond the grave. The second cut marks the debut of Techselektah & Phil Fork with Champagne No Potable: a raging street anthem packed with fury, energy, and social criticism, where Spanish vocals emerge amidst EBM structures that have that ‘80s spirit, reinterpreted with today’s raw edge. And the big finish is down to HBK1 alongside Rigor Mortis, with Instinto Caníbal: a full-on explosion of electro-industrial and EBM that awakens the body’s most primitive urges.

Antikhrist Visions Vol. III is a sonic summoning from the lands of Hades: ritualistic matter, organic sound, and primal force. A testament to pleasure and torment—Tormento do Gostar—etched into the vinyl as if it were molten iron.

Memento Mori.

Gatefold Sleeve

M’Bamina – African Roll (1975)
The story of an album born between Africa, Italy, and the nightclub culture of the 1970s
In the heart of 1970s Italy — a country undergoing profound social change and a music scene just beginning to open itself to distant sounds and cultures — an extraordinary, almost improbable story took shape. It is the story of a group of young African musicians who found their way to Europe, of a Turin nightclub that became a crossroads for communities and experimenters, and of an album which, released in small numbers and largely unnoticed at the time, is now considered a rare jewel of Afro-fusion.
The band called themselves M’Bamina — an ensemble of musicians from Congo, Cameroon, and Benin, who arrived in Italy in the early Seventies. Settling between northern Italy and the Pavia area, they began performing in small clubs and community events, bringing with them a vibrant rhythmic heritage: African polyrhythms, call-and-response vocals, funk-infused bass lines, and Caribbean or Afro-Latin colours absorbed along their musical journeys. Their raw, contagious energy on stage quickly drew attention.
Meanwhile, in Turin, another story was unfolding. There was a venue becoming almost legendary: Voom Voom, one of the city’s liveliest nightclubs, run by Ivo Lunardi. The club attracted an eclectic crowd — students, artists, foreigners, night owls — and Lunardi quickly understood that the dancefloor wasn’t just a place for music, but a melting pot for a new kind of cultural energy. Out of this vibrant atmosphere came his idea: to turn the club’s name into a small independent record label, Voom Voom Music, capable of capturing the spirit of those years and giving voice to unconventional projects.

When Lunardi heard M’Bamina, he immediately sensed that this was the sound he had been searching for: fresh, different from anything circulating in Italy at the time, and capable of blending African tradition with funk and European sensibility. He brought them into the studio.
Production was handled by Lunardi along with Christian Carbaza Michel, while the engineering was entrusted to Danilo Pennone, a young sound technician with a sharp, intuitive ear.
The recording sessions — held in Turin in 1975 — produced a remarkably warm and direct sound. The music feels almost live: grooves rooted in African tradition, but open to funk-rock structures and modern arrangements. It is a natural fusion, never forced. Tracks move between tribal rhythms, funk basslines, light electric guitars, congas and Afro-Latin percussion, with call-and-response vocals and melodies that echo both Congolese tradition and the lineage of Latin jazz. Not by chance, one of the album’s most striking tracks, Watchiwara, reinterprets a Latin standard through M’Bamina’s own rhythmic language.

The album was titled African Roll — a name that was already a statement of intention. It is African music that “rolls,” that moves, adapts, transforms within a new geographic and cultural setting. It is not strictly Afrobeat, nor Congolese rumba, nor Western funk: it is a spontaneous, hybrid blend, shaped more by lived experience than by any calculated aesthetic program.
When African Roll was released, the world around it barely noticed. Distribution was limited, and 1970s Italy had yet to develop a cultural framework for receiving such music. The national music press rarely paid attention to African or “world” productions. The album slipped into silence — though the band’s own story did not.

M’Bamina continued performing across Europe and Africa, even sharing a stage in Cameroon with none other than Manu Dibango. By the late Seventies, they moved to Paris, signed with Fiesta/Decca, and recorded a second LP, Experimental (1978). Meanwhile, the peculiar record they had made in Turin began to resurface quietly among vinyl collectors, Afro-funk enthusiasts, and DJs hunting for forgotten grooves.
That is when the album’s fate began to shift.

Over the decades, African Roll emerged as an almost unique document: a snapshot of an intercultural Italy before the word “intercultural” even existed, a fragment of migrant history, a spontaneous experiment in musical fusion born far from major industry circuits but rich in authenticity. Original copies began commanding high prices on the collector’s market, and the album became recognized as one of the hidden classics of European Afro-fusion from the 1970s.
Today, more than fifty years later, this reissue finally restores visibility and dignity to a project that deserves to be heard, studied, and celebrated. It is not simply an album: it is the testimony of a rare cultural encounter, born in an Italy unaware of how fertile such exchanges would one day become.

It is the story of a visionary producer, an extraordinary band, and a fleeting moment in which music, migration, and nightlife came together to create something genuinely new.
African Roll is — now more than ever — the sound of a bridge: between continents, between eras, between cultures. A record that, after rolling far and wide, has finally come home.

2026 Repress

since his first ep tips' on luciano's label cadenza in 2007 producer and dj petre inspirescu emerged into one of the key figures of the romanian electronic music scene.

so far he released music on labels such as vinyl club, lick my deck or amphia. together with his buddies rhadoo and raresh he also launched in 2007 the label (a:rpia:r) -  a platform where he, his two friends and many producers from romania and abroad released detailed grooving house and techno, that stands out with delicate structures and one-of-a-kind grooves.

both of his more dance floor oriented solo albums intr-o seara organica...' and gradina onirica for (a:rpia:r) are enlarged with melodies, sounds and harmonies that go beyond the usual characteristics of a dance album.

furthermore his love for classic musicians like mily alexejewitsch balakirev, alexander porfiryevich borodin or or nicolai andrejewitsch rimsky-korsakow can be felt in the album padurea de aur (opus 2 in re major) and two more eps that he released under the alias pensemble on the romanian label yojik concon in order to unite classical spheres with analogue electronic music production.

in february 2013 he also released his highly acclaimed fabric mix cd that only features dance floor leaning music produced by himself. with talking waters' he published in late 2014 his first 12inch on mule musiq that is now followed by the full-length album vin ploile' which he produced without the intention to entertain with easy to hook up rhythms, melodies and harmonies.

even tough he established himself as a internationally playing house dj that regularly performs at all major clubs, festivals and other party destinations around the globe: as a musician petre inspirescu always tries to enter new territories to explore with a heartfelt human touch the infinite space of sound.

for his latest album the man that originally comes from the eastern romanian town braila stepped away from his former experiments of melting classical spheres with electronic music. instead the 36-years old man from bucharest only used some piano, string and wind instrument elements and analogue electronics to arrange a gracefully deep ocean of sound.

all slow grooving tracks spread the atmosphere of live improvised sessions that are edited, tweaked and mixed to perfection. in-the-moment moods of strange and unusual analogue synth sounds groove in a fluid quality with subliminal bass shapes, latinate percussions, jazz rhythms and acoustic melodies.

together they create a gaseous kinetic atmosphere full of tangible rhythm patterns, delicate chords and ghostly modular synth pads - all mixed subtle to create space for the tones between the tones.

you can call it a hypnotic after hour album for after hours that are dedicated to a deep listening experience. you can tag his arrangements as brilliantly textured and musically super-charged ambient, which goes beyond the usual definition of the genre.

all nine suspenseful compositions seduce with a deep melodic sensibility, harmonic adventures and an overall rhythmic ambiance of freshness and laidback enthusiasm. together they represent a challenging auditory experience that will resonate in your mind long after the music has finished. 

Daskal debuts on DJ Tennis’s Life and Death label today with the release of “Changes,” the first single from his forthcoming album OD, out March 6. The release marks a defining moment for the producer and composer, whose work moves fluidly between contemporary dance, film, and electronic music, and represents his first full-length statement reconnecting his compositional practice with the dancefloor.

“Changes” arrives alongside a striking accompanying video directed by award-winning filmmaker Tamir Faingold, featuring dancers from the world-renowned Batsheva Dance Company. Rather than functioning as a traditional music video, the piece uses contemporary dance as its primary language, translating the emotional charge and magnetism of nightlife into movement. Together, the single and visual introduction frame OD as a bridge between club culture and the expressive traditions of modern dance and composition.

A classically trained composer with deep ties to the world of choreography, Daskal has spent recent years creating original scores for institutions including Los Angeles Dance Project and the Royal Danish Ballet, while simultaneously developing a parallel body of work across ambient and experimental electronic music. OD emerges as a convergence of those paths: a ten-track album shaped as much by physical movement and spatial awareness as by club tradition, positioning Daskal between concert hall, black box theater, and late-night club environments.

Recorded and mixed primarily using vintage hardware — including a rare 1980s German mixer in a high-end Tel Aviv jazz studio — OD reflects a deliberate shift away from purely atmospheric writing toward rhythm, repetition, and physicality, while retaining the precision and restraint of his compositional background.

One of the UK’s rising talents in recent times, J6 continues his upward trajectory with an enormous four-tracker on underground fan favourites, Locked In Dam. The party starting crew go hand in hand with the refined J6 ethos, as he delivers a dynamite selection of tracks for your record bag. His familiar low end driven sound, combined with tinges of acid and futuristic textures moving between house and modern electro, shapes the ‘Devil Baby’ EP into a cohesive and powerful statement.

The title track is built upon powerful drums and squelchy, spaced-out tones, combined with trippy vocal stabs from Martina, who features on the record. This is prime J6 territory and not to be underestimated. Next up, ‘Biohazard’ introduces mysterious synths that create a transcending atmosphere, shifting the dance floor into the next gear with further twisted acid movements. On the flip side, the Manchester based beatmaker teams up with Ben Gough for ‘Time Capsule’, delivering pacey energy that never lets up, driven by nostalgic tech house drums and icy hi-hats. Rounding off the EP, ‘Emergence’ simmers with an emotive dark energy throughout; if we weren’t dancing with the devil before, we certainly are now.

A certain tip for the tastemakers amongst us, these are four dynamic dance floor cuts to be shared deep within the dark realms of the night.

Mutant Volt emerges from the depths of the underworld with Bona Vista, a six track EP built from unreleased DAT recordings made during the early 90s. Drawn from a vast archive, much of the material had been long forgotten, written at a time when electronic music moved fast and rarely looked back.

Mutant Volt is one of several aliases used by Dan Piu, whose roots sit firmly in early European rave and club culture. The name was originally used to explore a stripped, machine driven sound shaped by early trance structures and bleep influence. Aside from a single release on Superluminal in 2020, much of this material has remained unheard. Recorded on a hardware setup that has changed little since 1991, the tracks were made instinctively and left behind to gather dust.

Today the tracks carry a different kind of weight. What was once made quickly and left behind now feels immediate, proof that some music does not belong to the past, it simply arrives there first.

Skyjoose and Johnnie Clark set out to push the boundaries of UK Garage and 2-Step, crafting a sound that was raw, souldful, and ahead of its time. The project became known as The Stalker – a name that would quietly echo through the underground. Though countless tracks emerged from those sessions, only two saw the light of day on the original Stalker EP released in the year 2000.

Now, 25 years later, The Stalker returns from the depths of the DAT archives – remastered, reawakened, and ready to move dancefloors once again. This special repress features the two original vocal mixes from the Stalker EP, plus four additional club weapons forged in those same legendary sessions – three of which have never been released…until now.