Cerca:fragment

Emotional Response presents Volume 2 of the LNS-ID series. Atmospheric, infectious, at times nostalgic, warm yet ghosty, the tension of Laura Sparrow’s music is her exploration in electronic music.

An introduction to DJing and music production has been a natural progression, applying skills in new and fresh formats. Built on the heritage of Chicago and Detroit house, alongside old IDM and electro, her first productions might have been raw, but the creativity was lit.

While her recent productions have explored club orientated, loud cut records, in collaborations with DJ Sotofett, that represent the sound found in her residency on the Globus floor at the Tresor club, LNS’s interest in the solo productions of the LNS-ID recordings and more organic-style explored in the recent Misiats EP burns bright.

LNS-ID 1 and LNS ID 2 are her latest offering. Two sets of four tracks based on the acid tradition in the more restless corners of 90s and early 00s Braindance. Acid lines drive the melodies, while drums move between sliced break fragments and the familiar sounds of the Roland TR-606 and TR-808.

Pads drift in with a warm glow or at times, quiet ghostly tension. The results are music that leans towards atmosphere and memory, something almost nostalgic that was built for those of us who still chase the more expressive edges of acid.

Easygoing Acid Express, Alive Acid, Blue Acid and Gentle Acid. Get the message. We call it Acid.

DJ Himitsu is a Tokyo-born, London-based producer and DJ, known for his understated approach and deep knowledge of Japanese vinyl and book culture. Following a debut EP of acid house on Australian imprint Lunatic Music in 2023, 'Exotic Animals' marks a new waypoint in Himitsu's artistic evolution.

On this debut full length, driving 303 basslines and kickdrums are traded in for obscure recordings and convoluted samples, which spiral and fuse to form shuffling, heady new compositions. Like shattered pottery reassembled into top-heavy sculptures with golden glue, 'Exotic Animals' shapes and juxtaposes opposing forms and fragments, with lolloping aplomb.

When not producing, DJ Himistu runs Caravan - a vintage Japanese record, ceramics and bookshop in London. It's with the same warmth, care and curiosity that he arranges his findings in the plunderous grotto of 'Exotic Animals'. In this way, stepping inside this work is like entering a remote trading post of instruments, memoirs and other sonic curios - as Himitsu stands patiently at the counter.

Recommended for fans of Jon Hassell, Giovanni Venosta, Discrepant.

AO (Trascendental Amor Organization) appears with a five-track EP for Modern Obscure Music's Trip-Vapor-Club Focus Series, released as a vinyl-only edition. The record aligns with the series' ongoing interest in club music as an experimental framework, following releases by Pedro Vian and Actress.
Drawing from techno and electro without committing to their functional codes, the EP explores rhythm as texture and acidic repetition as inquiry. Pulses are skeletal, surfaces are unstable, and melodic fragments emerge only to dissolve back into noise and space. The tracks suggest movement without instruction, privileging sensation over utility.
Minimal in format yet dense in implication, the EP positions the dancefloor as a speculative zone-sound designed as much for close listening as for physical immersion.

black.round.twelve returns with Dancing Tiger EP, a new vinyl release from Tagir exploring the deeper edges of Minimal House and Tech House. Rooted in the label’s vinyl-only ethos and focused curation, the record leans into long-form grooves, subtle detail and controlled movement.

The title track “Dancing Tiger” is a slow-burning minimal piece stretching across twelve minutes. Oboe-like tones and modular textures sit alongside processed vocal fragments and acoustic percussion, anchored by a steady low-end that develops with patience.
“Break It Love” moves into a more direct framework, combining vocal loops with an elastic bassline and a steady 4/4 pulse, while modular elements add texture and forward motion.
On “Off Smoke”, the structure becomes more abstract, with a repeated vocal phrase stretched, pitched and fragmented across a pumping groove. Subtle variations and underlying swing create a controlled but fluid sense of movement.

With Dancing Tiger EP, Tagir delivers a groove-led record that aligns closely with black.round.twelve’s approach, balancing functionality with detail and maintaining a clear focus on the dancefloor.

Details marks SCHiLLiNG's return after years of research, above all on himself. It brings together the practices that have become essential to him: composition, sampling, sonic patchworks, and a palette that mirrors the full spectrum of his musical identity, from Rock'n'Roll to Trip-Hop and Ambient. Details is rich in small edits, hidden layers, fragile textures, and fragments that reveal themselves slowly. Yet the word carries a deeper meaning: what truly matters is often the smallest element, what doesn't appear clearly at first glance or on first listen, yet quietly holds the core of everything. The detail as the very pulse of one's inner world. Across 14 tracks, the album unfolds as a diverse journey, carefully shaped yet open enough to allow unexpected elements and subtle imperfections to remain part of its flow. The structure is not binding, you can begin from any track and embark on your own path through it. Each piece contributes to a wider arc without overpowering the others. The album includes collaborations with several artists who lent their talent to the project; their names appear in the credits of the physical release. In many ways, they embody the very idea behind the title: individual presences, each bringing their own nuance, forming a whole together. After all, fragments, in their union, shape the larger totality. Details doesn't ask to be consumed in a specific way, fast or slow, close or distant. It simply is what it is

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

Al Wahem (“The Illusion”) is the new full-length release by PRAED, the Swiss–Lebanese duo of Raed Yassin and Paed Conca. Recorded between Beirut and Berlin, the album returns to the group’s central aesthetic: a rhythm-driven weave of Egyptian shaabi, electronics, improvisation and the gritty pulse of street-level sound. Nearly twenty years into the project, PRAED have distilled their approach into four pieces that subtly shift the listener’s bearings, reordering grooves and fragments until familiar elements take on new identities.
The twenty-minute title track sets the tone. A tightly interlocking two-drum foundation from Pascal Semerdjian and Ayman Zebdawi shapes a structure that expands steadily: synth figures branch outward, clarinet and bass lines act as internal guideposts, and brief vocal calls from Yassin and guest singer Mayssa Jallad sit inside the texture rather than leading it. PRAED’s shaabi keyboard language is present, but the duo stretch it outward, building tension and movement through patient accumulation.

“Al Hathayan,” at 4:46, tightens the focus. Conca’s clarinet moves between melodic arcs and clipped rhythmic gestures, threading through electronic loops that surface and disappear. Zebdawi’s percussion adds a raw, tactile quality, placing acoustic patterns and electronics in direct conversation. The piece acts as a bridge between the album’s two long-form compositions.
Side B begins with “Al Maraya,” a thirteen-minute piece that relies on electronic, bass and clarinet interplay. The atmosphere nods to the breadth of PRAED Orchestra!, but remains anchored in the duo’s rhythmic foundations. Rather than building mass, the layering creates a sense of depth, as if new spaces were opening inside the groove.
The album closes with “Assarab,” featuring keyboardist Amr Said. Semerdjian and Zebdawi again form a dual percussive axis, while synths hover between melody and pulse, and themes recur in widening circles rather than building vertically. The porous boundary between electronic and acoustic sources — processed clarinet mistaken for a sequencer, rhythmic figures springing from live drums — is where the album’s theme of “illusion” shows itself most clearly.

Al Wahem follows a long arc: early releases on Annihaya, a key appearance on Ruptured Sessions Vol. 5 – Live at Radio Lebanon (2013), later albums on Akuphone, and the large-scale PRAED Orchestra! documented on Morphine Records. This new Ruptured/Annihaya co-release brings the duo back to a concentrated format, reorganizing their familiar materials with renewed clarity and intent.

Peach’s Soak Vol. 1 is a cross-Canadian link-up with Mood Hut that moves through slower, deeper waters.

The mini-LP was written after a tour through Asia that opened up something new in how Peach approaches making music. The turning point, as she tells it, came during a visit to a neighbourhood sento in Tokyo, while surrounded by steam rising in suspended time, something clicked about the relationship between the body and the sounds she wanted to make.

She’d been learning about cycle synching and working out with the phases of her hormonal cycle, respecting energy fluctuations throughout the course of a month, and decided to apply the approach to writing music. She allowed shifts in energy to guide tempo, density, and emotional tone rather than strictly answering to the floor.

Soak came out of this exploration, sketched and layered with field recordings from her trips to Vietnam and the Philippines during a challenging time in her life. Fragments of heat, air, and shoreline are absorbed into the music itself. Vapourous pads, low-end weight, fractured percussion, and melodies hover at the edge of dissolution. Water runs structurally through the record in surges, in tidal pacing, in the slow accumulation of texture.

Wherever this music finds you, please enjoy the Soak.

Art Blakey was the new hero on the Paris jazz scene, thanks to his Olympia concert on November 22nd 1958, and his subsequent appearances at the Club St. Germain. People swore by his 'Blues March' and 'Moanin', so why not get him to do the soundtrack for the film Molinaro just finished? The only problem, albeit a major one, was that time was short, so an original score was out of the question: the Jazz Messengers would have to preach the good word by other means. Fortunately, the band's tenor and arranger, Benny Golson, had become an expeet in the art of making somrthing new out of somrthing old, and he did it with equal talent and intelligence.Except for three originals, the musical sequences of the film are actually fragments from the Messengers' book, but in adapted versions; 'Whisper Not', for example, can be discerned underneath 'Ne Chuchote Pas'. It was an extremely hazardous process...but the result turned out to be remarkable!!!

“One of Berghain’s longest-serving residents, Luke Slater has been defining bleepy, polyrhythmic, industrial-strength techno as Planetary Assault Systems since the mid-nineties. P.A.S albums tend to come together in their own time:

“External signals and signs combine until the recipe feels right, both musically and from being ‘out there’,” Slater adds. “10 years since I released Arc Angel on Ostgut Ton, and it’s a fitting pleasure to combine live show ideas and studio work for the new album, served up with raw energy” That patience runs through his whole Ostgut catalogue; since Temporary Suspension brought its machine-tooled weight and alien feeling to the label in 2009, each P.A.S. release on Ostgut Ton has been its own quest for discovery, from The Messenger’s search for sounds not yet present in club music to Arc Angel’s focus on melody to the deep hypnosis of Plantae.

His new album, Planetary People has the deliberate imagination and depth of a record that took its time, shaped as much by live rooms and crowds as by the studio.

“Into The Night” creates a haunting, dystopic environment of corroded acid saturated in echo, absorbing from the first second. “Labyrinth” breaks into buoyant tribal percussion, modulated chirps trading off over propulsive drums. “Quadrant 10” is clean, delay-drenched techno, buzzing with noise splatters over saturated thuds. “Sermon Of The Light Tides” scrambles metallic bell sequences that distort and evolve throughout, reminiscent of a dial-up modem crossed with a game of Frogger, squelching between percussive bursts and stripped-back kicks. “Brave Cosmo” is tormentingly menacing, eerie synths panning around buried vocal fragments over frantic percussion. “Retina Burn” rolls on fierce, cement-mixer 909 cycles, rave stabs over a ride that locks you in, the whole track stuttering and repeating before stripping back to a bare echoing kick and building itself again. “Thunder Major” barrels on open hats and reverb-drenched claps ricocheting through twisting wreaths of delay, mesmeric and relentless. “Beton Brut” marches juggernaut percussion stamping through hall reverb so vast you can visualise the room, the darkest and most unrelenting track on the record. “No Ninja” crunches in metallic and immediate, a wiry plucked lead threading through glitch with the bass held low and deep, mixed so precisely you can see every layer stacked in your mind’s eye. “Ha Jam” is danceable techno with plenty of funk and a sophisticated looseness, a vocal laugh bouncing off clanging metal blocks and rave stabs. “Lynx” lowpasses its rave stabs and crystalline beeps, chirpy hats ticking, cold metal repeats, old school and mesmeric. “Generation Slip” closes everything out, ominous and churning, skittering percussion and electrical sparks rattling through steel, a freight train barrelling on into oblivion.

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."

With Zera, Len Faki returns to Figure with a tightly focused EP that moves between raw, driving functionality and more open, atmospheric moments. Across five tracks, he explores variations in groove, tone and energy, balancing direct, floor-ready structures with a more fluid and spacious approach.

Opening cut Maschine Girl locks into a restless, forward-driving groove. Crisp percussion and a tightly coiled low end create immediate momentum, while sharp synth fragments and metallic accents add a nervous edge. The track stays stripped and efficient, letting its steady build and controlled tension carry the energy.
Kobold follows with a darker and more twisted tone. Warped synth figures weave through a heavy rhythmic backbone, giving the track a slightly mischievous character while maintaining a firm, heads-down drive. The interplay between tonal movement and grounded percussion keeps the groove dynamic without breaking its focus.
Closing the A-side, Maschine Girl (Version) revisits the opener from a different angle. Elements are tightened and subtly rebalanced, shifting the emphasis further toward rhythm and direct impact. More reduced and tool-like in nature, it pushes the groove forward with a sharper, club-ready feel.
On the flip, Zera unfolds with a broader sense of space. Hypnotic synth movement and layered atmospheres sit atop a firm low-end framework, gradually building intensity while maintaining a deep, immersive flow. The track thrives on its slow development, drawing the listener further into its evolving structure.
Rounding out the release, Zera (Hardspace Mix) reimagines the original with a heavier, more physical approach. The groove becomes more pronounced and the rhythmic pressure more direct, tightening the structure into a denser, floor-driven tool that emphasises impact and propulsion.
With Zera, Len Faki delivers a cohesive and wide-ranging release that connects raw, driving tools with more expansive, early morning-leaning grooves — further reflecting the breadth and versatility that has defined his output in recent years.

For his new full-length on Second End Records, Lyon-based artist Jonnnah turns deeply inward. Conceived as a form of therapy, as much as a reflection and a testimony, the record retraces a process of introspection and confrontation with one’s own history, looking back at origins, DNA, and the invisible ties that connect us to our ancestors, while opening paths toward new connections.

The double-sided structure of the album makes this journey tangible. The first side lingers in uncertainty : opaque atmospheres, fragmented rhythms, and restless textures mirror the doubts, questions, and fragile states of self-analysis. The second side, in contrast, embraces clarity and resolution, dense yet luminous soundscapes where reconciliation and acceptance take shape, culminating in The Blue Comet, a piece charged with finality and revelation.

Opening with the multipart suite N-zero, symbolizing the beginning of therapy, and closing with O-one, evoking the soul’s original purity, the record traces a complete emotional and spiritual cycle. Between them, the third edition of Insomnia Never Ends once again portrays the struggle between sleep and the irresistible pull of musical distraction, a fragile tension that runs through the album as a whole.

The record condenses Jonnnah’s language into something rawer and more direct. Layers of dub and dub sonic resonate against ethereal ambient passages, while techno impulses maintain tension and forward motion. Each piece feels at once intimate and expansive, designed as much for solitary listening as for collective experience.

A new chapter in Jonnnah’s trajectory, the album is a document of transformation : from shadow to light, from questioning to acceptance.

Increasingly essential US artist Ben Hixon drops sublime deep house EP on Kai Alce's faultless NDATL Muzik. The six classy tracks will appeal to those who appreciate the subtleties of the classic Midwestern sound.

Ben is a Texas-born, but Brooklyn-based artist who has become a firm favourite of true deep house heads in the last year or so. He has put out several EPs on Dolfin, all of which find a perfect sweet spot between immersive atmospheres and late-night drive. Dusty analogue textures and frayed edges define his drums, while the subtle details are intelligent and add effortless emotion. He is a perfect fit for NDATL Muzik, the Atlanta label that has long been a flagbearer for well-crafted house grooves like these.

'Taping' kicks off with heavy kicks that swing under gentle chords that are perfect for after dark. There's a persuasive bump in the beats that will get early evening dancers primed and ready for more. Next up we have 'Y Do U Get So Nervous' - a mastery of sampling with nagging vocal hooks, cascading piano keys and wet finger clicks all adding soul to another low-key but all-consuming groove. 'Area Code 336 Phone Rings' is a higgledy-piggledy tapestry of toms and stuttering kicks with vocal fragments to match - the thrill is the looseness of it all. The smouldering and meandering 'December Blackout' is for gazing off it into the distance at the busy yet muted jazz keys that twinkle like faraway stars. 'It's Like A Vision' picks up the pace with more closely stacked kicks but still oodles of cuddly warmth and smudged synth work, before '0823' ends with a decidedly heavy feel - spare, lump drums unfurl beneath forlorn synths that feel utterly bruised and heartbroken.

Ben Hixon's deft artistry makes these quiet, texture tunes irresistibly danceable yet emotionally profound.

Farron is back on Shaw Cuts with his next EP called ãHuman LanternsÒ - a tale of social jealousy and long-standing rivalry transformed into 4 bass-heavy broken techno tracks.
The two wealthy kung-fu masters Lung and Tan are embroiled in a long lasting game of perpetual one-upmanship. Vowing to show Tan up, Lung enlists the aid of a man he defeated in a duel years ago in fashioning a masterful lantern for the upcoming festival in which both masters will compete. ãWe Are The WaveÒ and its noisy fragments and broken rhythmics led by a hefty stormy bassline, underline the tension and aversion between the two competing masters.
But the eccentric artisan is more interested in seeking revenge for his old defeat, in taking away everything Lung holds dear. The bass-driven ãSwitch OddÒ and its sharp percussions and phat kick underline the ulterior motives of the shady character.
The evil villainÕs plan of revenge contains kidnapping several beloved women of Lung, skinning them alive and using their flaps of skin to create the ordered lantern. ãGX100Ò and its fast-paced drum pattern carried by virulent synth fragments and raucous pads, epitomises the merciless act of violence.
Tan and Lung falsely accuse each other but feel constrained to eventually team up and hunt the criminal together. ãTalking To ThemÒ rings in furiously and chases the enemy with its rolling bass, chopped vocals and stomping drums, but the villain is sneaky and recalcitrant. Silence before the attackÉ

Between flesh and silicon. “Under My Skin” (2026) is the first album by IADI, released by Neo Life. A record like few
others, highly conceptual, cover art included. Its essence lies in the folds of the increasingly ambiguous relationship
between man and machine, where the former designs the latter and, perhaps without fully realizing it, is gradually
destined to adapt and be reprogrammed by it. Each track of “Under My Skin” is, in fact, a sort of interface, connector, or
any other imaginative point of contact between two creative phases, amid emotional impulses and binary calculations.
The sonic architecture oscillates between analog warmth and algorithmic coldness, constructing landscapes in which
pulsating synthesizers and mechanical rhythms seem to question each other. There's no linear narrative, but rather a
progressive immersion in a zone of near-friction, where the comfort of technology coexists with more than a faint
musical uneasiness, like a background noise that never ceases to remind you who's truly in charge. In “Under My Skin”,
the machine is neither an enemy nor a simple instrument: it's a real presence, intimate, even tactile, amplifying desires,
fears, and dreams of dawns beyond the digital realm. Intelligent dance music. Less noise, more sensations. Electronic,
but profoundly human.
The final result, then, is a music project that speaks to the present, yet sounds like an X-ray of the future, capturing that
fragile moment when humanity and technology stop observing each other from afar and begin to merge, track after
track. It's no coincidence that IADI's album opens with “Impulse”, an immediate expression of an electrical impulse, for
both humans and machines, which is also the language of the nervous system, as fast as it is vital—pure energy and
rhythm, a track as intense as it is irregular. And after this introduction, it's the turn of the equally erratic “Axon”, whose
title describes the neuron that transmits the signal over distance, telling the listener to sit back and relax for a new
journey through the notes toward the more melodic “Cortex”. The cerebral cortex, the ultimate seat of thought and
memory, becomes the source from which the musical flow of the first part of the work is drawn.
Then, suddenly, an automatic, or instinctive, response to the constant succession of impulses: “Reflex”, or zerotemperature techno, with a fragmented pace, featuring vocal samples, breaks, and restarts. In the producer's
imagination, the subsequent, and conversely placid, “Neuron” represents the emotional core of the second part of the
work, providing a kind of respite from the seething vibrations. While the neuron is the basic unit of the nervous system,
the synapse is the functional connection point between one neuron and another effector cell, essential for the
transmission of nerve impulses and communication in the nervous system, enabling functions such as learning and
movement. Likewise, a track like “Synapse” once again illuminates the path traced by IADI. The more experimental and
streamlined “Static” instead suggests true ordered chaos. “Dreamstate” is the conclusion suspended in the void, relating
to that dreamlike state between waking and sleeping, where consciousness fades toward infinity and visions begin. Pure
fading into the subconscious. Eternal return to where it all began. Dancing is a form of consciousness. Every beat is a
question. IADI, however, holds all the answers you need.

“Spirit Chaser” by DJ Life. Berlin-based, aus producer slips back onto the label through Jupiter’s Depth, landing his first full solo EP with us — almost 7 years on from his first appearance on Neptune Discs.
After a run of VA appearances here, alongside standout releases on X-Kalay and Craigie Knowes — this lands as the third on the sub. Weighty baselines, fleeting vocal fragments, lush chords from elsewhere. All slightly off-centre, in a good way.
4 pattern-led trax, percussion up front — an undulating gem.

co:clear is blessed to share the latest offering of Leipzig-based artist, tibslc. Like many, we were introduced to her work through those two stunner long-players on Sferic at the turn of the decade. Five years have passed since then and her work continues to mesmerise – a string of accomplished self-releases have nestled themselves amongst contributions to STROOM.tv and SoundSupply_Service, to name but a few.

In the here and now, we are pleased to showcase ‘City of Something’ – 8 fragments of deluxe hi-fi ambient that further dissolves us in digital haze. Traversing through meticulous fragments of sound, tiblsc entices the listener to her synthetic dreamworld with an album of deep, euphonic electronics. Serene moments of singer-songwriting are sprinkled throughout and remind us of the artist’s delicate ability to captivate with her ethereal voice.

Artwork comes courtesy of Berlin-based artist, Margarita Maximova. Strictly limited to 250 copies of 12” wax and via most digital outlets. Out 29th May 2026.

Out on limited edition 12” vinyl & digital, 29th May 2026. Limited to 250 copies.

The Bait label is back with more stylish deep dubstep swagger, this time from various artists who know how to crank up the low end pressure. Eva Loveless opens up with 'Juniper red' which harks back to classic Techtonic sounds where techno and bass come together for front foot forward momentum. Slimy Ape's 'Guro' is a hefty stepper with dubby undertones and plenty of open space for the tape hiss to hiss and the conscious vocals to drift in. Furtive's 'Stormlight' is ice cold and minimal, with skeletal rhythms punctuated with clacking hits and doused in bass. Last of all, Buckley's 'Introspective' is a twitchy broken beat with classic dub techno chords and yelped vocals injecting some fragmented soul.

Key long-term collaborators and Coil's "secret third member" Danny Hyde located the original Hellraiser studio session tapes, and the bonus material recovered from them is presented here as an "expanded ritual" edition.





For fans of pain & pleasure, Throbbing Gristle, lost horror soundtracks & haunted electronics.



Back in 1987, Clive Barker's supernatural body-horror classic Hellraiser hit cinemas worldwide and introduced audiences to the demonic Cenobites. Barker was a devoted COIL fan (Peter Christopherson and John Balance), and he famously said they were the only band he'd ever heard on record whose music he'd had to take off because, in his words, "theymade his bowels churn.". He initially invited them to compose the film's music, and the group began recording cues. But the producers at New World Pictures ultimately rejected the material in favor of a more traditional approach, bringing in Christopher Young, whose final score remains excellent, if less experimental. What remains from Coil is an unfinished soundtrack with surviving fragments and rough ideas, abruptly left behind mid-process, a glimpse into an alternate Hellraiser movie, one we can only fantasize into existence.



Nearly 40 years later, key long-term collaborators and Coil's "secret third member" Danny Hyde located the original Hellraiser studio session tapes, and the bonus material recovered from them is presented here as an "expanded ritual" edition, reassembled into a standalone, possibly definitive and strangely beautiful nightmare suite. Play it in the dark and experience the consequences of raising hell...

MUSIQUE POUR LA DANSE presents The Unreleased Themes From Hellraiser expanded ritual by Coil

Back in 1987, Clive Barker's supernatural body-horror classic Hellraiser hitted cinemas worldwide and introduced audiences to the demonic Cenobites. Barker was a devoted COIL fan (Peter Christopherson and John Balance), and he famously said they were the only band he'd ever heard on record whose music he'd had to take off because, in his words, "theymade his bowels churn.". He initially invited them to compose the film's music, and the group began recording cues. But the producers at New World Pictures ultimately rejected the material in favor of a more traditional approach, bringing in Christopher Young, whose final score remains excellent, if less experimental. What remains from Coil is an unfinished soundtrack with surviving fragments and rough ideas, abruptly left behind mid-process, a glimpse into an alternate Hellraiser movie, one we can only fantasize into existence.

Nearly 40 years later, key long-term collaborators and Coil's "secret third member" Danny Hyde located the original Hellraiser studio session tapes, and the bonus material recovered from them is presented here as an "expanded ritual" edition, reassembled into a standalone, possibly defnitive and strangely beautiful nightmare suite. Play it in the dark and experience the consequences of raising hell...

Notes by Danny Hyde
Original artwork by Trevor Brown
For fans of pain & pleasure, Throbbing Gristle, lost horror soundtracks & haunted electronics.

MUSIQUE POUR LA DANSE presents The Unreleased Themes From Hellraiser expanded ritual by Coil

Back in 1987, Clive Barker's supernatural body-horror classic Hellraiser hitted cinemas worldwide and introduced audiences to the demonic Cenobites. Barker was a devoted COIL fan (Peter Christopherson and John Balance), and he famously said they were the only band he'd ever heard on record whose music he'd had to take off because, in his words, "theymade his bowels churn.". He initially invited them to compose the film's music, and the group began recording cues. But the producers at New World Pictures ultimately rejected the material in favor of a more traditional approach, bringing in Christopher Young, whose final score remains excellent, if less experimental. What remains from Coil is an unfinished soundtrack with surviving fragments and rough ideas, abruptly left behind mid-process, a glimpse into an alternate Hellraiser movie, one we can only fantasize into existence.

Nearly 40 years later, key long-term collaborators and Coil's "secret third member" Danny Hyde located the original Hellraiser studio session tapes, and the bonus material recovered from them is presented here as an "expanded ritual" edition, reassembled into a standalone, possibly defnitive and strangely beautiful nightmare suite. Play it in the dark and experience the consequences of raising hell...

Notes by Danny Hyde
Original artwork by Trevor Brown
For fans of pain & pleasure, Throbbing Gristle, lost horror soundtracks & haunted electronics.

Blue Hour is the most recent release from Friday Night Plans, recently signed by Modern Obscure Music. The project marks FNP's shift from their 'pop' roots towards a more experimental and ambient sound. Friday Night Plans is pioneered by singer/songwriter Masumi who has collaborated on this project with acclaimed Japanese producer Ena. Together, they have created a collection of songs that represents the quiet introspection and emotions of the AM hours, using improvisation during the production process to create a cyclical record that is described as 'dreamlike'. Masumi attributes the project to a journey consisting of fragments of memory through each song; a reflection of how nostalgia and recollection connects us to emotions.

A closing chapter for Iro Aka: ambient introspection and precise IDM meet in a deeply personal, memory-driven LP.
Barcelona-based duo Iro Aka present "Memories Exploration" (GLOSSY025), a record that marks the closing of a creative chapter. Set for release on May 29th via Glossy Mistakes, the LP unfolds as a personal archive-tracing ideas, influences, and emotional states shaped over time.
The A-side moves through ambient-leaning territories, building meditative landscapes where time seems to dissolve and blur. Through tracks like "Frozen Sun" and "Golden Sea", the duo showcase a refined approach to sound design, shaped by carefully distilled emotion. Meanwhile, "Gendo" and "Intervertert" lean further inward-sketching moments of deep introspection through soft textures and a minimalist sensitivity that invites contemplation.
On the B-side, the record shifts. Rhythmic structures come into focus, drawing from IDM and broken beat patterns with a precise, understated touch. "L", "Ozadene" and "Phased9" introduce movement while maintaining the album's introspective core. Closing track "We Felt in Love with a Loop" brings the album to a gentle, open-ended close.
The artwork by Jack Anderson reflects this sense of fragmented memory and process, complementing the album's emotional tone.
Rather than a definitive ending, "Memories Exploration" feels like a transition-an understated way of closing one chapter before the next begins.
"An autumn evening - without a single tear, things come to an end."

With the Hormesis EP, Alric Aerial explores the delicate threshold between pressure and growth. The title a reference to the biological phenomenon where stress triggers a positive adaptation serves as the conceptual foundation for a sound born from deep introspection.

It is a testament to the idea that resilience is not just about enduring, but about evolving through the friction.

In his productions, Alric Aerial weaves together personal and cultural fragments, bridging the echoes of his heritage (Tales From The Desert Part II) with a conscious departure from familiar scenes and habits (Good To Be Gone). This work marks a natural evolution a shift from the noise of the outside world toward a more refined, intentional focus in the studio.

The tracks strike a balance between "dirty" authenticity and infectious, groovy basslines. From driving, straight-forward rhythms to melodic leads, the work shifts between cinematic tension and uncompromising momentum. Especially in the title track, Hormesis, Alric’s vision culminates in the transformation of fragmentation into energy. The music invites the listener to find a new kind of presence within the act of disappearing to get lost in the pulse, only to emerge more resilient.

Josh Mason’s new collection, "Wave Salt +7," emerges from an oblique origin. Unearthed from a dormant hard drive, it documents a set of work sessions only partially recoverable, their original continuity and intent fractured by time and technical failure. What remains is a constellation of mercurial gestures that proves, against all odds, to be entirely consonant with Mason’s ongoing musical concerns.

In a sense, the very condition of partiality proves generative, with elision operating on multiple levels - structural, sonic, and archival - shaping both the music itself and the circumstances of its (re)appearance. Phrases surface only to be truncated or displaced, hovering at the edge of resolution, and transitions are implied rather than fully enacted. Absence functions not as a deficit, but as an important compositional resource.

Central to the album’s sound is a distinctive use of vocoding. Deployed not to simulate vocal presence but as a tool for tonal sculpting, it yields a shifting lattice of smeared harmonics, angular melody, and attenuated noise. Sounds are pressed through one another, their edges softened, shifted, or selectively erased, producing surfaces simultaneously articulated and porous. Rather than reconstructing a lost whole, the album posits a mode of listening attuned to gaps, interruptions, and unstable forms. Even so, in keeping with Mason’s broader practice, this music remains grounded in melodic logic and a distinctly human scale, ensuring that its fragmentary structures register not solely as experiments, but as expressions of proximity and feeling.

We're always excited to welcome new faces to the imprint. Although not totally new to the label, having featured on the Fragment / 1 VA back in late 2024, Quartz returns here for his first full EP release.

'Cold Voids' is ominous, yet uplifting in its own right. Nostalgic but forward thinking. Techy, deep, rolling goodness!

Still compelled by the space they first opened, Gūsū returns with a second release, “Inhabiting Me”. What began as a shared approach, sprouted from intuition, has grown denser and more defined, holding on to that same fragility and openness. The duo continues to befriend with contrast, friction and proximity, shaping a language that inhabits their uncommon ground.

Vintage drum machines, tape delays and bass guitar widen the sonic ground, adding pulse, grain and instability, while the guzheng holds its place in full clarity. Each sound source becomes each other’s ornament, forming to gesture the next currents.

What emerges is less a fixed composition than a shifting form: precise in detail, impossible to contain. Listeners who have experienced Gūsū’s live performances will recognise this rare quality: a music of great sensitivity that expands with quiet force, drawing them inward rather than confronting them directly. The sound fades, re-enters, and leaves behind the trace of a lighthearted heaviness, echoing back in fragments, reappearing in memory with altered weight and colour.

Time bends inward and tones return altered. Between repetition and resonance, a tensile form begins to emerge. Neither nostalgic nor futuristic, neither static nor loose. Gūsū does not merge its materials into one smooth surface; it lets them stand close enough to sharpen one another.

Gūsū is a transcultural music project born from the confluence of two distinct artistic voices: Xueyan Chen and Nicolas Balmer. Together, they create a complex dialogue of sound that bridges the ancient and the modern, exploring the liminal spaces between tradition and experimentation. Gūsū’s inception was serendipitous, sparked by a shared stage in late 2022. What began as spontaneous improvisations has since evolved into a profound collaboration. The duo has performed under various monikers, finding their ultimate identity in the name Gūsū, a nod to both heritage and transformation.

Destination Unknown is an EP by Unpronounceable born from an archive of sounds collected between 2019 and 2024—sonic fragments that took shape without a predetermined direction guided only by an open idea in constant transformation. The original track conceived as a “destination unknown” composition developed its own independent identity. However precisely because of its fluid and cross-genre nature Unpronounceable chose not to place it within a traditional EP context instead opening it up to a multiplicity of perspectives by inviting five artists to reinterpret it freely without genre constraints.

The result is an EP that unfolds like an alternative map of the same sonic territory where each remix explores a distinct direction transforming Destination Unknown into a multifaceted and ever-evolving experience.

In Carl Finlow’s remix Destination Unknown takes on a strong cinematic and narrative dimension. Inspired by the title Finlow imagines a mysterious journey toward a futuristic dystopian city turning the track into a kind of electro soundtrack—dark yet ironic rich in character and capable of evoking vivid images and motion.

MANASYt pushes the track toward more physical and ritualistic territories focusing on the dark pads and the more oneiric vocal elements of the original. The result is a hypnotic pulsating tribal-industrial reinterpretation where rhythm and sonic material become central intensifying the track’s most visceral qualities.

With Gay Horror the focus shifts to an emotional and narrative dimension. The vocals are deliberately made elusive and undefined while the structure develops through a slow controlled crescendo that recalls the atmospheres of ’90s trip-hop. This version also reflects a long-standing human and artistic relationship conceived as a story that travels through time and reaches the present day.

Kevin Follet adopts a more conceptual approach overturning the perspective of the original track. Rather than working with its main elements he brings the underlying structures to the foreground transforming what usually remains hidden into the core of his reinterpretation. His remix is elegant and deep balancing sound exploration with a strong attention to songwriting.

Closing the EP is GP The Synth Roller with a radical and highly experimental reinterpretation. The track behaves like an unstable system: parameters shift without warning surfaces lose coherence sudden accelerations collide with moments of arrest. There is no resolution only a sonic condition in constant tension eventually condensing into a dark compact mass.

Taken as a whole Destination Unknown is far more than a simple remix collection: it is a collective exploration of the potential of a single composition. Unpronounceable’s original track and the reinterpretations by Carl Finlow MANASYt Gay Horror Kevin Follet and GP The Synth Roller move across electro techno industrial and experimental territories offering six different perspectives from the same starting point. An open journey with no fixed destination where every detour becomes an integral part of the path.

Hit the North is a DJs’ movement
Not a label. Not a revival. A discipline.

Over the years, the collective travelled across multiple states in the US and parts of the UK, digging deep into private collections, basements, garages, storage rooms and forgotten boxes.

They weren’t looking for classics.
They weren’t looking for hits.
They were looking for attempts.

Artists chasing something bigger than themselves.
Trying to sound like Motown.
Trying to sound like Detroit.
Trying to sound like the records that saved them.

Many of them dreamed — at best — of becoming a one hit wonder.
Most never got that far.

Some never crossed a state line.
Some never crossed the street at the end of their block.
Some never played outside their hometown.
Some never played at all.

What they left behind were fragments.

Raw versions.
Unfinished recordings.
Alternate takes.
Rejected mixes.
Test pressings.
Acetates passed quietly from hand to hand.

Sometimes with real credits.
Sometimes with fake ones.
Sometimes with handwritten labels leading nowhere.
Titles that didn’t match the music.
Stories that changed every time you asked.

Often, the trail simply disappeared.

What remained was intention.

Energy.
Urgency.
Hope pressed into sound.

So the collective worked on it.

They edited certain parts.
Extended others.
Cut what didn’t serve the floor.

Not to modernise.
Not to rewrite history.
But to unlock the power that was already there.

The result sounds like Northern Soul pushed to its breaking point.
Fast. Physical. Emotional.
Built for movement.

Some circulated privately.
Others were never pressed at all.

Recorded in personal studios, borrowed studios, friends’ rooms, temporary spaces.
Always outside the system.

This is not nostalgia.
This is unfinished business.

Andreu G. Serra and Kiran Leonard first met in Lisbon nine years ago, arriving in the city within weeks of each other by chance. Living together in a crumbling warehouse in Alto São João, they recorded a series of improvisations that became The Piri Piri Samplers (Memorials of Distinction, 2019): Serra’s abrasive, tape-warped guitar lines colliding with Leonard’s stark, pedal-free counterpoint. They played a single gallery show, left Lisbon that summer, and then spent almost a decade living in different countries.

When Stroom reissued The Piri Piri Samplers in 2024, the label suggested the duo make a new record. At first, it seemed impossible: Leonard was in London, Ubaldo in southern Catalonia, and their attempts at long-distance recording quickly collapsed into nothing. But the near-failure sparked something. Leonard travelled to Catalonia to restart the process in person; soon after, Serra moved to South London, and the pair began meeting every week.

The result is Making Friends: a richer, more expansive album built over six months. Where The Piri Piri Samplers was assembled from raw improvisations, Making Friends transforms fragments into fully realised songs, weaving together nylon and steel-string guitars, piano, drums, bells, samplers and more. For the first time, Serra and Leonard sing together, each in his own language - Catalan and English - sometimes translating one another in real time.

Musically, Making Friends still carries the jagged dissonance and free-blues spirit of the duo’s earlier work, while opening outward toward everything from emo and blown-out noise to fractured chamber pop. There are only three guests on the album, and they are worth mentioning: Rachel Leonard and Antonia Serra (the musicians' mothers) on the seventh tune, and the American poet Pete Simonelli (of Enablers) appears on Top of Duboce / Tyne Bridge Crossing, one of the album’s two sprawling centerpieces.

At its heart, Making Friends is an album about friendship: about distance, reunion, family, and the stubborn need to make music together. It begins with uncertainty and disconnection, but ends somewhere stronger - with, as put on the closing track, “molta il.lusió per lo que pugue vindre” or “much excitement for what may come.”

Some records are collections of tracks. Others are fragments of a life. I AM A CULT HERO is not a debut. It is a return to origin. Before Skylax Records. Before Los Angeles. Before the architecture of house music became clear. There was Sarcelles. Concrete towers. Invisible youth. Yet a coded multicultural energy where funk, soul, early hip-hop and primitive electronics coexisted before categories existed. Sarcelles was not Compton, but spiritually it was the same frontier.

95200 is not just a postcode. It is the birthplace of Hardrock Striker. 368 was the bus to the train station — the crossing line between isolation and possibility. Each journey toward Paris felt like entering another system. Those nights required discipline. Instinct. Strategy. Music was not distraction. It was structure.

Years later, Los Angeles revealed the hidden architecture behind those early intuitions. House music was not a genre but a living mechanism — built on vinyl culture, extended mixes, dubplates and repetition as language. That system had already been shaped and transmitted by pioneers such as Ron Hardy, Larry Levan, Frankie Knuckles, Electrifying Mojo, Hot Mix 5, Mark Kamins and Ron Murphy. Hardrock Striker did not imitate that language. He internalized it. The tracks on I AM A CULT HERO operate as transmissions.

Gospel For Dancers (95200 Mix / Dub) is vertical — ritual energy, lift and controlled expansion. Dance here is elevation. Erotic Loop (368 Mix / Dub) is horizontal — hypnotic repetition, circular bass motion and gradual immersion. Repetition becomes destination.

95200 and 368 are coordinates. Origin and transit. Memory and motion. Anchor and crossing.

From Sarcelles to Paris to Los Angeles to Skylax & now, back to the source.

This record closes the circle. Hardrock Striker has transformed origin into signal. Signal into structure. Structure into permanence.

A cult hero is not declared. A cult hero is revealed. Vinyl is the only truth.

From Detroit’s techno resistance to Berlin’s elastic minimalism, Lusaka’s ancestral futurism to Chicago’s house communion, When There Is No Sun is a recording project, uniting visionary electronic music producers to reimagine the universe of Sun Ra. One of the most radical musical pioneers of the 20th century, Sun Ra used jazz, electronics, poetry, and performance to expand the possibilities of sound, identity, and imagination. Commissioned by Omni Sound and curated by Ricardo Villalobos, the series brings together Underground Resistance, Chez Damier & Ben Vedren, Calibre, A Guy Called Gerald, She Spells Doom, Barış K, and Ricardo Villalobos himself. Drawing from Omni Sound’s recordings of Living Sky by the Sun Ra Arkestra and My Words Are Music of Sun Ra’s poetry, the producers pull fragments of sound and text into their own creative orbits, passing through the portal that Sun Ra opened into a realm where the impossible is possible. Saul Williams, Tunde Adebimpe, Mahogany L. Browne, Abiodun Oyewole, Anthony Joseph and Tara Middleton are the featured voices that turn rhyme into rhythm and revelation into resistance Rooted in deep reverence for Sun Ra’s legacy, yet reaching forward as a living, generative force, When There Is No Sun is not a tribute but a continuum, balancing the pulse of electronic music with the spirit of experimentation, embodying Sun Ra’s promise that ‘there are other worlds’ if you are willing to see them.

From Detroit’s techno resistance to Berlin’s elastic minimalism, Lusaka’s ancestral futurism to Chicago’s house communion, When There Is No Sun is a recording project, uniting visionary electronic music producers to reimagine the universe of Sun Ra. One of the most radical musical pioneers of the 20th century, Sun Ra used jazz, electronics, poetry, and performance to expand the possibilities of sound, identity, and imagination. Commissioned by Omni Sound and curated by Ricardo Villalobos, the series brings together Underground Resistance, Chez Damier & Ben Vedren, Calibre, A Guy Called Gerald, She Spells Doom, Barış K, and Ricardo Villalobos himself. Drawing from Omni Sound’s recordings of Living Sky by the Sun Ra Arkestra and My Words Are Music of Sun Ra’s poetry, the producers pull fragments of sound and text into their own creative orbits, passing through the portal that Sun Ra opened into a realm where the impossible is possible. Saul Williams, Tunde Adebimpe, Mahogany L. Browne, Abiodun Oyewole, Anthony Joseph and Tara Middleton are the featured voices that turn rhyme into rhythm and revelation into resistance Rooted in deep reverence for Sun Ra’s legacy, yet reaching forward as a living, generative force, When There Is No Sun is not a tribute but a continuum, balancing the pulse of electronic music with the spirit of experimentation, embodying Sun Ra’s promise that ‘there are other worlds’ if you are willing to see them.

ICONYC steps into new territory with Traffk, a spellbinding EP from UVITA, Twiins, and Motip White. Built around two deeply immersive compositions, Traffik operates as a threshold rather than a destination — a carefully measured passage into unfamiliar territory where tension is curated, expectations are subverted, and every detail feels deliberately withheld until the right moment.

At the center lies the title track, “Traffik,” a commanding convergence of three distinct creative voices distilled into a singular, unsettling vision. Suspended between austere minimalism and intricate design, the piece unfolds with a forceful rhythmic backbone that plunges into subterranean depths. Twisting brass motifs flicker and bend like fractured light across polished surfaces, creating an atmosphere that is both tactile and elusive. As the groove locks into a hypnotic oscillation, a spectral vocal presence emerges, injecting a sense of weight and foreboding before the track fractures inward, collapsing into a violent release that ejects us from its vortex with uncompromising intensity.

On our B-side, UVITA and Twiins reconvene for “Lucy Tried For It,” a continuation that trades overt drama for a slow-burning psychological pull. Anchored by a prowling low-frequency current and a relentless percussive drive, the track draws us deeper through carefully placed sonic detonations that expand its spatial dimension. Gradually, malfunctioning mechanical textures and distant, almost feral cries seep into the framework, setting the stage for an introspective spoken-word moment that nudges the piece further into the subconscious. As fragmented melodic elements begin to surface, “Lucy Tried For It” reaches a moment of suspended reflection before surging forward once more, closing the EP on an emotionally charged and resolute note.

Long-running event series Point inaugurates its new label with the debut EP by co-owner Laimonas. These four tracks draw on the weighty lineage of EBM and electro to evoke fragile mental states and their sublimation into cathartic dancefloor experience. ‘Ček’ is a brooding, almost military opener, its implacable beat tempered by expressive synth work and a striking mid-track break. ‘Fusion Glasses’ gets funkier, with ricocheting shards of percussion and jazzy keys, while ‘Editional’ leans darker, its roiling textures punctured by cosmic fanfares. The closing title track ‘Fragile Signals’ pairs the strict march of classic EBM with wordless vocal fragments and tense harmonies. This is a highly accomplished and intensely personal debut, establishing Laimonas’s voice as a producer and Point’s position at the leading edge of contemporary club music.

UK producer and DJ Huxley return’s to Rekids with the ‘Pinball Skizzard’ EP, arriving 10th April 2026.

It follows last year’s ‘MIND G%MES’ EP, which marked his debut on Radio Slave’s label and won support from artists including Enzo Siragusa, Jennifer Loveless, Carista, and Laurent Garnier. Active for over two decades, the Dumb Safari label boss has left his mark, founding the online
R Trybe community with Ramin Rezaie/BAKKIS, while boasting label credits including Aus, 20/20 Vision, and collaborator Steve Bug’s Poker Flat.

Huxley opens the ‘Pinball Skizzard’ EP with ‘Pinball’, setting the tone with a hefty House groove, anchored by cavernous bass, and brought to life by old-school vocal touches and bright sax motifs that inject warmth and energy into the mix. ‘Heaven’ follows with a buoyant rhythm, pairing glowing chords and twinkling melodic details with deep, dubby low-end pressure designed to keep bodies locked in motion. ‘Deep Down’ shifts into a slinkier back-room groove, rich in atmosphere and soulful vocal fragments that underline its timeless house feel. Closing track ‘Felix’ rounds things out with a percussive roller built around vocal snippets and subtle tribal accents, delivering a stripped-back but effective finale that fits neatly within the Rekids aesthetic.

With Dispersion, Loom & Thread return to the volatile architecture of the expanded piano trio - and quietly fracture it from within.

Daniel Klein (drums), Tobias Fröhlich (double bass) and Tom Schneider (keys, sampler) remain the sole agents on stage and in the final recording. The triangle holds. And yet, the field has expanded. For their second studio album, the trio fed their improvisations with the timbral signatures of guest saxophone and vibraphone players - not just as additional voices to be featured, but also as material to be absorbed, atomized and redistributed. The result is not augmentation but thorough refraction.

Where the debut album explored the recursive labyrinth of Schneider's live sampling of his own piano, Dispersion introduces an external grain into the feedback system. Breath and metal. Reed turbulence and struck resonance. The trio sampled extended improvisations by saxophone and vibes players: Victor Fox, Asger Nissen, Volker Heuken, and L&T's own Daniel Klein; dissected their attacks, overtones and decay curves, and integrated these fragments into the trio's internal circuitry. What emerges is a play of presences without bodies - instrumental ghosts circulating through the dense weave of rhythm and keys.

At first, one might hear the familiar relational tension: Klein's polyrhythmic elasticity interlocking with Fröhlich's tensile double bass figurations, Schneider poised at the hinge between tonal field and percussive impulse. But soon, the surface splinters - again. A vibraphone shimmer appears, yet no mallets are visible. A reed multiphonic surges through the texture, bending space between bass and drums. These events are neither quotations nor overlays; they are redistributed energies, dispersed across the trio's grammar. A digital multidimensional interplay ensues.

If the first album unfolded as a two-tiered game - live phrase and sampled reflection - Dispersion adds a further axis. The sampled materials from other improvisers are stripped of their erstwhile two-way interaction and reconstituted as malleable particles. Signifier detached from origin, resonance detached from gesture. The trio navigates a constantly shifting topology in which acoustic memory and electronic manipulation are indistinguishable.

Crucially, the album never abandons the physical urgency of three musicians reacting in real time. The additional timbral layers do not thicken the texture into opacity; rather, they introduce stark points and arrows of diffraction. Density opens into prismatic clarity. Lines splinter and regroup. What seems like a quartet or quintet collapses back into three bodies negotiating an expanded field.

Dispersion is not about addition but about distribution - of agency, of timbre, of temporal perspective. It is an album in which the trio setting becomes a site of multiplicity without surrendering its immediacy. A dissolution not only of the divide between present experience and memory, but between inside and outside, self and other.

Three musicians. Countless vectors. A music that fractures in order to cohere.

CREDITS:
Tom Schneider: piano & sampler
Tobi Fröhlich: double bass
Daniel Klein: drums & percussion

sample sources:
Victor Fox: tenor saxophone
Asger Nissen: alto saxophone
Volker Heuken: vibes
Daniel Klein: vibes

Recorded by Martin Dressler at Bauer Studios, Ludwigsburg.
Mixed & mastered by Martin Ruch.
Artwork by Viet Hoa Le.

In Mikey’s own words, ““Myths of the MediterrAlien” is a high-octane voyage through a universe where ancient cultures collide with futuristic visions.” For him “the MediterrAlien is a hybrid character who drifts between mythology and outer space, carrying fragments of both history and hyperspace into the club.” Across four explosive tracks, the EP reimagines deconstructed club and experimental bass through a fast, hyper-energetic lens. Each piece feels like a different chapter in the MediterrAlien’s journey, spiralling through cosmic turbulence, touching down on ancient shores, and refracting tradition through the intensity of a distant galaxy.

Designed for the late-night fringes of the dance floor, Myths of the MediterrAlien is both a personal mythology and a sonic wormhole—bridging the universe where Jensen Interceptor’s comes from with where his imagination is heading next.

All tracks written and produced by Jensen Interceptor. Master by Carlos Nascimento at Qualia Audio Lab. Artwork by Conhecido João & Diogo Vasconcelos

Clear Coloured Vinyl incl. Booklet in silk screened pvc sleeve

Sound fragments unfold across Zurich, making loss, memory, and cultural change physically and acoustically perceptible. In The Rhythm of Design, Zurich-based fine arts duo Michael Meier & Christoph Franz explore urban displacement and its impact on the local music scene.

Focusing on six venues that have disappeared or are under threat, the artists collected materials on site—wood, metal, and other architectural elements—and, with the support of professional instrument builders, transformed them into six musical instruments. Six artists and groups connected to these spaces—namely Kalabrese, Tobibi Ferrari-Bienz, Rafal Skoczek, Lucien Badoux & Jeremy Sauter, Nicola Kazimir, and Dualism—each composed a piece for them, forming the basis for site-specific performances in September 2025. Rather than performing as an ensemble, the works—ranging from experimental funk and punk to kraut, noise, and drone—unfolded simultaneously in spatial fragments at the original locations. Only through movement and listening across the city did the composition emerge as a whole. ​​The work was realized in collaboration with the City of Zurich, Art in Public Space (KiöR).

Eight months after the original performances took place, the pieces are released via Switzerland-based publishing platform Präsens Editionen. The record—available as a limited-edition coloured vinyl with a special artwork, as a digital album, and for streaming—carries the fragmented sounds of Zurich into a new form of collective memory, extending the work beyond its original locations as a lasting document of urban transformation.


* Edition of 300 clear color vinyl
* Special artwork feat. silk-screen printed plastic sleeve and an extensive booklet, designed by award-winning graphic design studio A Language, Melina Wilson and Martin Stoecklin
* Published by Präsens Editionen