Buscar:head pressure

2025 Repress

DJ Koze exists both above and beyond club culture as we know it - his albums and remixes flying free from genre and trend - and symbiotically woven into its heart. Yes, he always abstracts and weirds out the principles of house, techno, hip hop, pop, psychedelia, exotica and so forth, but he does that because he understands them. And when it comes to club-demolishing tracks, he understands those principles as well as just about anybody on earth. Thus he could create an enduring club tune like 2015's 'XTC' that is strange, contemplative, even disturbing, bore little relation to anything around at the time, yet still got bodies moving and sweating better than way more obvious techno bangers. And thus the Knock Knock album, which melts a million genres and none into one another, can comfortably include 'Seeing Aliens". 'Seeing Aliens' unquestionably is a banger, its bass riff snaking around your body like a python, its high-drama strings, pianos and outbursts of noise designed for maximum crowd pressure release. But, again, it sounds like nothing else, and its dynamics and twists unfold over eight and a half minutes in ways that will mess with your head every time no matter how many times you hear it. The exclusive b-side track, 'Nein König Nein' ("No King No"!), meanwhile, is slightly gentler on the face of it: it's less about sonic pressure, more about hip-shaking syncopation. But it too tells strange fairytales in its peculiar and brain-tweaking accumulation of detail, and though you'll hear archetypal sounds from the heart of house and disco in it, every last one of them becomes new and otherworldly.

Four years on from their landmark Grassroots, visionary half-time heavyweights The Untouchables return with their third album, Lost Knowledge. The duo of Kate McGill and Ajit 'Nitrox' Steyns have carved out a space in modern D&B all their own, building on a legacy that reaches back to the late 00s to keep pushing into unexplored terrain with an assured and deadly line in rhythmic intrigue and atmospheric immersion.

Lost Knowledge launches into action instantly with the high-pressure drum science and dubby splashes of 'Drunken Bells', capturing the loopy techno propulsion and rolling intensity that drives so much of the output on Samurai Music. Where The Untouchables excel is in finding variety and nuance in their relatively forbidding, pared down sound. The heads-down groove of 'Mafia Town' owes as much to dembow and dancehall as D&B, while 'Lost Knowledge' spirals out into psychoactive flurries of synth strafes and organic percussion slathered in tight-locked delay trails. There's no light relief from strident hooks or riffs, just a pure, unshakeable commitment to the power of the beat and deeply designed layers of sound shaping out the space around.

'Busy Bones' makes space for carefully deployed hints of pad tone while the snares snap out of the mix with a sharp set of teeth. 'Four Eared Demon' baits the gabber crowd with its rapid-fire 4/4 hats atop seasick creaks across the midrange, keeping subtlety and patience in the lower frequencies to maintain the signature elegance readily associated with The Untouchables. 'Phase Correlation' teases an artfully unhinged ripple of synth that stands out amongst the murky murmurs filling out the middle distance, but it's still exercised with brutal precision.

Nothing happens by accident or feels out of place - McGill and Steyns are in total control, and they demonstrate incredible range and inventive approaches within their focused style. The accent of the grooves shifts, and individual sounds carry all kinds of artefacts, yet everything gets folded into the exacting Untouchables sound with a liberal dubwise sensibility. Brimming with inspiration and immaculately produced, on Lost Knowledge their one-of-a-kind sound is stronger than ever.

Zum 20-jährigen Jubiläum erscheint A Certain Trigger gemeinsam mit der 2006er B-Sides- und Demo-Compilation Missing Songs als hochwertige 2LP auf schwarzem Vinyl im Gatefold-Cover. Die Zusammenstellung enthält seltene B-Seiten und Demo-Aufnahmen aus den UK-Singles dieser Ära und wird ergänzt durch ein beidseitig bedrucktes, farbiges 60 × 90 cm Poster auf luxuriösem Kunstdruckpapier. Ein Sammlerstück für alle Fans des energiegeladenen Indie-Rock-Sounds von Maxïmo Park.

Format: 2LP schwarzes Vinyl, Gatefold, inkl. beidseitigem Farbposter (60 × 90 cm)

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”

Zum 20-jährigen Jubiläum erscheint A Certain Trigger gemeinsam mit der 2006er B-Sides- und Demo-Compilation Missing Songs als hochwertige 2LP auf schwarzem Vinyl im Gatefold-Cover. Die Zusammenstellung enthält seltene B-Seiten und Demo-Aufnahmen aus den UK-Singles dieser Ära und wird ergänzt durch ein beidseitig bedrucktes, farbiges 60 × 90 cm Poster auf luxuriösem Kunstdruckpapier. Ein Sammlerstück für alle Fans des energiegeladenen Indie-Rock-Sounds von Maxïmo Park.

Format: 2LP schwarzes Vinyl, Gatefold, inkl. beidseitigem Farbposter (60 × 90 cm)

Next up on Luke Slater's Mote-Evolver is Primal Instinct co-founder Chlär with the 'Topography' EP. It follows his debut album, 'The Architects of Shadows', which came out on Primal Instinct at the tail end of 2024, and sees the Swiss-bom, Germany-based artist deliver four more tracks of unmistakable, dance-floor-primed Chlär sound.

Chlär's 'Topography' EP embraces Mote-Evolver's tradition of deeper groove Techno with finesse, seeing 'Altitude' kick off proceedings as a heads-down slice of hypnotism featuring can't-miss Techno rhythm while otherworldly creatures add to the atmosphere. 'Serac' then delves even further, its effective bassline welded together with subtle sequences before we flip the record around for 'Lamin', a track rife with ghostly dub chords and remnants of a vocal sample. Closing out the trip is 'Phantom Grid', a clap riding its groove as it builds the intensity, dropping the pressure with hammering kickdrums and excellent, warped percussion for another lose-yourself club offering from the ever-promising Chlär.

Benjamin Hudson returns to Acroplane, following his last projects with us as Ebola (Wrong Music) and one half of Baconhead, with 'Slime'… and he's brought a load of his talented mates to collaborate with him.

Artwork by Everything Alllways

Mastering by James Forde Stewart @ Sorting Room Studios.

Brain Rays is part of queer collective, DOOMSCROLL, and Devon art & party crew, Bizarre Rituals. He is also a co-founder of Wrong Music alongside DJ Scotch Egg and Matt Lambert (Roger Species).

Known for his hectic, high pressure output with Quiet, and film soundtrack work (as part of Unknown Horrors) collaborating with director Dean Puckett (The Severed Sun, The Sermon, Satan's Bite) and Rhys Chapman (Wonderkid). As a DJ he has performed all over the world, including Transmediale Festival (Berlin), Today's Art (Den Haag) and Boomtown Fair, as well as two live sessions at Radio 1's legendary Maida Vale Studios. As a producer he has garnered support from the likes of Mary Anne Hobbs, ETCH, Huw Stephens, Drumskull, Annie Mac, and Nikki Nair.

Some things simply need time to brew. Loek Frey returns to Omen Wapta with his third release on the label: Nayan. The Amsterdam-based artist shares a long-standing friendship with label head Woody92 - keeping each other in motion as artistic peers since the label's inception. Over time, they've built a shared archive of material: sound sketches, tracks, and sonic touchpoints - an ever-evolving third space where their paths continue to meet as they move in parallel. Nayan emerges from this deep-rooted exchange: a distilled six-track release that fuses Frey's cerebral intricacy with the label's primordial uncanniness, reaffirming both as key voices in a yet-to-be-defined sonic realm. Diving into the release, Frey's signature remains intact - tactile, spatial, and rhythmically precise - but a subtle shift is at play. A paring down. A move toward something more reduced, maybe even more patient, yet no less absorbing. The A side leans inward: deep pressure, spectral traces, and an undercurrent of tension that never quite resolves. It's music for staying with, not escaping from. Flip to the B side and the palette widens - kicks land heavier, patterns loosen, textures fill the full frequency field. Still deeply rooted in the Wapta world, but with an assertiveness that whispers rather than shouts. Somewhere between absence and force. With Nayan, Loek Frey carries his Omen Wapta narrative into new territory - merging restless experimentation with dancefloor intention.

15 Years Of Dame-Music Vol. 3 marks the final chapter in a celebratory trilogy from the label, closing out a decade and a half of fearless sonic exploration.

True to form, Vol. 3 delivers a curated cross-section of techno, electro, and acidic dancefloor pressure, each track a statement, each artist a pillar of the underground.
From outer space techno to basement electro, this record is a testament to the label’s enduring influence and unrelenting spirit, with six standout cuts from across the techno and electro spectrum which inc. artists such as Dr Smoke (aka Oscar Mulero), DJ MELL G, Millimetric, Alienata, Delectro and label head Bloody Mary.

Identified Patient returns to Dekmantel for a third time with his Reset EP. The future-facing four tracker is another mutant fusion of bass and techno with low-end power with cerebral sound designs.

Job Veerman debuted on the Dekmantel UFO Series in 2019, returned in 2020 and has lit up the festival several times with transportative sets that balance power with precision. Like his productions on the Nerve Collect label, he co-runs with Gamma Intel, they are leftfield explorations of genre and tempo that find strange sensuality in often abstract ideas. Once again here, the Dutchman draws on eclectic influences to craft music that sounds like no one else but remains anchored by magnetic rhythms.

Opener 'Light' kicks off with a fuzzy synth line that slithers between syncopated drums. Whispered vocals drift through the mix as lurching basslines swell and collapse beneath them. The groove disassembles and reassembles in waves, propelled forward by bursts of glitchy, off-kilter percussion that's unsteady yet seductive. 'Scales' is a slow, menacing descent into rhythmic darkness. It sounds both ancient and futuristic with ghoulish vocalisations and filtered synths flickering like a badly wired circuit. There's a rave tension lurking throughout, but always in the shadows.

'Internal Pace' drives on but rides fluid, wobbly bass while tightly looped hits build the pressure. Layers of static and subtle distortion add grit to this unrelenting heads-down roller. Finally, 'Return' is a kinetic, razor-edged ride where jungle breaks collide serpentine melodies. Ethereal female coos drift in and out, brushing against spat-out vocal fragments so that tension crackles throughout this hallucinogenic trip.

With Reset, Identified Patient reaffirms his status as a singular voice who twists sound into evocative new worlds.

John Calvin Abney rises again from the Oklahoman prairies with his latest album Transparent Towns. The ten songs focus on how we remember, and ultimately accept, though he is not always certain the memories we carry adequately mark the moments that make us. "This record is wrapped around the passage of time, whether or not we can trust the memories that we swear on, how we forgive ourselves and others as seasons turn, and how we define what is important as we roll the boulder back up the hill," Abney says of Transparent Towns. "We build these routines and live our stories, we rely on our histories and our memories - spoken and recorded. Now, we're relying on copies of copies, memories of memories, all packed like sardines into our phones, and we're losing the ability to tell our own stories. I have to constantly remind myself, as well as redefine what matters at the end of a day." Transparent Towns is the seventh studio album for Abney, and his first since 2022's Tourist, which he crafted after spending the pandemic as an itinerant writer. In contrast Abney penned most of the album's 10 tracks during a period of introspection and convalescence while recovering from vocal cord surgery in 2023. The time to himself - "I didn't sing for nearly a year, and after surgery, I couldn't talk for a month, and couldn't sing for over three months," he says, left him contemplating how to trace his experiences in the silence. The album's title track is Abney's take on the inaccessible past, witnessing loss and grief through the years, damning the "days we let go left unsaid", and accepting the uncontrollable circumstances we are sometimes placed in. "The troubles and the joys exist vibrantly in your memory, but you're wondering if you remember correctly," Abney remarks. "I've sometimes had this sort of confusion between memory and dreams - you crafted this ideal in your head of how things were or might be, in order to soften the blow of a harsher reality." The places we inhabit dictate how our memories form, and for Abney, there is one place to which he is constantly drawn: Oklahoma. Although he was born in the biggest little city in America, Reno, Nevada, he grew up learning guitar and piano in Tulsa, playing bars and DIY spaces from Norman to Stillwater. His affinity for the land that raised him is evident in the production of Transparent Towns. Abney self-produced the record, tracking most of it at Cardinal Song outside of Oklahoma City, with Michael Trepagnier handling mixing and engineering. The band was comprised mostly of Sooner State musicians too, along with Lydia Loveless and John Moreland contributing harmony vocals. His signature vulnerable voice and lyrical handiwork comes through in each of the songs, along with his penchant for alternative pop melodies set against colorful chords and subtle soundscapes. Having toured for years backing up artists like Moreland, Wild Child, Ben Kweller, and S.G. Goodman, Abney embraces a lead role again, as he presses forward with the loving lament and defiant joy throughout Transparent Towns, calling us to leave behind the pressures we place on our ourselves and recognize that just because there is an ending, it doesn't mean it's the end.

3XL boss and scene hyper-connector Special Guest DJ (aka uon, shy, Caveman LSD) lands on their own label with a debut album of hazed ambient noise and aquatic club anarchitextures, with a patented, heady style bent into new shapes.

For nigh on a decade, Berlin-based American producer, label boss, promoter and DJ Shy has operated at the centre of a scene that's still not fully defined. Their mythical DJ sets, where you're likely to hear precision-tweaked dubstep, dreampop, decelerated rap and dubwise ambient blended into vapour; gives some sense of the vibes at play, and a comb thru their spiderweb of a catalog - as Caveman LSD or uon, as part of Ghostride the Drift, Hoodie, crimeboys, virtualdemonlaxative and Cypher, or as the figurehead of 3XL, Experiences Ltd, xpq? and bblisss labels - further blurs that gist.

They've been caught in the crossfire of Big Ambient, sure, but there's always been something scrappier, sexier and more present going on under the hood. Shy and his network of associates - Huerco, Ulla, Perila, Ben Bondy, Naemi/Exael, Ponteac Streator and Arad Acid, among others - have asserted the interrelatedness of their discrete approaches. So-called "ambient" music doesn't exist in a vacuum, it un-focuses elements that undergird so many more corporeal sounds, and for Shy, their music reflects the druggy, DIY, genre-agnostic ethos of a trans-Atlantic neo-punk underground that exists in some liminal zone between the club, the bedsit and the basement.

Concerned with themes of “anger, sensuality, and dreaming”, the 40 minute roil of ‘Our Fantasy Complex’ frames Special Guest DJ at their most unapologetically oblique and illusive, expanding and contracting between whorls of shoegazing dynamics and extended portions of quasi-speed D&B x dub tech smeared on the mind’s-eye, with a vivid sense of bruised lushness that’s perfused all shy’s work thus far.

Joined by kindred collaborators Ben Bondy, Arad Acid and mu tate, and suspended in agitated bliss by Rashad Becker’s lucid mastering, the results feel out some of 2025’s most considered and distinctive within an amorphous zone that’s become a world unto itself. Ambient music’s fluffier signifiers are swapped out for a sort of sublime tension that, like the sound’s original ‘90s explosion, can be heard to reflect states of altered consciousness - both individual and collective.

Shy's layered, undulating productions are more like the chewed remnants of a thousand mixtapes cooked into a stream-of-consciousness hex. Save for the glistening, zoomed-out parting piece ‘Dream’, it all mostly avoids pretty melodies in favour of a spatio-textural sensuality that wraps us up, sometimes uncomfortably intimately, in shy’s thoughts. That oneiric closer is one of three gritty palate cleansers that swirl around its peaks, where elements of Reese-bass are suspended, writhing below looming atmospheric pressure in ‘How Long Can I Burn?’, emerging charred and flecked with rattled percussion on ‘Yoro (pt I & II)’, as though K-holing thru a blazing summer’s day.

In step with Perila’s notably darker turn of events on her ‘Omnis Festinatio Ex parts Diaboli Est’, album, or the unexpected ferocity of recent Space Afrika live shows, it’s not hard to hear a darkside gravitational pull on this one, where ambient music is no longer just a balm for troubled souls, but also suggestive of humanity’s most frightful odours.

Token presents the 6th chapter of the Fuga series. Challenging new faces to complete the label's sound, Fuga VI is another focused compilation that balances spatial detail and rhythmic bite.

Skipping any introduction to dive straight into the essence of the compilation, Skjöld portrays 'Forbidden City' as a tense aquatic exploration. With pressure in the low end, he keeps the record alive by conjuring obscure pads to give dimension and intrigue to an already nervous track. This persistence is quickly met with weight; Tapefeed's 'Residual Memory' follows up to tap into the label's more aggressive side. Riddled with mechanical sound design bordering on the industrial, the Tapefeed duo creates dancefloor dominating energy that sets them apart with an all-out approach. The density of this second track feeds smoothly into Stephen Disario's 'Out Of Tune' - a drum-forward record with dispersed texture. The LA based producer puts his hi hats brutally forward to cut through the space, finding a remarkable balance between its two sides and exploiting its confrontation. Returning to the label's recognizable resonance, Merino steps in with 'Memoria' - a manic 5 minute synth loop with minimal percussion. Dealing in restraint and dissonance, Merino naturally finds a home in Fuga VI with this track before heading back into the peak time paranoia of JSPRV35 in 'Question'. Pushing up the intensity and flicking through vintage percussion lines, 'Question' is an extraverted homage to the origins of techno that embodies flair. The track drives through the middle of Fuga with ease, bouncing rhythm off a sharp bassline with thundering claps and snares. 'Catch 22' by Terminus restores balance with minimalism but pace. A hypnotic break in the second half is sure to mesmerize dancers and home listeners alike. Stuttering hats shake throughout 'Catch 22' to push the track along, keeping the harmony low and maintaining focus on the movement. With a similar tempo, Sanna Mun follows up with 'Binary Systems'. A speedrun through an acid-like bassline, the track's rhythm is obsessive and persistent as we reach the conclusion of the compilation. Fuga VI comes full circle with a ghostly track by Mode_1 called 'Lifespan', stretching time and tunneling through with booming toms and shuffled hats. Keeping the pressure high and maintaining that never ending energy is the only way to wrap up such a high energy release and Mode_1 does just that.

After a massive 2024 that included the release of their second album Vol. 2 and a U.S. tour, Naarm/Melbourne punks Split System are back with new 7" On the Edge/On the Loose.The feeling of stress and anxiety permeates through both tracks. The opener is the sleazy, hardcore-infused On the Edge, featuring a pounding rhythm that mirrors the pressure of day-to-day life and the inevitable breakdown that awaits.Next, the sub-two-minute On the Loose delivers a catchy, high-energy garage-punk thumper about moving through life feeling like you've got a gun to your head. The band will return to Europe mid-year 2025, including a spot at the Best Kept Secret Festival in the Netherlands.

With Wait A Minute EP, Italian trio Joyfull Family (Chico Perulli, Guido Nemola and Cristian Carpentieri) lay down a proper slice of timeless house, laced with modern flair and proper dancefloor heat.

The Original Mix of "Wait A Minute" is pure deep-house goodness – lush grooves, fat basslines and silky vocal cuts stitched together into a classy, late-night roller. A real warm-up weapon for heads who know.

G&D’s Remix (Gino Grasso and Dino Angioletti flexing their chops) roughs it up with a raw, funk-fuelled twist – dusty drums, elastic bass and chopped-up vox that slap just right. Proper vintage vibes without sounding played out.

Relative’s Peaktime Mix takes the tune up a gear: chunkier kicks, clever delay work and pressure-cooker build-ups that scream peaktime weapon, all while keeping the original’s soul intact. Certified floor-filler.

Closing the EP is "The Prince" (GN Mix) – a deeper, more heads-down affair packed with hypnotic grooves and a cheeky, slinky bassline that’ll keep the afterhours crowd bubbling nicely.

In a nutshell:A rock-solid EP that tips the hat to 90s house roots while keeping the production crisp and forward-thinking. Groove is the name of the game here, and each remix brings its own spice without losing the heart of the original. Whether you're warming up the floor or setting it ablaze, there’s plenty to pull from here.

Credits:

Tracks A1, B2 produced by Joyfull Family (Chico Perulli, Guido Nemola, Cristian Carpentieri)

Track A2 remixed by Gino Grasso & Dino Angioletti

Track B1 remixed by Simone Guerra aka Relative

Mastered by Francesco Brini at Spectrum Studio, Bologna.

Design by Matteo Pozzi

Words by Matteo Garavini

KZN005 sees Silas & Snare return to the Kaizen fold with the three-track 'Pressure' EP. Lead track 'Pressure' is a continuation of Kaizen's recognisably weighty bass-inspired sound, carried by hefty kicks and screwed synths after a lengthy cosmic build-up. A downtempo influence runs through 'Dreamscape', the floaty synths countered with skittering drums, while EP closer 'Whistle Blower' is packed with industrial percussion and creepy bleeps made for those heads-down, screw-face moments on the dancefloor. This EP comes three years after Silas & Snare's Kaizen debut, 'Biometric'. Gear up and get ready for some 'Pressure'!

The hypnagogic haze of purling, refractive dub is strong on Sleepdial’s debut for West Mineral, introducing a crafty new name to the scene after a teasing preview on that Peak Oil x NWAQ radio show, delivering a heavy-lidded dose of tattered ambient dub inversions.

Sleepdial chases a frayed thread of thought thru the fractal echo chambers of ‘RV Lights’, only their 2nd full-length under this alias, and first on vinyl. The 9-part album is optimised for getting smudged on sunny daze with its pursuit of elusive dub sprites that connote subaquatic or vaporous etheric themes in their elemental diffusions and world-building ecologies.

In equilibrium of ambient and dub-as-method, they tenderly tease the senses with a fine grasp of deferred gratification, oscillating abstract spatial navigations and ephemeral moments of heart-in-mouth euphoria. Where sometimes this stuff can err to a pleasant mess, the dub ballast here anchors proceedings in a rugged groove that really pushes the right buttons and elevates the whole thing in its own air.

Blessed with a compelling sensuality, tracks follow a course from the compressed contrails of ‘Purview’ to the helical shapes of ‘Dovetailing’ and thru beautifully pill-bellied sensations on ‘Icarus Rising’, into ruggeder, insectoid dub in ‘Blue August’ to short circuit agitated and soothing feels. That fractured sort of duality manifests at its most anxious yet enchanted in the unpicked strings and astral scree of ‘Lightplay’, and in the title and feel of ‘Lean Angst’, gently keeping heads on toes into the swirling pressure system of album sign-off ‘Airtank’.

2025 Repress

A tale of paramount love for machines and the inextinguishable power of subjugation that lies in these button-studded boxes teeming with cabled bowels that feel so intimidating to the uninitiated, Italo Brutalo's longed-for debut album "Heartware" is a 12-track voyage across 25 years of intense synth collecting, fiddling,
composing and endless loving for audio synthesis and the art of how robots make human bodies jack.
Throughout the twelve cuts that compose "Heartware", a feeling of retro-gazing, candidly playful glee prevails. Looking right in the eye of the era when dazzling flipper visuals and static-filled VHS glitches
reigned supreme, Italo Brutalo invites us to witness first-hand his own textbook smorgasbord of fast-wheeling arpeggios and vocodized hoodoo ("Heartware", "Reach Horizon"), dystopian digital sunsets by the beach ("I Feel Lonely"), early hip-hop-informed whackin' n' thumpin' ("Analog Bars") and the slo but hard churn of a robot heist score ("Nobody Moves").
A lush tapestry of woozy exotic pads set in contrast with a deft and aggro drum programming ("As Above So Below"), followed by a new-beat oriented hammer-drop that shall leave no raver unscathed ("Heat of the Knight"), Italo Brutalo shifts the scope to radical effect whilst maintaining that cohesive headspace flush with the iconic 80s-to-90s-sourced assets. The hardware used in the making of "Heartware" is obviously the star here, and the inner sleeve pays tribute to that: the ideas behind the album have been there waiting to find their way out for over twenty years!
From adrenalin-boosting fractals of keyboard razzle-dazzle ("Chemical Element") to straight out pumping EBM primed for hi-octane mosh pits down the basement ("You Are Welcome"), via polyrhytmic percs-driven assaults and sizzling hot synth-smithery ("Into a Sampler"), the pressure levels never falter. Yet, Italo Brutalo sure knows how to weave further oneiric, softer narratives for your mind to frolic in unhindered ("Dream Machine") and rounds it all off with a total, space-opera'esque epic bound to have you spinning out of orbit into the great unknown ("Eternia").
"Heartware" is released in a neat double-vinyl gatefold package presenting the concept and machines involved in its making, including a twelve-page booklet featuring Italo Brutalo's key pieces of gear.

Techno innovator Regent has already made his mark on Mutual Rytm with two previous outings highlighting his refined but powerful style. The Berlin-based artist joins the dots between bold percussive grooves and distinct cerebral layers, with his productions continuing to receive wide support from DJs and tastemakers across the globe. This return to SHDW's flourishing label features one of his most anticipated tracks to date - a truly timeless warehouse anthem that marks an exciting new chapter for both Regent and the label.

'Permean' is a raw but sophisticated piece of techno that merges powerful drums with hypnotic pads. It brims with surgical sound design. While the groove is fierce, a haunting melodic touch adds a soft and deeply emotional edge
as Regent explores the tension between permanence and decay, delivering a timeless and essential track.

The first remix comes from Steve Rachmad under his Sterac guise. This version channels the spirit of his early work - pure, stripped-back techno at its finest. Tightly programmed and deep, it features burrowing bass and impish synths dancing up top to occupy the mind while the body moves.

Next comes a remix from one of the most innovative producers of our time, Rene Pawlowitz, under his Head High alias, a project reserved for his more house leaning sounds. His 'Power Tool Mix' brings his signature loopy style with thudding kicks, raw hi-hats and twitchy synths - already shaping up to be a summer hit. Pawlowitz then steps out under his renowned techno alias Shed. His 'Forceful Pressure Mix' is a blistering and unrelenting weapon, with rusty textures and powerful bass locking you in its glitches, unresolved loops and booming low end.

Spectral Bounce’s fifth instalment comes courtesy of L.A.’s rave archivist and dancefloor operative Dreams, A.K.A. Jesse Pimenta. Throughout his decade-long career the California native has inspected, dissected and concocted all manner of dance musics, leaving his mark with drops on Apron Records, Pinkman, BANK NYC and his own imprint Dance Data. On SPEC05 — Dangerous When Wet — he hijacks the synapses with 4 accomplished productions, plotting a high BPM course through manifold styles using the raw aesthetic that characterises his output.

“Losing Control” is a frenetic dancefloor invitation, immediately locking into a pacing groove. Beneath wild hand drums, Dreams plays with an insistent 303 bassline alternating between rasping buzz and oily squelch, while stern vocals are layered on top of breaks that have been processed to a viscerally satisfying end.

Taking things from delirious dance circle to underwater biosphere, the EP’s eponymous track explores a submerged 1980s Miami. Weighty & enveloping, “Dangerous When Wet” is pure aquatic pop-n-lock — hydraulic electro for a drowned world. Ocean floor caustics are transmuted into auditory form: arpeggios bubble up; drones shimmer mystically; hi-hats hiss like air from an open valve. Amongst the sonar bleeps, a barrage of pummeling low-end is sure to give subwoofers a workout.

“XTC Messenger” delivers an infectious paranoid dispatch, astutely balancing the sensual with the deranged. A slow-mo dial tone unfolds languidly, running counter to nervously twitching high frequencies. Its punchy percussion is tuned for maximum dopamine release; the track’s abrupt vocal chops and mechanical kick-snare pulsation evoke the leather jackets and jagged edges of 1980s industrial discotheque.

“Pressure Points” closes the EP on a heady and mesmerising polymetric trip. The parting track is a lithe yet spacious number, propelled by a rattling break. Here Dreams follows from track 2, creating an immersive environment in which sounds tightly twist and twirl. Shifting oscillators call out like tiny creatures as the bass throbs and wriggles further into your brain, long after the needle hits the runout groove.

Claire Chicha aka Spill Tab is feeling more free than ever before. The LA-based, French-Korean songwriter and producer,has spent the past five years as spill tab honing a sound that is as raw-edged as it is refined, channelling low-slung guitar-strumming confessionals as well as the earworming melodic hooks of anthemic pop to produce a heady and distinctive mix.

Following the 2019 release of her intimate and infectious debut single “Decompose”, Spill Tab has evolved her spill tab project through three EPs: 2020’s synth-pop influenced Oatmilk, 2021’s playful, uptempo Bonnie, featuring Gus Dapperton and Tommy Genesis, and 2023’s co-produced, sonically-intricate Klepto, which gleefully meanders from the Hiatus Kaiyote-influenced jazz freakouts of “CRÈME BRÛLÉE!” to the guitar-chugging thump of “Splinter”. Live, meanwhile, Spill Tab has been tapped for her explosively energetic presence to open the North American leg of popstar Sabrina Carpenter’s tour, as well as touring through Australia with alt-rock trio Wallows.
With “PINK LEMONADE”, opening single from her forthcoming debut album “ANGIE” , spill tab’s freewheeling sound finds its fullest expression, harnessing this onstage experience and recorded experimentation with her bass-weight and pitched-up vocals. Here we find Chicha only ever chasing that “weird thing”, fizzing with an infectious enthusiasm and intricate musicianship. “The best songs come from writing the main idea in a day, as it’s so instinctual,” she says, such as “PINK LEMONADE” recorded “from a clip taken out of a 40-minute jam that we then chopped and spliced”.
Born to her French Algerian composer father and Korean pianist mother, Claire Chicha spent her early childhood in the mixing room of her parents’ LA post-production studio, bringing coffees to artists as they tracked scores for exciting new projects. “I hung out in that studio all the time until I was around 10 years old, absorbing jazz music my dad was into and classical music that my mom loved,” Chicha says. “My mom had a big hand in making me an adventurous kid, always trying new things from piano to harp and violin, forever soaking up new sounds.”

At 12, Chicha’s life was uprooted as she relocated to Thailand to live with her mother’s family following the collapse of her parents’ business after the 2008 recession. What followed was an unstable and formative few years of early teenagedom, navigating new cultures and life changes. In Thailand, Chicha began learning guitar to cover the Paramore and Green Day tracks she had grown to love while also becoming immersed in Thai traditional music. After a year, she moved once more to live with her aunt in Paris and there she was introduced to the classic sound of Serge Gainsbourg and Édith Piaf before ultimately returning to LA following the untimely death of her father.

“I had to become a real people person to fit in everywhere I was moving, and it immersed me into so many different styles of music,” she says. “I went from listening to the nasal singing of Thai traditional music at muay thai fights in Bangkok, to emotive classic French songs. It definitely informed the need to experiment with my sound as I became more interested in making music.”

At high school in LA, Chicha joined one of the country’s foremost show choirs and realised a natural aptitude for stagecraft and performance as she sang medleys in competitions throughout the US. Going on to study Music Business at NYU, Chicha found a love for the alternative soul and singer-songwriting of the likes of Moses Sumney and Bon Iver, as well as developing her own sound while spending summers interning as an A&R at Atlantic Records and being exposed to the gamut of New York’s live music scene.

“I was going to so many shows as an A&R intern and seeing just how much a lot of music sounded alike,” she says. “It made me realise I wanted my music to feel different, to cut through the noise but still make something that felt honest to me.”

Beginning to independently release tracks, Soill Tab gradually built a loyal fanbase with the release of wistful early numbers “Calvaire” and “Cotton Candy” and soon found herself signed to a major label. Yet, as her career progressed through the COVID pandemic the demands of a corporate major began to conflict with her own searching style. “My last two EPs were under contract and it felt like I was always chasing the carrot,” she says, “I felt a certain pressure to put out tracks quickly and find that ‘hit’. It wasn’t the right environment to truly make what I wanted.”

Ultimately parting ways with her label, Chicha began work on a new album, exploring new sounds and ideas with her LA-based community of collaborators like producer David Marinelli, Solomonophonic, Wyatt and Austin and John DeBold, without expectation. “It became this beautiful experience of only following ideas that I really believed in and exploring all the musical avenues I hadn’t before,” she says. “I’ve never been more excited about songs and I’ve never felt like a project is more mine.”

Writing and recording while touring with Sabrina Carpenter and Wallows, Chicha road-tested her new tracks to see what might land best with an audience who had likely never heard her music before. “You have to win people’s hearts as an opener and you can see what resonates and what doesn’t,” she says. “I would watch people fall in love or not and it’s usually always the song you’re having the most fun with that does the best. That’s what I put on the record.”

« Angie », Spill’s Tab debut album is relased on because Music and expected for May 16th release.

As one of the most prolific and influential producers of the last thirty years, The Hacker’s imprint on electronic music already spans genres, eras and scene revolutions. And still, there’s more. In spirited collaboration with friend and fellow French journeyman Endrik Schroeder, the first release from The Hacker & Endrik Schroeder Project eschews EBM excess or gritty electro. Instead, two introductory tracks slip into the continuum of evergreen underground techno, influenced in equal part by the digital soul of Detroit, and the futurist experimentations of Sheffield.

Quickly escalating from a classic beat to a hoover-rave ascent determined to fill the vacuum of any warehouse, ‘Puissance’ is an unapologetic anthem that doubles as an elegant and impactful introduction to the Hacker & Schroeder partnership. Hypnotising dancers with ever-more forceful acid oscillations, the pair masterfully stave off the pressure with a wide-eyed organ riff, played live and direct from rave heaven.

‘The Voyagers’ contrasts with a cosmic groove, certain to satisfy heads-down bleep purists, while dedicating time and space for the charisma and quirks of this machine-led dance to shine through, including emotional pads and whispering voices, par excellence.

Berlin-based French-Irish multimedia artist Zoe Mc Pherson levels up on their third full-length "Pitch Blender", mangling years of experience DJing and performing live into a tight set of cybernetic soundsystem experiments that flicker between the rave and the art space.

Cast your mind back to February 2020 for a moment, when Mc Pherson released their last album "States of Fugue". The world seemed less tangled somehow, and yet Mc Pherson's precision-engineered fusion of exploratory sound design and visceral club pressure seemed to hint at a cataclysmic event none of us were really expecting. Only a few weeks after its release the world changed forever, and the majority of us were grounded - forced to consider our lives and the movement (or lack thereof) surrounding us. The philosophy of this extended time period is welded into the bones of "Pitch Blender", Mc Pherson's supple third album. They have learned plenty in the last two years, and infuse all of that anxiety and spiky emotionality into a spread of tracks that sound as powerful in headphones as they do over a well-tweaked soundsystem, soldering vocals, environmental recordings and instrumental flourishes to unpredictably pneumatic, cybernetic beats.

Anyone that's caught one of Mc Pherson's energetic live performances over the last few months will have an idea of what "Pitch Blender" is made of. They're an artist who's somehow able to match the raw energy of post-punk and no-wave music with the brain-altering potential of the best experimental club tracks, vocalizing an incongruous post-lockdown reality over beats that sound as if they're in a permanent state of flux. 'On Fire' splutters to life in a frenetic patter of drums that blur into oddly soothing hoover sounds, snaking lysergically towards a drop that's teased constantly, and never comes. We're forced to wait until 'The Spark' for that, fighting through choppy, pitch-mangled guitar and rolling beats until a gruesome kick drum forces its way through the psilocybin mists and heaving Bristol-inspired bass clonks. Backed up with just the inverted traces of recognizable breaks, this vigorous pulse lies at the heart of "Pitch Blender", the driving force that powers Mc Pherson's sound even when it's only hinted at.

'Blender' is the moment where Mc Pherson show their full hand, using crackling sound effects, ghost vocals and uneven rhythms to build a textural landscape that's so evocative you can almost taste it. Squealing modular synth effects sound like gameshow buzzers being triggered in another dimension and propel the track forward - it's club music, just about, but Mc Pherson's motivation is world-building, and their world is colorful, abstract, and dizzyingly surreal. "Obsolete user," their voice echoes over driving airlock kicks. But they take a swift left turn with 'Lamella', reducing the kinetic club rhythms to a longing simmer and letting loose with powerful vocals, intoning with robotic, gender-fluxed intensity. On 'Wait', New York City's clacking crosswalk signal - already an effective club track on its own - is transformed into a reminder to slow down, juxtaposed with booming sub-heavy kicks, acidic synths and effervescent percussion that rattles in time with the vibrations. It's foley rave, built for pure psychedelic intensity to blur the line between real life and sonic fiction.

One of the album's most galvanic tracks, 'Power Dynamics' curves a double-time rhythm around breathless HQ sound design squiggles until it hits a polyrhythmic crescendo, striking a queasy balance between rave hedonism and ritualistic hand drum energy. It all builds towards eerie closing track 'Outside' that acts as an important wind down, spotlighting Mc Pherson's ability to operate outside of the rhythmic spectrum, using cinematic scrapes and flickering neon synths to create music that's tense but never terrifying. The track feels like the end credits of a particularly bewildering movie - something between the cyberpunk dystopia of "Ghost in the Shell" and the vivid, sky-scraping beauty of "Koyaanisqatsi". Mc Pherson has managed something special with "Pitch Blender": mashing together genres with rare focus, and sharpening their engineering skills to a fine point, they've concocted an antidote to contemporary malaise - a wakeup call that's begging us to loosen our limbs and move.

Big new release by Peter Van Hoesen! Continuing his exploration of intricate techno systems, their effect and direct perimeter of action, Peter van Hoesen turns in his newest four-track piece, ‘Prime Directive’: a fascinating dive into the artist’s shape-shifting headspace and inner creative chaos.

Fuelled on a furnace-hot mix of abstract-leaning immersion and hi-octane rhythmic thrust, ‘Prime Directive’ looks at contemporary techno from the angle of experimentation and intuitive abandon. The result comes in the form of four distinct movements, each carving out their own logic and associated behaviour out an endless pool of potentialities. Here comes chaology unfolding in all its unadulterated, visceral glory.

‘Definition by Absence’ breaks the trip in to the sound of a faux-random symphony: its train-like swing and fiery bass seesaw coalesce through an elliptic fluttering of sorts, iterative and not, patterns moving in and out of synchronicity as van Hoesen applies more or less pressure on both ends. All in gusty in-your-face-ness, ‘Variables Edit 1’ whirls and swirls like an ominous vengeance of nature; Its puncturing kicks and whistling menace set against stellar winds and rabid machinery on the prowl for its next victim.

An even more unsettling piece of disjointedly arrhythmic, anti-club music for the dance floor, ‘Prime Directive’ will have you zoning out like a bad dream, flush with metronome-faced monsters and molten clocks hanging from dead trees. ‘Morphology’ could be PVH’s attempt at giving his concepts a carnal carcass to hold onto. Here, rhythm becomes somewhat less erratic, offering his 360-degree vision more melodic surface and actual room for dispersion. One to keep the boundaries pushed and status-quo challenged, this is techno at its most entrancingly bold and fearless.

*This new four-track epic from Peter van Hoesen comes draped in a fine piece of artwork courtesy of Atact, and pressed according to our standards in 180g audiophile quality so you get to experience the Belgian master's chiselled sound design in all its glory.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Tappa Zukie is not only one of Jamaica’s greatest DJ’s, is also a much respected producer and arranger. Looking back through his master tapes we have found a lost release that due to being a worldwide recording artist and the pressures that this carries, it has stayed on his musical shelf and been passed over... until now.

When rhythm was King way back in the 1970’s, the predominant feature of the final mix down would in most cases be the drums and bass. Bringing drums and bass to the fore, the other instruments that create the tunes mood would take a back seat in the mix. With such fine musicians in the horn sections as Vin Gordon, Deadly ‘Headley’ Bennett and the unstoppable Tommy McCook, it sometimes felt, their services if nothing else were slightly underused.

So one way of rectifying this situation was one that Tappa himself instigated, putting a release together by picking some of his favourite productions that carried classic horn lines alongside those tightly recorded rhythms. Pushing those horn lines up in the mix and so making a feature of some of those touches that although added some colour to the original cut, laid back in the mix to the more Sound System friendly drum and bass cut.

When looking at the music with this approach, some of the other influences that were also in Tappa’s mind can be noticed more. Maybe it’s a Jazzier / Bluesy feel shining through. A strange thing happens that almost takes the song down the avenue of a soundtrack album. An unreleased film score to accompany an unreleased film.

So sit back and enjoy a lost release that time and place did not find time to see the light of day. As the opening track testifies and in the immortal words of Mr Tappa Zukie himself.. “Your Musical Daddy is back... Horns Up !!!!”

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Watkins Group returns to Frequency Consortium for its second release, pushing further into the murky depths of dubbed-out desolation. Dubh Dubs (Dark Dubs) takes its name literally—seven tracks of cavernous low-end pressure, submerged echoes, and spectral atmospheres, drawing inspiration from the voids between worlds, the unseen corners of deep space, and the eerie stillness of unknown places.

Where Beanntan a’ Bhròin charted a course through the bleak grandeur of the Highlands, Dubh Dubs plunges headfirst into the abyss, embracing the weight of isolation and the slow decay of time. Watkins Group crafts a sound that feels at once infinite and suffocating—pulsing, restrained, and heavy with the dread of something just beyond reach. Tape-warped textures and submerged percussive mutations unfold in glacial movements, calling to mind the nocturnal dub abstractions of Porter Ricks, the blackened ambience of Thomas Köner, and the sub-heavy spirals of Rhythm & Sound at their most ghostly.

A study in tension and negative space, Dubh Dubs marks another compelling entry in the Frequency Consortium catalog—an offering for those drawn to the darker recesses of sound, where every echo leads deeper into the unknown.

In loving memory of my brother and kindred spirit - Marcus Rafferty

The Bait label headed up by Beatrice M looks to Conzi for a fresh new 12" that builds on the label's superb early momentum. It delves deep into timeless 140 bpm sounds with opener 'AU2' layering up the percussion over fathom-deep beats and aquatic dub pads. It's a heady one for late night rolling and 'Drakar' then brings more bright melodies but similar icy beats and organic perc. An N:in remix of 'AU2' makes things more skittish and kinetic and broken, then and Ambit remix sets down with low-end pressure. These are fresh sounds that bring new direction to classic dubstep.

*press Release From David Katz*

The Hardest Working Reggae Band In Southern England, Dubheart Is On A Mission To Spread Messages Of Peace, Love, Unity And Resistance Through A Heady Stew Of Contemporary Roots Reggae, Delivered On Live Instruments With A Hefty Dose Of Dub In The Mix. Cool Under Pressure, Their Latest Offering, Is The Band's Most Compelling Set To Date, A 'showcase'-style Album Where Every Vocal Track Is Followed By Its Dub Counterpart, And The Vital Contribution Of The Brassica Horns—from Rising London Ska Band Chainska Brassica—is Another Intriguing Element That Makes This Album Tougher Than The Rest.

Drawing On The Foundations Laid By Jamaican Stalwarts Such As Burning Spear, Dennis Brown And Culture, Dub Pioneers Like Scientist And Jah Shaka, Plus Newer Vanguards Such As Tarrus Riley, Grounation And Conscious Sounds, Dubheart Has Crafted A Distinctly Appealing Style That Is Very Much Their Own, Based On The Organic Presentation Of Their Musical Vision. Indeed, This Fully Self-contained Five-piece Is Firmly Engrained In The Neo-roots Movement Of The Present, With A Sound That Faces Ever Forwards.

The South Coast-based Band Was First Formed Back In 1999, And Slowly Built A Following Through Their Intense Live Performances, Which Always Harnessed A Live Dub Element. Their First Ep, the Solid Foundation Rhythm,' Issued On Their Own Karnatone Label In 2011 And Featuring Dub Mixes By Russ D Of The Disciples, Became A Regular Part Of Jah Shaka's Live Playlists. It Was Followed By The 7' 45, we Chant,' Featuring The Band's Charismatic Bristol-based Lead Singer, Tenja (who Originally Hails From France), The Track Becoming An Underground Anthem In Japan (via Rob Smith, Aka Rsd). Dubheart's First Album, Mental Slavery, Was Released In 2013, A Momentous Year That Also Saw The Band Win The European Reggae Contest Staged By Rototom Sunsplash, Leading To A European Tour With Festival Appearances At Summerjam (germany), Reggae Sun Ska (france), Overjam (slovenia), Sudoweste (portugal), United Islands (czech Republic) And The Sardinia Reggae Festival, As Well As Rototom In Spain. Then, In 2015, Karnatone Issued The Dub Companion To Mental Slavery, Mixed Down In A Heavy Dubwise Fashion By Drummer Gavin Sant, Otherwise Known As Fullness, The Band Was Then Invited To Participate In The Bbc Television Show, The Uk's Best Part-time Band, Leading To Their Ep Of Cover Tunes, 2016's full Time Pressure,' Again With Dub Versions From Fullness. part Of The Band's Appeal Lies In Its Tightness As A Recording And Performing Unit, When You See Them Live, You Understand That This Band Of Brothers Is On A Higher Mission, United In Their Wish To Use Music As A Means Of Upliftment. And That Sentiment Is Entirely Evident On Cool Under Pressure. The Melodic Bass Grooves Of Mark Shepherd Act As The Perfect Buffer To The Furious Rolls And Expressive Drum Patterns Of Fullness, David 'daddy U' Mountjoy Adds Scintillating Melodies On Keyboards, Including Some Delightful Wurlitzer Lines, And Richard Ramsey's Guitar Licks Tend Towards The Understated, Aside From The Occasional Solo Pyrotechnics, As Heard Here On rocky Road.' And On Songs Like can't Wait,' watcha Gonna Do' And The Title Track, The Brassica Horns Add Further Melodic Depth Through Fanfares Of Treble Brass Texture. with The Rhythms Laid Entirely Through Live Recording Sessions Cut At Fullness' Home Studio In Bournemouth (with Horn And Wurlitzer Overdubs Done Elsewhere), Cool Under Pressure Reveals Dubheart As A Band On The Rise, Heading For Unstoppable Heights.

The Dub Deconstructions On The Disc Allow The Listener To Hear The Exceptional Quality Of Their Playing, Emphasizing Each Member's Individual Talent, While The Lyrics Tackle Subjects We Can All Relate To, With watcha Gonna Do' Addressing Social Inequalities, can't Wait' Alluding To The Refugee Crisis, rocky Road' Imploring Everyone To Hold Strong In Trying Times, And rise Up' Calling For Direct Action Against The Unjust System That Rules Our Lands. Overall, The Outstanding Title Track cool Under Pressure' Really Sums Up The Band's Ethos: The System May Burden Us With The Stresses Of Censure And Control, But Our Obligation Is To Stay True To Ourselves And Resist. And The Music Can Help Us To Achieve This.

"I decided to just let myself go," Zzzahara says of their new record, 'Spiral Your Way Out' "I think I finally came to this acceptance that I don't have to be perfect. I want to be a good role model to my fans and stuff like that, but I also don't want to hide who I am." Zzzahara's music wades into the deep waters of love, lust, and self-discovery in a part of the world where artifice and authenticity co-exist. Emerging from the heart of LA's alternative music scene, their sound is raw in feeling and rebellious by nature.

Their 2022 debut album, Liminal Spaces, chronicles a coming- of- age in Highland Park, following painful childhood memories through to late- night, live- fast coping mechanisms, and the changes the neighbourhood has endured over the same period of time. Their 2023 follow- up, Tender, marked a period of slowing down, looking inward, and embracing a softer side of being. 'Spiral Your Way Out' sees Zzzahara evolve again. Emotionally, its foundations are built on scorched earth.

The album finds Zzzahara in the aftermath of a relationship spent trying to fit someone else's mould, being jerked around by indecision, and then hitting "emotional rock bottom." Made in a three-month burst that let all their pent-up frustrations loose, 'Spiral Your Way Out' is in part a work of self-reclamation, swapping there 2nd album Tender's meditative state for something fiery and more assertive. The new album marks another sonic evolution as much as an emotional one. Zzzahara's songs have always come wrapped in a warm glow that reflects how they were written -namely at home in their bedroom.

That glow remains on 'Spiral Your Way Out', but it also packs an ambitious streak and a gutsy punch. Taking a more collaborative approach than usual, Zzzahara worked with a range of producers including Jorge Elbrecht (Japanese Breakfast, No Joy, Sky Ferreira), Sarah Tudzin (boygenius / Cloud Nothings / The Armed), former Ducktails guitarist Alex Craig (Jelani Aryeh / re6ce) and Halsey tour drummer Franco Reid, who helped harness their intimate style of writing and blow it up into something more panoptic. After a year of upheaval, Zzzahara finally feels "calm." The musical equivalent to going several rounds on a punching bag, 'Spiral Your Way Out' finds solace between extremes. It licks its wounds in a place where pain and love, healing and abandon, sit side-by-side. If it has a message, it's one of standing tall in your own shoes - scuffs and all.

"I decided to just let myself go," Zzzahara says of their new record, 'Spiral Your Way Out' "I think I finally came to this acceptance that I don't have to be perfect. I want to be a good role model to my fans and stuff like that, but I also don't want to hide who I am." Zzzahara's music wades into the deep waters of love, lust, and self-discovery in a part of the world where artifice and authenticity co-exist. Emerging from the heart of LA's alternative music scene, their sound is raw in feeling and rebellious by nature.

Their 2022 debut album, Liminal Spaces, chronicles a coming- of- age in Highland Park, following painful childhood memories through to late- night, live- fast coping mechanisms, and the changes the neighbourhood has endured over the same period of time. Their 2023 follow- up, Tender, marked a period of slowing down, looking inward, and embracing a softer side of being. 'Spiral Your Way Out' sees Zzzahara evolve again. Emotionally, its foundations are built on scorched earth.

The album finds Zzzahara in the aftermath of a relationship spent trying to fit someone else's mould, being jerked around by indecision, and then hitting "emotional rock bottom." Made in a three-month burst that let all their pent-up frustrations loose, 'Spiral Your Way Out' is in part a work of self-reclamation, swapping there 2nd album Tender's meditative state for something fiery and more assertive. The new album marks another sonic evolution as much as an emotional one. Zzzahara's songs have always come wrapped in a warm glow that reflects how they were written -namely at home in their bedroom.

That glow remains on 'Spiral Your Way Out', but it also packs an ambitious streak and a gutsy punch. Taking a more collaborative approach than usual, Zzzahara worked with a range of producers including Jorge Elbrecht (Japanese Breakfast, No Joy, Sky Ferreira), Sarah Tudzin (boygenius / Cloud Nothings / The Armed), former Ducktails guitarist Alex Craig (Jelani Aryeh / re6ce) and Halsey tour drummer Franco Reid, who helped harness their intimate style of writing and blow it up into something more panoptic. After a year of upheaval, Zzzahara finally feels "calm." The musical equivalent to going several rounds on a punching bag, 'Spiral Your Way Out' finds solace between extremes. It licks its wounds in a place where pain and love, healing and abandon, sit side-by-side. If it has a message, it's one of standing tall in your own shoes - scuffs and all.

The War On Drugs, "one of the premier live bands of their generation" (Pitchfork), announce Live Drugs Again, via Super High Quality Records and Transgressive / Canvasback. In support of Live Drugs Again, the band will kick off their Zen Diagram North American co-headline tour with The National, with support from Lucius, on September 12th. Recorded on tour between February 2022 through December 2023 in America, UK, Europe and Australia, Live Drugs Again follows 2020's Live Drugs and represents The War On Drugs at their ragged, righteous best. Bandleader Adam Granduciel comments, "Live Drugs Again chronicles the evolution of these songs from the studio to stages all over the world; documenting our continued growth as a live band. This series ensures that these versions, and some of our favorite moments on stage, will live on." As Consequence so accurately hailed, "it's hard to imagine a musical experience that's more enveloping and uplifting." This is hearing a band at its peak.

Building on the promise of his standout Vacuum EP, Brendon Moeller returns to Samurai Music to dial his expert dub techno up to 170 for a full-length trip. Moeller is celebrated as a versatile operator applying cavernous sound design and decades-deep machine soul to a broad sweep of tempos and styles, and his pivot to D&B territory is as natural as it is original. It's a perfect fit on Samurai, where palettes, pressure and rhythms are continually yielding fresh results in this highly fertile zone of modern club music.

It's no secret Moeller is a prolific producer, and following his initial connection with Samurai he offered up a vast folder of tracks created in this latest furrow of his production. The label has since sifted through and puzzled out a sonic narrative, first realised on the Vacuum EP in June 2024 and now extended with Further. For anyone keyed into the deep, techno-informed innovations taking place at 170, there is a logical connection to Moeller's take on the sound, but at the same time these tracks stand apart from anything else out there right now. In the particular textures, the unfolding arrangements and monolithic reverbs Moeller threads together with hypnotic poise, his accomplished legacy shines through.

Whether it's the snarl of a delay feedback pushed a little further, a soaring synth swell sculpted into artful noise or a particular shuffle applied to a particular drum rack, Moeller's tracks unfold with a masterful poise, hitting the sweet spot between club-spirited physicality for the deepest of dance floors and introspective headphone trips. Teeming with detail, swathed in soul and engineered to perfection, the inspiration driving Moeller is palpable across the LP, and it's resulted in some of his finest work in a career studded with highlights.

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Sasha & Super Flu join forces for electrifying new single, ‘Astra’. Last Night on Earth label head Sasha is proving to be as innovative as ever in the studio of late. The globally renowned producer and game-changing DJ continues exploring rich new musical ground while retaining his signature sense of melody, drama, and energy. He has also made his label an outlet renowned for its quality output and backs that up here with a new collaboration alongside Feliks Thielemann & Mathias Schwarz, better known as Super Flu.

The German pair has a sound that knows no bounds and breaks all rules. They tinker with music-making gear, draw from diverse musical influences and are underground mainstays with an enviable discography on numerous key labels.

The electrifying 'Astra' is awash with smart effects and filters that smudge and stretch a vocal over rising synth tension. The heavy drums jostle for your attention as the chord vamps twist and turn, ramping up the pressure as they go and building towards a dramatic breakdown. It locks you in the moment before setting off again on more tightly woven drums and synths. The Sasha Daydream Mix is a more blissed-out and late-night rework with shakers, floating drums and deft synth lines drifting about up top to soothing and atmospheric effect.

A next salvo of big people dubwise out of the ITAL COUNSELOR stable comes on this, the label’s first foray into the 7” format.

This relick of the legendary Black Brothers 1970s dub plate is perfectly crafted for dropping at the deepest of sound system sessions or right on your home hi-fi for some front room skanking. This is in no small part due to the pedigree of artists who contributed to its creation.

Hughie Izachaar first started in the reggae business as part of obscure UK band, Black Brothers, during the heady days of the late 70s and early 80s. Only known to have recorded two legendary dub plates, the band never committed their music to plastic. A multi-instrumentalist versed in the art of playing the melodica and guitar as well as singing, Izachaar went on to join the band, The Original Rockers, with whom he recorded the underground classic, “Mountain Rock.” Into the 90s and through the 2000s he has been heard across a number of 7”, 10”s, 12”s, and LPs on labels such as Reggae on Top, Jah Warrior, Inner Sanctuary, and King Earthquake.

On this release, he is reunited with the equally esteemed Jah Warrior who was responsible for Hughie’s high water mark showcase, “Can’t Take the Pressure” in 1998. Jah Warrior’s usual hard and strident steppers vibrations are in attendance here.

Uniquely, this 7” represents the first time Hughie and Jah Warrior have been combined with the third ingredient in this musical stew. Another long-time music industry journey man, Gil “Tuff Scout” Cang, augments the sound with additional production and remixing. A veteran of Studio One, Riz Records, and Tuff Scout, not to mention innumerable soul, acid jazz, and pop productions, Gil adds that “little way different” touch that has become a defining character of ITAL COUNSELOR productions.

As the saying goes: If you don’t know, get to know. Neither your ears, your skanking feet, or your soul will be disappointed!

Caroline Says' haunting new album, The Lucky One, is a poignant exploration of how the ghosts of past relationships linger, sometimes holding more sway over our hearts and minds than our current connections. We revisit these ghosts through evocative landscapes of our memories - hometown bars, road trips, and late-night swims. Through a series of fractured and persistent memories these songs capture the bittersweet realization that the past, though imperfect, can sometimes be a more comforting and meaningful companion than the present. Opening track, "The Lucky One," confronts death's role in shaping our memories head-on, as it ponders the way death freezes a person in time, forcing us to confront the complexities of grief and its lasting impact on our relationship with the one we lost. Other tracks delve into the complexities of relationships that naturally grow apart as life takes us in different directions. For example, "Faded and Golden" reflects on the bittersweet nature of reunions with old friends, where the idealized memories of youth can clash with the realities of the present. Then, "Actors" takes this a step further, acknowledging the influence of perception and desire in friendships, and the idea that in many ways "all friendships are imaginary friendships," as it confronts the disappointment of inauthentic connections, and the facades we sometimes put on in relationships. "Roses" began when Caroline was looking through her grandma's collection of commemorative Kentucky Derby glasses, each one etched with the name of a winner. The song delves into the story of "Sunday Silence," the horse that won the year Caroline was born. Researching the horse's journey from near-Triple Crown glory to retirement in Japan sparked a metaphor - a pressured being (the horse) desperately trying to please but ultimately disappointing. The owners eventually selling the horse becomes a relatable symbol of unmet expectations, and the sting of falling short despite our best efforts. Album closer, "Something Good," revisits Caroline's Alabama childhood. Lost on a recent trip to Birmingham, unable to find the familiar path to a riverside hangout, the experience becomes a powerful metaphor; we can't always retrace the paths in our memories, but those memories, however unreliable, continue to shape us. In the end, The Lucky One celebrates this enduring power, acknowledging how past relationships and experiences, even those lost to the haze of time, continue to inform the stories we tell ourselves, and the way we navigate the present.

A new chapter in the Spazio Disponibile story. Since 2016, Donato Dozzy and Neel released a wide range of their favorite electronics on their collaborative imprint. From here they inaugurate a new side branch named Spazio Nero, focussing on heady dancefloor techno only. First edition comes from Neel himself, his Movimente EP sets the tone for what to expect. Four cuts of flawless techno pressure for the late nights.