Suche:sneaker

The Activist returns to Sneaker Social Club with a fresh double-drop of mutant grime futurism featuring deadly flows from Tia Talks and Jammz.

Low End Activist first came through centred on link-ups with grime MCs before widening the scope of his sound with purely instrumental, conceptually-charged albums. This sure-shot double single reaffirms his affinity for outsider grime production as a vessel for deft bars from breakthrough talent and seasoned mic veterans alike.

On 'False Idols' and 'Atomic Clock' there's an emphasis on sharply angled, glitchy production that bends and warps well outside the established formula of MC-focused beats. Constantly shifting, hyper-detailed and front-loaded with walloping slabs of bass, both cuts are devastating in either vocal or instrumental form. Tia Talks pulls no punches stating her truth on the former, while Jammz muses on the endless battle against time on the latter, continuing the peerless run of avant-grime that courses through the Activist's back catalogue.

We're happy to welcome Kepler to our exclusive roster with his new label Contact.

Kicking off with a big double header from the man himself. Hype It Up / Sneaker have been heavily road tested over the summer festival circuit, both getting massive reactions worldwide.

The latest wayward soundsystem sonics on the Social come from Wroclaw in Poland courtesy of dadan karambolo. As part of the strictly legit SPLOT crew karambolo is spearheading a vibrant community of bassweight freaks digesting all the best misfit club music from the cracks between — a hint of dubstep, a twist of techno and plenty of advanced sound design, all poured into a thoroughly modern, richly realised brew.

Having previously snuck tunes out on SPLOT’s in-house label and the respected Awkwardly Social crew out of Berlin, karambolo delivers an extended statement with his Sneaker Special Club debut. Subtle pressure is the order of the day as he zeroes in on evocative soundscaping and a subdued mood, all while piling on ample low end intensity and edging some sharp angles out of the meditative roll. Even when minuscule slithers of amen breaks sneak into ‘Awkward Expression’, the ambience remains somewhere between dream and dread while ‘Huskarl’ scatters industrial jackhammers across a vast tundra of drone.

‘Done For’ steps forward a touch more forthright with its grime-coded bass spasms, deploying the kind of bludgeoning physicality and ruthless reduction you might associate with fellow Sneaker alumni, Mars89. ‘Burbot’ also switches the script for a cheeky B3 that toys with 80s electro chopped into a snappy breakbeat and underpinned with a sticky synth line. Sidestepping direct dancefloor routes in search of different ways to achieve movement in the club, karambolo has more than matched the over-arching Sneaker ideal with an assured, original transmission from the outer limits of the soundsystem.

Just when you thought every holy grail must have been unearthed by now, here come Basic Unit with their deep cover late 90s masterpiece Timeline, the dankest darkcore-electronica-tech step album you've likely never heard.

Ben England and Rick Dallaway formed Basic Unit and debuted on Moving Shadow in 1997. They also moved on Nocturnal, a cult label that reached beyond D&B to platform some more experimental sounds. It was a short-lived label with some ominous footnotes — 'Several people involved with Nocturnal have vanished or are dead' reads the label's Discogs description. But in 1998 Nocturnal put out Timeline, a CD-only album from Basic Unit that cut a sharp, scathing figure against most D&B of the era. England and Dallaway embraced the album format as a chance to go deep, inhaling their inspiration from early days Autechre as much as Source Direct and boiling down the results to a steely, minimalist framework.

The likes of 'Resolution' are desolate, stark workouts that feel fractured and raw enough to align with early grime, complete with the strings, but the rhythms move in mysterious formations designed to confound like the most bloody minded electronica artists of the late 90s. Blown out bass and scattered flurries of machine gun breaks, squashed tundra drones that sound like they were pulled from 10th generation VHS b-movies and bit-crushed animal grunts fit for a Mega Drive beat 'em up. The sonics are redolent of the times, but Basic Unit chisel them mercilessly into their spartan vision, deploying brain-frying beat science with a stern restraint.

It's the kind of record that gives so much while holding so much back — a deadly tease that has flown under the radar for too long. This is the sort of shock reissue material that gets us gassed at Sneaker, and we're proud to be giving it a re-boost and a first ever outing on wax, all the better to shock you out.

Still sniffing out the gnarliest bassweight swerves on his rounds in the underground, Dogpatrol makes his way back to Sneaker Social Club for another four cuts of irreverent, misfit rave damage.

Hailing from Offenbach (DE) but with a sound more indebted to UK styles like breakbeat hardcore, dubstep and garage, DogPatrol has been a natural fit on Sneaker. The slanted approach he takes to his influences results in a mutant style that shuffles and slams in all the right places without sounding like anything else out there.

‘1200kcal’ rides jagged, dusty drums that come on like drunken UKG, offset by rubbery bass arps that add a cosmic lick to proceedings. ‘Baby Flame’ has a nastier outlook hinging on a bludgeoning synth splat that calls back to the Control Tower brand of warehouse electro from the early 00s. Making sure no-one is second guessing the scent Dogpatrol is tracking, ‘Ya Playin Yaself’ dips into a dubstep-minded half-step roller with naive keys run through a giddy signal chain. ‘Offgenbach HBF Riddim’ completes the set with a breakbeat cut n’ paste job which tracks back to the source with strong echoes of The Blapps Posse’s raw and funky approach.

The reference points are just slight hints of familiarity, but Dogpatrol comes across as inspired as ever digging up the bones of cult rave signifiers and chewing them into his own unique shapes.

True Sneaker Social die-hard Etch returns with a monumental new album. Scream of the Butterfly shows the depth and breadth of one of the illest producers operating across the many spheres of club music with a distinct “you ‘kay?” slant.

From the moment the low-end pressure and loaded samples rear their heads on the opening track, Zak Brashill demonstrates his intent to sculpt Scream Of The Butterfly as a proper album — an end-to-end listening experience full of peaks and troughs which focus on sonic storytelling much more than club functionality. Throughout his imperious output to date, the man like Etch has displayed an affinity for sound design to match his instinct for what bangs on the spectrum of dubstep, garage, jungle and hip-hop, but now he’s gone postal on soundworld-building, with a grip of heavyweights drafted in to help set the scene.

Fellow Sneaker alumnus J-Shadow lends his maverick footwork science to ‘Star Fallen’, while UK rap anti-royalty Lee Scott brings his unmistakable Runcorn drawl to dusky head-nodder ‘Not Surprised’. UK bass-synth-ambient enigma E.M.M.A drops in for the moody, meandering midpoint ‘Stepford Lives’, and Killa P and Emz deliver blazing bars to the double dose of ‘Prayer Wheel (Left You Fi Dead)’ and ‘Heat Map’ respectively.

Elsewhere Brashill follows his own razor-sharp instincts into warping stop-start drum science, widescreen downtempo with teeth, seasick synth studies, moody-but-cosy 140 and lots more besides. Nothing comes as standard, but Scream of the Butterfly is ruff when it wants to be, subtle and spacious if the vibe demands it, and consistently packed full of the detail and intrigue that we’ve come to expect from one of the most inventive and reliably sick producers in the contemporary bassweight firmament.

The dark lord of the dance returns to Sneaker with the 'No Favours' EP, another ominous set of non-conformist shellers rough-cut from obsidian and set in steel.

We first broadcast our love of Christoph de Babalon's distinctively destructive, hard-boiled hardcore via the Evident Ware compilation back in 2020, but a longer release has been an ambition of ours ever since. From his early years on Digital Hardcore through his prolific return in the 2010s across a broad tapestry of underground operators, de Babalon has left a fascinating trail of albums, EPs and scattershot tracks behind him that feed into the cult fervour around his music.

As this EP demonstrates in reliably gritty fashion, the magic in the German producer's music lies in his ability to take the tropes of jungle and hardcore and subvert them through signal chains which owe more to noise and industrial than dance music. The structure of his tracks is equally maverick, pushing and pulling according to its own whims rather than following the dancer-centric energetic flow of a standard club record. Somewhere in this alchemy between classic ingredients and confrontational experimentation, he evokes the original chaotic spirit of hardcore when it seemed anything was possible within the music.

'For Nothing' is the perfect example — a tunnelling odyssey of ferrous atmospheres, roundhouse drums and bass bloated into the red on a force-fed diet of saturation. 'Total Deceit' turns up the pressure on the break chopping science de Babalon is capable of, teasing gamelan flurries and elegiac swirls that hit at the emotional depth he can wrench amidst such bludgeoning material. 'Jaded Memory' funnels Mentasm bass into a strange new form amidst staggering, tightly clipped drumfunk, leaving enough space for haunting ballroom reveries stretching out across the mid-section. That leaves it to 'Dearth Mill' to mop up with gloriously creepy detuned piano notes slopping over each other in between the most ferocious blasts of drums on the whole record.

You didn't expect something straight-forward, did you?

On his latest full-length, Low End Activist swerves towards weightless grime and suspended hardcore miniatures to tell a very personal story. The UK-rooted producer continues his habit of zeroing in on a distinct approach for each release, leaving a logical breadcrumb trail of soundsystem science in his wake as he channels decades of bass absorption into 14 atmospheric cuts that prize patience and precision over obvious club functionality.

Municipal Dreams plays out as a semi-autobiographical tour through the Blackbird Leys estate that the Activist grew up on. It’s a lived reflection on inequality and the ripple effect it has in working class communities, using the sonic palette to set the mood and scattering pointed samples throughout to spell out the story.

In sampling the exhaust of a stolen Subaru Impreza, ‘TWOC’ looks back to the recreational car theft which was standard entertainment for the kids in his community. There’s an underlying idea that this ‘council estate sport’ wouldn’t have been so prevalent if there were public services and opportunities presented to the scores of disaffected youth looking for somewhere to direct their energy and frustration.

In ‘Just A Number (Institutionalised)’ LEA alludes to the shattered juvenile detention system, growing up seeing friends and family members locked up at ease with little to no support on being released back into society, just meant that the same cycles of behaviour would play out over and over.

‘Violence’ samples from a short film shot by the drama division of the Blackbird Leys Youth Club to evoke the physical threat which formed a background hum to life on the estate. The industrial mechanics of the local car factory, which served an integral role as a workplace for many in the community, gets sampled in ‘They Only Come Out At Night’ while the ‘Everyone I look up to are either junkies or criminals’ sample in ‘Broke’ looks to a lack of positive role models.

Municipal Dreams isn’t a one-note indictment of life on the estate, ‘Innocence’ captures the simplicity of a child at birth before their environment has time to shape them. The Hope interludes cut through the grim honesty of the longer tracks while a subtle thread of wry humour finds its way into some of the talking heads cutting through the signature LEA murk.

But honesty is the operative word here, and the message feels all the more meaningful at a time when the UK’s social divisions are laid bare in the wake of a devastating stretch of austerity. Returning to Blackbird Leys to shoot images for the photo-zine and album cover, the Activist found the local community centre being demolished. The local pub stands derelict, its faded Welcome sign a grimly ironic portent of the options facing children of the estate in the wider world.

Funnelling his memories, hopes and fears into a singular twist on the bass weight tradition, LEA captures evocative scenes that land somewhere between kitchen sink realism and rave futurism.

Bringing stark dread bass vibes like no one before or since, Mars89 makes a welcome return to Sneaker Social Club with another four-track script flipper.

Since he first surged onto the radar with some incisive moves on Bokeh Versions back in 2017, Masayoshi Anotani has deployed a raw, non-conformist kind of bass music that's minimal in spirit but packing incredible weight where it counts. It draws parallels with weightless grime, but swap the woozy square wave synths out for fierce industrial textures and dystopian bleeps, and maybe you're halfway there.

Following on from 2022's Night Call and a collab LP with Seekersinternational on his own Nocturnal Technology, Mars89 is back with an EP which takes on new sonic dimensions without losing the persistent moodiness that makes his shadowy sonics so compelling.

'No Control' feels the most in line with the earlier Mars89 work, creating a back and forth between an upfront grime-y synth lick and blown out bass notes. The space around the notes is as vital as everything being played, creating a tension that doesn't let up no matter how much the brittle percussion rattles.

'Sonar Breaks' feels distinct as it drags a sticky drum loop through the dirt until it comes out positively caked. That leaves plenty of room for the bleeps up top to cut through the mix with devastating clarity, and Mars89 needs nothing else to make a taut piece of soundsystem Semtex.

'Hydra' continues to draw influence from jungle while taking a sideways approach to breakbeat edits, finding a curious groove in angular drum science before a stark arpeggio locks the track down. It's another hint at the different tools being reached for on this EP, brought into the Mars89 methodology and bent to his particular will.

'Still Dreaming' closes the EP out with an evocative sample from a sci-fi blockbuster and a spiralling sound bed of synth lines and break shards. While the track lands softer than its predecessors, the dense mix whips up a claustrophobic allure comfortably aligned with the overall intensity of the record — an intensity which is wholly unique to Mars89 and his maverick manoeuvres in the field of contemporary bass music.

2024 Repress

After 7 years and countless requests, Sneaker Social Club finally deliver a repress of Dream Cycle - Part One.

After a chance meeting at Gottwood in 2016 a bond was established between Dream Cycle (Robin Clarke) and label owner Jamie Russell over a shared love of 2 Bad Mice and Moving Shadow. It wasn't long before Clarke began channeling elements of that influence to produce his Dream Cycle Part.1 EP. Unfolding over 4 steppy tracks and an ambient closer, Clarke melds sharp snares, summery motifs, dense atmospheres and thick subs whilst keeping things suffused with a distinctly UK quality that marries his work perfectly with the Sneaker catalogue.

DJ Support: Ryan Elliott, DJ Die, The Blessed Madonna, Octo Octa, Bwana, Altered Natives, Noodles (Groove Chronicles), Liem (Lehult), Deejay Astral, LA4A, 2 Bad Mice, Fred P, Matt Karmil, Flori, Marco Zenker, J.Rocc (lol at comment!), Ajukaja, Gnork, William Djoko, Till Von Sein, Fold, ASOK, Gene Farris, DJ bwin, Seven Davis Jr, TRP, DJ Octopus, DJ Normal 4, Gerd, Dean Man s Chest, Poté, Doc Scott, Violet, James Welsh (Kamera), Konx-om-Pax, Etch, Raresh, Hrdvsion, Michael Serafini (Gramaphone), Frazer Ray, DJ Guy, Mak & Pasteman, Shenoda, Urulu, Mark Archer & James Zabiela, Zinc, Lehult, Jackie House, Mosca, Noodles (Groove Chronicles) & DJ Die.

Having been re-discovered as a groundbreaking slice of proto-grime from 1994, Dylan Beale’s legendary soundtrack for the SNES game Wolverine: Adamantium Rage finally gets the reissue treatment it deserves via Sneaker Social Club.

When the game came out in 1994, Beale’s soundtrack for the SNES edition stood out from the pack for its gritty beats, deceptively weighty low end and edgy orchestra stabs, but few would have guessed how certain tracks would predict the shape of music to come. Around 2016, the ‘Tri-fusion’ track in particular was picked up on by London-based producer Sir Pixalot as a mind-blowing slice of Eski beat coldness. To prove his point, Pixalot ran an acapella from J-Wing over the track and the results spoke for themselves.

While ‘Tri-Fusion’ is a straight-up accidental grime sheller, there’s scores more heat packed away in Beale’s soundtrack for Adamantium Rage. The limitations of the space on the game cart meant Beale had to get creative with the most limited samples. Fortunately his background producing UK hardcore and jungle in Rude & Deadly and Stuck To Your Lips meant he knew his way around the restrictions of an Akai s950. Fuelled by the inspiration of jungle and West Coast rap, he worked on the game soundtrack with a similar spartan attitude, limited to 200kb with which to load up the music engine for the game, samples and all.

Given the importance of minimalism in the effectiveness of soundsystem music, it’s not surprising tracks like ‘Cyber’ and ‘Dark Queen’ pack a punch which could absolutely set a dance off. Watch out for ‘Weapon X Lab’ too - another stand out bomb creating a deadly machine funk out of the tightly clipped bass samples and weird animal groan loops. Alongside the full, original soundtrack, this first issue of Wolverine: Adamantium Rage OST comes with additional tracks never used in the original game which widen out the styles Beale was exploring within the shockingly limited means at his disposal.

“I vividly remember when we first played the soundtrack on a bigger set of speakers to the boss,” Beale recalls, “his initial reaction was one of amazement that we had created something so ‘real’and different in comparison to everything else out there in terms of video game music, which I remember with great pride and fondness. Comparing to everything out there, it was totally unique- a moment in time.”

Eight years after Cuthead's "Give'n'Take", it's Sneaker's turn to put together four of his favorite tracks for Uncanny Valley's compilation series. The artwork is once again by Planetluke com aka Luca Lozano. "This record is a vista of my world where music inhabits the air between people. As an exchange of genius, emotions, gestures - even conventions, rituals, and love. Dedicated to L.B. BaD, whose music I inhaled and whose records inspired me on my quest for deepness. You will be missed!" (Sneaker) Besides L.B. BaD's wonderful "Late In The Evening (Music's Seeping Thru)" you'll get three absolute bangers on top. The Optimistic Misanthropes are Mystic Bill, VeXaTioN and Sneaker himself. One of the most influential Chicago House DJs, true to the underground for over three decades now, and once part of the Trax Records roster... Mystic Bill. VeXaTioN already got to know him back in the days but is currently hailing from Mexico City. His track was born in Los Angeles and remixed by Sneaker in Berlin. Also, Left Unknown's "Maedchen" got the jacking Midas touch from Sneaker, a touch you've come to recognize. Behind the one-off project is Saxonian Gnista aka DJ Detox and somebody who wants to remain incognito. Jacob Korn however is well-known since the early days of Uncanny Valley and is above all Sneaker's best buddy at TailOut Studio, Dresden.

"Eski style Hardcore reductions, served up from the rave archivist Filter Dread."

DJ Support
Tessela (Overmono), Hodge, Pinch, Laksa, Cosmin TRG, Mr. Mitch, DJ Haram, Jossy Mitsu, Murlo, Solid Blake, Etch, Metrist, J-Shadow, Minimalviolence, Ciel, Photonz +more

Music never exists in a vacuum — every scene and sound evolves from the non-stop exchange of ideas between different groups and cultures. Traditions get passed down from one generation to the next, and then individual heads take influence from their own unique perspective. Sometimes, certain people strike upon fusions that spark massive new movements, but even those rarest innovations came from somewhere.

Jon E Cash knows this more than most — the legendary beats he started putting out at the turn of the millennium had their own disparate roots and influences which he had the motivation to put together into a sound he called sublow. There wasn't any other reference point for this music — when he took the first white labels of 'Drop Top Bimmer Kid' into Blackmarket Records in Soho, London, he had to describe it to a puzzled Nicky Blackmarket and J Da Flex as being, "between garage and hip-hop."

Playing catch-up in 2004, Rephlex Records nodded to sublow when trying to introduce a wider audience to the sounds which had been tearing up the London underground. "Grime. Sublow. Dubstep... It's Music. Different people call it different things depending on when they discovered it." But Jon E Cash's sound was rooted in more than the UK garage that had dominated the clubs through the late 90s, reaching way back to his pre-teen days when the first waves of hip-hop culture crossed the Atlantic and broke in the UK.

25 years on, it's a fine time to reflect on the impact of the music Cash made at the turn of the millennium. History looks back favourably on what he and the Black Ops crew were doing with sublow in the early 00s. The timing meant it ran in parallel with what was happening over East with Pay As U Go, Roll Deep et al, and of course there was crossover. Every DJ and every MC was on the hunt for the best beats they could find. But there's a whole different swagger to sublow — a different web of influences, a different intention and so a different outcome. It's still there in the beats Cash is making more than 20 years later — his 3dom Music label is carrying upfront productions with that sublow DNA coursing through their veins. Whatever the beat or the tempo, the drums are still hard as nails, and the bass is tuned for maximum rave damage.

Sneaker Social Club is pleased to direct your attention to this sparse and weighty club gear incoming from a sizeable new talent on the scene, Beton Brut.

Following on from his previous drops on Plasma Sources and Coyote Records, Beton Brut steps onto this latest platter with a surefooted sound. It’s informed by weightless grime, minimal techno and brittle electro, but he carves his own incisive path towards the hoods-up-heads-down Dancefloor.

This is stark, moody gear to get lost in — the dexterous sound design slipping around the rhythm core of ‘Tobacco Earthworm’; gleams in high-definition, but never at the expense of the eerily stripped-back atmosphere. ‘Booters’ snips up a clutch of clippings from grime and scatters them across the timeline in a scrapbook style, making a deadly, dislocated love letter to the sound in the process. Approaching mutant, hybrid club music with a considered poise, this is exactly the kind of forward-thinking bassweight gear that Sneaker thrives on.

With a clutch of EPs under his belt spanning a wealth of pallets, Henzo narrows the focus on his debut studio album “The Poems We Write For Ourselves” - a culmination of persistent iterations over several years, distilling his sonic milieu into something that feels decidedly his own. The album proper is coupled with a debut live performance which reinterprets the tracks and splices them with omitted material from the time of writing - recorded in full in the intimate confines of Manchester’s growingly infamous Stage and Radio basement. Honing his craft in the shadows of Lancashire, Poems is an expansive reflection of the producer’s time spent away committing to the scope of an LP.

A thread of stratified sound design weaves throughout the record, but with a discerning dancefloor proclivity mostly prevalent. Cold opener “Noggin” riffs on noughties Raster-Noton a la Byetone rebuilt with fractal tear out DnB, with closer “Indulgence” following suit on a puckered plod of Dub Techno ambience. More club-focussed moments come in the form of “Rustica Slump” and “Blue Will...”, the former’s sickly sweet vocals resolved by the latter’s stoic UKG/Techno rudeness. “A Bouquet of Clumsy Words” channels mechanical shuffle with a stripped back 2/4 pulse whilst maintaining a firmly FWD>>energy alongside “Plant Your Roots In Me” on a similar vector - swapping out a straight kick pattern for a bludgeoning 808 assault on an early Hessle-indebted tip.

“Take Stock, Touch Grass” harks to golden era ClekClekBoom and Night Slugs with a bare bones kick and vocal motif, updating the formula with a tweaking lead line that places it firmly in the contemporary space. “Swell:Shrink” sings from the same sheet with a shrieking, space age wobble doing the heavy lifting, knocking the pace back to a shoulder-lean swagger on a slow fast conundrum Henzo has shown his flair for on previous releases.

The outliers to Henzo’s more known approach, “Worm Grunting” with Belfast’s Emby, an amalgamation of halfest time DnB and illest mannered Road Rap, plus “The Rest Is The Mess You Leave”, a starkly anti-retro Ghettotek endeavour, give grounds to the LP. Clearly rooted in the comfortable universe of the dancefloor, these tracks expand the producer’s realm into loftier heights as he graduates into long play land.

Sneaker Social Club welcome a veritable supergroup of bass heavyweights in the form of Legion. Made up of Trends, Boylan, P Jam and D.O.K., this four strong collective first came to light with the We Are Many 12" on Artikal Music in 2021, and now they regroup for another four-strong payload of soundsystem pressure that embraces the darkness in devastating fashion.

The Sister Abigail EP leads with 'Rastaman', an ice-cold half-step drop that summons the spirit of early dubstep in its raw minimalism, eerie atmospherics and snarling low-end wobble. Without an ounce of fat, it's a lean workout of drums and bass that finds catharsis in simplicity without compromising on high definition detail. 'Souls' locks into a jerky groove to set the dance off at acute angles, nudging the textures up a notch without disturbing the spartan mood of the release. 'Sister Abigail' pushes the underlying malevolence of the Legion sound to the forefront with dissonant sheet-metal tones while packing the rhythm section into a tight, vicious formation of gnashing, chrome-plated teeth. 'Play That Vibe' seals the deal on the EP with a hard-thumping, propulsive groove that calls to mind the techy development of dubstep in the 2010s — a taut, tracky throwdown to keep the intensity on a rolling boil.

Drawing on the grounding principles of OG dubstep with a sharp line in crisp, modernist production and a ruthless economy of arrangement on display, Legion prove many cooks can still result in a potent, brutally focused broth.

Ploughing lesser-used breaks and finding finesse in the ruffest and tuffest rave emissions, Jason Warlock is back with more of that untouchable clout he rolls out as Hooverian Blur. Team Sneaker have been proud to platform the project plenty in the past, and so it goes on this latest four-strong salvo of blunted samples and head-threading synth hooks.

In terms of pace and sheer sonic breadth Hooverian Blur aligns with the embryonic days of hardcore, before breakbeat dogma had set in. Rather than opting for tear-out intensity, the likes of 'Hypnotizer' and 'Wacky Robot' roll with a lean-on that feels like the sweet spot between rave and rap. It's trippy, ready to take a left turn and tweak your nervous system with a plethora of zaps and pings, and it's got more than enough bassweight and mid-range snap to get bodies twisting, but edgy hysteria has been replaced by a cool and deadly demeanour which makes these joints all the more addictive.

'Project One' still slaps with a crafty one-two between rolling drum licks and machine-powered thrust, and 'Double Depths' digs deep down in the crusty edits, but yet again Warlock demonstrates an assured poise in his Hooverian Blur guise which can only come from serious skin in the game.

On his latest full-length, Low End Activist swerves towards weightless grime and suspended hardcore miniatures to tell a very personal story. The UK-rooted producer continues his habit of zeroing in on a distinct approach for each release, leaving a logical breadcrumb trail of soundsystem science in his wake as he channels decades of bass absorption into 14 atmospheric cuts that prize patience and precision over obvious club functionality.

Municipal Dreams plays out as a semi-autobiographical tour through the Blackbird Leys estate that the Activist grew up on. It’s a lived reflection on inequality and the ripple effect it has in working class communities, using the sonic palette to set the mood and scattering pointed samples throughout to spell out the story.

In sampling the exhaust of a stolen Subaru Impreza, ‘TWOC’ looks back to the recreational car theft which was standard entertainment for the kids in his community. There’s an underlying idea that this ‘council estate sport’ wouldn’t have been so prevalent if there were public services and opportunities presented to the scores of disaffected youth looking for somewhere to direct their energy and frustration.

In ‘Just A Number (Institutionalised)’ LEA alludes to the shattered juvenile detention system, growing up seeing friends and family members locked up at ease with little to no support on being released back into society, just meant that the same cycles of behaviour would play out over and over.

‘Violence’ samples from a short film shot by the drama division of the Blackbird Leys Youth Club to evoke the physical threat which formed a background hum to life on the estate. The industrial mechanics of the local car factory, which served an integral role as a workplace for many in the community, gets sampled in ‘They Only Come Out At Night’ while the ‘Everyone I look up to are either junkies or criminals’ sample in ‘Broke’ looks to a lack of positive role models.

Municipal Dreams isn’t a one-note indictment of life on the estate, ‘Innocence’ captures the simplicity of a child at birth before their environment has time to shape them. The Hope interludes cut through the grim honesty of the longer tracks while a subtle thread of wry humour finds its way into some of the talking heads cutting through the signature LEA murk.

But honesty is the operative word here, and the message feels all the more meaningful at a time when the UK’s social divisions are laid bare in the wake of a devastating stretch of austerity. Returning to Blackbird Leys to shoot images for the photo-zine and album cover, the Activist found the local community centre being demolished. The local pub stands derelict, its faded Welcome sign a grimly ironic portent of the options facing children of the estate in the wider world.

Funnelling his memories, hopes and fears into a singular twist on the bass weight tradition, LEA captures evocative scenes that land somewhere between kitchen sink realism and rave futurism.

Bassline veteran and all-round soundsystem sorcerer Marcel Deptford lands on Sneaker Social Club with two ruff-n'-tuff rave-n'-b re-flips that run as a prelude to big things to come.

This is the first time you will have heard a record under the name Marcel Deptford, but he's got serious skin in the game with an imposing history in the legendary bassline scene from the late-00s. His records as DS1 are the stuff of legend for anyone keyed into the Niche-centric sound, but more recently he's put out some serious heat as Haider running his own Breaker Breaker label and popping up on Aus and the like.

If you're a fan of millennial RnB there's every chance you'll recognise the vocals that breathe life into Deptford's two tracks for this Sneaker release. Moving beyond simple edit territory, the voices are bedded deep down into gritty rave productions that boast the kind of dirt bag sonics that call straight back to the OG days of breakbeat hardcore. 'Rock The Boat' has bloated bass pushing into the red, clattering breaks chopped up with a rugged swagger and a dreamy, haunted dose of dub poured all over the vocals.

'Make It Hot' has a lighter, swung feel which nods to garage, but there's still plenty of weight on the low end. Once the lead vocal sample steps back to open up the space, Deptford's knack for strong melodic hooks comes through in a blown out arp line which the bassline dutifully follows.

Hitting every sweet spot from the low-down dirty rave receptors via moody head-nodding restraint on to iconic vocals, Marcel Deptford shows exactly what he's capable on this release ahead of a more extensive dive into his legacy, due further down the line.

As we approach the threshold leading us back to the Black Lodge on our transformative 8th journey, we are escorted through and beyond the mystical portal by the vigorous and fierce forces of Sneaker. Portrait in House is a collection of 3 resonant works, which are unified into a singular vision within its uncanny language that is rooted deeply in the foundations of Jak, New Beat, EBM, and Wave. Existing inside the liminal spaces of where light meets dark, we are presented with a documentation of dissonance and harmony. We begin our voyage with Jihad, a sluggish and slogging piece that unforgivingly drags us through the grime and the dirt in a ritualistic fashion that would have the ghost of Georges Bataille dancing in circles. Voices call out and howl into the dark as the drum patterns of the 707 rhythmically grasps onto its anarchic components. In the dark, we can see the light beyond the known universe. In the words of Sneaker "The name is not our message, but a document of an evident, traditional concept in (y)our world." As we find ourselves sprawled out on the ground following the 1st sonic stanza, a menacing voice bellows and warns that this is a Sax Track. Referencing Chicago icon Lil Louis, this work juxtaposes classical elements of house music together with the bare knuckled spirit of Jak. A magical spell led by disharmonious Portasound FM keys in conversation with a teetering sub bass, where at its core, this plus this, equals something that is uniquely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. A number fit for any uncanny ritual that will fall under the night sky. Bringing our cosmic procession to a close we pick up the pace with a commanding number titled, Dance On, a no holds barred work that will possess your soul in the name of Jak. Flangers wail unforgivingly alongside a pulsating 101, as samples of the human voice are chopped up and arranged into a conversation that hypnotically calls for our bodies to be transformed into soft machines, while powered by ceremonious motions that are generated from the liberating process of ritual movement. We command you to dance! Words by Justin Aulis Long

Dialling up the needlepoint rhythmic science and deadly restraint we hold so dear, SPD debuts on Sneaker Social Club with a taut four-tracker built for smashing systems with measured flair. It's no surprise to learn Will Sheppard has graced labels like Keysound, EC2A and Roska Kicks + Snares in recent times, given his sound taps into the UK bassweight lineage while maintaining a necessary futuristic tilt.

'Genbu' deals in the kind of stripped back, snaking sequences that keep a body of people rolling deep into the dance, powered by sounds so crisp you'd think they'd slipped out of a trouser press. Maintaining this sonic poise, 'Systema' is a lean, bleep-speckled roller with a firm grip on the square wave snarls lurking below the midrange.

'Willman' rides a choppier groove, but still Sheppard holds down the dance with a monk-like patience, finding power in the art of holding back before opening out into the subtly emotional swathes of 'OK' to round the record out. The devil is in the detail, and there are deep-diving layers to the sound of SPD, but this is a specific angle on club music that prizes subtlety and meditation over brash arrangement swerves and bait hype trysts. For selectors seeking sublime set builders, SPD has got you.

Lock on for a legit excursion into 140 realness as Sneaker Social Club welcomes Silas into the fold. The breakthrough Oxford beatsmith has been on the bubble-up for a minute, facing off with the likes of Trends and Boylan on Mean Streets, remixing PRAGA and throwing down for repeat appearances on Rinse and elsewhere.

The sound Silas pushes on the ‘Wot’ EP - his debut solo 12” no less - is steeped in the original dank pressure of OG grime and dubstep, where moodiness and minimalism create the perfect storm for all-consuming soundsystem immersion. There’s a wavey swing to ‘Know Yourself’ which contrasts with the strict, claustrophobic drive of ‘Wot’. ‘Ubuntu’ on the flip teases an evocative sound world just past the edge of the mix, but manages to hold down the stripped back approach on a skippy 4/4 rhythm which nudges garage into a kind of tech-house-funky amalgamation. ‘Make It Happen’ offers yet another subtle slant on Silas’ style, crooked and gritty but still executed with
an unrelenting, austere focus.

Consider this an essential pin dropped on forward-leaning bassweight sounds which carry the torch for grime and dubstep’s ice-cold origins, maintaining maximum presence without even a whiff of derivative wobble.

The legendary Horsepower Productions return to Sneaker for a thematically charged trip into future zones, driven by dexterous breakbeat science and ruffneck soundboy wisdom.

The UK dubplate heavyweights are no stranger to a loaded sample, and they’ve got a message to impart on this double-edged record. They kick off with a rumination on the planet’s fragile ecosystem on ‘Tropic’, which looks to a possible future with an ominous fate for the foliage we hold dear. Production-wise, Horsepower set electric drum loops off against lurid daubs of synth without derailing the motion, but a huge amount of the track’s impact arrives in the sampling from a cult classic slice of sci-fi. The premise is that the last remaining trees and plants from earth are adrift in space in a bio-dome, and have been condemned for demolition - a depressingly feasible scenario with an aggravated soundtrack to boot.

On the flip, ‘Computer Rock’ rides a tough break slow and hard and injects dystopian electro synth licks into the mix for a darkside roller that celebrates the visionary talent of Jeff Brown, aka Kase 2. Brown pioneered graffiti in the 70s with futuristic styles that still hold sway today, leaning into his own sci-fi imaginings about computer worlds inhabited by extra-terrestrial beings, Brown passed away in 2011, and this track and the attendant B2 cut ‘Kase - Reprise’ pay tribute to a forefather of hip-hop culture by channeling the future shock styles of Bambaataa et al without ever sounding throwback.

The concept on this record gets taken out further with the additional digi-only tracks, which take in the low-slung, skunked up funk of ‘Blaque Gras’ and the amped up rave damage of ‘Kase 2-Part 2’. Throughout, on-point samples and a clear-eyed focus bring out the best in the Horsepower approach, offering up next level dance wreckers with something to say.

It’s been a minute, but Sneaker Social Club is gassed to facilitate the return of the mighty House Of Black Lanterns, locking in for the dankest 2-step flex in a sincere ode to pirate radio culture. Dylan Richards has always displayed an affinity for low-end pressure threaded through his versatile HOBL output on Houndstooth and his prior work as King Cannibal, but he’s never dialled in to UKG with this much focus before.

The A side comes on strong with ‘Back To Back Special’, a dark garage creeper with negative space so vast it becomes all consuming — all the better for the ample MC toasting and spring reverb FX splashes to ping out around the skeletal, hard-knocking swing and snarling bass. ‘Out To The Private Number’ maintains the theme, flipping soulful UKG tropes into an ice-cold update for these malevolent times.

On the flip, Richards pushes the formula further out with ‘Slew’, which deploys hardcore-minded bass hooks in a devilishly dissected rhythmic framework and amps up the yard intensity on the MC source material to create a deadly intersection of garage, rave and dancehall. ‘Summon Like’ dials up the eeriness and lets the growl of the bass take centre stage in a potent, unnervingly minimalist dance wrecker that simply confirms the crystal clear vision Richards is pursuing on this record.

It’s a devout love letter to the edgiest of garage’s golden era without being limited to a simple genre study. Instead, a broad church of soundsystem exaltation gets expressed through the Richards’ elevated production vocabulary, capturing the shockout, mind-blowing spirit of the most trailblazing plates when they first got dropped on an unsuspecting crowd.

More Than Ten Years Since He First Emerged On Skull Disco, Appleblim Presents His Debut Album. The Label He Co-founded With Shackleton Was The First The World Heard Of His Productions, But Laurie Osborne's Innate Relationship With Electronic Music Culture Reaches Back Much Further Than Those Groundbreaking Early Days Of Dubstep. Early Days Spent Soaking Up Hardcore, Jungle, Techno And Plenty More Besides Were Fundamental Foundations From Which To Spring Into The Then-unknown Realms Of Sub-low Half-step Club Music. At That Time Fwd>> And Dmz Were The Church For This Ritualistic Sound, And Appleblim Was A Regular Fixture At Both.

As Dubstep Matured, Magnified, Mutated And Meandered, So Appleblim Moved Beyond Skull Disco To Explore Different Avenues Of Expression In The New Many- Layered Club Music Landscape. His Own Apple Pips Imprint Was A Natural Vessel On Which To Explore The Emergent Fusions Of Hardcore-derived Sounds And The Us-born House, Techno And Electro, While Labels Such As Aus Music Equally Provided A Home For His Work (often Alongside Komonazmuk). Meanwhile Long-standing Collaborations With Alec Storey (al Tourettes / Second Storey) Finally Manifested In The Hyper-modern Mind-twist Of Also, Captured As An Album On Legendary Rave Label R&s.

More Recently It's Been Possible To Hear Appleblim Delve Into Electro-acoustic And Ambient Production Alongside Bassweight Sounds On Tempa, One Of The Original Bastions Of Dubstep Culture. As The Existing Boundaries Between Genres, Cultures, Eras And Scenes Continue To Dissolve, On His Debut Album Appleblim Offers Up A Fresh Approach That Brings Some Of The Foundational Sound Ethics Of Rave Culture Into A Modern Framework.

Hardcore Breaks Are Still A Regular Sound Source In Contemporary Club Tracks, But On Life In A Laser It's Instantly Apparent That Appleblim Has Moved Beyond Choosing Popular Drum Samples To Truly Tap Into The Elusive Feeling Engendered By The Music Of The Era. It's A Tricky Feat To Manage, But In The Pie-eyed Chords Of ignite', The Subby 808 Tom Basslines On nci' Or The Mr. Fingers Synth Flex On manta Key' The Sonic Finish Sports The Same Understated Grit And Grime That Made Those Early Records So Timeless. There's Still Space For Modernism, Not Least On Snaking 2-step Killer i Think We'll Let The Gas Sort This One Out', But It's Offset By A Layer Of Dust, Not To Mention An Inherent Moodiness That Can't Be Faked.

This Fine Balance Of Rave Romanticism And Future-minded Approaches Binds Together In A Cohesive Conceptual Statement. First And Foremost It's Appleblim's Personal Reflection On The Music That Has Moved Him On Countless Dancefloors Since His First Flirtations With Soundsystem Culture. At The Same Time The Canny Influx Of Modern Ideas Into The Soundworld Of The 90s Genuinely Results In A New Proposition, Making For A Perfect Fit On The Modern-day 'ardcore Fetishists Label Of Choice, Sneaker Social Club. Many May Claim To Draw On Old-skool Influences In Their Modern Trax, But Take One Listen To flows From Within' And You'll Feel The Same Time-slipping Surge Of Future-shock As The Ravers At Lost, Dreamscape, The Dungeons, Clink Street, Blue Note And All Those Other Iconic Spots.

Weighing in with more of the deadly payloads that make systems weep, Alan Johnson return to Sneaker Social Club to finish what they started on 2022’s The Stillness EP.
Gareth and Tom’s sharp instinct for the fundamentals of crushing half-step pressure remain undiminished on this latest EP. Their sound palette reaches across contrasting strands of music culture, and every bar is teeming with micro details of sound design which give the tracks a living, breathing quality.

Ten Year Tonnage splits the EP open in whipcrack snares, DMZ flutes and a thick bed of sub, constantly shifting and teasing roots drops before opening up the mids and letting the low end snarl.

The chord hook on ‘Shapeshifter’ nudges towards some bold rave shapes, but there’s restraint and poise in the way the sounds get deployed. The Johnson way is one of suffocating space and uneasy tension, which obviously creates the best kind of dancefloor drama. As ‘Muay Size’ ably demonstrates, the likely lads are happy to pare a tune back to a skeletal framework and keep dancers waiting. When the pay-off comes, it’s not what you might expect, and that’s precisely why their sound is fresher than yours.

‘People Of The World’ goes even further out as it staggers and stumbles through skewed jazz samples and snatches of drums being thrown across the room. For all the splaying angles, there’s still a rock solid weight to the tune which proves Alan Johnson are more than comfortable taking things out to a weird fringe without losing their swagger.

Reach for the geiger counter - Park End comes shelling in the direction of Sneaker Social Club with some plutonium-plated, 2-stepping swelterweight gear for the grubbiest of dancehalls. All we can ascertain about the shadowy figure on the buttons for this latest release is that they’re clearly schooled in the lineage of UK hardcore, pirate radio culture and the sympathetic tenets of UKG, jungle and dubstep.

Opening up the A side, ’Same Dream’ is a claustrophobic, gnarly creeper with razor-sharp snares, growling low end and enough heads-down malaise to turn the most blissful sunrise set ice-cold. ‘The Immortality Of The Crab’ pays tribute to the fine tradition of illegal radio broadcasting and its importance for the development of rave, leaning on a staggered, mucky garage beat that smacks hard just how we like it.

On the flip, Park End turns attention to the synergy between RnB and garage with a refix of BBL Sound’s ‘BBS’, pairing the sweetest vocal chops with plenty of bitter b-line pressure, while ‘Rekt’ draws on an unnamed voice for another fission between human sensitivity and mechanised intensity. This parting shot borders on anti-anthemic by the time it reaches its peak while holding true to the pitch-black vibe creeping out around the edges of this rough diamond of an EP.

Weighing in heavy with murderous intent across three guaranteed dance levellers, Trends & Boylan land on Sneaker Social Club with a bang. The pair have been slugging out grime-leaning gear for the past five years, causing a ruckus with their truly evil ‘Norman Bates’ beat, releasing also on Trends own Mean Streets label and linking up with Slimzee’s foundational stable Slimzos for some dubplate action.

They bring that street-level swagger to the tracks on the Ninety Nine EP, but here their punchy 8-bar flex is embellished to blend in with the Sneaker surroundings a treat. ‘Carnage’ tips towards chopped up Think Breaks while ‘Nocturnal’ doubles down on the dirtiest of b-lines. Confirming their allyship from dubplates' gone by, Slimzee links up with Trends & Boylan for the double A side slammer, ‘Ninety Nine’, weaving dread-side D&B stabs around a tightly-wound beat with devastating results.

There’s not an ounce of excess on these cuts precision tooled to smashup the dance good and proper. Need we say more?

Last year Low End Activist mapped out the depth and breadth of his sound with the Hostile Utopia album on Sneaker Social Club and now he returns with a fresh payload of future shock-outs from the grimy depths of his sound well. Recent times have seen LEA releases tipping towards MC guest spots but on this EP he’s turning inward with three varied, mutant workouts for soundsystem immersion.

‘Sent West’ makes no bones about its inspiration from the tough, boxy end of early dubstep, but as ever the kink in the Activist’s sound comes from the detail around the rhythm and his embrace of off-centre textures. ‘Neurosis’ plumbs even further down in its dogged pursuit of infinite subs and dystopian atmospherics, offering the kind of subliminal, wayward stepper to tweak nervous minds to distraction. ‘Dry Chat, Wet Rag’ stretches out on the B side with a phantom dub pulled from rad-blasted wastelands, caked in slime and tough enough to withstand any fallout.

Calling to mind the introspective, evocative work on the likes of Engineers Origins EP, this is LEA using the hardcore continuum to tell his most murked-out tales.

Bowling out of Offenbach with a swing in his step, Dogpatrol returns for round three on Sneaker Social packing another four-strong payload of mutant rave clout. If you caught the previous missives then you should have some idea of where he's coming from, getting freaky with rave signifiers and laying down ear-snagging swerves to juice up the dance good and proper.

On this latest release we dip-dive into the grime-licked garage-tech shuffle of 'Non PGR' only for the script to get flipped at the mid-section in favour of diced up Think breaks. The pressure doesn't ease once Nasty King Kurl comes on board for a rolling remix strapped to a disgustingly massive kick drum impulse.

'Sassafras' takes a leaner approach to bleepy breakbeat contortions on the B side, holding down the arrangement and letting the track rip when everyone's wound up and hungry. NKK returns again to partner up with our resident Dog for the collab joint 'Creepin', chopping out the RnB samples and whipping up square wave synth flurries shouting out that overlooked substrata of dubstep - the Purple sound. It's a cheeky hint at the deep-level affinity for all rave gear which powers this EP, another sure step on from your favourite canine soundsystem practitioner.

Early DJ Support from: Laurent Garnier, Riz La Teef, Boofy, Ojoo Gyal, Addison Groove, Emerald, Main Phase, Miley Serious, Kouslin, Yushh, Bakey, Tãn, Sister Zo, GRRL (NTS), Syz, Flore, Star Eyes, Lefto, Roger 23, Tailor Jae, Ciel, Om Unit + more

In a blizzard of delirious sonics and twis’ up samples extracted from the annals of dancehall and ragga, Seekersinternational return to Sneaker Social Club to double down on the manifesto they laid out with the original RaggaPreservationSociety EP way back in 2016.

As ever, the SKRS magic lies in their ability to convey a deep affection and serious dedication for the source material while simultaneously getting shamelessly weird with it, taking the mutant tendencies of dancehall’s wildest instrumentals and injecting some added cosmic sauce into the mix. On this new record, they’re also embracing the volatile potential of junglist breaks - always intrinsically linked to Jamaican music at the point of inception, especially in the rough and ready daze of ragga jungle.

‘No Parasites (Lickshot)’ is a fierce mission statement, raining down mayhem without ever slipping into familiar modes - the emphasis is on the ragga, the jungle is there as a piquant flavour in the stew, but as ever the SKRS sound remains entirely out on its own. In contrast, ‘CaughtUp (HeartBreaks)’ almost edges closer to hardcore structures, but something keeps slipping in to run the interference, hovering just beyond perception for that all important woozy feeling.

‘2GoldChain (DriveUCrazy)’ is cut up enough to be another interstellar voyage, but here SKRS keep the music back in the mix and let a tapestry of chat lead out front as though capturing a casual street level chaos - bewildering and familiar in equal measure. ‘OriginaloftheOriginal’ completes the set with an earth-shattering script flip once more, coming on like square wave grime and half-speed breakbeat set to emotional stun. If it takes a minute to make sense, that’s because you’re hearing something entirely new.

Embodying the mutant nature of club music in the modern age, Cocktail Party Effect comes bowling into Sneaker Social Club with a taut, wiry sound which joins dots and melts barriers at will.

The brainchild of Charlie Baldwin, who previously recorded as Kasket, Cocktail Party Effect has been forged over the past six years through heavy bursts of sound design anchored by soundsystem dynamics veering between 140 and 160 tempo zones. From 2020’s self-titled LP on Tectonic to drops on Osiris, Cold, Transfigured Time and more, Baldwin’s deftly avoided allegiance to any specific scene and instead deployed shock-inducing gear for DJs with fortitude to test on their crowds.

On SNKRX010 the commitment to physicality is prevalent across all four tracks, veering from the deadly broken beat barbs and artful fills of ‘Racka’ to the splintered breakbeat rushes and stop-start aggravation of ‘C.A.T.C.R’. ‘Grims8’ is perhaps the purest manifestation of the Cocktail Party sound though, all monochrome rigour with the contrast turned way up, powered by steely, gleaming rhythmic impulses and writhing with dense layers of sonic matter. Watch out for the glutinous bass snarl of ‘58bethe7’ though, which slams in sideways with an unabashed rave instinct crushed through a post-modern production lens.

Baldwin may be operating on his own terms, but on this 12” he demonstrates versatility to match his originality, resulting in four inventive dance destroyers tooled to bridge between styles, sets and scenes.

Brace yourselves for a heavy dose of hi-tech futurisms from a long time Sneaker associate. Laurie Osborne has held true to his free-spirited musical demeanour since his breakthrough dubstep years, springing across tempos and styles while holding fast to a deep-rooted raver's instinct. His profound appreciation and knowledge of vast oceans of music injects his sound with a boundless, playful enthusiasm. As was evident with his 2018 LP Life In A Laser and his ALSO collaboration with Second Storey, Osborne speaks fluently in the techno and electro vernacular as much as UK soundsystem gear, channeling a sparkling, melodic energy which typified those genres at their inception. On Infinite Hieroglyphics, Osborne trips into expansive imagined vistas and fizzy furrows with a pervasive sub-bass footing.

Emotional Rescue returns to the music of Takenoko, the Bordeaux based synth-pop project from 1982-1988, to follow their LP collection L'Amour Est Mon Arme (ERC062), with an EP of remixes from Dresden's cult-like producer, Sneaker DJ.
The meeting of Takenoko and Sneaker offers a perfect marriage of left field cold wave tones, inventive drum programming and pop lyrics, with a master-mixer, programmer and DJ of today.
Following releases on cult labels like Uncanny Valley, Rat Life and Frigio as Sneaker and numerous labels such as Macadam Mambo, Bordello A Parigi and Bahnsteig 23 under several pseudonyms, Sneaker first contacted the label after his trance-inducing, drum heavy remix of C Cat Trance , with the suggestion to research an idea to create a reissue / remix project out of a band he had discovered, Takenoko.This was soon expanded to become a stand-alone album and remixes EP after the discovery in the vaults of a cache of unreleased songs. The breadth of styles found on L'Amour Est Mon Arme is matched with these "Mixes", as Sneaker takes 3 of their singles and indelibly puts his marker on them.
Starting with his retake of their second single, Lee Harvey Oswald, he reworks their pop ode to the Kennedy tragedy and strips it groove back for a near 9 minute vocal-meets-discodub that lets the lyrical structure remain, before stretching it out and letting the instrumental interplay between keys, guitar and rhythm machines glide before bringing it all back for finale.
Next, their 1988 single Trans Amor Express is given what is becoming a trademark Sneaker treatment. In a similar vain to his remix of C Cat Trance, here he rips the original apart to extend a single vocal refrain with the raw percussion elements for mind-inducing results.
Finally, his mix of the anthemic John Wayne is almost gentle in comparison, adding 909 overdubs but letting much of the original stay, showing again a modern mastery of mixing desk technique and craft.

Subliminale Materiale is the 5th installation on Lustpoderosa. Kind of a split EP. The A side with two remixes and two original jams of Jack Pattern on the B side. With this release we want to point out the remixes on the A side. Both done by Lustpoderosas favourite producers and DJs: Sneaker aka Dunkeltier (Uncanny Valley, Rat Life, Frigio) and Kris Baha (Power Station, Pinkman Cocktail D`Amore) . We guess you know and love them as much as we do.