Cerca:just addiction

Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

We are excited to continue our work with Art P / Art Programming by finally offering the first full-length work from this Bremen-based electronic group. Originally released only on cassette in 1983, the self-titled album has now been fully restored and remastered, complete with bonus tracks and unreleased mixes unearthed from a rare demo.

The LP opens with "Wesen vom anderen Stern" ("Beings from Another Planet"), a downtempo, 808-driven electro synth wave track with German lyrics telling a story of aliens capturing earth, becoming the new "Herren" (lords), while humans are reduced to mere "objects." Art Programming founding member Jens-Markus Wegener notes that this track has always been a favorite during live performances, and it's easy to imagine how the futuristic sounds would have blown people away at the time.

Next is the electro/proto-techno title track "Art Programming," which we previously issued on a limited 12" in its full-length form. With its straightforward Roland 808 rhythms, catchy synth lines, and vocoder vocals, it's a classic example of German electro, and one of the earliest proto-techno tracks - long before Cybotron claimed the techno mantle. Its extensive break and electronic twist make it an early precursor to the genre. Wegener recalls that this track was created exclusively by him and Grotelüschen, with Grotelüschen contributing most of the melodic elements, while Wegener focused on drum machine programming and vocoder vocals.

On "That's Me," the album welcomes back singer Claudia Roebke. Although it's an electronic composition, Roebke adds a rock-infused, almost psychedelic vibe to the song. The lyrics, written by Wegener, depict a person obsessed with their appearance, using irony to critique societal beauty norms, questioning the obsession with perfection and attraction.

The album continues with a series of uptempo electro tracks: "Videoscreen," "La Gare," and "Genscher Pull 'N' Push." The first two feature slightly different mixes from an earlier demo that we personally prefered over the versions that were available on the final cassette release. "Videoscreen" expands on the theme of social isolation, with lyrics reflecting on a world obsessed with watching video all day - a topic that resonates strongly with today's culture of doom scrolling and social media addiction.

Next up, "Genscher Pull 'N' Push" is an incredible electro/wave/proto-techno track recorded in October 1982 with a political edge. Originally omitted from the album, it was only available on the demo cassette we mentioned earlier. The song takes aim at German politics, with lyrics that shout "bitte geh nach links / bitte geh nach rechts" ("please go to the left" and "please go to the right"), referencing the shifting political allegiances during the 1982 coalition change, when Genscher's party, the FDP, left the Helmut Schmidt cabinet to join the CDU/CSU opposition. The track was never released as the political topic had become outdated just a few months later.

The album closes with "Light and Fire," which originally served as the album's opening track. Its quirky, upbeat vibe now makes for a fitting outro.

The gear used on this album reads like a dream list for early 80s electronic music production: Roland Jupiter 4, TR 808, TB 303, System 100, SVC 350, Korg Mono/Poly, Moog Prodigy, FRICKE-Sequenzer, Roland CSQ-100 Sequenzer, Coron DS-8, MM 12/2, Sony TC 399, TEAC-244 Portastudio, Ibanez DM 1000, EH-Electric Mistress, EV-Micro. This unique lineup of equipment sets the album apart from NDW releases of the era, lending it a distinct sound with heavy proto-techno leanings and that straightforward electro vibe we all love.

The album is being released as a very limited edition of 300 copies on transparent red vinyl, complete with a full picture sleeve and lyrics inlay. This is yet another rediscovered and restored 80s gem on our label that you definitely don't want to miss!

/// First track, Symmetry, debuted on BBC Radio 6 New Music Fix, 10th February: "A beautiful, beautiful album" /// I got my life back. On 17 February 2025, 1024 rays of ultra sound converged at an operation table in Bern, Switzerland, and disconnected a noisy circuit on my brain. 90% of the manifestation ceased – of a disease that I no longer wish to mention by its name. During the same period, I completed my new album: Self Help Manual. I’ve read more current research about the nameless disease than my neurologist, who despite that I didn’t follow his advice on suitable treatment, called me after the successful operation: a brave, brave man. I have composed the music in the same way as in my previous album – Songs for the Nervous System – through layers upon layers of improvisations in dialogue with my synthesizers, most of which are the same age as me. I made the majority of the songs in my studio in the remains of Old Hagalund in Solna. I edited the recordings in my bed during the waking hours of clarity at night. Some songs – NAC, Ketosis, Overkill – were recorded in the basement of my childhood home in Skutskär, in Norduppland, where I’d returned to be nurtured by my retired parents – who during a night when I couldn’t turn over in bed, or pull the blanket over me – made a list of what would happen to my belongings. To my friends who have stood out with me despite my disease, I want to state: you will not inherit me yet. On the new album, the electric bass takes on a leading role. ESG and Liquid Liquid have been important when I reinvented my baselines, limited and liberated by my poor fine motor skills. Plasma is my homage to Summertime Rolls by Jane’s Addiction, that I listened to frequently in my youth. I guess that no one will hear the resemblance. In several songs, the Fender Rhodes plays an important role, a magical instrument that I bought shortly after my diagnosis over a decade ago, and for a long time didn’t dare to touch out of respect for Herbie Hancock and Fela Kuti. A couple of songs draw inspiration from the Horn of Africa – Inner Nile and Delta. At first, subconsciously in the reverb-drenched Inner Nile, then more consciously in Delta. I’m sorry it doesn’t swing the right way, but it was my attempt to return to the cradle of humanity. Longevity is possibly my favourite. The melody is played by an arpeggiator that I controlled by pressing down different keys in an exhilarating sense of freedom. One song in particular, the second track – One – has caused friends to associate freely: one thought it sounded like Patrick Cowley, another like Sly & Robbie meets Kraftwerk, a third like Air – Moonlight Safari. I made one song just before the surgery: opening track Symmetry. It’s the mightiest and most minimal song. I made one song after the surgery: finishing track Self Help Manual. My previous medication pump is heard through the microphone of my Ovation Magnum. It’s the most hopeful song on the album. I took the cover photos with my Hasselblad during walks in Tokyo suburbs of Ōmori and Kamata more than ten years ago. It was something about the faith of the traffic cones that fascinated me – born in the same streamlined form, they had over the years become increasingly individual and lovable. The mixing was finalized by Christoffer Roth in the newly built Studio Dubious in Nacka. Rashad Becker, who in an interview said that he listens as much with his mouth as with his ears, mastered the album at Clunk in Berlin. Right now it feels like anything is possible. My recovery is perhaps a small step for mankind, but a giant leap for me. I hereby leave the music to you. Joakim Forsgren

Produced by Masters At Work (Kenny Dope and Louie Vega).

'Collaboration is stimulating, it's in my blood.' Thus speaks Brian Jackson and his philosophy for making music and it's indeed collaboration that runs through this amazing album of reimagined and revisited songs from his artistic past. Featuring artists such as Black Thought, Rahsaan Patterson, Josh Milan, Moodymann, Omar, J. Ivy and others and being produced by Masters At Work, Now More Than Ever takes the enduring classic tracks that Brian made with Gil Scott-Heron and places them in the now over nineteen tracks and across a triple vinyl LP or double CD.

Songs such as Lady Day & John Coltrane, The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, Home Is Where The Hatred Is, Winter In America, The Bottle and more soundtracked a generational movement of Black Consciousness in the 70s and 80s. As Brian says, 'This album is one way to connect to what we were about in the 70s; we were about change and this is part of the lineage of resistance. These tracks mark a period of time when resistance was essential and now a younger generation has picked them up.'

'As young men in their twenties we (Brian and Gil) just wrote about what we saw and were feeling and people interpreted these songs in ways we never thought about but as Sly stone said the song comes from me but it's for you.' This statement from Brian perfectly sums up the collaborative nature of Now More Than Ever and the relevance of these songs in a contemporary perspective can be perfectly summed up by the songs themselves. The formidable stable of artists contributing to each track and the excellent production from Louie Vega and Kenny 'Dope' Gonzalez make this album an event in itself. However, these songs are there to be enjoyed as a canon or as individual masterpieces, whether on the dancefloor or on a home system. ‘Now More Than Ever’ just has to be in everybody’s music collection.

Original Funk Band from Paris

With just three years on the scene, Jéroboam is already considered as one of the most exciting and essential new voices in contemporary soul funk.

A true manifesto for live music and the dancefloor, this 11-piece live machine hits the stage like a juggernaut and doesn’t just play funk, they live and breathe it.

After a slew of certified underground classic releases on Space Grapes and Chuwanaga which have been supported worldwide by tastemakers and connoisseurs, Jéroboam is now presenting its long awaited first LP on Favorite Recordings.

From boogie-funk to 2-step soul crossover, Jéroboam delivers 8 heartelf songs, combining razor-sharp compositions with genuine and relatable lyrics.

Achieving such an exciting and challenging piece of work is the outcome of a long and inspiring process started more than 10 years ago in Paris.

From their early beginnings on the local scene, the core musicians of Jéroboam thrived on their mutual love for funk music under the name and concept of Echoes Of.

Building on these successful experiences and expanding its line up over the years, the band has been able to sharpen its sound, craft a distinctive crossover identity and create its own original music under a brand new entity : Jéroboam.

This momentum culminates in their debut full-length album, set for release in june 2026 on Favorite Recordings, a defining moment for one of Europe’s most vital modern funk acts.

Isa Gordon and Tony Morris were first brought together through their individual releases on Optimo Music, which established mutual respect within the label’s community. While they had not previously performed live together, they were invited to take part in a fundraiser hosted by Queen’s Park Arena in support of Glasgow NW Foodbank and later for JD Twitch’s end-of-life care. Tony asked Isa to contribute guitar and backing vocals to his set, including a track then called Last Night I Had a Dream. That performance became the seed for their collaboration.

The first phase of fleshing it out, recalls Tony: “Somebody said Isa sang like Shania Twain. That got me thinking about country music and call and response, prompting me to come up with alternative lyrics.” Isa remembers: “I cycled over to Tony’s house with my guitar, and we spoke about what the tune meant. It was about him being wrapped up in dreamland, luxuriating in his subconscious, while my character — impatient and trapped in her own routines — barely had time to remember her own dreams.” Tony continues: “Brilliantly I realised that I could never collaborate with anyone in situ and so I sat in the garden for two hours watching my wife tend to plants. Every now and again I would creep up the stairs and put my ear to the door. I could hear Isa warbling away and so would resume my garden watch. After two hours I went back upstairs to see how she was getting on, only to find that she had written one of the greatest songs I’d ever heard. I still think that.” Tony adds: “My overwhelming sentiment about Wake Up Baby is pride. I can honestly say that I’m more proud of it than anything else I have done. It ticks a whole load of boxes. Isa’s singing in various Scottish modes is unique. The way her electric guitar adorns the dance beat makes it a rock song as well as a dance and a C&W song — truly multi-genre.”

The B-side of the 12” release, Syringe Moustache, is a surreal, darkly playful counterpart to Wake Up Baby. The track was inspired by a dream Tony had: “I was in a shopping mall, in a two-level shoe shop, and my attention was taken by a little girl with a syringe taped beneath her nose like a moustache. She went about her business trying on shoes, confident and wise beyond her years. In the dream, I imagined her as the daughter of cultured, intelligent parents determined to raise her independently. I was struck by my own feelings of inadequacy — I knew I could never have coped with such a contraption myself.” Isa’s take on the meaning of this song somewhat differs: “Tony sent me the tune over Instagram months before I met him, and I was spooked — as far as I knew, he didn’t know anything about me, but the story felt like it was written about me as a little girl, growing up around heroin addiction. The syringe beneath the girl’s nose became a symbol of the inescapable constraints of that environment, literally written on her face, yet something you just have to carry on through. On a buzz from the serendipity, I added a full instrumental backing to this most bizarre of works.”

The result is absurd, unsettling, and strangely empowering, staking out its own surreal, cinematic space. The 12” dance single is a format Tony had long wanted to explore — a tangible artefact to leave for family, a medium that celebrates the physicality of sound and the ritual of listening. It allowed the artists to maximise the format’s potential: a strong, multi-genre A-side, a surreal B-side, and remixes that expanded the record’s sonic world. Glasgow music staples Auntie Flo and 100% Positive Feedback were invited to reinterpret the tracks, bringing their distinctive touch — Auntie Flo transforming the A-side into a luscious, dancefloor-ready meditation, and 100% Positive Feedback twisting Syringe Moustache into absurd, playful shapes with false-start drops and over-the-top vocal editing.

The cover photograph, taken at the University Café by Harrison Reid, captures Isa and Tony embodying the characters they brought to life in the songs — a visual reflection of the record’s narrative and emotional stakes. The Café also holds personal significance: it’s where all of Isa’s meetings with Keith McIvor took place, where she first remembers visiting Glasgow as a child, and a place Tony fondly likes to go to drip egg yolk down his tie and watch the world go by. Together, the 12” format, the remixes, and the artwork create a cohesive, tactile experience, amplifying the duality, theatricality, and emotional breadth of the collaboration.

Celebrated DJ, producer, and sonic explorer Auntie Flo (aka Brian d’Souza) — described by The Guardian as “one of global club culture’s most vital voices” — returns this autumn with ‘Birds of Paradise’: a rhythmically rich, emotionally resonant, and ecologically grounded new album, out 23 October via his A State of Flo imprint. The album will be launched with a special live show at London’s Jazz Caféon the same day.

‘Birds of Paradise’ draws on d’Souza’s global club experience while deepening his connection with the natural world. Built around classic Roland drum machines and iconic vintage synths, the record is a joyful, body-driven celebration of rhythm and movement, but one grounded in ecology and place. The album’s spiritual centre lies in Saligao, Goa, near d’Souza’s maternal homeland where his Auntie Florie (where the name is derived from) is buried. Where he found his ‘paradise’ nearby, staying in a converted fisherman’s hut and recorded dawn choruses from a riverside studio overlooking mangrove-lined waters. Environmental textures from Japan also make their way into the music, creating a sonic map rooted in lived experience.

“Birds of Paradise is about finding beauty and rhythm in a chaotic world. It’s about listening, to nature, to our bodies, to what’s real. It’s a reminder that dance music can be both joyful and grounded.” The album blends Afro-Latin polyrhythms with Western 4/4 patterns, fusing instinctive, dancefloor energy with field recordings that anchor the music in the earth. Described by d’Souza as “tropical with a few deeper edges, a balance of light and dark.”

The new record follows the acclaimed ‘In My Dreams, I’m A Bird and I’m Free’, which earned 4 stars and Global Album of the Month from The Guardian, featured in Disco Pogo’s Albums of the Year, and received support from Luke Una, Resident Advisor, Juno, Bandcamp, Mixmag, DJ Mag, Electronic Sound, The Skinny, Beatport, Ban Ban Ton Ton, and more. The album’s launch show at Omeara London sold out. Other recent projects include the ‘Outernational Dance’ EP on cult label Multi Culti, event series ‘Plants Can Dance (and Mushroom’s Sing)’ which explore plant and fungi bioelectricity as a means of live composition, and ‘Black Beacon’, a haunting cassette release and soundwalk series recorded on the abandoned military island of Orford Ness. There, d’Souza explored the eerie intersection of nature, decay, and deep time, gaining special access to restricted buildings to capture long-form soundscape compositions.

Alongside his production work, d’Souza has emerged as a leading voice at the intersection of sound and science. He curated music for Imperial College’s groundbreaking psychedelic therapy trials, developing six-phase playlists to guide participants through psilocybin-assisted sessions treating conditions such as fibromyalgia and gambling addiction. His five-hour ambient set at Watching Trees Festival, selected as Resident Advisor’s Mix of the Day, continued this exploration into the therapeutic potential of sound in altered states. He also spent six months collaborating with BBC producer Tom Raine on a documentary for BBC World Service, centred on a two-week journey through Kenya and Goa. There, he performed live, led plant music workshops, and joined a deep listening retreat rooted in field recording. “I realised my studio isn’t just four soundproofed walls filled with instruments — it’s the journey itself. It’s the people I meet, the natural world I listen to, and the connections I feel.”

This same commitment to deep listening fuels his live concept Plants Can Dance, a project that combines the biosonification of plants and fungi with modular synthesis. The next event, on 14 September at Hideout Hackney Wick, will feature performances by Stella Z and Lapalace, with d’Souza and resident Lamine playing live alongside responsive plants in collaboration with Repot Hackney Wick and the label Music To Watch Seeds Grow By. “I’ve spent years exploring how electronic music can connect us, not just to each other, but to the natural world. Whether it’s translating mushroom data into melody or capturing birdsong at dawn, it’s about finding resonance across bodies, ecosystems, and machines.”

Rooted in his Goan and Kenyan heritage and shaped by years of travel and collaboration, d’Souza’s creative mission is simple: to reconnect the electronic world with the natural one. Through A State of Flo, he continues to blur the boundaries between club culture, sound art, and ecological awareness.

Written and recorded in singer-poet Karsyn Henderson, guitarist-banjoist Paul Lecours and percussionist Ryley Klima’s basement alongside bassist Chris Clegg, then mixed and mastered by longtime collaborator Noah Baxter, this self-produced introductory effort from the Montréal four-piece stylishly amalgamates elements from hardcore, punk, shoegaze, sludge, and folk.

Violence is a brazenly poetic homage to small town roots, a mashing of modern Western Canadian hardcore and folk. Extensive in scope, this debut full-length by Truck Violence takes the listener through wide-ranging dynamics, from solemn acoustic ballads to wrathful electric anthems. Deftly fractured rhythms and breakdowns, complex harmonic entanglements, emphatic screams of discontent, are met with hopeful, melodic tracks musing about the steady grip of a tight-knit community.

From somber, deceivingly happy banjo sequences to crashing noise and cries, Violence uses expression as a mirror, looking upon oneself with clarity, aiming to attain a sense of unadulterated truth of the matter. There is little modern music taking an honest look at the Western Canadian countryside, tackling themes such as addiction, abuse and dysfunction.

Truck Violence’s first album does just that, uniquely capturing this involuted setting through a wide lens to both contextualize and emphasize what it means to be overwhelmed, to feel shame, to struggle with self-destructive ways, to thrust oneself into art as an escape.

Renowned US producer Maceo Plex releases his highly anticipated third album, ‘’93', a homage to his three-decade journey through the realms of electronic music. Marking both a passion and a prolific career, the maestro presents a tantalising body of work that masterfully blends House, Hip Hop, Global Bass, Techno, Breaks, and Electronica. This audacious fusion delves into historic and modern influences, crafting an audio journey that transcends time, rich in history yet boldly future-facing.

‘’93' is a cross-genre exploration, seamlessly balancing emotion with hard-hitting beats. Maceo Plex collaborates with a stellar lineup of artists, including Diplo for his contribution on ‘You Don’t Have To Wait’ with Cubicolor, Oscar and the Wolf, Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction), Johnny Jewel and Desire, Kirsty Hawkshaw, Mystic Bill, AVNU, Giovanni, Ishi, and Tyler Hill, resulting in a diverse and dynamic musical affair.
This album narrates the story of a highly esteemed artist at a pivotal juncture in his career, consistently evolving towards new directions. Departing from the early deeper house sound that initially defined him, Maceo Plex intentionally ventures into new territory, steering away from his famed melodic and techno direction in recent years. Nevertheless, '93' retains the essence of Maceo Plex's signature style, transcending various sounds and genres in a manner reminiscent of his electrifying DJ sets, meticulously curated for the dancefloor and the crowds.

‘93’ vinyl LP by Maceo Plex is available on Lone Romantic from 17th May 2024.

Key Feedback Quotes:

Pete Tong - Maceo is such a talented producer. A sonic juganaut. An inspiration to so many aspiring music makers. He's a master of analogue and digital in the studio. He's a total 'one of'.
Kolsch - Incredible album!!!!
Artbat - “Very cooooool album!
Gregor Tresher - Wow, now this is what I call an album! Extraordinary stuff, I love it! Big up, Eric!
Hot Since 82 - Nothing short of sensational. My fav producer and DJ who consistantly sets the bar far too high and we all play catch up. Love it.
Rodriguez Jr - Awesome album. LOVE IT. Such a wide spectrum of influences here. Respect!
Laurent Garnier - Very cool. Will play these
Hernan Cattaneo - This is a really good album!
Wehbba - happy to finally see the album coming out, lots of gems, Nasty, Just You and I, Get out Of Here and You're My Desire are my main picks.
Eelke Kleijn - Already listened to the whole album on Spotify. Fantastic. Miles ahead of everyone else. Thanks for sending this, will play many of these for sure.
AFFKT - all tracks are amazing
Ida Engberg - Loooove this release! Stop that and Serpent jazz for me, can't wait to play them. Lone Romantic killing it!
Victor Ruiz - Honestly, you’re a genius! 10/10 productions always.
Pig&Dan - Great to hear new tunes from one of my favorite producers out there
Oliver Huntemann - some real gems on here
Fideles - wow, love it all
Peter Kruder - Love 'em all! Thanks for sending my way!
Yotto - Sick Sick Sick work!
Jody Wisternoff - Insane tracks from Maceo!!!
Terr - Amazing music as always, thx!
Nicolas Masseyeff - Solid release! Full Support!
Paige - Nasty is an absolutely mind-blowing track!!
Braxton - Incredible Album. .
Dense & Pika - Wicked stuff from Maceo.
Eli Brown - Always great music from Maceo Plex.
Anden - Congrats on the album! Love it!
Sergio Muñoz / Fur Coat - Great work from Eric! Congratulations.
La Fleur - So many gems in there, looking forward to having a proper listen from start to end! Thx
Captain Mustache - Big work here from Maceo, congratz!
Alex Kennon - This is a masterpiece!
Timo Maas - Clickbait is a cool track, I like the deep funk.
Martin Eyerer - This is a great album!! I love nasty most, but all great.
Nick Warren - This is such a great album.
Laurent Garnier - Very cool EP. Will play these.
Jonas Rathsman - Stop That sounds interesting

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

Agathe Plaisance, a self-taught visual artist and musician, creates a universe where the softness of folk origins gradually metamorphoses, giving way to sonic explorations that push the door open to other worlds. Her light-and-dark electronic pop plunges us into her inner world, with deeply intimate lyrics about illness, addiction, the relationship with oneself and with others. The Lynchian atmosphere created by the synth layers surround an ethereal voice, echoing the work of artists such as Cat Power and Mazzy Star. Through a live performance of continuous tension, the woman in the making explores herself and seeks to transcend her pain in order to reinvent herself. With this new album, Agathe Plaisance delivers an intense and introspective work, born from a period of deep depression. She explores with honesty her anger, losses, fears, and addictions, while also casting a clear-eyed gaze on those of others. Despite the darkness that runs through the record, glimpses of hope, love, and light begin to surface, offering a path toward healing. Deep Rest is more than just a title - it's a metaphor, a play of shadow and light at the heart of the project. The artist transforms pain into a tool for reinvention. Her folk beginnings gradually give way to more electronic and experimental sounds - a shift that mirrors her personal rebirth.

A Dark, Cinematic Soundtrack for Urban Life! UK duo Nightbus release their debut album Passenger, blending trip-hop, indie sleaze, and electronica into a hypnotic exploration of identity, addiction, and emotional tension. Produced by Alex Greaves (Working Men"s Club), the album features standout tracks like the pulsating "Ascension", the dub-heavy "Host", and the haunting "Angles Mortz". With roots in Manchester"s underground scene, Nightbus combine immersive soundscapes with introspective lyrics, crafting a sonic world that"s both unsettling and deeply relatable. Passengeris more than an album - it"s a multi-sensory experience, extending into club nights, fashion, and visual storytelling.

On an evening in November 2020, Belgian artist Nicolas Rombouts (Dez Mona, Stef Kamil Carlens…) and American-then-Brussels-based artist Matt Watts (+2024) met at Studio Caporal in Antwerp, behind Central Station. Just a week after the suicide of friend and artist Loloman (aka Ward Zwart), and in the wake of the end of a marriage marred by pain, addiction, and depression. The two had spoken by phone and agreed to a recording session.

That evening, they shared their loss in conversation, on muted piano, contrabass, and electronics. Compositions were shared and improvised, and by the next day, their album Muted Songs For Piano was complete.

It is meant to be listened to in one full trip from beginning to end. You’ve traveled across the galaxy and are looking back through a telescope at this world and its lonesome mausoleum of memory. Sounds you can almost hear, and movements you can almost feel, though you know it has passed in the time its light has taken to reach you.

Muted Songs For Piano is an impressive and extremely intense listening experience, an album that engages in a heroic battle with the personal nocturnal demons of the two composers.

If anyone knows how to roll with the punches, it’s Travis Roberts. At 24, the Texas songwriter has already battled addiction, buried friends, and been so broke he couldn’t put a roof over his head. Hell, he even joined an underground fight club just to pay for studio time.

“Whoever won the fights took home the lion’s share of the money,” he explains, “but even if you lost, you made something. I lost a lot, but I got what I needed out of it.”

It should be no surprise, then, that Roberts comes out swinging on his blistering debut, Rebel Rose. Recorded with Roberts’ longtime live band, The Willing Few, the album fuses earnest country storytelling with rowdy rock and roll energy as it blurs the lines between roots, punk, folk, and power pop. The writing is raw and visceral here, built on gritty portraits of working-class underdogs just trying to get by, and the performances are nothing short of explosive, propelled by a relentless rhythm section, searing guitars, and infectious melodic hooks. The result is an exhilarating album that defies easy categorization, an alternately bruising and triumphant reflection on growing up, getting clean, and giving it your all from an artist who’s taken more than his fair share of hits.

Every fighter knows, it doesn’t matter how many times you get knocked down. All that matters is how many times you get back up

A deeply personal journey of an aspiring artist (Solene) navigating the harsh realities of Hollywood. An album that explores the emotional toll of being a hopeless romantic in a city full of predators and narcissists. A raw look at survival — and the trauma that follows. A narrative arc that takes the listener from LA to Las Vegas, only to find the same demons follow: addiction, vices, self-destruction, and the allure of illusion but ultimately setting on a journey of healing: picking oneself up, learning from pain, and choosing hope again and again. A love letter to Jazz, honoring Solene’s roots, with Hip Hop providing the fire and framework, produced by J. Rawls, to create something new: a genre-bending sound that’s soulful, futuristic, and fearless. Midnight Angel is not just an album — it’s a testimony of recovery, and of rebellion.