Buscar:man power sonic pressure ep

Florentino announces Kilometro Quinze, a brand-new EP out 20 October. The five-song project will be Florentino’s debut EP on XL Recordings as part of the iconic house bag series. It includes the celebrated single “Constrictor (feat. BAMBII and KD One)” and a newly released single “Pressure” featuring the Mercury Prize-shortlisted multi-hyphenate, Shygirl.

Created over a three-year period between Manchester, London, Bogotá, New York, and LA, Kilometro Quinze features bold solo productions from Florentino (aka Yeshe Bahamon Beesley) alongside additional collaborations with Venezuelan-native Baby Cocada and fellow Sangre Nueva bandmate, DJ Python.

A direct reference to his grandfather’s farm near Villavicencio - a city in central Colombia where the Andes meet the plains of Los Llanos - Kilometro Quinze is a total realisation of the riveting, cross-culture club sound that Florentino has carefully constructed over the last few years. By drawing on the vast musical influences of his British-Colombian heritage, Florentino presents a unique sonic world where the darker acid tones central to Manchester’s underground club scene meet the irresistible swing of Latin American dance sounds. Kilometro Quinze is Florentino at the height of his powers as he releases some of his most captivating, innovative music to date.

We are welcoming a fresh blood from the south of Italy: Delikwe

Words Create Vibrations is a solo EP recorded between 2023 and 2025, where techno and dub foundations merge seamlessly with ambient textures and breaky-step rhythms. Across five tracks, the record unfolds as a deeply atmospheric journey — hypnotic, spacious, and rhythmically dynamic. Sub-heavy frequencies meet shifting percussive structures, while layers of delay and texture generate a sense of depth that feels both physical and introspective. Each composition evolves patiently, acting as a meditation on resonance, movement, and the unseen architecture of vibration.

The A-side presents Delikwe’s original works in their purest form: immersive, restrained, and subtly transformative. Rooted in sound system culture yet open in structure, the tracks balance meditative stillness with rhythmic propulsion.

On the B-side, Australian producer Pugilist delivers a powerful reinterpretation. Known for his refined low-end pressure and deeply immersive productions, he reshapes the source material into a weightier, system-focused experience. His remix amplifies the sub frequencies and spatial depth while preserving the meditative core of the originals, creating a compelling dialogue between exploratory dub atmospheres and grounded sonic precision.

Words Create Vibrations stands as a sonic exploration where rhythm, space, and texture converge into a fully immersive listening experience — crafted for powerful sound systems, late-night sessions, and attentive minds alike.



c a3. Agna Street [Words Create Vibrations]
[d] b1. 6am [Ice Mix]
[e] b2. 6am [Pugilist Remix]

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”

It’s time to embark on the next chapter of extra-terrestrial worldbuilding - the second instalment of Seismic Records is here. Stepping in is sonic explorer Pyramid of Knowledge a.k.a. K.O.P 32. Based in Seoul but born and raised in France, the Beyond The Bridge label head is blending his Tekno roots with an introspective approach to music, carving out a trademark sound led by pensive rhythms and psychedelic atmospheres. With fierce precision and spellbinding force - you’re invited to explore the unknown depths of your psyche as you enter the state of ‘Fusion’. In all its ominous grace, the journey takes off with ‘CFU’. A kaleidoscope-esque acid ritual is guided by subtle yet uptempo kicks, lifting us into the first phase of the cleansing. Followed by ‘Xer’, where an ancient chant introduces the next dimension of consciousness-expansion. The progression of energy tells us that the higher powers have bigger plans for us - a phase that is entered on the B-side. ‘TV’ surges in tempo and raises blood pressure with an annihilating paradox of the calm and the chaotic. For those who managed to withstand all phases of the occult test, reconciliation is near as ‘Yrots’ strikes down with a mind-warping drum workout for the body and soul. Enter the heart of a psychedelic odyssey and swirl into the labyrinthine pathways of your ego as you enter the Fusion by K.O.P. 32.

Throw the gauntlet: Fast Castle is back with Gent1e $oul’s “Shoals”-EP, our furthest excursion into the unexplored depths of mind-bending bassweight! Having perfected his build order on his recent “Block Printing'' and “Silk Armor”-EPs, Gent1e $oul continues to infuse his productions with sonic bass strategies over five versatile tracks.

“Dark Age” provides an aggressive opening, immediately applying pressure with nasty bass wobbles, dembow echoes and a 4x4 switch that might catch distracted players off guard. Tried and tested in many settings, this is an essential option for the incoming dancefloor rush!

With its heavy neo-stepper energy, ”Bad Neighbor” lays siege to dancefloor resistance with a piercing lead, breathing drums and powerful waves of sub wubs. Just like the AoE2’s legendary trebuchet of the same name, “Bad Neighbor” – paired with the right Soundsystem – will make the walls shake.

“Dusty Acer” is a homage to Gent1e $oul’s dear but aging AoE2 gaming machine, capable of producing similar noises to this dark UKG cuts’ central bassline.

Deep dubstep cut “Illumination” takes us to the for a wholesome mana refill: Mystic ambiences make you pull down your cowl, before diving into a fully blown sub massage.

The standout self-titled cut “Shoals” concludes the release: A deep-yet-powerful half-stepping perc grower at 160bpm, operating on subdued rhythmic shifts and layers.

As a special tribute to the AoE2 community, all tunes are flavored with the game's original sound effects. Thanks for keeping us inspired, Nili_Aoe for NAC5 and T90 for HC5!

On High Flying Man, the third LP by Matt Berry’s pseudo-eponymous project The Berries, loss and desire take center stage. Berry delves deep into 21st century malaise, crafting densely layered songs which project an unshakable yearning for deliverance from the world’s shortcomings. Each track extends an outstretched palm towards universal connection, blending a complex of mix of pop hooks, rock swagger, and psychedelia into dejected populist anthems. Faced with the perils of an isolating world, High Flying Man reignites the tradition of great American songwriting, speaking in the voice of the longing masses. At heart, Berry demands more life, rejecting both arty cynicism and nostalgic escapism.

Berry cut his teeth at a young age playing in the bands Happy Diving (Topshelf Records) and Big Bite (Pop Wig), and has since regularly served as a touring member for bands like Angel Dust and Dark Tea. His early work with Happy Diving and Big Bite solidified his position as an upcoming star in the world of fuzzed-out indie rock, earning him tours and opening slots with the likes of Turnstile, Dinosaur Jr., Nothing, The Swirlies, and The Coathangers. With The Berries, however, Berry turns the Big Muffs down (although not off), creating sonic space to stretch his wings as a burgeoning pop songwriter. The psychedelic-surrealist textures of his earlier output are not gone, per say, but rather find themselves folded into more expansive, rock-oriented arrangements, becoming accoutrements as opposed to the driving force of each song itself.

High Flying Man follows The Berries’ previous releases, 2018’s Start All Over Again and 2019’s Berryland. While longtime listeners will undoubtedly recognize Berry’s disaffected drawl and melodic sensibility, High Flying Man’s complex arrangements and expansive sonic landscape place it well apart from its predecessors. Berry enlisted live band members Danny Paul (drums), Emma Danner (backing vocals), and Lance Umble (bass) during the recording of High Flying Man, as well as the mixing talents of Rob Schnapf (Elliott Smith, Beck, Guided by Voices), breaking from the self-produced home recording ethos of the previous Berries LPs. The collaborative nature of High Flying Man’s recording process is reflected in the quality of each song’s arrangement. Freed from the pressure of being individually responsible for every detail committed to tape, Berry was able to focus his attention more fully on the creative demands of constructing a dynamic and cohesive record. High Flying Man pivots away from any sort of obvious nod to Americana tropes, baggy British attitude, or Neil Young-esque riffing, leaning head on into a lush, idiosyncratic grandeur.

Each track evokes the irreverent and flashy style of a songwriting voice finding itself for the first time. Berry’s guitar heroics extend towards new heights, channeling the simple pop mastery of Lindsay Buckingham (“Prime”) and the wicked emotion of a 21st century “November Rain” (“High Flying Man”). Unusual stylistic juxtapositions give certain songs an almost timeless quality: Bert Jansch-esque crooning finds its counterpoint in sweeping, distortion-soaked riffs (“A Drop of Rain”), the primitive rhythms of Amon Duul are given an arena-sized, Britpop facelift (“Life’s Blood”). On High Flying Man, however, the ballad reigns supreme. “Down That Road Again” drips with sentimentality, powered by soft, undeniable pop melodies and pared-down chord progressions. Album-centerpiece “Eagle Eye” teeters between pure grace and extreme sorrow, unfolding into a massive, immediately memorable tide of melancholic beauty.

Lyrically, High Flying Man is both simple and direct. Although often bitter about the state of the world, Berry has no overtly political axe to grind. In some instances, he takes jabs at the moral laziness of aging millennials, expressing his yearning for a return to vitality and conviction (“Prime”). In other instances, Berry turns his criticism inwards, examining his longing for a better life and his repeated tendency to self-sabotage (“Down That Road Again”). These two poles balance each other out, creating a thematic tenor which is more so self-implicating and empathetic than critical. If anyone is to blame, it is the world we have been saddled with, not the people left to pick up its pieces. Although often personal, Berry’s words evoke a universal experience of continued belief in the face of loss. “High Flying Man” chronicles the growing distance between Berry and an old friend who has been shipwrecked by the weight of trauma, evoking the sorrow of trying to love someone who is no longer able to keep up with reality. Even the most somber passages of “Eagle Eye” (“long before I become aware of it, my friend/it’s 6 AM and I’m gonna die”) find their redemption in a burning devotion towards something worth living for (“If there’s one thing I can depend on/it’s my old friend/my shining light/my eagle eye”).

With High Flying Man, Matt Berry embraces undying love in the face of isolation. Daring to want more life becomes a spiritual rallying cry against a world that has failed to make life either meaningful or beautiful. At their core, these songs are not about revolution, but they are about the faith that gives something like revolution a purpose in the first place.