Sneaker Social Club News

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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?

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.

"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

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.