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It takes BALTA seven minutes to annihilate Rendszerszintű Agybasz ás (Systematic Brainfucking), the debut EP by these feral Hungarians. Their approach to music is beyond urgent and their delivery equally drastic. BALTA’s sound is vicious, pounding and hectic. With one of the nastiest guitar tones to grace these ears in recent memory, and a drumming style that may collapse at any giving moment. Drawing parallels with PIÑEN, ULSTER, the first TRANQUILIZER Flexi, PLASMID or IMAGEN is fair, giving the total disregard for melody or time the band displays. But it is their anti-authoritarian lyrics and uber punk attitude that sets them on their own path; Searching for a primitive future amongst the concrete ruins.

Clock Poets returns with Get Down, the seventh release on the label and a floor-focused statement from Spanish producer Baltazar, based in Palma de Mallorca and founder of the Sapernika platform. Known for selecting and developing distinct, groove-centred voices from the underground, Clock Poets hands the reins to an artist who understands hypnosis, repetition and tension as tools rather than effects.

The A-side, “Get Down”, is a pumping minimal cut shaped by slightly tribal percussion loops and a locked-in groove that builds momentum through subtle shifts rather than overt peaks. Hypnotic male vocal samples circle like a mantra, weaving ritual into rhythm as the track steadily tightens its grip on the floor. On “Try On Trust Me”, the formula expands: a female vocal, washed in reverb and echo, floats between melodic textures and soft pads, creating a more spacious, emotive framework while maintaining the same disciplined drive and forward motion. Closing the record, “On My Way” dives deeper — a stripped-back 4/4 minimal construction infused with Arabic and double harmonic scale influences. Spatial, meditative and profoundly hypnotic, it stretches time and space, offering a moment of emotional suspension within the dancefloor continuum.

With Get Down, Baltazar doesn’t chase trends — he commits to groove, sophisticated repetition and unique atmospheres. In doing so, he both reinforces Clock Poets’ sonic identity and injects it with a fresh, trance-like intensity, proving once again the label’s consistency without predictability.

Under meters of concrete in central Cairo, a relentless buzz rebels and forms a melody. A tired man tunes his machines to catch a snatch of it, and accidentally creates a playground where these abandoned sounds can flourish. They develop a sense of humor and an acid tongue. A few children with bent ears find their way to an alley with an entrance to the playground. They would later describe what they heard as a delicious hybrid: one part cream, one part bubble gum. So, bend your ears and maybe you'll hear it too.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes.

The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process.

Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever.

The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before.


‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.

The first and most independent of all independent producers, Joe Meek needs little introduction. He was the first to chart in both the UK and the USA with an independently produced song -which was actually recorded in his home’s kitchen- when The Tornados' Telstar took the world in 1962. Meek was, of course, one of the most in vogue producers of the first half of the 1960s, providing the soundtrack to the evolution of UK Rock’n'Roll to Swinging London, scoring hits with actors like John Leyton (Johnny Remember Me), showmen like Screaming Lord Sutch and bands like The Outlaws and The Tornados. He also produced a wide stream of R&B and freakbeat 45s that are nowadays hardly sought after by the collectors with the biggest bank accounts.

Joe Meek experimented with all kinds of recording techniques in his home studio, his tricks and gimmicks won his productions chart placement and critical and public acclaim, but none of his projects was so advanced and way out as the avantgarde experimentation showed in his I Hear a New World electronic symphony from 1960. Aided by The Blue Men formed by Rod Freeman (group leader, guitar, vocals), Ken Harvey (tenor sax, vocals), Roger Fiola (Hawaiian Guitar), Chris White (guitar), Doug Collins (bass), Dave Golding (drums) -also known as Rodd-Ken and The Cavaliers- who provided a tight base to his electronically produced sounds, Meek came up with what he envisioned as the soundtrack of the future, the sounds he envisioned were to be heard in outer space. It was too way out for its time, certainly. To the point that of all the opus, only four tracks saw the light of day on a 7" EP released on Triumph, Meeks very own label. It wouldn’t be until 1991 that the whole recordings from the I Hear a New World sessions would see the light of day on a CD issued by the RPM label.

Wah Wah offers a new reissue of this now classic early electronics masterpiece, housed in a beautiful front-laminated back-flapped sleeve and offered as a limited 400 copies only black vinyl version and an ultra-limited 100 copies only transparent purple vinyl. Get yours before they fly!

RIYL : Delia Derbyshire and The BBC Radiophonic Workshop, Louis and Bebe Barron’s soundtrack to Forbidden Planet, Raymond Scott, Tom Dissevelt & Kid Baltan, Morton Subotnick…

The first and most independent of all independent producers, Joe Meek needs little introduction. He was the first to chart in both the UK and the USA with an independently produced song -which was actually recorded in his home’s kitchen- when The Tornados' Telstar took the world in 1962. Meek was, of course, one of the most in vogue producers of the first half of the 1960s, providing the soundtrack to the evolution of UK Rock’n'Roll to Swinging London, scoring hits with actors like John Leyton (Johnny Remember Me), showmen like Screaming Lord Sutch and bands like The Outlaws and The Tornados. He also produced a wide stream of R&B and freakbeat 45s that are nowadays hardly sought after by the collectors with the biggest bank accounts.

Joe Meek experimented with all kinds of recording techniques in his home studio, his tricks and gimmicks won his productions chart placement and critical and public acclaim, but none of his projects was so advanced and way out as the avantgarde experimentation showed in his I Hear a New World electronic symphony from 1960. Aided by The Blue Men formed by Rod Freeman (group leader, guitar, vocals), Ken Harvey (tenor sax, vocals), Roger Fiola (Hawaiian Guitar), Chris White (guitar), Doug Collins (bass), Dave Golding (drums) -also known as Rodd-Ken and The Cavaliers- who provided a tight base to his electronically produced sounds, Meek came up with what he envisioned as the soundtrack of the future, the sounds he envisioned were to be heard in outer space. It was too way out for its time, certainly. To the point that of all the opus, only four tracks saw the light of day on a 7" EP released on Triumph, Meeks very own label. It wouldn’t be until 1991 that the whole recordings from the I Hear a New World sessions would see the light of day on a CD issued by the RPM label.

Wah Wah offers a new reissue of this now classic early electronics masterpiece, housed in a beautiful front-laminated back-flapped sleeve and offered as a limited 400 copies only black vinyl version and an ultra-limited 100 copies only transparent purple vinyl. Get yours before they fly!

RIYL : Delia Derbyshire and The BBC Radiophonic Workshop, Louis and Bebe Barron’s soundtrack to Forbidden Planet, Raymond Scott, Tom Dissevelt & Kid Baltan, Morton Subotnick…

On limited double vinyl (500 ) with a download -

With Limited Edition A4 Heavy-Weight Space Art print (First 100 Copies Online) Signed & Numbered By Jon Savage (CTRUE48) Original Cover Artwork By Matt Sewell.

Jon Savage's Space - An amazing musical voyage through the theme and idea of Space - music for Space - Space - Music - Through West-Coast US Rock , Techno, Post-Punk , Jazz, Ambient & Experimental sounds-this is a journey like no other .. From Sun Ra to Mr Fingers and way beyond.

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"We are taken to less familiar musical quadrants-fascinatedly & instructively so"

(Roy Wilkinson - MOJO Feb 2025)

Nour Mobarak’s Dafne Phono is an adaptation of the first opera, Dafne, composed and written by Jacopo Peri and Ottavio Rinuccini in 1598. Drawing on the myth of Daphne and Apollo from Ovid’s Metamorphoses—a story of unrequited love, patriarchal possession, conquest, and transformation—Mobarak’s multimedia and multispecies reimagining splinters the opera’s Italian libretto. Alongside English and Greek versions, it is translated into some of the world’s most phonetically complex languages—Abkhaz, San Juan Quiahije Eastern Chatino, Silbo Gomero, and !Xoon. In this process, the narrative—and an artifact of Western culture—is dismantled, metabolized, and rendered into unruly utterances that shape the sensorium as much as they do the capacity for sense-making. These voices are given material form by a cast of mycelium sonic sculptures whose rhizomatic compositions and broadcasted recordings resemble the formation and mutation of language over time, reconstituting speech into a new, polyphonic body politic, composed of voices whose striking, poetic utterances transfix and transcend meaning.

The A-Side of the record presents a stereo version of Mobarak’s 15-channel sound installation, Dafne Phono. The B-Side uses a recording of a portion of the translation process the libretto underwent in Namibia, live-processed by the artist.

The LP is published on the occasion of Nour Mobarak’s exhibition at The Museum of Modern Art, New York (October 26, 2024–January 12, 2025), with support from Sylvia Kouvali.

Artist Bio:
Nour Pamela Mobarak (Lebanese-American, b. 1985, Cairo, Egypt) lives and works between Los Angeles; Bainbridge Island; and Athens, Greece. Her works have been shown at Sylvia Kouvali (formerly Rodeo), London/Paris; Schinkel Pavillon, Berlin; MIT List Visual Arts Center, Cambridge, MA; Amant, Brooklyn; JOAN, Los Angeles; Kim? Contemporary Art Centre, Riga; Miguel Abreu Gallery, New York; Hakuna Matata, Los Angeles; and Cubitt Gallery, London. Exhibitions at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, and Castello di Tivoli Museo d’Arte Contemporanea, Turin, are forthcoming. She has performed at Western Front, Vancouver; 2220, the Hammer Museum, and LAXART, Los Angeles; Cafe OTO, London; Renaissance Society, Chicago; the Museum of Contemporary Art, San Diego; and elsewhere. Her music has been released by Recital (Los Angeles), Cafe OTO’s TakuRoku (London), and Ultra Eczema (Antwerp), and she has had sessions on BBC Radio 3, NTS Radio, and Dublab Radio. Mobarak’s writing has been published in Triple Canopy, F.R. David, The Claudius App, and the Salzburg Review, and her first catalog, Sphere Studies and Subterranean Bounce was published by Recital (2021). She received a BA in English and Media Studies from Sussex University and did further studies at Université Paris-Sorbonne, Paris IV. She has held residencies at Denniston Hill, New York and the Institute of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles, and was the recipient of the 2023 FOCA fellowship award. Mobarak was a 2024 faculty at Bard College MFA program.

Dafne Phono Vocalists:
Apollo: Renato Grieco (Italian)
Cupid: Arnou Argun (Abkhaz)
Dafne: Agnes | xaye (!Xoon)
Ovid: Olivia O’Dwyer (Latin)
Venus: Don Eugenio Darias (Silbo Gomero)
Abkhaz Chorus: Liana Ebzhnou, Murman Guaramia, Fatima Kharzalia, and Gunda Osia
Chatino Chorus: Felix Daniel Peña Mendes, José Vasquez Canseco, Catalina Candelario Matias, and Claudia Garcia Baltazar
!Xoon Chorus: Franco Tsame, John Djujui Klosi Barase, and Charity Tsame
Clarinet: Steve Kado

Alfabet Records is the latest addition to the ABC family based in Arad, Romania, It emerges as a fresh and dynamic label dedicated to the world of minimal techno. Embarking on its musical journey, it exudes a palpable energy, aiming to enrapture enthusiasts of electronic soundscapes. diving into uncharted sonic territories, promising a symphony of stripped-down beats and mesmerizing rhythms.

The Athenian producer Aggelos Baltas alias Anatolian Weapons captures on the album Earth the feeling of an optimistic future that grows on the soil of the sweet bitterness of the present and the past.

Under his pseudonym Anatolian Weapons, Baltas combines polyrhythmic percussion and wailing tones of Greek folk music with a thrilling and open Krautrock attitude. The album Earth takes us on a mystical journey through the northern Greek highlands, backed by Baltas’ unique machine-assisted folk, infused with psychedelic drones and exuding an aura that is neither then nor now, neither there nor here. Instead, it exists in a small pocket of its own cosmos. A crossroads of dimensions. A mystical offering to nature and the divinities.

Baltas has explored and reframed various Greek scenes of yesteryear in the past, such as with his Fantastikoi Hxoi project, which created Krautrock mutations from 60s and 70s pop, but Earth is an even more far-reaching expedition. It is a folk reckoning with ancient Greek musical traditions with a modern upgrade. The album reconstructs a sonic narrative of ancient traditions, enhanced with psychedelic and space-rock elements. In the reverb cycle, one hears a certain agrarian reinterpretation of the world, filled with harvest rituals and celestial incantations.

It is with great pleasure to welcome Anatolian Weapons to the label. During a longer stay in Athens, a friendship developed that led to a variety of musical projects and ideas. One of them is the release of the album Earth.

Original soundtrack from the animated TV series 'Professor Balthazar' (1967 - 1978) by Tomislav Simovic.

Gatefold LP, cut from the original master tapes, liner notes by Zeljko Luketic and exclusive graphics by Boris Stapic.

Master tapes were considered lost; now found and restored for this unique release celebrating Yugoslavia's biggest cartoon export of the times.

Professor Balthazar was filmed from 1967 to 1978 in Zagreb. It was a huge international success: from large fan base in Scandinavia to broadcasting on USA television and countries like Germany, Italy, UK, France and even Iran. It's still aired on various TV programs and video platforms.

Animation style and content is widely praised for being one of the rare cartoons that does not feature any kind of violence or aggression. The character of Professor Balthazar solves problems in a peaceful way. He uses his inventions and science to help his friends. Distinctive visual influence is a crossover of bright, psychedelic colors, weird shapes and naive art, typical for Zagreb School of Animated Film. This soundtrack is mastered from original tapes, composed and conducted by Tomislav Simovic.

The music is busy, playful and mixes influences of jazz, modern classical and even electronica. Fox & His Friends Records, also the curators of the largest ever multimedia exhibition on Professor Balthazar series in Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in Rijeka as a part of the European Capital of Culture program in 2020, present the masters without any interventions in sound. This album cut includes longer rare version of main credits, made exclusively for Zagrebfilmijada, an event of public screenings of Professor Balthazar and other cartoons in cinemas in 1970's Yugoslavia.

Weaponize your DJ record bag again with fresh ammo from the Greek studio machine, Aggelos Baltas does it again with another volume of remixes to the Sound Metaphors re-issue catalogues, an invigorating contemporary club touch to a wide range of dance floor material that was originally produced in the early 90s and late 80s. A new patina layer formed by the aging acid baths and chemical reactions of the experienced studio magician. Aggelos' signature atmospheric grandiosity and big room sound once again delivered with precision and high efficiency for the caring modern dancefloor. Can't go wrong.

Icelandic composer Högni"s score for the much-acclaimed Netflix"s series Katla will see its full release on July 28. The series takes place in Iceland, after the subglacial volcano Katla has been erupting constantly for a whole year, Gríma is still looking for her missing sister who disappeared the day the eruption started. As her hope of ever finding her body is fading, the residents of the surrounding area start to have visits from unexpected guests. There might be something hidden under the glacier no one could ever have foreseen. Speaking about the score, Högni says: "when I was asked by Baltasar Kormákur - the director and show creator - I started writing so when the filming was finished, I had already written a number of pieces for the show. As relatively in-experienced in the field I imagined that my work was finished and the rest was a matter of post-production and music editing. However it immediately became clear that my ambitions and the nature of the project called for second, third and fourth wind in order to fulfil the auditory architecture that needed to be built". Realising it was a monumental task, Högni kept a strict schedule every day, starting by writing and arranging in the morning, recording and mixing in the afternoon and presenting to the producer each evening. The score was recorded in Högni"s own studio, where him and his collaborators consisting of Tóti Gudnason, Inga Magnes, Petter Ekman, _órunn Osk and Sigurgeir found themselves working in a completely different way than they"ve done before, due to the nature of the project - "we worked the music out of my studio in Reykjavik, where a healthy number of musicians rotated through at the pace of an average ice cream parlour on a long summers evening in Reykjavik. The urgency of delivering cues and material left one in the state of instinctual execution at all hours without hesitation".

Icelandic composer Högni"s score for the much-acclaimed Netflix"s series Katla will see its full release on July 28. The series takes place in Iceland, after the subglacial volcano Katla has been erupting constantly for a whole year, Gríma is still looking for her missing sister who disappeared the day the eruption started. As her hope of ever finding her body is fading, the residents of the surrounding area start to have visits from unexpected guests. There might be something hidden under the glacier no one could ever have foreseen. Speaking about the score, Högni says: "when I was asked by Baltasar Kormákur - the director and show creator - I started writing so when the filming was finished, I had already written a number of pieces for the show. As relatively in-experienced in the field I imagined that my work was finished and the rest was a matter of post-production and music editing. However it immediately became clear that my ambitions and the nature of the project called for second, third and fourth wind in order to fulfil the auditory architecture that needed to be built". Realising it was a monumental task, Högni kept a strict schedule every day, starting by writing and arranging in the morning, recording and mixing in the afternoon and presenting to the producer each evening. The score was recorded in Högni"s own studio, where him and his collaborators consisting of Tóti Gudnason, Inga Magnes, Petter Ekman, _órunn Osk and Sigurgeir found themselves working in a completely different way than they"ve done before, due to the nature of the project - "we worked the music out of my studio in Reykjavik, where a healthy number of musicians rotated through at the pace of an average ice cream parlour on a long summers evening in Reykjavik. The urgency of delivering cues and material left one in the state of instinctual execution at all hours without hesitation".

Sound Metaphors gives they keys of the label's catalogue vaults to Aggelos Baltas aka Anatolian Weapons and this is the result. 5 tracks previously released on our labels now submitted to the studio prowess of the Greek machine. Dubbed out, tripped out, slowed down, sped up, mind blown. Aggelos brings his distinctive flavor to the table and re-constructs some of our dacefloor oriented favorites from the early 90's. From California's Exist Dance label to Italian underground tracks and even a Disciples' number, Aggelos cherry picks his weapons for the most spaced out of dance floors, sounding big and effective, can't go wrong.

2012 album from the Italian/Norwegian Metal band. Mixing and mastering sessions featured Stefano "Saul" Morabito behind the knobs and Marchello Baltadjiev for the cover artwork. 11 tracks, 46 minutes of what can be easily defined as relentless death metal at its finest. The lyrical concept is based on John Carpenter's immortal masterstroke "They Live", dramatically relevant testimony of a dark era that never ended. credits

It is of course impossible, but we will risk it anyway, because this "Live In Paris" delivers her at her peak: eight tracks recorded at the Olympia between October 1956 and June 1957, and four others at Bobino, in March 61. The singer, who had just begun a film career (which she had not yet anticipated would be highly ephemeral), was at the height of her career. The time of the lean cows and the Taboo is over.

Now firmly established in the forefront of the great performers of French Song, we find her here singing Desnos, Queneau and Mac Orlan, alongside Brel, Trénet, Ferré and Brassens. And it's almost as if we were there: starting with a rare duet with Eddie Constantine, she is accompanied throughout by the quartet led by the piano of the faithful Henri Patterson, and the accordion of

Freddy Balta. In addition to Ferré's famous "Jolie Môme", she delivers here her famous version of Queneau and Cosma's "Si Tu T'Imagines", as well as Brel's "On N'Oublie Rien", and notoriously, Brassens' "Chanson Pour l'Auvergnat".

At the vanguard of Greek electronic music, Anatolian Weapons, an alias of Aggelos Baltas, has garnered praise from the likes of Lena Willikens and RA. This is a deliberately dancefloor oriented release, with a host of longacid laced tracks, and some surprises. The titles offer a subtle nod to a recently passed DJ and polymath, and the remixes give a fresh feelto Aggelos' tracks, with Serbian selector AASKA and Coma World on duty.