Buscar:bodie

Als Blackwater Holylight vor drei Jahren ihre Heimatstadt Portland, Oregon, verließen, war es ihr Ziel, der Tristesse des pazifischen Nordwestens und dem beruhigenden Komfort des Vertrauten zu entfliehen. Mit dem Ziel, das sonnigere Klima von Los Angeles zu genießen, fand sich die Band nicht nur in einer wärmeren Umgebung wieder, sondern auch in einer völlig neuen Landschaft - einer ohne Arbeitsplätze, langjährige Freundeskreise und die bequeme Zuflucht alter Gewohnheiten. Und genau hier, unbelastet von der Zufriedenheit der Sicherheit, begann Blackwater Holylight fleißig an ihrem vierten Album ,Not Here Not Gone" zu arbeiten. Wie schon ihre früheren Werke beschäftigt sich ,Not Here Not Gone" mit der Dualität von Licht und Dunkelheit - bedrohliche Riffs bilden das Fundament für betörende Melodien, dichte Wände aus Shoegaze-Gitarren paaren sich mit luftig-leichten Synthesizern, und schwere Themen werden durch sirenenhafte Gesänge vermittelt. Im Laufe des Albums verspürt der Zuhörer mal ein Gefühl der Stärke, mal ein Gefühl der Verletzlichkeit. Wie Schlagzeugerin Eliese Dorsay es beschreibt: ,In einigen Songs sind wir die Raubtiere, in anderen die Beute." Die Gegenüberstellung von Selbstvertrauen und Unsicherheit ist nirgendwo so deutlich zu spüren wie bei einer lebensverändernden Entscheidung, was vielleicht erklärt, warum der Umzug der Band ihr Studium der Kontraste auf ,Not Here Not Gone" zu neuen Höhenflügen intensiviert hat . ,Not Here Not Gone" wurde im Sonic Ranch außerhalb von El Paso, Texas, von Sonny Diperri (Narrow Head, DIIV, Emma Ruth Rundle) aufgenommen, wodurch die Band erneut ihre Komfortzone verlassen und sich an einem Ort isolieren konnte, an dem sie sich ausschließlich auf ihre Kunst konzentrieren konnte. Das Ergebnis ist das Kronjuwel von Blackwater Holylights Diskografie - eine reichhaltige und eindringliche Studie in tonalen Hell-Dunkel-Kontrasten, in der das Licht seinen Weg aus den Schatten findet.

The musical legacy of a night that will live on for years - Fermin Muguruza's 40th anniversary roar! Under the title "Akelarre Antifascista" (which literal translation would be "Anti-Fascist Witches' Coven", but loosely translated as Anti-Fascist Celebration), in a reference to the legendary Akelarre, a wild gathering of Basque witches, this album distils all the intensity, sweat and collective excitement of a night when thousands of voices joined together to celebrate not just a career, but a way of seeing art as resistance. On 15th February 2025, Madrid saw more than just a concert: it was a collective ritual, an anti-fascist demonstration in which thousands of voices came together as one to emphasize the tenacity of a voice that never surrendered. Four decades after lighting the fuse of combative rock in Euskal Herria, the Basque Country, Fermin Muguruza chose the capital of Spain, a city that closed its doors to him so many times and that he has described as "the heart of the beast", to make the definitive record of his 40th anniversary tour. The result is "Akelarre Antifascista", a live album that distils the history of a musical and political resistance that has spanned generations, languages and frontiers. The concert, sold out with 15,000 people, was an explosion of energy, memory and future. Right from the first chord, the Sports Palace of Madrid became an open setting, a free territory where bodies, rhythms, languages and flags mixed freely. Triple 180gr vinyl LP in trifold sleeve.

After two decades in the experimental music scenes of New York and Western Massachusetts, Wednesday Knudsen might be known equally as a sought-after improv collaborator and the vocalist and guitarist for the beloved long-running psych band Pigeons or, more recently, as a member of the New England psych-folk ensemble Stella Kola. Though her forthcoming release, Atrium, is Knudsen’s fifth solo album, it is both her first solo work to appear on vinyl and a double LP, marking her rich recording history with a stunning masterwork. Channeling the “atmosphere of presence” alongside the legions of Éliane Radigue, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Joanna Brouk, on Atrium, Knudsen plays it all—alto saxophone, flute, guitar, synth, piano, autoharp, bass guitar, and vocals. The collected compositions are studies in the tones, timbres, and pacing particular to the woodland environment of the Taconic Mountains where she lives. Atrium’s tracks are sculptural rather than ambient, with a release into the gorgeous hold of gravity that insists we don’t escape or drift away. This is music for remembering time. This is music that reinforces the power of art as resistance. The songs on Atrium distill our attention in a language that Knudsen calls “the opening of the heart,” reminding us that subsistence and community results from our own actions and engagement with our exterior. Atrium is a refuge, vital in our current moment and imbued with resonant power for our future.

Back when the first white labels started floating through the hands of German, British, American and Canadian DJs in late ’84, nobody was ready for what was coming. The official drop hit in early ’85 and the scene was never the same again. This was the moment Mike Mareen broke through the static. Yeah, he’d been working with Chris Evans-Ironside since the ’70s but nothing hinted that together they’d channel something this futuristic. “Dancing In The Dark” sounded like it had slipped through a wormhole: melancholic, hypnotic vocals wrapped in vocoder haze, riding an arrangement so razor-sharp it made most releases of the era feel prehistoric. It didn’t need the pop charts… It owned the clubs. And the clubs listened.

London. Berlin. Madrid. Rome. Paris. Lisbon. Amsterdam. Athens. Toronto. NYC. Tokyo. Mexico City.

One drop of that electro bassline and DJs were hooked. Crowds were hooked. The whole underground was hooked. Soon Europe’s radio charts caved under its pressure, and the track crossed borders on mixtapes, becoming a cult anthem behind the Iron Curtain. It was everywhere, even where it technically wasn’t allowed to be.

Fast-forward four decades and the spell hasn’t faded. “Dancing In The Dark” still shows up in indie dance, italo wave, house and deep house sets. Producers keep re-editing it like it’s sacred material. It’s one of those tracks that DJs treasure, a timeless weapon, one of the top three defining singles of Mareen’s entire career.

And now for the 40th anniversary of its official release, Vintage Pleasure Boutique and Night’n Day Records drop the vinyl every collector and selector has been waiting for: a special reissue loaded with four brand-new remixes spanning the full spectrum of today’s underground indie/disco/italo/house energy.

Tallac – the American Berlin dweller – dives deep into the hypnotic soul of the original, pulling out its buried deep-house DNA and carving out a spacious, emotional roller.

Luksek, Italian producer & DJ, goes raw and dirty: loop-driven, gritty, underground, hypnotic, the kind of edit that eats dancefloors alive.

Flemming Dalum, the Danish Italo grandmaster, finally gets to remix the track he’d always dreamed of touching and of course it’s pure Flemingish electro-italo magic.

And the Polish sparkle: A.P. Mono delivers a shimmering mix of italo disco, glitterbox groove, disco glamour and synthwave glow, all while keeping the spirit of Mareen’s original heartbeat intact.

The wax also features two historical heavy-hitters: the 1985 Jens Lissat’s team remix and Luis Rodriguez’s original arrangement, essential cuts in the Mareen universe.

This release isn’t nostalgia. It’s a resurrection. A celebration. A reminder. “Dancing In The Dark” didn’t survive 40 years by accident, it survived because it still moves bodies, breaks hearts and lights up floors in ways modern tracks can only wish for.

If you’re an indie, italo, wave, house or disco DJ… This record isn’t just worth owning… It’s mandatory.

“There's a clarity here that feels hard-won. Honing ideas first explored with his Organic Music series, Tiago Sousa unlocks the final puzzle pieces on Sustained Tones Vol 1. This music is enchanted, the way each layer moves in conjunction with the others: complex structures that feel less constructed than discovered, like stumbling upon ancient mechanisms still whirring beneath the earth. "Readily Reliance" opens as an effervescent sea, waves gilded in neon creating an enveloping sense of eternal motion. Bright organ timbres throw silhouettes and cast Sousa as the deft puppeteer keeping everything moving with an effortless precision. These evolving shapes suspend listeners somewhere between the physical and the cosmic, held in place by nothing but intention and sound.

Drones build rippling foundations in other places, using slower tempos to construct immersive, off-kilter sound worlds where minimalism becomes emotive, almost poignant. The fluctuating tones have a gossamer sheen, creating this interesting sonic dichotomy: a solid surface with fragile rotations beneath. It's music that commands attention; it is so much more than simply aural furniture. Sousa writes these beautiful sequences that are all interconnected, intricate sonic architecture that pulls us further into some kind of unknowable ether.

On the piano pieces, "Smooth Flow Into It" and "Swirling Mist and Thin Dust," Sousa shines sunlight through all the cracks. Washes of melody are effervescent, clouds clearing to reveal the day has not gone. Not yet. Positioned in the middle of Sustained Tones Vol 1, these pieces ground the album in something transcendent yet still earthen: moments of breath inside all that cosmic drift. Darkness finds its way through on "Restlessness," where Sousa smears sinuous electronics into a ghostly sonic mesh that seeps through the skin. It feels like a slow inhale, time suspended long enough to take note of where we are and how we feel before moving forward. Expressive, almost sparkling synth arrangements return to send us back into reality on closer "Becoming a Landscape." Its title hints at larger concepts at play throughout this album, where lines between our physical beings and the wider environment are blurred. The tones that echo throughout these six pieces mirror the echoes inside our bodies, from heartbeats and voices to something quieter, something much smaller and more elemental. By immersing us inside these mesmerising, beautiful soundscapes, Sousa immerses us within ourselves.’’

Brad Rose, 2025

2025 Repress

Plug into into the euphonic world of Shoal with his debut EP for Animalia, Temporal Blend. The Utrecht based producer dives head first into the release with his mesmerisingly warm, rich & silky-smooth groove, all characteristics that define his unique take on techno. A yin/yang essence threads the EP together with cosy, full bodied melodies, dynamic tempos & entrancing oddities throughout. It's this subtle & harmonious balance of flavours that make Shoal a pitch-perfect fit for the Animalia family.

Full of joy, they ran to meet him.
Then threw one of the shirts over each of them,
and when the shirts touched their bodies they were transformed into swans,
and flew away over the woods.
The record is comprised of a series of improvised recordings made over the course of an evening in Autumn ’23, captured at the Jabu home studio, south Bristol while Teresa was staying in town for a show. Everything was recorded into the desk in a single take and left as it was, no editing or overdubs, instruments were swapped around and effects units left buzzing ground hum scattered over the floor.
Teresa and Guest (Jasmine of Jabu) provided the vocals, taking words from anything at hand - poetry books, an old copy of the Whole Earth Catalog - their voices winding together, echoing out each other’s melodies. This approach is mirrored by the instrumentals, anchored by something at times - a bassline, one of Birthmark’s synth drones or a fizzing chord but always on the edge of collapsing in on itself or floating away. The tracks become more soporific as the record goes on (and as the night got later), ending on a refrain of ‘say you think its true’ as the instrumental finally dissolves the pedals get dialled up to 11 and Birthmark’s drones turn into distant lasers in a last swan song of feedback.
Recorded Sep 2023 in Bristol, BS3, by:
Teresa Winter (vocals, fx)
Guest (vocals, guitar, fx)
Birthmark (synth, fx)
A.Childs (samples, bass, guitar)

An’archives presents 'sensitive', a new album, and the first solo vinyl release, by Japanese keyboardist and synth player, Mitsuhisa Sakaguchi. A deftly assembled suite of glistening electronic tonalities, 'sensitive' is the latest in a lengthy run of excellent, idiosyncratic albums by Sakaguchi. A low-key yet productive artist, Sakaguchi has released banks of solo titles via his own Bandcamp page, and is also an in-demand improvisor for electronics: see, for example, recent collaborations with Yoshiki Ichihara ('TO(R)RI INFRANTA', 'Ftarri', 2025), Tatsuhisa Yamamoto ('non equal mad', self-released, 2020), and the - trio with Yamamoto and Uchihashi Kazuhisa ('self-titled', Modern Obscure, 2023).

'sensitive' is a startling album for many reasons, not least its rich attention to detail. Sakaguchi’s ear is sensitized to the complexity of electronic sonority, something he’s developed through decades of performance and improvisation, though he’s not limited to that language. “I mainly use multiple synthesizers and process the sounds with effects,” he clarifies, detailing his approach to his music. “I also use a lot of acoustic sounds such as field recordings and percussion; sometimes I also use sounds such as prepared piano.”

Indeed, you can hear this see-sawing balance between the electronic and acoustic written across 'sensitive' – see the activated cymbals that twist and stutter through the first half of “metatoxic”, which are soon replaced by a similar stream of burbling synth-flow. The opening “sensitive rot” folds field recordings into Sakaguchi’s electronic kit to such a degree that the differing forms dissolve into each other; on “green shrine”, the field recordings are more present, yet still poetically framed, taken as they are “from the mountains of my hometown, Yawata City, Kyoto,” Sakaguchi explains.

The tender balance achieved by Sakaguchi as he moves between practices, tonalities and temporalities helps manifest the guiding conceptual force behind 'sensitive', where Sakaguchi explores a cleansing reverie. “What I wanted to portray with this album was to create an album of sounds that shattered and reassembled my current ‘sense’ and ‘toxins’,” he nods, “along with the ‘nature’ around me. Electronic sounds, our bodies, the environment around us, and nature all blend.”

From there, Sakaguchi attempts a transformation, or transmutation – an alchemical process of exchange. “I am attempting to explore whether it might be possible for the sounds to come closer to each other,” he concludes, “or perhaps even to interchange places.” On the five pieces that comprise 'sensitive', you can hear this fusing and exchange. Inhabiting similar spaces as the music of Nuno Canavarro, Asmus Tietchens, Omit, and other like-minded visionaries, 'sensitive' traverses curious, quixotic terrain between electronic composition, electro-acoustics, and improvisation.

The scottish singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist James Yorkston and the english guitarist with a fluid fingerpicking touch, David A. Jaycock, already played together in the first formation of the experimental folk ensemble Big Eyes Family Players. Their encounter with Swedish saxophonist Lina Langendorf gives rise to a little gem of pure acoustic candour, perfectly balanced between chamber avant-garde and neo-folk. As on an endless autumn evening in front of a lake in Finland or Estonia, the trio's nordic soul creates atmospheres that recall hidden nostalgia. In a process of rarefied sound matter, elegiac paintings spring up, moments that flow slowly and silently in a tension that is always suspended and unresolved. Soft, crepuscular passages, at times sharp and cold guitar, but also the velvety breath of the nickelharpa, combine with a saxophone that still blows dramas of distant Norwegian fjords, but can also become more Mediterranean and arabesque. The music becomes like a warm warmth around the fire, reflecting a hidden twilight zone of the soul, in a quiet, gentle whisper between poetic abstraction and arpeggiated themes of more recognisable narrative melody, typical of a certain Northern folklore.
Co-Release with We are busy bodies.

"The Virgin Suicides", AIR's zweites Album und der unvergessliche Soundtrack zu Sofia Coppolas Regiedebüt wird zum 25. Jubiläum als "The Virgin Suicides Redux" neu aufgelegt. Ein brandneuer analoger Mix des Original-Albums verleiht den eindringlichen Klanglandschaften, die wie der dazugehörige Kultfilm über die Jahre an Bedeutung gewonnen haben, neue Tiefe. "The Virgin Suicide Redux" ist als analoges Vinyl-Album sowie in einem 2-CD/Blu-Ray Digipack erhältlich. Dieses Set enthält den neuen Analog-Mix von 2025, eine Blu-Ray mit dem Album in Dolby Atmos und eine Auswahl bisher unveröffentlichter Demos und Raritäten.

AF1268 is thrilled to welcome Nikol, the rising soundscaper from Manchester, for its third release. After making his mark on various outings for MASS, his own label, and O.C.D., this installment sees him deliver his first solo EP in full force. Across four meticulously crafted tracks, he chisels his own path through modern minimal and electro, honing his eerie yet hallucinatory sonic signature.

This EP unfolds like a spectral journey where Halloween meets tech-house—haunted by ghostly high-pitched whistlings, piercing acid stabs, and hypnotic rolling basslines. It conjures the image of a sweat-drenched, crumbling club cave under a rainy full moon, where bodies sway in slow motion, lost between dreamlike introspection and raw, unhinged grooves.

Lorelle Meets The Obsolete return with their seventh album. It's the Mexican duo's finest, most ferocious work to date which sees them turbo-charge their psychedelic post-punk with a new electronic engine. Mixed by Antoine Goulet (live sound engineer for SUUNS) and mastered by Mikey Young (Eddy Current Suppression Ring), the most obvious comparison in terms of mood and mode is Primal Scream's classic XTRMNTR, another record that processed personal and political conflicts and spat them out as distorted dance music. It shows the influence of the duo's DJ sets and last year's radical Remezcla remix collection on their way of thinking and why they are now namechecking the likes of Moor Mother, MF DOOM, Patrick Cowley, The Bug, Paula Garcés, Phil Kieran, Coby Sey, Run the Jewels and Anadol."Playing other artists' music is different," says Lorena Quintanilla about the change of direction towards the dancefloor. "You're not just listening, you're watching how energy flows and how it affects other people. It gives you the chance to witness what moves other bodies." And Corporal, as the title suggests, is all about the body. "The body is what carries the weight of stress, exhaustion, sadness. It's the body that the system breaks first," explains Lorena. "Unintentionally, while composing the album, our bodies were seeking joy in the songs. Reconnecting with pleasure became a way to open new dimensions - a way to escape, yet remain present." The theme is carried over into the lyrics which, according to Lorena, variously refer to "the bodies that disappear, the abused bodies, the bodies we miss, the bodies that march together in protest, the bodies that are being controlled".

'Songs and Bodies' is best described as hypnagogic post-rock, an impressionistic blur of dissociated riffs, jazzy rhythms and half-heard voices that casts a beguiling digital silhouette of '90s indie music. The album began as a personal experiment, a question that emerged as Piotr Kurek cast his mind back to the era that birthed bands like Gastr del Sol, Bark Psychosis, Labradford and The Sea and Cake. Curious how this music might sound in today’s cultural climate, he started recording sketches at home on guitar and keyboard, applying the same advanced processing, editing and manipulation techniques that had nourished his last run of albums. Early on, he brought in drummer Mateusz Rychlicki and bassist Wojciech Traczyk, layering their performances into the evolving material. These ideas might have remained in that unvarnished state had Unsound not suggested a live performance of the work in October 2024. Spurred by the invitation, Kurek hardened his resolve, finishing a crumpled, uncanny set of half-songs that extend the chimerical sonic universe of the jazz-inspired 'Smartwoods' and its baroque predecessor 'Peach Blossom'.

Not an exercise in nostalgia, 'Songs and Bodies' is an examination of the '90s and '00s experimental rock canon that isolates its humanity as the world stares down a new technological dawn. At a glance, Kurek's songs are remarkably organic, diaphanous guitar-led meditations embellished with era-specific organ and electric piano vamps, cryptic vocal utterances and dusty drums, but it's all an illusion. Listen a little closer and the wrinkles appear—the robotic, garbled articulations, awkward tempo fluctuations and charming hiccups.

Kurek distills these vulnerabilities and blemishes to present a deeply personal but relatable abstraction of familiar sounds and gestures. It's the closest the composer has come to old-fashioned songwriting, but the end result is the same: an invitation to look beyond the frosted glass of an increasingly digital existence.

2025 Repress

DJ Koze exists both above and beyond club culture as we know it - his albums and remixes flying free from genre and trend - and symbiotically woven into its heart. Yes, he always abstracts and weirds out the principles of house, techno, hip hop, pop, psychedelia, exotica and so forth, but he does that because he understands them. And when it comes to club-demolishing tracks, he understands those principles as well as just about anybody on earth. Thus he could create an enduring club tune like 2015's 'XTC' that is strange, contemplative, even disturbing, bore little relation to anything around at the time, yet still got bodies moving and sweating better than way more obvious techno bangers. And thus the Knock Knock album, which melts a million genres and none into one another, can comfortably include 'Seeing Aliens". 'Seeing Aliens' unquestionably is a banger, its bass riff snaking around your body like a python, its high-drama strings, pianos and outbursts of noise designed for maximum crowd pressure release. But, again, it sounds like nothing else, and its dynamics and twists unfold over eight and a half minutes in ways that will mess with your head every time no matter how many times you hear it. The exclusive b-side track, 'Nein König Nein' ("No King No"!), meanwhile, is slightly gentler on the face of it: it's less about sonic pressure, more about hip-shaking syncopation. But it too tells strange fairytales in its peculiar and brain-tweaking accumulation of detail, and though you'll hear archetypal sounds from the heart of house and disco in it, every last one of them becomes new and otherworldly.

"Marionette presents Mélodies pour Clairons, the debut album by multidisciplinary artist Ioa
Beduneau. Based in the South of France, Ioa’s world is rooted in creation - building intricate
self-playing installations and handmade DIY electronics. His practice is driven by a desire to
connect, challenge, and open up dialogues around disability and other social constructs.
Proudly identifying as a disabled artist who is attuned to how our bodies interact with the world,
Ioa brings a fresh and inimitable perspective to electronic and electroacoustic music.
On Mélodies pour Clairons, Ioa contemplates lifeforms using modular synths, channeling
principles of physical modeling and bioacoustics. Ideas begin on paper and evolve into sound,
forming an abstract yet intentional sonic ecosystem. Clairons refers both to a musical instrument
and to a loved one with whom this music was shared, serving as a kind of sound diary during
the stillness of the pandemic. The movement of air, pressure, resonance, and the physical
properties of the clairon (a medieval trumpet) are reimagined and manipulated on this album,
resulting in impressionistic and deeply moving compositions with poetic sensibility. Organic
ASMR tones, synthesized bird calls, and pirouetting melodies of pipes and bells score an
imaginary biodome where chaos and harmony coexist. Striking and singular, these works
embody the kind of boundary-pushing music that defines Marionette."

The first ASFON release has been a year-long labour of love that has come into being from what felt like a lucid dream, off in the distance, too crazy to believe was real. From our first meeting in the Freerotation yurt to late-night exchanges in Bristol, Winkles (Jamie Slater) has been sharing tracks that lingered long after the party ended. Their raw textures and warped sense of time found a natural home in our sets, eventually leading to the emergence of ‘The Unavoidable EP’, a collection of four diverse tracks which form a singular, immersive experience.

On A1 journey, The Unavoidable Consequence Of Familiarity, a knocking kick opens the door to this new sound world, introducing us to the granular clicks, crazed telephony and vocoded grunts which populate the deep space of Winkles’ imagination. Machines whir and perception shifts in the space between distant synth stabs, while a pulsating bassline battles to break through the filter and create a throbbing low end. Hallucinatory and deep, this is the perfect introduction to both the EP and the ASFON outlook.

Semi Stretches sees Winkles pick up a signal from beyond the outer rim, fire up the hyperdrive and lock into the rolling hum of intergalactic techno. Juggernaut bass forms the perfect counterpoint to the rapid fire rim shots trembling away up top as this Venusian club craft battles static, drives through the milky cosmic and transports the dancing bodies to a Multicoloured Plasticine Universe.

Cutting the engines and switching to suspended animation, Winkles lets us drift through a hazy dream-space where there’s no up or down, where twinkling arps, insectile electronics and hazy sirens coalesce into a psychotropic swirl.

Out of this multicoloured mirage comes Osaka-based astral traveller Erik Luebs, who translates that peak-time ambient bubbler into a Balearic chugger which emerges from the ether to add another dimension to the EP. Rubberised bass, velvet pads and nuanced percussion ensure this is perfect for poolside play in a land of pink sand and sideways tides.

Monolith 45 series I

A new chapter emerges within Organic Signs.Conceived as a vessel dedicated to a single frequency, Monolith 45 is born to trace the lineage of progressive trance — that tribal, hypnotic, and ceremonial sound that carved its path during the early 2000s, and which today we reclaim with reverence.

Each release stands as a stone marker along this continuum: timeless signals that resonate equally with memory and vision. As with the broader work of Organic Signs, this new line will follow a dual path: rescuing forgotten gems from the past while also curating new music that embodies the same spirit.

Monolith 45 becomes the place where past and present intertwine, shaping a narrative that honors tradition while opening new doors for exploration.

The first monolith in the series carries with it two totems of the genre:
On the A-side, Magnetrixx – Intraferences, originally released in the year 2000 on the legendary Tatsu Records. Behind this moniker stands Stefan Lewin, not only a key architect of the progressive trance sound but also the mind behind ACL (Audiophile Circuits League), one of the most special modular synthesizer brands..

His work bridges eras: from shaping the trancefloor at the turn of the millennium to designing instruments that define modern electronic creation.On the B-side, Ticon – Lo Mi Hi, a track that saw the light in 2001 on Digital Structures, one of the most influential labels of that era.

Ticon are nothing short of mythical within this universe — pioneers whose sound blurred borders between deep grooves, psychedelic textures, and progressive structures, leaving an indelible mark that still resonates with dancers and producers worldwide.

With Monolith 45, we seek not only to preserve these transmissions but to project them into the present: to reawaken a sound that was always more than music, a tribal pulse, a ritual language that invited bodies and minds into collective trance.
This is our homage, our offering, and our way of extending the path forward.