quête:dr space

Frankfurt am Main -- Leipzig duo not even noticed deliver their long-awaited debut album space beyond noise - a 12-track journey balancing club functionality with immersive, long-form listening.

Shaped by years of touring and a shared ritual of visiting botanical gardens around the world, the album blends shapely grooves, field recordings and warm melodic textures into a cohesive, lived- in sound. Subtle environmental details run throughout, creating a natural flow between tracks.

Musically, it moves between electro-funk, breakbeat and hip-hop- inflected cuts, with downtempo and dubby excursions. Highlights include the driving “chrone,” the sundown groove of “diras,” the acid-tinged “plune,” and the hazy two-step moment “skum.”

Designed with warmer months in mind, space beyond noise captures the balance between dancefloor energy and home listening depth.

GiGi FM is going back to her first love, Jungle. It’s one of the defining genres that shaped her journey into music. The DJ, music producer, dancer and poet is releasing her first jungle EP, Shelter Our Time on her label Sea-rène.



Following her 2025 techno EP Virgo Space Acid, GiGi FM turns inward on these 5 deeply personal, pop-infused liquid drum & bass tracks. It also marks the first time GiGi prominently centers her own lyrics and singing at the emotional core that thread the rhythm and movement of the music.



Written during a period of enforced stillness, the record became a form of transportation to imaginary realms; warm sunsets, liquid horizons and underwater dreamscapes that became portals to spaces where GiGi’s mind could still move freely.



Beyond its warmth, Shelter Our Time became a space of processing. The music acted as a catalyst – transforming experience into rhythm, memory into melody. For GiGi, music has always been a form of therapy, a way to metabolize life in real time. As she puts it, “It’s about learning to hold joy and pain in the same body and choosing to keep dancing anyway.”

Spectral Bounce’s latest offering comes direct from Norway, courtesy of Anders Hajem — co-founder of Boring Crew Records. To date, the Oslo producer’s previous releases have been vessels for the exploration of myriad dance musics, seeing the artist fluently turn his hand to soulful house, dub techno and 2-step.

SPEC07 — the Myr EP — is a much more focused affair, finding Hajem in techno mode across 4 potent cuts typified by undulating drums and swelling echoes. Despite its emphasis on percussion, atmosphere has not been sacrificed for rhythm: vivid FX and meticulous attention to detail bring these tracks to life beyond the context of the dancefloor. This is music that can be stepped into and explored, productions that reward repeat listens.

Opening at full throttle, “Myr” is a jackin’ percussive workout, harnessing punchy drums for maximum effect. Its pulsating low-end runs in tandem with trembling synths that perpetually reflect and refract in the stereo field. Atop its rolling drums, hardgroove-inflected “Sprett” utilizes timestretched vocals, cavernous reverb and ecstatically quivering tones, elevating this 2000s-era framework to new heights. “Existence” brings things to a deeper and more hypnotic place: delays are turned up, siren calls reverberate and timbres ebb and flow. Hajem goes more chasmic still on “Concussion”, hitting the brakes for a much slower cadence and allowing space for a truly expansive listening experience. Heady and mystical, entrancing and otherworldly — listen close enough; beneath the dizzyingly shifting pulses and rattling drums you’ll hear incantations, while bass tones pulse in the depths.

SPEC07 — immerse yourself!

Credits:
Art by Susanne Janssen
Mastering & Cut by Marco Pellegrino @Analogcut
Words by Cameron Leaf

One of the UK’s rising talents in recent times, J6 continues his upward trajectory with an enormous four-tracker on underground fan favourites, Locked In Dam. The party starting crew go hand in hand with the refined J6 ethos, as he delivers a dynamite selection of tracks for your record bag. His familiar low end driven sound, combined with tinges of acid and futuristic textures moving between house and modern electro, shapes the ‘Devil Baby’ EP into a cohesive and powerful statement.

The title track is built upon powerful drums and squelchy, spaced-out tones, combined with trippy vocal stabs from Martina, who features on the record. This is prime J6 territory and not to be underestimated. Next up, ‘Biohazard’ introduces mysterious synths that create a transcending atmosphere, shifting the dance floor into the next gear with further twisted acid movements. On the flip side, the Manchester based beatmaker teams up with Ben Gough for ‘Time Capsule’, delivering pacey energy that never lets up, driven by nostalgic tech house drums and icy hi-hats. Rounding off the EP, ‘Emergence’ simmers with an emotive dark energy throughout; if we weren’t dancing with the devil before, we certainly are now.

A certain tip for the tastemakers amongst us, these are four dynamic dance floor cuts to be shared deep within the dark realms of the night.

With Hyperbola, Laima Adelaide frames speed as a condition of softness rather than impact. The fan- tasy of flying through the air with effortless move- ment forms its emotional core, as tracks move fast, yet nothing collides: rhythms skim the surface, tex- tures hover, and motion unfolds through glide inste- ad of strike. Energy is continuous and diffused, pro- ducing propulsion without aggression, momentum without weight.

The hyperbola operates as both image and method. Sounds trace curved trajectories, drawing close only to diverge again, suspended in a state of gentle tension. Elements never resolve into force, they re- main airborne, elastic, and permeable, as if shaped by an invisible geometry. Across the EP, velocity becomes a tool for lightness, revealing an ethereal space where motion is elegant, friction dissolves, and intensity is carried through grace rather than pressure.

Credits:
Mastering by HWA
Artwork and Graphic Design by Enrico Caldini
Distributed by One Eye Witness

Two legends from New York City here for the price of one, as Downside Up Recordings boss Brandon De Carla - noted for his incendiary PAs and DJ sets around the Big Apple from the 90s onwards, as well as releases for labels as luminary as Kevin Saunderson's KMS - enrols the even more celebrated Joey Beltram to add a remix to his three originals here. De Carla's productions sure are uncompromising, not so much as inviting you onto the dancefloor as prodding you on with their itchy, wriggly sense of metallic funk and spaced out atmospherics, especially the latter on the beatless but substantial, grungy DJ tool that is closing track 'Valley Of The'. Beltram's mix, meanwhile, is pinned down by handclaps that sound like they were forged in a steelworks, but again manage to wrangle a sense of irresistible funkiness from the heaviest duty ingredients. Proper 3am techno gear, make no mistake.

Winding Road Records are proud to present the “Last Disco on Earth EP” from the ever-elusive group of “Mar De Novo” which is M & N, Paraiso and Yse Saint Laur’ant. First up on this EP is the title track ‘Last Disco on Earth’ is a monster slab of modern disco. Fat grooves, cheeky melodies and cool glitchy production. Uplifting, positive and energetic - guaranteed to put a smile on the dancefloor. Next up is ‘Over There’ is a twisted slice of bass-heavy undulating house, punctuated by crazy interludes and samples that fly in from nowhere. Starting things off on the B side is ‘Uncanny Valley’ is a sun-kissed downtempo groover, with dreamy strings and wonderful chilled musicality. Following on from that is ‘Reflection’ exudes space, peace, and calm. Guitars and piano intertwine alongside haunting vocals. Soundtrack bliss. Summer vibes. Finally rounding off the EP is ‘Find Love’ rounds off the package with a dreamy balearic sunset vibe.

Marlon George is a British DJ and producer based in London renowned for his "slightly spacey, casually jazzy, and fully groovy house music," with support from names as illustrious as Kyle Hall and Jimpster. But really, if he's getting signed by the legendary Trelik, then that's all you need to know about his skills. He lays them bare across three tasteful cuts here, starting with the liquid dub of 'My Secrets Are Safe With Me' with its wispy shards of light piercing the water's surface and glistening against the dusty hi-hats. 'Najagen' has more drive but no less depth and warmth to it and 'Do The Rha!' is another smoky, minimal, heady dub house roller that sneaks right under your skin.

So… what are we actually supposed to tell you about HCL? Honestly, it’s a pretty nice story. A collaboration the way it’s meant to be.

HCL stands for Horkheimer, Consti aka Zeitstill, and Delenz — not hydrochloric acid, but liquid music. One shared idea of sound, without a fully mastered plan. Most of the tracks were born during long studio sessions — long nights, extended jams, ideas taking shape naturally. No big concept, just working it out together and seeing where things go (or not).

After the first two HCL tracks found their way onto various samplers — including the 25 Years of Live at Robert Johnson compilation and Freeride Millennium’s own Queer Base Vol. 2 — it felt like the right moment to take the next step and release the first pattern. Not as a conclusion, but more as a checkpoint. This is far from the end. There are more patterns, more sessions, more ideas already waiting to be published.

Describing the genre is, as always, not that easy. It drifts somewhere between techno and all the other things orbiting around it. Purely electronic music, rooted in the club, but not obsessed with functionality. In a way, it reminds us of the early 2000s — deep, slightly twisted, hypnotic, driving but never aggressive. Music that takes its time, creates space, and pulls you in rather than pushing you forward.

For moments that are meant to last — tracks you don’t want to hear mixed out. For getting lost on the dancefloor, for forgetting the noise and madness outside for a while, for drifting into yourself and letting time fly. Honest club music, built for immersion.

Enjoy the music. Enjoy yourself. Love.

Yours, HCL

“ It’s like a more psychedelic , organic KLF Chill Out with deep roots and cosmic overtones“ Richard Norris

“ A beautiful trip “ Jem Finer

D.E.N 01 LAND - Composer Danny Hammond
Land is the first in a series of earth inspired sonic journeys , part sound meditation , part immersive psychedelic nature trip. Incorporating field recordings , shack instruments and spoken words from cosmic adventurers .

It originated as an installation at the 14 Hour Technicolor Drone event in Sept 2025 whereby all listeners fell into a deep nature/dream slumber.
For fans of Pauline Olivieros ,Brian Eno , Terry Riley , Don Cherry , Barbara Hepworth , Alice Coltrane , John Betjemin and all other ambient adventurers.

D.E.N
Deep Earth Network is a long term sound project exploring deep-listening , drone and sonic adventure , all inspired by the earth in all its manifestations , land , water , space , consciousness. Initiated by Danny Hammond , D.E.N will present different sonic projects and collaborations from vinyl / audio releases to sonic installations with the aid of The Deep Earth Soundsystem and the Sonic Heads ( S.H ) a collection of sculpted head audio transmitters.

Following their 2023 LP Presents, Nathan Nelson's American Cream Band bring the Twin City heat back to Quindi with an album rooted in duality. From the yin and yang party-starting A side and meditative B side to the dual-attack boy-girl vocals, the nature of opposites and equals steer the expansive, artful strain of rock n' roll that spill out of this wholly unique Minnesotan export. For the ever intriguing Quindi, it's a strident step into Spring after the frosty introspection of Roudi Vagou & Läuten der Seele's Taghelle Nacht. While the world burns and injustice prevails, Twin is a celebration of unity and radical expression-all the more urgent against the backdrop of authoritarian overreach and righteous protest that has whipped through Minneapolis in recent times.
Twin continues Nelson's drive at the helm of American Cream Band to draw in a colourful cast of players to feed into his orgiastic sound, meshing the trance-induction of krautrock with the irrepressible funk of the post-punk-new-wave explosion. But principal among the cast of characters and forming a central tenet to the identity of this album is Liz Buhmann, lead vocalist and a formidable, playful foil to Nelson's own Midwestern twang. Around the electric spark between Buhmann and Nelson, a heavy duty ensemble wrangle guitar, bass, sax, a cornucopia of synths and a battery of percussion into all manner of sonic forms.
The double-sided concept manifests throughout Twin. On 'Call Me' Buhmann sings in French to contrast Nelson's English, while the strident strut of the NYC disco groove is offset by an inherent dreaminess that turns the track into a more cosmic kind of dancefloor workout. 'Ethical Vampire' is a spiky cut with a garage rock patina that spirals into a psychedelic, synth-soaked get-down. 'Don't Burn The House Down' is a loose and limber roller that captures Can at their funkiest along with the hypnotic vibe of other such esteemed long format jammers, but American Cream Band boils that energy into a hook-laden art pop sensibility before a gentle, drawn out landing.
Even the more pensive moments on Twin find space for friction. For all its tender, smoky temperament, 'Leda and the Swan' lets the electric piano and guitar fray at the edges and bleed into the red while Mat Heinrich's tumbling drums lurch with pent-up intensity on the one. 'No Funeral Necessary' skirts around the mellow pools of new age but prefers to let liberally doused Tape Echo tweak out Alex Meffert's honeyed sax inflections and Buhmann and Nelson's disparate sermons.
Nelson describes Twin as "an oppositorum coincidentia" - a reference to the mystical Latin concept of the coincidence of opposites that suggests contradictory ideas 'fall together' in a higher reality. Beyond the sound of the album, this idea also manifests in the cover photography by Sho Nikado and the swans on the LP labels by Autumn Garrington. As freewheeling and wide-open as American Cream Band feels, nothing appears by accident. The end result feels like a nourishing whole - rich with substance and nuance, deep enough to be explored and absorbed yet also so brazen and immediate you can't help but feel its surface charms from the first thrusts of 'The Hive Is Pissed' to the last ripples of 'We're Not So Sinister'.

If – in some parallel universe (or perhaps a not-so-distant-future version of the one we’re already sentenced to living in) – the evil overloads of artificial intelligence were actually successful in their attempts to create convincingly enjoyable “original music,” more specifically tasked with wholly encapsulating my own personal tastes by data-chugging some cocktail of – oh, I don’t know – the posters on my wall, the records in my “most listened to” pile, the mixtapes I made for others, intensive physical scans of my auditory cortex, amygdala, hippocampus, heart strings, whatever else they have splayed out on their autopsy table with the intention of generating one all-encompassing “perfect band” based on the fruitful sum of their findings – that band, for me, would be (or would at least sound exactly like) the Tara Clerkin Trio. It is, quite simply, without exception, the music I wish to hear.

Formed in Bristol UK (where none of them are from yet all of whom are deeply engrained) in 2020, the Tara Clerkin Trio – as it somewhat democratically exists today, despite the singular authority implied by its name – consists of the titular Tara Clerkin, her partner Sunny Joe Paradisos, and Sunny’s brother, Patrick Benjamin. I’ll confess, I don’t know what their respective roles are within the operation and there’s only a very small part of me that cares to learn, as one of my favorite qualities in an objective listening experience is the mystery of who is playing what, which sounds are “authentic” versus synthesized, which chunks are performed “live” in a room together versus meticulously Frankenstein’ed from measure to measure, or how exactly the overall sound is so (seemingly) effortlessly achieved. Though, I suspect, if and when I do witness a live performance by this band at any point, my enjoyment of the music will not be lost in my better understanding of it.

With two extraordinary mini-albums – In Spring (2021) and On The Turning Ground (2023) – making a splash on London’s formidable World of Echo label in wake of their self-titled 2020 debut, this upcoming Somewhere Good LP is, in many ways, the band’s most realised work. In running their usual gauntlet of idiosyncratic (*an overused adjective for which here there is regrettably no sufficient alternative) approaches, Clerkin & co. colour in and outside of compositional lines over the course of 40+ celebratory minutes - never wallowing, despite inherently somber subject matters of self-defeat, disease, displacement, restlessness, gentrification - allowing their arrangements and improvisations ample space and time to situate, stretch out, breathe, cross-pollinate, and ultimately take deeper hold on the listener’s imagination – all while somehow sounding more like themselves than ever before.

Of course, there are traceable influences herein, if one felt that such comparisons were necessary to properly examine and enjoy this music (they aren’t)… Being the big dumb American from the small boring town that I am, cornfed on ‘90s alternative radio with the enchantingly exotic sounds of Maxinquaye and Mezzanine emanating from my chunky tube television, I can’t help but to make a blatantly obvious reference to a “Bristol sound”, ie the whole trip-hop trip, the pastoral crooning over the suggestive urban grime of cracked electro/piano treatments, the digitally-yet-primitively reconstructed James Bond soundtrack string-beats, etc.. But the Tara Clerkin Trio is so infinitely much more than that. There are elements of avant-pop, modern classical, kraut-folk, audio verité, dare I say indie rock (and not of the beer guzzling, masturbatory fuzz-flex variety but perhaps more like a Trish Keenan-fronted Faust, Adrian Sherwood at the mixing desk of If You’re Feeling Sinister, or – in expanding on our alternate reality – a world in which High Llamas cut a full-length for Warp Records with Andrew Weatherall on coffee duty).

The hazy, unmappable skyline-mirage of droning harmonium, upright bass, peculiarly accentuated wind instruments, acoustic guitar, hushed yet literally mighty keys combine to hypnotizing effect. The band may make underlying nods to jazz, sure, but it’s not appropriation, it’s that they have the actual chops to build it out. Beneath the janky samples and oddball percussive embellishment lies actually great drumming. Beyond the manipulated vocal witchery and woefully reflective plain-spoke moments are Tara’s subtly inspired melodies, sung with what might honestly be the glue to the whole crazy equation. A calming consistency throughout the otherwise unpredictably dynamic, boldly intuitive, uniquely British exploration of this (their own) universe in song. – Ryan Davis (Chicago, February 2026)

With »News from Planet Zombie«, The Notwist return to view after years of exploration and experiment with an album rich in both melancholy and positivity, sketched across a suite of thrilling, fiercely committed pop songs. It’s an album reflecting a chaotic world, but responding with warmth and generosity, to achieve creative and spiritual consolidation. Recorded in their home base of Munich, it reconnects with the security of the local to explore the troubles of the global: a guiding impulse writ large across this album’s eleven songs. It’s also the first studio album since 1995’s »12« that the entire band recorded together in the studio in its expanded live formation.

A new album by The Notwist is always a curious endeavour; their musical language is as consistent and resilient as the contexts for creativity are unpredictable and ever shifting. For »News from Planet Zombie«, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck embraced the plural possibilities of writing together, bringing songs to the collective and then arranging, rehearsing and recording that material live, in the studio.

The result is an album that’s energised, fully in ›the now‹, with spectacular moments where you can hear the magic bubbling up in the dynamic between the Achers, Beck, and fellow members Theresa Loibl, Max Punktezahl, Karl Ivar Refseth, and Andi Haberl. If »Teeth« begins »News from Planet Zombie« quietly and reflectively, by »X-Ray« everyone’s supercharged, blasting out future anthems with the collective energy cranked up high. The chiming keys of »Propeller« skim the instrumental’s surface like stones across burbling water; »The Turning« clangs its way into one of the album’s most heartwarming melodies.

»News from Planet Zombie« was recorded over one week at Import Export, a non-profit space for arts and music. You can tell, too; there are some pleasingly rough edges here, as though The Notwist’s striving for hazy perfection means they’re also confident enough to let the songs breathe and mutate between our ears. That openness to chance also takes in guest turns from friends both local and international, reflective of a cosmopolitan Munich: Enid Valu joins in on vocals, while Haruka Yoshizawa guests on taishōgoto and harmonium, Tianping Christoph Xiao on clarinet, and Mathias Götz on trombone.

The Notwist aren’t best known for cover versions, but »News from Planet Zombie« features two: a gorgeous version of Neil Young’s »Red Sun« (from 2000’s »Silver & Gold«), which the group originally developed for a theatre play directed by Jette Steckel, and a take on Athens, Georgia folk-pop gang Lovers’ »How the Story Ends«. They slot into the album’s narrative perfectly, nestling in like old friends, revealing The Notwist as poetic interpreters. Played well, the cover version is both acknowledgement of fellow travellers and act of generosity, and The Notwist nail both aspects here.

And that narrative, the way the album plays out? »News from Planet Zombie« acknowledges the distress of our current geopolitical impasse, while reminding us there are collective ways forward. Fed through the figure of the zombie, Markus Acher explores our anxieties: »In the title and some lyrics I reference B- and horror-movies, which is a reference to the crazy world at the moment, which seems to be like a really bad and unrealistic B-movie.« But there’s a reminder here not to lose the thread entirely, that these things, too, will pass.

»The river here in Munich I often go to has been there forever and will be there long after us,« Acher reflects, pinpointing an important source of succour for him, »always the same but always changing. Very calming, but also always reminding me that like this river time only flows into one direction and you can’t go back. Every moment is very precious.«

Artwork by Marie Vermont

The Notwist:
Markus Acher: vocals, guitar
Micha Acher: bass, sousaphone, euphonium, trumpet
Cico Beck: electronics, keyboards, guitar, recorder, percussion
Theresa Loibl: bassclarinet, clarinet, piano, harmonium, organ
Max Punktezahl: guitar
Karl Ivar Refseth: marimbaphone, vibraphone, glockenspiel, congas, percussion
Andi Haberl: drums, dulcimer
+
Enid Valu: vocals on 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11
Haruka Yoshizawa: taishōgoto on 6, harmonium on 9, 10, 11
Tianping Christoph Xiao: clarinet on 4, 10, 11
Mathias Götz: trombone on 4, 10, 11

Ltd Edition 10"

Budapest based concept label Blue Sun welcomes formerly independent local afrobeat-jazz ensemble to its catalogue with a nuanced 4 tracker EP. The release not only marks the beginning of the collaboration, but a definite new musical direction in the band’s life.

Written in a one week jam session retreat in the Hungarian countryside, and recorded at one of the highest peaks of Hungary after a year of global touring, The Garden becomes an amalgamation of the band's personal and artistic experiences. The material conveys a more jazzier approach, with complex harmonies, and an almost cinematic, dreamlike atmosphere, somewhat distancing from (but not completely forgetting) the previously emphasized, dance-oriented Afro- and Latino roots. Song for Ramon serves as the EP’s emotional climax inspired by the passing of a close friend and local underground chef pioneer.

Formed in 2019 in Budapest, Hakumba is a staple of the Hungarian festival circuit, with a growing international presence (SXSW London, SHIP, PIN Music Showcase). They’ve recently finished a tour in Australia this January.

The groove-driven ensemble blends afrobeat, jazz, and various strands of world music into a sound that is both rhythmically powerful and harmonically adventurous. With an eleven-piece lineup featuring an expansive horn section, multiple vocalists, percussion, and keys, the band moves effortlessly between dancefloor energy and more intricate, jazz-influenced musical ideas.

Like the band’s previous album, the EP was again recorded, mixed, and mastered by András Weil, the producer behind The Qualitons, the only hungarian band ever performed Live at KEXP. This continuity preserves Hakumba’s recognizable sonic identity while giving space for new colors and more complex musical ideas to emerge.

Written & performed by:

Soma Számel – drums
Endre Szép – bass
Imre Hegedűs – guitar
Zalán Bendegúz Huff – guitar, vocals
Csongor Mari – keys
Noel Nagy – percussion, vocals
Dorka Foster – flute, vocals
Kristóf Szabó – alto sax
Alpár Sikó – tenor sax
Gáspár Simon – trumpet
András Téglásy – baritone sax

Produced, recorded, mixed and mastered by Andras Weil
Artwork by Eszter Lukács
Graphic design by Péter Tóth
Manufactured by AD Records
Distributed by Rush Hour

Recorded at Galyatető, Hungary

Released under the Blue Sun

UK Street Soul, electronic, Deep House

After enticing tastemakers and fans the world over with her 2-track junket into street soul, Be Loved / What Could Happen, Kuzco doubles down with the after-hours antidote. Bound to Be presents the final two tracks to complete the 4-track EP, plus 2 remixes from Ladymonix and Black Moonchild.

Ladymonix delivers an uncompromising scat dub of Be Loved - a niche and signature style to emerge from the Detroit underground that Ladymonix champions. This one is strictly for the house dancers. The B-side features "Waaalk" and "Ha Ha Ha", a sultry and energetic jaunt into ghetto tech and electro. If it wasn't already evident, Kuzco is clearly making a stand and representing the FLINTA and queer club spaces that she embodies.

The B-side is perfectly complemented by an outstanding remix from Detroit powerhouse Black Moonchild - a superbly deep and hypnotic techno groove reminiscent of UFO activity over the Motor City, with bleeping electronic signals passing through jittery hi-hat and drum passages, married with Kuzco's saucy spoken word.

Every so often in music, we come across voices that achieve a certain timelessness, so naturally do they encapsulate both past and present. Laure Briard is one of these voices, retro in form but contemporary at heart, spanning a career rich in aesthetic twists and turns, never without her signature magic, a special kind of eternal filter. Her first album, Révélation (2015), reveals her yé-yé influences, a testament to her love for ‘60s French pop music. Her second studio album, Sur la piste de danse (2016), follows in this vein and finds Laure accompanied as always by her long-time bandmates who share an affinity for warm, catchy arrangements that never lose their appeal. Her tour of Brazil marks a turning point in her career, introducing her to the local indie scene and thus launching her collaboration with the band Boogarins, as well as inspiring the release of multiple EPs composed and performed in Portuguese. Today, her music is embellished by touches of bossa nova and a folk sensibility, boasting increasingly intricate arrangements, as exemplified by her 2019 release, Un peu plus d'amour s'il vous plaît. Several years later, the Californian desert captures the musician’s imagination with Ne pas trop rester bleue, a poignant musical journey inspired by the rich history of Western legends and the role they play in shaping our collective consciousness.

In Voyage Mental, Laure Briard draws upon an inner energy unearthed during a new stage in her life, where the thrill of spontaneous adventure is not accessible in quite the same way. The result is a collection of sophisticated, introspective songs, narrating a young mother’s quest for balance in the face of routine. The album, nostalgic but always tethered to the present moment, is also the fruit of her collaboration with Gaëtan Nonchalant, a talented musician known for coaxing poetry out of the mundane. The two of them co-wrote and recorded five tracks at Studio Nocturne, accompanied by her long-time sidekick Pieuvre, aka Vincent Guyot, Léo Blomov, Pierre-Louis Vizioz, and Hedi Bensalem. The gentle pop opener “Rocking Chair” sways steadily to the rhythm of dynamic drums, followed by “Train,” a ballad that extends an invitation to set sail and daydream alone. The folk escapade continues with “Golden Sun,” a duet featuring the 1960s cult American musician F.J. McMahon, who Laure contacted via the internet on a whim. “Golden Sun” is an unlikely encounter between two generations and two cultures, giving new life to an old forgotten demo on the other side of the Atlantic. And while Laure sings of wide open spaces, cowboys, and sunsets sinking into the sea, we feel the city surrounding her in “Miroir,” a song composed by Hedi Bensalem that laments the suffocation of living in a crowded metropolis where the sky is a distant gray smudge. This pressing need for air, this search for rest and total disconnection, is one of the album's central themes. It may also explain the ever-present sense of nostalgia that pervades the songs, a welcome respite in our current era of doomscrolling and darkness. Along the way, Laure soothes us with melancholy guitar, delivers poetry set to scattered piano notes, and takes us by the hand during lively, uptempo passages. We climb onto her wings, never straying too far from the ground, soaring joyfully above her moods.

Daybreakers welcome back Chicago’s Vick Lavender for Essential Traxx Vol. 3, continuing a run of records that tap straight into the deeper end of his sound. A producer, musician and DJ with decades behind him, Vick has always moved in that space where house, jazz and soul naturally meet. It’s music with patience, feeling, and that unmistakable Chicago touch.

On the A side, Atmosphere brings things firmly onto the dancefloor. Rolling drums, deep bass and a groove that locks in and moves with purpose. Proper club-ready deep house that does exactly what it needs to do.

Flip it for There It Is featuring DMillz, and the journey goes deeper. Lush chords, soulful touches and that signature Vick Lavender flow unfolding over time. One for the heads who like to let the record tell a story.

Essential Traxx Vol. 3 keeps the story moving. Real house music from the source.

Deeper than deep house.

Buy or cry.

Creator of Le Châ, a chimera emerging from the margins, Lutèce Lockness builds worlds where dreamlike imagery and satire intertwine, inviting us to embrace the bizarre, the strange, and the intimate. With her debut album Le Châ, she crafts powerful, incantatory soundscapes. Her compositions blend psychedelic tones, medieval timbres, drifting drones, bouzouki improvisations, and digital textures, enriched through collaborations with Christoph Fink, Maxime Denuc, and Jean Rondeau.


Inspired by David Lynch, Jim Jarmusch, and Hayao Miyazaki, her practice shapes sonic material like exquisite corpses. Across disciplines, Lutèce Lockness explores new territories through projects such as the collective book Bande organisée (Seuil), born from the transport of a stone book across France during lockdown, and as part of the feminist punk group Forsissies. On stage, she has opened for Bonnie Banane at the Olympia and Flavien Berger at Le Lieu Unique in Nantes, and is also preparing for the opening of Kanal Pompidou in Brussels - continuing a trajectory where music, performance, and visual experimentation converge to create spaces of freedom.

A new voice enters the orbit. MBM carves three slow-burning studies in tension and release – merging patterns with fragile harmonics, melancholia, and restraint. Everything feels carefully placed yet emotionally exposed. Moments of pressure give way to space, steel meets softness, rhythm turns inward. No peaks. No breaks. Just pulse, texture, and tone – in constant negotiation. Music for the body, drawn from the depths. Soultones hits hard. Feel it.

Bolka is known as the man with the cap. His cap has lived through a lot: his glitchy and microtonal experiments, studies at Institute of Sonology in The Hague or through countless performative works. A few years ago, Bolka’s cap fell apart. By that time he was already a fixture on the slovak experimental scene, but only releasing his debut album, “smutné stropy.” He started wearing new caps from then: somehow reminiscent of the old one, but much more varied — same as “smutné stropy,” bubbling with motifs, charming humour and pop sensitivity layered over detailed soundscapes popping with surprises.

On schwarzkopf, Bolka returns wishing for a thick black hair. With his charming love songs, that are positioned somewhere between a tightly run freak folk orchestra, deconstructed ballads and colorful ecstatic melancholy, he creates an album that thrives on juxtapositions that are completely unique, yet strangely familiar. Bolka’s songwriting is at once tender and irreverent — lovestruck whispering suddenly tripping over absurdist jokes and surreal images that fizz like soda. His songs move in that strange space between vulnerability and mischief, where intimate confessions collide with radical playfulness and the poetic rubs shoulders with the delightfully ridiculous.

On schwarzkopf, Bolka expands his world with a wide circle of collaborators and an even richer sonic palette. The album is meticulously detailed yet carefree: delicate moments sit next to sudden explosions, drifting from gentle pop to bursts of noise. Toward the end, the album even slips into a footwork-infused remix by Kodiki, passes through Julek ploski’s signature neon-baroque string perspective, and briefly wanders into Lénok’s cinematic sonic world. Bolka sings that he wants to dissolve into a healing ointment, to be ground in a mortar with calendula — and he invites us into this musical spa with him: a place that stings a little but ultimately soothes, a gorgeous soundscape that is both painful and joyful at the same time.