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It has been said of Hiroshi Suzuki, one of Japan's leading trombonists, "If you want to sound good, you need to have him as a member of your group”. Suzuki moved to the U.S. in 1971 when he was invited to play with the Buddy Rich Orchestra, and had been living in Las Vegas ever since. The album Cat was recorded when he returned to Japan for the first time in about four years, and released on Nippon Columbia in 1976. The musicians are the same as in Freedom Unity, the group Suzuki had been a member of until his 1971 departure – consisting of pianist Hiromasa Suzuki, drummer Akira Ishikawa, bassist Kunimitsu Inaba, and saxophonist Takeru Muraoka.

Cat is a kind of second chance for that group, which once had a promising future but came to a premature demise. Based on the synergy that they had cultivated together in the past, the players brought their individual technical and musical growth to the album and collectively refined their efforts even further. Each of them had been active on the front lines of the jazz scene, and the quality of their compositions, arrangements, and performances here are extremely high. Cat is one of the most revered albums in the extraordinary Japanese Jazz discography and an essential piece of any music collection.

(Text by Yusuke Ogawa - Universounds)

This debut album captures Massive Dread at an early stage of his career when he was starting to make a name for himself as a unique voice in reggae. The production has that classic late-70s roots vibe—deep basslines, steady drum rhythms, and dub influences mixed with Massive Dread’s distinctive vocal style.
The album contains a mix of vocal tracks and deejay toasting, showcasing Massive Dread’s versatility. His style helped bridge the gap between the roots reggae era and the rising dancehall movement.

180-gram Vinyl incl. insert with sleeve notes.
Musicians
Drums: Lowell ‘Sly’ Dunbar
Bass Guitar: Robert ‘Robbie’ Shakespeare
Lead Guitar: Winston ‘Bo Peep’ Bowen
Organ: Ansel ‘Pinkie’ Collins

Eisenmund, the debut by Berlin-based Schimmel über Berlin is a thing of pounding, brittle beauty that seeks to continue on from where angst-ridden, early-eighties Berlin left off. Angular, monophonic synths, guitars that slice through with wiry yet melodic urgency, basslines that pulse with a taut, driven precision and drums that meld everything together. Liv Billerbeck’s vocals come from the middle distance, drifting between detached and desperate, as if transmitted through a wintery cityscape.

Title track Eisenmund jangles with reedy synths floating over a carpet of bass and mournful vocals dripping with a sense of loss. This mood spills over into the other tracks, like post-punk jewel Schreck with its iridescently lovely guitars.

Eisenmund is sharp, atmospheric, and quietly thrilling - proof that the shadows of the eighties can still dance under today's flickering lights. The album, immaculately produced by T-Rex, captures that classic post-punk mood of urban decay, late-night introspection and stubborn sense of motion, which for someone like me, who was there back in the day, seems utterly familiar without ever sinking into mere nostalgia.

Fiona Sangster (Xmal Deutschland)
Die Band Schimmel über Berlin ist eines der vielen Klanggesichter der Liv Billerbeck, ein Gesicht, das man niemals sieht, das im Verborgenen sich umblickt und agiert und das trotzdem aber in einer seltenen Klarheit erscheint. Man sieht es beim Hören, schemenhaft. Ihr Schaffen ist befallen vom West-Berlin der 1980er Jahre (Xmal Deutschland, Malaria etc.).

Eine Rolle, gerade in der musikalischen Brillanz und Produktionsraffinesse, spielt britischer Post-Punk, der sich sehr klar auch im treibenden Spiel von T-Rex ​​​(Bass + Produktion), Việt Phương Vũ (Gitarre) und Christian Ramisch (Schlagzeug – mit Phương übrigens bei der ebenfalls sehr guten Band NOJ) zeigt: The Sound, Killing Joke et. al.!

Es handelt sich bei dieser Musik um einen Sound mit retroesquem Anstrich, der spürbar eine vergangene Luft atmet, einer Nostalgie an eine ferne Zeit anheimfällt, die das Quartett ob ihres Alters nicht erlebt haben kann, und die vielmehr eine Sehnsucht bedeutet, in der Unerfüllbarkeit eine Melancholie mitbringt, eine Art treibende Traurigkeit spürbar macht. Das allein ist groß! Was weitergehend daran aber so interessant, besonders und wahnsinnig schön ist: Das klingt in Billerbecks Schaffen – und insbesondere hier, beim Schimmel über Berlin – nicht wie eine Kopie, ein Abklatsch, eine Reminiszenz oder das, was in der so called NNDW bald flächendeckend geschieht: das Anzapfen einer überholten Coolness. Denn etwas ist ganz gegenwärtig daran, in der Eigenständigkeit, macht einem eindringlich das Hier und Jetzt spürbar, auf unterschiedlichen Ebenen: Traurigkeit, ja, aber auch Bock, bis in die Morgenstunden auszugehen, schnellen Schrittes über rutschiges Kopfsteinpflaster zu traben. Musik dann wieder zum Verkrümeln in zugigen Altbauten, von Schreien über einen nebelbedeckten See im Umland Berlins.

Und eben kein Eskapismus, auch wenn die Musik zur Flucht taugte. Merkwürdig ist, dass in dieser Retroschleife dann etwas Märchenhaftes mitschwingt. Vielleicht liegt es auch in der authentischen 1980er-Jahre Produktion, in der immer wieder so ein Klimpern, ein Schellen durchkommt. Es mag aber auch an den Texten liegen, die etwas von Minnesang haben und in ihrer Klarheit, die aus der Kühle und den Kargheiten (der Vergangenheit, der Gegenwart, der Zukunft) entsteht, doch Wärme transportieren.

Wir hören darin heute, trotz all dem Bewusstsein für die Vergangenheit, den Sound einer seltenen Dichterin der Gegenwart. Das ist von einer Intensität, die einen bald absorbiert. Eisenmund etwa, das Titelstück, ist so ein Song, bei dem man sich hinsetzen oder gleich hinlegen muss. Da sind Dinge, die man nicht ändern kann. Wie geht das? Also: nach vorne, heftig, und dann aber so weich und traurig. Hätten Schimmel über Berlin die 1980er-Jahre dieser Stadt beschallt, sie wären hiermit, das mögen sie selbst vielleicht gar nicht hören, die Helden dieser Zeit gewesen. Eisenmund ist das tollste Album, das mir seit Jahren begegnet ist – und die bisherige Klimax dessen, was aus der Allee der Kosmonauten hervorgeht.

Und wenn man das alles so hört, aufmerksam hört, wird einem, obwohl das alles so ein einziger, riesiger Hit ist, völlig klar: Hier geht es nicht darum, irgendwo damit zu landen, irgendwo mitzumischen, erfolgreich zu sein oder in aller Munde. Hier geht es darum, einfach nur genau das zu machen, was es ist! Alles andere ist egal.

Der Klagegesang wird mich immer umwehen.

– Hendrik Otremba

Slip is Paul Abbott’s response to his 3 day residency at OTO in 2023. It’s a continued exploration of the acoustic-digital hybrid drum setup Abbott has been developing for some time, which involves drum kit and synthetic sounds combined closely—through an entanglement of limbs and cables—in an intimate but strange relationship with each other.

Paul Abbott hasn’t had any formal musical training, but has a long history of making music, having collaborated for years with Seymour Wright, Pat Thomas, Michael Speers, Cara Tolmie, Anne Gillis and many others. Eventually, led by a profound suspicion of what is fixed or limited, Abbott began finding other ways to organise sound - or what he calls ‘material’:

“I wanted a way to 'persuade' or guide the possibility of something happening - my activity or the events of an algorithmic composition - for example, but without certainty or formalism. It felt to me, during playing, that certain ideas had a particular sort of shape, but more than the form of a line. I began to write alongside (before/after) playing the drums, and ‘characters’ began to enter the scene as a more wobbly, and therefore appropriate option to notation. Working with these characters allowed me to simultaneously approach body, imagination, language and music: without dividing things up or separating these aspects from each other. It allowed me to leave things messy and entangled, whilst trying to deal with form and specificity: wanting to have some things feel or respond differently to other things at other times.”

In approaching his residency, Abbott developed a fixed cast of characters - crystal, lleaf, reiy.F, reiy.C, strike, nee, qosel, sphu and aahn. They each communicate using different kinds of movement and drum kit/s, and Abbott choreographed them as ‘dances’ based on different feelings, or outlines of behaviours suggestive of ways of moving (body, drums, sounds). He then arranged these characters into ‘compositions’: one for each performance day, with each composition featuring multi-layered activity - options for behaviours, ways to move around the rooms, play drums, develop synthetic sounds, change the lights or re-distribute the sound in the space.

After the performances, Abbott took home 9 hours of recordings split into up to 28 multitrack channels for each day, and re-organised his cast once more into a performance for 2LP, CD and digital. It’s an enormous amount of work - but Abbott is activated by the process. For him, the pleasure of unstable edges, possibilities, slippages, is the vital attraction. Like all living organisms, Abbott’s characters have malleability and responsivity. They stimulate a bundle of possible behaviours, a tendency to act a certain way, a temperament, a boundary of respective limits or affordances.

It’s an affective way of working, inclusive of Roscoe Mitchell, Sun Ra, Nathaniel Mackey and Milford Graves. In ‘Pulseology’(2022), Milford Graves reminds us, ‘Breath varies, so cardiac rhythm never has that (metronomic) tempo. It’s always changing. All the alignments of the heart are determined based on the needs of the cells, specifically tissues and organs. The heart knows if it needs to speed up.’ In Slip, to slip, in a heartbeat, is to descend not into the grid of the even metre accorded to the heartbeat, but into a play of mutability and modality. To change is the condition of the heart.

On “Cold Sweat,” James Brown famously called to “give the drummer some.” In 1974, Philadelphia vibraphonist Khan Jamal called to Give the Vibes Some, with superb results. Pianist and composer Jef Gilson’s PALM label gave Jamal the platform he needed to deliver a thorough exploration of contemporary vibraphone. After launching PALM in 1973, Gilson quickly demonstrated that he would only produce records not found anywhere else. Give the Vibes Some, PALM number 10, was another confirmation of this guiding principle.



Raised and based in Philadelphia, Khan Jamal took up the vibes in 1968, after two years in the army during which he was stationed in France and Germany. Decisively drawn to the instrument by the work of the Modern Jazz Quartet’s Milt Jackson, Jamal studied under Philadelphia vibraphone legend Bill Lewis and soon made his debuts in the local underground.



Early in 1972, Jamal made his first recording, with the Sounds of Liberation. The band attempted an original fusion of conga-heavy grooves with avant-garde jazz soloing. Saxophonist Byard Lancaster, an important figure in Jamal’s development, contributed much of the solo work. Later in 1972, Jamal made his leader debut with Drum Dance to the Motherland, a reverb-drenched, never-to-be-replicated experiment with live sound processing. Both albums appeared on the tiny musician-run Dogtown label.



“We couldn’t get no play from nowhere. No gigs or recording sessions or anything. So I took off for Paris,” Jamal recalled in a Cadence interview with Ken Weiss. “Within a few weeks, I had a few articles and I did a record date. It didn’t make me feel good about America.” That was in 1974, while Byard Lancaster was recording the music gathered on Souffle Continu’s recent The Complete PALM Recordings, 1973-1974.



Jamal’s record date delivered Give the Vibes Some. At its core, it was an exploratory solo vibraphone album, even if two tracks added (through technological resourcefulness?) a très célèbre French drummer very much into Elvin Jones appearing under pseudonym for contractual reasons. Another track, for which Jamal switched to the vibes’s wooden ancestor, the marimba, added young Texan trumpeter Clint Jackson III. The most notable article published on Jamal during this stay in France was a Jazz Magazine interview. Jamal’s last word there were “The Creator has a master plan/drum dance to the motherland.” “Give the vibes some” could be added to this programmatic statement.

Disco Mind taps into a rich vein full of Italy's freshest electronic talents here with a glorious new EP for retro-future dancefloors. Kicking things off is Naples-based Lance, who channels proto-house ruggedness and glossy Italo disco melodies on 'Renato Superstar, which is an homage to a cult 80s film. Club Mediterraneo follows with 'Prima Cala' and provides a shimmering Balearic bliss for sunset sessions, and Sparking Attitude makes a strong first impression with 'Au Revoir Bonsoir,' which sinks into slinky deep house grooves with a touch of filter sync madness. Leslie Lello and Luksek join forces on 'Caravan' for a sugary-sweet nu-disco finish, lovely analogue drums and a carefree attitude.

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.

Channeling inventive sound design into incisive, characterful techno variations, Jurango returns to Livity Sound with an eight-track double EP — his longest release to date. Taíno Gold captures a moment in time for Bristol-based Nate Reece's continually evolving sound as it draws on the full spectrum of UK club music.

Following a debut for Livity's reverse label in 2021 and last year's An Amorphous Mass EP, Reece is more assured than ever tackling a variety of club-focused cuts. The tracks on the release all came together before, during and after a two-month visit to Reece's grandparents' home — an idyllic tropical environment in a small community at the top of a hill in the northern part of Jamaica.

Taíno Gold refers to the island's indigenous Taíno community and the legend of a witch luring Spanish settlers into a trap on the Martha Brae river. There are no messages explicitly embedded in the music, but the release is both a personal reflection of Reece's own experiences and family heritage, plus a reminder about the enduring sceptre of colonialism and the continued need to fight against it. From absorbing Jamaica's fraught history through museum and plantation visits to the abundant nature in the garden surrounding his grandparent's house, the double EP marks a place in time for Reece, with eight advanced, ear-catching tracks as the end result.

From the cascading arps of 'Black Torches' to the tunnelling chords of 'Waiting For Trelawny', the melodic dimension of the Jurango sound is more confident than ever. 'Hibiscus' is a shimmering celebration of dub techno and crooked drum pressure and 'Chalk On Trees' basks in aqueous, fathoms-deep pads to close out the EP. Elsewhere, Reece brings new textural and tonal detail to his percussive workouts, splashing acidic noise around the angular experimentation of 'Maybe It's Broken' and firing off double-time rhythms to inject 'Double Sevens' with infectious urgency.

With the space afforded by a longer release, Reece widens out the scope of his artistic identity while absorbing the particular scene and setting that surrounded him while making the tracks. Taíno Gold is a vibrant next step for Jurango and a natural continuation of his work with Livity Sound.

Livity Sound is a label set up by Peverelist in 2011 as a vehicle for a raw and exploratory strain of UK techno, rooted in the heritage of UK dance music and sound system culture. It has since become one of the UK's foremost protagonists for cutting edge underground electronic music.

Karen Willems is a Belgian drummer/percussionist active in various fields. Started as a drummer in rock and pop bands. With a number of musicians she built up a tradition within improvised music and sound art. Since 2020, with ‘TERRE SOL’ Willems is searching for personal modifications within her play of instruments and objects, with the focus on solo work and compositions.

"When I make music, there’s no plan. I draw my inspiration from everyday life. Small encounters, people, and the greatest source, of course, is nature. There we find all the beauty, all the sounds we need. With my solo work I try to stay far away from my familiar drum set. Only then I can create a special universe. Eccentricity and playfulness go hand in hand with exercises in tension and release, and calls for connection in antisocial times. It's difficult in this world obsessed with productivity and results, and you really have to be crazy to release music these days. So ‘A Fool’s Guide to Reality’ is a fitting title." Karen Willems

All music performed by Karen Willems using citer, casio, fieldrecordings, tambourin, mikado, xylophon, pots, bells, kindergarten instruments, snare, noisebox, crispy shakers, synths, effects...

Moving Pressure marks its fifth release, and the first one to stretch across a double vinyl with full sleeve artwork. It isn't framed as an album, yet its sequencing carries a narrative weight that lingers between immediacy and introspection.
MP05 welcomes on board Australian producer Connor Wall, whose work fuses tightly wound rhythm and immersive atmosphere, balancing precision with a sense of openness. His sound is rooted in the physical pull of the dancefloor, yet drawn toward zones of suspension and elusion. And Moving Pressure 05 captures that duality very clearly. Momentum sets the tone from the outset - taut drum programming, metallic accents, and structures that build energy in decisive bursts. There's a sense of propulsion that feels engineered for peak hours, exuding a tightening grip on the floor. Gradually, tension loosens up, stretching patterns into spirals, layering vaporous pads and resonant low-end that opens a more interior space.
Together, the two arcs trace Wall's range with clarity: body and mind, force and dissolve. Rather than presenting opposites, they reveal different angles of the same language. An exploration of density, atmosphere, and the subtle thresholds between the two.

Heralding 10 years of relentless club futurism, Timedance strikes forward once more with TD10. Batu's label has nurtured experimentation between techno propulsion, soundsystem pressure and innovative sound design since the beginning, rarely resting in one space and always reaching for new ideas. Across 23 forward-facing cuts, this compilation continues that tradition with a strong cast of scene-leading heavyweights and crucial emergent talent.

The wide-ranging styles across TD10 are bound together by a shared affinity for bassweight presence and vibrant, three-dimensional production. Fractured, artful deconstruction from Daisy Moon, Marco Shuttle and Verraco sits alongside the snarling half-step pressure of re:ni and Lurka and the jagged drum intensity of Lechuga Zafiro, 33EMYBW, Ayesha, and Jabes. There's space for big room anti-anthems from Pearson Sound, Bambounou and Batu himself, wildcard swerves from Minor Science and Skee Mask and more emotive melodic sensibilities from Polygonia, El irreal Veintiuno and BADSISTA. At every turn, the ideas are fresh, toying with the idea of an all-encompassing sound for the label and throwing open the possibilities for what it might represent in the future.

Timedance has thrived in an era where technology has eroded the boundaries between the generic formulae of dance music's past, helping set the pace for innovation and presenting compelling, immediate music across the tempo range. TD10 responds to that legacy with its gaze fixed firmly forwards, ushering in the label's next chapter in proudly unpredictable style.

A year on from Aura Safari and Jimi Tenor's Sensory Blending and DJs and dancers are still lost in its summer charms, but there have also been a series of standout remixes taken from the originals, which now get assembled on one vital 12": Sensory ReBlending features Willie Graff, Reverso 68 Dub, Jazz N Palms and Luminodisco.

First up is Ibiza favourite Willie Graff, who tackles the spellbinding original 'Bewitched By The Sea'. He brings a signature Balearic beat perfect for cruising around the island as the sun blazes with its dubby, swaying drums and more prominent vocal, all brought to life with delicate percussion and gentle synth pulses. Label regular Federico Costantini aka Luminodisco also returns with a mature post-Balearic touch that douses the track in an ocean of dubby echo. Gorgeous Spanish guitars and jumbled percussion form a life raft which floats out to sea under the sultry wind motifs.

Reverso 68 is the studio-based project of Pete Herbert and Phil Mison, and over the last decade-plus, they have mastered the art of making music for swimming pools. Their version of 'Your Magic Touch' is low-slung and deep with a mid-tempo four-four groove sprinkled with tropical percussion. The muted chords are gloriously dreamy and the whole thing is perfect for early evening warm-ups.

Jazz N Palms is Hell Yeah family and is currently riding a wave of acclaim for his See Rodes (Revisades) album on his own Jazz N Palms Recordings. He flips 'Lunar Wind' into poolside perfection with heart-melting sax notes and rippling keys, soothing female tones and dubby breaks. It's a perfect soundtrack to heavenly ascent.

These remixes perfectly extend the soul-soothing pleasures of Sensory Blending with plenty of fresh but sympathetic perspective.

NAIVE020 epitomizes what the Lisbon-based label, run by Violet, has become cherished for: imaginative yet timeless, soothing yet moody, melodic yet sonic music. Entitled 'Computer Hermetics', this new record is an EP by Berlin-based UrbnMowgli.

The opening track, 'Fast Love Life', is a 145 bpm electro-bred, breakbeat-driven emotive dancefloor banger. It features menacing stabs juxtaposed with beautiful pads and acid-drenched arpeggio motifs that lend it a oneiric quality. 'Oracle Algorithm' picks up the 303 spirit and delves into trippier territories, densening the dreamlike, expansive atmosphere while infusing the record with electro-driven grit. Closing side A is 'Warschauer Rush-Hour', a futuristik, high-tempo twisted electro banger that's both tough and playful.

'Immaterial Desires' inaugurates side B—an ode to adventurous drum programming and intricate sound design in the form of a percussion-punctuated curveball belter. 'Digital Dawn' brings it all back home to the heart and closes the record with its deepest, most immersive moment, giving us big bass lines that alchemically converse with angelic bleepy melodies as if soundtracking a soulful sci fi movie that doesn't exist yet.

Secretsundaze’s recently minted 9FINITY continues its stellar run of explorations into the outer regions of modern club music with an imprint debut from fast-rising talent Milès Borghese.

Borrowing elements from early Detroit techno, and Perlonized minimal, the ‘Antic Drive’ EP distills the German-born, Austria-based producer’s broad spectrum of influences into a highly functional, club-ready collection of tracks that perfectly fits the imprint’s modus operandi.

The A-side kicks off with ‘Do You Ever Fantasize’, a deep club tool built around the vocal sample of the title and punctuated by building drums, alien sonics at every turn, and a mean, highly danceable bassline to boot. The peak time worthy ‘Sustain’ follows an impressive opening, as an incessant mind-looping hypnotic groover aimed straight at the floor.

The EP’s title track ‘Antic Drive’ opens up the flip. Leaning on subtle textures and almost off kilter percussion, minimal broody deepness is the motive here. Borghese’s impressive first outing wraps up with ‘Mateo Does’, a driving rhythm-heavy track built for late nights and early mornings.

Only Music Matters is a mysterious label that deals in white hot minimal and tech from either one unknown or various rotating unknown artists who all go by the name Unknown. They are all straight to dancefloor, no-frills business, including this one: 'AAA001A' is dark and rumbling with a mid-tempo groove and sleazy vocal slurs from a Saint Germain classic. 'BBB001B' brings a more luminous synth glow and fluttering motifs up top that elevate the dubby, wafting drums. 'BBB002B' completes the trip with some warped pads and sci-fi details over another dusty mix of drums and bass. The likes of Dubfire and Priku have already been banging this one, so you should too.

The 10th release on ALIM Music, a stone-cold classic, has been reborn. Gil Scott-Heron and Brian Jackson’s The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, the iconic song of protest and Black Consciousness, has been reimagined and revitalised for a new generation. With new lyrics and vocal performance from Black Thought, a reworked and bassline-heavy production by Masters at Work, Brian Jackson has recreated an absolute masterpiece.

Originally taken from Gil’s poem as performed on his Small Talk at 125th & Lenox and then released as a proto Hip-Hop song featuring Bernard Purdie’s drumming on the 1974 Pieces of a Man album, this new version updates the track’s original powerful lyrics to include references to the propaganda of Fox News, social media tropes, live streaming, taking the knee and modern day consumerism. Delivered by Black Thought in his imitable style and accompanied by Brian Jackson’s incisive jazz flute, these new lyrics represent a Black Liberation call to action for today’s world.

Louie Vega and Kenny Dope’s production gives The Revolution Will Not Be Televised a dancefloor edge that embraces a Jazz Hip-Hop flow with the absolute clarity of the message. Taken from Brian Jackson’s forthcoming and aptly titled BBE Music album, Now More Than Ever, The Revolution Will Not Be Televised will unite Boomers, Millenials and Gen-Z in its multi-generational cross-over appeal bringing the original Gorillas together with Neo-Soul and Hip-Hop heads of today.

Naya Beat is incredibly excited to announce the release of an astonishing lost “holy grail”, Mohinder Kaur Bhamra’s 1982 masterpiece ‘Punjabi Disco’. Unknown and inaccessible to even the deepest of diggers, it is the first British Asian electronic dance album recorded and a true lost relic. A chance find of the original multitrack masters during the Covid lockdown led to ‘Punjabi Disco’ being rediscovered. Lovingly mixed down and remastered from these very studio recordings, the reissue also includes remixes by Peaking Lights, Baalti, Mystic Jungle, Psychemagik, and Danger Boys, as well as a cover by Say She She’s Piya Malik and Turbotito & Ragz and a previously unreleased track. It is available for pre-order and out on x2LP vinyl and all digital platforms on October 31st, 2025.

Released the same year and into equal obscurity as ‘Ten Ragas To A Disco Beat’, Charanjit Singh’s acid house opus, the reissue of ‘Punjabi Disco’ is set to have similar reverberations in the world of dance music. Produced by Mohinder’s eldest son and legendary bhangra pioneer Kuljit Bhamra using a recently acquired Roland SH-1000 synthesizer and a CR-8000 CompuRhythm drum machine played by his then 11-year-old brother, the album was recorded at Roxy Music bass player Rick Kenton’s studio in London. The concept for a Punjabi disco album was subsequently stolen from the Bhamra’s by the very record label that had agreed to distribute the album. Eventually self-released with no label support, ‘Punjabi Disco’ vanished into complete obscurity.

A pivotal figure in British Asian music, West London-based vocalist and first-generation immigrant Mohinder Kaur Bhamra became the first woman to sing at Punjabi weddings and other community events in the UK. Her son, Kuljit, would accompany her, playing tabla at her events from the age of six. Wedding music was traditionally a tame, segregated affair: men and women seated and separated on opposite sides of the room. ‘Punjabi Disco’ was born out of a desire to create an unsegregated dancefloor and inspired by the sounds of disco from the era. A tapestry of electric drum rhythm, warbling bass, and psychedelic siren-like Roland synth melodies provide a vehicle for Mohinder’s powerful voice. Part disco, part funk, part acid house, and infused with Punjabi folk melodies, the sound of ‘Punjabi Disco’ is as mesmerising as it is undefinable.

Featuring an incredible gatefold package and exhaustive liner notes by the Guardian’s Global Music Critic, Ammar Kalia, the x2LP release has been cut to vinyl for the discerning listener and DJ by Grammy-nominated Frank Merritt from The Carvery, London.

This is Naya Beat’s ninth release in a series of reissues, remixes, and compilations dedicated to uncovering electronic and dance music from the subcontinent and South Asian diaspora.

BDK lands on Footjob for his label debut, serving up a four-track EP of disco-laced dancefloor power. The Belfast producer delievers high-octane, funky-driven, floor-focused cuts packed with punchy drums. A guaranteed lift to any house/disco set.

Four years on from their landmark Grassroots, visionary half-time heavyweights The Untouchables return with their third album, Lost Knowledge. The duo of Kate McGill and Ajit 'Nitrox' Steyns have carved out a space in modern D&B all their own, building on a legacy that reaches back to the late 00s to keep pushing into unexplored terrain with an assured and deadly line in rhythmic intrigue and atmospheric immersion.

Lost Knowledge launches into action instantly with the high-pressure drum science and dubby splashes of 'Drunken Bells', capturing the loopy techno propulsion and rolling intensity that drives so much of the output on Samurai Music. Where The Untouchables excel is in finding variety and nuance in their relatively forbidding, pared down sound. The heads-down groove of 'Mafia Town' owes as much to dembow and dancehall as D&B, while 'Lost Knowledge' spirals out into psychoactive flurries of synth strafes and organic percussion slathered in tight-locked delay trails. There's no light relief from strident hooks or riffs, just a pure, unshakeable commitment to the power of the beat and deeply designed layers of sound shaping out the space around.

'Busy Bones' makes space for carefully deployed hints of pad tone while the snares snap out of the mix with a sharp set of teeth. 'Four Eared Demon' baits the gabber crowd with its rapid-fire 4/4 hats atop seasick creaks across the midrange, keeping subtlety and patience in the lower frequencies to maintain the signature elegance readily associated with The Untouchables. 'Phase Correlation' teases an artfully unhinged ripple of synth that stands out amongst the murky murmurs filling out the middle distance, but it's still exercised with brutal precision.

Nothing happens by accident or feels out of place - McGill and Steyns are in total control, and they demonstrate incredible range and inventive approaches within their focused style. The accent of the grooves shifts, and individual sounds carry all kinds of artefacts, yet everything gets folded into the exacting Untouchables sound with a liberal dubwise sensibility. Brimming with inspiration and immaculately produced, on Lost Knowledge their one-of-a-kind sound is stronger than ever.