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"Static Shock out here still pushing the finest in international punk and hardcore. This time with a smoking debut from Oslo’s Draümar. Their influences are from the same city block with groundwork laid by groups like So Much Hate and Svart Framtid. Unfortunately, the songs are blasting away at the same monumental enemies albeit with different faces. The never-ending nuclear question, societal unease, genocide, and a steadfast approach to not turn away from the constant horror of today’s world make up the tapestry of this 12”.
The intro and outro track nod and update John Carpenter’s Assault On Precinct 13 setting the stage for a flurry of cold, desperate Norwegian punk - instantly identifiable and as potent as ever. Indeed, they’ve scraped the blood, sweat and victory off the floors of Blitz and distilled it into a Molotov aimed directly at a world in constant crisis. These are chords and context against a rising fascist world where screaming is not limp response but also tactic, celebration and affirmation. Aside from the fury contained in the original tracks you get a bonus treat in the dual vocal attack on the Bannlyst song ‘Herrene’ which features original Bannlyst vocalist, Finn Erik Tangen - instantly identifiable and still just as pissed."

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

Hidden Spheres is a Rhythm Section mainstay for a reason: having released 3 EPs on the label, he has
developed his sound and fully emerged into a flow state. His residency at Public Records has enabled him to mould an EP perfect for any dancefloor, perfecting a Detroit indebted House style with influences from early Kerri Chandler and Ron Trent perfect for those heads down, hands-up moments.

Delivering 5 tracks that master dancefloor tension, it's difficult to pick a stand out. “Come On, Yeh” harks
back to the New Jersey House sound with dubby organ chord stabs and punchy 909 drums and a sublime bongo loop. “Don’t You Wanna” welcomes the house dancers, with a low-slung, heavily swung groove, resampled pads, and a deep spoken refrain that gives the track its title. Kicking off the B-side “Get Down” hits the subs, with unmistakably phat bass, moody strings and broad use of the iconic M1 organ bass patch “Organ2”. Followed by “I Feel Good” brings police sirens, 808s and swirling pads, to a glorious Deep House tune with a top chime motif that keeps the party moving. The final track of the B side, “You Don’t Know”, takes things down a notch, but maintaining the sublime tension with classic house piano chords and another wicked percussive loop.

Hidden Spheres has returned to his unadulterated House roots, with an EP that stays true to the classic sound. He has shaped an awesome body of work with character from deep spoken word samples, perfect use of dub sirens and grooves that can give any club a reason to invest in bigger

Will Wood's very first LP displays a variety of genres, with a chaotic homemade anti-folk feel and an experimental edge. "Everything is a Lot" began its long production in 2014, when the singer-songwriter was still 20 years old and performing drunken alt-comedy at open mics. With no funding, Wood led a slapdash band into the studio to bring songs mainly from his teenage years to life, and the unstructured production process and youthful experimentation gave it a uniquely loose and chaotic feel. The debut LP's sound is defined by Wood's Jay Hawkins-esque vocal delivery, an out-of-tune old upright piano, wailing wind instruments, jangly guitar, high-powered yet loose drums, and sardonic overdriven kazoo solos. Delivering everything from swing jazz and twee indie pop to pseudo-mariachi and waltz, these sounds and their accompanying bizarre lyrics come together to match the existential title, "Everything is a Lot." Will Wood's early career can be primarily defined by his experimental vocal delivery, honky-tonk piano smashing, and darkly edgy songwriting. While his stylings have matured and taken on a more precise approach, his refusal to conform to expectations and constant shifts in the genre have continued to be hallmarks of his songwriting and production. In his "Will Wood and the Tapeworms" releases (Everything Is A Lot in 2015, SELF-iSH in 2016), audiences can see the first glimpses into what would eventually become his signature style, presented in a uniquely raw and chaotic state of potential.

Getting back to simple things, Homemade EP is an allegory of a DIY mentality in an era filled with complexity and uncertainty.

The A-side leans into early-2000s electro and house, with tight drums and functional grooves.
"Rue des Loubards" (A1) kicks off as a groovy cut, filled with mysterious chords and sensual French vocals, layered with tight, driving drums. "Dreams" (A2) follows as an electro piece with aggressive synth riffs and cinematic vocals.

The B-side drifts toward a late-80s palette, with warmer tones and nostalgic feelings. "Godspeed" (B1) cleverly mixes Italo and new beat elements for a chiaroscuro effect. "Antwerp" (B2) closes the EP with a true journey, starting with trancey textures and skillfully drifting toward a synthpop conclusion.

Undun is the story of a man, Redford Stevens, dying in reverse, rewinding from the moment he became a statistic and hitting the points in his life where he's at his most self-aware. That he's a criminal who got caught up in the familiar street-hustle trappings that the modern media's documented countless times is a pivotal detail-- it's hit at an angle that seems to emphasize the futile inevitability of it all. His life could be any number of misdirected narratives that ends with a toe tag, and what details listeners learn about him are hazy, buried under archetypal turns of fate and decisive struggles. That this protagonist is a fictionalized composite of a handful of real people, filtered through a matter-of-fact narrative that splits character ambivalence with journalistic impartiality, only makes his lack of direction and the failure of any real closure stand out even more. "Lotta niggas go to prison," Dice Raw states on "Tip the Scale", "how many come out Malcolm X?"

So the Roots' latest album isn't a sprawling, rise-and-fall crime story, not a condemnation or a veneration of a man living outside the law, not a bullet-riddled grand guignol heavy on explicit details of soldiers getting cut down. It's a character study of a man whose existential crisis ends only with his death-- a death gone largely unspecified, the glamor and tragedy washed over with a doomed resignation. That's a hard thing to pull off, even for a band as given to deep-thinking concepts as the Roots are. And when your main lyrical catalyst is Black Thought-- a man more given to allusions than direct statements-- it's likely that it'll take a while for the full scope of Undun to really sink in.

If and when it does, it might strike listeners as a bit skeletal: omit the mood-setting instrumental bookends, including a brief, four-part orchestral suite that builds off Sufjan Stevens' "Redford (For Yia-Yia and Pappou)", and you've got maybe a half hour's worth of material. By ?uestlove's accounts, writing Redford's story introduced the headaches and challenges that come with scriptwriting into their songwriting, and what's left on Undun is the end result of frequent revisions and rewrites that attempt to reconcile character, theme, and continuity. If it comes at the expense of nuance, it's not always obvious: There's an easy-to-trace narrative line from Redford's acceptance of his fate ("Sleep") to his acknowledgement of how close it's approaching ("Make My"), back through declarations of aggravated toughness ("One Time"), and celebratory fatalism ("Kool On"), along ups and downs that juxtapose motivation ("Stomp") and helplessness ("Lighthouse"). When the vocal portion of the album ends with two of the bleakest sets of verses in the Roots discography, peaking with the estrangement of "I Remember" and the desperation of "Tip the Scale", Undun reveals itself as a story where a man's actual death isn't quite as tragic as the circumstances that pushed him to it.

Some tracks have a lot of history to them. Some are just one of life's mysteries.

TEDI seems to have been a work in progress with New York producers Greg Carmichael and Mitch Braithwaite.

The body of work being recorded during the late 1970's and early 1980's was a daily procedure with many people passing through. Over time Greg had no recollection of the recording and neither did his good friend Leroy Burgess. Sadly Mitch Braithwaite is no longer with us. But his music lives on with this boogie soul record with those stabbing piano keys , synth and reverbs. Topped with some growling vocals. The singer sounds familiar but I haven't a clue who it is? Tedi someone!!

Russell Paine (Super Disco Edits).

These four tracks simply blew me away when I heard them. Its raw disco funk cosmic energy that you just can't replicate. Sometimes when you get a long disco track that's eight or ten minutes long, mundane thoughts and loss of interest can start to kick in once the dums and bongo's have faded.

This isn't the case with Magique. You just keep joining the rocket ride to the stars.

From the social message disco funk of "Inch By Inch" which is still relevant to today's social problems. "Dancin" and "Disco Nights" epitomise why we love disco.

And finally "Disco Cowboy" has a sound that harks back to those Plainfield NJ P-Funk roots. I think if any of the Dj pioneers from the 1970's stumbled across these they would have been etched in Disco Folklore!

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

Walter Thomas’s “Chicago Knights” LP features a retrospective of songs written and released between 1987 and 2009, primarily with the Roland 1824 and the Fostex 8 track reel to reel. Channeling the spirit of underground soul and dance music specifically rooted within the greater area of Chicago, Illinois–a city known for its deep and healthy soul and r&b roots–this compilation features 8 of its 9 tracks on vinyl for the very first time.

The intro track “I Wanna Get Witcha” dates back to 1987, holds a proven track record of kicking off many a dance floor, rocking clubs worldwide in a blur of boogie-funk, disco, and soul. “Immaturity” and both versions of “Fed Up” echo the emotional differences and tensions between lovers in a spat. “Magic City” served as the anthem and homage to its namesake roller skating rink in 90s-era Waukegan, IL. While “Chicago Knights” is a relentless mid-tempo groove inspired by the aggressive motorists that dominate Chicago roadways, “2nd Chance” drops the tempo to a slow r&b roll, preaching the ethos of love, peace, and forgiveness.

Last but certainly not least, “E&J’s” was a real commercial jingle used for a once legendary BBQ joint “E&J’s” in Illinois: a short bonus track to close out the LP. These 9 tracks are just a touch of Walter’s expansive body of work, and we’re stoked to bring them to you on wax.


Walter Thomas is a singer, songwriter, producer, arranger, and composer from North Chicago, IL known for his soulfully smooth arrangements and vocals. Walter has toured internationally with quintessential soul groups like the Temptations and Friends of Distinction, as well as opening for performers including the Floaters, Bette Wright, The Emotions, and The Drifters. His decades of touring with nightclub and concert performances have honed this gifted artist into a seasoned and refined live act.

Solo 500 delivers another irresistible donut that takes the form of this 2-sided celebration of afro-latin & jazz-funk classics. GSC dusts off 2 deep catalog selections here — & part of the appeal is that neither side is a played-out sample cliché. This one is for heads who already burned through the obvious joints.

Side A digs into Manu Dibango beyond the endlessly flipped “Soul Makossa” universe. “The Panther”, from the 1973 album “Africadelic”, isn’t one of his commonly sampled tracks — & that’s exactly why it hits so hard. Low-slung Afro-funk, stalking bass & suspense-building horns that feel like a break record even if they haven’t been rinsed by every golden-era producer. Selectors who chase texture over recognition will understand the power here immediately. It’s the kind of cut hip-hop heads love not because they’ve heard it before — but because they haven’t.

Side B moves into Latin jazz-funk royalty. Ray Barretto is one of the most sampled percussionists of all time, but “Together” (from the 1969 album of the same name) sits slightly off the obvious break-beat path. Instead of a clean, isolated drum loop, you get rolling congas, warm keys & a communal groove that’s been DJ-tested far more than it’s been sampled. This is the type of Barretto cut that crate-diggers pull when they want rhythm to breathe — bridging jazz floors, disco-leaning sets & hip-hop selectors who think like musicians, not beat miners.

Patience moonlights as one of the most underworked muscles of the modern human. Time meanders at the same pace as always but yet everyone seems to be living their lives as through they are stretching it out like elastic jelly through their fingertips, ignoring the virtue necessary to ride each moment. At the end of patience always lies a reward. DJ Teeth, a veteran disciple of time, presents a sonic palette to Kasra V's V-Sion imprint that is for only the most determined. Symphonic synths and acid swells ebb and flow, vocal samples move like auditory hieroglyphics scrawled on cave walls, and other hidden messages appear, but only for those who wait. Patience will be rewarded.

On his second album for Bruk, hoyah חיה continues to take an unflinching look at his Jewish identity while confronted with the heinous actions of the Israeli state. Echoing the name of his Refuge Worldwide radio show, he examines the shared histories of the Jewish diaspora across the Middle East and North Africa — from Morocco to Uzbekistan and everywhere in between. Can I Get A Chayah? is an honest attempt to explore what Judaism could become at a time when the culture faces an existential crisis.

The sonic approach hoyah חיה takes on Can I Get A Chayah? is central to the album's theme, as hard-gated processing on every sound creates a disorienting effect aiming for a kind of 'functional transcendentalism'. From the opening strains of preceding single '808s n Trance Gates' the jagged stop-start intensity of the samples sets a head-spinning tone for the album. The source material comes from across the aforementioned Jewish diaspora, challenging the nationalist idea of the single Jewish state.

Balancing beauty and aggression, hoyah חיה also reaches to a strong cast of collaborators to round out his cultural explorations. Principle among these is the late David German, the US-born guitarist and songwriter behind Silver Jews, whose repeated, bewildered mantras on 'Shalom Aleichem' embody hoyah חיה's own struggles with faith in the face of current horrors. Internationally celebrated Turkish-descent German musician Derya Yıldırım graces 'Talmuds' with her haunting vocal — a tribute to ancient Jewish mysticism that gets passed through the album's unrelenting sonic framework. On 'The Lock' Muha tackles African transcendentalism, while Rael pulls no punches with the questions he poses on the barbed 'This Song Has A Different Title But It Can't Be Published Here Because Of "Reasons"'.

With further prayer recitals on 'Lekha Dodi' and 'The Nose' and videos examining the psychedelic nature of reading the talmud and repetitive prayer movement shuckling, hoyah חיה has taken his research deep into the spirituality of his heritage at a time of crisis for Jewish identity. Naturally, Can I Get A Chayah? is not an easy listening experience, but neither is it a bleak one. There is beauty, mystery, complexity and nuance woven within the stark approach — an intentional, considered statement on a culture much deeper and wider than the barbaric acts of an unrepresentative group of twisted ethno-nationalists.

It's hard to fathom Martin Bramah's trajectory from his beginnings as a guitarist/writer behind two crazily influential postpunk albums - The Fall's Live At The Witch Trials and Blue Orchids' The Greatest Hit (Money Mountain) (vocalist on the latter too, of course) - then nearly three decades of sporadic-at-best activity, offering releases just frequently enough to remind fans of his peculiar brilliance . . . before another stay in the void. Chalk it up to what you want - Mark E. Smith's utter usurpation of The Fall, his split from partner Una Baines after Blue Orchids' debut, the vague collapse of rash experimentation in `underground' music as early `80s nu-pop and American college rock diluted any real spirit, a few failed attempts at working with with Mark again . . . and maybe just life getting in the way. A sense of lost opportunities isn't tough to justify. Inasmuch as Martin was originally the singer for The Fall - Mark began as guitarist but couldn't play! - and given that the group's mythology was born in an era before that gang of Mancunian misfits had even thought of playing, it's high irony that 49 years after The Fall began, Martin has both become wildly prolific and the leader of a band with more rights of inheritance to The Fall's credibility than any other living person could justify . . .yet the band isn't remarkable for that as it is for the range and wealth extent of their collective powers and talent: two great and original guitarists, three of the UK's most daringly-skilled drummers, a genuine bass legend, and a brilliant spare Blue Orchid guitarist. Four albums in, the HOUSE Of ALL is getting ambitious, with each album a subtle improvement on the last, forging a path away from their pasts without denying a thing. Inklings differs from the first three for not having being largely improvised at first, with sounds, rhythm, groove and melody later forged into songs. They rehearsed! They had fun doing it! They're going on an extended tour! There were even extra tracks! We'll leave it to fans and critics to sit down and analyse the specifics of it all, but Steve, Si, Pete, Phil, Karl and Martin have made a bold and powerful album unlike any other you'll hear in 2026 . . . stately, majestic, bold and worthy of a group of real survivors. In perverse form, the album will be officially announced and preceded by a song not on the album!

Introducing the 4th instalment of the Pacific Coast House rebirth. We bring back another much sought-after 12” from The Coastal Commission & Jesse Outlaw. “Bring down the Walls” was a nod to Raze’s “Break for Love”, Robert Owens “Bring Down the Walls” and Ritchie Hawtin’s use of the Roland 606 throughout “Sheet One”. Long out of reach and fetching $100+ on Discogs, Atjazz’s freshly remastered editions are finally available .. “Let it Go” was never mastered & only ever cut to dub-plate. It has now been mastered & available in all it’s glory.

Coastal Commission “Bring Down the Walls” “Bring down the Walls” was a nod to Raze’s “Break for Love”, Robert Owens “Bring Down the Walls” and Ritchie Hawtin’s use of the Roland 606 throughout “Sheet One.” We gave the tune a Californian psychedelic twist with conga laden drums, a moody synth, low pulsing 303 patterns + Benjamin Zephaniahs patois call to “Move the Body Rhythmwize!” The first PCH releases had dropped Worldwide to International acclaim from DJ’s far and wide across the Globe with support in London, Paris & New York. However the local scene here in L.A that preached “Love, inclusion & Unity” was anything but that. L.A at that time was very tribal & divided up into 3 camps. If you weren’t affiliated with any of them (aka independent) then you were pretty much locked out of getting any kind of gig support or the Dj’s from those camps actually playing the music. The local feedback from Dj’s was that what we were making wasn’t “house,” but “Techno” which was absurd to me. “Bring Down the Walls” was a mantra to “move the bod”y and in doing so “bring down the walls” of separation not just in L.A but throughout society in general. Thank goodness for support from people like Terry Francis, Eddie Richards, DJ Deep & Philly Stalwart King Britt. After years of copies going for upward of $100+ on Discogs the now freshly remastered copies by At Jazz’s Martin Iveson are finally hitting the platters this Spring.

Jesse Outlaw “Let it Go” I met Jesse at Beatnonstop Records on Melrose Ave with Miguel Placencia in the late 90’s. Miguel (RIP) was a mainstay in the Underground scene and had always been very supportive of my endeavors. He had had success with a huge release on Yellow Orange and was working with Jesse under the moniker “When Worlds Collide.” I signed “Brighter Days” & “Set you Free” from them and released the tracks on my Seductive imprint. They told me that they were making the tracks on a Sony Playstation “Music Now” program and I was like FFS “What.s more Underground than that!?” Later Jesse gave me some of his solo work. The track “Let it Go” was never mastered & only ever cut to Dub-plate and featured on my 1st PCH mix “Pacific Coast House Sounds.” It has now been mastered by Martin Iveson and is available in all it’s glory. The dreamy vocal “You need to let it go” beckons over the top of driving percussive Latin beats and church organ which is a great compliment to the flip side of “Bring down the Walls.” All in all two West Coast stompers now finally available remastered on PCH in Orange vinyl.

Music never exists in a vacuum — every scene and sound evolves from the non-stop exchange of ideas between different groups and cultures. Traditions get passed down from one generation to the next, and then individual heads take influence from their own unique perspective. Sometimes, certain people strike upon fusions that spark massive new movements, but even those rarest innovations came from somewhere.

Jon E Cash knows this more than most — the legendary beats he started putting out at the turn of the millennium had their own disparate roots and influences which he had the motivation to put together into a sound he called sublow. There wasn't any other reference point for this music — when he took the first white labels of 'Drop Top Bimmer Kid' into Blackmarket Records in Soho, London, he had to describe it to a puzzled Nicky Blackmarket and J Da Flex as being, "between garage and hip-hop."

Playing catch-up in 2004, Rephlex Records nodded to sublow when trying to introduce a wider audience to the sounds which had been tearing up the London underground. "Grime. Sublow. Dubstep... It's Music. Different people call it different things depending on when they discovered it." But Jon E Cash's sound was rooted in more than the UK garage that had dominated the clubs through the late 90s, reaching way back to his pre-teen days when the first waves of hip-hop culture crossed the Atlantic and broke in the UK.

25 years on, it's a fine time to reflect on the impact of the music Cash made at the turn of the millennium. History looks back favourably on what he and the Black Ops crew were doing with sublow in the early 00s. The timing meant it ran in parallel with what was happening over East with Pay As U Go, Roll Deep et al, and of course there was crossover. Every DJ and every MC was on the hunt for the best beats they could find. But there's a whole different swagger to sublow — a different web of influences, a different intention and so a different outcome. It's still there in the beats Cash is making more than 20 years later — his 3dom Music label is carrying upfront productions with that sublow DNA coursing through their veins. Whatever the beat or the tempo, the drums are still hard as nails, and the bass is tuned for maximum rave damage.

With two deeply cherished compilations already in the bag, Luke Una steps up for the third volume in his É Soul Cultura series on Mr Bongo. A love letter to the dancefloor and its power to unite people from all corners of society amid growing division and extremist politics. Genre-spanning in nature, the 15 tracks travel between cosmic soul, boogie, proto-house, slo-mo technoid grooves, drum machine afro, astral bass-bugging futurism, jazz funk, dance, and disco. Each having the ability to move the body as much as the heart.
 
From his formative years in Sheffield to co-founding Manchester’s much-fabled Electric Chair with Justin Crawford, through to helming the iconic LGBTQ institutions of Homoelectric / Homobloc, Luke has spent 40 years immersed in dance music. His latest outlet, É Soul Cultura, has grown from a label to a globe-spanning events series with Luke holding residencies and embarking on tours across the world from Japan and Australia to America and Europe. 
 
“For me, the dancefloor was never about a one-dimensional, thudding, 130 BPM beat only. It's a much more dynamic, broader vision than that. I cut my teeth in an era where a 100 BPM record had as much impact, excitement, and energy as a 134 BPM dancefloor jazz funk or techno record”, Luke mentions. É Soul Cultura Volume 3 is the perfect embodiment of that notion: “It’s about four decades in the trenches playing dance music, the late-night afters, the shebeens, the basements, warehouse parties, the eight-hour journeys in East London, through to festival sets at Houghton and We Out Here. It’s music unconstrained by genre or tempo and more about making your body move”. 

But this isn’t simply a collection of disparate dance tracks; they carry meaning and soul. “It’s less about escapism, more about reconnection. My experience of post-covid has been the coming together of all the clans in various clubs and gatherings. A reaction to a very toxic world out there, where the aggro rhythms of division have sought to divide us, and people don't meet as often. The coming back together face-to-face in clubs has encouraged a real love in the air, there's a real togetherness and collective spirit”.
 
Opening up the compilation is a track that channels that very message, the transcendental, soul-rousing Harris & Orr ‘Spread Love’. Joining the dots from there, to the low-slung deep house closer of Fatdog ‘Remember’, you’ll find electronic drum machine Nigerian funk, sitting side by side with dancefloor Cape Verdean brilliance, a post-punk cover of Fela Kuti, rubbing shoulders with cosmic electro, and an Una-championed, 8-minute, kickless DJ Harvey remix. There’s jazz funk in various guises moving from boogie synth to astral travelling, slo-mo acidic raw techno, and a ‘79 soul stepper, alongside swirling percussive Italo disco and tribal-charged house. All infused with an innate ability to bring people together.
 
As society becomes increasingly fractured, É Soul Cultura Volume 3’s message is more than movement. It’s about dance music’s power to unify people from all walks of life and break down the barriers that divide us.

With two deeply cherished compilations already in the bag, Luke Una steps up for the third volume in his É Soul Cultura series on Mr Bongo. A love letter to the dancefloor and its power to unite people from all corners of society amid growing division and extremist politics. Genre-spanning in nature, the 15 tracks travel between cosmic soul, boogie, proto-house, slo-mo technoid grooves, drum machine afro, astral bass-bugging futurism, jazz funk, dance, and disco. Each having the ability to move the body as much as the heart.
 
From his formative years in Sheffield to co-founding Manchester’s much-fabled Electric Chair with Justin Crawford, through to helming the iconic LGBTQ institutions of Homoelectric / Homobloc, Luke has spent 40 years immersed in dance music. His latest outlet, É Soul Cultura, has grown from a label to a globe-spanning events series with Luke holding residencies and embarking on tours across the world from Japan and Australia to America and Europe. 
 
“For me, the dancefloor was never about a one-dimensional, thudding, 130 BPM beat only. It's a much more dynamic, broader vision than that. I cut my teeth in an era where a 100 BPM record had as much impact, excitement, and energy as a 134 BPM dancefloor jazz funk or techno record”, Luke mentions. É Soul Cultura Volume 3 is the perfect embodiment of that notion: “It’s about four decades in the trenches playing dance music, the late-night afters, the shebeens, the basements, warehouse parties, the eight-hour journeys in East London, through to festival sets at Houghton and We Out Here. It’s music unconstrained by genre or tempo and more about making your body move”. 

But this isn’t simply a collection of disparate dance tracks; they carry meaning and soul. “It’s less about escapism, more about reconnection. My experience of post-covid has been the coming together of all the clans in various clubs and gatherings. A reaction to a very toxic world out there, where the aggro rhythms of division have sought to divide us, and people don't meet as often. The coming back together face-to-face in clubs has encouraged a real love in the air, there's a real togetherness and collective spirit”.
 
Opening up the compilation is a track that channels that very message, the transcendental, soul-rousing Harris & Orr ‘Spread Love’. Joining the dots from there, to the low-slung deep house closer of Fatdog ‘Remember’, you’ll find electronic drum machine Nigerian funk, sitting side by side with dancefloor Cape Verdean brilliance, a post-punk cover of Fela Kuti, rubbing shoulders with cosmic electro, and an Una-championed, 8-minute, kickless DJ Harvey remix. There’s jazz funk in various guises moving from boogie synth to astral travelling, slo-mo acidic raw techno, and a ‘79 soul stepper, alongside swirling percussive Italo disco and tribal-charged house. All infused with an innate ability to bring people together.
 
As society becomes increasingly fractured, É Soul Cultura Volume 3’s message is more than movement. It’s about dance music’s power to unify people from all walks of life and break down the barriers that divide us.

As the world sinks deeper into screens and algorithms blur the line between creation and imitation, Nubiyan Twist return with Chasing Shadows, a record that reclaims the pulse, warmth and spontaneity of human connection.
The band’s fifth studio album is a rich and restless blend of jazz, afrobeat, hip hop and electronic textures, exploring the space between the organic and the digital. It’s music that moves, sweats, and breathes, made by real people in real rooms with heavyweight features bringing together varied voices from the music community which they inhabit.
Bandleader and producer Tom Excel explains: “We wanted to make something that felt joyous and defiantly human — something that couldn’t exist without that connection between people. You can get an AI to write a fugue in seconds, but it can’t capture the chemistry and chaos that happens when musicians lock in together. Chasing Shadows is our way of holding onto that.”
Folowing 2024’s acclaimed Find Your Flame, praised by Roling Stone, Jazzwise, NPR and more, Chasing Shadows pushes the band’s sound further into new soulful territory under Exce l’s expert guidance, featuring bright new vocalist Eniola and a glowing cast of icons and innovators. Malian star Fatoumata Diawara lights up the title track on a powerful slice of Afrobeat, Joe Armon Jones leads the dub workout ‘Rhythm Of You’ and the band take it back to their hip hop roots on great colabs with The Pharcyde’s Booty Brown, Ghanaian MC M.anifest and London dancehal favourite, Mr Wi liamz.
On Chasing Shadows, Nubiyan Twist continue to look outwards with their music but keep the focus firmly on humanity and positivity. It is an album which crosses continents and which shamelessly celebrates our co lective strength.
Fifth album from UK-based co lective Nubiyan Twist led by bandleader & producer Tom Excel (Africa Express, Onipa)
Featuring Booty Brown, Fatoumata Diawara, M.Anifest, Mr Wi liamz and Joe Armon Jones.
Pressed on Yelow Vinyl LP, or Green & Yelow splatter Vinyl LP (exclusively for UK indies).