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SUZI returns after the beautiful EP by Downstairs J with a new power compilation, including contributions by Beta Librae, Flørist, Dashiell, and Alfredo 92. This VA record explores modern takes on tech dimensions driven by catchy grooves.

The record debuts with an essential dancefloor killer by Dashiell, a talented musician based in Naarm/Melbourne. "Beep Beep" has a slick badass attitude driven by its frenetic core melody, accompanied by a spooky cosmic atmosphere, and makes this track an instant hit for dancefloors.

The second contribution, "Listening to the ants," comes from Beta Librae, one of NYC's most unique exports in recent years. Her signature contemporary deep-bleep-groovy sound can also be found in this composition, which has a slow and dubby feel filled with small insect-like details. A perfect symbiosis between organic and digital worlds.

On the flip side, we find "Dot Matrix," a groover by Berlin-based Flørist. Breaky tech-house with MPC-like swingy shakers channeling a balance between minimalistic details and slightly scratchy sound design. The bass-line, one of the key elements here, comes and goes over and over again, creating superb tension from beginning to end.

The final track "Bora" of the record comes from Copenhagen, by Alfredo 92. What makes this track so special is its propulsive drive without any kick drum in it. The association of wind-like groove elements combined with a subtle melody makes this beautifully crafted sonic tempest.

Curation and design by Cleveland. Mastering by Marco Pellegrino at Analog Cut. Distribution & production by One Eye Witness.

Tel Aviv-based producer Roy Rosenfeld is excited to announce the release of his latest EP, Simi.
Showcasing Rosenfeld’s unique blend of melodic house music, the three-track EP is sure to captivate listeners with its intricate rhythms and ethereal sound.

On Simi, Roy Rosenfeld seamlessly blends melodic and atmospheric sounds to create a transcendent listening experience. From the groovy and energetic title track opener ‘Simi’ to the hypnotic and calmer ‘Sansi’ and closing with the darker, heavenly ‘Moonshine’, this EP showcases Rosenfeld’s exceptional range, and ability to craft music that goes beyond the dancefloor.

In his South London flat, James Howard gestures apologetically at the mess of books, lined A4 paper and stationary at his desk. “I butcher poetry for a living,” he explains, “It isn’t a pretty job, but someone has to do it.” This being 2022, every emerging musician needs a side-hustle to keep the house warm. In the daytime, our host writes study guides to help teachers teach poetry to pupils who would rather be elsewhere. “I make sure the poems are clinically dead by the time they reach the schools.”
An explanation punctuated by a mildly contrite shrug makes you want to lean forward and remind Howard about some of the stuff other people are doing for a living. And, more to the point, aren’t doing. Which brings us to the real matter at hand. For Howard, foregrounding his own songs hasn’t always come naturally. An enthusiastic collaborator, he made two well-received albums with his previous band Blue House and played with the likes of Rozi Plain, Alabaster dePlume and his wife Dana Gavanski, as well as running his own music night with Sam Tyler in London, Incredible Society. It’s important to mention these creative hook-ups because Howard feels that, in one way or another, they all helped to give form and shape to the lilting lunar lullabies that would ultimately comprise his ravishing solo debut Peek-A-Boo. 

the remix release of japanese jazz fusion masterpiece of eiki nonaka which was released in the last summer.

uk balearic master “faze action” chosen one of the best track “flanged vortex” from the album(this track is licensed for great compilation “heisei no to” on music from memory). the result is timeless summer feel balearic slow house.

our new favorite artist in milano “simone du kunovich” chosen very emotional tune which is remind us pat metheny. his remix is stripped down no beats emotional house music. it will be your all time favorite closing track!

The triumvirate of Roky Erickson, Tommy Hall and Stacy Sutherland had to feature. Transcendent slower songs (often) don’t feature full band performances – so, no Splash One. The song had to be a band original. So, no Baby Blue. 13 unlucky for some. This compilation launches a new phase in the 13th Floor Elevators catalogue and previews the forthcoming series THE QUEST FOR PURE SANITY: the release in optimal quality of all surviving source material for all of the band’s recordings. ‘13 OF THE BEST’ has been mastered separately to vinyl, CD, digital and streaming for the best possible sound quality for each format. Each original source has been referenced to the earliest vinyl pressing and meticulously transferred at 96khz 24- bit resolution. Multitrack tapes of the original recording sessions have been newly mixed in strict accordance with the records as first released. ‘You’re Gonna Miss Me’, the band’s seminal single, is presented here for the first time in true stereo. Taken from the original multitrack session tape, the song has been mixed to stereo in accordance with the iconic mono 45 as recorded and engineered by Walt Andrus. ‘Slip Inside This House’ viewed by fans and critics alike as the Elevators’ masterpiece and one of the key psychedelic recordings of the era, is included on the LP as the edited mono single mix so the loudest possible cut can be achieved. The eight-minute stereo version is included on all other formats. ‘Never Another’, ‘Dr Doom’ and ‘Livin’ On’ from the band’s final sessions have been newly mixed but without the overdubs added almost a year after recording. While the session tapes survive, the overdubs do not. ‘Livin’ On’ features Roky Erickson’s original superior vocal performance instead of the overdub used on the ‘BULL OF THE WOODS’ LP. What is uniquely presented here is 100% Elevators as mixed and intended for the LP. No embellishments! ‘13 OF THE BEST’ is produced by 13th Floor Elevators official archivist and historian Paul Drummond who has also written sleeve notes with full track-by-track information.

The triumvirate of Roky Erickson, Tommy Hall and Stacy Sutherland had to feature. Transcendent slower songs (often) don’t feature full band performances – so, no Splash One. The song had to be a band original. So, no Baby Blue. 13 unlucky for some. This compilation launches a new phase in the 13th Floor Elevators catalogue and previews the forthcoming series THE QUEST FOR PURE SANITY: the release in optimal quality of all surviving source material for all of the band’s recordings. ‘13 OF THE BEST’ has been mastered separately to vinyl, CD, digital and streaming for the best possible sound quality for each format. Each original source has been referenced to the earliest vinyl pressing and meticulously transferred at 96khz 24- bit resolution. Multitrack tapes of the original recording sessions have been newly mixed in strict accordance with the records as first released. ‘You’re Gonna Miss Me’, the band’s seminal single, is presented here for the first time in true stereo. Taken from the original multitrack session tape, the song has been mixed to stereo in accordance with the iconic mono 45 as recorded and engineered by Walt Andrus. ‘Slip Inside This House’ viewed by fans and critics alike as the Elevators’ masterpiece and one of the key psychedelic recordings of the era, is included on the LP as the edited mono single mix so the loudest possible cut can be achieved. The eight-minute stereo version is included on all other formats. ‘Never Another’, ‘Dr Doom’ and ‘Livin’ On’ from the band’s final sessions have been newly mixed but without the overdubs added almost a year after recording. While the session tapes survive, the overdubs do not. ‘Livin’ On’ features Roky Erickson’s original superior vocal performance instead of the overdub used on the ‘BULL OF THE WOODS’ LP. What is uniquely presented here is 100% Elevators as mixed and intended for the LP. No embellishments! ‘13 OF THE BEST’ is produced by 13th Floor Elevators official archivist and historian Paul Drummond who has also written sleeve notes with full track-by-track information.

New Born is a group of four Italian immigrants who all lived in the area around Ulm/Bavaria.

Primarily they sang more Italian songs and were more on the traditional side of Italian music.

This record is a perfect example of what can happen when the drummer says “Let´s jam” to the musicians. The outstanding track “Galaxy” came out, the vibe of it is like an early piano house track and a hybrid of cosmic and disco.

The original copy of the record is nowadays a highly requested collector´s item, that skyrocketed in terms of prices. Originally released as a 45 single in 1981 the record was pressed in a very small run. Try to find a unicorn it’s easier.

We decided not to do only a simple reissue of it, we asked the creme de la creme of cosmic disco to make us a new born version of the track “Galaxy”. Camp Cosmic aficionados “Albion” & “Spacelexx” are responsible for two mesmerizing versions of this song. On top, we pressed the whole record as a 12″ from the original master tapes.

The always superb Sounds Of The City comes through here with some freshness and newness here via their newly minted 'Sounds Of The City, Dark' series. It finds the French outfit Catalogue debuting on the label with a sound that brings a different perspective to the new post-punk movement. Their sound is a mixing pot of an array of different influences and what you get is music that will get you nodding to the grooves while your mind gets lost exploring synthetic elements, angular guitar riffs, robotic rhythms and lovely deep bass.

PURPLE VINYL


A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Eric D. Johnson rarely lingers at one location too long. As a kid growing up in the Midwest, Johnson's family moved around a lot, but it wasn't until he became a touring musician years later that motion became a central part of his identity. That transient lifestyle stoked an enduring reverence for the world he watched pass by through a van window. A sense of place is a unifying theme he's revisited with Fruit Bats throughout its many lives. From the project's origins in the late '90s as a vehicle for Johnson's lo-fi tinkering to the more sonically ambitious work of recent years, Fruit Bats has often showcased love songs where people and locations meld into one. It's a loose song structure that navigates what he calls "the geography of the heart." "The songs exist in a world that you can sort of travel from one to another," says Johnson. "There are roads and rivers between these songs." Those pathways extend straight through the newest Fruit Bats album, aptly titled A River Running to Your Heart . Self-produced by Johnson_a first for Fruit Bats_with Jeremy Harris at Panoramic House just north of San Francisco, it's Fruit Bats' tenth full-length release and one that finds the project in the middle of a creative resurgence. After two decades of making music, hard-earned emotional maturity has seeped into Johnson's songs, resulting in a more complex sound that's connected with audiences like no other previous version of Fruit Bats. A River Running to Your Heart represents the fullest realization of that creative vision to date. It's a sonically diverse effort that largely explores the importance of what it means to be home, both physically and spiritually. And while that might seem like a peculiar focus for an artist who's constantly in motion, for Fruit Bats, home can take many forms_from the obvious to the obscure. Lead single "Rushin' River Valley" is a self-propelled love song written about Johnson's wife that clings to the borrowed imagery of the place where she grew up in northern California. Then, there's the gentle and unfussy acoustic ballad "We Used to Live Here," which looks back to a time of youthful promise and cheap rent. But the wistful "It All Comes Back" is perhaps the most stunning and surprising track on the album, Johnson's production skills on full display. Built upon intricate layers of synths, keyboards, and guitars, it's a pitch-perfect blend of tone and lyricism that taps into our shared apprehensions and hopes for a post-pandemic life. "We lost some time / But we can make it back / Let's take it easy on ourselves, okay?" sings a world-weary but ultimately reassuring Johnson in the song's opening lines. It's the kind of performance that makes you hope Fruit Bats stays in this one place, at least for a little while longer.

BLUE & BONE VINYL

Eric D. Johnson rarely lingers at one location too long. As a kid growing up in the Midwest, Johnson's family moved around a lot, but it wasn't until he became a touring musician years later that motion became a central part of his identity. That transient lifestyle stoked an enduring reverence for the world he watched pass by through a van window. A sense of place is a unifying theme he's revisited with Fruit Bats throughout its many lives. From the project's origins in the late '90s as a vehicle for Johnson's lo-fi tinkering to the more sonically ambitious work of recent years, Fruit Bats has often showcased love songs where people and locations meld into one. It's a loose song structure that navigates what he calls "the geography of the heart." "The songs exist in a world that you can sort of travel from one to another," says Johnson. "There are roads and rivers between these songs." Those pathways extend straight through the newest Fruit Bats album, aptly titled A River Running to Your Heart . Self-produced by Johnson_a first for Fruit Bats_with Jeremy Harris at Panoramic House just north of San Francisco, it's Fruit Bats' tenth full-length release and one that finds the project in the middle of a creative resurgence. After two decades of making music, hard-earned emotional maturity has seeped into Johnson's songs, resulting in a more complex sound that's connected with audiences like no other previous version of Fruit Bats. A River Running to Your Heart represents the fullest realization of that creative vision to date. It's a sonically diverse effort that largely explores the importance of what it means to be home, both physically and spiritually. And while that might seem like a peculiar focus for an artist who's constantly in motion, for Fruit Bats, home can take many forms_from the obvious to the obscure. Lead single "Rushin' River Valley" is a self-propelled love song written about Johnson's wife that clings to the borrowed imagery of the place where she grew up in northern California. Then, there's the gentle and unfussy acoustic ballad "We Used to Live Here," which looks back to a time of youthful promise and cheap rent. But the wistful "It All Comes Back" is perhaps the most stunning and surprising track on the album, Johnson's production skills on full display. Built upon intricate layers of synths, keyboards, and guitars, it's a pitch-perfect blend of tone and lyricism that taps into our shared apprehensions and hopes for a post-pandemic life. "We lost some time / But we can make it back / Let's take it easy on ourselves, okay?" sings a world-weary but ultimately reassuring Johnson in the song's opening lines. It's the kind of performance that makes you hope Fruit Bats stays in this one place, at least for a little while longer.

The third EP from cult producer M.O.O.N finally gets a vinyl release rounding off a triple-release month alongside the represses of the eponymous debut EP and Particles EP.

A more brooding offering finds M.O.O.N exploring a deep house avenue with three tracks themed around ideas of driving through the city at twilight.

All tracks have been remastered by Brendan Zacharias aka Assembler Code giving the EP a new level of punch in the club and on home hi-fi.

Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

Red Vinyl

Following the success of Holo's groove-driven debut Atlas EP, he's back with another dreamy 3-tracker on Lost Palms.

Drawing from pop, classic rock, acid and 90's hip hop, he has managed to hone a truly idiosyncratic sound which at once is recognisable and takes you by surprise. The aptly-named Technicolour EP demonstrates the Melbourne producer's prowess in creating rich, warm, chromatic soundscapes which are downtempo but pack plenty of body. Following the shuffly house number 'Juniper', reverberating chords and MPC claps define 'Shosa' before the balearic-tinged 'Try' leaves a sweet taste in our mouths via acid melodies and airy pads.

Down across the railroad tracks, on a narrow road called Church Street in West Point, Mississippi, there"s a windowless brick building that"s been converted into a house of worship called The Message Center. One chilly January morning, the original members of a little-known gospel group from Aberdeen, Mississippi, called the Staples Jr. Singers gathered there to play some of their early songs for the first time in nearly 50 years. Many of these songs, which they wrote when they were just teenagers, first appeared on their only full-length release in 1975, When Do We Get Paid (Luaka Bop, 2022), but none have been revisited-until now.

Das vierte Temples Album 'Exotico', das von Sean Ono Lennon produziert wurde, spielt in dieser wundersamen Umgebung einer utopischen Insel, die sich Sänger/Gitarrist James Bagshaw, Bassist Tom Walmsley, Keyboarder/Gitarrist Adam Smith und Schlagzeuger Rens Ottink ausgedacht haben. Mit ihrer schillernden Collage aus Psychedelia, Glamrock und Dream-Pop erweckt 'Exotico' diese bunte Welt mit gefühlvollen Melodien, futuristischen Synthesizern und fesselnden Gitarrenriffs zum Leben und erkundet dabei ein ganzes Spektrum existenzieller Themen. "The idea of the record is that we’re transporting people to a place they’ve never experienced, a beautiful destination that’s meant for everybody", erzählt Bagshaw.

Abgemischt von Dave Fridmann (Beach House, Spoon, The Flaming Lips) und hauptsächlich in Lennons Studio im Bundesstaat New York aufgenommen, setzt 'Exotico' die Zusammenarbeit fort, die auf der von Lennon produzierten Single 'Paraphernalia' (2020) begonnen wurde. Dafür erweiterte die aus Kettering stammenden UK-Band ihre musikalische Palette um eine enorme Bandbreite an Instrumenten - passend für ein Werk, das von klassischen Symphonien über italienische Horror-Soundtracks bis hin zu Girlgroups der Brill Building-Ära inspiriert ist.

Five years since his last solo outing, Pev makes a very welcome return on his own label for Livity Sound's 60th release.

Having focused on expanding the innovative scope of Livity through a prolific release schedule, frequent label nights and the 10th anniversary Molten Mirrors compilation, on the 'Pulse E.P.', Pev delivers on his reputation for inventive, sharply-focused club music with four lean, focused club tracks across the tempo range.

From the crooked formation and pointillist bleeps of ‘Pulse I’ through the light-footed percussion and airy melodies of ‘Pulse II’ to ‘Pulse III’s strafing techno synths and ‘Pulse IV’s surefooted, bass-loaded house jack, it’s an EP of variation and consistency in equal measure. From the infectious, alien melodic lines to the elegant angles of the drums, not to mention the weighty subs, it’s all strikingly fresh and unmistakably Pev.

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.

On Giver Taker, the gorgeous debut album by Anjimile, death and life are always entwined, wrapping around each other in a dance of reverence, reciprocity, and, ultimately, rebirth. Giver Taker is confident, intentional and introspective. Anjimile Chithambo (they/them, he/him) wrote much of the album while in treatment for drug and alcohol abuse, as well as while in the process of living more fully as a nonbinary trans person. Loss hovers over the album, whose songs grieve for lost friends ("Giver Taker") and family members ("1978") along with lost selves ("Maker," "Baby No More," "In Your Eyes.") But here, grief yields an opening: a chance for new growth. Each song on the album is its own micro-journey, adding up to a transformative epic cycle created in collaboration with bandmate Justine Bowe of Photocomfort and New-York based artist/producer Gabe Goodman. "1978" and "Maker" both begin as Sufjan Stevens-esque pastoral ballads with Chithambo's mesmerizing voice foregrounded against minimal instrumentation and swell into the realm of the majestic through the addition of warm, steady instrumentation (informed by the mix of 80's pop and African music Chithambo's Malawi-born parents played around the house) and harmonies by Bowe. "In Your Eyes" starts out hushed and builds to a crescendo via a mighty chorus inspired by none other than the Lion King. The allusion is fitting: each song encapsulates a heroic voyage, walked alone until accompanied by kindred souls. The choirs present throughout are equally deliberate. Chithambo grew up as a choir boy himself, and several songs (notably "Maker") grasp not only towards reconciliation between his trans identity and his parents' strong religious beliefs, but towards reclaiming his trans identity as an essential part of his own spirituality.

The makossa man is back after a hiatus of 18 years with timeless cover versions from Simoncino, F.T.G, Groove Boys Project & Carlos Nilmmns ! Limited edition, for DJ use only.

When we established Balmat in 2021, neither of us could have imagined that within two years, we’d be putting out an album by one of our musical heroes: Mike Paradinas, aka µ-Ziq. The British producer has been an inspiration to label co-founders Albert Salinas and Philip Sherburne since the 1990s. In fact, his album-length remix project The Auteurs Vs µ-Ziq was one of the very first pieces of electronic music that Philip bought, way back in 1994. To have the opportunity to release his music now feels like a real full-circle moment.

Paradinas, of course, needs no introduction. Under a slew of aliases, chief among them µ-Ziq, the British artist revolutionized leftfield electronic music in the 1990s—coincidentally, this year marks the 30th anniversary of his debut album, Tango N’ Vectif, for his friend and sometime collaborator Aphex Twin’s Rephlex label—and his label Planet Mu has built up a formidable catalog of visionary, forwardlooking records, mapping virtually every corner of the electronic spectrum. With 1977, he turns the clock backward in a sense, and not just with the album’s title: Rooted in classic ambient and electronic sounds, these 15 tracks evoke the anything-goes spirit of the early ’90s, before the tools and tropes had calcified into cut-and-dried styles.

There’s no shortage of familiar sounds on 1977. There are echoes of raves and chillout rooms and transmissions from the fringes of techno; there are detuned synths and glistening reverb tails and, above all, gauzy vox pads, the eerie glue that holds it all together. The title, he says, is meant to invoke a general sense of nostalgia, bookmarking a year in his boyhood when he became more selfaware. More than anything, 1977 sounds like µ-Ziq distilled: Stripped of his signature breakbeats and customary chaos, Paradinas’ first-ever strictly (well, mostly) ambient album presents the essence of his music in a whole new light.

Along the way Paradinas touches on dark-ambient drones (“Marmite”), horror-film themes (“Belt & Carpet”), jungle breaks (“Mesolithic Jungle”), and even house music (“Houzz 13”), which marks the first bona fide dance-floor moment on Balmat to date). Yet the album never—to our ears, anyway— feels expressly retro. Rather, Paradinas plucks timeless sounds out of the ether and gives them a gentle tap, spinning them into unexpected new orbits. At times, 1977 feels like an experience of extended déjà vu: When we first listened to it, we had the sense that we already knew this music. It was as though we had heard it years ago, perhaps on a battered cassette tape lent to us by a friend, and been searching for it ever since. We hope you feel the same.