Cerca:into it over it

Le Chatroom, a record label established in 2016 by the English producer Kouslin, searches for the missing link between underground bass music and outer national sounds. Its music is defined by the blend of synthetic and organic tones, modern / classic instruments and low- end heavy percussive rhythms.

Pushing artists from all around the globe that share the same love for this newfound sound, Kouslin's aim with Le Chatroom is to promote musical diversity, open-mindedness and experimentation at a time when unity between cultures is crucial. With 'LCR001' the label advances into a new physical environment from which this release should be experienced.

Real talk and native percussion establish the steady climax of 'Brothers', the A-side of Le Chatroom's inaugural wax release. Kouslin cuts through this sediment with a bright flute, before the state of the sound switches into something far darker and meditative. By placing several samples at irregular intervals, the Londoner achieves a fascinating charm that'll unite us all.

Booming bass in 'Gyals' lingers with a steady pace while percy tribal hits forge a raw groove that's far from common. With this movement, the producer from Bristol disintegrates the sense of a generic production and sticks to his true nature. Through this it becomes clear that Galtier has his polyrhythms down to a science.

Londoner Sheik clinches the B-side with a craze that unveils a nearly psychotic sense of sample architecture. Pushing crystal clear 808 kicks in- between the haunting atmospheres and a wall of pressure simply becomes one of his most inventive takes documented on wax. If you love to swerve through a minefield, the odd 'Oxram' would be your favourite pick off this first outline.

The three producers that feature on 'LCR001' pass on their fundamentals to conjure Le Chatroom's philosophy red-handed. Together they do the imprint's name justice by handing over critical bass repertoire that'll excite many!

Once upon a car park.
In the mid-90s, DJ Steve and Luca Lozano bonded over Mobb Deep, Droors, and the finer points of frontside flips. Soundtracked by skate videos and boombox freestyles, those formative years were more about asphalt than machines.
Time moved on. Steve found his way to stages from Sheffield to Sonar as half of an electro duo; Luca chased underground frequencies from London to Berlin. Life zigzagged. Contact faded.
Fast forward a couple of decades and a random reconnection just before lockdown sparked version 2.0 of their friendship—and a new chapter of collaboration. What started as nostalgia turned into studio marathons and shared sonic visions. The result: Closed Circuit.
This is the sound of two old friends channeling 20-year loops—where electro meets B-boy attitude, house nods to early Warp, and vocoders clash with vintage drum machines. Think sun-bleached jeans, fuzzed-out tape hiss, and that pre-internet rush of discovery.
To top it off, Running Back’s own Roman Flügel contributes a sharp remix flip, and the sleeve features archival photos taken by Lozano during his early London days (2002–2005)—moments frozen in grain and sweat from some of the city’s first DIY parties.
Friendship. Frequencies. Full circle.
Closed Circuit.

2025 Repress

The COEO boys need no introduction anymore. Their two last singles made it into the sets of so many DJs. They are among the emerging artists of that new German scene of kids that make house music inspired by old Jazz and Funk records. The boys are mad about rare vinyl. And they love to make music with a positive spirit. Yes, there is something sunny in their tracks. Something that instantly makes you want to move. We heard so many mixtapes that started with a COEO track. Makes sense: They are perfect to set a vibe. A good mood. But if you know that the COEO boys work in a studio over the roofs of Munich, with a fantastic view over the lights of the city, with a great vibe where you see all the glammy colors of the light in the night..... then you understand why COEO's music sounds as it sounds.

A noughties classic, an earworming anthem, an eventual schoolyard ringtone favourite; Roman Flügel’s once inescapable ‘Geht’s Noch?’ celebrates turning 21 on Running Back, refreshed and remixed by a scene-spanning set of artists paying keen tribute to its absurdist energy.
Casually released as part of a Cocoon Records compilation in 2004, ‘Geht’s Noch?’ rose from the depths with the support of Sven Väth, becoming an international phenomenon, conquering and uniting the dominant scenes of minimal and electroclash alike. Some have said it laid the foundations for the ‘Dirty Dutch’
house scene, albeit from over the border in Germany.
Well known for injecting much-needed levity into the contemporary club landscape via her Live From Earth parties, DJ Gigola adds additional firepower to ‘Geht’s Noch?’, inducing a planet-shaking kick drum, before sending the track’s signature bleeps into nonsensical Morse code for even greater pleasure. Another rave
culture connoisseur, Luca Lozano, offers two alternate takes; his ‘Technocs’ mix rolls deep with additional cowbells, robotic voice commands and stadium-sized claps. Meanwhile, the ‘Gehts Garage Remix’ draws a savvy connection with the original’s as-yet-untapped UK funky potential.
Peder Mannerfelt, who straddles the line between innovation, functionality, humor and seriousness quite like its original author, takes ‘Geht’s Noch?’ to truly wuthering heights. His remix builds unexpected drama and catharsis around the enduring riff, before a collaboration with studio partner Par Grindvik as Aasthma
spins the club out with a glossy, anime-tinted take, full of whimsy and colour.
And while the digital release of Geht’s Noch? also spans interpretations from Audion, Domnik Eulberg & Moguai, this vinyl release presses Steve Angello vs Who’s Who remix to wax, that which helped take ‘Geht’s Noch?’ out of the underground and into the stratosphere. Twenty years on, and Flügel’s offbeat hit is always ascending. Love it or hate it, ‘Geht’s Noch?' will still get you good.
Words by John Loveless

»White Noise« is a cooperation project between raster-media and the Max Planck Institute for Empirical Aesthetics. Artistic sound projects generated in the context of the scientific research institute will appear at irregular intervals. The themes and questions of empirical aesthetics research are taken up, questioned or challenged in very different ways. »White Noise« is conceived as an audio archive of the MPIEA artists in residence which records the artistic works on vinyl and documents the respective concepts and working methods in text form.

Victioria Keddie’s »Pshal P’shaw« (white noise #002) is a multimedia exploration delving into phonetic expression’s auditory and rhythmic nuances of phonetic expressions through an amalgamation of text, sound, video, data, and customized learning software. Drawing inspiration from the painter and architectural theorist Hermann Finsterlin who made speculative architectural renderings, the project originated during a residency at the Max Planck Institute of Empirical Aesthetics in Frankfurt in 2023.

The project’s engagement with the sonic landscape of the eight diphthongs in US English, documented through recorded sessions at EEG labs with participants of diverse international backgrounds, is not just a technical analyses. The applied script for the recording session, infused with a contemporary Western US dialect, ventures beyond, exploring the primal essence of phonetic expression and its impact on the oral landscape of mouth, throat, and tongue.

This work focuses on the spoken aspect of language: the art of oration, conversation, and mimicry. It reflects the beauty of our perpetual change, speaking directly to our humanity and the raw, tender moments of existence. It embraces the awkward, beautiful and vulnerable essence of our shared human experience.

Victoria Keddie is a multidisciplinary artist delving into sound, video, installation, and performance. Her work uncovers hidden narratives within ordinary artifacts and spaces, emphasizing their role in shaping our collective story. The examination of acoustic phenomena and language is a recurring theme in her artistic work. Keddie’s current projects navigate the acoustic complexity of language and dialects.

For over a decade, Keddie was co-director of E.S.P. TV, exploring the televisual medium for performance and sound. Keddie has performed and exhibited internationally. Recent fellowships include the NYSCA/NYFA for Music/Sound (2022), the Max Planck Institute for Empirical Aesthetics (2023), and the Bemis Center for Contemporary Art, Sound Art and Experimental Music Fellowship (2024).

»White Noise«, 40 p. magazine English/German, vinyl LP, cardboard box

The latest transmission on Samurai tunes into half-time intensity with a psychedelic edge courtesy of leading French practitioner Vardae. Applying techno hypnotism and cinematic atmospheres to his snaking beat constructions, the Lyon-based artist delivers a pitch-perfect exercise in mystical meditation that follows a natural path from the Ancestral Voices LP.

Since first emerging around 2017, Vardae has been determined to establish a sound unbound by genre restrictions. To date he's successfully moved between cult labels such as Non Series and Ooda while pivoting from linear 4/4 to crooked broken beat without disrupting his immersive, finely sculpted production style.
Alongside his releases, Vardae is also responsible for the ouroboros festival that takes place every year in central France. Last summer, after the dancefloor closed on the final night of the the event, fabled Dutch transcendental ambient group Son Of Chi made an acoustic concert around the campfire that cast a spell over everyone present. This experience formed the inspirational basis for Vardae's new EP, drawing on the instinctive power of insistent rhythm and the spiritual intrigue that lies behind subtly dissonant tones - shadows cast by refined, restrained synthesis flickering in the imagined light of the flames.

From the rattle of timbale on 'The Light Motion' to the laser-focused ripples that charge through 'Voices Of Dispossession', Vardae bends and shapes his drum work with exacting intention across this EP. Treading the line between 85 and 170BPM, he approaches fierce peaks in his tracks with an exacting patience, building to the arp-soaked climax of 'Flaming As A Cloud' and its ecstatic, melodic crescendo.
Proudly individual and drawing from the deepest of musical experiences, Vardae's latest statement promises similarly profound moments when these pieces come into contact with the right souls and the right sound in the right setting.

2024"s retrospective box We Have Dozens of Titles brought the revelatory 1993-"98 output of Gastr del Sol back into the world of physical objects, following a decade in which most of their music was mostly available online. The ruckus that the box generated in the so-called real world was intense enough to warrant some more fun excursions; thus, we begin our vinyl reissue series of the Gastrlog at the end of the line, with their "art-pop masterpiece" somebody"s words, not ours - but we"ll take "em): Camoufleur. Gastr del Sol released Camoufleur in February of 1998. It was a ringing down of the curtain on an extraordinary five years of music making (and unmaking) with one of the best albums of that era - or any other. Once out in the world, Camoufleur went over like gangbusters. Listening in today, it still does - time has only burnished its unique superpowers. Upon release, of course, and with the same sense of enigma in which they"d issued their music, Gastr del Sol abruptly vanished, leaving all that stuff to time. And by golly, in time we"ve found it again, and huzzah almighty, have recommitted it to ol" reliable, the singular magic of the vinyl platter, for the enjoyment and edification of a new nation.

One of the most politically charged terms of the 20th century, the Iron Curtain was a metaphor for political and cultural division. In a post-war telegram Winston Churchill referred to the fault line that ran through Europe between East and West as "an Iron Curtain is drawn down upon their front. We do not know what is going on behind".



In this two-part album, as far as jazz is concerned, we will showcase, describe and celebrate exactly what was 'going on behind'. We see that music is the power supreme, with the ability to transcend all barriers, be they physical, political or metaphorical.



Our liner notes illustrate the complex and contradictory history of Soviet jazz, and the tracks we've chosen cover the key period of the early 1960s to the 1980s. It was during these dark years of the Cold War that the Soviet Union and its satellite states produced a number of outstanding artists playing in a variety of styles. The impact of modernism, from hard bop and Latin to modal and cool jazz, had found its way through cracks in the curtain. The deeply-felt ancestral strains of traditional European folk music were combined with the exciting new and progressive sounds of the West, and a radical, intoxicating brew was created that no amount of guns, tanks or polonium tea could overcome.



We chronicle the triumph of jazz at a time of extreme geopolitical conflict. What went on behind the Iron Curtain in these countries was once mysterious and unknown to the West, but the perseverance of their artists provided sound and light amid the secretive, dark days of the communist-capitalist standoff. There was no end of life-affirming spiritual jazz behind the Iron Curtain.



"Whether it's by improvisation in the African-American jazz tradition, or by a village kobza player standing on top of a damn hill - he feels connected to the stars."

On June 6th, Death In Vegas return with new album ‘Death Mask’, where disintegration, overload and total sonic immersion tell a personal tale. With dirty circuitry and rough-hewn textures at the fore, this is gritty, unpolished techno; an audio outlier that’s full of personality, and a bold artistic statement. It’s closer in DNA to the grainy growl of sunn O))), or the searing intensity of Underground Resistance at their fiercest, and as far from generic influencer business as you could possibly get.

“I’ve been soaking in Ramleh’s ‘Hole In the Heart’, the machine funk of Terrence Dixon’s Population One, Jamal Moss’ psychedelic techno jams, the stunning minimalism of Mika Vanio’s Ø and Panasonic, the layered drones of LOOP, and drowning in the acid of TM 404”

Broader inspirations are weaved into the album’s fabric too; from his Thameside Metal Box studio and evocations of nautical ghosts, to lamentations for a broken world, to memories of a youthful Detroit pilgrimage, and the innocent fraternity of rave euphoria, there’s a lot going on, acting as a chronicle of moments, and locations.

"Bassland Prophecy" was a collection of Southern California musicians, including Alex Xenophon (Deep Squared), Stuart Breidenstein (formerly of Skylab 2000), Alissa Kueker (vocals), and Maxx Vaxx (Euterpre, Butterfly Garden).

The act nourished and grew the emerging LA scene and was a renegade force in live electronic improvisation. Rather than composing full tracks, Breidenstein stated over email that they built musical "ingredients" on the fly, syncing DOS and hardware sequencers mid-performance. Their unpredictable sets, from illegal raves to makeshift desert parties, resulted in electrifying, unforgettable sonic trips.

Recalling 90s LA, Breidenstein said: “Before the internet, finding a rave was an adventure. You’d get a flyer with a phone number, call it the night of the event, then drive—sometimes 100 miles or more from a map point to the actual party. The scene was raw and underground, built by music obsessives hunting for the freshest sounds.”

Two standout tracks from 1996—“Nine / Deeper” and “Blue and Purple Starship of Trust”—perfectly represent their unique genre-bending concoctions. Against all odds, the recordings survived and have been given new life, remastered and reissued on Bristol-based *Sex Tapes From Mars*. To produce the wizardry, their setup included a Juno 106, Yamaha FB-01, a Roland S330 sampler, and a Sequential Circuits Pro-One mono synth with external MIDI, and some guitar effects pedals.

“Nine / Deeper,” born from one of their many spontaneous studio sessions, became eerily intertwined with recurring appearances of the number 9 and black cats. So much was the frequency of apophenia episodes that paranoia began to take over the artists. Recorded in a makeshift living room studio, the 14-minute excursion traverses genres and tempos, beginning quick and hypnotic, and climaxing chuggy and drenched in adlibbed acid lines, culminating in a surreal and legendary live performance in Hollywood. The piece captures the raw spontaneity of their sets, crafted with vintage gear, cassette tape recordings, and, as always, a DIY ethos. Breidenstein states, “While improvised sessions often failed, when it succeeded, it was definitely a kind of infectious magic the listener would recognize.”

“The Blue and Purple Starship of Trust” is a deeply personal piece, named after when Breidenstein saw a heavenly blue morning glory on a walk around his neighborhood, and emerged from heartbreak and the following deep depression entrenching his life at the time. Recorded in a single take onto cassette tape, blending piano, guitar, and heart-rending vocals into an emotional, dreamlike journey. The track starts with a lush, cascading synth sound, bolstered up by rolling, reverbing downtempo drums. Using Sequential Circuits Pro-One throughout, the rippling synths and off-key piano licks act like pipetted droplets of water, all elements bleeding into each other in some kind of hallucinogenic swelling, reflecting Breidenstein’s fading relationship. The guitar part is a nod to Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine,” and Breidenstein recalls just “bawling as the guitar line was recorded.”

Created in a time of artistic struggle, living in an old school bus, surviving on instant noodles while hauling their gear from venue to venue, and scraping by on gig money, these recordings act as rare artifacts of a movement that thrived on passion and perseverance, standing as a poignant testament to resilience. Though they released a handful of tracks, ranging from deep house to ambient to techno, their true legacy lay in their high-energy, genre-blurring live shows, which are powerfully encapsulated within these recordings and leave a lasting impact on underground electronic music today.

For the latest Klasse Wrecks release, the label combine with Japan's finest festival and events crew Rainbow Disco Club to collaboratively present WRECKSRDC. Overrocket were an electro-pop band from Tokyo that enjoyed a grip of great releases in the early 2000s while signed to Neon Discs and its parent label Aten. During a digging session Luca Lozano discovered the forgotten tracks 'Duralumin' and 'Shadow of the Sun' and immediately set out trying to contact the band's members to arrange a re-release and remix. A few months of patient trying, the connection was finally made and wheels were set in motion. Musically the EP conjures up perfectly the sonics of that time, a grey area between analog convention and the unexplored territories of new digital freedom. Shadow Of The Sun is electro-pop perfection, with breezy vocals and a bouncing beat that sounds like nothing else around...past, present or future. Duralumin is a more dancey collection of blips and beats, one that will make sense in the current return to early 2000s aesthetics. To round out the release and propel it into 2025, KW label bosses take a track each and interpret in their own way. Lozano revisits his electro roots with two remixes of Shadow of the Sun, distorted 808s and growling 101 basslines provide a simple backdrop for the perfect vocals. Mr. Ho takes Duralumin into a more driving and pacey direction, upping the energy and excitement with fast percussion and a huge side chained breakdown that recalls the unbridled rawness of the early 2000s, when everything was just a little bit more fun. Keeping within the confines of Japan and in an effort to bring everything full circle, the label enlisted Japanese artist Gonno to master the tracks for an updated modern sound. The tracks themselves being mastered a few miles from where they were originally penned over 20 years ago.

*all original recordings from mid 90s Estonian released cassettes. Fascinating interpretations of the UK breakbeat and Jungle sounds recorded when the world felt like a much bigger place.

Since hearing the first breakbeats via the Finnish radio nightly shows introducing the burgeoning UK scene, Virko Veskoja, later head figure of Lu:k, was completely swept away by this new technological language that sounded like machines trying to initiate contact with people. The fluttering rhythm patterns, strings and vocal lines haunting the pathways of the infinite network. Like hip hop taken over by Skynet.

Reimagining it all in mid-90’s Estonia, a fresh and dirt-poor republic newly welcomed to the family of sovereign states on the outskirts of Eastern Europe, was challenging, to say the least. Finally, with the help of entry level music programs, custom-made soundcards and self-built computers by the other Lu:k-head Tõnis Valk, Lu:k took the first tentative steps in the history of Estonian jungle.

Eight Lu:k cuts have been compiled into a handy selection, a true sign of the times when uncertainty came with certain hope and optimism – new territories to chart, new frontiers to conquer. A time of innocence captured so sublimely in Lu:k’s music.

The compilation starts with menacing orchestration that sounds like the birth of a civilization, like in „2001: A Space Odyssey“, or the arrival of Godzilla, only to give way to sweeeet strings and the inimitable Minnie Riperton in “Lovin U”, combining all the essential elements of Lu:k in a track that has remained uncorroded by time since its inception in 1994.

The following “Demo 3” is its antithesis – fast and nervous, a harbinger of the darker days of neurofunk and techstep ahead. More in line with the social realities of the time, when something (or someone) could materialise out of thin air and attack you just as violently as those beats here.

“La:v” was Lu:k’s signature track throughout their brief career that went on only for a few years, 1994-1997. Lifted to heaven’s by Petula Clarks’s wonderful vocals, it perfectly captures the pure essence of creation. “I made it in my bedroom. Something like that just came out. Sorry”, says Virko apologetically.

From the themes of love we are led towards darker scenarios again with “Drunk-Drive”, a more vengeful cut reminiscent of early Ram Records’ nocturnal dangers, skylines shaped by basslines. Previously only available on the uber-rare “Raadiomaja valvelauas” CD compilation from 2005.

“In the Limelight” is lifted from their second album “Dreams in Drums” from 1996 (only released on cassette), and if it’s meant to address their new-found underground celebrity status in Estonia, there is surprisingly little elation here – the track rather consists of introspective strings and beats that sound almost melancholic.

Out of the remaining three tracks, “Proov2mix” and “Kadunud leitud” are the result of a treasure hunt amongst the old, obsolete harddrives – little nuggets that were condemned to obscurity until now. Between them, another vocal-led cut “010”, a non-album track only featured on two comps until now, is a strong reminder of Lu:k’s prodigious ability to handle vocal lines and morph them together with their own weaving synthetic melodies, strong pads and commanding beats.

Lu:k’s music has been largely unavailable for the better part of this century, with original tapes and CD’s changing hands for a small fortune. This vinyl release couldn’t come at a better time, bringing a seminal chapter of Estonian dance music’s mythical history to light again, both for the old-school acolytes and new converts.

All music by Virko Veskoja

After over 50 events of Bristol's beloved Club Blanco, the city's anointed high priest of night, Chez de Milo, is crystallising his party's dimension-hopping hedonism into a label, calling on an extended family of esteemed producers and musicians to make it happen.

First up is Johnny Aux, aka Quinn Whalley (Paranoid London, Sworn Virgins, Decius), delivering two offerings accompanied by remixes from Jamie Paton and Chez de Milo himself.

Supersonic blends a hyperspace bassline with euphoric 90s synth elevation that delivers us to a blissful dance floor crescendo, where you've been dancing for hours—maybe days— when the sun appears over the horizon and pierces through the club's blacked-out windows. Chez de Milo's re-rub wraps you up vines of a living, breathing forest, where all your favourite flora and fauna summon you to the dappled light of a clearing, front left of the booth.

On The Train locks you into a rolling groove, and electro slaps and smacks. It feels covered in equal parts space dust and the dust of an old crate of records, where this forgotten banger has been buried deep for 25 years, waiting for the right hands to pull it out. Jamie Paton veers off down a stranger track, conducting a driving Italo beat with eerie soundscapes dissected by lasers and a brooding bassline.

AN ATLAS OF LOSS

Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?

If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.

There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.

In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.

Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.

Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.

Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.

Alfons Pich, 2025

Introducing the second release under the Statica imprint “MyCn18: Engraved Hourglass”

STATICA002 comes from Berlin-based artist Johannes Mai aka John Spring. John's productions have gained legendary notoriety over the past decade with his early releases revered for their timeless sound and experimental edge, whilst always keeping to a ritual of dancefloor compatibility. An influential artist who pushed the boundaries of minimalism and helped lay the foundations that have sculpted the sound of the present. It's a great honour to be releasing his first EP in over 13 years with 3 never before heard tracks from the mid 00’s.

“Train Ride” is an energetic A1 with pacey drums and a marching topline, while the A2 “Ravebehave” delves deep into spring reverb mastery and wavering synths. The B1 “Melodic Ten” begins with rolling percussion and uplifts with the whispers of enchanting vocals. B2 comes as a remix of Melodic Ten by Fabric resident and stand out London artist Harry McCanna aka Henry Hyde! stripping it back even further and introducing his own sinister synths, growling bass and groove-led drum patterns. It's a pleasure to have Harry featured on the release.

MyCn 18 is a young planetary nebula in the southern constellation Musca. It was discovered by Romano Coradi and Hugo Schwarz in 1991. MyCn 18's hourglass shape is produced by the expansion of a fast stellar wind within a slowly expanding cloud which is denser near its equator than its poles. The central star of the nebula is unknown.

Credits-:

A massive thank you to John Spring & Harry McCanna for their Contributions. Distributed by Deejay.de. Mastering by Justin Drake. Design and Curation by Alix

Crash! Boom! Bang! 30-year anniversary celebrated with a unique special edition: a double album in black and white vinyl with 18 tracks and an 8-page booklet.

30 years ago, Roxette released their fifth album "Crash! Boom! Bang!", including a stream of hit singles like "Sleeping In My Car", the title track, "Fireworks", "Run To You" and "Vulnerable". The album would sell more than five million copies and was followed by their second World Tour, which saw them perform for over a million people, including the second performance ever by an international act in China.

“Roxette were among the three most played artists on American radio during 1989, 1990 and 1991, and we were on top of the charts all over the world. So, it's no wonder we felt pretty confident when it was time to record the new album”, Per Gessle says. “Having had that kind of success made us feel that we had a perfect opportunity to stretch out into new directions. To show slightly different sides of what Roxette could be. And I still think "Crash! Boom! Bang" is our best album”. Crash! Boom! Bang! saw chart success upon release, No. 1 in Sweden, No. 2 in Germany and No. 3 in Australia and the UK.

Roxette – Marie Fredriksson and Per Gessle – came out of Sweden in the late 80’s. Their game was pop, their mission to conquer the world. With 33 chart-busting singles and total record sales exceeding 75 million, it seems safe to say “mission accomplished”.

The second instalment in this long-overdue reissue series, newly remastered and re-cut from the original DATs. Originally released in 1992, this highly sought-after UK-style house EP returns to the relief of crate diggers everywhere.

‘Touch’ comes in three flavours—pulsing and hypnotic on the Button Mix, deep and swinging with pianos on the WC1 Dub, and somewhere in between via the High Society Mix. Flip it for the progressive, Juno-stabbed glide of ‘Could It Be’ (H&S Mix). Can you feel it? Of course you can. A proper essential from the golden era. More Discrete heat to come.

Backstory:

Ramona 55 was a side project and alias of the Foreman brothers—better known as The Thrashing Doves (yes, the same crew behind Paul Oakenfold’s Balearic classic mix of “Jesus on the Payroll”). This 12” saw their track transformed by Discrete Records, keeping only traces of Angie Brown’s original vocal and diving deep into the house.

Bruce returns blistered and ablaze, with three flame-licked, windswept and deadly dancefloor deities on 12” vinyl, for the second edition of Poorly Knit.

Following on from it’s daft and fisty older brothers on The Price / Mimicry, the raw power of wind and fire takes over on Belly / Burned Alive, as we are plunged into devastating sonic worlds, adorned in UK sound-system badness and Mother Nature’s vengeance.

Providing elemental catastrophe catharsis, through sound exploration, Belly’s steppas storm of wailing wind and clattering thunder is backed by Burned Alive’s soaring and demented UK garage inferno, to finally subside to the smoldering, dubbed-out vocal remains from Hot One (Chapped Lips Version).

With a continued emphasis on the importance of physical medium within dance music, the digitals are an abridged edit of the full release; Hot One is vinyl only and only on the vinyl can you hear the full mixes of Belly and Burned Alive. Pressed on eco-friendly “Eco-Mix” reground PVC and sleeved in DIY lino printed sleeves, each record is a unique shade of marbled storm grey. Cut loud at 45rpm, not only does this sustainable slice of dance floor mayhem come at an attractive price tag, you can rest assured that sound quality has not at all been sacrificed.

** Cassette release

""A Synonym for Repetition" weaves together a tapestry of parallels, all intricately linked to Japan. The project initiates with a collaboration with a Tokyo-based musician, which ultimately fails to materialise during Jason Kolar’s recent visit to the country.

From an original approach that has to mutate in its starting phase, the record was conceived from the beginning to embody a sincere homage to Ryuichi Sakamoto, also a Tokyo native. Shaping ideas within the context of a city with a vibrant soundscape, through an exploration where tradition and modernity intersect in an ongoing quest for correspondences.

Yet, the barriers of language and cultural disparity emerge, casting a veil over the perceived connections and rendering them more projection than reality. This dynamic delineates the space observed from an external perspective, perpetually distant from true understanding, framing it in the fields of imagination, both Japan and Sakamoto. Nonetheless, Kolar tries to pay an honest ode to the artist and its scenic background, with all the implications and contradictions of this kind of process, even with the risk of falling into clichés, pastiches, and Eurocentric bias.

Connecting it to ‘vertical listening’ rather than to an obvious tribute exercise, he has morphed his sound to a synthetic and midi approach, aiming to set an ironically fictitious stage, one that resembles something, but it’s not really it."

When SW. AKA, Stefan Wust, first established SUED in 2011, their compelling, cosmic and anonymous material struck a rare chord, emanating far beyond the freeform Berlin underground in which it was written. Unknowingly, Los Angelean Oliver Bristow had
established a parallel musical universe, founding the hyper-specific label Acid Test, inviting pioneering artists such as Donato Dozzy, Tin Man and Pepe Bradock to indulge in glorious interpretations of 303 control. Without compromise, these were records that quietly
reinvigorated electronic music.
Some years later, a new label, SWOB, unites Wust and Bristow in a very different landscape. And while it would be easy to transform the purity and integrity of this special alchemy into something like nostalgia, yearning for an alternative culture before
influencers and against algorithms, SWOB endeavours to find inspiration in arguably tougher truths.
“By the mid-90s, the techno scene had already reached a breaking point”, recalls Wust.
“Today, the scene is so highly professionalized that it barely resembles what was once called the "underground. But "underground" was never more than the simple reality that music circulated on cassettes among friends or that dubplates were played at illegal
parties... The consequence of today’s professionalization is the death of the original movement.”
Still, no one can kill an idea. Here, inspired by the “Outside Tekno” or “Outkast Techno” that emerged to subvert even back in the day, SWOB are proud to introduce the tekkNOthing trilogy, a new project from SW. beginning on cassette and culminating later
on vinyl. Some years in development, tekkNOthing first began to take shape during the 2020 global pandemic, when ‘the underground’ quickly began to mean something radically different once again.
“I noticed how everything was accelerating while simultaneously spinning in circles – existing in a kind of creative limbo on a global scale”, recalls Wust. “And that’s where true freedom lies: for artists – in any sense – to consciously engage with this necessity. In
other words, irrationality or nonsense can eventually generate meaning.” While hardly capitulating to the contemporary hammering of techno’s most recent developments, tekkNOthing’s first chapter quickly establishes a frenetic pace; tracks like ‘nuclearFALLoutX’ and ‘paslolESmess’ interlock and unfold at a tempo removed from that typically associated with SW. while ‘euroBSS’ and ‘viscousHEAT’ successfully experiment with a more guttural palette, veering far into a rejuvenating and previously uncharted leftfield.
A resolutely human endeavour, the music of SW. is nonetheless written and recorded in the looming shadow of AI, whose free-form adoption of pop culture, hip-hop and techno reminds Wust of “when photography emerged in the 19th century... painting was no
longer bound to naturalism. Similarly, music today is no longer bound to fixed standards – through AI, it can become truly free.”
If not in competition, than taking inspiration from this landscape of new opportunity, tekkNOthing diversifies further with eight unpredictable tracks across part II, taking in stuttering machine-funk on ‘crAMPDUNK’, a freeform organ jam via ‘sonicENdo’ and the
inexplicable piston-percussive, post-punk exotica heard on ‘poorTENOOR#a#01’ DJs with dual cassette decks skills might even find function in the more overtly floor-focused ‘DU ¨NEhowSE#1takeÄ’ or ‘lookLOOK’.
The times may have changed, but the promise remains simple; more music, more freedom.