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“Ed Spinning” is straight 90’s hip-hop beats, pressed on 7" vinyl.
This project hits like the old party mixes: heavy looping beats, vocals that stick in your head, edits made for DJs back when digital wasn’t a thing (shoutout AV8 series).

For these two new volumes, Ugly Mac Beer is on the boards. Two tracks per side: vocal on the A-side, full instrumental on the B-side, plus drum loops dropping right from the jump. Raw boom bap, lo-fi heat, the way it used to be — for the real heads.

Titles and visuals nod to the BMW E30 and spinning: endless loops, burnouts, tires smoking, just like the beats blazing on the turntables.

“The beat has to follow the movement, never the fashion.”

A new EP by Extrawelt is always something special, as they continually manage to reinvent themselves while remaining unmistakably true to their sound. The a-side „Moonster“ of their latest record forms a subtle and almost magical bridge to early musical influences such as Immortal Coil, Chris & Cosey, The Cure, and Throbbing Gristle.
In doing so, they reclaim, or rather reintroduce, a powerful, mystical element into their music, one that is integrated so naturally it feels as if it has always been an essential part of Extrawelt’s sonic DNA. Beyond that, the track unfolds through numerous facets, constantly shifting and evolving. Just when you think it is settling into a familiar direction, small variations emerge, keeping the piece remarkably alive and unpredictable.
You can clearly sense how much fun Extrawelt had working on this track. It is bursting with ideas, energy, and vitality, radiating a playful confidence that makes it endlessly engaging.

The b1 track „Bettermaker“ takes a different route, dedicating itself entirely to a single mood. Through subtle pitch bending and a carefully shaped tonal palette, the track unfolds with a slightly eerie, enchanted atmosphere.
From beginning to end, „Bettermaker“ remains focused and unwavering. There are no breaks or dramatic shifts in direction, instead, the piece commits fully to its initial setting. A monolithic, almost mantra like motif forms the core, creating a distinctive ambience, mystical, shadowy and faintly oriental in character.
This atmosphere is carried and reinforced by percussive, ethno inspired drums, which add an organic, ritualistic pulse. The result is a hypnotic soundscape that draws its strength from consistency and depth rather than contrast, inviting the listener into a secluded, otherworldly space.

The final piece of the EP „Popcorn Forever“ reveals another side of Extrawelt’s thinking. The track unfolds like a curious experiment in motion. Instead of building toward a predictable climax, sounds are gradually tossed into an ever running loop fragments, textures and small rhythmic ideas appearing almost casually, as if the piece were assembling itself in real time.
At first the elements seem loosely connected, sometimes abstract, sometimes slightly mischievous in the way they twist and bend. It almost feels like an impossible construction task. But Extrawelt’s experience quietly guides the process. Bit by bit the scattered parts begin to communicate with each other.
Repetition becomes the hidden engine. With every return of the loop new details slip into the structure, and what once appeared random slowly starts forming relationships inside the listener’s mind. The track never forces a clear explanation, yet the brain begins to tie the loose ends together almost automatically.
Popcorn Forever therefore works beautifully as a kind of transit piece within the EP. It moves between ideas, linking moods rather than closing them off. In typical Extrawelt fashion, the result is playful, slightly surreal and full of subtle discoveries that reveal themselves over time.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

New series for Jodey Kendrick with volume 1, pure 90s Acid sprinkled with funky rhythms like FSOL, Humanoid and 808 State. Exploring an escalation of breaks that are as sexy as they are captivating and progressive already open that this series will become a classic. Just quality music!

2026 Repress

Maltese talent Human Safari debuts on Mutual Rytm with jazz-influenced techno EP, 'Culture Shock'.

Human Safari is a key player in his native scene in Malta. He's a resident at Glitch Festival, has played cult spots, and has a dynamic sound that brings jazz improvisation to techno, often featuring live instrumental elements. His music has found its place on top labels like R&S Records, and most of this new EP for SHDW's Mutual Rytm imprint was produced during his Colombian summer tour last year - written and recorded amongst inspiring and unusual settings with just a laptop and headphones.

"This EP represents embracing new beginnings that, though might bring uncertainty and fear, the
light always guides you to where you were always meant to be." - Human Safari.

Opener 'Mouse on Keys' has been a key cut for the label boss across the past year, a unique track that peaks curiosity from dancers to DJs whenever it's played. Its cantering techno rhythm is overlaid with delicate, heartfelt piano keys straight from a smoky jazz bar, making for a great counter to the physical drums. 'Fragments' is a deeply personal track dedicated to the artist's late grandfather. It's a funky, soulful techno roller with blissed-out and sunny chords full of hope.

Next, 'Classique' gets more gritty with loopy drums and bass and glitchy percussion that fizzes with energy, while 'The Labyrinth' features piano motifs recorded in just one take. It brings a dark paranoia in the uneasy, off-grid keys which dart about with nervous energy over the booming low ends. There is just as much intensity and edge to the unresolved keys that loop over the raw drums on 'A Rainy Day in Bogota', before digital bonus cuts 'Dorian' and 'Phantom' bring more jazzed out techno madness with warped keys and expressive elements bringing great invention.

2026 Repress

French talent Hyden makes label debut on Mutual Rytm with conceptual new techno EP, 'To Whom It May Concern'. Hyden is a potent force in the French underground, creating powerful techno with dense percussion, immersive grooves and subtle nods to classic influences - all through his own unique lens. Having delivered standout releases in recent years, here he offers up sounds "anchored in psychoanalysis, time, and emotional residue" as he makes his mark on SHDW's Mutual Rytm imprint, delivering influences of dream logic and surrealism as the palette moves between brutality and introspection. "It's hypnotic music for moments of rupture where something breaks or breaks through". Opener 'Manifest Content' is inspired by Freudian theory and explores the surface illusions of thought and dream. It's about the dissonance between what we perceive and the deeper meaning that slips away beneath and is a deep and dubby techno track with flashes of unsettling melody. 'Bruises' is emotional trauma made sonic. This piece delves into invisible scars and traumas, residues of past conflict or intimacy - it's slow-burning, heavy and raw. 'Jikan' is a meditation built on time and its erosion. Inspired by the Japanese concept of impermanence, it reflects fleeting moments, decay and the tension between stillness and motion with jacked up but warm drums and turbulent bass. Next, 'Free Will' is born from inner conflict and plays with deterministic rhythms and evolving layers, questioning whether we are truly in control or just passengers in a prewritten sequence. The vocal mentions, "creatures, you're out of time" to bring darkness to the intense but sleek rhythms. The streamlined physicality of 'Swarm' channels the primal force of collective movement and is a nod to the loss of individuality in group behaviour. In addition, the package is loaded with digital bonus cuts. 'Yumehara' is a dive into surreal dream-states and evokes subconscious landscapes where logic dissolves and emotion reigns, while 'Lu Bu' is brutal and warlike and named after the legendary Chinese general that captures impulsive violence, betrayal and reckless glory with relentless energy and rhythm. Lastly, 'Neon Pale' is a synthetic dreamscape about fading beauty under artificial light - a melancholy ode to cities at night and the loss of warmth in modern life.

A joke that doesn’t make you laugh is just a sentence. Music that doesn’t make you dance and feel is just noise aimed in your direction. To make a circuit where energy flows freely, you must have feedback. Without feedback, connection is absent. As Limousine Dream enters the Age of Aquarius, we open up. Instead of trying to grow, we let it grow. Instead of building a pyramid, we see a constellation where we are all stars, and every star can equally stand out and fit in. We invite you to join us, just like we want to join you. This is where we begin our Life Spiral.

&Co. debut on A Quiet Village. The US-based trio drop the third release on Quiet Village’s eponymous imprint March 20th. &Co. Is a project from multi-hyphenate and Bianca Chandon founder, Alex Olson, pianist, composer and producer Alberto Bof (known for his work on ®Oscar ®Bafta ®Golden Globe and ®Grammy award winning ’A Star is Born’) and DJ/fashion luminary, Paul Takahashi. The trio’s second release, ‘Staycation’ follows 2015’s ‘Best of Friends’, and sees these rare talents create a two-tracker that explores a uniquely evocative, cinematic and dubby Balearic aesthetic. ‘Staycation began as a follow-up to the first EP, Best Friends.

As a result, ‘Staycation’ came together in fragments. The first track was built over a handful of short studio sessions, each only about an hour long, driven by brainstorming and reworking ideas. With Alex away, Alberto and I continued refining the piece in Los Angeles, sharing updates for Alex’s approval until it was completed. The track remained unmastered and was quietly circulated to a small circle as a promotional piece. The second track, “Lean Like a Cello,” was initially conceptualized together. However, with Alex now based in New York and less available, we completed the arrangement in Los Angeles, sending versions back and forth for Alex’s input and feedback. Nearly a decade later, the idea resurfaced, and the recordings were finally mastered and released. A friend, Justin Van Der Volgen, handled the mastering. What began as a plan to give the tracks away as a promo evolved when Justin encouraged the group to shop the release. With help from Eric Duncan of Rub N Tug, the music reached Matt (Edwards, aka Radio Slave/ 1/2 of Quiet Village).

Ten years after the first sessions, Staycation arrives as a document of distance, collaboration, and time. A project shaped as much by separation as by shared intention.’ (Paul Takahashi, Feb 2026)
A piece of art from a powerhouse creative team operating at the intersection of skate culture, music, design and fashion, ‘Staycation’ by &Co. Arrives on The Quiet Village 12” and digital/streaming on March 20th.

A Profound Non-Event, the debut album by Sydney-based three piece Daily Toll, comprises 11 songs traversing three years of forged friendships, collaborative experimentation and a shared love of growing through words and song.

Those attuned to the ever-vibrant Australian underground may already be well familiar with Daily Toll, their consistent live presence since their inception in 2021 embroidered by a handful of (mostly) home-recorded, (mostly) digital self-releases that have steadily accumulated an appreciative following. Initially the project of self taught musician, poet & artist Kata Szász-Komlós(they/them) and Jasper Craig-Adams(he/him), and expended to a three piece with the more recent addition of friend Tom Stephens(he/him), Daily Toll represents the union of three unique creative dispositions, of relationships blooming through the push and pull of creative practice. Mapping the band’s existence through their recorded output is to bear witness to the flux of three people learning to respond to one another and gently ossify into a collective vision that at once calls to mind folk song intimacy, post-punk dynamics and the artful poeticism of an adjacent Flying Nun legacy.

If those earlier recordings reflect a band imagining themselves into being in real time, A Profound Non-Event observes a clear shift in both conviction and approach. Recorded in just three days with Alex Bennett at the purely analogue Sound Recordings studio in Castlemaine and holing up at night in the century old cottage situated beside the studio, sheltering from the late-June wind and rain within walls littered with instruments and microphones, lighting fires to stay warm. Kata describes the experience as defined by “candle light and creative camaraderie”, an idyllic account of a collection of songs that glide with an undeniably warm, easy charm, evidenced in particular in the record’s second half as the tone turns increasingly introspective, the very sound of a cold evening’s drift into night. When contrasted with the moody swirl and sing-song bounce of the opening trio of tracks, there’s clear evidence of a band not simply in the process of becoming, but committed to finding their truth in that process.
Still, if Daily Toll display a reluctance to be wholly defined, then album centerpiece ‘Killincs‘ (positioned in the middle for a reason) might just be their Rosetta Stone. A verbose rumination on unsettled feelings of isolation and longing, exploring the challenges in making peace with one's decisions amidst the uncertainty of an often harsh world and the realisation that some things remain best unresolved - “I have the keys still, but I’ve buried the path”.

UnOwn deepen the intrigue of their debut record with a second clutch of shadowy edits, again courtesy of the elusive Fava Luva and Dr. Professor. First up is the airy, mystical 'Sent Ra' which drifts on a Balearic current with an aquatic pulse and low-slung groove. It's for late-night moments on intimate floors and is hella steamy. Flip it and 'Love Giver' is more extroverted but just as sensual with teasing spoken words opening up before a swaggering, gentle groove and deft keyboard flourishes awaken and coalesce into a boogie-tinged delight. Anonymous in name, perhaps, but unmistakable in taste.

Soul Quest Records proudly presents SQR021 – Healing EP, the first release of 2026 from label co-founder and London deep house torchbearer Max Sinàl.



More than just a collection of club-ready cuts, Healing EP is a deeply personal body of work. The project is built around a narrative of Max’s mental health journey, with each track representing a different chapter in his life, moments where his mental wellbeing was tested, reshaped, and ultimately strengthened.

Contemplating the role of the album format in an attention-deficient society, Speedy J presents Walkman -- a constantly shifting, 90-minute soundtrack to a journey of your choice. Jochem Paap's first solo album in over 20 years is a freewheeling, 20-track testament to his decades-deep studio skill and sonic versatility, running from skewed rhythmic rabbit holes to exploratory tonal abandon. For Paap, the traditional idea of the album had become obscured by listening habits and the non-stop information barrage of our digital lives. Having moved on from his breakthrough years releasing LPs and touring off the back of them, he was more inspired to develop his many-sided STOOR project and feed into a bigger artistic body of work than the temporary shelf-life of a single release. As is natural for any artist, his perspective shifted over time and he found himself drawn back to the idea of an album, realising he connected best with longer releases while he was on a walk, out for a run or generally in transit one way or another. With an endearing call back to the humble Walkman, he selected an hour and a half of material created during studio sessions at the beginning of 2025, perfectly sized to fit on two 45-minute sides of a cassette tape. As has long been the case for his studio practice, there were no fixed intentions when sitting down in the STOOR lab to start making noise -- just a wealth of experience and an expansive set of tools to start exploring with. From hours of jams Paap pulled together standout moments and moulded them into a mixtape-like narrative ranging from two-minute beat nuggets to full-tilt techno workouts and immersive ambient drops. Every sound is intentional, but the overall delivery is instinctive and curious, showing multiple new dimensions to Paap's sound and offering unpredictability at every turn. 'Arp Amp Chasm' opens the album up in a thick blanket of humming, harmonic waves with an electric emotional charge, while 'Ctrssalms17 (Cold Render)' journeys through evocative blooms of melancholic, gritty pads and rugged, half-submerged tech funk. 'Modern Birds (Origin Edit)' reaches skywards with grand sweeps of dynamic, brilliantly rendered synthesis. From the dexterous drum science of 'Drift Vector' to 'Osc Hop (Slow Collapse)'s lurching, beatless swamp of synths, on Walkman even the briefest snapshots leave an impression that lasts beyond the quick-scan cycle of the modern music experience. With his return to the album format, Paap's message is clear --put your headphones on, get outside and lose yourself in the sound of an artist constantly committed to moving forwards.

Selection of IKIGAI Album by Nadia Struiwigh. IKIGAI was born in the quiet space between grief and remembering... Made entirely on hardware, from my living room in Berlin near Hermannplatz (my dad's name is Herman -- the odds), in the months my father passed away. Every sound, every sequence, every texture carries his fingerprint. Not because he made music, but because he made me love gadgets. Circuits, signals, blinking lights. He was the man who opened me up to machines and taught me how, eventually, to listen to them and use them for my craft. The name IKIGAI, a Japanese word for ''reason for being,'' found me when I was at a crossroads. The kind where you ask yourself: Why am I still here? What am I still creating for? What part of me still believes in beauty when everything feels like it's falling apart? These pieces came through slowly, on Japanese gear like Yamaha SEQTRAK, KORG, Roland -- like threads weaving a tapestry I didn't know I was making. Each track is a kind of purge... to him, to myself, to the listeners who find themselves in the in-between. The space where you're not who you were, and not yet who you're becoming. I found myself back into soundscapes and Ambient with a touch of Electronica. I weaved in sounds I captured from daily life, memories -- like the laugh of my sister. I built in silence and let the machines cry for me and let them tell the story I couldn't find the words for. IKIGAI is spacious. It's not trying to impress anyone. It's trying to just be, and hold space for all kinds of emotions. It moves like memory... slow, sacred, shifting. This release needs to be close to home, and will be released on my own imprint Distorted Waves, on the day 11.11 -- which refers to my first album that my dad had hanging up in his shed. For my father. Nadia

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.

Tim Maia’s self-titled 1973 album is one of those records that hits you from the very first groove and doesn’t let go. Originally released on Polydor Brazil, this was the fourth in a series of Tim’s self-titled albums and many fans and critics still consider it the crown jewel. Packed with irresistible hooks, lush arrangements, and that unmistakable Tim Maia swagger, the album captures the singer at the peak of his creative powers.If you’re new to Tim Maia, here’s the quick story: born in Rio de Janeiro, Tim was a larger-than-life icon whose music married American soul and funk with Brazilian samba and pop long before “fusion” was a buzzword. A true musical polymath, he absorbed everything from Curtis Mayfield to Motown and translated it into a sound entirely his own, gritty, passionate, and full of groove.



He didn’t just introduce soul to Brazil; he made it Brazilian.On this 1973 release, Tim pushes everything up a notch. The arrangements are bigger, slicker, and surprisingly majestic, without losing the raw spirit that earned him a devoted following. From the moment ‘Réu Confesso’ opens the album, you know you’re in for something special—smooth, funky, and heartfelt in all the right ways. The bittersweet ‘Gostava Tanto de Você’ remains one of his most beloved classics, while ‘O Balanço’ bursts with Brazilian flavor that practically dares you not to move. And with tracks like ‘Do Your Thing, Behave Yourself’ and ‘Over Again,’ Tim shows just how naturally the soul idiom fit him, even when he switched to English.This record has everything: deep grooves, soaring strings, magnetic vocals, and that unmistakable sense of joy that Tim Maia carried into every session. It’s a front-to-back winner—one of those albums that deserves a spot not just in Brazilian music history, but in any collection that celebrates great soul, funk, and timeless grooves.If you’re a longtime fan, it’s a reminder of why Tim Maia is legendary. If you’re discovering him for the first time, this is the perfect place to start. Either way: press play, turn it up, and let Tim do his thing.

2025 Repress

140g vinyl, remastered, double LP with the original LP along with a second record of 14 rare tracks

Sweet And Nice is the vital debut album from Jamaica’s undisputed first lady of song Marica Griffiths. It’s reggae at its most soulful. Slinking through a tight ten tracks of R&B and pop-sourced material, it became an instant best seller. 45 years after its initial release the LP is available again on vinyl, now as a double LP, with an extra record collecting 14 rare tracks.

Sweet And Nice has appeared over the years with a revised running order and under different titles. But the original’s opening sequence of loping soul is legendary, even beyond reggae circles. These songs are now returned to how they were presented on that first Jamaican release, and under their intended album title. Be With doesn’t mess with magic.

Marcia’s version of “Here I Am (Come and Take Me)” has long been lusted after, played by genre-hopping selectors to snapping necks for decades now. It’s followed by the sophisticated, rollicking wah-wah funk of “Everything I Own” and the slice of smooth lovers soul par excellence that is “Green Grasshopper” and her ace, lilting Neil Diamond cover “Play Me”.

The thundering, humid funk of “Children At Play” “sounds uncannily like a precursor of Massive Attack”, as FACT Mag astutely noted when they put Sweet And Nice at number 16 in their list of the 100 best albums of the 1970s. Otherworldly, moody and essential.

Side two keeps the fire burning. “Sweet, Bitter Love” should leave you swooning, and is also one of the album’s alternate titles. Curtis Mayfield’s already-eternal “Gypsy Man” is up next, recast as proto-lovers rock.

“There’s No Me Without You” is elevated to canonical status by the majestic, forlorn horns of the Federal Soul Givers and Marcia’s heartbreaking delivery. And if this doesn’t get you then surely the next track will: arguably the definitive version of Ewan MacColl’s “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”. Yes, seriously.

“I Just Don’t Want To Be Lonely” re-takes its rightful place at the end of the LP’s second side… but we couldn’t leave it at that. So we added an entire second record of rare material recorded around the same time as Sweet And Nice, much of it unavailable since it was originally released. Some of these songs have only ever been found on now unattainable 7" singles and no, rarity doesn’t always correspond with quality, but in this case we’re talking about some seriously jaw-dropping music.

Amongst 14 extra tracks you’ll find the exquisite late-60s singles “Melody Life” and “Mark My Word” which, along with the sumptuous reading of “Band Of Gold”, are now £100 records, if you can find them! Just sayin’. There‘s also a fantastic version of “The First Cut Is the Deepest” and an alternate take of “Play Me” with producer Lloyd Charmers adding his own vocals.

Everything’s been remastered of course, including the original LP, so Sweet And Nice now sounds even sweeter, and even nicer.

Visionary producer Ibrahim Alfa Jr, who's been traversing the rave's farthest fringes since the late '90s, returns with his most focused and concise set to date, an anthology of undulating, bass-heavy experiments that surveys techno and its distorted history, printing fractured pulses and cybernetic synths over vanishing snapshots of jazz, funk, trip-hop, broken beat, dub and ambient music. It's a body of work that coalesced during a difficult time for Alfa.

After returning to Brighton and sobriety in 2022, he was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism, subsequently suffering two debilitating heart attacks. With his immune system compromised, isolation was the only option, so for months on end Alfa devoted each waking hour to his art, recording samples, building digital synths and effects and meticulously sequencing some of his waviest, most experimental material to date. Over this period he finished over 500 tracks, writing impulsively and constantly challenging himself. "There was nothing to hold me back," he explains. "I just had music, I didn't know if I would see the next day."

Now recovered from his ordeal, Alfa looks back at this prolific period with optimism and fondness. It was a chance for him to reconnect with his art holistically, writing purely for himself without any outside influence. Because, at this stage in his life, Alfa has already been through a series of artistic evolutions. When he was still just a teenager, he penned a slew of grinding, jacking techno 12"s (under a variety of mysterious monikers) in the late '90s before re-emerging a decade ago with the acclaimed 'Hidden By The Leaves', an album made up of deeply personal archival tracks that were thought to have been lost. A few years later, Alfa returned wholeheartedly with a series of records for Mille Plateaux that redrew the boundaries of his "Black political music without words." And on 'Infinite Black Inside', those different strands are muddled with Alfa's profound life experiences and he expresses himself free of any self-imposed boundaries, writing quickly on a hybrid analog-digital setup to document as many ideas as possible.

There's a palpable sense of liberation that drives the album's opening track, 'Subutrax', lubricating polyrhythms that isolate the connective tissue between footwork and Detroit techno as they slip between looped electric piano vamps and vaporous synths. On 'Naked Lunchbreak' meanwhile, the beat generation's excesses are illustrated by mesmeric fast-paced acoustic drums that Alfa balances out with brassy drones and euphoric keys. He captures rubbery hits from a Ghanaian djembe on 'Drum Slinger', re-sequencing them into seismic waves that rumble underneath live woodwind blasts. And on 'Capture', decelerated breaks and garbled voices tumble into humid pads, suspending the album somewhere between the chill-out room and the night sky. It's a record of new beginnings and fresh narratives that collapses the hardcore continuum, revealing a sonic signature that's Alfa's alone.

Over the last two decades, The Field has refined a language of repetition that feels not assembled but uncovered. His loops don’t just cycle; they gather weight over time, so the tracks seem set in motion rather than composed – patterns established early, then
gently altered, their emotional temperature shifting almost imperceptibly.
On this five-track EP for Studio Barnhus, the Swedish producer’s first solo release in 8 years, The Field returns to the sonic architecture that defined his seminal debut From Here We Go Sublime, but with a (dare we say
Studio Barnhus-esque) looseness that allows the structures to breathe.
Tracks like In Our Dreams and 333 706 move forward on meditative chords, harmonies stretching their reach until the tracks feel elated by their own momentum.
The B-side tilts the frame. Another Day introduces some melodic immediacy, folding a tender vocal presence into The Field’s glittering matrix of sound, softening the grid without dissolving it. Now You Exist is a grand finale radiating with restrained euphoria.
The Field’s music never insists, it just draws you in and keeps you there. In a landmark crossing of paths for the Stockholm label, Studio Barnhus proudly presents Now You Exist, out May 15 on vinyl and all digital platforms.