Buscar:land of echo

Step into the emotional landscapes of Saudade’s new EP Expensive Noise, a multi-textured journey where analog machines speak louder than words. Each track captures a different state of mind, blending depth and groove with raw, honest sound design. The EP opens with “Expensive Noise” — direct, grounded, and hypnotic. No detours, no hesitation — just raw analog power locking into a loop with magnetic tension. The groove builds steadily, shifting your state of mind as the rhythm takes hold. “Anyway” brings a dreamy, bittersweet touch. Exclusive to vinyl, this extended version unfolds like a teenage memory you never shared — warm, nostalgic, somewhere between electro and pop, glowing softly from within. “Colored Life” dives into detailed minimal deep house territory. Rounded and generous, its sound design sculpts soft clouds of melodies against crisp, syncopated snares — floating between dream and presence, like a cushion made of rhythm and light. “Porte de la Villette 45” echoes the EP’s birthplace — a raw area near the Parisian périphérique, where engines roar, people hustle, and concrete weighs heavy. Yet within this urban friction stands Studio Villette 45 — a funky, soulful shelter where the machines find their groove. The record closes on “Cœur” (heart in French) — a stripped-down, heartfelt outro. Just a Prophet 5 pad, no tricks. A moment of vulnerability, stillness, and truth — as if the music had finally dropped its armor. Between analog heat and emotional honesty, Expensive Noise is Saudade at his most sincere — building bridges between power and softness, body and soul, sound and silence.

The Armenian electronic underground has been quietly brewing something visceral. After years navigating the labyrinth of electronic production from his Yerevan studio, Dave N.A. strips away the excess to reveal six raw, uncompromising cuts that pulse with quiet intensity. Not the manufactured urgency of algorithmic dance floors, but the honest tension of someone who’s spent years refining his craft while the scene evolved around him.

Following his debut ‘Altura EP’ on no•id, where collaborations with freq444 showcased his ability to merge Armenia’s electronic scene with Brussels’ underground pulse, Dave N.A. returns with ‘Echoes EP’ after the label’s necessary creative hibernation. This isn’t about comebacks or grand statements. It’s about persistence. About the kind of restless creativity that emerges when you’ve been grinding in relative obscurity, releasing on labels like Uppers and Downers, Typeless, and Elicit Records, slowly building a sound that refuses easy categorization.

The EP opens hard and unexpectedly with “BLINK,” delivering a throat-cutting and all-consuming bassline. “ECHOES” builds around atmospheric sounds and percussive elements, driven by a straightforward yet effective drum sequence. “SHADO” ventures into darker and faster territory with sparse drum programming and heavy sub-bass emphasis. Both “RUSH” and “ORB” unleash torrents of unrelenting breaks, each percussive hit landing with surgical precision as sub-bass currents pull everything forward into hypnotic repetition. “HUNTER” closes the journey, stalking into frame with predatory low-end and razor-sharp hi-hats slicing through dense atmospheric fog.

The no•id ship continues to chart its course through Brussels’ underground, prioritizing artists who value craft over hype. With Dave N.A.’s return, the label reinforces its commitment to electronic music that functions on multiple levels: cerebral yet visceral, local yet universal.

Looking back on her career in the early 90s, Stevie Nicks described the first track of Rock a Little as “the most exciting song that I had ever heard.” This coming from a superstar who was already closely affiliated with several bajillion-selling Fleetwood Mac albums — to say nothing of her own benchmark solo debut. Her remarks attest to the enthusiasm and effort she invested in her third record, a 1985 work that quickly furthered Nicks’ profile and cemented itself as a piece of 80s pop lore.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Rock a Little in audiophile sound for its 40th anniversary. Helmed by a cadre of producers and engineers, and recorded for a reported one million dollars, the platinum-certified album teems with a head-spinning array of colors, tones, dreamscapes, and accents. This reference-grade reissue marks the first time they are all brought to light and conveyed with proper balance, dimensionality, and positioning.

Though Rock a Little doubtlessly has period characteristics of a mid-80s LP, Nicks and company spare no expense when it comes to distinguishing the music with expansive sonics distinguished with lush melodies, high-tech percussion, echoing vocals, sampled keyboards, and layers of sophisticated accents. The degrees of spaciousness, headroom, and dynamics are nothing less than inspiring, while the newly enhanced detail, texture, and clarity make the songs sing like never before. As for Nicks’ voice? Wait ’til you experience the transparency and depth.

Those advantages extend, of course, to the aforementioned “I Can’t Wait,” a statement-making opener shot through with modulating synthesizers, splashy drums, metallic guitars, and serious drama. Holed up in a massive studio, Nicks required just one take to nail her part, which she called “magic and simply not able to beat.” The singer-songwriter also distilled the reverberating emotional essence of the Top 20 tune, stating “when I hear it on the radio, this incredible feeling comes over me, like something really incredible is about to happen.”

The same can be said for nearly all of Rock a Little. Crafted by the likes of Songwriters Hall of Fame multi-instrumentalist/producer Rick Nowels, Heartbreakers organist Benmont Tench, bassist Bob Glaub, jack-of-all-trades Greg Phillinganes, and session-pro guitarists Waddy Watchel, Les Dudek, and Danny Kortchmar — along with another two dozen or so participants — the record spills with diverse ideas, shapes, and moods. Everything is in the right place, as evidenced by the swirling glide and sensual undertow of the slightly funky title track to the snapping rhythmic pace and big hooks of “Imperial Hotel,” one of Nicks’ standout moments.

“What was it she wanted?” Nicks queries on “No Spoken Word,” continuing a theme of contemplation that runs through the narratives. Nicks never lands on a definite answer, but hearing her explore loneliness, love, and the secrets we keep to ourselves proves continuously rewarding. Take her passionate performance on a cover of Chas Sanford’s “Talk to Me,” a Top 5 smash furthered by tasteful saxophone lines and understated folk elements. Immersive yourself in the grand sonic corridors of “If I Were You,” laden with Nicks’ signature mysticism.

Moreover, surrender to the gravitas of the closing “Has Anyone Ever Written Anything for You,” a piano ballad composed about the death of Joe Walsh’s three-year-old daughter. As Nicks asserts earlier on the album, she sings for things money can’t buy.

So, rock a little, yes, but dare to feel even more.

2025 Repress

For the second installment of its renewed imprint, Fuse's own in-house resident and one of Belgium's proudest exports Phara takes the reins for a deep dive into thick percussion and vibrant club landscapes. 'The Wall' puts current dance music under a microscope with a brush of truly vintage spontaneity, merging techno's confrontational nature with house's harmonic genuineness. This duality is reflected through Phara's own relationship with his home base Fuse and the complementary contrast between its two rooms.

The EP's title track serves as a hypnotic introduction for the A1, imposing a bass-heavy rhythm and a persistently oscillating synthline. A dense production full of energy, 'The Wall' inspires intrigue throughout its duration, revealing its true intentions through a capable sound system. Sharing the first side of the press is 'Blaes 208', a name that Fuse club goers will likely recognise, that guides the listener from effect into embrace. With lush keys echoing past a comforting drum sequence fit for a close-eyed dancefloor experience, Phara's impactful tendencies meet his affinity for the melodic through a blissful six minutes of crowd to selector connection. Switching sides, a return to a cold cold aesthetic is quickly apparent through 'Hush Now 206'. A pummeling, saturated bass competes with a kick of equal effect, rolling through a storm of metallic stabs. Mastering the message of urgency, Phara presents a lightshow of resonating percussive work, defining his space just to cut right through it. To close out with a lasting impression, the producer mutes the acoustics of his work through razor-sharp sound design dotting along playful snares, a duality reminiscent of the dynamism of Detroit electro. 'Motion Steps', referring to the stairs that ascend from Fuse's main room to its more left-field counterpart, captures the atmosphere of the almost shimmering music that can be expected to be played there; a place where Phara and many others have been known to explore the extremities of their music. He swiftly throws in melodic elements to recontextualize an otherwise pressing composition, and after three chapters of considerable weight, he concludes his record with infectious groove that flaunts technical ability.

Regarded as one of the leading figures within the modern jungle scene, Newcastle’s Nectax returns with his second EP of the year, ‘Star & Shadow’, this time landing on London-based label Up Ya Archives. Dedicating this release to where he grew up, the EP echoes the heart of the North East - industrial spirit, late-night rhythms, and a fierce sense of community.

Blending classic breaks, soulful vocals, and playful pad patterns, ‘Star & Shadow EP’ is another knockout release in Nectax’s discography, following records on Hooversound, Future Retro, Over/Shadow, and his own Stereo 45 imprint. Championed by DJ Flight, Nectax was the first release back on her label play:musik after 14 years with Body Talk EP. At the end of 2024, Nectax was nominated for Breakthrough Producer at DJ Mag’s Best of British Awards, further solidifying his position as one of the scene’s essential contemporary artists.

Bristol-based producer Zobol lands on Brooklyn imprint Melodize with Killing Culture – a bold, four-track statement that fuses electro, breaks, and electronica into something raw, physical, and emotionally charged. Known as one half of the label Distorted Sensory Perception – a platform showcasing honest, forward-thinking electronic music – and as curator of the UK underground event series d3pth_p3rc3pti0n, Zobol brings a fiercely independent, hands-on ethos to his productions.
Built entirely on hardware – including the Korg MS20, Roland JX-3P, Prophet Rev2, Acidlab Drumatix, Behringer TD-3, Elektron Octatrack, Soundcraft Signature MTK12 console, and finished in Ableton Live – the EP captures a live-wire energy that feels both urgent and immersive.

The EP opens with “Uprising”, a track that sets a hopeful tone with flickers of brightness woven through its punchy rhythms – like the first sparks of something much bigger. Extrawelt reshapes the track with warm bass and swirling atmospheres, lending a more introspective, drifting character. Known for their decade-spanning contribution to electronic music – from their iconic debut on Border Community to defining live performances worldwide – the German duo once again deliver with a remix steeped in depth and analog soul.

The B-side turns heavier. “Weapon of Mass Distraction” unfolds from a looping synth fragment, slowly ramping into a tense, bass-driven groove that hits like controlled bursts of energy – Relentless, exacting & distractingly armoured with acidity. Closing track “Oppression” dives deeper into emotional terrain: the weight of distorted low-end channels the presence of authoritarian force, while fragile melodic elements flicker like voices struggling to be heard – eventually weakening, fading, and falling into silence.

“As shattered cultures bleed beneath a technocratic sky, the silenced cries of Palestine, Sudan, Yemen and other forgotten lands echo a world where humanity’s dawn is cruelly denied; a stark testament to faltering global systems, demanding urgent change before the irreversible erosion of our shared future.”

The writer Max Sebald often pondered over the nature of human memory, specifically, how our thoughts and desires - and their results - overlap and mutate over time. In A Place in the Country, he writes of the significance of what see as “similarities, overlaps and coincidences”. Are they the “delusions” of the self and senses, or manifestations of “an order underlying the chaos of human relationships, ... which lies beyond our comprehension”?

Song of the Night Mists, the new album by post-classical composer Stefan Wesołowski, often feels it draws on Sebald’s premise.

On a simpler plane, the one where the market dictates the neatly ordered information we consume, Song of the Night Mists can be described thus: recorded in the main by Stefan Wesołowski in Gdańsk, both in his studio and in Saint Nicholas' Basilica, the album incorporates acoustic instruments - piano, violin, double bass - and classic synthesizers such as the Roland Jupiter-8, the Soviet Polivoks. A Roland Space Echo RE-150 tape delay was also pressed into service as an instrument. We also hear the basillica’s organ and field recordings from the Tatra Mountains. Other musicians were Maja Miro, who played the flute parts on ‘Glacial Troughs’ and brother Piotr Wesołowski, who played the organ on ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’. Sound engineer was Marcin Nenko, who was also on hand to record the basilica organ parts. The album was mixed in New York by Al Carlson (Oneohtrix Point Never, Jessica Pratt, Zola Jesus, Lady Gaga, and Liturgy) and Rafael Anton Irisarri handled the mastering.

Ostensibly, Song of the Night Mists is the last in a trilogy, following on from albums Liebestod (2013) and Rite of the End (2017). All three deal with existential matters such as love, death, decay and “an ultimate end”; apocalyptic and Promethean in spirit, and betraying very human conceits. The Sebaldian nature of the new record starts to make itself felt when Wesołowski talks of how he used sampling. One element is unexpected, that of sampling himself: “I go back to dozens of my own unused sketches and recordings, treating them as raw material to cut, slow down, reverse, and transform in every possible way.” Memory as sound, to be reemployed by the listener through their own imaginings.

Another set of samples made by Wesołowski plays another role. These are field recordings, originally created for an audio illustration of the formation of the Tatra Mountains, and used in a film by sound designer Michał Fojcik. Wesołowski: “You can hear cracking ice, streams, footsteps in the snow and the wind, and a real avalanche, recorded from the inside.” The “Tatra connection” on the album is also found in samples referencing composer Karol Szymanowski. The album’s title alludes to a poem about the mountains by Polish poet, Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer.

Wesołowski’s Tatra recordings are “about a world without humans - about the fact that the world existed, was beautiful, and had meaning long before people arrived, and for the vast majority of its history, it was a place without us.” Wesołowski, using one iteration of the natural world, plays out in sound Sebald’s idea of another order, underlying the chaos of human relationships lying beyond human comprehension.

These feelings play themselves out on the five album tracks. Sonorous and rich, they illustrate tectonic shifts we have no control over. Wesołowski hints that the overall sound is a “meditation on the metaphysics of the non-human set against the spirituality that human presence has brought into it.” In that light, the opening number, ‘Core’, with its slow build, and crackling and straining sound effects, create an effect of the earth groaning into life in a creation myth. Once the piano part raps out a simple melody and modulated tonguing trumpet samples add to the overall atmosphere, the listener can certainly find a cue in the “spiritual”, or “human” side of the story. Human versus nature: from the strains and harmonic muscle stretches of the second number, ‘Glacial Troughs’, through to the powerful and filmic ‘Stalagmite’ and heart-on-sleeve romance expressed in closer, ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’, we listeners are cast as Friedrich’s wanderer, looking out over a landscape that will appear only if we engage with it.

Formations of melody appear incrementally, almost appearing by chance - like hidden footings in the rock shelves to give us something to grasp onto. Rhythms are used sparsely: the prolonged percussive taps on ‘Glacial Troughs’ are an anomaly and maybe there to give pace to the album to come; essentially to keep the listener strapped in. Elsewhere, percussion is used as an aid to mood, the two thudding, timpani-style passages on ‘Peak’ there to offset the short, beautiful, kosmische passage that splits them.

Elements of the borderline religious spirit that drove German electronic music in the late 1960s and 1970s also find a place on Song of the Night Mists. The swells and recessions of the organ find their emotional climax on ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’, a track which summons up echoes of the “mountain magic” vistas created by Popol Vuh or Tangerine Dream, especially with the slightly atonal wobble of the Mellotron that counters it.

This is a dramatic album, but it does feel a strangely short, or curtailed listen on ending, evoking the feeling one gets when waking from a dream, and, for all its incipient grandeur, a track like ‘Stalagmite’, for instance, ends on a minor note. Wesołowski admits that Song of the Night Mists is born of the all too human process of temptation, doubt and recalibration - Sebaldian overlaps and coincidences forming something that must live another life, away from its creator. In Wesołowski’s words, the album is “a newborn foal must stand up and walk right after birth.” Now it is yours to ponder.

The landscapes of Orlan 19 resembled the dream of a mad cartographer: cliffs were floating above the surface, horizons were bending and vanishing into infinity, and energy vortices were flaring up beneath their feet in psychedelic patterns. The familiar laws of physics didn’t apply here — gravity shifted chaotically, and time flew with unpredictable intensity. As Spacelunch, absorbed in thought, stroked the ground which distorted like a mirage under his touch, Cat’s grumbling echoed simultaneously from the past and future:

— Doc, don’t you think we’re just walking in circles?
— No wonder. That’s how inverse modelling works. Every action we take reshapes the surrounding space.
— Can you explain it in simpler terms? There’s only one genius here.
— Ever heard of the Philadelphia Experiment?
— Of course! You know how much I love sushi rolls!
— Well, I set myself up for this predicament… Back in my university days, we experimented with magnetic fields trying to program them by thought. You get where I’m going, don’t you? The planet is reacting to our intentions. So, focus on visualizing the portal.

The confusion on Cat’s face gave way to a mask of detachment. Clusters of matter began to tremble pulling the threads of reality to their breaking point before finally forming a vortex. Having devoured as much as it could, the vortex snapped shut with a loud pop and dissolved in a blinding flash.

As the scene began to take shape, silhouettes emerged under the soft glow of a desk lamp, evoking an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. A worn desk and a small bed stood by the wall adorned with faded photographs, while the floor let out a gentle creak underfoot. The clearer the interior came to be, the more paralyzing the realization, and the more elusive the explanation for what had happened became.

— Holy…! Cat, are we looking at the same thing?
— Yeah, but… This can’t be real.

Spacelunch slowly approached the window and froze still. A single thought raced through his mind: “The only force strong enough to pull me this far… was love.”

‘Absurd Matter’ is a labyrinthine sonic conundrum that spirals around the two poles of extreme noise and hiphop. It's Berlin-based Italian producer Shapednoise's first album in four years and confidently advances his narrative into the next chapter, building on the groundwork of his prior abstractions to emerge with a coherent genre-warped fusion of urgent rap, crushing bass weight and idiosyncratic sound design. After spending years scrupulously deconstructing club music, Nino Pedone has rebuilt it brick by brick in his image.

The album is the first release on Pedone's brand new imprint WEIGHT LOOMING, a multidisciplinary label platform that's set to explore the depths of bass music, textured noise and abrasive transcendence. It follows a slew of acclaimed releases for Numbers,
Opal Tapes, Type and his own Cosmo Rhythmatic label, and forward thinking collaborations with Kenyan beat alchemist Slikback and Hyperdub-signed Angolan producer Nazar. Pedone's most ambitious project to date, ‘Absurd Matter’ taps into kinetic energy from a hand-picked selection of collaborators, including New York rap duo Armand
Hammer, French DJ/producer Brodinski, Bruiser Brigade's ZelooperZ and vanguard Philly poet, musician, and activist Moor Mother.


On ‘Family’, Billy Woods and Elucid weave a dismal, apocalyptic landscape with their razor-sharp anecdotes. The duo’s macabre imagery is given artificial life by Pedone's industrial scrapes and rattles that curl around their worlds like thick smoke. It's still rap, just about, but lodges itself in the back room of a factory, machines running themselves to an early death. Pairing with techno-rap trailblazer Brodinski, Pedone edges further towards the sound system, spatializing rhythms in four dimensions around Detroit rapper
ZelooperZ's playful expressions. This is the Italian producer's sci-fi tinged liquefaction of radio echoes, a way to fire familiarity into the void and sublime the human voice into weightless mist. When Moor Mother arrives shouting "me me me" on the aptly-titled 'Poetry', it sounds as if all of Pedone's loose threads are being tightened into a knot. His misshapen neo-grime beats sound like a broken jet engine, but smartly cede power to Moor Mother's resonant rhymes. "You can't cancel me" she assures. ‘Absurd Matter’ is a defining personal development for Pedone that not only appraises his career so far, but diverts its logic into frighteningly new sonic territory. From great loss, the producer has determined his work's cardinal themes, and sounds more strident and far heavier than ever before.

A name that breathes, a voice that whispers and howls in soliloquy. Collecting the echoes that follow—field recordings from Colombia, murmured poems, the spectral songs of birds—she stitches together a sonic diary, an audible thread between past and present.



Like the shifting landscapes of Colombian magical realism, she bends nature as memory bends truth. From this alchemy arises Un Pensiero Intrusivo: seven folk incantations, captured live in Cagliari, Italy.


A new genre, steeped in something unnameable—a haunted flamenco, spectral invocations, a piano unmoored from time.



The air thickens, the horizon tilts. A slow descent into vertical tropics, where distant sensibilities collapse into a single, hypnotic pulse.

Following their mesmerizing debut Tradition, CHO CO PA CO CHO CO QUIN QUIN return with Correspondances—a 7-inch release that drifts effortlessly between organic textures and delicate electronic landscapes. Expanding on their signature blend of dreamy synth work and nylon-stringed warmth, the trio refines their approach with a more mature, immersive sound that feels both nostalgic and forward-thinking.

The A-side, “Adan no Umibe” (Adan’s Seashore), opens with a soft, relaxed vocal delivery reminiscent of Haruomi Hosono’s solo work, floating over a gentle groove of nylon guitars and spacious synths. It captures the essence of a quiet shore, where melodies ebb and flow like waves against the sand, infused with the scent of Okinawa.

The title track, “Correspondances,” embraces an airy, ambient minimalism. Whispered vocals glide over sparse beats, floating basslines, and interwoven birdsong—blurring the lines between nature and sound.

Closing the record, “Koe o Kikasete” (Hear Me Your Voice) introduces a subtle rhythmic pulse, with its soft vocal refrain weaving through a beautiful chord progression, layered with nylon guitar and delicate electronic textures. The birdsong theme resurfaces here, echoing the lyrics and enhancing the immersive, weightless atmosphere.

While rooted in the warmth of vintage Japanese pop experimentalism, Correspondances carries CHO CO PA CO CHO CO QUIN QUIN’s sound into new, refined territory.

This is a record of quiet yet deeply expressive beauty—an invitation to pause, listen, and drift.

A1 - Tried So Hard
Intensely atmospheric from the outset, Tried So Hard sees ASC explore a more minimal approach to breakbeats with sparse drums and kicks tentatively held at arm's length by imposing hi hats. Dripping with depth and a dense layer of synthwork enveloping the landscape, this unique track develops continually with a suite of interlocking effects while the vocal yearns "I've tried so hard" - both haunting and thought provoking.

A2 - Parallel Seas
Cheery synths and lively bongos introduce us to Parallel Seas, which quickly becomes a glorious, powerful amen workout providing that perfect blend of atmospheric bliss alongside crunchy, analogue amens programmed with ASC's exquisite attention to detail - crashing triumphantly to an upbeat rhythm, littered with rousing vocal hits, elegant synthwork and nods to yesteryear galore.

AA1 - Alacrity
An energetic, surging breakbeat powers Alacrity as ASC utilises breaks reminiscent of classic driving atmospheric tracks of the past from scene legends including Intense and Artemis. Uniquely constructed with a pulsating, fluid energy, the break pattern utilises relentless kicks, cymbals and a wonderful long snare primed to move the dancefloor as synths wash and a lush vocal whooshes along in ecstasy.

AA2 - Glimmer Of Hope
Jumping straight in with a DJ-friendly beat intro, ASC selects a crisp, definitive selection of old school cuts for Glimmer of Hope, chopped and served with a barrage of sci-fi effects, micro melodies, a bellowing, rumbling bassline and a serene intensity driven by dreamy pads resulting in a perfect patchwork of elements, offering endless layers of detail for your ears to pick through with each listen.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Orphx makes a striking comeback with a six-track EP on KR3, celebrating Rich & Christie's three-decade career in the industrial music scene.

Theikos EP - spans multiple eras and moods, merging raw, ancient production methods with modern interpretations. The result is a sonic landscape that bridges pulsing club rhythms with the intense energy of extreme electronics and death industrial. The title track, "Theikos," began in 1998 and was only finalized in 2024, years of evolution shaping it into a truly formidable piece.

This 12" release stands out as a deep and fully realized body of work, filled with personal insight and resonant echoes of a primordial world.
The standard edition comes in a sleek single-pocket gatefold sleeve, featuring a 1997 photograph taken in Toronto by Michael Nine, capturing the duo in their early years and visually anchoring the album to the roots of their sound. Limited and special editions include an exclusive booklet with archival photos of Orphx and a poster, along with a promotional videos featuring remastered and reimagined archival footage created especially for this release.

Now under number 26 we are proud to present Niki IL B the prolific producer from Italy who does not need an introduction due to his legendary work output over the years. Labyrinth of Echoes is an extended play that has landed on the town of Sakskøbing, it tells a story of the feelings deeply rooted in each of us and allows us to intensely feel the synth pads and the drum work created around it. Niki has definitely brought his A game for this one as every single work is unique and manages to capture the essence of his artistic soul that we are witnessing on this 12”. From Pestorama to Street of Rapa this disc is oozing with talent that the artist has demonstrated us flawlessly.

On June 27, 2025, a long-dormant signal reactivates from Hamburg’s hidden places: Helena Hauff and F#X return as Black Sites with R4 on Tresor Records—their first full-length album and the first release under the moniker since 2014. Like a hieroglyphic recently discovered and translated, R4 feels more like a long-awaited resumption than a comeback.
Recorded to tape with minimal editing or post-production the record is a classic example of the symbiotic relationship that can come from the interaction of human and machine. This punk ethos isn’t invoked through distortion alone, but through method; in the album’s breaking from the received wisdom of hardness tethered to speed as most of the tougher pieces are lower BPM and vice versa (with one notable exception in the mind-melting stomp of BLOKK).
Across ten tracks, Black Sites traverse a landscape where genre dissolves into intention. It migrates through electro’s danceability, acid house’s corrosion, and into the liminal realm of machine funk—a genre coined by Andrew Weatherall, which sounds like the results of technology dreaming of soul where the emphasis is on live execution, on immediacy over perfection—a sound forged in the act of creating, not polishing.
In a 2013 interview, around the time of the first Black Sites EP, Hauff was quoted as saying that she wants “things to fit together properly, but on another level, I really want them to make sense together.” That principle animates R4: The album’s form reveals itself in time, with each movement echoing and amplifying the others to create a synergistic whole.
From the opening crawl of C4 (a name that like the music foreshadows the explosions to come) to the end-of-the-night bliss of MOTHERJAM via the intense peaks of BLOKK, 707, and classic acid track 3D it’s clear that R4 is a work made with serious intent; a refutation of a world where streaming has made the two-minute single the dominant musical form again. R4 demands immersion, not just attention. It is not a collection of tracks, but a singular, recursive experience: a mirror in which sound and listener repeatedly rediscover one another.

Flabaire, a seasoned French DJ and producer, has been a mainstay in the electronic music scene for years. As the head of the renowned D.KO Records for a decade and a multi-instrumentalist with the ability to play classics from The Band and Fleetwood Mac, Flabaire's artistry knows no bounds. We're thrilled to welcome him back to our label (his talent previously shone on the « Skylax House Explosion » compilation, curated by DJ Sprinkles and Hardrock Striker). With this latest release, we genuinely believe Flabaire has reached a new height of maturity in his production, delivering what we consider some of the finest deep house we've heard in years. This EP is steeped in the timeless essence of deep house, aligning with the legacy of Black Jazz Consortium (aka Fred P), the late, great Mike Huckaby, and the silky elegance of Soul Capsule. Every track feels meticulously crafted within the same creative framework, creating a cohesive listening experience that's as suited to at-home sessions as it is to the dancefloor. This isn't music designed for quick attention or fleeting trends—it's a powerful moment of deep house reclaiming its voice in a landscape crowded with Instagram “DJs” and shallow hype. The EP opens with A1.Echoes, an evocative track that draws listeners into its lush, immersive soundscape, immediately setting the tone for the record. A2.Eventually continues the journey, layered with smooth textures and a subtle groove that feels both intimate and expansive. On the flip side, B1.Lip Them explores deeper, jazz-infused rhythms, each note purposefully placed, creating a rich, hypnotic atmosphere. Finally, B2.La Haye rounds out the release, offering a dreamy, ambient house vibe that seems to float effortlessly—a testament to Flabaire's refined touch and sophisticated style. Each track flows seamlessly into the next, much like the movement of a jazz record, with even the titles evoking a Pink Floyd-esque sense of introspection. This is ambient house at its finest: real club music made for dancing, socializing, and deep listening. Beyond a simple EP, this record is a statement—a testament to the artistry and authenticity of true deep house.

One of Europe's most popular alternative / dark wave bands. Lebanon Hanover have over one million monthly listeners on Spotify. Following their first US tour in over a decade, Lebanon Hanover returns with a soul-stirring double A-side single release, marking their first new material since the captivating 2020 album, 'Sci-Fi Sky.' Now, the enigmatic duo of William Maybelline and Larissa Iceglass beckons listeners into unventured sonic domains, intricately weaving folk-driven acoustic dream pop with the vulnerable essence of post-punk in a contemplative exploration of life's ephemeral yet profound nature. Embarking on a Cure-like sonic voyage reminiscent of the 'Head on the Door' and the 'Kiss Me’ era, title track 'Better Than Going Under' manifests as a romantic, sombre daydream. William Maybelline's brooding baritone intertwines with sighing back vocals, narrating an ode to life's fleeting yet boundless vistas. The acoustic strums initiate a folk-driven narrative which, when coupled with a celestial choir, crafts a contemplative soundscape of cautious optimism, reminiscent of Echo and the Bunnymen or The Church.. KYIV: Bearing the name of Ukraine's capital, 'KYIV,' voiced by Larissa Iceglass, delves into a narrative reflective of the sorrow and despair entwined within war-torn regions like Ukraine and beyond. The acoustic guitar and drum machine create a Cocteau Twins' 'Treasure'-esque soundscape, evoking a melancholic yet beautiful auditory journey. Iceglass's voice, transitioning from her husky baritone to a more resigned lament, embodies a poignant reflection on the harsh realities faced by those embroiled in conflict-ridden landscapes.

180 G. BLACK VINYL WITH LINER NOTES IN CREOLE, FRENCH, ENGLISH

Originally released in 1979, "Spiritual Sound" lives up to its name, a soaring, triumphant album, six tracks of spirit magic from Guadeloupe.

Telluric, intense, terribly alive, the gwoka drums of Guadeloupe carry the identity of a painful and fervent island. Marked forever by the crime of slavery, Guadeloupe's créolité cherishes the ka drums and their natural environment: the low-pitched boula drum with male goatskin, the high-pitched soloist makè drum with female goatskin, the chacha, ti bwa, triangle, calabash and other percussion instruments that surround them, and the voices - the fiery, proud, timbred, urgent voices of the gwoka.



This album is also a legend for its voices: in his then dazzling youth, singer Lukuber Séjor was one of the first gwoka artists to largely feminize the chorus of répondè, who converse with his text delivered in a straight and powerful voice.

And everything here sets new standards. In 1979, Mizik Filamonik - Spiritual Sound proclaimed a spiritual patriotism of ferocious intensity. The album by Lukuber Séjor - whose spelling alone is a battle - sets out to give Guadeloupe the intangible weapons of self-respect and self-knowledge, through a singular practice of traditional music.

The genesis of gwoka music is less straightforward than one might imagine... The drums performed the servile task of accompanying the work of slaves in the fields and during the “corvées” imposed by the administration, before being freely practiced by the common people after the abolition of 1848. At the heart of the conviviality of the Guadeloupeans furthest from the cities - geographically and socially - the gwoka drums come out for carnival, funeral wakes and neighborhood celebrations, but also during strikes, fits of anger and armed vigils of the riots and revolts that have punctuated the island's history. For generations, governors of the colony and then the prefects of the overseas department of Guadeloupe have been viewing the gwoka as a potential for turbulence and a threat to public order.

But as the Beatlesmania, “chanson engagée” and rock revolutions unfolded in Europe, young people turned to the drums of mizik a vié nèg (“bad negro music”, in Creole), which Guadeloupeans had learned to despise by following the “assimilation” process advocated by the school system and most of the political class. At the end of the sixties, in a Guadeloupe mourning the deadly repression of the May 1967 social movement, they played traditional music, refusing to wrap it up in tourist prettiness and madras folk costumes. Instinctively, they played a rough and contemporary gwoka, led by the incendiary Guy Konkèt. This was the era of decisive 45 rpm records such as Robert Loyson's Kann a la richès, which brought to light the fieriest words of union rallies.

At his home in Sainte-Anne, Lukuber Séjor played with flautist Olivier Vamur and his brother Claude Vamur, who cobbled together a drum kit from tin crockery and became, a few years later, the most influential drummer in Kassav'.

These were the years of the Bumidom program, when young Guadeloupeans were encouraged to emigrate to mainland France. At the age of twenty, Lukuber Séjor embarked on the liner Irpinia, disembarking at Le Havre and taking the train to the Gare Saint-Lazare - the route taken by thousands of young West Indians who went on to study or looked for work, all the while trying to maintain a link with their homeland. In this case, it's at the Antony university residence, where Lukuber played the drum and participated in a thousand gwoka updates and aggiornamentos, while exile reinforced the need for a spiritual link with the native land.

In 1978, Guy Konkèt played at the Salle Wagram, a historic event for West Indian music. After serving as répondè - i.e. backing vocalist - on one of his home-recorded albums, Lukuber joined his live band. Little by little, he became one of the key artists on a circuit parallel to French show business. At a student party in Caen, he met a young woman from Martinique who, at the time, was more motivated by her ambitions as a visual artist than by her vocation as a musician. Her name was Jocelyne Béroard and, a few years before she plunged into the Kassav' adventure and became the greatest West Indian singer of her generation, she designed the cover of Lukuber Séjor's LP.

This ambition was obvious and imposed its will. A more or less regular band was formed, with Roger Raspail, Rudy Mompière and Éric Danquin on ka drums, Claude Vamur on ti bwa, Olivier Vamur and Françoise Lancréot on flutes and Annick Noël on keyboards. Lukuber Séjor is set on wanting to extend the gwoka palette to other instruments, as the jazz-rock revolution opens a thousand new doors. Annick Noël will play a wide range of timbres and textures on electric piano and synthesizer. Another novelty: the répondè are two men and two women, Roger Raspail, Olivier Vamur, Françoise Lancréot and Maryann Mathéus ...

Mizik Filamonik - Spiritual Sound is a self-production in which the singer and leader sank all his savings, allowing him no more than a single day in the studio. The first side is more of a musical manifesto, with the first two tracks, Éritage and Penn é plézi, being instrumentals. The third, Son, forcefully celebrates the need for Guadeloupeans to connect with the gwoka. In fact, Jocelyne Béroard's cover shows a tambouyé in the shadow of a cloudy sky, against which a radiant sun is rising and whose light will soon flood the entire landscape. The silhouette and face of this man strongly evoke the immense Vélo, master of the ka, rejected at the time on the fringes of society.

The second side of the LP is surprising. Formally, three tracks are explicitly linked like the three parts of a triptych. Primyé voyaj evokes the appalling tribulation of Africans deported as slaves to Guadeloupe; dézyèm voyaj speaks of the Bumidom program and the economic, political and social forces driving young Guadeloupeans towards the mirage of prosperity in France; twazyèm voyaj closes the cycle with the emigrants' return from Europe after years away from their island...

This gwoka, obsessed with the need to save Guadeloupe spiritually, appeals far beyond the politicized audience. Mizik Filamonik - Spiritual Sound instantly became a classic, although Lukuber Séjor never really made a career for himself as a musician.

After all, the album was released in 1980, with no promotional resources in France or Guadeloupe - and therefore no concerts. The thirty-two-year-old author, composer and performer made his own third trip back to Guadeloupe. He set up a small woodworking business, which he lost in Hurricane Hugo in 1989. His other activity, teaching in a medical-educational institute, became the core of his professional life. He continued to be an active campaigner - a campaigner for the Creole language, a campaigner for the reawakening of identity, a campaigner for special education, a campaigner for a thousand causes that he ignited with his generous and perceptive enthusiasm, such as the defense of breadfruit fries...

The echoes of his 1979 album have not died down. Of course, the use of Penn é plézi as the theme tune for Radio Guadeloupe's funeral notices from 1980 to 1992 kept him in the collective memory, but he continues to sing and compose sporadically, as with his all-female

vocal group Vwapoulouéka... Still convinced that music is a means of liberating the spirit, he continues the journey of a young man eager to deploy the power of Creole music and language.

Bertrand Dicale

"Acid Floresta" is the result of a process of sonic recognition and translation. A term that has taken shape over the past few years to name a search that, in reality, began more than a decade ago: the intersection between foreign rhythms and the music that inhabits the streets, with its social dynamics and its irreducible vitality.



This album is born from the observation and listening of the everyday sounds that shape the sonic identity of the neighborhood: the corner store, the metro, the billiard hall, the street corner. Spaces where music is not a choice but a constant pulse of life. The percussion of the street, the echo of a distant radio, the spontaneous phrasing of a conversation—these become raw material. From there, the process moves to the studio, where bass, synthesizers, drum machines, and samplers serve as tools of translation: what begins as a documentation of reality transforms into a musical interpretation.



At this point, a tension emerges between what is learned and what is felt. For years, tropical music and vallenato were part of a sonic landscape that coexisted with external influences, generating both distance and affinity. But within that push and pull—between the familiar and the unknown—a common thread was revealed: sabor. Not as a genre, but as an essence, a vital and irreplace able force.



"Acid Floresta" is structured in three and the performative stage, where music returns to the streets, closing the cycle. It is in this final moment that its true nature emerges: in the shared vibration, in danceability, in what connects beyond geography and context.

The album proposes a dialogue between intimacy and collective experimentation, between latineo and electronic music, between the raw and the processed. A space where the music of the streets and the music of the floresta converge to create a new sonic memory.

Funk Cabal's latest release is a bold fusion of hard-hitting electro-funk, cinematic textures, and art-rock sensibilities. Channelling the deep grooves of Kerri Chandler, the atmospheric tension of Massive Attack, and the poetic urgency of Gil Scott-Heron, their sound is a masterclass in contrast - where gritty analogue beats collide with ethereal synth backed landscapes. Smoky, introspective vocals intertwine with pulsing club energy in a mesmerising collection of ideas. Echoes of sly romanticism and widescreen synth work add depth to their palette, creating something absolutely timeless.