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In an era defined by futility, isolation, and precarity, it can be difficult to envision a utopia. But on Skeleten’s thrilling, immersive debut album, Under Utopia, the Sydney musician dares to imagine new ways of being that are not characterized by doom or despair. Across eleven tracks of free-flowing, transcendent, and often euphoric electronic music, Skeleten praises the power of comradery and community; while dreaming of a future that is joyously boundless. 



Skeleten, real name Russell Fitzgibbon, has always been fascinated by the ideas of utopias. He’s thought a lot about how the concept has shifted and morphed throughout history, and how the goal post for a utopia is always moving further and further away. “We're more familiar with the idea of a dystopia in the modern world - that's more close to our consciousness. I think on this album I wanted to explore the importance of imaging and embodying a new world.”

Written before and during the pandemic, the album was born out of a desire to connect with others and to shake the mantle of introspection that had been placed on his previous works. From the opening notes of the otherworldly album opener “Generator”, it's clear that this record prioritises immediate pleasures without forgoing intimacy. The lyrics are also more explicit, reaching outward with inviting choruses and mantra-like melodies. “I think the album came out of the experience of feeling this great desire to reconnect and dreaming of the power of community,” says the musician.

This is especially present in lead single ‘Sharing The Fire’, a song that crackles with optimism. A sprawling dance track with pulsating synths and Fitzgibbon’s gentle, warm vocals, the song is about futures that are full of brightness and bliss. As the artist repeats in the song’s chorus: “for all that you know, summer could be around the corner.” The song is about an “almost frustrated desire to connect with more people and feel that sense of community through shared goals.” The accompanying video clip, shot on 35mm, is similarly invested in ideas of companionship and gathering. Shot in a clinical, drab office space, friends and revelers fill the space with warmth and energy.

Elsewhere, this invocation of paradise is infused in the stripped-back, singular title track “Under Utopia”. The song was significant to Fitzgibbon, as it allowed him to gather all his thoughts and ideas about his new music under one message. “It’s something I wrote when I had this collection of songs and wanted to give it a single voice, which was about seeing the world entirely new, full of hope and beauty, and all of us underneath pushing it upwards.” 

An antidote for gloom presented in Under Utopia is the transformative power of love. There’s “Heart Full Of Tenderness”, a woozy, languorous love song, awash with cloudy vocals and glistening synths; the truncated beats and hypnotic pleading of “Territory Day” and “Right Here It’s Only Love” which explores the icier and ambient side of R’n’B.


Another hallmark that characterizes Under Utopia is Fitzgibbon’s airy and spacious mix, which gives his songs room to sprawl out and simmer; as well as allowing his calming baritone to come to the fore. This is notable in the contemplative, synth-laden “Colour Room”, the funk-tinged “Walking On Your Name,” the previously released “No Drones in the Afterlife,” and the beloved early single “Mirrored,” which speaks of finding yourself through a connection to those around you.

Fitzgibbon has been enmeshed in the Sydney music scene for years. Skeleten emerged out of a need to experiment and make music without worrying about the outcome. “It was just me making music that felt right, and very much focusing on this kind of meditative aspect of exploring without any goal,” says Fitzgibbon. But as the project has evolved, the artist has gained clarity on what he hopes his music will achieve: bringing people together, and creating an atmosphere of elation. Or as Fitzgibbon puts it on Under Utopia’s hallucinatory album closer “We’re gonna get everything we need in the world.”

Repress!

N0!zy blighter Russell Haswell returns to Diagonal 5 years after his label debut with a spontaneously combusting follow-up to ’37 Minute Workout’ generated again from a mix of analog/digital synths and modular systems edited on a computer. It was inspired by a visit to CERN, The European Organisation for Nuclear Research, in Geneva; and dinner with Ted Nelson, whose theories of interwingularity and transclusion chimed with the direction recordings took.There are few artists who can genuinely make music that sounds like your needle and/or record is melting, but Russell Haswell is one of them. His 2nd volume of extremely kinky calisthenics is a potent example of daring to be different in a world where exponentially increasing production options are leading producers of all stripes to the exact same conclusions. But, with thanks to Russell’s iconoclastic intent, restless nature and ascetic aesthetics, he still sounds quite like nobody else, and, even better yet, doesn’t give a shit if you like it or not. For the record (this one in particular), we’re all over it like a hot rash.
Since reincorporating his early love of freestyle electro and Industrial dance music into his patented n0!ze matrices circa the 1st volume of ’37 Minute Workout’, Russell has steered that rhythm-driven style into a string of fizzy bangers for Diagonal and even applied it to his production for Consumer Electronics with typically radical results. Russell’s 2nd volume of ’37 Minute Workout’ is cut from similarly (but never the same) ragged material as the first batch, and spits, kicks and claws with equal amounts of eething, pent energy and rambunctiousness ready to jab the ‘floor in the eye or dissolve a party where needed.
Crowbarring cues ranging from the Latin Rascals to Incapacitants and Jeff Mills into 7 wickedly awkward designs, Haswell keeps his avant aerobics radically irregular as he hops from the tendon-twitching angularity of ‘The Wild Horses of the Revolution have arrived Without Knight’ to steel-hoofed clatter in ‘Central Crisis Management Cell’ and the lacquer-eating dynamics of ‘Painful
Memories From The Past Need To Be Acknowledged’, before toning a proper nasty acid special in the UR inversion ‘Dancing on the Head of an Eagle’, and seemingly sucking your brain out thru a straw with ‘Starting Something You’re Not Able To Finish’, with the dry witted, skeletal jazz-funk squirm of ‘Diplomatic Cocktail Circuit’ closing the party down in style.

After the acclaimed ΠΟΛΙΣ, Subheim returns with RAEON; a collection of eight new tracks for lonely evenings and long night drives. With RAEON, Subheim continues to expand into the sonic territory he has steadily been exploring since 2015’s Foray, the album that marked the project’s shift towards moodier, highly textured, lofi compositions through the use of sampling and heavy audio manipulation. While this EP feels like a natural continuation of the producer’s most recent work, it is intentionally stripped of any percussive elements, with the focus being entirely placed on space and melody.

Each composition feels like a distant, fading memory that unfolds faster than you expect it to and dissolves into an echoing nothingness before you’re able to hold on to it for more than a few seconds. Much like a long-distance train passing by or perhaps like a song you might hear in your sleep.

Every piece serves as a different chapter of the same open-ended narrative; one where stillness, grief and hope simultaneously coexist in perfect harmony. Intentionally imperfect, naturally gritty, spacious as ever, this new record balances between fragility and conviction, and once more illustrates the deeply human side of its creator.

In contrast to some of the producer’s darker work, RAEON is filled with an undertone of bittersweet hopefulness and a strong desire for new life. With the juxtaposition of nostalgic, synthesized, analog sounds and neoclassical elements, Subheim strikes the perfect balance between past and future, between melancholy and hope. And while the closing track is almost ironically called “Forget”, its ending will leave you longing for more and wondering what else is there.

In the KID BE KID superhero universe, the fact that she is not only a singer but also a virtuoso pianist goes without saying. So much talent in one person would hardly be bearable if KID BE KID wasn't, above all, such a lovable funky freak!
"Naked Times! No More Lies! Here I am strippin' straight in front of your eyes," she chants in a futuristic dress with a gigantic shoulder width, and in the video clip she skillfully oscillates between the authenticity of her live performance and the complete unreality of the production.
Musically, it sounds like a finely curated neo-soul record collection pushed through a 2030s cyber-sound AI. Except that with KID BE KID, the beats don't come from the hard drive, but from her body: Human Beat Boxing. So hip-hop community members are welcome to nod their heads here.

In the 10 songs contained on "Truly A Live Goal But No Ice Cream" KID BE KID reflects on our existence between Internet publicity and Home Sweet Home, in which the mere start of the day can become a regular challenge! KID BE KID arms herself against the personified time and gives it an ultimatum: "Don't you dare not be better than last year!". As a result, everything in her life as well as musically finally takes a turn for the better...

KID BE KID has been touring Europe almost non-stop since last summer, has been recording vocals for Netflix ("Rumsspringa") and, in her remaining free time, has been hanging out in the young Berlin jazz and abstract beats scene.
All these influences can now be heard on her fantastic new album, where KID BE KID seems extremely determined to make the world a little bit better with her art:
"We are here for a reason, Move! Be the better Move!", she challenges herself and us in her song "Move" and of course: KID BE KID is a movement we are only too happy to join in 2023.

She has been a celebrated sensation for years for her live performances anyway, so it's no wonder that she is only too happy to make fun of all the boring online productions, including bloated self-marketing in her lyrics: "You'll have to post 5 times a week, at least 5 videos and one pic, if not your audience won't grow".
But since we have all become little self-marketing monsters with the desire for constant virtual pats on the back, KID BE KID directs this criticism primarily at herself: "Of course: For love everybody seeks, But it makes me sick, to do so, too" it also says in the song ("News Feed").

Well, when this album comes out in June, the ice cream parlors should finally be open again in real life. Walking there, with KID BE KID on the AirPods, we make a few jumps of joy! Because, honestly? This is really so incredibly good.

In a world of endless, bottomless content, to find something that stands out from the crowd is a rare thing. But it’s something that 7ebra manage without breaking a sweat. Based in Malmö, twin sisters Inez and Ella Johansson deal in sparkling indie-rock that’s pretty without being soft, sweet without losing its edge and catchy without being cheap. With Inez on guitar and vocals and Ella on keys, organ and Mellotron, their minimal set-up makes a virtue of simplicity – with a sliver of guitar fuzz, and organ lines snaking around stark, striking vocals, augmented by shivering harmonies, they don’t need a lot to make music that’s colourful, kaleidoscopic, and effortlessly original.

7ebra debuted in 2022 with the double-single “I Have A Lot To Say”/ “If I Ask Her”, two helpings of psych-tinged, street-smart rock and roll, and the music scene around them wasn’t slow to notice. They opened for the Future Islands and the Dandy Warhols, were picked out by Apple Music’s Matt Wilkinson as a Hidden Gem of 2022 and were booked for prestigious showcases SXSW and Eurosonic. With a packed schedule of shows across Europe and the UK already planned for 2023, their world looks set to get a lot bigger – something that their debut album Bird Hour makes certain. The record is a warm, elegant introduction to the sound 7ebra have crafted. The songs are full of personality and character, but also retain a little bit of enigma, a sense of keeping something secret to themselves. To unwrap that elusiveness is a daunting task, but one the listener can’t resist leaping into.

Ella and Inez’s parents played in bands as they were growing up, so picking up music was a natural thing for them. The origins of 7ebra start with Inez whiling away the hours playing guitar in her bedroom. “I learned by playing covers by myself in my room”, she says. “Ella didn’t do that as much, but we sometimes played and sang together, country songs”. Eventually she would start writing her own. Ella wasn’t involved originally (“we did play together a few times”, she says, “and it just went to shit laughs. We fought a lot”), and Inez was originally reluctant: “I was a bit unsure whether I wanted to be in a band with my sister. Because you get clumped together all the time, when you’re twins”. But Ella was keen to join, and eventually persuaded Inez to let her join for a show. It went – so well that producer Tore Johansson (The Cardigans, Franz Ferdinand), saw it and asked if they’d like to record with him. That changed things, says Ella: “It made us think there might be something in this music”. As a duo, 7ebra were in flight. “In the end, it’s kind of a nice thing too being sisters in a band”, Inez says. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. It just made sense to play together”.

On the album that they eventually came up with, the talent that caught Johansson’s eye is immediately obvious. Opener “Secretly Bad” has a way of walking along your nerves, an eerie echo of a hymn in Inez’s vocal backed by a swirl of woozy blend of guitars and organ. That’s followed up by “I Like To Pretend”, an easily charming song that has a sleepy brightness about it, like morning sunlight breaking through a window. They take a couple of different genres for a whirl on Bird Hour – they’re tense and snappy on “If I Ask Her”, breezy and cocky on “Lighter Better”, and there’s even a couple of droplets of blues and folk in the mix, in the raw intensity of the emotions in the slower songs, the vulnerability and aching of songs like “Lean” and “Stripey Horsey”. The record has a way of sweeping you along in its mood and tones, fuelled in part by the band’s use of repetition, sometimes fast and fevered, sometimes crawling and hypnotic. The duo’s musical input blends perfectly, with Inez’s guitar and vocals forming the core, and Ella drawing in the detail with keys, organ, and harmonies, to really bring out the vivid nature of the songs. Indie rock that’s melodic and sweet, but with enough shadow mixed in to make it really compelling.

On Bird Hour, what strikes you first about 7ebra’s sound is how fully formed it is, how much they’ve carved out their own sonic territory, perfected by trial and error in the studio with Johansson. “Tore wanted us to try everything possible”, says Ella. “We had moments where things weren’t working. But that was necessary in order to find the good stuff”. 7ebra’s signature might be found in the deft way they deal with emotion – unafraid of being open, but a little too clever to make things too clear cut: “You can’t take yourself that seriously. It’s too emotional to take it seriously, to start hating yourself. But at the same time, it is quite serious”, says Ella. Another trademark is the simplicity – a 7ebra song has just enough to make it work, and nothing more. “I think it was important for me that our voices were at the centre of the songs”, says Inez, “that all the little melodies have their place, and don’t get overwhelmed. With lyrics, I sometimes come up with something, and just feel ‘there’s no need to add more to this’. Sometimes a line works by itself. You don’t have to add a bunch of lyrics”. Finally, the album’s themes are ones that will resonate with most people that have set foot on this planet. “I guess it’s about trying to understand yourself, in relation to others. Just life. ‘Why am I not good at this, why is this thing happening to me, why is this thing so hard, why am I so stupid?’”, laughs Ella.

7ebra haven’t been around for very long – but a handful of songs and their fizzing live shows have stirred up the biggest buzz in Scandinavian music in quite a while. Their debut album justifies it all. It showcases the magic they’re capable of conjuring up, and hints at even more to come in the future. But from where they are right now, they’ve made something very special. Bird Hour takes all that promise and turns it into something concrete, in the form of one of the year’s best rock debuts.

In a world of endless, bottomless content, to find something that stands out from the crowd is a rare thing. But it’s something that 7ebra manage without breaking a sweat. Based in Malmö, twin sisters Inez and Ella Johansson deal in sparkling indie-rock that’s pretty without being soft, sweet without losing its edge and catchy without being cheap. With Inez on guitar and vocals and Ella on keys, organ and Mellotron, their minimal set-up makes a virtue of simplicity – with a sliver of guitar fuzz, and organ lines snaking around stark, striking vocals, augmented by shivering harmonies, they don’t need a lot to make music that’s colourful, kaleidoscopic, and effortlessly original.

7ebra debuted in 2022 with the double-single “I Have A Lot To Say”/ “If I Ask Her”, two helpings of psych-tinged, street-smart rock and roll, and the music scene around them wasn’t slow to notice. They opened for the Future Islands and the Dandy Warhols, were picked out by Apple Music’s Matt Wilkinson as a Hidden Gem of 2022 and were booked for prestigious showcases SXSW and Eurosonic. With a packed schedule of shows across Europe and the UK already planned for 2023, their world looks set to get a lot bigger – something that their debut album Bird Hour makes certain. The record is a warm, elegant introduction to the sound 7ebra have crafted. The songs are full of personality and character, but also retain a little bit of enigma, a sense of keeping something secret to themselves. To unwrap that elusiveness is a daunting task, but one the listener can’t resist leaping into.

Ella and Inez’s parents played in bands as they were growing up, so picking up music was a natural thing for them. The origins of 7ebra start with Inez whiling away the hours playing guitar in her bedroom. “I learned by playing covers by myself in my room”, she says. “Ella didn’t do that as much, but we sometimes played and sang together, country songs”. Eventually she would start writing her own. Ella wasn’t involved originally (“we did play together a few times”, she says, “and it just went to shit laughs. We fought a lot”), and Inez was originally reluctant: “I was a bit unsure whether I wanted to be in a band with my sister. Because you get clumped together all the time, when you’re twins”. But Ella was keen to join, and eventually persuaded Inez to let her join for a show. It went – so well that producer Tore Johansson (The Cardigans, Franz Ferdinand), saw it and asked if they’d like to record with him. That changed things, says Ella: “It made us think there might be something in this music”. As a duo, 7ebra were in flight. “In the end, it’s kind of a nice thing too being sisters in a band”, Inez says. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. It just made sense to play together”.

On the album that they eventually came up with, the talent that caught Johansson’s eye is immediately obvious. Opener “Secretly Bad” has a way of walking along your nerves, an eerie echo of a hymn in Inez’s vocal backed by a swirl of woozy blend of guitars and organ. That’s followed up by “I Like To Pretend”, an easily charming song that has a sleepy brightness about it, like morning sunlight breaking through a window. They take a couple of different genres for a whirl on Bird Hour – they’re tense and snappy on “If I Ask Her”, breezy and cocky on “Lighter Better”, and there’s even a couple of droplets of blues and folk in the mix, in the raw intensity of the emotions in the slower songs, the vulnerability and aching of songs like “Lean” and “Stripey Horsey”. The record has a way of sweeping you along in its mood and tones, fuelled in part by the band’s use of repetition, sometimes fast and fevered, sometimes crawling and hypnotic. The duo’s musical input blends perfectly, with Inez’s guitar and vocals forming the core, and Ella drawing in the detail with keys, organ, and harmonies, to really bring out the vivid nature of the songs. Indie rock that’s melodic and sweet, but with enough shadow mixed in to make it really compelling.

On Bird Hour, what strikes you first about 7ebra’s sound is how fully formed it is, how much they’ve carved out their own sonic territory, perfected by trial and error in the studio with Johansson. “Tore wanted us to try everything possible”, says Ella. “We had moments where things weren’t working. But that was necessary in order to find the good stuff”. 7ebra’s signature might be found in the deft way they deal with emotion – unafraid of being open, but a little too clever to make things too clear cut: “You can’t take yourself that seriously. It’s too emotional to take it seriously, to start hating yourself. But at the same time, it is quite serious”, says Ella. Another trademark is the simplicity – a 7ebra song has just enough to make it work, and nothing more. “I think it was important for me that our voices were at the centre of the songs”, says Inez, “that all the little melodies have their place, and don’t get overwhelmed. With lyrics, I sometimes come up with something, and just feel ‘there’s no need to add more to this’. Sometimes a line works by itself. You don’t have to add a bunch of lyrics”. Finally, the album’s themes are ones that will resonate with most people that have set foot on this planet. “I guess it’s about trying to understand yourself, in relation to others. Just life. ‘Why am I not good at this, why is this thing happening to me, why is this thing so hard, why am I so stupid?’”, laughs Ella.

7ebra haven’t been around for very long – but a handful of songs and their fizzing live shows have stirred up the biggest buzz in Scandinavian music in quite a while. Their debut album justifies it all. It showcases the magic they’re capable of conjuring up, and hints at even more to come in the future. But from where they are right now, they’ve made something very special. Bird Hour takes all that promise and turns it into something concrete, in the form of one of the year’s best rock debuts.

Dire Straits' arresting self-titled debut arrived in the midst of punk's reign but couldn't have been further removed from the era's slash-and-burn style. Recorded in West London in February 1978, the band's tasteful, jazz-inflected set embraces folk, blues, and pub rock while also tracing a direct line back to the beat-oriented sound of early rock n' roll. Country and roots accents further distinguish the British quartet's stripped-down music from any 1970s peers, as does the transparent production, which has remained revered among audiophiles the world over – and which has never been better than on this meticulous pressing.

Mastered from the original master tapes and pressed at RTI, Mobile Fidelity's 180g 45RPM 2LP version of Dire Straits features natural tonalities, superb balances, you-are-there imaging, deep-black backgrounds, and pristine clarity. Even if you've heard this album hundreds of times before, you've never experienced it with such lifelike sonics and premium richness. This numbered-edition collector's set immerses you within the smoky, laidback atmospherics of every song. This is how all vinyl should sound.

Crucial to every arrangement, Mark Knopfler's winding guitar lines emerge with supreme transparency and multi-hued textural detail. His intricate playing comes across as if it's being transmitted via his 60s-era Fender Vibrolux amplifier placed right before you. The cleanliness, dimensions, and live feel are that good. His bandmates, too, benefit from the extra groove space afforded by this 45RPM edition. Rhythms skate and swirl; percussive effects resonate with crispness and attack; the leading edges of notes naturally decay.

Dire Straits' strong, well-edited batch of original material further enhances the overall enjoyment and makes the record one whose pleasures go far beyond the organic sonics. Just as Knopfler's narratives pour forth with poetic and surrealist texts, the musical settings – an intoxicating combination of easygoing shuffles, back-hall boogies, and pop-honed ballads – mirror the old-fashioned soulfulness inherent in the classic recordings of the late 50s and early 60s. The lyrics are equally captivating.

Drawing from his time as a youth in Newcastle, Leeds, and London, Knopfler invests tunes with an autobiographical slant and emotional connectivity that become obvious the moment he opens his mouth to sing. "Down to the Waterline," "Wild West End," and "Lions" all feature colloquial touches that add to their reach. By extension, "In the Gallery" functions as a tribute to Leeds sculptor Harry Phillips (father of future Knoplfer collaborator, Steve Phillips) while the record's breakout smash, "Sultans of Swing," pays homage to struggling bar bands.


Through it all, Dire Straits performs with a subtle cool and clever poise that no band ever matched. Just how good is the chemistry? Bob Dylan heard the quartet and invited Knopfler and drummer Pick Withers to play on Slow Train Coming. But even Dylan himself didn't hear Dire Straits sound this magnetic back in its original heyday. Now, everyone can.

Damian Lazarus celebrates 20 Years of his world-renowned Crosstown Rebels imprint with a special album project of unreleased cuts and fresh remixes, featuring material from Black Coffee, Maceo Plex, Art Department, Dennis Cruz and many more.

Undeniably one of the most influential record labels within underground dance music, releasing material from Laurent Garnier, Krust and Mathew Jonson to Rósìn Murphy, Deniz Kurtel, Francesca Lombardo and Jennifer Cardini while playing a pivotal part in the careers of artists like Maceo Plex, Jamie Jones, Art Department and Seth Troxler, Crosstown Rebels stands today as a hub and platform for flourishing projects across the electronic spectrum, including via sub-label Rebellion and across a long list of showcases across the globe. More than just your everyday label, the Crosstown Rebels legacy has grown alongside its founder in equal measure, with head honcho Damian Lazarus continually showcasing, championing and spotlighting artists from across the globe who share his radiant, experimental vision for house music and beyond. Ringing in a major milestone in style, 2023 will see the biggest twelve months to date as Lazarus and Crosstown mark the 20th Anniversary of the label with a series of projects set to be unveiled in the lead-up to summer, with ‘CR20 The Album’ set for release on 12th May 2023.

“20 years ago, I dreamed a dream of creating a family of like-minded, crazy individuals from all corners of the planet - releasing music to the world and making people dance. That dream was Crosstown Rebels, and this year we are 20. Over these years, I have forged beautiful friendships, discovered very talented artists and tried my best to help, advise and support some of the most colourful characters in dance music. Crosstown Rebels is more than a record label, it is family.
So 2023 will mark the label’s 20th Anniversary. This is an opportunity for the Crosstown Rebels family, a global community of artists, DJs and creatives, and the label’s myriad of followers to celebrate this momentous milestone. There will be parties and events around the world. A killer compilation of exclusives and special remixes, a beautiful coffee table book, a short film, and a special launch event are planned to bring together the sights and sounds of the label’s unique and influential history. There’s lots to share, announce and reminisce. 20 years young.” - Damian Lazarus.

Comprised of six stellar, high-profile remixes of releases from the label’s catalogue, alongside two previously unreleased original gems, the eight-track package is a rich and exemplary showcase of the far-reaching corners of the Crosstown Rebels sound and also its globally connected family of artists and close friends.

Opening the package, Lazarus’ own 2020 collaboration ‘Into The Sun’ with regular Crosstown vocalist Jem Cooke is given a cosmic rework by Johannesburg’s Major League DJz, while Jamie Jones’ slick ‘Paradise 2011’ is stripped back and given a new lease of life by the hypnotic and heady sounds of Art Department. Opening the B-Side, Dennis Cruz brings his percussive Latin-infused signature sound palette to Chilean musician and producer Pier Bucci’s ‘Hay Consuelo’, before Audiojack’s ‘Feel Good’, another standout collaboration alongside Cooke, is taken into synth-led territories as Michael Mayer reaches for an evolving bed of captivating tones.

The second half of the project brings more excellently remixed material, both new and old, with GRAMMY-winning DJ/producer Black Coffee turning his hand to the label’s first release of 2023 in Made By Pete and Zoe Kypri’s emotive ‘Horizon Red’, unveiling reworked melodies and sparkling keys as he delivers an interpretation of a track which has featured as a staple in his sets. Next, the project welcomes Adam Ten & Yamagucci’s playful yet off-kilter and wonky ‘The K Dance’ which unveils itself as a production perfect for those late night hours and early afters, before Ellum boss Maceo Plex’s ‘Together (2011 Mix)’ brings another lost production to the mix with a driving and zipping ride through sugary synths and soaring leads. To close, Tibi Dabo turns his attention to Guti & Dubshape’s absorbing ‘Every Cow Has A Bird’, delivering a nimble minimal-led trip through lush pads and crisp percussion to round things out in style.

Alongside the album, the 20 Year celebrations will also welcome a 192-page hardback book, ’20 Years Of Magic, Madness and Music’, with words from renowned journalist and key underground music player Joe Muggs, and a feature-length documentary directed by acclaimed director David Terranova.

Crosstown has become known globally for throwing some of the world’s best parties, from the wondrous cultural journey of Day Zero Tulum to longstanding Music Week marathon Get Lost Miami. This ethos of creating magical dancefloor moments spills into the label’s 20 year celebration with its worldwide Get Lost tour, launched with Get Lost Miami, and followed by Bali, Tokyo, Ibiza, Dubai, Istanbul, Rome, Paris, London, Berlin and more, plus a special to-be-announced London showcase.

Sometimes, things "just happen". For months, we’d been working away on various projects and then, without really thinking about it, The Black EP just happened. It seemingly appeared from nowhere.

We’d been talking about the old days; making music with friends and dodgy kit, renting small practice rooms and using makeshift recording studios. It was such a common thing back then, you could pick a dusty space in a half-derelict building for as little as £25 a month. In those days, the Cabs and Human League had studios with posh-sounding names, but in reality, they were the same old workspaces long abandoned by the industries they were built for. Nevertheless, the grand names made them sound magical.

Sheffield had thousands of these spaces, and some still exist today, but their abundance and low-cost made Sheffield a very active place. Someone was always doing something. They’d exploded onto the scene in a flurry of excitement before disappearing just as quickly.

There’s something about these little mesters (workshops) that we believe lives in the very consciousness of Sheffield. It’s one of the reasons we never really had big scenes like Manchester or Leeds. The Hacienda would've never been built here.

We don’t really do big gangs or have that kind of mentality. We tend to exist in little pockets, often leaving each other alone. It would be 30 years before any member of The Black Dog talked to Cabaret Voltaire. Sure, we’d stood outside their practice room as kids, trying to listen in, but never felt any reason to approach. Sheffield is like that.

Once we had the first two tracks of the Black EP, we set off to see Jon at Do It Theesen, where he manually cut the tracks to an extremely limited set of 7" singles using a vinyl lathe. It just felt right to go back to the old ways; a small gang creating something special in workshops and sheds. There’s something very satisfying about it, a perfect circle, if you will.

We pushed further by adopting old practices, working with one synth per person and limiting the use of our computers. We only stopped short of putting everything on beer crates. It seems like madness these days, but there is raw creativity within these confines. Pretty much every band started this way. Depeche Mode travelled to the studio on the London Underground for their first appearance on Top Of The Pops, all lugging a synth each. That's how we approached the creation of this album; stripped back, raw and minimal - it just felt so right.

And then there’s the competitive element that was influenced when the original Human League split and became Human League MK II and Heaven 17. Both continued to use the same studio to write what became the albums "Dare" and "Penthouse and Pavement". There is something about that drive that is very Sheffield, just making stuff and hoping everything falls into place.

In Sheffield, we do things differently, because that’s how we are built. away on various projects and then, without really thinking about it, The Black EP just happened. It seemingly appeared from nowhere.

blueblue is the latest full-length from multi-instrumentalist and all-around vibe wizard, Sam Gendel. The record, out via Leaving Records, is a concise, tightly wound song suite whose 14 tracks each correspond to a pattern within sashiko, a traditional style of Japanese embroidery. This conceit remains playfully ambiguous — to what extent, if at all, is Kagome (woven bamboo) meant to evoke the pattern of the same name, for example? But there is an intuitive sense, throughout blueblue, that Gendel has, in this instance, narrowed his focus. To say that blueblue feels richly textural might be a little on-the-nose, thematically, but alas…it does. There is an intimacy, a humility, and a strength at play here that typifies the work of a master craftsman. Only an artist could make it sound so effortless.

A Los Angeleno by way of Central CA, Gendel is by now an institution. Across a dizzying slate of solo releases and collaborations, he has amassed a reputation for not only virtuosic musicianship (primarily as a saxophonist, though the songs that would become blueblue were all initially composed on guitar), but also for his mercurial and prolific output — a corpus of work, which, while obviously indebted to jazz and hip hop (and the farther flung, experimental corners of both) is, in a word, unpindownable.

The bulk of blueblue was recorded in isolation in a makeshift studio built in a cabin floating atop a tributary of Oregon’s Columbia River. Having sketched out a set of guitar melodies, Gendel recorded the album in five-or-so weeks, during which time he became well-acquainted with the river’s tidal rise and fall. This organic rhythm, which daily lifted the house to meet the horizon, later setting it down gently upon the riverbed, permeates t

Created during the dark days of lockdown, Rnbws' debut on Nehza Records is a luminous blend of contemporary breaks, enchanting techno and a flash of house. Each track tells a story of our connexion to Earth and an ongoing glimpse of danger within sight. Rnbws has dubbed each side of the release “Dark” and “Bright'' to represent moody tones and doom-ridden rhythms on Side A, while Side B leans towards spirited melodies to signify hope and restoration.

Side A — the “Dark Side” — opens with ‘Could Happen To Anyone’. Led by a twisted vocal that morphs into a myriad of crispy hi-hats and low-slung basslines, the intro track reflects the theme of the label; consumerism in the Western world and the terrifying consequences inflicted by human behaviour that could indeed, happen to anyone. ‘Modelicious’ follows suit, stepping up the pace with loopy 808 drums and crunchy percussion, kindling Rnbws flair for electro. ‘Untied’ fizzes with a bang of The Prodigy’s early sound thanks to stripped-back drums and a fully charged synth exploding to the fore, which Rnbws intricately reworked for the record.

On the flip, 'Devotion' marks the “Bright Side''. The track is a mesmerizing house groove, layered with uplifting chords and arpeggiated synths to provide a burst of heartfelt rhythm. This is the track made for hazy outdoor settings to welcome festival season as RONI curates each release in tandem with the four seasons.

‘Salvation’ settles the pace with an acid-drenched lead splattered against dreamy pads and smooth bass, hinting that there is still time to take action and salvage the Earth. The ambient-style ‘Stupid’ closes the EP, neatly taking Rnbws' preceding productions and packing them into one short, shimmering departure to end the aural trip. In the style of Nehza Records, the final track title coincides with questioning the warped view of those in power who fuel the destruction of our environment.

Following on from the compilation of Contact-U's foundational UK dance music, 'Dancing Inner Space, 1982-84', Freestyle return to the Challenge Records vaults to reissue another killer Rick de Jongh & Andy Sojka production in the form of Distance's Just One More Kiss.

"We usually recorded at Vineyard studio which was situated in a Victorian warehouse site behind Borough underground station (later owned by the Stock, Aitken Waterman production team)", recalls Rick de Jongh, "but for a reason I can't remember we recorded this record at Phil Fearon's home studio in Kensal Rise - he probably gave us a good deal!". Fearon had been a member of the band Kandidate and was at the time the lead singer and songwriter in Galaxy and would later go on to helm the legendary Production House label in the late 80s and into the early 90s. Rick recalls the studio, a converted back bedroom, being as well equipped as any pro studio though not without it's quirks - "the odd electrical glitch would occur, especially when somebody put the kettle on, which would play havoc with sync codes etc. and we would often have to start again!"

Most of the track had been laid down by Sojka & de Jongh before approaching vocalist Janey Hallett. "At the time Janey was a vocalist with Mari Wilson & The Wilsations, who had a big hit a year or so earlier with 'Just What I Always Wanted' and was introduced to us by our regular keyboard player Garry Hughes, who also brought along Julia Fordham - then a fellow singer in the Wilsations - who provided backing vocals on the track."

Challenge Records would again later utilize the backing vocals of both Janey and Julia on some of their forays into the world of Hi-NRG records. In places there is a certain Hi-NRG tinge to this track, and at times Janey's vocal (in combination with the stripped back and heavy electro backing track) bring to mind the US-based latin freestyle sound of the late 1980s. All in all, it is another piece of foundational & criminally undersung UK dance music, which surely has a place in a wide-range of DJ's record bags!

Steve Gunn has always had one foot in indie rock and the other in an expansive improvisational scene. His songwriter albums alternate with freewheeling jams, most notably in his Gunn-Truscinski Duo, but are not confined to that. So when Gunn decided to revisit Other You, it made sense that he brought in some guests from the far side of the commercial/experimental spectrum to reimagine his songs. Nakama presents five tracks from that last album, reshaped by artists that Gunn admires. The process loosens the songs up considerably.

To start, he calls in Mdou Moctar’s backing band (the American bassist Mikey Coltun and the other guitarist Ahmoudou Madassane) for “Protection.” The song already had a bit of blues-y swagger to it, with sharper-edged guitar rhythms also heard on the ultra-smooth Other You, but here the heat has an otherworldly desert sheen. Its caravan-traveling rhythm sways from side to side, digging in to to the upbeats in a way that is both kinetic and also hypnotically still. There’s some crowd noise in the background, the knot of people that regularly forms when Mdou and his compatriots plug in from Agadez, and a few mournful afro-blues licks arcing off the vamp. But mostly it’s a cut that reminds you how much African guitar music Gunn has absorbed (listen to “Tommy’s Congo” from Way Out Weather for proof), and how well it fits with what he does.

Gunn also brings in Circuit Des Yeux’s Haley Fohr to reconfigure “Ever Feel That Way,” and she sets the song’s drifting melancholy amid pensive minor-key piano chords. She strips back the ambient whoosh that surrounds the original, slows down the pace and presents the song in startling, unadorned clarity. Her version removes some of the sticky, over-prettiness that I found so distracting in Other You. The melody is better, purer and more focused without the frills. There is also an electronic remake of “Reflection” from David Moore’s ambient ensemble Bing and Ruth, which traps Gunn’s fragile vocals in a shivering palace of synthetic tones. It’s enjoyable in its way, but the two sensibilities never quite meld together.

The best part comes when Gunn joins forces with Joshua Abrams’ Natural Information Society in remakes of “Good Wind” and “On the Way.” The former is a matter of subtle differences: the gentle pitch and roll under Gunn’s voice, the intermittent liquid runs of bass between widely spaced phrases. Abrams and his crew open up the jazz-leaning, reiterative possibilities under Gunn’s song, but they don’t change it fundamentally. “On the Way” is even stronger, a glowing drone and a pattern of hand drums enveloping the melody. It makes the music seem more spiritual, more resonant, more deep and full of mysteries. It was striking enough that I had to go back to Other You to hear again an album that had left me cold. This new version of “On the Way” didn’t change that chill, but it gave me an idea of how strong the songs might have sounded in another setting. (by Jennifer Kelly)

Sacramento, CA duo Blank Gloss’s third album, Cornered, is an exquisite statement of pop ambient starkness, an album that oscillates between lush beauty and spare melancholy. It follows from their 2021 debut for Kompakt, Melt, an album that saw Morgan Fox (piano, synths) and Patrick Hills (guitar) aligned, loosely, with the cosmic pastorale of the ‘ambient Americana’ movement. Cornered feels like a significant step forward, though – by peeling back the layers of their music, they’ve revealed both its restful core and its solemn gravitas. It is unendingly lovely, but with something disquieting at its centre.

Cornered was recorded quickly, over two days in December 2020. There’s nothing rushed or haphazard about the album, though; everything has its place, with each sonic element contributing profoundly to these nine miniature dioramas. It signals change, quietly but perceptibly, through the way the duo sculpts their material, building out of loose improvisations that morphed into songs. While there was no plan in mind when Blank Gloss settled into the studio, Fox recalls that “right away we realised that things were sounding and feeling a bit different than any of the sessions we had previously.”

That difference can be heard in the increased amount of space Blank Gloss gift to their sound sources. Some of the most moving moments on Cornered come when Fox and Hills strip everything back – see, for example, “Crossing”, which sets pensive piano across a shyly humming drone and quiet arcs of guitar, recalling the driftworks of Roger Eno. Curiously, the album’s distinctive shape and mood develops, at least in part, from a change in instrumentation, with Hills using a MIDI pick-up on his guitar. “This resulted in making things happen a lot quicker,” Fox says. “It also helped create what I think is a bit more sombre, dark feeling to some of the songs.”

Elsewhere, on songs like “Salt”, the piano tussles with flecks of guitar, single tones sent out to mingle with the stars, like Morricone at 16 RPM, while Cornered’s centrepiece, the eleven-minute “No Appetite”, lets long arcs of electronic texture breathe and sigh, tangling together in a cat’s cradle of bliss. Throughout, it feels as though the music is blossoming as you hear it, like watching time-lapse footage of flora in bloom. But perhaps the most seductive thing about Cornered is the sense you get, listening, that the music was something unexpected, a visitation. “It almost felt like we weren’t dictating where the music went and how it sounded,” Fox agrees. “We were just there in a room together in December and these sounds were happening, and we were lucky enough to be recording the process.”

Cornered, das dritte Album des kalifornischen Duos Blank Gloss aus Sacramento, ist ein exquisites Statement von pop ambienter Krassheit, ein Album, das zwischen üppiger Schönheit und sparsamer Melancholie oszilliert. Es folgt ihrem 2021er Debüt für Kompakt, Melt, einem Album, auf dem sich Morgan Fox (Klavier, Synthesizer) und Patrick Hills (Gitarre) locker an der kosmischen Pastorale der „Ambient Americana“-Bewegung ausrichteten. Cornered fühlt sich jedoch wie ein bedeutender Schritt nach vorne an – indem sie die Schichten ihrer Musik abschälen, haben sie sowohl ihren ruhigen Kern als auch ihre feierliche Schwere offenbart. Es ist unendlich schön, aber mit etwas Beunruhigendem in seiner Mitte.

Cornered wurde relativ schnell aufgenommen, über zwei Tage im Dezember 2020. Es klingt jedoch nichts überstürzt oder willkürlich an diesem Album; alles hat seinen Platz, wobei jedes Klangelement einen wesentlichen Beitrag zu diesen neun Miniaturdioramen leistet. Es signalisiert Veränderung, leise, aber wahrnehmbar, durch die Art und Weise, wie das Duo sein Material formt und aus losen Improvisationen aufbaut, die sich in Songs verwandeln. Als Blank Gloss sich im Studio niederließen, gab es zwar keinen Plan, aber Fox erinnert sich: „Uns war sofort klar, dass sich die Dinge etwas anders anhörten und anfühlten als bei allen vorherigen Sessions.“

Dieser Unterschied ist in der größeren Menge an Raum zu hören, die Blank Gloss ihren Klangquellen bietet. Einige der bewegendsten Momente auf Cornered kommen, wenn Fox und Hills alles zurücknehmen – siehe zum Beispiel „Crossing“, wo ein nachdenkliches Klavier über einen schüchtern summenden Drone und leise Gitarrenloops setzt und an die Driftworks von Roger Eno erinnert. Seltsamerweise entwickelt sich die unverwechselbare Form und Stimmung des Albums zumindest teilweise aus einer Änderung der Instrumentierung, bei der Hills einen MIDI-Tonabnehmer an seiner Gitarre verwendet. „Dies führte dazu, dass die Dinge viel schneller abliefen“, sagt Fox. „Es hat auch dazu beigetragen, einigen der Songs ein etwas düstereres, dunkleres Gefühl zu verleihen.“ An anderer Stelle, bei Songs wie „Salt“, spielt das Klavier mit Gitarrenfetzen, einzelne Töne werden ausgesandt, um sich mit den Sternen zu vermischen, wie Morricone bei 16 U/min, während Cornereds Herzstück, das elfminütige „No Appetite“, lange Bögen schlägt, elektronische Texturen atmet und seufzt, um sich in einem Katzenkörbchen der Glückseligkeit zu verheddern. Während des Hörens fühlt es sich an, als ob die Musik blüht, als würde man sich Zeitrafferaufnahmen von blühenden Pflanzen ansehen. Aber das Verführerischste an Cornered ist vielleicht das Gefühl, das man beim Zuhören bekommt, dass die Musik etwas Unerwartetes war, eine Heimsuchung. „Es fühlte sich fast so an, als hätten WIR nicht diktiert, wohin die Musik geht und wie sie klingt“, stimmt Fox zu. „Wir waren just im Dezember zusammen in einem Raum, als diese Geräusche passierten, und wir hatten das Glück, dass die Aufnahme mitlief.”

Avid Habibi Funk listeners may be familiar with Libyan composer / producer Najib Alhoush, who’s track “Ya Aen Daly” - the Bee Gee’s “Stayin Alive” cover - was included in our second compilation. While the original track never excited us, Najib’s version managed to strip it from its pop approach that had taken over disco during the genre`s peak. At that time, disco tracks mostly were aiming to appeal to the widest audience possible. Najib had turned the original track into something different and very unique. Upon further research we found that Najib was actually the singer and founder of The Free Music band alongside Fakhreddin, Salim Jibreel, Abdulrazzak ‘Kit-Kat’, Mukhtar Wanis and Mohameed Al Rakibi.
Initially, we only licensed Najib Alhoush’s “Ya Aen Daly” from Yousef Alhoush, Najib’s son, who was pleased to hear that there was interest in his father’s music form someone abroad. In the process of exchanging and learning about Najib’s music and career, our understanding was that The Free Music only recorded the one album. This couldn’t be further from the truth, in fact, there were ten albums produced by the group, all impressively coherent with a clear influence from disco, soul, funk and reggae.
The Free Music album was probably the longest it ever took us to gather information, photos and musical source material in a good enough quality to be reissued. This is largely due to the complicated political situation in Libya, compounded by the fact that Libya is still largely cut off from international payment systems, so getting an advance payment to the right person can be a process that takes weeks. The same goes for getting master tapes to a studio abroad and afterwards back to Libya.
When we look for music that works under the umbrella of Habibi Funk, we often come across albums where bands experimented with influences from Soul, Jazz, Funk, Disco and more, usually on a single track or two but then they often go down to a different path for the rest of the album. This was not the case for The Free Music. All their albums are fully dedicated to their unique blend of Disco, Reggae and Funk and it feels that when we made the selection for this album, we could have chosen a completely different number of tracks and the album would be been equally strong.
The lead-off single is the stupendously groovy “Ana Qalbi Ehtar” out February 3rd along with LP pre-order to capitalize on Bandcamp Friday. From the outset, the rhythmic strumming of the funkified guitars give way to the galloping drums and bass, opening up to anthemic vocals and rounding out with a blistering guitar solo, a certified disco-funk classic through-andthrough.
Second single, out February 17th is the disco slammer “Hawelt Nensa Ghalaak.” Guitars, harmonized horns, synths and bouncing bass and drums collide w/ spaced out vox to make the track a dancefloor sureshot for any party.
Third single is “Mathasebnish,” out March 3rd, a pure disco-funk slammer if there ever was one – with stabbing horns, funky bass riffs, a riding rhythm guitar and anthemic vocals, rounded out with stunning flute and guitar solos – the track will surely be on repeat along with the arrival of warmer weather.
Album focus track “Men Awel Marra” is another standout disco-infused tune, showcasing the immense creativity out of Najib and The Free Music. This past summer we finally had the opportunity to get together with Yousef face-to-face at a coffee shop in Istanbul’s central Istiklal road together with our friend Anas El Horani. Yousef told us the whole story of how his father got into music, the start of the band and his father’s continued conflicts with the Gaddafi regime that probably kept his career from becoming even bigger. As always, both vinyl and CD come with an extensive booklet featuring background on The Free Music and Najib Alhoush, including words from Najib’s son, Yousef, as well as unseen photos, cassettes and more.

For a quarter of an hour, Zürich was the navel of the world. Let's look back: at New York's CBGB's, pre-punks were shredding away, Malcolm McLaren, as a man with a fine-tuned taste for the hip, imported the sound to London, where his sweetheart Vivienne Westwood dressed the test-tube band The Sex Pistols. A few pop magazines later (we are in an analog world!) punk bands sprouted everywhere, like shiny pimples on poorly fed teenagers. Contrary to legend, even back then, it was often those with a musical background who were the most successful. One such example, Henrich "Wüste" Zwahlen, who had learned the violin, attended a jazz school and went into prog-rock before joining the Nasal Boys, one of the first punk bands in Zürich. The scene included the female band Kleenex (cover: Fischli of art heroes Fischli/Weiss), whose minimalism was praised by the London music press, while the world's most important rock theorist, Greil Marcus, wrote an ode highlighting Zürich's role as the birthplace of Dadaism. A fertile ground for the militant youth movement that exploded in 1980 and stirred up the city of banks, protestantism and boredom with raw wit and expressive violence. Gathering at concerts of local bands and fueled by endogenous and artificial substances - they paid homage to exuberance and self-indulgence.
The mantra of "everything-is-possible" was driven forward on the musical front by progress in terms of means of production: analog electronic instruments were no longer reserved for hippie nerds, who sat in front of large plug-in boards like autistic-psychedelic switchboard operators connecting cables for their sound carpets. Now snazzy stage personnel elicited fast-paced sounds from handy devices often made in Japan. Kraftwerk was fashionable, the Zurich duo Yello experimented with new synthetic sounds, and the groundbreaking album "Alles Ist Gut" by the Düsseldorf based duo D.A.F. (Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft) was released, which chanted its program of provocation times danceability with lines such as "Tanz den Jesus Christus, tanz the Mussolini, tanz the Adolf Hitler." In England meanwhile, electronically backed New Romantic bands were replacing New Wave. The Human League, Heaven 17, Duran Duran, OMD, Depeche Mode or Visage stormed the charts.
In Zürich's underground, the duo Aboriginal Voices caused a stir at that time. A couple, good-looking, styled, looking cool into the cold neon light, with a danceable beat and sequenced electro sounds, to which Micheline gave a very unique touch when she sang in French and English. Micheline had a classical piano education, had left home early, worked as a lighting technician in a strip joint and at Booster, the hottest boutique in town (one of the relicts that still exists). Voilà: a musician who was as stylish as she was tough. She was already playing with Wüste in the band "Doobie Doos", a band where everyone played an instrument they didn't master. In 1980 the Aboriginal Voices were formed, initially with vocalist Magda Vogel (of later UnknownmiX fame), who was trained as a classical singer.

Frustrated by organizational friction and constant hassles with band lineups, Wüste and Misch decided to do everything as a twosome: self-mixed, self-styled, self-produced. With the top-of-the-line Linn drum machine clocking the beat, Wüste's guitar and Micheline on the Yamaha synthesizer created a unique sound of danceable electronic music. Whereby the Aboriginal Voices acted as a kind of proto-influencer, receiving the latest equipment to try out, especially since they made it a point not to work with tapes, but to design everything for live shows. They had an interface built for the legendary Roland MC-4B, who sequenced the modular Roland System 100M but where one output controlled a light show synchronized with the sound. A pioneering act that fit well into the DIY spirit of punk, with its self-distributed tapes and fuck-you attitude towards the cretins of the music industry. Consequently only two cassettes and an EP were released. There was something futuristic about the sound, the vestiary style and the electronics, while the attitude remained rebellious. Of course something so deeped in the Zeitgeist wasn't meant to last. Wüste moved to New York, Micheline stayed in Zurich, both still active in the music scene to this day.

Sven Regener, head of the band Element of Crime and one of Germany's most successful pop writer said a few years ago when asked if he knew of any Swiss music: "Of course! In 1983, a Swiss band called Aboriginal Voices played with us at a festival in Zurich. Great, avant-garde electro-pop. That was my first encounter."

If you ever saw them live, you never forgot them, and so over the years you belonged to a teeny-tiny circle of insiders, happy to be joined after all these years by new aficionados who appreciate the sound of that quarter-hour, when Zurich was ravishing, creative and exciting.

- Thomas Haemmerli

Thaniil Alexandros can’t imagine a life without producing. Under the name of RBCHMBRS, Thaniil has been tinkering with sample based productions for 17 years. In one form or another, RBCHMBRS has mashed inspirations of hip hop instrumentals with the funky, snappy bounce of UKG.

Being half Greek and half Dominican means that Thaniil’s first memories of music were of classic Greek music and his mother’s love of dance and disco. Growing up on the Bronx meant that he was exposed to a mix of genres his entire life. From boomboxes on the street or from the windows of his neighbors home, gave Alexandros exposure to sounds he hadn't heard.

Toe the Line EP was intended to return to stripped down elements of older releases, but something “a little less outer space, a return to earth.” Armed with an SP-404, RBCHMBRS wants to be playful without being reminiscent, always trying to move forward. He believes that nostalgic pain can propel an artist to make their best work.

While noting history teachers as salient inspirations that opened his eyes to cultures unknown to him, as well as a father who is a history buff of his own, Thaniil has inherited some of their reverence for the classics and the importance of learning from the past. Alexandros’ fundamentals are influenced by Madlib, Timbaland (“the early stuff,” he interjects), Q Tip, Havoc, Alchemist, UKG, as well as the culture that surrounded the NBA in the 90s, during his most formative years.

Keeping it in the family, RBCHMBRS works closely with critically acclaimed emcee/producer THERAVADA, who co-produced Sick by Earl Sweatshirt with him, and who is his cousin. Currently, RBCHMBRS is working on a self-proclaimed “sprawling dance album” with Tesh Curry. His audience has a lot to look forward to.

With his Estrella EP, his intention was expressed through the imagined feeling of a time warp, a portal, and maybe coming out the other end of it. He wanted Toe The Line EP to feel more grounded, a down to earth project that he leaned towards as he searched for his life to settle. This EP reminds him that many things in his life have changed for the better, and a lot of that has to do with the structure hes begun to install.

Bass Drum of Death’s new album Say I Won’t is the end result of a journey that took singer and bandleader John Barrett from a small town in Mississippi and sent him across the world and back home again. The music still rips, with blown-out guitars and drums that sound like bombs going off, and the melodies are catchier than ever, hollered in Barrett’s trademark yelp. But the music hits differently now, more at peace with itself, propelled by a new swagger. Say I Won’t is the record of a veteran band finding its stride and leaning into it, stripping back the excess and finding the raw core of their sound. Say I Won’t, the band’s fifth record, comes at a time of massive change for Barrett, having relocated from New York to his hometown of Oxford, Mississippi during the pandemic. The record is also a homecoming of a different sort, with the band rejoining the ranks of Fat Possum, also in Oxford, the label that released their first record GB City in 2011.

In hugo, there’s a central question that Loyle Carner keeps coming back to: “I’m young, Black, successful and have a platform - but where do I go next?” The answer is explored in this epic scream of a third album. With urgent delivery and gloriously widescreen production, Carner confronts both the deeply personal (“You can’t hate the roots of a tree, and not hate the tree. So how can I hate my father without hating me?) and the highly political (“I told the black man he didn’t understand I reached the white man he wouldn’t take my hand”). Cinematic in scale and scope, hugo is both a rallying war cry for a generation forged in fire and a study of the personal internal conflict that drives the rest of the album - as a mixed-race Black man, as an artist, as a father and as a son. With Mercury and Brits nominations, NME Awards and appearances in global brand campaigns (Nike, YSL, Timberland), Carner has undoubtedly had a meteoric rise to the top, culminating with his second album Not Waving, But Drowning charting at number 3 in the UK albums chart in 2019. However, hugo sees Carner taking a sharp detour from his previous work, putting it down to lockdown and the “hedonistic side of career being stripped away. There were no shows, no backstage, no festivals, no photoshoots”. By continuing to write in these tumultuous times with a renewed clarity and sense of artistic freedom, Carner reached deeper beneath the surface than he ever had before. The result is his most cathartic and ambitious record yet, a coruscating journey into the heart of what it means to be alive in these tumultuous times, and one which looks set to neatly cement his position as one of the most potent and vital young talents around today. Working alongside renowned producer kwes. (Solange, Kelela, Nao), Carner leaves no stone unturned on this album, in both its sound and its stories. In a 10-track album that moves from gorgeous neo-soul moments to thundering hip hop, with immediate, infectious bangers and sampled interludes from non musicians (mixed-race Guyanese poet John Agard and youth activist and politician Athian Akec) Carner shifts seamlessly from micro to macro, confronting everything from strained relationships with family to the societal tears caused by class stratification. It also lays bare bruises in his personal life that he has never revealed before – often in painful, deeply uncomfortable ways, focusing on Carner's experience of becoming a father in the context of growing up without contact with his biological father. With the song “Polyfilla”, against the backdrop of a warm melodic beat, Carner explores his desire to “break the chains in the cycle” of dysfunctional Black fatherhood, commenting on the narrative of fatherhood in the genre, and saying a key part of the process was realising that his father “grew up in a world where nobody showed him how to love or nurture”. The follow up track “A Lasting Place” is an exploration of the MC’s failure and inability to be perfect in this mission. The album closer is a powerful statement of love and forgiveness; with his signature lyrical dexterity, Carner declares his relentless commitment to his son and sees forgiving his father as a key part of this. The song closes with an emotional ending of Carner telling his dad “still I’m lucky yo that we talk”. There’s a striking duality of hugo’s bold, multilayered tracks and its often starkly intimate and tender lyricism, and that dichotomy is deliberate - it is a message for young Black men, but really, anyone, who is listening. Cognizant of the immense pain and fear and confusion that we are faced with everyday, Carner has thrown down the gauntlet, defying us not to rise above the fray, wake up each day and be ambitious. Ambitious in building strong personal relationships. Ambitious in our pursuit of our goals. Ambitious in never refusing to back down against injustice. Rejecting the title of leader, Loyle Carner sees himself “as holding up a mirror”, and that clearly translates into the album's universal messages.