The Liber series was always about the dancefloor. Dark rooms, loud systems, repetition, pressure and the point where the machinery takes over. Liber Eleven continues that idea. The tracks have been remastered and are now available again on CD, vinyl and download.
This is The Black Dog in full techno mode. Hypnotic, physical and built for big systems, with enough strange corners to keep things interesting when the lights go down.
The Liber series started with Liber Kult, Liber Temple and Liber Nox, followed by Liber Dogma and Liber Chaos. Eleven picks up that thread and carries it forward.
No nostalgia trip. No archive dusting for the sake of it. Just The Black Dog making techno...
For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.
On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.
Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”
This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.
With NIGHTS AFTER VAMP, Magnolia Park have spun an electrifying mix of hard rock, punk, nu-metal, hip-hop and metalcore into a dizzying, multisensory experience. Throughout its 17 songs, the record soundtracks an ominous journey through the fictional world of Nocturne Nexus; where rulers and rebels battle with the future hanging in the balance. Heavily inspired by the band's love of anime, horror and fantasy, the album's narrative was spurred by the long-running Vampire Hunter D, iconic works like Star Wars, Dracula and Joseph Campbell's legendary monomyth. Produced by the band's in-house producers alongside Andrew Wade (A Day To Remember, Wage War), Hiram Hernandez (blessthefall) and Andy Karpovck (408, Taylor Acorn) and mixed by Zakk Cervini (Bad Omens, Bring Me The Horizon) - Magnolia Park soundtrack this dramatic tale of crimson blood and chrome-plated courage through their own mix of man and machine, stacking whirring electronics and industrial undertones alongside sledgehammer breakdowns, walls of detuned guitars and Roberts' seam-splitting vocals.
Third time’s a charm, or possibly an anomaly. Johannes Volk returns to Running Back for another five exercises in perception, memory and dance-floor physics.
Following Extra Dimensions and Lightweave, this third instalment finds Volk continuing his particular way of making machine music feel strangely human and vice versa.
Shining Force starts somewhere above ground. Gliding across an unfamiliar planetary surface, optical illusions and physical anomalies slowly interfere with the senses. Unknown landscapes,
peculiar vegetation, nature behaving unnaturally: techno as field research. Switching From Bicycle to Spaceship does exactly what it says on the tin, more or less: trading pedal power for propulsion as a deceptively simple groove gathers speed, sheds gravity and quietly leaves the atmosphere behind.
Hidden In Dark belongs to a more immediate kind of archaeology: fog, strobes, bodies and those inexplicably intense emotions that only seem to exist on a dance floor at the right (or wrong) hour.
Back Alley Dancers turns the telescope around and looks backwards. Vocal fragments, pitched, delayed, reversed and removed from their original meaning trigger half-memories of youth, and of
encountering music and culture before you quite understood what any of it meant. Familiar feelings in unfamiliar shapes.
Finally, Drumatury dispenses with introspection and gets down to elementary forces. Morphing bass drums meet a Chicago jacking snare-roll massacre. Drama becomes drumaturgy. Or the other way around.
Five tracks, several states of consciousness, one Johannes Volk. No protective equipment supplied.
Nach Roy Orbisons unerwartetem Tod kurz nach ihrem Debüt machten die Wilburys als Quartett (George
Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Tom Petty und Bob Dylan) weiter und veröffentlichten ihr zweites Album mit dem
humorvollen Titel *The Traveling Wilburys, Vol. 3*, das die Singles „Inside Out“, „She’s My Baby“ und
„Wilbury Twist“ enthielt.
Mit gerade einmal 19 Jahren hat sich die irische Gitarristin und Sängerin Muireann Bradley als außergewöhnliche Blues-Interpretin einen Namen gemacht. TV-Auftritte bei Jools Holland u.a., sowie ausverkaufte
Konzerte dies- und jenseits des Atlantiks sowie Festivalshows in einem Umfeld, zu dem auch Neil Young,
Lana Del Rey und Beck gehörten, machten sie bekannt.
Wer Muireann Bradley spielen hört, dürfte kaum vermuten, dass die Musikerin aus dem irischen County
Donegal erst 19 Jahre alt ist. Zu selbstverständlich klingt ihr Fingerpicking, zu tief scheint sie in jene
musikalische Welt eingetaucht zu sein, die von Blind Blake und Mississippi John Hurt über frühen Bob
Dylan bis zur irischen Folk-Tradition reicht.
Jetzt geht sie einen entscheidenden Schritt weiter und rückt eigene, unter die Haut gehende Songs ins
Zentrum. Ihr Album „Rose Dogs & Blackwood Pew“ verbindet die fünf Stücke der 2025 nur digital
erschienenen EP „Rose Dogs“ mit den sechs Titeln der neuen EP „Blackwood Pew“.
Eric Whitacre verbindet William Blakes Poesie mit Stimmen, Synthesizern, Streichern und Klavier.
Mit *Eternity in an Hour* präsentiert der Grammy-prämierte Komponist ein neues, rund 60-minütiges
Werk. Inspiriert wurde es von William Blakes Gedicht *Auguries of Innocence* und dessen berühmter
Anfangszeile „To see a world in a grain of sand“. Das Album markiert zugleich den Beginn einer erneuerten
Zusammenarbeit mit Decca Classics.
Whitacre dirigiert seine Eric Whitacre Singers sowie Streicher und verbindet ihren Klang mit elektronischen Texturen, Synthesizern und Klavier. Das Werk wurde 2024 bei den BBC Proms uraufgeführt.
Ausgangspunkt der Komposition ist die Granularsynthese: Für jeden Satz werden kleinste Ausschnitte aus
Blakes Versen herausgelöst und musikalisch neu zusammengesetzt.
Zum Einsatz kommen unter anderem ein Lyra-8-Synthesizer, ein Tascam-424-Tonbandgerät und der 125
Jahre alte Flügel von Whitacres Großmutter, dessen Klang ihn seit seiner Kindheit begleitet.
Die digitale Ausgabe und die CD ergänzen das Werk um *Auguries of Innocence*, eine Sammlung atmosphärischer Neubearbeitungen mit IDRA, Jess Gillam und Elin Piel.
Ein facettenreiches Album, das Whitacres musikalische Entwicklung in konzentrierter Form hörbar macht.
Celebrating 50 years of dancing, Amnesia represents the heart and soul of electronic music in Ibiza. Telling a story that spans five decades, the 50th anniversary vinyl/CD compilation is a window into a legendary venue that has helped establish some of the world's biggest tracks.
From the iconic piano riff of Eric Prydz' 'Pjanoo' to the laid-back groove of 'Benediction' by Hot Natured. A club that spans eras and genres - the disco of Chic's 'Good Times', the synth-pop of New Order's 'Blue Monday', or the gritty electro of Alter Ego's 'Rocker'.
The soundtracks of 50 summers are represented across 50 tracks spanning 10 vinyl/5 CDs. A hand-picked selection that reflects the incredible breadth of Amnesia's cultural influence, featuring music from Calvin Harris, Donna Summer, Paul van Dyk, Candi Staton, Fred Again.., Robert Miles, Laurent Garnier, Binary Finary, and many more.
Der legendäre Dance-Klassiker „Bla Bla Bla“ von Gigi D‘Agostino erscheint jetzt als hochwertige 12“ Picture Vinyl – ein echtes Highlight für Sammler und Fans elektronischer Musik.
Diese exklusive Edition vereint insgesamt fünf verschiedene Versionen des weltbekannten Club-Hits, der mit seinem unverwechselbaren Sound und Kultstatus bis heute die Tanzflächen begeistert. Das aufwendig gestaltete
Picture Vinyl macht diese Veröffentlichung nicht nur zu einem musikalischen, sondern auch zu einem optischen Sammlerstück.
Ob als Erinnerung an die goldene Zeit der Dance-Musik oder als besondere Ergänzung jeder Vinyl-Sammlung – „Bla Bla Bla“ auf 12“ Picture Vinyl ist ein Muss für alle Fans von Gigi D‘Agostino und zeitlosen Club-Klassikern
The songs of Jules de Corte are condensed, folky gems with an almost effortless charm. Poised between the intimate and the universal, between lightness and darkness, they touch on religion, love, loss, and the small dramas of everyday life. Yet they resist easy translation. Packed with wordplay, de Corte’s signature alliterations, humor, and local cultural references, the songs inevitably lose something in another language. Still, when a Belgian quartet of improvisers takes them on, joined by American songwriter Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, the songs are reborn rather than merely transposed: literal fidelity gives way to interpretation, and what is lost in words is often gained in spirit.
Even without tracing every change, their overall effect is fascinating. Songs are slowed down, often doubled in length, and filled with unexpected musical intrusions. They gain fuller arrangements and are placed in an entirely new context. Replacing de Corte’s piano with guitar can create a radically different vibe, as in “Mariska.” An added solo can heighten the contrast between childlike perspective and the almost matter- of-fact brutality of “Little Anita.” In “The Stranger,” another use of contrast unsettles the everyday harmony, transforming it with a subtle, disorienting twist.
Ultimately, these performances show that interpretation is not successful simply because it is literal. With the groundwork laid by Linus, Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy further liberated the songs from their original versions. Lyrics and melodies become malleable, shaped by his recognizable cadences, timbre, and personal quirks. Like his collaborators, he allows himself the freedom to bend the material to his own approach. There is no radical break between this performance and his other records. Listeners familiar with the originals may be puzzled at first; for those new to de Corte, it is a wholly different experience.
Does it really matter that the original “Little Jesus, Mighty God” is a 100-second nugget combining playful naivete with biblical fervor? In the hands of these five explorers, the song becomes an intriguing contemplation, with subtle musical shades and a recitation in which every syllable carries a maturity that offers a new perspective. Then there is “The Outsider,” which feels as genuine as any original American folk song. The musicians’ process is more than reinterpretation—it is reimagination, bringing new musical compatibility and emotional depth. Whether that depth was there from the start, waiting to be uncovered, or created in the process is beside the point. What matters is that Linus and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy have made the essence of these songs their own, paying homage yet dancing to their own tune.
Linus is the Belgian duo of guitarist and banjo player Ruben Machtelinckx and reedist and synthesiser player Thomas Jillings. Across five previous albums — Onland (2014), Linus + Skarbø / Leroux (2015), Felt Like Old language at the crossroads of folk, jazz, minimalism, chamber music and free improvisation. Their music is adventurous, shaped by a particular sensitivity to texture, timbre and the subtle interaction between musicians.
What began as a duo gradually grew into a flexible musical world, bringing Linus together with musicians such as Nils Økland, Ingar Zach, Niels Van Heertum, Øyvind Skarbø and Frederik Leroux. Yet each new constellation has remained recognisably Linus: music in which carefully considered forms leave space for intuition, interaction and the unexpected.
For their sixth album, Linus takes a new step by moving into the world of song and text. Inspired by a shared love for the late Dutch songwriter Jules De Corte, the album is a reimagining of De Corte’s unique repertoire. More than simply interpreting De Corte’s songs, they absorb and reshape them, bringing them into dialogue with their own musical language. In keeping with this open approach, they are joined by celebrated vocalist Bonnie “Prince” Billy. With albums such as 1999’s I See a Darkness appearing on several greatest album lists, Bonnie “Prince” Billy is a cult figure in the alternative folk scene, and his highly intuitive way of singing seamlessly matches the subtle interplay Linus has developed over more than a decade.
At the foot of the mountain. Our gaze is inclined toward the summit.
Toward the ascent. The destination that awaits us.
From the valley, we look up at the summit: our destination. But also the path: the true destination.
We can already trace our route, and we are already imagining ourselves walking up there. Along the small ridge, just above the tree line. There, we take a short break and look for the exact spot in the valley where we were standing earlier. It is strange to grasp that we have actually climbed this mountain. To look down from up here at the place where we were just moments ago – the same place we looked up from, toward the place where we are standing now.
And now, knowing what it is like to be up here, we remember what we imagined it would be like back then. What we believed it would mean to stand here.
Along the way, our gaze wanders back and forth. Up toward the mountain, down into the valley, sometimes only at our shoes. We keep walking, one step after another. Our thoughts detached. Our body functioning purely mechanically.
Step left. Step right. Step left. Step right.
Our mind has completely detached itself, and our thoughts race at an immense speed. They summon the most different moments. Moments from our lives. Moments that shaped us, that made us who we are. Or are we perhaps simply trying to understand who we are and how we got here?
It is strange that reaching the summit and looking down could make us believe that we have finally reached, or are striving toward, some superior, triumphant position. When in fact, it is really only about looking at the path we inevitably have to take. Processing impressions from a certain distance. Reconsidering what we have experienced, without losing sight of what lies ahead.
Our gaze turns back toward the summit.
Is there a destination?
An ascent? A summit? A descent? The return?
Or is it only about the insights we encounter along the way?
Am Fuß des Berges. Unser Blick ist zum Gipfel geneigt.
Auf den Aufstieg. Das Ziel, das uns erwartet.
Vom Tal aus blicken wir auf den Gipfel: unser Ziel. Aber auch den Weg: das wahre Ziel. Unsere Route kann man jetzt schon abstecken, und wir stellen uns bereits vor, wie wir dort oben laufen. Über den kleinen Grat, leicht oberhalb der Baumgrenze. Dort machen wir eine kleine Pause und suchen genau die Stelle im Tal, an der wir vorhin noch standen. Es ist verrückt, zu begreifen, dass wir diesen Berg tatsächlich hinaufgestiegen sind. Von hier oben auf den Ort hinunterzusehen, an dem wir eben noch waren – an denselben Ort, zu dem wir hinaufgeblickt haben, als wir noch dort unten standen. Und jetzt, da wir wissen, wie es ist, hier oben zu sein, erinnern wir uns daran, was wir uns damals darunter vorgestellt haben. Was wir geglaubt haben, es würde bedeuten, hier zu stehen.
Unterwegs wandert unser Blick hin und her. Hinauf zum Berg, hinunter ins Tal, manchmal nur auf unsere Schuhe. Wir gehen weiter, einen Schritt nach dem anderen. Unsere Gedanken losgelöst. Unser Körper funktioniert rein mechanisch. Schritt links. Schritt rechts. Schritt links. Schritt rechts.
Unser Geist hat sich völlig losgelöst, und unsere Gedanken rasen mit einer ungeheuren Geschwindigkeit. Sie rufen die verschiedensten Momente herauf. Momente aus unserem Leben. Momente, die uns geprägt haben, aus denen wir geworden sind, wer wir sind. Oder versuchen wir vielleicht einfach nur zu verstehen, wer wir sind und wie wir hierhergekommen sind?
Es ist schon seltsam, dass das Erreichen des Gipfels und der Blick nach unten uns glauben lassen könnten, dass wir endlich eine überragende, triumphale Position erreicht haben oder anstreben würden. Dabei geht es doch eigentlich nur um den Blick auf den Weg, den wir zwangsläufig beschreiten müssen. Eindrücke mit etwas Abstand zu verarbeiten. Erlebtes noch einmal Revue passieren zu lassen, ohne den Blick nach vorne zu verlieren.
Unser Blick wendet sich wieder dem Gipfel zu. Gibt es ein Ziel? Einen Aufstieg? Einen Gipfel? Einen Abstieg? Die Rückkehr? Oder geht es nur um die Erkenntnisse, die uns unterwegs begegnen?
Carlos Benedetti, a Colombian house producer and live performer from Cali, has steadily become one of the standout names in today’s underground dance scene. Following multiple vinyl releases on the acclaimed German label Disco Disco, Benedetti’s productions have earned widespread praise and support from respected figures including deep house icon Cinthie.
Specialists, selectors and collectors alike have described his records with comments such as:
“fabulous 12-inch”
“This is the most wild dance record to come out this year so far”
“Cannot formulate the words to capture how this one sounds and makes me feel”
“Listen close and behold.”
With this latest EP for SUPREME STRIKER, Benedetti once again delivers a collection that feels destined to become a future underground classic.
The record opens with Nostalgia Blues, a soulful and deeply textured piece channeling the spirit of Larry Levan’s legendary dancefloor energy, somewhere between disco’s emotional golden age and modern club functionality.
On Bellavista, Benedetti dives deeper into high-energy territory, layering powerful black grooves, hypnotic rhythmic tension and rich percussive movement into something both vibrant and timeless.
Pyramid follows with soaring arpeggios and delicate melodic flourishes, recalling the euphoric sophistication of Todd Terje at his most inspired, while maintaining Benedetti’s raw dancefloor sensibility.
Closing track How High The Moon nods toward Patrick Cowley’s pioneering synth work, injecting the EP with cosmic disco pressure, futuristic funk textures and a strange late-night sensuality.
More than a simple collection of tracks, the EP unfolds as a fully coherent journey through house, disco, Italo and high-energy mutations, balancing emotional depth, machine-driven grooves and timeless dancefloor instinct with remarkable naturality.
Chopping Mountain, das neue Album von Ibibio Sound Machine, ist die bislang deutlichste Umsetzung der langjährigen Mission des Londoner Kollektivs, Liebe, Einheit und Widerstand durch Musik zu fördern. Es ist das sechste Album der Band in voller Länge und das erste, bei dem Max Grunhard seit ,Doko Mien" aus dem Jahr 2019 als Produzent mitwirkt. Nach ihrem von Hot Chip produzierten Durchbruch ,Electricity" (2022) und dem düstereren, clubbigen Einschlag des von Ross Orton produzierten ,Pull the Rope" (2024) fühlt sich ,Chopping Mountain" an, als stamme es direkt aus den Herzen und Erfahrungen der von Eno Williams und Grunhard angeführten Band. Williams ist wie immer eine Sirene - eine Frontfrau, wie sie nur einmal in einer Generation vorkommt, deren Ruf, sowohl auf die Tanzfläche als auch nach einer besseren Zukunft, unmöglich zu widerstehen ist. Wie sie das macht, ist ein Rätsel. Nimm zum Beispiel einen Song wie ,Return to Sender". Inspiriert von einem Autounfall, bei dem sie spürte, wie ihr das Lenkrad buchstäblich aus den Händen sprang - was sie mit ,einem spirituellen Angriff durch unsichtbare Kräfte" verglich -, ist der Track ein kraftvoller, kathartischer Rager, ein Ganzkörper-Workout und eine lautstarke Ablehnung des Bösen in mehreren Sprachen, Englisch und ihrer Muttersprache Ibibio. Sie ist natürlich kaum allein am Fuße des ,Chopping Mountain". Ibibio Sound Machine - Grunhard (Saxophon, Keyboards), Alfred Bannerman (Gitarre), PK Ambrose (Bass, Keyboards), Joseph Amoako (Schlagzeug), Afla Sackey (Percussion), Scott Baylis (Trompete, Keyboards) und Tony Hayden (Posaune, Synth) - sind übernatürlich eingespielt und schöpfen aus ihren Wurzeln und Inspirationen in Highlife, Disco, Afrobeat, Funk, Post-Punk und Electropop, um um ihre Stimme herum gewaltige Klangkathedralen zu errichten. Vor dem Hintergrund einer entmutigenden Welt bleiben Ibibio Sound Machine hoffnungsvoll, auf der Suche nach Bewusstsein und Verbundenheit. Sie setzen den Weg fort, den sie erstmals auf ,Pull the Rope" eingeschlagen haben: Viele Songs auf ,Chopping Mountain" entstanden aus Jam-Sessions, bei denen sie sich auf einen Groove, ein Instrument oder einen Text konzentrierten. Auf ,Concept of Love" formen sie einen Afro-Disco-Song, auf ,Love" vertiefen sie das Konzept und liefern ein ätherisches Stück Highlife. Bei ,Give Me Peace" ist sogar Dele Sosimi von Fela Kutis Egypt 80 zu hören. Diese berauschende Mischung aus unterschiedlichen Stilen und Herkunftsorten verschmilzt über das gesamte ,Chopping Mountain", wobei die Songs darin vereint sind, dass sie die schärfsten Werkzeuge sind, die Ibibio Sound Machine im gegenwärtigen Moment einsetzen können. Sie stellen den Kampf um Freiheit als einen gemeinschaftlichen dar. Der Weg zur Befreiung ist lang und beschwerlich, aber er ist nicht ohne Freude - hier ist ein Album, das vor ihr nur so strotzt.
For its second outing, Sonum invites Matteo Point, whose Acid People EP expands the label's catalogue with four cuts navigating the space between acid house, progressive textures and analogue-driven club music.
The title track, "Acid People," sets the tone with tightly wound 303 sequences, sparse drums and a hypnotic sense of momentum, landing somewhere between functional peak-time tool and late-night trip. "Fresh Morgen" follows with a rolling low end before gradually unfolding into darker, more melodic territory, recalling the subtle tension of late-'90s European underground records.
On the B-side, "Musika Progressiva" revisits progressive house without falling into nostalgia, reshaping familiar motifs through a contemporary lens while maintaining its analogue warmth. Closing cut "Vvvaneggg" shifts towards Detroit-inspired rhythms and understated machine funk, offering a stripped-back groove built for patient selectors.
Across four tracks, Matteo Point delivers a collection that feels both immediate and enduring—club-focused without sacrificing character. With Acid People EP, Sonum continues to carve out its own space, championing records that draw equally from the past and the future of underground dance music.
Nu Vision is a modern salon for visionary leaders, fighting for their art, standing by truths, defending voices, honoring progenitors, whilst pushing forwards towards a new paradigm. The band all have their own stories and extensive discographies, records released on labels you might know, gigs played in places you might have attended but none of that matters. This is a new beginning. A group. A collective.A movement. Nu Vision is a band in the classic do-you-believe-in-alchemy sense. Equal parts rhythm, damage, and deep feeling. Their friends at DFA noted that the album “sounds like Depeche Mode scoring a Michael Mann montage: brooding,motorik, and shot through with black-and-blue beauty.” this idea is taken further in the first video from the album for track one / side one “Time” that launches the project publically along with the albums announcement. The palette of ‘The Seed’ is defined and refined in the best way. It’s an album that opens up many pathways. Brisker, freakier tracks like “Shadow In The Dark,” “R U Serious?” and “Humanity” run towards a softer finish with “Somedays” and the seven-minute, eyeliner-smearing closing ballad, “Lullaby Garden.” These are proper songs made with vintage machines, with a sound that carries obvious influences. ’ The Seed’ pulses forward as the body of the beast is turned inside out, wearing a beating heart on its sleeve, honoring those who left us too soon - DAF’s Gabi Delgado, Nitzer Ebb’s Douglas McCarthy, Depeche Mode’s Andrew Fletcher, and Sandwell District’s Juan Mendez. It’s important to note the emotional core of ‘The Seed’ album is the song ‘Synchronicity’ that is filled with both love and regret, the story of losing a friend without properly making amends. It is unquestionably heartbreaking, but is also delivered with a pang of hope, the feeling that with so many sunrises caught, so many additions and subtractions in life, a perspective has been gained. This is no freshman effort; but rather, a masterclass in continuing sonic education, delivering a unified experience from beginning to end. A New Vision
Biz returns to his Subjekt label for it’s fourth instalment, continuing a long-standing connection with the deeper, more cerebral side of techno. With previous releases on Detroit institution Transmat, Laurent Garnier’s COD3QR, Xistence, We’re Going Deep, Acquit Records and other respected underground labels, the lineage is firmly established.
Here, Biz digs deep into the Detroit blueprint — machine rhythms, hypnotic sequences, melancholy, soul and futuristic tension — balancing introspection with raw dance floor vibes.
For the remix, Osaka techno veteran DJ Compufunk steps up with a stripped-back interpretation, locking into the groove and pushing the track further into raw machine funk territory.
Detroit spirit, Japanese precision and Australian underground techno vibes — another essential Biz release!
With MYSTERIUM COSMOGRAPHICUM, the ALIEN CODE series opens a new transmission within the Cosmic Tribe universe — a speculative exploration of ancient futurism, extraterrestrial civilizations, sci-fi architectures and hidden technologies through electro-oriented sound research.
Across six tracks, the compilation moves through atmospheric electro, cosmic electronics, galactic basslines and contemporary machine-driven structures, combining cinematic tension with underground functionality.
MYSTERIUM COSMOGRAPHICUM unfolds as an episodic interstellar narrative — where each track operates like a different scene, transmission or passage within the wider ALIEN CODE universe.
For this transmission, Cosmic Tribe brings together an international selection of artists exploring contemporary electro and futurist electronic sound, featuring Raakel Bloody Raakel, Lups Digga, Aztronouth & Machinefunk, EC13, Lloyd Stellar and NOAMM.
Visually and conceptually, ALIEN CODE continues Cosmic Tribe’s investigation into lost and unknown civilizations, symbolic technologies and non-human futurist aesthetics — where ancient structures and ultra-advanced systems coexist beyond historical time.
You know the pattern: someone calls their album "Balearic," and you immediately expect chill-out terraces, pan-flute samples, and the umpteenth return of the Café del Mar sunset. Devi G. refuses this reflex almost maliciously. The title is a trick—an invitation to disappointment for those hoping for postcard exoticism. What is actually being negotiated here is erosion, but that of the body itself: the abrasion one inflicts upon oneself in the excess of the night, when partying turns into wear and tear, and a rush becomes a graze that only becomes visible in the morning. No backdrop, then, but a wound one has voluntarily acquired.
Instead of the usual Ibiza xylophones, Devi G. digs into the rift between idyll and wear. The result reads like a séance—less José Padilla, more as if Kevin Martin had re-recorded a Manuel Göttsching record on a dying four-track deck. The target area lies somewhere between the waterlogged ambient sketches of Huerco S. and the faded dub-afterglow of Actress, but Devi G. remains consistently on his own, grainier frequency.
Balearic Abrasions (title track) opens without haste, demanding almost without impatience: no motif, no rhythmic handhold, just a slowly tilting balance between warm texture and rough surface. The grain never feels forced—it is not a lo-fi costume, but an integral part of the statics themselves. Where other ambient producers strive for perfection, Devi G. consciously seeks the breaking point. Rhythm remains a tool, never an ambition. Those expecting quick resolution will be disappointed; those willing to listen will receive a depth effect that is rarely this vivid.
Exit Through Thee Gift Shop tips into harder territory: dub-techno reduction meets industrial edge, carried by a stoic kick drum that knows no mercy. Metallic textures slice through the sub-bass, while repetitive chords hypnotize like a defective loop. Central to this is a rare Terence McKenna recording, which functions less as spoken-word ornamentation and more as a disruptive spirit between memory and media archaeology. The title—Banksy reference included—turns this into a biting punchline: radical electronic abstraction positioned against the hyper-commercialized art world.
Morning Depth pushes the claustrophobia further, somewhere between post-industrial and deep-sea dub. The track refuses any peak-time logic, preferring to disintegrate into itself, subcutaneously, methodically. At the end, a casual, almost banal vocal sample (“i defiantly prefer chocolate”) breaks into the cool machinery—a small, profane fissure that makes the coldness of the rest of the piece all the more apparent.
Desiré Algorithmic is the album's most calculated moment: a stoic, repetitive bassline as a foundation, topped with fragile melody fragments that flash like glitches in faulty code. The title reads like a promise from nightlife—a figure that suggests much and delivers nothing, because behind the façade there is simply nothing, only simulation. The track carries exactly this principle: promise without substance, desire without body, just rendering. Only in the final third does a melancholic saxophone break into the sterile structure—organic, imperfect, and for that very reason more credible than everything before it. It is the moment in which the real briefly flashes through the surface of the dummy before it closes again.
All-inclusive Residue concludes the album as sedimentation rather than dramaturgy: dub-techno remnants, industrial patina, salty ambient surfaces that settle rather than compose. The refusal of consumption as a sonic principle—brittle, stubborn, with a gravity that lingers long after.
Verdict: Balearic Abrasions is not easy listening with a sea view, but an exercise in patience and friction. The restraint with which Devi G. avoids climaxes will frustrate some—for everyone else, that is exactly where the record's strength lies. No sunset. Rather, what remains on the rocks afterward.
