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Violent sounds...

Savage Grounds released their first three records with Lux Rec... of which one of the members from this Swiss duo is the label boss... this new EP is the first release coming out elsewhere... Savage Grounds have created a sound of their own... a sort of post-techno which combines elements of techno, elektro, EBM, acid and industrial... but these tracks will for sure also appeal to lovers of analogue synth music... the whole EP sounds like it has been recorded in an one take synth jam... raw and fierce synth sounds for the body and soul...

Amsterdam's cult producer and DJ Steven van Hulle a.k.a. Awanto 3 likes his samples vibrant, his drums wobbly and his synths sweaty as a Detroit summer breeze. The MPC wizard returns to Dekmantel delivering his second, full-length album. Gargamel is arguably his most compelling piece of work. Spread over the course of nine tracks, van Hulle shows he's capable of serving up many different styles and genres in his ever-expanding arsenal.
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The Rednose Distrikt affiliate kicks things off with his friend and co-producer Darling. 'Azrael' builds over shuffling, infectious rhythms, a cluster of vocal stabs and heartfelt keys.
'This Is When We Met', 'Why Don't You' and 'Gargamelancholia' on the other hand, are aggressive, batty-jackin peak-time tracks embracing classic acid aesthetics, while 'Positive Negative' is a stretched-out house jam incorporating the tussle of wonky boogie and tribal bumps.

Van Hulle drops the tempo on 'Hooli Goose', taking slow release hypnosis turns while making a marching band sound cool. The dry drum machines, melted bass and schizo sounds of 'Ride The Dragon' will appeal to the freaks, and the dreamy 'Happy Bird' is a tripped-out set of ambient and lo-fi themes. Last but not least, Dexter enters the stage to do what he does best with 'Thick': showing who's boss of the 808 with a straight-up electro essential.

Phantom Forth were the brother sister team of Paul Luker (Guitar, Bass, Vocals), Debbie Luker (Drums, Guitar, Vocals) and Lorraine Steele (Keyboards, Percussion, Vocals). They formed in 1981 in Auckland, New Zealand. Paul began recording his own music after purchasing a 2-track from Oceania Sound. He formed a band with his flatmate and eventually met Lorraine through Debbie. With a shared love of Young Marble Giants and Cabaret Voltaire they started to rehearse at LAB Studio.

'The EEPP' was recorded in 1983 within a few weeks at Progressive Music Studios. Slated for release in February 1984, the mini-album finally appeared in November on Flying Nun Records. It contained seven moody sketches of Auckland. Their sound blends cold wave guitars, drum-machine propelled post-punk with female vocals. The core recording set up was a Casio-Tone VL, Boss DR-55 Dr. Rhythm, Roland TR-606 and an acoustic Yamaha bass. All original vinyl copies contained many clicks and pops and due to paper bits from previous jobs that pressing plant melted down. Included with this reissue are two early demos recorded at LAB in 1982, made prior to Lorraine joining the band, plus a recording from the Flying Nun live compilation 'The Last Rumba'.

All songs have been remastered from the original master tapes for vinyl by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The vinyl comes housed in sleeve with original artwork collage designed by Paul Lurker. Each LP includes a two-sided 8.5x11 poster with notes and photos.

Up and coming Belgium-born activist Philippe Petit, operator of the Knotweed and Decision Making Theory labels, returns to Figure SPC with a delightfully versatile four tracker. Spanning cold-wavesynth electronics, purist club techno and up-building melodic zones, its perhaps Petits strongest effort yet. Capturing a neo-classical, archaic mood in >Mist Solaris Negative Zone Suspended< closes the EP with a joyful, above the clouds journey, lifting up weightlessly into the ether.

Droid Behavior's Luis Flores comes through with a 2-track ace for the label's 20th vinyl release, Static Forces. Negative Pressure (A1) starts off with a brewing undercurrent of bass and hypnotically builds into a dizzied cavern of competing sonic forces and reverberant whispered utterances. Surface Tension (B1) takes an alluring shaken groove and reveals its drive as its elements make their way to the front, slowly pushing the track's rhythmic intensity. Two tracks for long play and lost minds.

Number 6 for Splitsound records with the first ep of the new talent "Konstress". Three tracks for a journey into the dark sounds and techno of "Konstress" with excellent sound, simple but effective...A real bomb for the dance floors !!!!

madness" she whispered as she tried to navigate through an onslaught of people.
She carried a feeling of numbness within her that helped her manage the constant distortion and the all to obvious hypocrisy surrounding her. Mindless wandering after having just survived another day in the trenches was a welcomed exercise in fact she had already begun to dissociate from the commonly perceived reality; entering the one of her choosing. If one was to observe her, a sway to the hips could be noticed furthermore, as if momentarily height on a good thought the woman now strutted around attracting all sorts of attention, from negative to overtly admiring.
All the cages in her mind were artfully crafted with beautiful bars made of gold and the ceilings had their own stars and suns that shone upon them. None of them were locked

Since the early 2010s, photographer and producer Izaak Schlossman has been surreptitiously using the Topdown Dialectic moniker to frame his most enigmatic and most psychedelic productions: faceless pure sound experiments that ogled dub and techno archetypes from somewhere far beyond the veil. This generous 2LP collection surveys over a decade of persistent activity, pulling together recently unearthed gear written between 2013 and 2016 (the same time period as the iconic Peak Oil trilogy) and muddling it with more contemporary material. It's a rare chance to fully comprehend the slow, measured evolution of the project: its genesis as a method to fractalize various bass music frequencies with suggestion rather than over-compression, and its ongoing advancement through sensitively finessed ASMR ambiance towards spangled neo-psychedelia.

So it's no surprise that the lengthy suite of five-minute snapshots was initially devised while Schlossman was preparing for his first ever Topdown Dialectic live appearance in 2025. A hazed early morning, open air performance that's still lodged in the memory banks of anyone who witnessed it, the set provided the narrative anchor for the album, blurring the past and present and reaching tentatively into the future - ideal material for audiences whose brains are fully plasticized. The tracks, while divided, sound as if they're breathing over and into one another; beats and phrases materialize and dissolve just for moments, leaving the mind to fill in the gaps with any available sonic material. What might reflect the bright neon light of acid house at first soon embodies the flicker of a candle over a desk of drum machines in a Midwestern basement, or the first blush of sunlight over a tiny campground as subwoofers creak in the distance.

It's music that asks the listener to be involved in the creation itself, projecting their own shapes on the negative space, their discreet fantasies on haunted stretches of near silence. Schlossman's identity was never the point, Topdown Dialectic was always a scrying stone intended to divine far more personal revelations.

Featuring rare- and first-on-vinyl tracks from beloved producers such as 2000 And One, Stasis, and CiM. Remastered by DMX Krew and with an accompanying online essay by Oli Warwick.

Across eight carefully selected slices of starry-eyed machine soul, Cold Blow presents an exquisite tour through backroom techno and downtempo electro. With a focus on thematic flow and an immersive listening experience, the London-based label explores works from leading lights of the 1990s and previously unreleased cuts that celebrate the human heart that can be discovered in synthetic sound practices. The development of techno in the 1990s saw the music evolve in different directions across the world. From the expressive blueprint laid out by the Detroit pioneers, a wide range of tempos and energies emerged. Techno's evocative synthesis and intricate drum machine programming was especially potent for deeper explorations away from the dancefloor. Documents Of A Different Reality casts back to when technology was steering quantum leaps in communication and creativity and the future was shot through with naive optimism. It was also a time when the media and industry hadn't caught up with the music to box it into distinct categories. As such, there's a sense of creative freedom that informs the older tracks on the album, from 2000 And One and Sandy Huner's sparkling example of early Dutch techno to London-based LA Synthesis' detailed take on braindance and the majestic night sky vision of cult legend Stasis. There's also space for rare, late 90s machine funk from Icelandic outlier Thor alongside Connective Zone's charmingly fractured bleep dream and a more contemporary offering from Barcelona-based duo Permutation. Meanwhile Mind Control and CiM both capture the spirit of stylistic fusion with twitchier rhythms that take influence from hardcore and jungle as much as techno. With an atmospheric through-line of melancholic pads and harmonious leads, this small but perfectly formed collection naturally follows on from previous, equally thought-out compilations on Cold Blow, and adds a distinct perspective on the history and continuing legacy of pioneering early ambient techno.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Nachpressung! Sub Pop und die Noise-Rock-Größen Chat Pile aus Oklahoma City bringen eine limitierte 7"-Single raus, auf der zwei Studiotracks drauf sind: ein brandneuer Song und eine coole Neuinterpretation des frühen Nirvana-Songs ,Sifting". Die zweite Pressung der Single kommt auf "BLUE MARBLE" Vinyl, solange der Vorrat reicht. Sub Pop ist total begeistert, dass Chat Pile uns mit diesen beiden großartigen Songs beehrt hat, und wir könnten nicht glücklicher sein, sie in die Liste der Größen aufzunehmen, die eine Sub Pop 7"-Single veröffentlicht haben. Die Band hat uns freundlicherweise ihre Sichtweise zu dieser Veröffentlichung mitgeteilt, also lassen wir sie selbst weiter ausführen! ,Es ist ein wahr gewordener Traum, eine Single bei Sub Pop zu veröffentlichen, und unser neuer Song ,Masks" wird hoffentlich dem Geist der mythischen, manchmal mystischen Stadt Seattle gerecht. Zum Teil dank des Films Hype sind wir schon lange von Seattle, der amerikanischen Underground-Szene der späten 80er Jahre, Sub Pop und ihren Werkzeugen zur Weltherrschaft fasziniert. Alles, was wir über das Packaging von Chat Pile gelernt haben, haben wir von den Sub Pop-Gründern Jonathan Poneman und Bruce Pavitt gelernt. Wir wollten einen Song aus der frühen Sub-Pop-Ära covern, und etwas aus Bleach schien die naheliegende Wahl zu sein. Songs wie ,Paper Cuts", ,Negative Creep" und vor allem ,Sifting" sind ziemlich ähnlich zu dem Sound, den wir mit Chat Pile machen. (Vielleicht nehmen wir uns das nächste Mal einen Song von TAD vor!) P.S. - Fuck ICE."

This is not a Ben Vida, Booker Stardrum, and Will Epstein record; it’s a Play Time record. That’s a subtle but important distinction, for a couple reasons. One, the sound of Magic Object—a polymetric blend of improv and pulse minimalism for saxophone, drums, and Moog—doesn’t really sound anything like any of their many other ensembles or respective solo projects. And two, it was only while making Magic Object, their debut album, that Play Time realized they were a band at all.

Let’s back up. The roots of the trio date to 2020-21, when Will and then Booker moved to the Hudson Valley, where Ben was already living. The three got into the habit of playing together at Ben’s house, and they soon realized that their hang sessions felt fundamentally different from making music in some falling-down studio in Bushwick. Where those experiences were rushed and cramped, a new sense of time and space now suggested itself. Where once they rat-raced the music, now they relaxed into it.

Early gigs yielded similar revelations. A booking at Tubby’s, the beloved Kingston venue, evolved into a kind of residency. Tubby’s is a small space, fitting around 100 people, with a bar in the front room and a stage in the back. Play Time decided that they didn’t want to play on the stage; they wanted to play in front, among the people in the bar. Rather than hogging the spotlight and overpowering the other voices in the room, they blended with the energy of their surroundings and emerged as a sort of minimalist-jazz-krautrock bar band.

Gradually, they discovered a newfound “elasticity”—Ben’s word—that reshaped the music from inside. “It’s this communal thing,” he says. “It’s vibes. And it’s embedded in the community up here, which feels really vital and nourishing.” They were jamming, but it wasn’t just a free-for-all; they found themselves listening to each other in new ways. “Ben and Booker joke that they’re always playing in different time signatures,” Will says. “We’re all going forward with our own ideas, but we’re open to each others’ as well, and they’re all sort of dancing together.”

“We all have our painterly solo projects,” Will says—where, Booker adds, “we do a lot of studio arranging and thinking and composition that takes shape over a period of time.” Play Time, on the other hand, is all about being in the moment. That spontaneity was key to the process of recording the album. They booked two days in their friend Joey’s studio, a converted wooden barn. “It’s just a live room,” Booker says. “There’s no separation or anything. So we’re all in the space together and it’s got this beautiful, woody sound, and that’s very much the sound of the record.” For two days, they just jammed, for seven or eight hours each day. When it was over, they went through, edited down the portions they liked, and added very judicious overdubs designed to enhance the original recordings without fundamentally altering them, staying true to the spirit of the sessions.

The result is something like a snapshot and a mission statement all rolled into one. “You’re hearing us discover the voice of the band in real time,” Ben says. “We finished those sessions and we were like, ‘Oh, that’s what our band sounds like now.’”

Now, with Magic Object, the rest of us get to find out too.

—

Balmat is a label with a cloudy outline. Jointly shepherded by Albert Salinas and Philip Sherburne, two friends living in Cardedeu, Catalonia, and on the Balearic island of Menorca, Balmat grew out of Lapsus Radio, a weekly show born almost ten years ago. Balmat’s mission is simple: to foster new ideas, expand upon personal obsessions, and put enveloping sounds out into the world.

“Balmat” means “empty” or “void” in Catalan. But quite apart from any negative connotations, we prefer to think of it in terms of possibility: a space waiting to be filled.

Suicide AFTR 7 moves deeper into the shadows on this release, stripping things back while letting the groove hit harder. Built on pumping 808s, restless synth lines, and a subtle acid pulse, the project blends electro, cold wave, and leftfield instincts into something leaner and more focused than earlier records. There’s a proto-80s spirit running through it: raw, tactile, and slightly unpolished, where tension lives in the negative space and repetition becomes hypnotic rather than obvious.

For the first time, real bass guitar and drums enter the picture, adding human weight beneath the electronics without diluting Suicide AFTR 7’s core identity. The result feels rawer, more intimate, and quietly confrontational. Music for late nights, dim rooms, and inward motion. Still unmistakably SA7, but closer to the bone.

Goldmin founder Romain Lanteaume aka EinKa meets Terrence Dixon for a 2nd record which is nothing but a logical suite to the one released last year.

This one is probably less deliberately "dark" but to us The Edge was not dark at all, like what we tend to call melancholy isn't obviously a negative feeling. We believe there's no real duality between things and states.. There's an incredible amount of degress in between.. It's always a bit more complex and deeper than the first impression!

A label long synonymous with raw, off-centre electronics and uncompromising club tools, Bjarki’s bbbbbb recors welcomes a producer whose approach feels cut from the same cloth, London’s Henry Greenleaf. In an era where functionality often outweighs feeling, ‘Brawn’ is a record that doesn’t court approval; it insists on impact. Built for high-pressure systems and low ceilings, it channels force not as spectacle, but as design.

Greenleaf’s catalogue to date, spanning labels such as Par Avion, YUKU, and ARTS, sketches a restless trajectory between precision and collapse. His productions operate where rhythm becomes architecture: kicks land like poured concrete, subs buckle and flex beneath shifting percussive grids, and textures are stretched until they fray at the edges. Sound is treated as a physical material, layered and stress-tested, reshaped until the familiar mutates into something tactile and strange.

Across the EP, that philosophy takes full form. A1 ‘Brawn’ sets the tone with dense, piston-like drums and tightly coiled low-end pressure, balancing brute force with meticulous spatial control. ‘Jump Up To Be’ follows with a more fractured swing, percussive shards ricocheting across a framework that feels perpetually on the verge of rupture. On the flip, ‘Gawk’ strips things back to skeletal components, carving negative space between distorted pulses and menacing, warped rhythmic figures, before ‘UNTUNTUNT’ closes the record in driving fashion, delivering a raw, functional workout that reduces the groove to its bluntest, most hypnotic form.

True to the label’s ethos, ‘Brawn’ doesn’t chase trends or smooth its edges. It folds air and pressure into motion, pares club music down to its working parts, and leaves room for spontaneous chaos to erupt within the grid; moments where structure splinters, energy misbehaves, and control gives way just enough to keep things volatile. Engineered yet unpredictable, utilitarian yet unruly, the EP embodies the tension, unpredictability, and uniqueness that have long defined bbbbbb recors.

If you're looking for some hi-fidelity techno that is about atmosphere and sound design as much as muscular rhythmic power, this one is for you as Standards & Practices returns with more thoughtful tackle across three EPs. Electro, half-time, dub and breaks are all chucked into the mixer here with Karim Maas opening with the unsettling emptiness of 'Positive Beliefs.' Stave & Grebenstein's 'Live Room' is a collage of texture and static with only the merest suggestion of rhythmic form, and Sandwell District offer a supple and deep techno vision on 'Le Coq Sportif.' Negative Affect's 'Sleep Walker' has menacing swagger to shut down a proper decent selection.

Yeong Die would typically be described as DJ, musician, or “experimental” composer, but in reality she is a sculptor. Between the rapidly disintegrating boundaries of composition and sound design, her work employs a hunting and gathering of intangible material—bursts of memory, fragments of liminal space, interstitial banalities—materializing as boundless expressions that evade genre constructs. As an integral presence among Seoul’s most forward thinking sound artists, Yeong is in a constant uphill battle rejecting the reverence that so quickly creeps in and infects contemporary craft, that relegates even the most audacious attempts of her peers to pigeon-hole pastiche. Given this style-agnostic starting line, her ESP Institute debut 'Uncapturable' exudes non-urgency, an unfettered pace that allows breathing room, affording the listener freedom to mentally isolate and explore elements without fear of missing a “bigger picture.” There is a warm and welcoming feeling that invites repetitive, even studied listening. While half the work is somewhat singular in presentation—'1km', 'Like Your Flaw', or 'Burnt'—there are moments of meticulous complexity—'Morning Rum Punch' (featuring vocals by Cifika) and 'Did' (featuring a smattering of spoken words by icecream drum), both underground Korean peer artists. These moments feel more of like an acute focus on execution that compliments the overall shape of the album, rather than a dynamic contrast. Cifika’s vocals, in particular, command the listener’s periphery in a playful and refreshing way, exaggerating negative space and in-between moments that not only the paint an arresting stereo field but a remarkable sense of depth, not easily achieved without production sorcery. It is, without a doubt, these beautiful fleeting moments that we describe as 'Uncapturable'.

A new force joins the RM homegrown ranks. Nases Morur is a new Greek artist from Thessaloniki and he steps in sharp, hungry and ready to shake the scene with his 5 track EP 'Primal Force'.

A statement piece that cuts straight to the core of his identity with a wild spirit that defines the Renegade Methodz ethos.

fter a series of long-form cassette releases on MAL Recordings, Berceuse Heroique, and his own Ideal State imprint, Samson A.K shifts focus to the club with Heavy Birds Drop - his first 12” EP. Mastered by Rainy Miller and pressed in a limited run of 150 copies, the record distills the grit and atmosphere of his tape work into a direct, floor-focused form.

Opening with the heaving distortion and low-end churn of Frog Bite, the EP moves through the fractured percussion of Forever Cold, then the hypnotic, deep-hours roll of the title track Heavy Birds Drop, before closing with Ballast, stripped back to skeletal dread and tense negative space. Across all four cuts, Samson A.K shapes a sound that is raw, functional, and uncompromising, setting the tone for the future of Ideal State.