Buscar:one one one

Sex Tags UFO presents the second instalment of the non stop ongoing HOUSE music collaboration between the Burger man and DJ Sommer! Music created as house music as a FEELING!

Another four track EP smashing out some fine underground house music, all with the mix of DJ Sommers studio skills and old-school hardware approach, and the Burger man's wonky touch! The almost weekly live session recorded in DJ Sommer's studio, then arranged and mixed at Casa de Fett bare some fruits, and here is their first record!

The first track on this EP, a deep and mellow house groover, with some trippy beats and percussion that keeps it moving. Deep pad, with a light and engaging melody on top. A real house groover to start the night.

The second cut, the energy shifts! A power infused feel good house track with spacey elements, timeless and simple 909 kick, a catchy bass line, swinging hi-hats for the groove, a strong classic snap. Added with some keyboard infused organ melody, and a 303 bass line. Sparkled with some synth EFX to give it a feeling of Galaxy!

One the flip side we go back to the depth. A deep tribalistic and dubbed out house track. Simple by all means. A moving and grooving beat added with a simple but catchy pad that brings everything together! Simple, pure and groovy!

The last tune on the EP, another uplifting energy driven house track! Classic US house style, with the driving, and swinging beats to make you move. With an uplifting organ pad, and some additional party oriented flute action! A real underground party smasher!

Just as previous time, versatile, simple, raw dance floor oriented HOUSE EP made in and for the underground!

Enjoy!

Munich-based duo Glaskin, brothers Jonathan and Ferdinand Bockelmann, have become pivotal voices in modern techno, known for their residency at the legendary Blitz Club and standout releases on labels like Mutual Rytm and Figure. Their live sets channel dynamic, forward-thinking energy, and now they bring that momentum to FJAAK's ever-expanding CROWD family. With the Blue Light EP, Glaskin deliver four impeccably groovy tracks that balance stripped-down flair and shimmering texture. "Blue Light" opens the EP with mellow synth tones, a lean, hypnotic beat and a vocal loop murmuring 'here we go' that signals the underground journey ahead. Next up is "Captcha", releasing as the single, where a spoken female voice is layered atop rhythmic percussion, marrying atmosphere with groove-driven momentum. On the B-side, "Tape", digs deep into rolling uncompromising techno territory, strict in structure yet irresistibly danceable. The EP rounds out with "Prophat Tool Board", stepping slightly into house-leaning warmth, its broader rhythm and melodic warmth offering a fitting counterpoint to the brooding energy before it. The Blue Light EP is Glaskin's debut on CROWD and a shrewd expansion of the label's sound palette: richly textured techno made for both peak-time impact and immersive listening. To celebrate the release on the label, Glaskin will join label-founders FJAAK for a CROWD night at Nitsa Club in Barcelona on October 10, an event primed to showcase the raw energy and precision behind their studio work. Don't miss this one!

Wahnsinnig authentischer 90er-Jahre-Vaporware-Jazz, kreiert für den Weather Channel von Paul Coleman, einem Chicagoer Bandleader der 60er und 70er Jahre der Bands Fabulous Epics, Rasputin's Stash und Crystal Winds. Es existieren nur 500 Exemplare auf Cloud Coloured Vinyl weltweit.

""Ein Manager des Weather Channel war mit Corky Browns Tochter unterwegs und versprach mir eine Menge Geld, wenn ich Originalmaterial schreiben und dem Weather Channel vorlegen würde. Ich schaltete sofort in Superman-Modus und begann, jeden Tag einen Song zu schreiben und zu programmieren. Ich arbeitete Tag und Nacht daran, diese Songs so schnell wie möglich zu kreieren. Sie wurden ein paar Mal gespielt, bevor der Weather Channel aufgekauft wurde. Aber wir wurden nie bezahlt."" – Paul Coleman 2025

The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

2025 Repress

As one of the most Sought after artists of the recent years, there is no doubt that "Alarico" is on the front line of the new generational techno movement.

After recent releases in labels such as Klockworks, Token and Mutual Rytm, The Milan Based producer taking the gloves off and Debuting his first solo EP on his Co owned label "Primal instinct" alongside Chlar.

The anticipated 5 tracker release "Carnal Fever", is an impeccable showcase of Alarico's ability to push his musical aesthetics even further and keep developing his signatured modern minimalistic textures into new levels.

Terry Francis makes his debut on Pariter with a rare and essential reissue from one of the UK Tech House's original pioneers. A cornerstone of the London scene, long time Fabric resident and a driving force behind the early Housey Doingz and Wiggle movements, Terry's influence runs deep in the foundations of underground house music as we know it today.

This release marks the first installment in a short-series with a carefully selected tracks from Terry's archive. Engineered by Wubble-U at the legendary Strange Weather studios and originally released on Eukahouse 25 years ago, these tracks capture the raw energy and spirit of the late 90's London Tech House at its finest. A timeless, sought-after release specially reissued and remastered with an unreleased retake, a vital document from a pivotal era.

funcionário delights in the freedom of creating freeform music for the first time in his career. On “horizonte”, he loosens the reins, his sound follows a wavy, organic structure rather than a rigid, formal one. If it feels freer and more colourful, that’s because it truly is.

Eight years ago, when we first encountered his work, he was composing soundtracks for imaginary video games and crafting sonic landscapes that felt like destinations for sci-fi anime characters. With “Cavalcante” (2022), he broke away from that past. It marked a turning point, he was ready to explore a “fourth world” in both sound and concept. The feedback was overwhelming.

Three years later, “horizonte” marks another evolution. He sends us music regularly, but this album stood out immediately. It felt right: more synth-driven, more open to improvisation. As he put it: “It’s like using oil pastels for the first time and discovering new possibilities. In a way, I’ve found new ways of creating using the same colours.”

Listening to horizonte is like waking up from a dream. Again and again. The opening track, “nascer”, suggests a new dawn, but it’s in “pássaros” that the vision fully takes flight: less processed, more raw, yet still detailed and expansive.

Finding new ways with the same colours has been his quiet mission all along. What’s new here aren't the tools, but the feeling. The movement. The invitation to travel with him. You can hear - and feel - his sense of wonder. Every sound radiates joy. Every moment sparks a new thought. The music moves quickly, but breathes slowly.

Tracks like “renascer” and “o caminho do regresso” echo the spirit of late-70s/early-80s Vangelis, in deep reverence. And just as you approach the end, “fantasma” arrives - a stunning closer, reminiscent of Eno’s “An Ending”. By then, it’s clear: the “fourth world” is behind him. funcionário has moved on. To where? We’re about to discover.

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok’s »Uncontrollable Thoughts« on Morr Music is the duo’s debut joint release. The Netherlands-based Georgian composer and the German sound artist from Berlin first met in 2019 in the context of a workshop programme that took place in Tbilisi, and later worked with Eto Gelashvili, Hayk Karoyi, and Lillevan on the massive »Glacier Music II« music and book project, released in 2021. This led them to engage in a less conceptually driven form of musicking and real-time composition that corresponds with their respective environments. They draw on traditions such as minimal music or late 1990s and early 2000s electronica to integrate subtle beats with elegiac organ drones, playful melodies with lush textures. The first document of an ever-shifting intergenerational dialogue, »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is a product of mutual listening outside time.

Though Chkheidze and Lippok had access to professional studios, they chose to rent a simple rehearsal space, equipped with only the bare essentials—bass and guitar amps as well as a small PA—to maintain immediacy in their working process. The music they made together corresponded to and drew on the respective possibilities and shortcomings of this studio, much like their collaboration in general is characterised by the care with which they approach each other's talents and ideas. While both had loosely defined roles—Chkheidze was responsible for the free-flowing beat programming and the evocative distortion came courtesy of Lippok, for example—they individually contributed in different ways to their joint process, which is as free of hierarchies as it is limitless. Hence, the duo’s focus on spontaneity and out-of-the-moment emergence makes them organically move beyond tried and tested conventions, resulting in music that seems to suspend time altogether.

When the first chimes on »Bird Song« announce a piece that sets rattling kickdrums against a backdrop of layered drones and rhizomatically entangled melodic elements, it becomes clear why »Uncontrollable Thoughts« carries this title: The album follows the constant detours of the subconscious of its makers, letting them explore moments of ecstasy such as on »Rainbow,« melancholy with »Field,« and the interplay of suspense and release through the ten-minute-long title track. But the different pieces also tie into one aother in various ways. The dirge-like organ drones on which »Rainbow Road« ends reappear in the beginning of »Uncontrollable Thoughts,« much like Chkheidze’s gentle yet emphatic piano chords on »Field« seem to provide the starting point from which the artist develops the striking motifs of the final piece »Opening«, whose title itself suggests that the record as a whole can and should be enjoyed as a loop. All this creates a unique, idiosyncratic temporal logic.

While there is much that sets Chkheidze and Lippok apart as solo artists, the major shared leitmotif in their respective bodies of work is the sonic engagement with space. »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is hence best understood as an extension of this practice; as an album that maps the geographies of their minds in motion, tracing musical movements as they melt into each other.

For the third time, they had been sent to this forsaken land. It was neither east nor west, neither north nor south. They said it had once been a kingdom, somewhere in the heart of the old continent, something they had pieced together from the ruins scattered across jagged hills sprouting here and there from the ground. Everyone else went islands, dived to the seabed, drilled at the poles, and explored waste in the east, but these two were sent here again, as if someone were trying to get rid of them, just to keep them out of the way.

What were they really supposed to find here? They wandered the land, aimless and bored, like the last bird watching from the sky. Sometimes they landed, took samples for the lab, and then caught a nap by the river bend. They avoided the hot fumes of active volcanoes. Compared to those on other planets, these were more like small, whispered fumaroles, but even so, they had to be careful.

They felt as if they had stepped into a scene from a movie they had once glimpsed. A mad and exhausted conqueror screamed and wildly flailed his arms on a ridiculous wooden raft in the middle of a raging river. It was somewhere in the south of this planet, deep in the jungle. There were many movies made on this planet, but only fragments of the reels survived, and this one quickly became iconic.

When a trumpet sounded in the distance and flooded the land with a booming murmur, when all the fumaroles hissed together, and when wind rolled in, covering the land in heavy fog, both of them knew the third expedition would not be like the previous ones.

At that moment, Kult Masek and Petr Vrba were flying over the land that was once called České středohoří.

Downwards present Alexander Tucker in metamorphosis from psych folk to techgnostic bard, aided by notable guests – Justin K Broadrick, Regis, Phew, Karl D’Silva, JJOWDY, and Elvin Brandhi – in a quest for disordered convention and new thrills. One up to Tucker’s outings for Alter and The Tapeworm, and spiritual successor to his »Nonexistant« trio on Downwards, »Clear Vortex Chamber« is an enigmatic take on the brownfield edgelands where the eldritch intersects electronic heck. Decades of work spread between hardcore punk, psych rock, folk, and drone — including work with Stephen O’Malley (Ginnungap) and Neil Campbell (Astral Social Club, ESP Kinetic) — feed forward into this album’s unsteady machine rhythms and cranky junkyard atonalities, where Tucker panel-beats aspects of his previous sound with a newfound industrial thrust and cyber-punky lust that suits him dead well.

A crafty example of how to mutate without losing sight of yourself, the album’s eight parts feel like a cyborg patching itself into modernity. On opener »Udug« Tucker’s signature falsetto peals from a A Scanner Darkly-style scramble suit of stereo-strobing electronics, setting a melodramatic, neo-gothic tension that riddles the album thru the knotted, fractured industrial dancehall bullishness of »Mallets« with Yeah You’s feral gob Elvin Brandhi, via a pair of standout »Fedbck« parts with Tucker’s personal idol, Justin K Broadrick (Godflesh, Jesu, and the rest), featuring the Brum deity’s claw-handed riffs and howl on the first, and smeared with Karl D’Silva’s brass in its noctilucent second part.

Regis also proves a staunch foil for the album’s most robust, club-ready cut »Zona«, hammered out from buzzing metallic drums and monotone bass drones, and pitting his severed vox against Tucker’s own androgynous harmonies to recall aspects of The Ephemeron Loop via British Murder Boys, whilst scene legend, Can and Ryuichi Sakamoto spar Phew (aka Aunt Sally) ideally tempers the flow in a relatively soothing »Sansu«, sharing more cyber-romantic, recombinant sentiments with the channelling of Robert Wyatt gone Funk Bruxaria on »Folded«.

Latest record off the Kalahari production line comes courtesy of a real one. Klon Dump in the building, moving like a madman across four barrelling tech house scorchers.

Part-producer, part-engineer and a long time co-conspirator of A Colourful Storm’s Moopie. Better known to some under the alias Mark, but always surefire for some serious dancefloor potency. Doubters, look no further-this is another demonstration of his mastery.

Big with the radiant stabs, even bigger on the earworm groove. Ploughing the furrow of tough, direct but deft as the Klon Dump faithful will have come to expect by now. Proper belters.

Always flexing outstanding rhythmic ingenuity, whether it’s hardcore hybridity as Mark or the tech house innovation shown here. If anything in life is certain, it’s that a KD record will lay down some serious torque.

There’s also an off-kilter playfulness that kinda feels reminiscent of T+++’s ‘Space Pong’ or Fiedel and Errorsmith’s MMM project. Another ace in the hole from the Antipodean shapeshifter.

"Deeply tied to the composer’s own life, the narrative of Lacrimosa invites reflection in the face of loss. This sonic work draws inspiration from Alice Coltrane’s spiritual Eternity (1976) as well as the traditional structure of the Requiem, a mass for the dead. One of its sections, the Dies Irae, evokes Judgment Day and concludes with the Lacrimosa (literally, “full of tears”), depicting the weeping of souls in search of salvation.

In Lacrimosa, Low Jack transforms autobiographical elements into a messianic, polyglot form, unfolding across eight movements that chart the storms and serenity of grief. The piece unfolds from dawn to dusk, as the eyes open and then close. An initiatory solar cycle, from which one returns like Dante in his Divine Comedy, transcendent yet grief-stricken by the loss of a guiding presence.

Low Jack crafts one of his most intimate compositions, weaving together musical archetypes and universal narrative structures, drawing from both classical lyrical music and pop standards."

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

CENTRAL's new release is already here! On the B-Side, DJ KAWASAKI has edited the extra-hit “Samurai” to make it an even hotter dance track!
Both sides of the album are perfect for the field!

CENTRAL, a salsa band that has suddenly gained attention after releasing two singles and a full-length album last year, but is actually a group of seasoned salsa veterans, has already released a new single! This time around, CENTRAL has released a cover of “Brazilian Rhyme,” one of Earth, Wind & Fire's many classic songs that still remains a dance floor favorite, with a Latin arrangement that is full of CENTRAL's signature style. The groovy bass, shimmering electric piano, percussion, and outstanding horn arrangement make you want to dance and scream, “This is CENTRAL! The B-Side features DJ KAWASAKI's edit of “Samurai,” a definitive mellow salsa track that has now become a WANT-requested item from all over the world, sublimated into an even hotter dance track!

This summer, dance hard to CENTRAL's salsa!

4 leftfield club belters by our man Robert Crash on his own label!
200 copies

There is a new artist from Japan followed by the name Kakeru who is giving his Shaw Cuts debut with ãRaw CourageÒ, telling the story of an emperor besieged by an army who then entrusts his child to the Black Dragon Clan heading off to a dangerous journey.
An attempt to usurp the Ming Emperor's throne by the sinister martial artist simply known as ãold monster" and his armies results in most of the palace being massacred. ãQuagmireÒ and its vibrant percussive pattern carried by a heavy broken kick and a driving bassline help the emperorÕs infant son to escape and put in care of the Black Dragon Clan.
En route they are attacked by government forces but rescued by two knights. They prove to be a valuable addition to the party in subsequent encounters with their pursuers. ãMirror ForestÒ and its laid-back atmosphere, mysterious vocal snatches and shining pads carried by an expressive drum pattern help the travellers parrying every sneaky attack on their journey.
Trying to head to the White Dragon Clan in order to seek for help, the squad has to masquerade and take several battles, always protecting the baby in tow. The razor-sharp percussions, corrosive bass and thrashing kick of ãSwayingÒ tremendously supports the warriors in each fight.
Finally they make it to the temple of the White Dragons where they show their Black Dragon seal as a sign of solidarity. But all of a sudden the mood changes. ãBroken BubblesÒ and its menacing atmosphere built up by a monstrous sub bass, reduced but impactful drums and subtle synth elements underline the potential threat. Did they walk into a trap? Is there enough energy left for one big fight? Raw courage is vital now.

Seit langer Zeit kursierten die Can LPs nur als Bootlegs, jetzt gibt es endlich die offiziellen Vinyl Reissues via Spoon Records! Das in nur drei Monaten aufgenommene Doppelalbum (Gatefold) der Band erschien 1971 und entstand noch auf Schloss Nörvenich. Es gehört zum Weltkulturerbe der jüngeren Musikgeschichte, so wie "Sergeant Pepper" von den Beatles, "Electric Ladyland" von Hendrix oder das Bananenalbum-Debüt von Velvet Underground. Die sieben hier versammelten Titel bestimmen bis heute die DNA der Populärmusik. "Tago Mago" nimmt eine Sonderstellung im Werk der Band Can ein. Sie ist der Mount Everest, die höchste Verdichtung eines schieren Ausdruckswillens, der weder stilistische Kleinkrämerei, noch musikalische Genre-Grenzen akzeptierte und das war, was "nur nach sich selbst klingt, wie nichts zuvor und danach" ("sounds only like itself, like no-one before or after" (Julian Cope, "Krautrocksampler"). Tatsächlich wurde "Tago Mago" gerne als "magische Platte" bezeichnet, eine geheimnisvolle Reise ins düstere Herz einer bis dahin nicht gehörten Musik.