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Open Space is proud to present our first ever full-length LP by LA’s newest 3-man band, Puli. Some words from our dear friend Matt McDermott below:

In recent years, a cadre of musicians from the east side of Los Angeles have reestablished the city of angels as the first city of Balearica. Alex Ho’s “Move Through It” followed in the lumbering footsteps of Project Sandro’s “Blazer.” Now, there’s a new landmark for the floating west coast sound. Swirling, the first album from LA supergroup Puli.

If you’ve got your ear to the ground you know the names involved here. Drummer and producer Damon Palermo’s pedigree stretches back a good 15 years or so, starting off with dub punks Mi Ami. Phil Cho is one of the busiest DJs, musicians and advocates for the deep stuff in LA, throwing legendary hillside parties under the Third Place banner. John Jones, the preternaturally talented guitarist and electronic tinkerer, records as AV Moves, is a key member of the Suzanne Kraft and Baba Stiltz live configurations and plays in The Trilogy Tapes-affiliated act Geo Rip.

But this listing of personnel and credentials puts too fine a point on it. Puli are three close friends who go to parties, DJ and get tacos together, repairing to their Chinatown studio a few times a week and coming out with remarkably textured, idiosyncratic downtempo jams. Building off the solid foundation of their 7-inch of heavyweight dubs for Melbourne’s Constant Delay, Swirling is an exploration of new horizons in chill out.

“Ramona” acts a statement of purpose—with halftime/double-time dub-tinged rhythms, hazy yet bright synth motifs and atmospheric guitar from Jones, not terribly far from the expansive approach of Japanese dub aesthetes Pecker. “Cloudy,” meanwhile, is a sort of deconstructed and bittersweet Balearic pop featuring Cho’s ethereal vocals. “Bongo Springs” is steppers’ house not far from close LA peer Benedek or the Mood Hut crew up north.

But what truly sets this record apart is the space and layers in the production—while it’s nominally an electronic record, Puli is a band that has slowly crafted these songs in the rehearsal space. “Havana Jam” cruises along a sliding roundwound bass guitar take with dubby chords and textural guitars. Palermo’s hand drums and live percussion enmesh perfectly with icy pads on “Leech Seed Dub.” Cho is back on the mic for the gorgeous closer, “C.S.B.”, underpinned by breakbeat and trunk-rattling sub bass. Puli doesn’t sound like anyone else, and is ultimately reflective of the city itself. Listening to Swirling feels like navigating a warren of side streets in the eternal sunshine. Take the drive and dive.

Seattle's own Manatee Commune (aka Grant Eadie) makes his long-awaited return to
Bastard Jazz with his fourth album, 'Simultaneity'. Lush and vibrant production is
familiar to his previous works, though Eadie has significantly matured in the activation of
space and character. A step away from standard songwriting, and a total disassociation
from lyrics at all, has made this record closer to the ambient genre than anything
Manatee Commune has released, all the while keeping one solid foot in the realm of
dance music.

'Simultaneity', as a whole, is an exploration of the collision between texture and time.
Captured recordings reminiscent of wind in wheatgrass, soft rain showers in the open
plains, and cascading beach sand wash over the mix, splashing into warm drones and
ascending melodies that cleanly syncopate against a steady rhythm. Though decidedly
electronic at times, a raw human element is ever-present in the form of a vocal motif:
just tiny moments of a loving voice lost in a sea of reverberation.

The album is a noticeably positive evolution from previous works. All nine tracks depict
a calmness and subtlety in musicianship, relying primarily on tenuous snippets of live
instrumentation and synthesis that hypnotically coil and coalesce with one another.
'Love Tone', the opening track, features Eadie's partner, a small voice memo clipped
and expanded into an ethereal vocal melody. A crisp felt piano delivers a complex
arpeggiation in 'Mosaic', a warm sonic bath scape reminiscent of Olafur Arnalds or
Kiasmos. Simple, undemanding bass lines drive tracks 'Path' and 'Faulted', though their
simplicity is contrasted with a variety of patterns that combine to create unique auditory
shapes, both building and landing in satisfying climactic movement. The album
culminates in the final track, 'Touch Theme', where a block of sound in the form of a
broad, open synthetic chord warms the ears, eventually twisting and shifting to rhythmic
chunks that shove against a familiar house rhythm.

2024 Repress

After 7 years and countless requests, Sneaker Social Club finally deliver a repress of Dream Cycle - Part One.

After a chance meeting at Gottwood in 2016 a bond was established between Dream Cycle (Robin Clarke) and label owner Jamie Russell over a shared love of 2 Bad Mice and Moving Shadow. It wasn't long before Clarke began channeling elements of that influence to produce his Dream Cycle Part.1 EP. Unfolding over 4 steppy tracks and an ambient closer, Clarke melds sharp snares, summery motifs, dense atmospheres and thick subs whilst keeping things suffused with a distinctly UK quality that marries his work perfectly with the Sneaker catalogue.

DJ Support: Ryan Elliott, DJ Die, The Blessed Madonna, Octo Octa, Bwana, Altered Natives, Noodles (Groove Chronicles), Liem (Lehult), Deejay Astral, LA4A, 2 Bad Mice, Fred P, Matt Karmil, Flori, Marco Zenker, J.Rocc (lol at comment!), Ajukaja, Gnork, William Djoko, Till Von Sein, Fold, ASOK, Gene Farris, DJ bwin, Seven Davis Jr, TRP, DJ Octopus, DJ Normal 4, Gerd, Dean Man s Chest, Poté, Doc Scott, Violet, James Welsh (Kamera), Konx-om-Pax, Etch, Raresh, Hrdvsion, Michael Serafini (Gramaphone), Frazer Ray, DJ Guy, Mak & Pasteman, Shenoda, Urulu, Mark Archer & James Zabiela, Zinc, Lehult, Jackie House, Mosca, Noodles (Groove Chronicles) & DJ Die.

The World of Monnom Black makes it triumphant return, unveiling the highly anticipated third iteration of its iconic release and ushering in a wealth of new artistic voices into its ever-expanding universe. Celebrated for curating the finest handpicked music, the series remains a beacon for championing the true essence of techno. Presented on triple vinyl and graced by 19 esteemed artists, marking this as the label's most innovative and important release to date. Welcome to The World Of Monnom Black 3!

You can call them a »supergroup«, but Moderat understands that it's the »group« aspect that makes them interesting.

Gernot Bronsert, Sebastian Szary (aka Modeselektor) and Sascha Ring (aka Apparat) have been working together as a trio almost as long as their two separate projects have existed. We've seen their collaboration grow from »laptop boy-band,« (as Ring playfully puts it) in 2003—with computers synched using software Ring himself had written, because at the time, »there was just no live performance software around.«

Ring confesses that Moderat wasn't »really meant to be a recording act ,« with Bronsert agreeing that, »it was really just about fun.« This maybe explains the six-year break that followed Moderat's first EP before they finally returned in 2009 with their selftitled debut album. Intent on creating something that contrasted with their own projects, the group started the cycle which blossoms on their second album, aptly titled II, culminating now in the trilogy's completion, III. Whereas I was the combination of two separate entities, II brought the members closer together, and in III, the final chapter in the trilogy, Moderat sounds like one band.

Both Szary and Ring will tell you that Moderat moved progressively from making tracks towards a more traditional writing approach of making songs - a process more fully realized on III. That's partly why the vocals have become more prominent. Mostly, you hear Ring singing (there are no guests this time), as he so often does as Apparat, but listen closely to »Ghostmother« to hear Bronsert and Szary backing him up. Stepping out of their comfort zone is the kind of thing that helped create their interplay between pop and electronics; doing it right won them the Resident Advisor Best Live Act honor as early as 2009, and they continue to gain popularity while remaining independent and underground.

Szary describes the idea behind Moderat as, »imagin(ing) yourself sitting in the cinema and watching a movie with an incredible soundtrack.« This is true with Moderat in general, but III in particular pairs an emotional pull with sensual imagery, creating dynamic sound and depth with lyrics such as »the calming scent of lavender fills the air,« or »burning bridges light my way.« You'd have
to ask them whether they're intending to manipulate the listener in the same way that John Williams or Hans Zimmer might with traditional orchestras.

One of the best parts of Moderat is their use of electronics to achieve orchestral diversity. They update the songwriting tradition with an intriguing palette, borne of careful attention and skill, informed by their »experiences with sounds of nearly 25 years of suband club culture.«
Let's not forget that these three were brought together by Berlin's now legendary rave scene. With this as their common foundation as individuals, III signifies Moderat's maturation in modern pop — an achievement shared under their collective belt.

Bronsert explains that, »the new album isn't based on jams. We went into the studio and knew exactly what we needed to do.« This is reflected in the sophisticated themes explored in the music. Take »Ghostmother,« which ponders inner peace, acceptance, fear of the unknown and how facing that fear often reveals something not so scary. Or »Running,« which is about being part of a mass that constantly needs to move to function, but doesn't have the power to decide the direction of motion. Or how about the wisdom of »Reminder,« which recognizes the world for its flaws and our role we've each played in that, but choosing to act differently and light the way to something better.

Given that, it's a bit of an understatement when Bronsert says, »I'd say our music has definitely matured.« Successful in their own endeavors, now they've mastered the »group«. It doesn't mean the end of Moderat, but it does mean they'll have to find something else to excel in.

High Cube is the beat-focused brainchild of Brian Foote (Peak Oil, Leech) and Paul Dickow (Strategy, Community Library), two low-key legends of the American experimental underground. After some 30-odd years of making music separately and together, Foote and Dickow are collaborating in earnest for the first time as a duo. For this debut, the pair enforced a simple, stringent set of rules: five instruments, a one-hour timer, and a total ban on overthinking.

The result is a record that is the sound of two old friends unplugging the usual levers and letting the "accident" of their chemistry take the wheel. It is drier, sparser, and decidedly "chunky"—a fictional band stepping into a suit to drive around for a while. It is neither dance nor chill-out, but a moody, complex trajectory defined not by the gear used to make it, but by the narrative mood it compels.

"Volcano Snail” starts things off in a disheveled shuffle, locking into gear with blurred and bubbling effluence. The shimmering dimness is lit low, with a woozy gait that recalls the headiest highs and luminescent lows of Jan Jelinek. “Underwater Welder” is a foggy, neon-lit cruise of skittering low-ends suspended in a permanent fall of color, while “A Dragon’s Treasure is its Soul” offers blown-apart, low-end city pop fragmented into an array of rhythmic detritus. Chordal textures hover in the air as a percussive loop takes its beguiling and frolicking shape.

B-side opener “Yonaguni” shapeshifts in real time, drifting with the grace of a glacier before bobbing in a frigid pool of vibrating clatter, static, and synth stabs. “Ofid+wor” offers a tried and true blitz of braindance, nodding to an endless list of 20th and 21st-century electronic body music. Buoyant closer “Mother of Thousands” holds a gravity-defying tenderness, pirouetting on a breeze with the elegance of effervescent longing. Woven together, the six extended tracks of High Cube are tethered to nothing but the ether—a giant sonic leap of peripheral absurdity from two artists with a lifetime of shared rhythm.

Bruno Silva, operating here under his restless Serpente alias, returns with Visita do Fogo — a sharp, stripped-back and incendiary counterpoint to the drifting, dream-jazz abstractions of Dias da Aranha. If that record floated like smoke, this one crackles and snaps like dry wood.

Visita do Fogo finds Silva stepping back into the heat of his beat-driven origins, embracing a raw, forward-leaning approach that feels closer to his live detonation than a studio construction. The record is built on stark materials — drum fragments, percussive jolts, scorched-earth loops — all manipulated with his unmistakable “screw” instincts: micro-cuts, sudden pivots, rhythmic false floors and the sense that the track might turn itself inside-out at any moment.
Rather than smoothing edges or leaning into atmospherics, Serpente doubles down on urgency. Each piece moves through the record with a chop-and-go physicality, a kind of ritual propulsion that never settles into comfort. Silva’s rhythmic language remains entirely his own: crooked but precise, feral yet meticulous, rooted in dance structures but constantly mutating away from them.

Visita do Fogo is less a sequel to Dias da Aranha than a flare shot into the same night sky — brighter, hotter, and designed to leave afterimages. It captures an artist burning forward, shedding everything unnecessary, trusting the flame.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

With two deeply cherished compilations already in the bag, Luke Una steps up for the third volume in his É Soul Cultura series on Mr Bongo. A love letter to the dancefloor and its power to unite people from all corners of society amid growing division and extremist politics. Genre-spanning in nature, the 15 tracks travel between cosmic soul, boogie, proto-house, slo-mo technoid grooves, drum machine afro, astral bass-bugging futurism, jazz funk, dance, and disco. Each having the ability to move the body as much as the heart.
 
From his formative years in Sheffield to co-founding Manchester’s much-fabled Electric Chair with Justin Crawford, through to helming the iconic LGBTQ institutions of Homoelectric / Homobloc, Luke has spent 40 years immersed in dance music. His latest outlet, É Soul Cultura, has grown from a label to a globe-spanning events series with Luke holding residencies and embarking on tours across the world from Japan and Australia to America and Europe. 
 
“For me, the dancefloor was never about a one-dimensional, thudding, 130 BPM beat only. It's a much more dynamic, broader vision than that. I cut my teeth in an era where a 100 BPM record had as much impact, excitement, and energy as a 134 BPM dancefloor jazz funk or techno record”, Luke mentions. É Soul Cultura Volume 3 is the perfect embodiment of that notion: “It’s about four decades in the trenches playing dance music, the late-night afters, the shebeens, the basements, warehouse parties, the eight-hour journeys in East London, through to festival sets at Houghton and We Out Here. It’s music unconstrained by genre or tempo and more about making your body move”. 

But this isn’t simply a collection of disparate dance tracks; they carry meaning and soul. “It’s less about escapism, more about reconnection. My experience of post-covid has been the coming together of all the clans in various clubs and gatherings. A reaction to a very toxic world out there, where the aggro rhythms of division have sought to divide us, and people don't meet as often. The coming back together face-to-face in clubs has encouraged a real love in the air, there's a real togetherness and collective spirit”.
 
Opening up the compilation is a track that channels that very message, the transcendental, soul-rousing Harris & Orr ‘Spread Love’. Joining the dots from there, to the low-slung deep house closer of Fatdog ‘Remember’, you’ll find electronic drum machine Nigerian funk, sitting side by side with dancefloor Cape Verdean brilliance, a post-punk cover of Fela Kuti, rubbing shoulders with cosmic electro, and an Una-championed, 8-minute, kickless DJ Harvey remix. There’s jazz funk in various guises moving from boogie synth to astral travelling, slo-mo acidic raw techno, and a ‘79 soul stepper, alongside swirling percussive Italo disco and tribal-charged house. All infused with an innate ability to bring people together.
 
As society becomes increasingly fractured, É Soul Cultura Volume 3’s message is more than movement. It’s about dance music’s power to unify people from all walks of life and break down the barriers that divide us.

“Tubby did three original dub albums, ‘Dub From The Roots’. ‘The Roots of Dub’ and the third is ‘Brass Rockers’ with Tommy McCook ‘pon the flying cymbals. Where he mixed it with the horn going in and out in a dub way and one named ‘Shalom Dub’ you can call Tubby’s too because he mixed the versions as they were off forty fives’’

Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee

King Tubby and Producer Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee are intertwined in the birth of Dub Music. After discovering a mistake that made a ‘serious joke’ (more of which later...) they went on to release the first pressings of this new musical genre namely ‘Dub Music’. Tubby’s vast knowledge of electronics and Bunny’s vast catalogue of rhythms would lay the foundations of what today is taken as a standard... the Remix / Version cuts to an existing vocal tune.

Osbourne ‘King Tubby’ Ruddock was born in Kingston, Jamaica on 28th January 1941 and grew up in the High Holborn Street area of downtown Kingston. He studied electronics at Kingston’s National Technical College and also on two correspondence courses from the U.S.A... When he had qualified Tubby began repairing radios and other electrical appliances in a shack in the back yard of his mother’s home. His work in the early days included winding transformers and building amplifiers for Kingston’s Sound Systems. Tubby built his first Sound System in 1957 playing jazz and Rhythm & Blues at local weddings and birthday parties. His reputation as a man who knew and understood both electronics and music grew steadily and as the sixties drew to a close. Tubby
purchased his own basic two track equipment. He installed this alongside his dub cutting machine, a home-made mixing console, and his impressive collection of jazz albums in the back bedroom of his home at 18 Dromilly Avenue which he christened his music room.

Tubby and Striker were at Treasure Isle Studio’s one day while Ruddy from Spanish Town was working with the engineer Byron Smith....

“Tubby and myself was talking when Ruddy was cutting some dub but Smithy (engineer) made a mistake through we were talking and forgot to put in the voice. It was two track recording in those days. Ruddy said ‘No Man! Make it stay! and so they cut the rhythm. When I went over to Ruddy’s that Saturday night a dance was in progress and when they played the vocal to the tune... then he said we’re going to play ‘Part Two’. They never called it ‘Version’..and then he played the rhythm track. The song was a catchy song and everybody started to sing along and the deejay started to toast so everything went down well. On Monday morning I went up and I said ‘Tubbs the mistake we made was a serious joke.It mash up Spanish Town! The people went wild. So you have to start to do that now ‘cause when the man put on the ‘Part Two’ everyone start singing this song. It played about twenty times. I said you try Tubbs!’...Well the next Saturday night now when Tubby strung up down the farm U Roy said he’s going to play ‘Part Two’ but Tubby did it different now. He started with the voice then dropped it out and let the rhythm run and then he brought in the voice in the middle and from there Tubby started to get really popular.’’
Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee

Dynamic Sounds upgraded to sixteen track recording in 1972 and Tubby purchased, again with the help of a deal brokered by Bunny Lee. The old four track equipment and the MCI console from their Studio B. The four tracks now gave him far wider scope to work with and he began to create a new musical form where the bass and drum parts were brought up while the faders allowed Tubby to ease the vocal and rhythm in and out of the mix. It was only a matter of time before Tubby’s dub plate experiments began to make it on to vinyl and the first ever long-playing King Tubby releases would feature a collection of his mixes to a selection of Strikers rhythms. So please sit back and enjoy this historic set of sounds. Lovingly restored and with a few extra gems added to the CD Editions. These releases were the first to carry the name of King Tubby and the first to credit the great musicians that contributed so much to the rhythms that made these albums possible.

In his own time, in his own tone and in his own company.

‘Win and lose without losing oneself’’ This line from French rapper Oxmo Puccino greatly accompanied David Walters while composing his fourth studio album. Over the eleven tracks on ‘Ti Love’, David took his time to find the right tone and in turn, tell his truth.

‘Ti Love’, is a French-Creole abbreviation for “petite love”, meaning ‘little love’, evoking that sweet fondness found in those small gestures and little acts of kindness.

Think of things like young kids' brotherly love or a stranger lending you a helping hand, while expecting nothing in return. It’s these motions that allow this album to feel full of real life, carried by beating drums that also pull at our heart strings.

Basing himself in a small village in Martinique, where David had not long since scattered the ashes of his late mother, the multi-instrumentalist decided to remain there and let the writing of Ti Love pour out from deep inside him. Taking influence from around the island, the energy from his makeshift studio set up in Fort de France, allowing a resilient yet grieving man to recount, let go and come to terms with his recent loss.

So embracing these new circumstances, on the rugged coastal Caribbean island of Martinique, David took up an artist’s residency in the island’s capital Fort de France, located near the town’s port is the ‘Manoir des Artistes’, a bustling recording studio space. A place where the walls shake as the latest sounds being created are blasted by locals and visitors alike. Most studio doors are wide open; as music here is a huge part of everyday life, feedback from encouraging neighbouring musicians is on hand and welcomed. A contrast to the isolation often assumed with working in more traditional music studios.

It was here in this stimulating environment that David recorded Ti Love’s initial demos.

With his first collaborator onboard, Neeweed, a 25-year-old producer and gospel expert who David met at the Martinique Jazz Festival.

Of the album’s initial versions of the record David recollects: ‘It took me three years to write it, then I rewrote it, reworked it. In the end I'm really glad I stepped back and listened to myself.’ I found a great ally in GUTS, who ended up being the artistic director of the record”

David surrounded himself with the right people who helped him express himself in the best possible way. He called on other friends and musical comrades; album opener and title track, ‘Ti Love’ features the incomparable Fatoumata Diawara (World Circuit Records / Africa Express) and further along additional production came in from; Izem, Art Of Tones, and GUTS himself, who all added just the right amount of ‘little love’ to this

project. Further helping hands came from Californian producer and DJ Captain Planet, who David was introduced to a few years ago. Closer to home, here in Europe, the German producer Bluestaeb appears on two tracks: the very catchy disco funk ‘Mr Maraboo’ and ‘Kite Koule’, the latter being the first single lifted from the album, where David invited Nigerian guitarist Keziah Jones.

Elsewhere on the album, fellow Heavenly Sweetness recording artist Blundetto contributed two tracks; the reggae ‘Voodoo Love’, which is David's tribute to Studio One, and the very sweet and resilient ‘Bon Voyage’, which closes the album... "It's gold, it doesn't need anything changing.” remarked David - ‘Bon Voyage’ is a goodbye to his mother, whose voice called him from the bottom of the sea one night while he was surfing during the full Moon.

Released almost 20 years after his debut album ‘AWA’ released on French imprint Ya Basta, home to Gotan Project and many others, David boasts a long list of radio supporters including; Gilles Peterson, Cerys Matthews and Don Letts at the BBC, while further field Cosmo Radio in Germany, and KCRW in Los Angeles.

On this new record, David has shown sincerity and vulnerability, while still honouring the infectious groove that he is known for the world over. Despite the upsets, a little love can indeed go a long way.

CREDITS:
Produced by Bluestaeb / Blundetto / Captain Planet / Izem / Art of Tones
A&R : Guts
Mixed by Mr Gib @ Onetwopassit
Except "Bon Voyage” and "Voodoo Love" mixed by Jerome “Blackjoy” Carron
Mastered by Benjamin Joubert @ Biduloscope
Art by Elliott Walters

Greywind is an Irish emo/alternative rock duo from Killarney, formed by siblings Steph and Paul O’Sullivan. Known for their atmospheric soundscapes, soaring melodies, and deeply emotive lyrics, the band first gained attention with their critically acclaimed debut album Afterthoughts in 2017. Blending post-hardcore energy with cinematic grandeur, Greywind quickly earned a devoted following, praised for their anthemic choruses and powerful emotional honesty. Their long-awaited sophomore album, Severed Heart City, was recorded in Los Angeles with acclaimed producer Sam Guaiana and is set for release via Frontiers Label Group in September 2025. The record showcases the band’s continued growth both sonically and thematically — evolving their signature blend of brooding textures and explosive hooks into something even more dynamic and expressive. From the haunting opener Acid Rain to the cathartic closer Cope in the Coma, Severed Heart City is a visceral, emotionally resonant journey. Themes of mental health, inner conflict, and fragile hope run throughout, elevated by Steph’s impassioned vocal delivery and Paul’s gripping guitar work. With Severed Heart City, Greywind cements their place as one of the most compelling and authentic voices in modern alt-rock. This is a band that turns vulnerability into power — and pain into unforgettable songs

In 1964, Martin Denny looked beyond the Hawaiian and Asian influences of his previous records to find another place to plant his umbrella in the sand, as well as in your drink: the sounds of Latin America. With this new sound to hang his exciting arrangements on, Latin Village has long been considered one of Denny's high-water marks, and Jackpot is thrilled to have this long-cherished LP back in print. This is an album that rips through what was considered "The Now Sound From Overseas," a sophisticated mash-up of sambas, bossa novas, and Latin jazz. From the first track, "Angelito" (the hit song written by Réne y Réne, later to also be covered by Trini Lopez & Herb Albert), all the way through to its closer, "Flying Down To Rio" (a song which Roxy Music later referenced in their 1972 song "Virginia Plain”), the album is a hypnotic listen. Latin Village also drops in some serious jazz numbers, with respected compositions such as "On Green Dolphin Street" by Kaper & Washington (which has been covered by Miles Davis, Bill Evans & Sarah Vaughn), "Malagueña" the sixth movement in Ernesto Lecona's Suite Andalucía & "Corcovado" by Antônio Carlos Jobim (who merged samba with jazz to create bossa nova). Latin Village is comforting in its familiarity within Denny's sonic world, but steps refreshingly out of the smoke-filled Tiki bars of his previous records and straight into the sunlight where this music still strolls around in a listener's heart, soul, and mind. “Latin Village is a triumph of Martin Denny’s search for a new style, post-exotica.” – ALLMUSIC, 4 stars.

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.

Harry Romero and Samaran remix Radio Slave and Kameelah Waheed’s ‘All Rize’ on Rekids It follows the release of the original single in May 2025, arriving this October. NYC House legend Harry Romero and respected Paris DJ, producer, and sound designer Samaran step up to remix Radio Slave and Kameelah Waheed’s ‘All Rize’, arriving via the label 24th October 2025. Originally released in May ‘25, ‘All Rize’ was dubbed a ‘perfect moment’ tune by Mano Le Tough, with support from the likes of Bradley Zero, Call Super, Sean Johnston, and more.
“Glad to be working a lot closer with Radio Slave on his label and projects. It’s just one of those brands that put out quality. So before I even heard what I was asked to remix for Matt, my answer was yes. My idea was to put a completely different twist on the original and make a new version that was peak time. So glad I took a chance!” - Harry Romero

“I wanted to create a darker club vibe for All Rize, adding another bassline, just keeping the vocal elements that have a strong character and some percussion to keep some organic groove to it. The idea was to keepa minimal idea as the original and make it Rize for darker clubs.” – Samaran

Founded in 2006, Radio Slave’s Rekids has since launched the Techno-focused Rekids Special Projects in 2017 and its latest sublabel, REK’D, in 2024. With Matt Edwards as the sole A&R, Rekids has been instrumental in developing emerging artists and remains a trusted home for House and adjacent sounds, recently featuring names such as Hilit Kolet, Tal Fussman, Frankey & Sandrino, Mathias Kaden, Huxley, and many more.

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

Zelienople frontman Matt Christensen returns to Miasmah with Constant Green - a record of reverberant country inspired songs that puts the weight somewhere between Johnny Cash and Slowdive. Matt pours out his soul through flashes of life - small and large. His voice roaming over the guitars in a way which feels like a floating poetic deluge.

Appearing fresh from last years Zelienople album Hold You Up, Matt has made a very personal record that arrives as perfectly as it could be. It is full of beautiful sparse moments that capture the feeling of time standing still while simultaneously flashing in front of your eyes. As a child of the 70ies, growing up with country influenced AM rock on the radio, riding around in cars without seatbelts, Matt creates this nostalgic feeling of free riding through the city streets at dusk : a dream world where one can see green as a symbol for humanity and optimism. Not to say the album doesn't have it's share of darkness. Christensen always lingers deep in melancholy, driving his fears and anxieties out through music.

Visions of being able to move anywhere, picking his mother up from jail, family matters, change, the small things in life - all outtakes from what he sings about. Although it's hard to pick up on unless you really listen, as his ramblings can at one moment be fully clear while in the next drowned or muffled - becoming a mere meditative element to the music. Steady collaborators Brian Harding and Eric Eleazer from Zelienople accompanies on pedal steel and keys to further fill the sound into a warm dream, following in the footsteps of Matt ́s previous Miasmah album Honeymoons (2016). That said, while Honeymoons used drum machines and vast open spaces, Constant Green is another step closer towards the classic singer-songwriter folklore. Timeless gold from an artist that never stops creating.

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…