quête:parallel 9

As with their first various artist compilation EP, Let's Play House has chosen to grab tracks from a handful of artists both new and old to the label and party. Portuguese duo Johnwaynes released the I Can See EP on the imprint in July of 2012 and Belgium's Mugwump has been part of the company's NYC party stable since 2010. The newcomers here—montel and Last Waltz—are obvious shoe-ins for inclusion in the roster.

As with the last V/A, this one tells a cohesive aural story. montel kicks the thing off with a no-nonsense jackin' house boogie, underscored by a slightly-out-of-tune and elastic bass that infects your whole body. Johnwaynes darkens the mood a bit without loosing montel's sense of urgency. The track throbs forward with the assistance of another thick bass, scattered synth ditties, herky-jerky hats, and breathy overlaid effects, giving it a cavernous vibe.

Brussels-based troublemakers Mugwump start the flip with a tune that seamlessly fits into their cannon—it sounds so familiar that it's hard to believe it's only just come out. As always, the duo's foundation is a choppy, hook-laden bass that's wrapped in playful synth lines, water-submerged effects, and big drums suitable for the largest of rock stadiums. Then Last Waltz wraps the whole affair up with their own melodious house boogie. As with the A2, theirs is more somber and spooky, yet just as catchy and addictive as the brighter montel and Mugwump songs. Imagine this EP as a miniature rendering of one of LPH's warehouse parties: it's big, bold, and lots of fun, while still having an obvious sense of a buildup, peak, and comedown.

As the so-called “Latin boom” becomes a new anchor for hard-swung club sounds, it is crucial to recognize that the region’s musical culture extends far beyond dembow edits and the pop-trap hybrids that have edged into the mainstream. Monterrey-born, New York City-based producer and DJ Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, returns to NAAFI with Potpourri, a generous and kinetic collection of dancefloor-oriented tracks filled with percussive flourishes, squelching 303 basslines, and rhythmic mutations that actively challenge the status quo. Rather than rebuilding “Latin sounds” as a fixed category, the album rethinks their internal logic, tracing the evolution of techno and house in cities like Detroit, Chicago, and New York alongside parallel innovations emerging in Mexico, Colombia, and across the wider Latin world. Positioned on the bridge between Mexico and the US, Potpourri does not seek synthesis as a gesture of smooth fusion, but as a site of disruption.

The album can be heard as a loose follow-up to System (2018), Debit’s NAAFI-released EP that expanded the sonic potential of tribal guarachero through triplet-driven rhythms, industrial pressure, and noisy reconstruction. Potpourri retains guaracha as a structural backbone while drawing further influence from veteran DJ and producer Javier Estrada—who also appeared on System—and particularly from his fast-paced, nonlinear style of mixing. That approach becomes a formal principle here: canonical structures are dismantled, repetition is avoided, and tracks evolve without sacrificing propulsion. Coming after the introspective temporal inquiry of Desaceleradas and the speculative historical acoustics of The Long Count, Potpourri arrives as a deliberate surge of energy. As Beatriz explains: “It’s a manifesto for rethinking form and sound in dance music. By stepping outside traditional structures and embracing the potpourri approach, I’m creating new meaning with familiar rhythms. I’ve also been applying this to my DJ sets, using it as a tool to break free from established norms and explore new narrative possibilities.”

Years in the making, Potpourri imagines an alternate timeline in which the psychedelic squelch of acid—echoing pioneers such as DJ Pierre and Mr. Fingers—and the dub-inflected atmospheres of Basic Channel entered into direct and sustained contact with Latin American club mutations. Those references are legible, but never merely quoted. Instead, they are folded into syncopated hi-hats, overdriven kicks, and unstable arrangements that absorb both the intensity of the parties Beatriz remembers from Monterrey and the abrasive edge she sharpened at DIY noise shows in New England. The result is unmistakably a dancefloor record—heard in tracks as forceful as “Pero like” and the peak-time pressure of “tuvesuerte”—but one saturated with grotesque, psychedelic atmospheres, where sounds dissolve into hoarse croaks, acidic smears, and anxiety-inducing growls. Here, the rave becomes not simply a site of release, but a platform for navigating identity, hybridity, and artistic formation across borders. Moving through peaks and ruptures, Potpourri reveals a party narrative that is not linear but multidimensional.

By folding together the fluidity of DJ culture, the experimental charge of acid, and the rhythmic vitality of guaracha, Potpourri proposes a space of formal and political innovation within Latin America’s rapidly expanding electronic music landscape. It is a record that refuses containment, pushing against the templates through which Latin electronic music is often consumed, and insisting instead on friction, instability, and transformation as generative conditions for the dancefloor.

Mystic Letter K presents Occulimus. Behind this alias stands Cari Lekebusch, one of Europe’s most respected and prolific techno figures, with an undeniable legacy and historic releases on labels such as Missile, Hybrid, and Planet Rhythm, among many others.

With Mystic Letter K, Lekebusch steps into a parallel, more mature and conceptual universe—one where he fully explores a mental, tribal, deeply hypnotic and highly danceable strain of electro. His sound is built on constantly shifting patterns: elements that repeat, reconfigure, and sequence themselves in multiple ways, creating a continuous sense of motion that drives the listener into states of trance and altered perception. Occulimus captures this essence with surgical precision: an unmatched groove, raw yet refined, designed for the dancefloor but equally suited for full immersion. Each side of this double vinyl acts as a powerful and versatile tool, allowing any DJ to build, sustain, and transform energy with a single record in the bag.

A direct, functional, and absorbing work that reaffirms Lekebusch’s forward-thinking vision and his unique ability to sculpt sound in motion.

If – in some parallel universe (or perhaps a not-so-distant-future version of the one we’re already sentenced to living in) – the evil overloads of artificial intelligence were actually successful in their attempts to create convincingly enjoyable “original music,” more specifically tasked with wholly encapsulating my own personal tastes by data-chugging some cocktail of – oh, I don’t know – the posters on my wall, the records in my “most listened to” pile, the mixtapes I made for others, intensive physical scans of my auditory cortex, amygdala, hippocampus, heart strings, whatever else they have splayed out on their autopsy table with the intention of generating one all-encompassing “perfect band” based on the fruitful sum of their findings – that band, for me, would be (or would at least sound exactly like) the Tara Clerkin Trio. It is, quite simply, without exception, the music I wish to hear.

Formed in Bristol UK (where none of them are from yet all of whom are deeply engrained) in 2020, the Tara Clerkin Trio – as it somewhat democratically exists today, despite the singular authority implied by its name – consists of the titular Tara Clerkin, her partner Sunny Joe Paradisos, and Sunny’s brother, Patrick Benjamin. I’ll confess, I don’t know what their respective roles are within the operation and there’s only a very small part of me that cares to learn, as one of my favorite qualities in an objective listening experience is the mystery of who is playing what, which sounds are “authentic” versus synthesized, which chunks are performed “live” in a room together versus meticulously Frankenstein’ed from measure to measure, or how exactly the overall sound is so (seemingly) effortlessly achieved. Though, I suspect, if and when I do witness a live performance by this band at any point, my enjoyment of the music will not be lost in my better understanding of it.

With two extraordinary mini-albums – In Spring (2021) and On The Turning Ground (2023) – making a splash on London’s formidable World of Echo label in wake of their self-titled 2020 debut, this upcoming Somewhere Good LP is, in many ways, the band’s most realised work. In running their usual gauntlet of idiosyncratic (*an overused adjective for which here there is regrettably no sufficient alternative) approaches, Clerkin & co. colour in and outside of compositional lines over the course of 40+ celebratory minutes - never wallowing, despite inherently somber subject matters of self-defeat, disease, displacement, restlessness, gentrification - allowing their arrangements and improvisations ample space and time to situate, stretch out, breathe, cross-pollinate, and ultimately take deeper hold on the listener’s imagination – all while somehow sounding more like themselves than ever before.

Of course, there are traceable influences herein, if one felt that such comparisons were necessary to properly examine and enjoy this music (they aren’t)… Being the big dumb American from the small boring town that I am, cornfed on ‘90s alternative radio with the enchantingly exotic sounds of Maxinquaye and Mezzanine emanating from my chunky tube television, I can’t help but to make a blatantly obvious reference to a “Bristol sound”, ie the whole trip-hop trip, the pastoral crooning over the suggestive urban grime of cracked electro/piano treatments, the digitally-yet-primitively reconstructed James Bond soundtrack string-beats, etc.. But the Tara Clerkin Trio is so infinitely much more than that. There are elements of avant-pop, modern classical, kraut-folk, audio verité, dare I say indie rock (and not of the beer guzzling, masturbatory fuzz-flex variety but perhaps more like a Trish Keenan-fronted Faust, Adrian Sherwood at the mixing desk of If You’re Feeling Sinister, or – in expanding on our alternate reality – a world in which High Llamas cut a full-length for Warp Records with Andrew Weatherall on coffee duty).

The hazy, unmappable skyline-mirage of droning harmonium, upright bass, peculiarly accentuated wind instruments, acoustic guitar, hushed yet literally mighty keys combine to hypnotizing effect. The band may make underlying nods to jazz, sure, but it’s not appropriation, it’s that they have the actual chops to build it out. Beneath the janky samples and oddball percussive embellishment lies actually great drumming. Beyond the manipulated vocal witchery and woefully reflective plain-spoke moments are Tara’s subtly inspired melodies, sung with what might honestly be the glue to the whole crazy equation. A calming consistency throughout the otherwise unpredictably dynamic, boldly intuitive, uniquely British exploration of this (their own) universe in song. – Ryan Davis (Chicago, February 2026)

Repress of 2018’s classic compilation from Brownswood.

A primer on London’s bright-burning young jazz scene, this new compilation brings together a collection of some of its sharpest talents. A set of nine newly-recorded tracks, We Out Here captures a moment where genre markers matter less than raw, focused energy. Looking at the album’s running order, it could easily serve as a name-checking exercise for some of London’s most-tipped and hardworking bands of the past couple of years. Recorded across three long, fruitful days in a North West London studio, the crossover between each of the groups speaks to the close-knit circles which make up the scene.

Surveying the way that London’s jazz-influenced music had spread outside of its usual spaces in recent years, this album bottles up some of the vital ideas emanating from that burgeoning movement. Giving a platform to a scene where mutual cooperation and a DIY spirit are second-nature, it’s a window into the wide-eyed future of London’s musical underground.

Ubiquitous, much-lauded saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings is the project’s musical director. His own recent projects span from South Africa-connected, spiritually-minded jazz players Shabaka and the Ancestors to Sons of Kemet, who match diasporically-connected compositions with viscerally-direct live shows. His entry on the album, ‘Black Skin, Black Masks’, is typically difficult-to-define: with an off-kilter, shifting rhythmic backbone, repeated phrases – mirrored between clarinet and bass clarinet – shape the track with an alluring hue. His input ties together a deft, genre-agnostic sensibility that’s shared through all the players on the record.

Theon Cross – who’s also part of Sons of Kemet with Hutchings – starts his track, ‘Brockley’, with the solo, distinctive low rumble of his tuba. Winding and mesmeric, it sees tuba and sax lines winding together in rhythmic and melodic parallels. Ezra Collective – whose drummer and bandleader Femi Koleoso has toured with Pharaohe Monch – run a tight, Afrobeat-tipped rhythm on ‘Pure Shade’, with the final third changing gear into a melodic, momentous closing stretch.

Joe Armon-Jones, whose ludicrous chops on the piano have seen him touring with the likes of Ata Kak, showcases earworm-like, insistent motifs on ‘Go See’, balanced with a playful, improvisatory approach with room for ad-libbing and solos a-plenty. Taking a softer tact than many of the other entries, Kokoroko – whose guitarist Oscar Jerome has been making waves with his solo material – spin a lyrical, steady-paced meditation on ‘Abusey Junction’, matching chanted vocals with gently-played guitar.

Nodding to spiritual jazz influences, Maisha’s ‘Inside The Acorn’ is a wandering, explorative rumination, balancing delicate washes of piano and percussion with sharp interplay between flute and bass clarinet. In contrast, Nubya Garcia’s ‘Once’ is taut and carefully-poised, her tenor sax guiding a carefully-built energy to an explosive conclusion. And finally, Triforce’s ‘Walls’ is a performance in two parts: starting with Mansur Brown’s languorous, lyrical guitar, the second half switches up to a low-slung, g-funk-tipped groove.

Craig Clouse has devoted the past several decades to exploring a wide range of avant-garde avenues for his brainchild Shit & Shine. The monolithic riffs of raw and powerful psych'n'roll hysteria, the freeform dance miasma, sub-heavy electronica and the blissful stupidity crafted for ecstatic ascension: all perfectly-placed in the idiosyncratic world of Shit & Shine. There's also fertile soil for twisted noises in their lowest form, often obscured by groovier comrades in S&S releases yet vitally important for the substance of Clouse's compositional carcass and OOH-sounds has given him the required space to stretch out his longtime interest in developing loose structures and crackling landscapes to transcend his rhythmic comfort zone.

Making an enthusiastic transgression into noisy tones, "Joy Of Joys" has a friendly way of presenting difficult material. The rough and ready cheapo electronics sparkle in full electrifying mode, welding an ascetic gamut of aural hypnotics with a wormhole of uncompromising loop brut. Clanks, bangs, twangs and creeping, ragged globs of sound bloom on the bones of repetition to focus on the swinging stream of dirty anarchy. Stepping out of any context and genre disciplines, S&S finds new sonic trajectories in "Joy Of Joys" which perfectly sit in-between a wobbly cabal of international sub-underground acts: the idiot-avant strategies of LAFMS, early Mego bad digitalia, no-brow enthusiasm of Wolf Eyes family, micro-DIY ethos of Chocolate Monk and the sheer hellish nonsense of US noise circa '00s.

Clouse was already established as a landscape painter with a series of faux naïf paintings charmingly accompanying his releases. With his heart full of passion for abstract minimalism, he continued these narrative forms but was always in search of the confidence to paint non-figurative art. The first step into the chaotic abyss is coming from his sonic side by abandoning the beat and riff layers of his previous works to complete nakedness and reductionist courage. At once Clouse makes an evolutionary lurch into extremes as well as taking us back to basic forms in "Joy Of Joys". He creates an entire new parallel world to Shit & Shine with his maverick imagination presenting us with one of the most mutant releases to bear his name. Arthur Kuzmin

Second album of french incendiary fake big band Parasite Jazz. A krautrock, jazz-non-jazz, experimental album recorded along four seasons by three musicians (Alex Larsen, Tamara Goukassova & Théo Delaunay) from the french fringes ; members of Succhiamo, Diagonale des Yeux, Simple Music Experience, Violent Quand on Aime ... featuring Radio Hito, Kyle Knapp (Deliluh) & Hochiwah.



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After its first release in 2023, the tiny big band Parasite Jazz brings its public iterations to fruition with “♫”, a testament to an alternate reality, matured voyaging across France over the span of four seasons.



It sees the music flee through exuberant forests and steep troglodytes ; a parallel genre movie with a soundtrack of diluvian rhythms, mocking chants, jazz noir and voodoo accidents. In this shifting, autonomous world, the elastic orchestra—whose members Radio Hito, Valentin Noiret, Kyle Knapp, and Hochiwah keep on appearing and disappearing—plays for nocturnal secrets and feverish cavalcades.

Die Synthesistin und Komponistin Emily A. Sprague verbindet intuitive Klangstrukturen mit ausdrucksstarkem Songwriting und schafft so weitläufige Klangwelten, die unmittelbar und mitreißend sind. Nach ersten Experimenten mit Gitarre und Keyboard als Teenager gründete Sprague Anfang der 2010er Jahre die Indie-Band Florist, mit der sie ein treues Publikum gewann, bevor sie sich 2017 unter ihrem eigenen Namen auf Umwelt- und Ambient-Kompositionen verlegte. Zu ihren Veröffentlichungen zählen mehrere Alben aus beiden Projekten, zuletzt Florists ,Jellywish" und ,Cloud Time" aus dem Jahr 2025 sowie nun die EP ,Double Moon". ,Double Moon" zeichnet psychische und greifbare Landschaften als parallele Welten nach. Durch beschwörende Wiederholungen und durchscheinende Klangfluten ebnet Sprague einen initiatorischen Weg mit modularer Komplexität und lyrischer Weitsicht, untermalt von V Haddads transparenter Stimme. Mit instinktiver Präzision offenbart ,Double Moon" sensorische Weite durch viszerale, szenische Komposition. Geprägt von gepatchten Farbverläufen, frostigen Winkeln und warmen, melodischen Wellen dreht sich jeder Klang um den nächsten, taucht gleichzeitig auf und verschwindet wieder in einem fesselnden Klangbogen. Dieser Track bewegt sich in schillernder Subtilität - die Farbe der Nacht, die sich über den Himmel zieht und die Silhouetten beleuchtet, die sie erst möglich macht.Der mittlere Track, ,Dusk (How to Fly)", ist seinem Titel getreu ein subtiles und bewegendes Experiment, das den Ausklang des Tages heraufbeschwört, zusammen mit einem flüchtigen Anflug von Erhabenheit und der nahen Möglichkeit des Fliegens. Faszinierend in seiner nachdenklichen Drift und leuchtenden Bildsprache verschmilzt der Track sanft synthetisierte Fäden mit einem langsamen akustischen Rausch - eine Melodie, die in grenzenlose Richtungen treibt. Geleitet von Spragues unverwechselbarer Gesangskaskade und briefartigen Fäden webt sich eine beschwingte Sequenz mühelos von grundlegenden Erinnerungen zu einer weiten emotionalen Öffnung und fragt: Wie könnten wir auf andere Weise hier sein? Wie können wir überhaupt etwas fühlen?« ,Double Moon (Andras Dub)" verleiht Spragues Originalkomposition eine strahlende Note: Der australische Produzent Andrew Wilson, alias Andras und eine Hälfte von Wilson Tanner, verwandelt die Textur des Originaltracks durch tiefe, strahlende Rhythmen. Jeder Takt springt und zerstreut sich, um etwas völlig Neues zu erschaffen.

One of the true, undisputed pioneers of Dutch techno, Steve Rachmad appears on Dekmantel for an EP of peerless machine music. On the 3-6-9 EP, the artist also known as Sterac, Parallel 9 and many other names plies a powerful trade in funked up, gritty and soulful techno made the proper way.

The connection between Rachmad and Dekmantel reaches back many years via his frequent appearances at the Dekmantel Festival — he has two performances at the 2026 edition as well as sets at Dekmantel Selectors lined up later in the summer. The 3-6-9 EP lands ahead of an album and world tour that marks 45 years in service to electronic music, nodding to Rachmad's earliest roots in electro funk through to his day-one embrace of house and techno as it made its way across the Atlantic from Chicago and Detroit.

There's a rowdy, rave-spirited energy to the synth hook bucking its way through the centre of '3 Creation Energy', coming on in brassy tones laced with artful distortion while the drums dutifully jack the way they ought to. There's a more linear, pressure cooker quality to the tidal filter work guiding '6 Physical Manifestation' to its own energetic peaks, while '9 Completion and Delivery' surfs on coursing waves of arpeggiated lead lines before breaking through to the oceanic calm of grandiose pad tones.

There's no mystery to unpick here — this is quite simply techno perfection made with the instinct and experience of a master of the form, whose life is synonymous with every inch of the culture.

Brown Spirits are a super-heavy psychedelic three-piece band who play raw energetic super-charged psych rock heavily influenced by krautrock, freejazz and deep funk music from the 1970s that gives them a truly unique and highly addictive sound. The group record and mix their own music to ¼-
inch analogue tape at home maintaining a strictly DIY-ethic.

Brown Spirits are Tim Wold, Agostino Soldati and Ash Buscombe. The group are from the suburbs of Melbourne, Australia, home to an ever-growing
music scene that includes Amyl and the Sniffers, King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard, Surprise Chef, Tropical Fuck Storm and more.
The group have already released two superb critically-acclaimed album on Soul Jazz Records – ‘Cosmic Seeds’ and Solitary Transmissions’.
Soul Jazz Records are releasing three new albums from the Australian group on one day. All three albums are super-limited one-off special coloured
vinyl pressings of just 500 copies each that will all be deleted on the day of release.

These three albums were originally released (between 2017-2020) in long-deleted very short run-editions - either self-released in Australia or on an
indie German psych label. No copies of Brown Spirits #2 or Brown Spirits #3 are currently available anywhere in the world. Both of Brown Spirits two
earlier releases for Soul Jazz Records are also sold out on vinyl and these three super-limited special edition LPs will also sell out.

Namastrange and Pletnev debut on Earth Dog with the transatlantic tek of Desire Machine. Four supple rollers featuring a remix from label co-founder Jek.
Based separately in San Francisco and Barcelona, Namastrange and Pletnev collaborate sans studio to instead combine ideas virtually from afar. It’s a remarkable union in this respect; a fully-formed sound where heritage, influence and realities all collide to form an inimitable club-ready racket with Namastrange’s vocals sprinkled in to the mix. Sonically, this finds solace with Jek and djfix’s burgeoning tek stable of Earth Dog.
Desire Machine zones in from the parallel; its pulsating bassline grounding the evolving rhythm amidst Namastrange’s hypnotic mantra. Jek’s refix tramlines the shuffling groove to a psy-chotic break, with added dub delirium and prog attitude. Ego Collapse on the flip finds minimal solitude, gliding a dastard squelch with a sass’d up step. Splitting then gets it together for curtain call, a subversive pump with flirtatious persuasion that rides a phat tek bounce towards the finale.

DJ support from Soul Clap (Soul Clap Records) / Walla P (Voyage Funktastique) / DJ Notoya (Tokyo Condition)

Minoru “Hoodoo” Fushimi is something of a cult favorite among purveyors of obscure Japanese sounds from the 80's. Running parallel to the city pop phenomenon but existing distinctly outside of it, Fushimi's sound is a lo-fi blend of electro synth funk, drum machine beats, & early hip hop. His “Thanatos Of Funk” album lives on many a record collector's want list, and has already been

reissued more than once. Upstart imprint Tokyo Love Song, a spin-off of XL Middleton's MoFunk label, brings one of Fushimi's signature cuts, “In Praise Of Mitochondria,” to the 7” format for the first time ever. On the flip, Middleton himself teams up with Japan's leftfield modern funk favorites Milk Talk to deliver a remake of the song, entitled “Funkin Me Up.” This quasi-cover blends XL's signature squiggly funk sound with the quirky vocal stylings of Q.i, along with guitar & bass licks courtesy of Hairkid, the other half of Milk Talk.

Zweite EP zu Jeff Mills' neuer Videoserie "The Director's Cut Documentary" mit Interviews von Szeneleuten wie Künstlern, Club- und Plattenladenbetreibern zu Jeff Mills, seinen DJ-Skills und der Geschichte seines Axis-Labels. Die parallele 180g Vinyl-Serie enthält teils unveröffentlichte Raritäten aus den Axis-Archiven, oftmals remastered, und wird zum Jahresende in einer CD-Compilation gipfeln.

Bosconi Records returns with Tangled Waves Vol. 2, the second chapter of the series—this time expanding the concept into a four-artist VA, diving deep into progressive house and neo-trance territories while keeping that unmistakable timeless, old-school spirit alive.
Like shifting currents moving in parallel, Tangled Waves Vol. 2 brings together different voices, each following their own path while converging in the same flow—crafted for longevity, built for the dancefloor.

The EP opens with Fly High by DJ Glc, founder of Digging Deeper records and already known to the label through his contribution to the Home Cooked Beats compilation. Here he delivers an epic italo-infused progressive cut, driven by a classic rolling bassline and lifted by a futuristic arpeggio that bridges past and present. Hypnotic, warm, and undeniably effective—pure late-night material.
Next up is Strange Gift by rising artist Little Sea, founder of Sea Horse Records. A high-energy progressive groover with a clear nod to ‘90s classics, the track blends a punchy forward-moving bassline with bright melodic flashes and a sensual female vocal in the breakdown—making it a proper peaktime weapon with emotional depth.
On the flip side, Matteo Guarnieri (aka Rare Happiness) makes his Bosconi debut following a standout release on Kulture Galerie. His track Roller Disco Truck merges old and new with ease—leaning into a tech house framework with a distinct groove, textured stabs, and a subtle arpeggio that adds a psychedelic edge. A playful yet driving cut with strong character.
Closing the EP is Stargazing by Andrea Mera, also debuting on the label. A soft, mesmerizing progressive journey, the track unfolds with lush pads, a fluid atmosphere, and a gently evolving energy. With its warm 303 touches and emotional depth, it feels like a timeless closing moment—introspective, romantic, and built for those final hours on the floor.
With Tangled Waves Vol. 2, Bosconi introduces a new wave of artists while staying true to its roots—delivering four carefully crafted cuts that balance nostalgia and forward motion. Another essential addition for the bag, made to last.

Despite the thousands of kilometers between them, Monterrey and Medellín have always seemed to move in parallel. Both cities rise around guardian hills that watch over their people, and if you look closer, even the concrete that forms the backbone of each city traces back to these rugged metropolises.

The list of coincidences could go on—small, almost conspiratorial links that chance has woven between the two places. Adding another chapter to this unlikely connection is Regal86, who had already crossed the bridge once before to dive into the depths of Colombia’s “city of eternal spring.”

Doble Filo, his first full-length cut to vinyl, now becomes his latest calling card. The eighth release on Discos Nutabe’s catalog arrives with six tracks—six sharp-edged pieces that lay bare Regal86’s sonic marginality.

It’s a form of exclusion that isn’t imposed but chosen, a deliberate stance to sidestep the demand for exotica that still shapes much of Latin America’s electronic landscape. This is spicy, rough-edged techno—ruleless and unruly—driven by dense, clipped progressions that plunge you into a vortex masquerading as a rayado ritual.

There’s no overload of concept here, nor any caricature of the extravagant. This album simply delivers music built to tear through any club or dive, without false promises or unnecessary labels. If there’s one thing worth highlighting about Doble Filo as a whole, it’s the way it consistently—and almost implicitly—reasserts its core premise from start to finish: these techno tracks are meant to be played wherever the hell you want.

In a moment when oddities tend to be rewarded more than usual, Doble Filo doubles down on fundamentals, reclaiming the spirit of early electronic music and carrying it into an era where immediacy seems intent on blurring the honesty of those who shape the sound.

For Regal86, sonic hustle is the only thing that keeps his spirit steady.

Interdance returns in 2026 with its fourth vinyl release, continuing a journey that began in 2023 and further strengthening a distinct sonic identity rooted in hypnotic club experimentation and meticulous sound design. This time, the spotlight falls on Dani Labb, a true architect of sound, delivering four original tracks, including one reimagined by Z@p. The EP is deeply focused on repetition as a language of its own, building groove through carefully layered textures and surgical precision. Music designed to be fully experienced on sound systems capable of embracing the entire frequency spectrum, where every detail reveals its purpose.

The journey begins with Phase Two, a restrained yet immersive acid cut that slowly draws the listener into Dani Labb’s universe. Its progressive structure unfolds gradually, revealing tranceinfused nuances and vocal passages that feel like moving through levels inside a parallel dimension. A2 brings Nordark, following the narrative established by the opening track. Heavy low-end pressure, resonant highs, and a sonic architecture where drums retreat into the background, sketching rhythmic contours while the synth work takes full command. The B-side opens with Enbad, where tension rises and the energy becomes more forceful. The drums gain weight and the sound leans further into techno territory, while acid remains the guiding thread throughout. Closing the record, Z@p reshapes Enbad with his unmistakable signature of mystery, tension, and hypnotic arpeggios that push the experience to the edge. A producer who needs no introduction.

ALERT: BIG 90s ITALIAN RAVE COMP - a lot of very in demand tunes on here.

Navigators

Franco Falsini and the Interactive Test Universe

There are musicians who follow their time.

And then there are those who seem to move along a different trajectory—like navigators crossing sonic eras without ever truly belonging to any one of them. The story of Franco Falsini belongs to the latter. It is a story that begins long before raves, before techno, before the word “electronic” had even become a recognizable musical genre. A story that moves across continents, technologies, and sonic visions, eventually arriving at a small creative laboratory born in Italy in the early 1990s: Interactive Test. This compilation is a fragment of that universe. But as often happens with the hidden histories of music, understanding it requires going back. Far back.

The Beginning: Machines, Tape and Space

In the late 1960s Franco Falsini leaves Italy and moves to the United States. It is not merely a geographical journey—it is also a journey into a new idea of music. At the time, synthesizers are only just emerging from research laboratories. Multitrack tape recorders allow musicians to build entire sonic worlds on their own. Technology is still far from standardized: every studio is almost an experimental workshop. In Virginia, Falsini builds one of his own. Among cables, oscillators, electric guitars and reels of magnetic tape, a kind of music begins to take shape that resembles nothing else being made at the time. It is not simply rock, and it is not yet truly electronic. It moves somewhere in the space between the two. Out of these explorations emerges Sensations' Fix, the project through which Falsini releases a series of albums during the 1970s. Records that seem to come from a parallel dimension: cosmic landscapes, electronically treated guitars, synthesizers drifting like satellites. Many years later those albums would be rediscovered as visionary works. But at the time they were simply the result of relentless curiosity. A curiosity that would never fade.

The City That Never Sleeps

In the 1980s Falsini’s trajectory leads him to New York. The city is a sonic organism in constant transformation. In its clubs and recording studios something entirely new is beginning to take shape: music built from drum machines, sequencers, and samplers, created for the body before the living room. It is the dawn of modern dance culture. Falsini works as a sound engineer, producer and experimenter. From close range he observes electronic music transforming into a global language. Machines become more accessible, computers begin entering studios, and rhythm takes on an increasingly central role. Yet even in this phase Falsini does not simply follow what is happening. He absorbs. Observes. Reimagines. When he eventually returns to Italy, he brings back not only technical experience but also a clear vision: the conviction that electronic music is an open space, a territory still waiting to be explored.

Tuscany, Early 1990s

At the beginning of the 1990s something is happening in Italy as well. In clubs, abandoned industrial warehouses and clandestine parties, a new scene is beginning to form. It is rave culture: a spontaneous movement bringing together DJs, producers and listeners in a collective experience driven by rhythm, technology, and creative freedom. It is within this context that Franco Falsini, together with his brother Riccardo, creates Interactive Test.

The name almost sounds like a scientific experiment. In many ways, it is. Interactive Test does not emerge as a traditional record label. It begins as a laboratory—a place where ideas, sounds and musical identities can be tested and explored. Around the Falsini studio in Tuscany a small constellation of artists and DJs begins to gather, helping to shape the sound of Italy’s emerging electronic scene. Among them are Andrea Giuditta, Francesco Farfa, Gabry Fasano, Roby Mastelloni, Roby J and many others. Each brings a different musical sensibility. But they all share the same intuition: electronic music is not a genre. It is a language.

The Laboratory of Identities

One of the most fascinating aspects of the Interactive Test universe is its constant play with identity. Franco Falsini releases music under several different names: Open Space, Youth Wave, Agent Fylfoyt, Man Myth Magic. These are not simply pseudonyms.

They are different sonic perspectives, as if each project were a window opening onto a parallel musical universe. Open Space, for example, explores more atmospheric and visionary territories. Youth Wave moves between electronic groove and club-oriented rhythms. Other projects experiment with digital psychedelia or hypnotic techno textures. Interactive Test becomes something more than a label. it becomes an ecosystem.

Domestic Machines, Infinite Worlds

Looking back today at the technology used in those productions, one might almost smile. Many tracks were created on Amiga computers, MIDI sequencers and analog synthesizers wired together in home studios—tools that appear modest when compared to today’s digital possibilities.

Yet precisely these limitations became a creative force. Every sound had to be built, shaped and reinvented. Sequences developed slowly, almost like living organisms. The tracks did not always follow traditional dance music structures; often they felt like genuine sonic journeys. Music built from space.

A Hidden Constellation

Many of the records released by Interactive Test in the 1990s remained for years almost invisible objects, circulating quietly among DJs, collectors, and devoted listeners. Yet it is precisely this underground existence that helped preserve them. Listening again today, one perceives something rare: the feeling of music that does not fully belong to its own time. Music suspended between different eras. Perhaps because it comes from a vision that both precedes and transcends trends.

Continuing the Journey

Looking at Franco Falsini’s entire path—from the electronic psychedelia of Sensations’ Fix to the rave culture of the 1990s—a surprisingly coherent line emerges.

A line defined by exploration.

Each project, each pseudonym, each record appears as a new route within the same great sonic voyage.

Interactive Test was one of its stations.

A laboratory.
A community.
A creative platform.

This compilation gathers some of its traces.

Not as a simple archive of the past, but as a map of a musical territory that continues to expand even today.

Like all true sonic explorations.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.