Search:pressure fe

Ecstatic’s dreamiest cadets bliss out on a new album of acoustic and electric guitar, harmonium and synth tapestries, notably nestling a Romance cameo within a genteel toggle of atmospheric pressure.

Back on (side) road after releasing quietly acclaimed kosmische gem ‘I Had too Much to Dream Last Night’ back in 2021 and the lysergic lushness of ‘Listen to the Sky’ a couple of years later, Celestial suggest a more sublime return to earth with the shine-eyed wonders of ‘I Can Hear the Grass Grow’, an album that soothes to the supine in eight shimmering parts of pearlescent melodic motifs marbling harmonious backdrops intended to tenderly comb nerves straight.

The duo take their role as seductive sandmen with a curious melodic wit that leaves something to the imagination whilst nudging it along the album’s narrative thread. A courtly flamenco lick flickers in opener ‘The Endless Stair’, one of the most restrained recordings we've heard from the childhood friends; blessed with just a little reverb and echo, as if a mic's been lowered into some dimly lit basement while Celestial puzzle out mystifying, interlocking harmonies. It hits a mid-point between John Fahey's raga-inspired Americana and Vini Reilly's rain-soaked Northern blues - the emotion throbs from every note.

Celestial's music is never too polished, giving it the fuzzy, uninhibited flair of a long-lost mail order private press and instilling it with a level of humanity that's rare to discover in the new-new age. Even when mysterious labelmate Romance turns up to ornament 'Mermaid Boulevard' with backmasked electronics, it's their low-slung Ry Cooder-esque guitar/bass that provides the narrative anchor, while the title track and spongiform analog textures of ‘Song For The rainy Season’ dial it right down to a Harmonia-via-BoC pastoral sublime. Vini Reilly and Eno’s influence is most surely felt on the swaying elegance of ‘Sweet Sleep, Angel Mild’, with a central motif that lingers on the mind long after it’s stopped playing, whilst their closing couplet perfectly resolves the cycle with a melancholic kiss-off for the ages.

Crooked Colours present Dirt Road Gold.

The fourth album from the prolific Australian outfit, the record signifies the next chapter for the acclaimed Crooked Colours; dreamy, poignant and unapologetically emotionally vulnerable.

As a body of work Crooked Colours (Philip Slabber) effortlessly genre-hops, from alternative euphoric builds to upbeat melodies to electronic stabs alongside his instantly recognisable heartbreaking vocals, stacked to perfection.

Key singles ‘Pink Limo’, ‘Come Thru’ and ‘I’m All Yours (feat. Georgi Kay)’ upholding the original elements Crooked Colours have become known for; yet with a modern 2026 approach proving an ever-evolving sonic escape.

Title track ‘Dirt Road Gold’ steps outside the traditional Crooked Colours sound; guitar plucks, raspy vocals and train rhythm snare. Truly highlighting Slabber’s storytelling ability in that space.

Bookended by ‘Oxford’ and ‘Honey Dog’ encapsulating the Crooked Colours aesthetic as a whole, delicate instrumentation and catchy sing-a-long hooks.

Leo Gibbon returns to Mudline with barbed, a six-track suite of dust-worn, sample-driven constructions pieced together from a balcony while travelling. Built from fragments that retain the emotional weight of their origins, the EP finds Gibbon paring his sound back to its essentials, letting cracked loops, negative space and tactile percussion carry a quiet sense of intimacy. There's a subtle tension throughout, music suspended between memory and movement, where worn textures and carefully preserved imperfections become part of the composition itself.

James Massiah appears on the record with a characteristically measured performance, his delivery drawing on the cadence and phrasing of archived poet freestyles, less spoken word than an act of excavation, recalling a lineage of recorded voices whose authority comes from rhythm, restraint and lived experience. His presence folds seamlessly into the EP's weathered textures, becoming another fragment in Gibbon's collage rather than a conventional guest appearance.

The first half drifts through reflective, inward-looking terrain before the second side gradually opens towards the dancefloor, never abandoning the emotional pull that defines the record. Even at its most club-focused, barbed favours understated pressure over obvious peaks, allowing atmosphere and texture to carry as much weight as rhythm. Mastered by Miles Whittaker, every grain, scrape and imperfection is left intact, balancing grit with clarity and reinforcing Mudline's instinct for raw, emotionally resonant club music that feels as honest as it does functional.

Pressure is the medium of wind players. Wind instruments all sound thanks to pressure differentials, whether that’s the rush of wind over a lip plate or a steady, buzzing exhalation through pursed lips. Ka Baird and Chris Ryan Williams (HxH) are wind players well- schooled in the power of using pressure and movement to amplify the mystery of an invisible force animating a metal tube. They augment their instruments, flute and trumpet respectively, with electronics, sometimes obscuring the acoustic sound source, sometimes making it hyperreal. Flutters of lip and tongue slither over the listener’s ear, and sustained tones become a dense fog, pushing on other kinds of visceral, emotional pressure points.

On Enthalpy, Baird and Williams’ first album as a duo, the energy they conjure feels barely contained, the pressure built up to a breaking point before spilling out in multiple directions at various speeds. They borrow the title from thermodynamics, referring to the total energy of a system based on its pressure and volume. The music flies out in bursts; it seeps and oozes, flows with intention. It is an incredibly rhythmic work without any hint of meter, full of sounds that punctuate with the thud of a dart hitting a bullseye. Williams’ capability to conjure swirling atmospherics, as well as his remarkable ability to pull fragments of melody from the haze, fit puzzle-like into Baird’s exclamations and the eruption of electronics that often dovetail them. The duo draws on tones from nearly the entire range of human hearing, from nimble but bulbous throbs of sub-bass to pinprick flickers of ultra-high end.

The sessions that produced Enthalpy were completely improvised, showcasing a degree of mind-meld that belies each participant’s thrill at approaching the unknown. This isn’t a casual conversation, but an omnidirectional tangle that ties and reties itself into new knots as the album progresses. Williams and Baird have both become ubiquitous presences throughout the New York City experimental music communities, collaborating with innumerable others and learning how their unique approaches work in tandem with similarly expansive thinkers and players. Even in the album’s most spacious moments, there’s a tension between the feeling of being unmoored and yet completely locked in, like the abyss is just one more river to cross. They ford it together before moving on to the next idea in lock step.

For the listener, Enthalpy is often felt in the body as much as it reverberates within the ears. We’re tossed from side to side, made to shoulder the impact of detonating electronics, absorbing these sounds with the feet, gut, and crown. Baird reaches into the back of their throat for guttural growls, and we can almost feel the scratch. As we tread the border of the synthesthetic, it's a reminder of the physical nature of sound, that the space between our ears and the speakers is its own enthalpic system of energy conduction. Move with it, let it move you, and see how it feels.

The method is instability.

— Violeta Garcia & Hora Lunga

Violeta García & Hora Lunga return with 4ever, their second album and the follow-up to I’ll Wait For You In The Car Park. Released in 2025 on -ous, their debut received airplay on BBC and NTS and was selected for Bandcamp’s Best Experimental Music year-end list. 4ever picks up where that record left off: in ordinary moments, small scenes and the strange emotional weight of being somewhere between places. But here, these moments are stretched across a much larger, darker screen. A night flight, a terminal, a bad connection. When too many feelings are carried from one place to another, everyday situations begin to feel epic, empty, or apocalyptic.

Built from García’s cello and Hora Lunga’s synths, samples and field recordings, the album pushes further into emotion, letting fragile melodies, orchestral cello gestures, heavy low-end and compressed noise melt into something both dystopian and strangely familiar. Its warmth is not meant to be an escape from this world, but something that appears within it. Acoustically, the album lives through the closeness of the materials, the way sounds stay with each other, and in the feeling that even the most unstable moments are being carried together. The album presents itself in scenes that fade into each other: quiet melodic fragments that are interrupted and restarted, unpredictable changes of direction, held together by an inevitable melody, a bright synth harmony unfolding into an almost orchestral cello arrangement. Later, a broken organ-like sample turning in circles, cello melodies appearing as if they were trying to remember a song that never belonged to one voice alone. An endless loop that is placed under changing lights, briefly opening into emotional chords, then slipping back into emptiness.

It is this instability that Violeta García and Hora Lunga place at the center of their collaboration. They do not decorate the cello with production, or place electronics around an acoustic centre. They explain: “On 4ever, we become part of the same unstable surface. What holds the record together is not resolution, but the trust in staying together as things distort, overload, disappear and return.”

Violeta García, an Argentinian cellist known for her solo work and for her role in the punk band Blanco Teta, brings the instrument close to the body, as melody, pressure, texture, noise and sudden emotional weight. García has brought her distinct musical voice to KEXP, Rewire, Le Guess Who?, Bad Bonn Kilbi, Silent Green, TransMusicales, Roskilde and more.

Hora Lunga, a Zurich-based producer and composer working across unstable song forms, treats electronics less as a frame than as a weather system: something that can hold a scene together, distort it or make it disappear. In recent years, his compositions have ranged from experimental song forms, sound performances, ensemble compositions and film music. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

Entre Nous is the debut album from Eden Aurelius. A beautifully poised collection for Short Span. A gorgeous showcase of her singular talent within a sparkling scene. Recorded in Brooklyn, NY, this is an innovative, and graceful body of music that feels truly contemporary.

This album felt important for us to have out in time for summer. Emerging out of the heat, a feeling brought alive with the sun. Music that evolves throughout seasons and carries a spectrum of emotional range.

Entre Nous is tight, but expansive. Its depth and complexity is languid but has gravitational pull. Like much of her work, this record feels so refreshing because its tracks are both sensory and illusory tones built in gossamer and transitory layers of satin. They have a remarkable sense of presence and pressure - floating rhythmically without sharp edges. There is guidance and gentle control that lead throughout the record.

The B side opens with “Ion” featuring Pontiac Streator. The song is formed out of a textural haze. A glistening, iridescent light appears, broken through fabric, projecting a blurred image onto the surface nearby. A hypnotic and evocative collaboration. The shared connection between the two artists’ command of rhythm and ambient language.

Mastered and cut by Mike Grinser at Manmade.

Art by Lucas Dupuy.

Gi Gi describes his process as “dubwise sampledelia.” It begins with fragments and ends somewhere else entirely, destabilizing its source material until it stops pointing backward. A borrowed sound, looped and bent, eventually forgets where it came from; it stops referencing anything but itself.

This liquid sensibility shaped his earlier work, music that hovered between drift and propulsion, suggesting the dance floor without fully stepping onto it. Presence was implied, edges stayed soft. The center was always there, but diffused like mist on a screen.

With In Lieu, that center comes into focus. Half written in Texas, half in Australia, the shift isn’t simply geographic, but internal. The record moves with a coiled, anticipatory energy; the drums arrive with more force and the bass organizes the room instead of melting into it. It's dense with the feeling of more bodies in the frame. Textures still smear and refract, but they move around a clearer axis.

Where past records circled their core, these inhabit it, pulling closer to the body. “Some Of” and “Arque” lean into low-end pressure without abandoning his instinct for drift. "Pink Dirt" circles around mechanical drums and dizzying vocal chops, head-down and visceral. Elsewhere, voices gain newfound contour, materializing in “Downswept” with intimate musings and nearly forming a lead vocal on the title track before dissolving again.

In Lieu moves with a newfound confidence, compressing inward, sounding closer to the source of its own pulse.

Some recordings herald the future in ways that are impossible to see in real time. Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር), by the artist Teodros Makonnen, also known as Teddy Mak, is one of those. Today, electronic sounds, synthesizers, and digital production are taken for granted in Ethiopian music, but in the early 1980s, they were novelties that polarized opinion. Even to this day, the story of Teodros Makonnen’s legacy has never been properly told. He played a decisive role in defining the sound of the digital era of Ethiopian music that emerged in the 1980s and beyond, both as a keyboard player and as a producer, songwriter, performer, and sound designer.

Ethiopian music was at a crossroads in the early 1980s. Much like music in the rest of the world, technology and automation heralded either a quantum leap in musical development or the annihilation of musicianship, depending on who you’d ask. The changes were incremental nonetheless, but with the benefit of hindsight one can clearly see that the changes meant different things in different contexts. Drum machines and electric organs came to replace many hotel bands because, all of a sudden, one musician could control drums, melody, and accompaniment. Teodros was one of the first musicians in Ethiopia to explore the possibilities this opened up.

Teodros’ father, Captain Makonnen Beri, was a chief pilot at Ethiopian Airlines and a music enthusiast at that. This would prove important to his development, as Makonnen brought back a piano from Germany, which would lead to the first steps in Teodros’ long musical career. Captain Makonnen’s work as Head of Flight Operations and as a pilot exposed him to the wider world that was far from commonplace for most Ethiopians. In a house where music captivated the whole family, the piano gave Teodros’ talent an outlet. Not only was a piano at home rare in Ethiopian households, his father also brought an Indian teacher to their home to teach Teodros and his brother, Captain Samuel Makonnen, music theory (solfeggio or ear training) and piano. Teodros and his youngest brother, the late great Dereje, a member of both the legendary Ibex Band and the Ethiopian reggae group Dallol, took up music from that point onward, with Teodros beginning to develop his proficiency at the age of eight. His father encouraged him to practice tirelessly at home, and Teodros later received musical schooling at the German School in Addis Ababa.

His obvious talent led to studies and formal education at the Yared School of Music, followed by continued studies in American jazz at Northern Virginia Community College in Virginia. Teodros cut his teeth professionally in his mid-teens, not only as a keyboardist, but also as an arranger for the Wabi Shebelle and Dahlak bands in the 1970s. He mastered electronic sequencing early, rising to prominence through the midnight recording sessions held during the military curfew. The pressures imposed by the curfew required precise and disciplined recordings, and Teodros delivered just that. This, in turn, led to collaborations with iconic artists such as Mulatu Astatke, Aster Aweke, Menelik Wossenachew, Tilahun Gessesse, Mahmoud Ahmed, and Alemayehu Eshete.

In those days, he sat in as a keyboardist with the Dahlak Band when Dawit Yifru took a hiatus to study in Russia, and also with the Ethiostar Band. He secured a residency at the Wabi Shebelle Hotel with the Shebele Band, together with Zelalem Tadese (drums), later succeeded by Elias Bekele, Mulugeta Hailu (bass), Teferi ‘Bibisha’ Mengesha (guitar), Kumelachew G/Selassie (trumpet), and Teshome Deneke (saxophone). A friendly competition developed between the bands associated with the Ras Hotel (the Ibex Band), Ghion Hotel (the Dahlak Band), and Wabi Shebelle Hotel (the Shebele Band). The music scene at Wabi Shebelle saw teenagers commanding the spotlight in an industry otherwise dominated by musicians of an older generation.

At the Wabi Shebelle Hotel, Teodros met a diplomat from Saudi Arabia and later visited him at his home in Addis Ababa, a meeting that had unexpected musical consequences. The man owned a Yamaha double-deck keyboard. That evening, they recorded Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር) in one take. This recording, a cornerstone in the early digital sound of Ethiopian music, came about almost by chance, simply because Teodros got the opportunity. Traditional Ethiopian songs were cast in a wholly electronic style.

Once freed from backing duties, Teodros’ keyboards could explore dreamlike soundscapes that took Ethiopian music in new directions. Even though the cassette contained well-known Ethiopian songs, they were given highly original arrangements, performed on an electric organ with drum machine backing and rhythm patterns that left the listener with suggestive, lingering sounds. “Libesh Kabashen” (also known as “Anchi Bale Game”) and “Odu Gol Golesa” wrap you in the very stuff that dreams are made of.

Originally released on cassette only, this recording exudes a mystique that surpasses even some of the most obscure Ethiopian recordings of the day. It remained more or less unknown outside of Ethiopia until now. Some of the tracks, like “Addis Fikir,” are permeated with an almost naive buoyancy, free-floating sounds that lost contact with the ground the moment they were conceived. Others, like “Meche New Hageren Yemayew” and “Lelitu Alnega Alegn,” carry a moodier, quirkier timbre, with pulsating rhythms in the background. Yet even the darker pieces contain an unmistakable wave, something essentially Ethiopian. If most recordings of Teodros’s contemporaries at the time were teeming with atmosphere, his songs seem instead at home in the stratosphere, almost ethereal. Some of the music here could be filed under “lullabies,” were it not for the recurring, almost brooding feeling that engulfs the listener on the aforementioned tracks. You could easily be forgiven for drifting into a blissful haze as the music washes over you.

Up to the advent of electronic music production, Ethiopia was totally dominated by big bands on the one hand, and small groups on the other. The former were tied to large institutions such as the military, the latter emerged from the entertainment industry, in hotel bars and nightclubs. These groups were commercially driven, and bands ultimately had to foster a mercenary approach to employment, albeit not to the passion for music. In the light of this, Teodros’ musical legacy can be seen in two ways. On the one hand, he is a key player in Ethiopian music from the 1970s onwards, leaving an indelible mark through hundreds of compositions and arrangements, including soundtracks for numerous documentary films and advertisements for different companies. On the other hand, the way he and others employed electronics brought Ethiopian music onto a fork in the road.

The replacement of traditional instruments with electronic equipment was seen as impending doom by some. Others, like Teodros, saw new avenues for performance, production, and creativity. Just as later producers like Abegasu Shiota of Admas, Teodros was a trailblazer who opened paths that it took Ethiopian music as a whole more than a decade to rush into. The hotel scene had already been pushed toward electronic music by financial necessity and cost-cutting. Today’s revived global interest in Ethiopian music from the seventies and eighties, alongside a broader resurgence, has changed the reasons for using digital means of music production. They have become tools for musical dreaming. This is where the dreaming began.

LMajor makes his Over/Shadow debut with Deep Deadly Dub, delivering four heavyweight cuts rooted in classic jungle, breakbeat and drum & bass.

From the deep, rolling title track and the rave-ready Bun Down The Place to Screamer with Gilsun and the soulful Be My Light featuring Amy Kisnorbo, this is a versatile release with plenty of dancefloor pressure.

Originally produced over two decades ago, Wormhole returns fully remastered for 2026, pairing the unmistakable sound of DJ Quest & Odissi with a fresh remix from Spanish breakbeat heavyweights Destroyers.
The original remains everything that made early Cyberfunk stand out: deep rolling basslines, futuristic atmospheres and precision-engineered breaks that still sound ahead of their time. Alongside it, Destroyers inject modern dancefloor energy, tightening the groove with their trademark Spanish breaks sound while keeping the character of the original firmly intact.
This is another key release from the Cyberfunk vault, bridging the classic Bassline Breaks era with today's generation of producers and DJs.

Tracklisting
A. Wormhole (2026 Remaster)
A timeless Cyberfunk classic featuring Odissi, combining hypnotic melodies, heavy low-end pressure and rolling breakbeats that continue to work on modern systems.
AA. Wormhole (Destroyers Remix)
Destroyers deliver a contemporary club weapon, adding their signature percussion, energy and production polish while respecting the original's unmistakable identity.
——

Never Sleep charity tape series makes its way to the beautiful North for a celebration of community, art and 20yrs of hard work.

EBM maven Krysko explores customary Mancuinian joy with a lost mix at one of the UK's most important club series Warehouse Project for a 20yr anniversary celebration. Staggered 'Jackin' impetus, expansive rhythmic curveballs and long blend fader oscillation alongside effervescent pacing is at the heart of this live recording.

Recorded some time in 2007/8 from the original Store Street site and is a masterclass in Dance music comprehension slow building with vinyl only white labels, lost edits and rotary syncopated dub pressure. Krysko shows the restraint it takes to make a club feel intimately monumental. The Warehouse Project is a long standing hub in the North's ever growing ambitions for the UK's dance continuum. Flawlessly curating two decades of ground breaking music and heralding a return
to silo rave architecture.

All proceeds go to Papryus UK who help with suicide prevention across the country for 50yrs

2026 Repress

UK dub classic dating from 1994 and originally appearing on the Sound `n’ Pressure label.

A massive highly sought-after sound system favourite from the 90’s with a dangerous bassline.

Featuring four mixes, with sound system legend Aba Shanti guesting on melodica,

After years of steadily building momentum within the deeper side of drum & bass, Monika now delivers his long-awaited debut album, How We Saw Forever, landing this August on Spearhead Records.

UK-born and now based in New Zealand, Monika has developed a sound that blends deep rolling grooves, soulful textures, delicate musicality and moments of genuine emotional weight. Across the album he moves effortlessly between late-night introspection, euphoric warmth and darker, more experimental territory, showcasing an artist fully confident in his own sonic identity.

Having already made a strong impression through previous releases on Spearhead and appearances across the label’s 20-year anniversary campaign, How We Saw Forever feels like a major step forward creatively. From the haunting beauty of “What Turns Your World” featuring Oktae, through to the nostalgic rave energy of “Mango Pop” and the weightier pressure of “Syndicate”, the album captures Monika’s ability to balance emotion, atmosphere and dancefloor impact without ever feeling formulaic.

At its core, How We Saw Forever is an album about atmosphere, memory and emotion, music designed equally for solitary headphone moments and packed dancefloors at sunrise. There’s a cinematic thread running throughout the project, but also a raw honesty that gives the album its real depth.

Speaking about the album, Monika says:
“This project became a reflection of so many different seasons of life over the last few years. Some tracks came from really emotional places, others were written purely from joy and escapism, but together they tell the story of where I’ve been creatively and personally. I wanted the album to feel immersive, something people could disappear into.”

Released via BCee’s Spearhead Records — a label long celebrated for championing soulful and emotionally rich drum & bass. How We Saw Forever marks another exciting chapter for both Monika and the wider Spearhead family.

Mutant präsentiert in Zusammenarbeit mit Back Lot Music und Focus Features voller Stolz die großartige Filmmusik des Oscar®-Preisträgers Volker Bertelmann zum Kinofilm „Pressure“.

After making waves in the underground with their first release, psychedelic techno explorations from Winkles, A Sky Full Of Numbers head to the shoreline with a five tracker of misty electronica from Japan’s The Rituals, the new collaboration between Tasoko and DOLTZ. Across acclaimed releases on Explore, Bitta, and Delsin, the duo have separately explored deep techno, ambient, acid house and IDM, showcasing innovative sound design and spacious, understated grooves. For AFSON, the duo apply their unique point of view at a lower tempo, pulling away from the peak time to deliver a shadowy journey through dewy electronics.
Opening transmission 503M feels like tuning into a damaged frequency somewhere beyond the cloud line. Misty lead synths slither through blown circuitry while buzzing sequences and short-circuiting percussion crackle against purring bass pressure below.
There’s an eerie electricity in the atmosphere, as if the track’s been exposed to too much heat and left glowing softly in the dark. From the opening bars, The Rituals instantly establish their ability to make techno feel both mechanical and hallucinatory.
Ugan sees the duo descend deeper into the haze. Reverb-drenched synth motifs hover like distant lights through thick fog while a propulsive dub bassline locks into loose electro-funk rhythms beneath. There are echoes of hauntological electronics and early IDM experiments here, but The Rituals avoid nostalgia entirely, steering the track instead towards something crepuscular and alive.
Stepping out of the shadows, Broken Frog Lamp pushes forward on a rolling rhythmic framework as melodies slowly force their way through layers of sea mist and static interference. Atmospheric without losing momentum, the track balances submerged emotional weight with hypnotic forward motion.
The mood softens but never dissipates on Salty Air, a damp and dewy excursion into dubbed-out psychedelia. Rainfall ambience, skittering stone percussion and swelling pads fold around sliding sub bass and filtered stabs, while jazzy cymbals and syncopated hats gently pull the track forward, as the condensation clings to the hardware.
Closing cut “Night, Castle, Reflection” drifts into darker territories, where redlining drums and pulsing low-end pressure throb beneath thick layers of saturated texture. Woozy synth work smears against tightly controlled rhythms, creating an immersive and slightly uneasy atmosphere that closes the EP at its most introspective point.
Taken as a whole, the EP transports you into the midnight hour, when the comforting embrace of stillness can easily nudge you towards hallucination, dissolving the boundaries between dream state and dancefloor hypnosis.

With S.I.K. (Sociedad Internacional de la Kumbia), Conjunto Media Luna maps a constellation of sounds, friendships, and underground connections stretching across Colombia, Mexico, the United States, and beyond.
Produced in Bogotá between 2024 and 2026 by Iván Medellín, the album draws energy from rebajada culture, low-end frequencies, vinyl obsession, rap, and the hypnotic pull of cumbia. Accordion melodies, sampled fragments, drum machines, and sound system pressure intertwine throughout the record, creating a world where tradition is constantly reimagined through contemporary urban culture.
Featuring contributions from artists such as La Gallo 3:20, Turbo Sonidero, Amantes del Futuro, Mextape, León Pardo, Mismo Perro, and Hito de Piedra, S.I.K. unfolds as a dialogue between scenes that have spent years exchanging records, ideas, aesthetics, and frequencies.
The artwork comes from Mateo Rivano, one of the key visual architects of Bogotá's experimental tropical underground, whose imagery perfectly captures the album's blend of street mythology, sonic futurism, and tropical psychedelia.
Part sound system manifesto, part love letter to the global kumbia underground, S.I.K. is dedicated to everyone expanding the culture from their own corner of the map, through music, dance, graphics, fashion, and noise.

Edition of 600 copies, not sealed

Made with Love by Little Beat More 2026
Published by Little Beat More

Manonmars’ 3rd album sees him at his most amorphous and psychedelic, at points sharper and laser focused, and at others more blurred and impressionistic than his previous records. Many of the core players remain the same, all of the production is once again handled by O$VMV$M (the duo of Neek and Amos Childs of Jabu) while Paulina Korobkiewicz (also of Young Echo) makes a return handling both the album’s cover artwork and contributing a series of diaristic field recordings and voice notes.

‘The project references movies, cartoons, fictional characters and video games, among other things. The album title is open to interpretation but all of these elements are forms of visual entertainment which have their own unique ability to transcend things like language barriers and cultural divides. The visual element is key because those details bridge the gap on a communicative level.’ - Manonmars

The album blends abstract, blurred braggadocio with more immediate personal details such as on ‘Volcanic Shield’ a posse cut of sorts featuring Bristol improv luminary Dali de Saint Paul and Franco Franco (½ of cyborg rap duo Kinlaw & Franco Franco) - where Mars recalls;

‘Memories of brighter days, happy meal hit the spot
Mum was spinning vinyl playing Super Ape or Pressure Drop
I would spend the weekend with the Turkish mandem on the block
single parent household, mum was studying or on the job
money came and went always was an on and off
made it back from school time to see what’s on the box’


The beat fades away to leave one of Korobkiewicz’s recordings of Mars’ mum talking about her life in London in the 80s, spending her money on reggae records as an ambient chord fades in like an echo of a jungle intro – stretching out as a link between generations of UK music.

The production by and large is brighter and more kinetic than earlier Manonmars records – with O$VMV$M drawing on everything from modern underground rap and drill through to jazz and acid ambient passages.

London is also a central character here, bustling and constantly shifting, either when bleeding in through field recordings, or as an ever-present backdrop in the lyrics;

‘I’m a fusion of Tippa Irie and Topper Harley
Hit the target like the black Atari
I dropped a tab now shit’s A Scanner Darkly
Got the munchies, Imma yam a sarnie
Pour the Wray and Ting like man at Carni
Exit Peckham Rye and turn left, walk past Hannah Barry
Get your (w)raps up like its January’

‘I've always considered London my home, despite spending some time in the South West of England too. My mum had been living in London for 25 years (...) That was a pretty big deal in some ways because it removed us from multicultural society during the period which overlapped with my teenage years. (...) I never got used to how quiet it was in the countryside (...) Bristol was the closest city to where we lived and it was through travelling there and making connections that I became involved in making music and playing gigs.’ - Manonmars

Mars’ practice as a painter (under his given name Jack Martyn Richardson) and photographer also loom heavy over the album, he cites Paul Verhoeven, Abdul Mati Klariwein and H.R Giger as influences – as well as Miles Davis, Drakeo the Ruler and DJ Rashad.

As with much of Richardson’s work the raps at times feel blurred to a point of almost inscrutability, creating a distance between the audience and himself. A process that ties into his visual work and the way he experiences the world as mainly abstract colour without his glasses. He explores this further in an ongoing visual collaboration with Korobkiewicz, ‘Fun and Games’ which serves as a visual archive of one of London's largest and oldest travelling fairgrounds.

‘I was diagnosed with very severe short-sightedness at the age of seven. I remember my early formative years as visually blurred. Some of my photography reflects this experience of partial vision and uncertainty, referencing memory and perception rather than fixed representation.’

Manonmars’ first public outing as a rapper was at a Young Echo radio event, broadcast shambolically from a practice room just off Jamaica street, Bristol in 2011, as much as things have moved on both stylistically and in terms of focus - strong links back to the city remain a key foundation throughout the collaborations and guest appearances.

‘I have no problem with being an outsider looking in. One of the things I enjoy about London is the anonymity (...) it's easy to be a stranger here when so much is happening. I feel like thats more valuable than people may realise.’

Detroit's mythic architect Walt J surfaces on Lost Control 2097 with three cuts steeped in deep emotional drama and late-night intensity. 'Resonance' lands with razor-sharp drums and weightless, ethereal chords, elevated by Prince of Hydro's poetic vocal transmissions that feel like signals from another realm. 'Love Petals' resurfaces from Walt's vault, a reworked version of an already transcendent classic, refined, deeper, and glowing with subterranean energy. 'Origin' channels the spirit of Larry Heard-style melodies while anchoring itself firmly in the grit and gravity of the Motor City. Prince of Hydro closes it out by activating full ultra-sonar mode, delivering a remix that drags you into crushing ocean depths where the pressure builds and something immense is about to break through.

Techno innovator Regent has already made his mark on Mutual Rytm with two previous outings highlighting his refined but powerful style. The Berlin-based artist joins the dots between bold percussive grooves and distinct cerebral layers, with his productions continuing to receive wide support from DJs and tastemakers across the globe. This return to SHDW's flourishing label features one of his most anticipated tracks to date - a truly timeless warehouse anthem that marks an exciting new chapter for both Regent and the label.

'Permean' is a raw but sophisticated piece of techno that merges powerful drums with hypnotic pads. It brims with surgical sound design. While the groove is fierce, a haunting melodic touch adds a soft and deeply emotional edge
as Regent explores the tension between permanence and decay, delivering a timeless and essential track.

The first remix comes from Steve Rachmad under his Sterac guise. This version channels the spirit of his early work - pure, stripped-back techno at its finest. Tightly programmed and deep, it features burrowing bass and impish synths dancing up top to occupy the mind while the body moves.

Next comes a remix from one of the most innovative producers of our time, Rene Pawlowitz, under his Head High alias, a project reserved for his more house leaning sounds. His 'Power Tool Mix' brings his signature loopy style with thudding kicks, raw hi-hats and twitchy synths - already shaping up to be a summer hit. Pawlowitz then steps out under his renowned techno alias Shed. His 'Forceful Pressure Mix' is a blistering and unrelenting weapon, with rusty textures and powerful bass locking you in its glitches, unresolved loops and booming low end.

Keith Freund’s music occupies a space where careful musicianship and homebrewed experimentation meet and shake hands. On “Window Left Open,” spacious melodies drift through dense fields of electronic activity: saxophone lines rise above buzzing circuitry, percussion flickers at the edges of the frame, and clustered glitch textures dart through the music like insects in tall summer grass. Every sound feels vividly animated, a charged part of the same mercurial ecosystem.

Freund’s talent lies in balancing warmth and unpredictability with remarkable ease. Patient motifs recall the exploratory spirit of early folktronica, while bit-reduced textures, degraded loops, and idiosyncratic synthesis techniques continually reshape the terrain beneath them. Rather than treating acoustic and electronic elements as opposing forces, Freund allows them to intermingle until distinctions dissolve, creating compositions that reward close listening while retaining immediate warmth. This record finds Freund working with a fully formed vocabulary that is truly his own, transforming glitch, melody, improvisation, and atmosphere into songs that are both fundamentally curious and disarmingly engaging.

2026 Repress
Moving Pressure marks its fifth release, and the first one to stretch across a double vinyl with full sleeve artwork. It isn't framed as an album, yet its sequencing carries a narrative weight that lingers between immediacy and introspection.
MP05 welcomes on board Australian producer Connor Wall, whose work fuses tightly wound rhythm and immersive atmosphere, balancing precision with a sense of openness. His sound is rooted in the physical pull of the dancefloor, yet drawn toward zones of suspension and elusion. And Moving Pressure 05 captures that duality very clearly. Momentum sets the tone from the outset - taut drum programming, metallic accents, and structures that build energy in decisive bursts. There's a sense of propulsion that feels engineered for peak hours, exuding a tightening grip on the floor. Gradually, tension loosens up, stretching patterns into spirals, layering vaporous pads and resonant low-end that opens a more interior space.
Together, the two arcs trace Wall's range with clarity: body and mind, force and dissolve. Rather than presenting opposites, they reveal different angles of the same language. An exploration of density, atmosphere, and the subtle thresholds between the two.

3FD hits the emotional double-digit landmark with 3FD10 and welcomes t3x3 to the label, who delivers four cuts of pure, unadulterated swing and high-pressure energy. Oldboy on remix duties!

Terence Fixmer Reimagines Chris Liebing & Luke Slater's 'Double Split' for CLR. Fixmer's remixes of Liebing/Slater's collaboration from the former's 'Evolver' LP release on 31st July.

Terence Fixmer has delivered two remixes of Chris Liebing and Luke Slater's 'Double Split' track, one of a handful of collaborations on Liebing's first-ever solo LP, 'Evolver', which was released in March this year. Having contributed to the LP as a member of The Alte Stuben Modular Ensemble, a super-group featuring Liebing, Daniel Miller, and Pascal Gabriel, Fixmer is a fitting choice to remix 'Double Split'.

Fixmer has been evolving his sound for more than 25 years. From deep and mind-bending to experimental and soulful, he is a visionary who has been hugely prolific, with many standout LPs and EPs on labels such as Mute Records, Novamute, Ostgut Ton, and Planete Rouge Records.

Fixmer's first 'Double Split' remix is inspired by the energy of the original, but focused on dubbier, hypnotic vibes. Strident drums and clattering percussion are stark by design, but smoky vocals and eerie synths hang in the air, bringing a bleak human futurism over all-consuming bass. Then comes the Melting Mind rework, which is boiled down to a handful of key elements, not least the original's penetrating acid line. It's an immersive, late-night dive that locks you in a state of constant motion and unrelenting pressure. The original from Chris Liebing and Luke Slater, a dark and futuristic roller with automated drums and layers of rusty synths encircled by acidic gurgles, completes the package.

Mit The Drum "n" Bass Session erweitert Wagram die renommierte Electronic Music Anthology um ein weiteres zentrales Kapitel der elektronischen Musikgeschichte. Auch diese Ausgabe wurde von FG Radio, einer der wichtigsten Plattformen für elektronische Musik in Frankreich, kuratiert und widmet sich ganz den energiegeladenen, bassgetriebenen Facetten von Drum "n" Bass. Die Compilation vereint wegweisende Künstler wie Goldie, Roni Size, Calibre, Nookie, DC Breaks, Souljah und DJ Gilb"R - Namen, die das Genre von seinen frühen Jungle-Wurzeln über soulful, deepen Drum "n" Bass bis hin zu modernen, clubtauglichen Produktionen entscheidend geprägt haben. Rasende Breakbeats treffen auf massive Basslines, atmosphärische Flächen und eine unverwechselbare Mischung aus Präzision und Energie. The Drum "n" Bass Session richtet sich gleichermaßen an DJs, Sammler und Liebhaber elektronischer Subkultur. Eine sorgfältig kuratierte Anthologie, die den Stil nicht historisiert, sondern seine zeitlose Dynamik und Relevanz eindrucksvoll hervorhebt - kompromisslos, direkt und absolut dancefloor-erprobt.

Magyar Posse’s third album Random Avenger out on vinyl for the first time ever in July via Svart Records Looking back, it was the golden age of Magyar Posse. The album Kings of Time had received a tremendous response from both critics and music lovers. The band was touring intensely in Finland and abroad. By now, the band was a well-oiled machine, ready to capture the successor to their celebrated second album. The band decided to follow a different path compared to the creation of Kings of Time: they would record their third album alongside the well-known, slightly eccentric engineer and producer Jani Viitanen. The recognizable Magyar Posse style was present in the pieces of Random Avenger, but something was slightly different. The new music was more rhythm-based, more riff-based and in places more joyous than the dynamic minor key avalanche of Kings of Time. Consciously or unconsciously, the band members saw that they had travelled the Slavic melancholy road as far as possible with the previous album. The success of Kings of Time felt like a positive push, not an extra pressure on their shoulders. It was only natural to strike again while the iron was hot. Many of the pieces had been already developed by the time Kings of Time was released, which eased the production of Random Avenger. After the meticulous but relatively swift mixing and mastering process, the band members were satisfied with the result. The only component that made some of them blush was the cover art – graphic designer Tom Backström had glaringly used photos of empty stages in forgotten community centres and the like. The beauty or the ugliness is once again in the eye of the beholder. Right after its release, Random Avenger got a very positive response, but not as overwhelming as Kings of Time – which was to be expected, as the previous Magyar Posse album had probably been the most universally praised Finnish album of the whole decade. Mikko Elo, musician / journalist, Pori, Finland, March 1st 2026

Magyar Posse’s third album Random Avenger out on vinyl for the first time ever in July via Svart Records Looking back, it was the golden age of Magyar Posse. The album Kings of Time had received a tremendous response from both critics and music lovers. The band was touring intensely in Finland and abroad. By now, the band was a well-oiled machine, ready to capture the successor to their celebrated second album. The band decided to follow a different path compared to the creation of Kings of Time: they would record their third album alongside the well-known, slightly eccentric engineer and producer Jani Viitanen. The recognizable Magyar Posse style was present in the pieces of Random Avenger, but something was slightly different. The new music was more rhythm-based, more riff-based and in places more joyous than the dynamic minor key avalanche of Kings of Time. Consciously or unconsciously, the band members saw that they had travelled the Slavic melancholy road as far as possible with the previous album. The success of Kings of Time felt like a positive push, not an extra pressure on their shoulders. It was only natural to strike again while the iron was hot. Many of the pieces had been already developed by the time Kings of Time was released, which eased the production of Random Avenger. After the meticulous but relatively swift mixing and mastering process, the band members were satisfied with the result. The only component that made some of them blush was the cover art – graphic designer Tom Backström had glaringly used photos of empty stages in forgotten community centres and the like. The beauty or the ugliness is once again in the eye of the beholder. Right after its release, Random Avenger got a very positive response, but not as overwhelming as Kings of Time – which was to be expected, as the previous Magyar Posse album had probably been the most universally praised Finnish album of the whole decade. Mikko Elo, musician / journalist, Pori, Finland, March 1st 2026

Nia Archives returns with Emotional Junglist, an album about love – but not just the shimmering romantic parts. Written throughout 2025 – a year that saw Nia fall in, and horrifically back out of, love – each track will encompass something of the experience.

Marking her biggest sonic leap to date, her alt-jungle sound honed alongside James Ford (Arctic Monkey’s, Blur), Ethan P. Flynn (FKA Twigs, David Byrne) and Julia Michaels (Lady Gaga, Sabrina Carpenter), will see her flirt with everything from dewy-eyed indie pop and nineties electronica, underscored by the syncopated beats and thudding basslines of her jungle roots with a tracklist that features Jorja Smith and Sampha.

The motif for the album is a shell – tough on the outside, but through pressure, maturation and resilience, something precious is built within. Nodding to the female form, the spiral chamber also symbolizes growth and self-development.

New York’s Ma Sha brings wigged-out rhythms to Nerve Collect with an explosive, future-facing new EP. The six tracks prove she is bound by no rules but knows exactly how to energise the club.

Ma Sha deals in sounds that operate outside the usual boundaries and demand full-bodied, physical reactions. She has become a driving force in the New York underground with Kindergarten, which is both a much-loved party and a much hyped label. Though built on global techno foundations, Sha’s grooves range from peak-time brain melters to more twisted and rugged, always at high tempo and with plenty of invention on labels like Steel City Dance Discs and Rhythm Section International.

‘Salpa’ opens with a clipped rhythm drenched in neon and psychedelic swirls as oversized bass cocoons from below with glitchy vocal fragments and hard but bouncy techno momentum. ‘Gillz’ swallows you in waves of bass and rubber kicks while screwy synths spray across the mix while a syncopated broken beat brings irresistible funk to a post-human world. ‘Shots’, a collab track with Hodge, works in overdrive with rising tones and liquid metal textures that trap you in a hall of mirrors. Intense club pressure builds with pristine percussion and hyperreal vocals.

‘Spinmachine’ is a freaky sound world of fuzzy synths, cantering drums and static electricity that is full of threat and never lets go. ‘Total Energy’ locks into rolling drums and hyping swing with descending leads and a sense of future rave chaos designed for sheer dance floor release.

Ma Sha’s sound designs feel beamed back from the future to rewire familiar rhythms that tickle the brain as they make their way through your entire body.

Italian producer Gledd has been quietly carving out a reputation for groove-led house music that balances raw dancefloor energy with rich musicality. Drawing on influences that span gospel, afrobeat, and classic deep house, his productions channel both heritage and forward-thinking club culture. My House Is Your Church marks his debut release on Delusions Of Grandeur - a fitting home for his expansive, souldrenched sound - and signals a bold new chapter in his evolution as an artist.

The EP opens with On His Way, a percussion-heavy deep roller built for maximum dancefloor impact. Anchored by fat, heavyweight production and a massive low-end presence, the track surges forward with relentless energy. An incredible gospel vocal cuts through the mix, elevating the groove into something transcendent - equal parts spiritual and physical. On It’s Not That Easy, Gledd leans further into his gospel house influences. Highimpact and rhythmically rich, the track weaves together organ fills and subtle tropical flourishes, creating a vibrant, sun-soaked energy while keeping the pressure firmly on the floor.

It’s a track that feels both uplifting and commanding. Flipping to the B-side, Habibi Gospel pushes into more “outernational” territory. A wild, expressive lead vocal takes center stage, riding atop a heavy, driving groove. Organ stabs punctuate the rhythm, locking dancers into a hypnotic flow that bridges cultures and styles with effortless confidence. Closing the EP, Can You Hear My Noise? brings things to a richly textured finale. Slightly more organic in feel, it blends echoing synth stabs, percussive melodic lines, and chopped vocals into a melting pot of sound. The result is a seamless fusion of gospel, afrobeat, and classic house - deep, emotive, and undeniably danceable. With My House Is Your Church, Gledd delivers a statement of intent: music as ritual, the dancefloor as sanctuary.

2026 Repress

Words by Costanza Acernese
MOVING PRESSURE 04 / Obscur
With its fourth release, Moving Pressure welcomes its first external artist: young Slovenian producer Obscur. With a signature sound that is driving and subtly psychedelic, his debut on the label doesn't stray from the core tenets of its sonic ethos. Obscur delivers minimalism with purpose-dynamic, intentional, and wholly physical.
'F135' opens the A-side with a sinister tilt-rubbery squeaks stretch and coil around a flickering, synthetic voice. It's tactile and strange, without losing movement. 'Soul Eater' follows with a slow-burn crescendo, nestling psychedelic inflections into a warm low-end. On the flip, 'Stockholm Syndrome' pares things back. Dry, stripped rhythms carry an atmospheric tension-it's austere yet playful, leaving space for darker hues to linger without fully settling. A precise, heads-down statement. 'Blasphemy' follows with a tighter percussive grip and Feral-esque, panning modulations. Highs slice through a foundation of finely textured grooves-functional at its core, but laced with enough detail to give the track a sharper, more intricate edge. The digital bonus, 'Diamond City', stretches the sonic palette even further. Not through layers, but through tone: steel blues and deep violets bounce off metallic bleeps with cinematic restraint, closing the EP on a reflective note.

D91LINKSERIES_01 inaugurates a new split record series by Distrito 91 focused on connecting artists, sonic identities and parallel visions through the classic 12” format.

For its first transmission, the series brings together two projects emerging from different areas of Spain’s underground electronic landscape: Geistform and Half Mute.

On Side A, Geistform, also known for his electro alias Univac, delivers three tracks driven by raw machine energy, analogue sequences and industrial pressure. His sound draws from rhythmic noise and minimal electronics, evoking the mechanical intensity of the European industrial tradition.

Side B features Half Mute, an alias of Madrid based artist Groof, one of the long standing figures connected to the Spanish underground techno scene. His tracks move through dark electro structures, hypnotic sequencing and minimalist techno, balancing tension and functionality within a distinctly nocturnal atmosphere.

40 years after its creation, MOß GARTEN – Sekvensstyrd 1981–1986 arrives as a compelling double vinyl LP, diving deep into the early Swedish DIY electronic scene. Inspired by pioneers such as Kraftwerk, Cabaret Voltaire, John Foxx, and The Human League, Mikael Isaksson developed a distinct sound situated between minimal electronics, industrial, synth wave, and experimental sound art. At its core was the sequencer: pulsing, programmed structures forming the backbone of dense, often hypnotic compositions.

Working initially with his cousin Jan or friend Thomas and later evolving into a largely one-man project, recordings were made on cassette tapes and in improvised studios—often under time pressure, frequently recorded and mixed within just a few hours. These very limitations gave the tracks their raw and immediate character. Pieces like “Moderna Kvinnor,” “Soon Soon,” “Ensam,” and “Music From The Border” exemplify the uncompromising, sequence-driven (“sekvensstyrd”) approach that defined this era.

Using an arsenal of analog synthesizers, early sequencers, and drum machines, the project created music that feels at once cold, mechanical, and deeply emotional. Sekvenssytrd 1981–1986 is more than a collection of archival recordings—it is a vivid document of a time when electronic music was conceived as a radical and deeply personal form of expression.

Mastered by Martin Bowes. Graphic design by Steve Lippert.

2LP features: limited to approx. 200 copies, solid moss green vinyl, gatefold outer sleeve gloss lamination, polylined inner sleeves, hand-numbered silver foil paper insert with lyrics, download coupon)

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.

For some time now, followers of Field Medic have been piecing together clues about Floral Prince. The name has been mentioned in late night Twitter hints, secret YouTube leaks, teaser riddles, Instagram live sets, and standalone single drops. This unconventional approach paints a bigger picture for the 11-track project as a whole, set for release October 2nd from Run For Cover Records. Part mixtape, part album, part collection, part musical patchwork quilt, Floral Prince is the latest offering from Field Medic, aka the preeminent Bay Area freak folk artist Kevin Patrick Sullivan. It’s a reflection of his unique approach to songwriting and a creative drive that can’t be contained to the traditional album format. Field Medic’s songwriting rarely slows down; even after the release of his 2019 full-length fade into the dawn and the busy touring schedule that followed, Sullivan still found himself flush with new songs and ideas. As he attempted to earmark certain songs for his next release Sullivan began to chafe at the pressures of a follow-up album. Longing for the spontaneity of Field Medic’s earlier work, Sullivan found inspiration in what he calls the “full-time freestyle” mindset where he writes and records songs on the fly with a four-track, usually with a self-imposed limit of three takes. “This style lends itself to more off-the-cuff lyrics and recordings that communicate their point much clearer to my ears,” he explains. “It’s also fun.”

The process proved surprisingly satisfying, often capturing the diary-like nature of Sullivan’s songwriting more accurately than some of the music he’d been poring over. “The songs born from this method aren’t always ‘hits,’ he says. “But they feel much more important to me…closer to how I really feel.” Some of these charming homespun missives made their way onto the internet, spurring fans to follow the breadcrumbs towards these first glimpses into Floral Prince and the ever-expanding Field Medic mythology. “I realized the songs I was saving for another album were much less focused and effective than some of the freestyles I had been creating and subsequently leaking,” Sullivan says. “I think that’s because I really enjoyed the process of writing and recording the freestyles, whereas the ‘hits’ I was attempting to make were being approached as more of a chore.” Floral Prince officially began to see the light of day through a series of stand-alone singles released throughout early 2020 in tandem with episodes of Sullivan’s homemade webseries, the field medic show. To invite fans further into Field Medic’s unique world of achingly beautiful melodies and conversational lyricism, songs like the atmospheric ballad “better way” and the Alex Menne (pickleboy/Great Grandpa) collaboration “talkin johnny & june (your arms around me)” were shared alongside the YouTube show’s accompanying live versions. Other tracks—like rousing opener “-h-o-u-s-e-k-e-y-z-” and the longing “i want you so bad it hurts”—were repurposed from the fade into the dawn sessions to finally find a home on Floral Prince. Elsewhere “it’s so lonely being sober” exemplifies the unvarnished appeal of the full-time freestyle attitude. The song’s direct lyrics and single-take phone recording preserve the deeply personal storytelling, relatable details, and palpable emotions that make Field Medic’s work so intimate and enthralling.

Although Floral Prince is culled from several years of Field Medic songs, its 11 tracks have a sense of cohesion that can be attributed to Sullivan’s singular vision and willingness to allow the listener into his life. “These songs were written through different seasons of my life but they all share a common theme of quiet, nagging, yet somehow defiant insecurity,” he explains. “To hear them all grouped together reminds me that I’ve always felt more or less the same way, and have had the same obsessive tendencies my whole life that have often led to self-destructive behavior. Maybe this is catharsis.” In the end Floral Prince is actually many things at once: a snapshot of an artist shaking off the perceived boundaries of his medium; a document of years of Sullivan’s life preserved in musical form; the closing of one songwriting chapter and the start of another. Or perhaps as Sullivan puts it, “All songs have their day…”

Under the moniker Trace Mountains, Dave Benton writes music that asks large questions in quietly profound ways. On the project’s earliest release, the 2014 compilation Buttery Sprouts & Other Songs, these thoughts appeared as lo-fi scraps of wit andtenderness. But by the time A Partner to Lean On, Trace Mountains’ debut full-length, arrived in 2018, Benton’s perceptive indie rock had matured into more existential meditations about identity, existence, and finding sense in an increasingly chaotic world.
In the two years since A Partner to Lean On, Benton’s life has undergone several large changes, namely the dissolution of LVL UP, the indie rock quartet he co-founded in college, and a move to Kingston, a small city in New York’s Hudson Valley. Composed during—but not directly inspired by—this transition, Trace Mountains’ second record, Lost in the Country, reflects Benton’s need toreconnect with his inner world.

Prompted by an urge to access a more authentic voice, Lost in the Country finds Benton digging deeper into candid songwriting. “I wanted to open myself up and write lyrics that are a little bit more direct,” he explains. “I write a lot of songs that are about myself and a lot of songs that aren’t, but on this record, the focus is turned inward either way.” The result is Trace Mountains’ strongest and most assured record yet, 10 songs driven by a desire for introspection and self-discovery. The backdrop for this insularity is an expanse of wide blue skies, seas of trees, and winding roads, ideal locales for thoughts to blossom into greater reflections of the outer world. The slow-burning “Absurdity,” which Benton modestly says is about “hiking and standing in the country,” uses the sublimity of the wilderness to comment on technology’s inescapable presence. Similarly, the driving opener “Rock & Roll” transforms the premise of a “simple song about being a rocker” into a stream-of-consciousness, apocalyptic poem about delusions, regrets, and getting lost in your own limited perspective. This self-examination culminates with the record’s ambitious and anthemic title track. Channeling the cosmic sprawl of the War on Drugs or Kurt Vile, Benton recalls a moment of deep loneliness and depression outside a concert venue in the Netherlands, and how an unexpected moment of compassion led to a moment of awakening.
Despite its frequently bucolic setting, Lost in the Country’s underlying current is an urgent commitment to Trace Mountains and “finding a creative process that requires me to be honest with myself.” “I know I sing to forget, I sing to hold my breath, to feel the thumping in my chest,” Benton sings on “Cooper’s Dream.”This line is “rooted in the importance of music in my life, it’s definitely a reflection on that and how I can keep it in my life, because if I’m not careful and I don’t nurture it, I could lose it.” The self-imposed pressure has been empowering for Benton. “I really like having full control in making a record, deciding what songs are going to be on it, as well as shaping the vibe or narrative of the whole thing,” he says. “It brings a peace of mind knowing that I am responsible for just my voice.”

With Agenda EP, Tom Carruthers closes a landmark trilogy on Skylax Records, following Neutralise EP and Deepline. Three records. Fifteen tracks. One coherent vision of machine-driven house music stripped to its raw, functional core. This final chapter dives deeper into direct, club-focused energy, where groove, repetition and tension do the talking. Agenda is less reflective, more physical — built for movement, sweat, and long transitions in dark rooms. Opening track “Chrome” sets the tone: sharp drum programming, metallic pressure, and looping synth phrases that lock the body into motion. “Agenda (Raw Mix)” follows with a tougher, stripped-down approach — no excess, just pure rhythmic insistence rooted in early Chicago jack and warehouse discipline. “Beat Down” pushes further into machine funk territory, where relentless patterns and rugged textures meet in hypnotic repetition. On the flip, “Fade Away” brings a deeper, moodier tension — a late-night track where subtle emotion seeps through minimal structures. Closing cut “What You Want” is classic Carruthers: jacking drums, understated melody, and a groove that feels timeless rather than retro. As with the previous releases, the visual identity is handled by H5, whose modernist, reduced artwork mirrors the sonic philosophy: clarity, impact, and purpose. Agenda EP completes the Skylax trilogy as a statement of intent — not revivalism, not nostalgia, but dance music reduced to its essential elements.

NU-S3RVO Vol. 2 is the second compilation released by NU-S3RVO. In this release, we continue our exploration of the sounds of modern East Asia, shifting our focus toward female creators within the local scene. This album features works from seven producers based in Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Guangzhou, and Chengdu, spanning genres from Ambient and Bass to IDM and Techno.

The juxtaposition of “Eastern” and “Female” is not intended to annotate a specific identity, but rather to present an entirely autonomous field. For too long, the “East” has been constructed as a feminine, mysterious, and sensory-indulgent mirror of the “Other.” Such aesthetic norms act not only as gendered shackles but as extensions of colonial logic, forcing both women and the East to share a fate of being “spectacularized” for the gaze. Electronic music, as a creative medium, derives its radical freedom precisely from its departure from this destiny of “spectacle.” It represents the oscillator’s transcendence of physical acoustics and functions as a liberatory technology, offering creators a sanctuary to dismantle traditional constraints and reconstruct the self. In fact, since the inception of modern sound, women have been at the very core of inventing and defining the technologies, interfaces, and expressive techniques of the craft.

Stripping away the romanticized and semioticized cultural shells, each local artist in this compilation is a master of diverse technical crafts. Through their unique logic and emotional resonance, we aim to establish a decentralized acoustic language within the fissures of modern civilization.

Felipe Gordon is back on Shall Not Fade with his new album Tezeta and f*ck is it special.

Felipe Gordon is SNF label mainstay... (we released his triple repressed debut album "A Landscape Onomatopeya" in 2022 as well as 7 x 12" EPs on SNF over the years plus an extra 12" on Lost Palms)... so given his consistent and exceptional output on our record label you'd probably forgive some complacency with this write up, you might even afford us license to assume we're preaching to the choir and allow us to rest easy knowing that at this stage Felipe Gordon's records sell themselves.... Well none of those things are happening here because when an artist makes a record this complete, this good, you have to try to find the words. You use words like "timeless", "complete and "special". Words that can carry the weight. Because when you've listened to an album dozens of times, and not once, in any part, on any listen in any way has it fatigued you, you need to say. When a record felt so wonderfully familiar from the first listen and just kept on giving you the same feels ever since, you need to say. When a record makes you think about you how you feel about certain Air & St Germain albums (even when you know what it means to put that in a press release), you need to say. So here we are, saying these things.. Tezeta is a special record, one that exists in the rarefied air. A proper album. A record that every time you press play you will immediately remember why you own it and why you love it. A record that your subconscious will know so well that if shuffle is on you will know in an instant. An album that when it's in your collection and the first track starts you get a twinge of annoyance because you didn't listen again sooner and when the final track stops you stop too.

Given paint and a canvas we can most of us paint a picture, but only those that are gifted can paint something that makes us feel. Tezeta makes you feel. Feel familiarity when it's playing, yearning when its not, and absence when it ends. This alone would be enough to make the argument as to why this album is special and justify the gushing opening paragraph of this press release. But we're not done yet.

We don't really have a word in english for what Felipe Gordon has created with this album and how it makes you feel. "Tezeta" that word.

Tezeta is a one of four musical modes within the traditional Ethiopian modal music system known as Qiñit. Mulatu Astatke, the father of Ethio-jazz, frequently uses this mode, often translating it as "nostalgia" or "longing". Gordon says Mulatu's own tezeta recordings convey to him "feelings of melancholy and longing from a point of affection". This is exactly the feeling Gordon has captured. It is what he has woven through every recording on this album. Tezeta is the prime ingredient. It's the base note in recipe, it's sprinkled over the signature jazz-sampled house tracks. It powers the vast array of synthesizers Gordon deploys. It underpins the explorations into trip-hop. It's present in Gordon's varied vocal deliveries and it tunes his guitar. It's in the running order. It's the flow. Tezeta is tezeta in electronic music form, with 4/4, breakbeats, samples and synths.

Gordon says a big part of what differentiates this album from from his previous albums is that is was recorded in a period where he allowed himself to create music without the constraints of time or self-pressure which coincided with a moment of heavy personal growth which allowed him to reflect deeply on his work.

There is a word in Portuguese "Saudade" that Gordon says has a similar meaning to Tezeta - Saudade is defined as a deep, sometimes bittersweet, longing or nostalgia for someone or something that is absent or lost. But here at SNF we think that in Tezeta nothing has been lost. Quite the opposite. Through Felipe Gordon's artistic explorations we have all gained something very special indeed.

The shape-shifting sound of Low End Activist continues to pivot around an axis of bassweight pressure with the launch of their self-titled label – the appropriate vessel to take them deeper into sci-fi scented sonics with an ‘ardcore swagger. Previous drops on Sneaker Social Club and Seagrave have seen the shadowy technician mangling grime, jungle and dubstep tropes with all the grit and flair of the most visionary sample sorcerers. At times, they’ve built their beatscapes up around fierce MC spots from such legends as Flowdan and Trim, but while there’s more to come on the vocal tip for the LEA series, this first installment works in a strictly instrumental fashion.

Hi-tech breakbeat de/re-construction is the focus across all three tracks on LEA001, with atmospheres so densely rendered you can feel them sticking to your skin like the sweat of a well-slicked basement session. ‘Engineers Origins’ emits pure darkcore energy and icy stabs of future-shock industrialism, while ‘Look Up’ shivers with off-key orchestrations. ‘Probability 1’ gets deep in the break edit and throws in an iconic low end rumble that should spark intense reveries amongst anyone with even a passing appreciation for bass. Like the most potent foundational jungle, all three tracks swerve regimented structure in favour of moody exploration around a suite of themes and sounds, slipping time in style and setting up the LEA series for further intense sonic treatments to come.