quête:pu

Repress!

Moderat, the electronic music Voltron formed by Apparat and Modeselektor, released ‘MORE D4TA’ last year to critical acclaim, their first full-length album since 2016. Keinemusik’s Rampa & &ME put their spin on the Moderat albums’ third single ‘MORE LOVE.“ — the vinyl single of the remix will be out December 8th, 2023.

Icelandic dub techno legend Yagya returns to his own Small Plastic Animals label with Vor, an album of dreamy dub techno indebted to seasonal differences. After exploring vocal-led composition on Faded Photographs, this new album finds Aalsteinn Gumundsson returning to the purely electronic sound he first forged in the early 2000s. It's an album split between the distinct moods of Spring ('Vor') and Autumn ('Haust'), four tracks apiece. Steeped in the pristine dub techno pulses and broad synthstrokes which made his early albums like Rigning and Sleepygirls instant classics, Gumundsson delivers a widescreen masterpiece true to his long-standing legacy in Iceland's lauded dub techno scene.

Ira James' Vessel Recordings Group is a go-to for soulful house sounds and that's just what we have here to kick off 2025 on good vibes only. Jaemus and Sen-Sei are the dup behind two new singles. The first is 'Never Come Down' and it features Hector Moralez on the vocals while the cuddly beats, gooey chords and sweet drums all melt you. The Nonfiction remix is more pumping and direct and 'Don't Keep Me Waiting' then swirls around with heady pads, incidental melodies and dusty drums for late-night wig-outs.

FELT welcomes back Civilistjävel! with »Följd«, the follow-up to last year’s »Brödföda«. 7 tracks further chronicling his melancholic murk, ever drifting towards that faint dub glow. Features a collaboration with Thomas Bush Jolly Discs.

Uncanny are the nocturnal sounds that ebb patiently from Tomas Bodén and his machines. His music continues to uncover equal parts beauty and dread from isolation, a purposeful slow pace guiding those gentle noises through the arctic air surrounding its author. No matter the weather, these expressions as Civilistjävel! continue to find a loving home on Fergus Jones’s FELT imprint.

On »Följd«, he naturally develops on the inclinations found on »Brödföda«. »XIII«’s unsettling warble melts into the dusky spurts of »XIV«. Further on, the dew-glowed ambience of »XV« precedes »XVI«’s dub trudge which casts a hypnotic grey shadow. »XVII«’s wind-swept acid redux then quietly transitions into the stunning introspective drone of »XVIII« before closer »XIX« comes into view, its positive dawn enacted through Thomas Bush’s croons lilting amongst organs, guitars and tempered sound design.

Civilistjävel! continues to emote a great deal with very little, a reliable abstract practitioner that posits »Följd« as an arresting audio tale within his celebrated oeuvre.

Cahl Sel returns with the Blue EP, a second 4-track release for Reflective Records. These tracks have their origins in live hardware sets, performed around Nor Cal and now honed in the studio.

The title track "Blue" sets the tone with a hypnotic house cut, followed by a blissed-out JX-3P workout on A2 "Focus". The B-Side opens on a deeper, more techno-inspired “Panoptic”, with a bleepy SH-101 pulse and haunting FM melody. The final track closes out the EP with an introspective ambient vignette, “Wishbone”.

Jesse Hackett returns with another unclassifiable co-mingling of genres, this time made in collaboration with Durban-based gqom trio Phelimuncasi. The group met up in Nyege Nyege's Kampala studio last year, spending three days engineering a sequence of tracks that turned the acts' respective sounds inside out, stretching urgent vocals over mutating backdrops of time stretched electronic drums, saturated noise and unstable synths.We last heard from Hackett on last year's chilling 'Shadow Swamps', a chilly, surrealist blast of disembodied folk and vintage electronics that added a cinematic twist to industrial music. Phelimuncasi meanwhile followed their acclaimed debut with the enormous 'Ama Gogela', asserting their dominance with tight, dancefloor-fwd, hook-led jams produced by some of the scene's most important beatmakers. In collaboration, both Metal Preyers and Phelimuncasi materialized a few worlds outside their comfort zones, with the Durban trio's words frothing from Hackett's marshy productions like echoes from another universe.Opening track 'Gidigidi ka Makhelwane' erupts in a fizz of beatbox percussion that loops noisily alongside Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's stirring vocals, delivered in their local isiZulu tongue. Hackett's process is relatively restrained, offering Phelimuncasi the space to work their rousing magic unimpeded and adding punctuation where necessary. But when he takes more of a destructive role, it's just as impressive: on 'Gqom slowgen Chant', he corrupts his rhythm into a ritualistic pulse, letting the trio's words melt into metallic clicks and nauseous atmospheres.Elsewhere on 'Mgiligi wableka', Phelimuncasi's words create a rousing rhythm against a low-n-slow gqom thud from Hackett, and on 'Coffin Roller' he brings to mind '80s video nasty soundtracks, toying with analog synth sequences against Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's distant chants. 'Like A Corpse' might be the album's most hollowed-out banger, turning the beat into a chopped 'n screwed drag that scrapes clamorously against Phelimuncasi's gurgling raps. Needless to say, there's nothing else like this.Jesse Hackett returns with another unclassifiable co-mingling of genres, this time made in collaboration with Durban-based gqom trio Phelimuncasi. The group met up in Nyege Nyege's Kampala studio last year, spending three days engineering a sequence of tracks that turned the acts' respective sounds inside out, stretching urgent vocals over mutating backdrops of time stretched electronic drums, saturated noise and unstable synths.We last heard from Hackett on last year's chilling 'Shadow Swamps', a chilly, surrealist blast of disembodied folk and vintage electronics that added a cinematic twist to industrial music. Phelimuncasi meanwhile followed their acclaimed debut with the enormous 'Ama Gogela', asserting their dominance with tight, dancefloor-fwd, hook-led jams produced by some of the scene's most important beatmakers. In collaboration, both Metal Preyers and Phelimuncasi materialized a few worlds outside their comfort zones, with the Durban trio's words frothing from Hackett's marshy productions like echoes from another universe.Opening track 'Gidigidi ka Makhelwane' erupts in a fizz of beatbox percussion that loops noisily alongside Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's stirring vocals, delivered in their local isiZulu tongue. Hackett's process is relatively restrained, offering Phelimuncasi the space to work their rousing magic unimpeded and adding punctuation where necessary. But when he takes more of a destructive role, it's just as impressive: on 'Gqom slowgen Chant', he corrupts his rhythm into a ritualistic pulse, letting the trio's words melt into metallic clicks and nauseous atmospheres.Elsewhere on 'Mgiligi wableka', Phelimuncasi's words create a rousing rhythm against a low-n-slow gqom thud from Hackett, and on 'Coffin Roller' he brings to mind '80s video nasty soundtracks, toying with analog synth sequences against Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's distant chants. 'Like A Corpse' might be the album's most hollowed-out banger, turning the beat into a chopped 'n screwed drag that scrapes clamorously against Phelimuncasi's gurgling raps. Needless to say, there's nothing else like this.

Ben Lukas Boysens neues Album, Alta Ripa, bedeutet eine seismische Verschiebung in seiner künstlerischen Reise. Es greift die grundlegenden Impulse seiner Jugend auf, die inmitten der ruhigen Schönheit des ländlichen Deutschlands geprägt wurden - eine bukolische Kulisse, in der seine kreative Palette aufblühte. Doch erst sein Umzug nach Berlin in den frühen 2000er Jahren elektrisierte seinen Sound und ließ ihn mit der pulsierenden Energie der Stadt und den vielfältigen kulturellen Einflüssen verschmelzen. Alta Ripa fängt diese transformative Erfahrung ein, indem es die introspektiven Melodien seiner ländlichen Anfänge mit den kühnen, experimentellen Klängen der pulsierenden elektronischen Musikszene Berlins vermischt. Dieses Album ist ein Zeugnis von Boysens Entwicklung und zeigt, wie geografische Verschiebungen den künstlerischen Ausdruck tiefgreifend prägen können.

"Langt Fra Jorden" ("Lejos De La Tierra", in Spanish, for the book) is the result of the dialogue between the Spanish photographer and artist Irene Zottola and the Danish musician and artist øjeRum initiated by IIKKI, between June 2024 and November 2024.

øjeRum is Copenhagen based musician and collage artist Paw Grabowski. In his øjeRum guise, he plucks and strums his treated acoustic instruments, sounding at times like church bells, at times like angelic harp, at time like drones, and suspends the listener in the magic of his melodies.
With a deep back-catalogue of releases since 2014 - spanning labels such as eilean rec., Room40, Line, Opal Tapes and many more - he continues exploring his minimal, textural and deeply personal style of ambient music.

Irene Zottola is a Spanish photographer and artist who explores the limits of analog photography to generate a world of dreamlike and poetic character, often accompanying her images with text.
She has been self-taught in Madrid in the laboratory of the Slow Photo collective since 2016. In 2017 she is a finalist in the Rfotofolio Grant.
Her work has been exhibited in Spain, Italy and Morocco. She has published with editorials such as La Bella Varsovia and Lumen (Spain) and magazines such as She shoots film (Australia), Fisheyemagazine (France) and Vostmagazine (Korea).
In 2021 she received one of the Grants to Creation granted by VEGAP with which she began a new project in Paris and was part of the artistic residence ART(e)gileak of the BBK with a participatory photography project. She is one of the 33 authors of the Mission Region project organized by the Community of Madrid and is part of the platform of the National Image Centre in Spain. Winner in 2020 of the V Edition of the Photochannel Contest, she has published with Ediciones Anómalas her first photobook, "Icarus", which has been a finalist in PhotoEspaña and in Les Photobook Awards of Les Rencontres d'Arles 2022.
"Lejos De La Tierra’’ is her second book.

Fine Art Book, Ltd. to 500 copies:
Hardcover book printed on Munken Print Cream 115g/m2 // 80 pages, 17cm x 23cm, 42 photos // Logo and slot embossed // Hot gold stamping // Visible seam and cutting cover pages // Hand-numbered, hand-stamped.

Hidden Harmony presents the first full-length LP from Estonian composer and keyboardist Volodja Brodsky. The six compositions on 'Whispering Ln.' were entirely recorded during Brodsky's trip to the USA in 2018-2019 and showcased his passion for the transformative power of minimalism as an art form. The follow-up to his keyboard duties on psych funk/rare groove Estonian outfits Estrada Orchestra, Centre El Muusa, Misha Panfilov Septet, on ‘Whispering Ln’ Brodsky reinventing himself as a minimalism evangelist in his own right. From space age pop shimmering sonatas to the monolithic drone/overtone hypnotics, Brodsky created an ascetic yet complex sonic landscape where less is more.

"During this period, I was deeply engaged in the study of this art form. The compositions are meticulously distilled to their most primitive form, crafting an immersive experience that beckons to embark on a journey into the very core of emotions and thoughts. Every pause and each meticulously chosen sound within the album serves a purpose, orchestrating a delicate interplay between simplicity and depth. I hope this music carries you to a place of introspection and serenity, where you may discover the profound beauty within the plainness of life" – Volodja Brodsky

Moshe Fisher-Rozenberg returns to Altin Village & Mine with his second album as Memory Pearl. »Cosmic-Astral« reimagines a music programme used by psychotherapists in the 1970s in combination with LSD. While the original album was designed to take the listener on a cosmic journey of personal discovery through classical music, Fisher-Rozenberg draws on the sounds of electronic instruments and a collage-like approach: he converted the scores of the original pieces by Richard Strauss, Alexander Scriabin, and others into MIDI files, manipulated those into entirely new shapes and sounds using a variety of techniques, while also combining them with improvisational input from artists such as Sam Prekop, Joseph Shabason, Moritz Fasbender, Alec O’Hanley, Bram Gielen, and Brandon Valdivia.

Besides his work as a multi-instrumentalist, producer and collaborator of bands such as Alvvays as well as a member of the group Absolutely Free, Fisher-Rozenberg is also a registered psychotherapist and certified music therapist. »Cosmic-Astral« is hence marked by his expertise in both fields while also displaying the conceptual rigour and aesthetic playfulness that had already been in full effect on his Memory Pearl debut, 2021’s »Music for 7 Paintings« for Altin Village & Mine. Aiming to create his own version of the »Cosmic-Astral« programme, but making it more »delicate and tender,« as he puts it, Fisher-Rozenberg combines the ethereal with the terrestrial, abstraction and concretion, synthesization and the organic across these nine tracks.

As a whole, the resulting album is quite literally trippy. »Each piece is meant to bring the listener deeper into their journey,« explains the Toronto-based artist. »You can think of it in terms of space travel, with each tune taking you further out of yourself and deeper into a cosmic realm.« Think about »Cosmic Astral« as a map through which you can find your way towards sonic healing.

Emmanuel Mario returns to Karaoke Kalk with his third album under his Astrobal moniker for the Berlin-based imprint. »L’uomo e la natura« (»Man and Nature«) sees the prolific drummer and producer, who has worked with artists such as Laetitia Sadier and label mate Pink Shabab, take a different musical route than before. The French electronic music composer pays homage to the spirit of library music while also making concessions to different strains of pop and even classical music. With only two of the ten songs putting words to the music, »L’uomo e la natura« is a masterful exercise in the evocation of atmospheres: expressing much while saying very little outright—show, don’t tell.

The album was born out of a desire to push the envelope. »I wanted to make music that was both pop and ambitious in its chord progressions as well as surprising in its construction,« explains the Paris-based artist. Taking inspiration from library music artists such as Alessandro Alessandroni or Bruno Nicolai as well as the more cosmic strains of electronic instrumental music, he strove »to create a soundtrack that would immediately bring to mind outer space.« The first of the three singles released ahead of the full album, »L’abeille pourpre,« captures this spirit with funky rhythms and an overjoyed interplay of different melodies, all tied together by wordless yet terminally catchy vocals.

The second single, »Miami 2064,« traverses through many different moods in its six-minute run-time: Starting off as neo-noir synth-wave piece, it then proceeds to pay its dues to the masters of the cosmic music tradition such as Tangerine Dream or, of course, Jean-Michel Jarre before slowly descending back to Earth with guitars and dreamy synthetic vocals, playfully punctuated by a plethora of wistful melodies. It is the perfect encapsulation of the open-ended approach Mario follows throughout the entire album, taking full creative licence in regards to songwriting and arrangements. »I wanted to surprise myself,« he shrugs. He succeeded.

»L’uomo e la natura« rewards multiple listens not only emotionally, but also intellectually. »I also wanted to talk about politics and ecology, because it’s impossible not to,« Mario notes. Some of the track titles express this more openly than others and the two title tracks sung by Mario and Nina Savary use French and Italian lyrics, respectively. However, as a whole the album leaves things open to interpretation. Does »The End of Capitalism« sound elegiac or triumphant? And what do you actually make of this musical vision of the Floridian metropolis, whose mere existence is threatened by climate change already today, four decades from now? Mario doesn’t necessarily answer these questions—he doesn’t tell, he shows.

As Jess Sylvester finished his Hardly Art debut as Marinero in the fall of 2020, he realized it was time for a change. Sylvester grew up in Marin County, on the doorstep of San Francisco. It was a nurturing community for a high-school punk with a pompadour and, later, for a sober songwriter with a proclivity for moody psychedelia. But he wanted to be challenged and inspired by a new setting and scenario around strangers who prompted him to approach his music in unexpected ways. So in September 2020, as the world continued to reel in lockdown, Sylvester headed several hours south to Los Angeles, a city that, despite the relative proximity, the film buff knew largely from classic and cult films situated there. When he arrived, he kept digging into that cinematic past-Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye, with John Williams' classic theme, or classic 90s movies about East LA, many featuring Edward James Olmos. They shaped his understanding of his new town just as it began to open. This is one pillar of the multivalent and endlessly lush La La La, Marinero's new album about sobriety, identity, and fantasy that is playfully named both for the city that helped shape it and the sophisticated pop it contains. Sylvester wrote about characters outside of himself, whether considering the heroine reckoning with her own version of keeping clean or the screenwriters whose work was deemed communist simply as a political convenience. He linked those songs with motivational anthems about self-acceptance and playful numbers about flirting through food, shaping a 12-song set rich with humor, empathy, and encouragement. Sure, La La La is a continuation of the slippery genre play Sylvester started with 2021's Hella Love, 2019's Trópico de Cáncer, or even before that. But it also feels like a fresh beginning for Marinero, as Sylvester realizes how boundless this project can be. He began to think about the music of his childhood, how his mother is from San Francisco with Mexican roots, and how he'd heard so much salsa growing up as an impetuous teenager. So he wrote "Taquero," a red-hot salsa tune that uses tacos and their trappings as a source of endless metaphors for come-ons. And then there was the Ray Barreto or Santana-inspired "Pocha Pachanga," with organ gliding and percussion pulsing beneath his yearning vocals, warped as if by desert winds. In Los Angeles, he found a wealth of players who spoke this music like language itself (including Chicano Batman's Eduardo Arenas), all ready to play with and push these familiar forms. Sylvester has also been sober for 21 years, since a cross-country sojourn to attend college in Boston ended in a chemical haze. Today, he sees friends facing the same decisions he made two decades ago, and he brings bits of that experience to bear in songs that feel like self-help anthems. Recorded with a musical hero (and labelmate) of his, Chris Cohen, "Sea Changes" feels like sunshine breaking through dark clouds, as Sylvester acknowledges the newfound confidence and clarity in a friend who has stepped away from destructive habits. In the past, Sylvester has been intractably linked to his identity as a Mexican-American, born to parents from Mexico and Irish- American descent who settled in San Francisco. That can be limiting, of course, tying him to notions of sound and style that aren't always correct. On La La La, he simultaneously steps into and out of those preconceptions, singing tracks above salsa in joyous Spanish or pondering the dynamics of the Hollywood Ten and blacklists above mysterious lap steel and teasing trumpet. His identity, then, should now be clear: He is a Californian, making music shaped by the diversity of encounters and experiences that are a central part of that state's fabric. Never before has he presented himself so fully and unabashedly on tape as with La La La, an album Sylvester built with new inspirations to deliver new charms.

Celebrate the 5th anniversary of Avengers: Endgame, featuring a powerful score by Alan Silvestri on purple vinyl.

Founded by Matt Hodgson in the mid 90s, 7th Voyage quickly became a cult imprint.
 Despite a modest catalogue, the label earned a devoted following among vinyl collectors. Revered for its raw energy and timeless quality, these records have become treasured, often commanding hundreds of euros on the second hand market - some of the rarest electro tracks out there for those who know…

London based Hodgson, a passionate music lover and vinyl purist, poured his heart and soul into every release, crafting records that resonated deeply within London’s underground scene of the 90s. Following the recent reissue on Sushitech, Matt and Yossi have joined forces to present a
retrospective 7th Voyage release on Pariter, a label sharing a natural synergy with the ethos of 7th Voyage, this release honours the legacy of Matt’s work while breathing new life into these rare and sought-after tracks.

‘The Return Voyage’ is a carefully curated compilation of seven standout tracks from the label’s back catalogue, encapsulating its signature sound and unique musical journey.

The influence of the UK’s Steel City on electronic music is well documented and undisputed and continues to push the envelope with key figures such as Winston Hazel (Forgemasters, The Step), DJ Parrot/Crooked Man, Richard Benson (RAC, SWAG, Altern 8), Chris Duckenfield (RAC, Popular Peoples Front, SWAG, All Ears Distribution), a thriving underground club scene and the likes of Synaptic Voyager reinforcing the city’s rich musical legacy.

Matt White and Paul Baines have been making off-kilter, emotive, late night electronic jams since meeting in the early 90’s and while life took them on different paths for a while, they have recently blown the thick layer of dust from their synths and drum machines and got busy in the studio to create some amazing new music which draws influence from that classic UK techno sound which played such an important part in the development of dance music culture around the world. With recent releases on Frame Of Mind, Acquit and Telomere Plastic the duo are clearly on a roll, wearing the heritage of their city on their sleeve and delivering what can only be described as heartfelt, authentic machine music made with love and soul.

From the opening beats of lead track Dawn Till Dusk we are drawn in to another place which feels comfortably familiar yet organic, fluid and loose in a way that tugs on the heartstrings. A million miles from cookie-cutter tech house, this is two guys in a bedroom studio, digging deep on hardware machines to create a sound to get completely lost in. Lonely Promontory takes things deeper still with immersive pads, taught electro beats and blissed-out melodic lines which give just hint of optimism and recall those beloved sounds of B12, Redcell and Likemind.

Flipping over we have Stellar Engine which goes a littler heavier on the beats and bass whilst still retaining a floating quality, once again highlighting the hardware jam workflow that Synaptic Voyager utilise in their studio. Once Exposed takes us back to those heady days of the early 90’s when techno, house and ambient electronics combined to create a heady blend of deep atmospherics and driving beats which could work on both dance floors and car stereos alike. Rounding off the EP we have Cognitive Network which goes for a straighter four on the floor techno groove and a killer bassline to lose yourself in. These recordings were delivered to the label in unedited long form (some tracks totalling 15 minutes or more in length!) which Jimpster lovingly edited into the versions which you hear on this release.

For the first 47 release of 2025, Grenoble-based artist Pause makes his debut on Tommy Four Seven’s imprint. Known for crafting deep, pulsating techno, 47044 sees Pause deliver more heavy yet sophisticated slabs of bass, slinking between rugged, airy grooves and elegant sound design. The 5-tracker also sees Pause explore territories beyond his trademark steady-paced, hypnotic sound via the off-kilter closer, culminating in a polyrhythmic wormhole. 47044 is out February 14th, available as vinyl and download

very rare 12" vinyl double album in pink coloured vinyl !!!!!

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.