Suche:refuse

Not just a follow-up. Tar 23 shows the duo's distinct style and artistic progression.

“Refuse”:
A unique sound that could be described as “Breakbeat Soul" O.Love's instruments and vocal prowess take centre stage, showcasing a fusion of live instruments & soulful vocals re-arranged and remixed with original breaks and beats by DJ DSK!

"Tonight":
A catchy rootsy original reggae tune, featuring lyrics that exude positivity and soulfulness. It receives the remix treatment from DJ DSK, who infuses it with heavy beats and luscious dub elements. The result is a speaker-shaking, dancefloor rocker!

Legendary lost glitter-punk! - Once called the Doll's front man's favorite
band, these glamazons released one coveted 45 in the early 70s and
you'll pay close to four figures for one
Turns out they cut eight more studio cuts all stronger than that single! With
gender fluid cuts about S&M, spray paint, and bubble gum, this high heeled kick to
the teeth finally leaps from glammy glitter punk myth to your turntable on lipstick
pink vinyl & CD! Includes a 15 page liner note zine with the LP! .

Jurek Przedziecki's solo Epi Centrum project thunders back with a brand new LP out on Damon Wild's Synewave Records imprint. After a handful of enthusiastically received (supported by, among others, Laurent Garnier, DJ Hell and Joey Beltram) records on numerous renowned Euro labels, Warsaw-based classically trained composer and Buchla System 200e affictionado, delivers a massive dose of muscular-yet obsessively detailed acid funk techno. His 8-tracker - Excrescence" mixes old and new, tapping on seminal Detroit retrofuturism and heavy-duty pounding mania. One can also hear ghostly echoes of his 90s post-industrial faves like Coil or SPK. Record, quite varied in itself, ranging from relentless bangers ('Association') to mental acid cuts ('Blaming Others') and slow bass pulsations ('Limited Useful Life'), should fit nicely in the Synewave repertoire. Simply unmissable.

Dez Andrés, Detroit’s underground legend and genre-blurring maestro is back with another batch of reworked old skool bangers.

Since the late '90s, Dez has built a respectable catalog that blurs the boundaries between genres. One of motor city’s most prolific artists, his music can be summed up in one word: quality. Now he returns to DFM with a two-sided heater.


Dez flips Odyssey’s classic Native New Yorker into a gritty dembow style club weapon. With iconic vocal lines and signature piano riff, Dez injects his signature bounce and percussive punch, turning this disco anthem into a raw dancefloor destroyer.
Diving deeper, Dez revives Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band’s classic Sun Showers, transforming it into a rhythmic, power groove tailor-made for sweaty basements, rooftop sets and smoke filled dance floors on red-lit nights that refuse to end.

Gnod's now twenty year journey through spiritual and audial exploration has been driven by relentless curiosity, magpie irreverence and a fierce countercultural imperative, their project has always refused to acknowledge all or any rules and boundaries, internal or external. The latest adventure of this band may never have been intended to celebrate their two-decade anniversary, but in true Gnod fashion by, what began as a trip into a residential studio setup in Hellfire Studios with producer John `Spud' Murphy (Lankum, Black MIDI, Caroline) for six days, resulted in more potent material than anyone bargained for. The end result has been three studio albums to be released over the next year. "This trilogy revealed itself to us in the studio" says Paddy. "We were hoping to get a good album out of the session and lo and behold we got three of the fuckers. It's interesting that we did pretty much capture the full spectrum of the Gnod sound across all three". In fact, this intrepid first instalment of the `Chronicles Of Gnowt' trilogy covers an alarming amount of sonic territory all on its own. Driven as always by the power of repetition as well as Gnod's alchemical marriage of the maximal and the minimal, this album is imbued with a vivid focus that's testimony to the chemistry of the sessions, coupled with a detailed and spacious production from Murphy that brings out the psychedelic sound worlds of the band in vivid colour. This is a travelogue which delves into pastoral tranquillity (as on `Three Trees Parts 1&2') just as adeptly as expansive Earth-tinged riff monoliths (`All Tunnel No Light') and just as formidably as the closing epic `Ekstasis' - a hallucinatory vista where kraut-tinged experimentalism meets Swans-style intensity. Yet all the while, truly sounding like no one but Gnod.

Some grooves don’t rush to the dancefloor — they crawl there, slow and heavy, like smoke wrapping around a bassline. With Fragments of Reality, The Balek Band sculpt an electronic funk that lives between shadow and light — an end-of-the-world fever dream, a Barjavel-style Ravage where chaos turns nihilistic.

No sequencer grid here — just four musicians sharing the same room, shaping air and tension together: drums locked tight with a slap bass, a guitar dripping with echo and heat, and a one-man orchestra behind his machines, weaving acid lines and synth arpeggios while mixing the band live — drenching it in delay, reverb, and saturation, like a dub producer in a Kingston studio, Lee Scratch Perry or King Tubby conjuring ghosts through smoke.

This isn’t fusion — it’s friction. A living ritual where the TB-303 hums, and machines don’t dominate but converse with the human pulse. Each track feels like a night that refuses to end — that humid in-between where trance slips into languor, and the body starts to think for itself.

The record recalls the cosmic jazz of Alain Mion or Eddy Louiss meeting the fiery energy of West African afrobeat musicians freshly arrived in a smoky Belleville basement in the mid-’80s. When The Balek Band summon ghosts, it’s only to reshape them — bending the past into something futuristic, alive, and strangely refreshing. Both disciplined and delirious, Fragments of Reality feels like a promise at dawn: dark funk for the late hours, slow acid for warm blood.

This EP isn’t nostalgic, though it remembers. It’s a transmission from a parallel past — a moment when jazz players met drum machines and decided never to stop playing. Each note sweats, each rhythm breathes. You can almost see the light cutting through the haze, faces half-awake, half-possessed.

The Balek Band aren’t recreating a moment — they’re keeping it alive.
Flesh and cables. Impulse and patience.
A band, not a loop.
A trip, not a format.

Guidelines launches its 2026 schedule with a heavyweight two-tracker from Toby Ross, pairing two cuts built for very different corners of the dance.

On the A-side, “Can’t Do It” lands as a straight-up dancefloor heater rolling low-end pressure, clipped vocal stabs and a hook that locks in quickly and refuses to let go. Built with peak-time intent, it’s direct, physical and engineered to hit hard on proper systems.

Flip it over and “Interruption” dives headfirst into classic amen territory. Chopped, urgent and restless, the track drives forward on tight edits and raw break energy, balancing precision programming with that unmistakable rough-edge jungle feel.

Together the two tracks showcase Ross’ approach: future-focused jungle rooted in foundation sounds — modern production, classic DNA, and zero filler.

It's 5 AM. The golden hour. That moment suspended on the lips of the night that is leaving us. Where the dance still refuses to die as sweat dries, bodies float and minds drift. Some immerse themselves in the dripping surroundings while others emerge or pretend. Outside, nature reclaims its rights. When the moon sets over Kizipolis, the music doesn't stop: it transforms us.

To celebrate our 10th anniversary, the pillars of the label were invited to compose the track they would play at this precise moment. The one that no longer seeks to prove itself, that accompanies the ebb of shadows, connecting the senses to the light.

Kizipolis Vol.1 is the soundtrack to an imaginary but familiar city, a city where raving is a way of life, where music acts as a climate, where at 5am, anything is still possible.

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

The new sublabel from ERROR404 debuts with a Various Artists, full of raw, hypnotic and unpredictable sounds.

Tracks that refuse to be easily classified... stop searching.

William Onyeabor was born outside Enugu, a small, rural town in Eastern Nigeria, he created his own genre of African electronic funk in the late 70s and early 80s, making music completely unique for his time. Today, he is reaching cult status among a growing list of admirers, including everyone from Damon Albarn and Hot Chip to Carl Craig and Madlib, with some likening him to the Kraftwerk of West Africa, or a precursor to LCD Soundsystem.

Among the crate-digging few that knew of him, he is considered a complete myth. While he has never performed live and almost never given interviews, his fantastical biography is scattered and has to this day not been verified. And, though he is still alive, he refuses to speak about anything regarding the past.

According to various rumors, he left home following the Biafran War and went to study cinematography in the Soviet Union, returning in the mid-70s to start his own film company and record label, Wilfilms. He then self-released eight remarkable records from 1978-1985. He wrote and produced everything on his own, and possibly played every instrument himself. Then, at some point of his life, he became born again and denounced his earlier music, deciding it is something he would never speak about.

At the core of the creative process behind “HPC” and “Bor3d” lies meta-irony, a quality that permeates much of today’s digital content landscape.

Both tracks are a deliberate attempt to push the sound toward a barely perceptible absurdity and ironic unseriousness in their interpretation of well-familiar styles of dance club music. It is a play with form, expectation, and recognizability — balancing sincerity with sarcastic exaggeration.

Okay
Okay is built around interruption. Voices, fragments of dialogue, yawns, irritation — people seem to step inside the track uninvited. Someone is bored, someone is annoyed, someone tries to stop the flow entirely. Just like in real life, the process is constantly disrupted. The track reflects the experience of being surrounded by opinions, noise, and skepticism — especially the kind that will never be convinced, no matter what you do. “Okay” becomes a quiet, ironic response to this pressure: not agreement, not approval, but endurance. The track continues anyway.

Tripatura
Tripatura is a fictional creature — a warped echo of cryptid mythology. In this narrative, Tripatura doesn’t simply exist, it hunts. Once it finds you, it drags you into an endless trip with no exit point. Time stretches, perception blurs, and the track itself becomes the trap. Its prolonged, unresolved ending mirrors the experience of being stuck inside a loop that refuses closure. Tripatura doesn’t rush. It lingers, slowly pulling you deeper, until the trip no longer feels temporary.

For its 30th anniversary, Kruder & Dorfmeister’s DJ-Kicks is available for the first time in mixed form on 3LP, remastered by Bernie Grundman and packaged in a special box set including original imagery. Kruder & Dorfmeister's rendition of the series created an era defining moment, which tied together a glowing array of musical registers. The Viennese downtempo royalty blended a fusion of slowed down moments across many genres with rolling Drum and Bass from the likes of Aquasky, the melting acid lines of deep Hardfloor and the 90s boom bap sampling, smoked out atmospherics of Thievery Corporation amongst many more.

These masters of mood channeled the sound of a moment with their DJ-Kicks, which still retains a certified cinematic sheen, the patina of the real – curation and mixing at its most playful and refined. It remains to this day one of the most recognizable DJ-Kicks and mixes of all time. Containing two certified cuts from K&D themselves; the wooze is strong on “High Noon” with Dorfmeister's intoxicating jazz flute licks and a trembling harmonica atop a mirage of breaks. Their DJ-Kicks original and legendary tune “Black Baby” closes the mix providing a piece of grandeur, riding off into the distance deep to the vanishing point.

When the mix dropped in 1996, the slo-beat pioneers were among the hottest producers in the dance universe. Even though they only produced two unreleased maxis, names like Count Basie, Bomb The Bass, Alex Reece or United Future Organization had some of their tracks remixed by these exceptional producers. Rumour has it during the work for DJ-Kicks and their debut album they refused doing remixes for U2, Grace Jones, Elvis Costello and the Fantastic Four! ‘DJ-Kicks: Kruder & Dorfmeister’ took its place in the pantheon a long while back, effortless in its ability to traverse sounds, styles and tempos while retaining a selection which remains timelessly recognisable as: Kruder & Dorfmeister.

With Motions, Black Flower presents a unique EP, a compact collection of musical organisms that simply insisted on coming into the world. During the creation of their latest LP Kinetic, an abundance of ideas emerged, far more than could fit on the album. Among these half-formed sketches were a few striking pieces with such a strong character that they refused to be left behind, and some even grew into band favourites.

Diagonal Walk, for instance, has long opened the Kinetic live set while on tour in Europe, despite not appearing on the record itself. The band loved playing it so much that they decided to bring it to its full potential: mixing it, mastering it, and ultimately giving it a physical release. The result is a track where energy swells and breaks in waves, offering groove, colour and deft counterpoint.

That momentum also elevated Out of One, Many, a meditation on polyrhythm and shimmering harmony, as well as Trip to the Store. Both pieces were further developed and now complete this new collection of tracks. The time between full studio albums has proved creatively rich for Black Flower. Motions stands as a vibrant statement of kinetic energy, and the band is thrilled to finally share it with the world.

Marking his vinyl debut on Lowpass, Berlin-based producer APRS steps forward after a run of striking releases on labels such as Soma, ARTS and Sungate.

“Drift” explores human emotions through drums, melodies and textures with five pieces that refuse to settle into one shape. Each track bends the EP in a new direction without breaking its thread, holding onto a sense of vastness, detail and intimacy. Andy Martin closes the record with a remix that widens the palette even further, pushing the material into heavier terrain while keeping its spirit intact.

LWP001 is less a declaration than a first gesture. Intuition over uniformity; a label shaped by instinct, variation and space; a place for artists to wander and for sound to evolve freely.

WRWTFWW Records is ecstatic to announce a limited edition vinyl release of the remarkable PONYBOI (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) by Chilean-born composer, arranger, music producer, and multi-instrumentalist Cristobal "Cristo" Tapia de Veer (The White Lotus, Utopia, Smile, Black Mirror, and many more).
This collector's edition presents Tapia de Veer's complete original score for the critically acclaimed feature film PONYBOI - a bold, genre-defying neo-noir tale directed by Esteban Arango and and starring filmmaker, actor, screenwriter, model, and intersex rights activist River Gallo who also wrote the movie. The soundtrack arrives as a deluxe audiophile vinyl LP, housed in a luxurious 350gsm gold cardboard sleeve, cut with utmost precision by Sidney Claire Meyer at the legendary Emil Berliner Studios, home to Deutsche Grammophon's world-renowned legacy.
Vivid, seductive, gritty, dreamy, tender, and sometimes heart-pounding in its tension, the PONYBOI soundtrack is a sinuous creature of its own - an emotional, atmospheric, and deeply textural listening experience. Tapia de Veer fuses shimmering electronics with haunting melodies, raw rhythms, shadowy ambience, and surges of romantic intensity, perfectly embodying the film's world of danger, desire, identity, and survival on a single wild New Jersey night. It's daring, intimate, stylishly noir, and unmistakably Cristo: music that refuses boundaries and speaks directly to the pulse.
The LP showcases Cristobal Tapia de Veer's uncanny ability to blend experimental sound design with narrative emotion - a talent that has earned him global acclaim and numerous awards, including four Primetime Emmy Awards for The White Lotus.
This new WRWTFWW edition celebrates his artistry in its purest form: warm, rich, analog, and physically stunning. A must for soundtrack fanatics, ambient and experimental music lovers, and rare memorabilia collectors.

In the evolving landscape of modern Southern hip-hop, the pairing of Starlito and Bandplay stands out as a unique bridge between street-level authenticity and refined, calculated musicality. Their collaborative project, Not The Country You Know, functions less like a standard release and more as a manifesto—a masterclass in the chemistry between a seasoned, introspective lyricist and a producer who possesses an intuitive grasp of the region's pulse. It is an exploration of legacy and adaptation, capturing the tension between where they came from and where the culture is currently headed.

Bandplay, long recognized for sculpting the sonic identity of Memphis icons, brings his signature, trunk-rattling 808s to the project, yet he manages to pivot here. The production feels remarkably expansive, masterfully blending the raw, stripped-back aesthetics of classic Tennessee rap with forward-thinking textures that refuse to be confined to a single sub-genre. Complementing this, Starlito operates with his trademark mix of cynical observation and genuine vulnerability. He navigates these beats with the weary grace of an artist who has weathered the music industry's relentless cycles, treating every bar like a necessary piece of a larger, ongoing story.

The album’s title serves as a direct commentary on these shifting tides. Across the tracklist, the duo investigates the growing disparity between the romanticized South and the cold realities of the streets, alongside the inevitable evolution of the music business itself. There is no frantic chasing of streaming-era trends or algorithmic bait here; instead, the project remains a stubborn, confident assertion of artistic identity. By weaving together Starlito’s "voice-of-reason" flow and Bandplay’s evolving, genre-bending sound, Not The Country You Know challenges the listener to abandon their preconceived notions of the region, offering instead a complex, urgent vision of a South that is as haunting as it is vibrant.

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

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

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

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