Buscar:sim

The neon "pdqb Arcade" sign in Port Astra flickered with the same chaotic energy it had decades ago. Six men, now with more gray hair and worries than they once had, stood at the entrance. They were the "Lucky Six," reunited after years of scattered lives and separate paths.

"I can't believe this place is still here" said Noise, who had flown in from Tokyo. "It hasn't changed 8 bits, haha". CEM, now a father of 3340 synthesizers from Bari, replied with a grin. "We have. Look at Galaxian, he's unrecognizable!"

Each of them held a single, precious coin. Their plan, born of a wave of nostalgia and the understanding that they couldn't stay forever, was simple: one coin, one game, one last chance to be a legend. Each man would choose the game that meant the most to him and play the round of his life…

At the end, pdqb, the arcade owner, came up to the guys. "Don't be sad", he said. "Even if it was your last credit, there's always one more somewhere in some game". He then walked through the arcade and played four different machines that just happened to have an extra credit on them. "See?", he said.

Synaptic Cliffs proudly presents pdqb together with six black belt gamers (PRZ, Noise&Noise, Galaxian, CEM3340, Dark Vektor, Mesak), each a legend in their own right. They don't just replay pdqb's 8 1/2 Bit album; they become it. Together, they embark on a journey through legendary worlds, creating a place filled with soundscapes and challenges that blur the line between music and game. They move with the rhythm of the music and face the challenges within, weaving their own stories into the fabric of the iconic work.

His fourth album, City Music works as a counterpart to Morby’s acclaimed 2016 release Singing Saw, an autobiographical set that reflected the solitude and landscape in which it was recorded. Saw was imagined as “an old bookshelf with a young Bob and Joni staring back at me, blank and timeless. They live here, in this left side of my brain, smoking cigarettes and playing acoustic guitars while lying on an unmade bed.” And now follows City Music, the yang to its yin, the heads to its tails. It is a collection crafted using the other side of its creator’s brain, the jumping off point perhaps best once again encapsulated by an image. “Here, Lou Reed and Patti Smith stare out at the listener,” explains Morby. “Stretched out on a living room floor they are somewhere in mid-70s Manhattan, also smoking cigarettes.” It finds Morby exploring similar themes of solitude, but this time framed by a window of an uptown apartment that looks down upon an international urban landscape “exposed like a giant bleeding wound.”

Berlin’s ZentaSkai returns to his Mask Records with the ‘Billie’ EP, collaborating with Palawan, Jeremy Reinhard, and Thomas Grün for release on vinyl only, 2nd November 2025. He kicks off with the solo cut 'A1', which is quick, sophisticated, raw House with a funky clip to the beats that diffuses heat in the grainy sustained pads. It brings serene emotional release through stylish hypnosis and gorgeous vocals that blend seamlessly into the mix. Next, ZentaSkai collaborates with the mysterious Palawan, as he did on one track of his 2023 album The Architecture Of The Mind, on 'A2.' This one suspends you in backlit synth glows while rounded drums and funky claps tap out the supple rhythm. Cautious hope comes from the quiet chord stabs and soft focus melodies in what is a masterclass in deep Techno minimalism. 'B1' reunites ZentaSkai with Cologne's Jeremy Reinhard following previous cuts on that same 2023 album. Reinhard has long been a pillar of his local Berlin scene as a resident DJ, but also the wider underground with his own label Lekker Record. Their track taps into dub depths but ups the pace and allows radiant synths to piece the surface next to muttered spoken word that keep it intimate and perfectly seductive for body and mind. Last of all is a collab with Austrian Thomas Grün, who has been shaping deep and Tech House with his immaculate grooves for decades. Their 'B2' brings US garage snares to buoyant drums and douses them in layers of fuzzy synth warmth. It's meditative yet direct with an ever-rising sense of hope that makes it all the more indelible. ZentaSkai (aka No Mad Ronin, Matt Nowak, and MASK) is a German DJ and producer active since 1997. Based out of his studio in Berlin, ZentaSkai runs the Zaijenroots label and, since 2017, the Mask sub-label, which houses his stunning 2023 ‘Architecture of the Mind’ LP as well as his Cuddling Monsters project with Laura Merino Allue, who has been significantly involved in the label's work since 2023. - with other credits including a release on Jerome Sydenham’s Ibadan Records and support from the likes of Richie Hawtin, Joseph Capriati, Marcel Dettmann, Luke Slater, Laurent Garnier, DVS1, Ben Sims, and Radio Slave.

Discover the melancholic sound of Margitte

Hailing from the historic city of Ghent (BE), Margitte crafts a unique sonic tapestry that resonates with both ethereal and fierce. Think Portishead, Pj Harvey, The War on Drugs, St. Vincent and even Gainsbourg. Her music is a journey through scapes, blending haunting melodies with intricate electronic textures and poetic lyricism.

Margitte's sound is both timeless and contemporary, weaving together the mystical and the modern with a vision that is thought-provoking as it is emotionally stirring.
Her performances are true to her artistry and passion. Margitte is not just to be heard, but to be felt, lingering on in your ears long after the last notes faded.

Come and get it, join the haze.

SOUNDS LIKE: Laura Marling, Beach House, Warhaus, Gainsbourg, St. Vincent, Liv, Portishead, PJ Harvey, Nick Cave, Neil Frances, James Blake, David Byrne, Grace Jones, Kruangbin, The War on Drugs.

Credits:

Margot De Ridder: Voice, keys, composition
Artan Buleshkaj: Guitar
Simon Raman: Drums, Percussion
Annelies Emmerechts: Voice, keys

Artwork by Mwahrk

Mastered by Lieven Van Pée

AOKI takamasa and Tujiko Noriko’s 2005 album »28« has become a cornerstone in the artists’ respective discographies. 20 years after its initial release, Keplar issues it on vinyl for the very first time. Three years in the making, »28« saw the sound artist and the avant-pop singer-songwriter combine their distinct aesthetics for an album that defied categorisation. Their combination of advanced electronic experimentation and pop appeal paved the way for a new generation of artists and turned »28« into an enduring fan favourite. Remastered by Stephan Mathieu, the reissue comes with a brand-new artwork by Joji Koyama and a changed track listing—authorised by Takamasa and Tujiko—for the vinyl version to fit it on a single LP, while the digital version remains identical to the original release.

Tujiko and Takamasa first shared the stage together after the turn of the millennium. Both were emerging solo artists, with Takamasa a mainstay on the Progressive Form label and Tujiko forging a connection with Mego in Vienna, Austria. »I simply liked Noriko’s voice and music, and since we often performed at the same events, it felt like a natural progression for us to start working together,« remembers Takamasa. They first collaborated in 2002 for two shows at the Fondation Cartier in Paris and at SonarLab in Barcelona, respectively. The first joint piece was a rework of Tujiko’s »Fly« from »Hard Ni Sasete (Make Me Hard)« by Takamasa, appearing as the album opener »Fly2« on »28.«

After that, the Paris-based Tujiko and Takamasa, still based in Osaka, worked sporadically and remotely on new material. For the first two years of their collaboration, the two met in the context of live events or Takamasa’s visits to the French capital to discuss their process and exchange hard drives while also occasionally sending each other CDrs in the mail. »Aoki made beats and sounds that complemented my music perfectly, building the foundation on which my voice could float,« Tujiko says today. Takamasa used hardware such as the Nord Modular, the Korg Z1, and the Korg ER-1, while also working with different kinds of software and plug-ins as well as Logic. Tujiko was using Cubase, her preferred piece of gear at the time being an AKAI MPC.

After Takamasa moved to Paris in 2004, this enabled the duo to finish the album together in person. Starting with its subtle use of glitches to the almost-anarchic way in which it deals with the structures of a song, »28« came to be an incomparably intricate album. 20 years on, it remains timeless because of its flawless synthesis of the cutting-edge avant-garde ideas of early 2000s electronica with an idiosyncratic but accessible pop sentiment. Both artists look back fondly—though not uncritically, with Takamasa noting a certain »youthfulness« in his contributions—to the album that was titled after their respective age at that time. »Maybe we should make ›51‹ now?,« quips Tujiko. See you in three years, perhaps.

180GR./GATEFOLD SLEEVE/12 PAGE BOOKLET/20 TRACKS/COLOURED VINYL

For his last solo record ‘Through a Room’, Bill Nace shifted his usual saturated guitar sound and added tapes, hurdy gurdy, doughnut pipe, bird calls and the mysterious Japanese taishōgoto. Setting up for the final night of his three day residency at OTO with only the taishōgoto soundchecked, Nace hoped that Parker would arrive with his small soprano as its opposite. “I’ve been interested in state change, you know, playing until there’s a shift in time.” Known for his development of multiphonics to produce a constantly shifting pattern, Evan Parker has evolved an instantly recognizable sound - his work the soprano most distinct. Happily, it was the soprano Evan brought with him and as soon as the two start to play they entwine - taking off in a double helix of keys and reed primed for endless reconfiguration. Space warps under the velocity of playing, the pitch rising unrelentingly. It felt like unending lift off in the room, sheer energy until the last note makes remember your feet have been on the floor the whole time. Total time bending shredding.

–

"They had never played together before. They had never even met each other before this springtime 2024 concert at London’s Café Oto.

Evan Parker, circular breathing maestro of the saxophone, a legend in the universe that is Free Improvisation since the late 1960s and Bill Nace, one of the most intriguing experimental “noise” guitarists of the 1990s/2000s underground scene.

For those of us who have been enamored by the live and documented work of both these gents, this Café Oto duo was a must-hear event. It could have gone anywhere musically and that would have been totally fine. Particularly with Evan having a history of being thrown into a variety of challenging collaborations throughout his career, employing the learned elegance of trust in his own sensitivity to listening, responding, leading, following, sparring, intertwining, dialoguing, creating in the instant and, essentially, dignifying the non-hierarchical grace of chance.

The aesthetics of socialist consideration in Evan Parker’s playing, in his community of expanded and personal technique, for a younger player such as Bill Nace, strikes an exemplary model. This notion of respect would be entirely the reason Nace, when offered a residency at the most critical “new music” room in England, would request to play in duo with Parker.

Bill Nace came to prominence mostly during the apex of experimental music activity in and around Western Massachusetts in the early days of the aughts, with a focus on visual art and free improvisation guitar action. He could be found in the daytime hours, his head hanging down over a notepad, penning fine-tuned illustrations and abstract line drawings, while in the evenings he’d be attending any number of basement noise gigs, many of which he’d be participating in. His guitar style came across as being informed as much as by the physicality of his writing utensils in friction to the page as it was to his hearing and redefining of radical recordings ranging anywhere from the Black Unity Group to Black Flag.

Utilizing various metal files and other small cylindrical objects Bill would allow his guitar and amplifier to be in tandem with the improvisatory movements of his body as the instrument balanced, intentionally and, at times, precariously, upon his lap. The performances came across thrilling and daring and they would be mostly in the context of venues nothing more than a low-ceilinged damp and dank New England basement, a clutch of people hanging onto rusty pipes or sitting up on dilapidated washer/dryer machines, the shards of Bill’s “file guitar” sounds ringing out like the most alive music on Earth.

By the time Bill reached Café Oto in early 2024 he had relocated to Philadelphia all the while releasing a succession of collaborative LPs on his Open Mouth label to present his developing progression of solo and collaborative work. He also would find himself considerably engaged with playing the electric taishōgoto, a keyboard-activated string instrument from Japan which can exist as a one, two, four, five, or six string oblong sound object. Bill’s approach to the taishōgoto would not be too unlike his approach to the traditional electric guitar, though no outboard implements such as files, sticks, and rocks are utilized. The similarity would lie wholly with Bill’s full immersion of high velocity action-playing where, with the taishōgoto, an electric drone beauty occurs. The flurry of sonics and resultant harmonics emanating from the amplifier (which Bill opts to dial into with borderline loud-as fuck volume settings) furthers the meta-mantra properties of the instrument in an astounding display of drone dynamism.

This sound world of Bill’s two-stringed taishōgoto on this Café Oto night worked beautifully with Evan Parker’s improvisatory saxophone conceptions. The duology achieved instant lift off at ground zero only to find it’s eventual finale as if it were organically ordained. Time seemingly morphed from its ancient human construct of control, rendered inconsequential to the torrential transcendence of the room wildly activated by the magic resonance of the multi-directional pan-spatial sonance of the music as if it were some beatific blessing. It was one of those nights where art as a liberating force of spirit gifted the listeners with an offering of exaltation and joy. It was entirely mystical and mind blowing. A night of Total Music."

Thurston Moore, London, 2025

Slip is Paul Abbott’s response to his 3 day residency at OTO in 2023. It’s a continued exploration of the acoustic-digital hybrid drum setup Abbott has been developing for some time, which involves drum kit and synthetic sounds combined closely—through an entanglement of limbs and cables—in an intimate but strange relationship with each other.

Paul Abbott hasn’t had any formal musical training, but has a long history of making music, having collaborated for years with Seymour Wright, Pat Thomas, Michael Speers, Cara Tolmie, Anne Gillis and many others. Eventually, led by a profound suspicion of what is fixed or limited, Abbott began finding other ways to organise sound - or what he calls ‘material’:

“I wanted a way to 'persuade' or guide the possibility of something happening - my activity or the events of an algorithmic composition - for example, but without certainty or formalism. It felt to me, during playing, that certain ideas had a particular sort of shape, but more than the form of a line. I began to write alongside (before/after) playing the drums, and ‘characters’ began to enter the scene as a more wobbly, and therefore appropriate option to notation. Working with these characters allowed me to simultaneously approach body, imagination, language and music: without dividing things up or separating these aspects from each other. It allowed me to leave things messy and entangled, whilst trying to deal with form and specificity: wanting to have some things feel or respond differently to other things at other times.”

In approaching his residency, Abbott developed a fixed cast of characters - crystal, lleaf, reiy.F, reiy.C, strike, nee, qosel, sphu and aahn. They each communicate using different kinds of movement and drum kit/s, and Abbott choreographed them as ‘dances’ based on different feelings, or outlines of behaviours suggestive of ways of moving (body, drums, sounds). He then arranged these characters into ‘compositions’: one for each performance day, with each composition featuring multi-layered activity - options for behaviours, ways to move around the rooms, play drums, develop synthetic sounds, change the lights or re-distribute the sound in the space.

After the performances, Abbott took home 9 hours of recordings split into up to 28 multitrack channels for each day, and re-organised his cast once more into a performance for 2LP, CD and digital. It’s an enormous amount of work - but Abbott is activated by the process. For him, the pleasure of unstable edges, possibilities, slippages, is the vital attraction. Like all living organisms, Abbott’s characters have malleability and responsivity. They stimulate a bundle of possible behaviours, a tendency to act a certain way, a temperament, a boundary of respective limits or affordances.

It’s an affective way of working, inclusive of Roscoe Mitchell, Sun Ra, Nathaniel Mackey and Milford Graves. In ‘Pulseology’(2022), Milford Graves reminds us, ‘Breath varies, so cardiac rhythm never has that (metronomic) tempo. It’s always changing. All the alignments of the heart are determined based on the needs of the cells, specifically tissues and organs. The heart knows if it needs to speed up.’ In Slip, to slip, in a heartbeat, is to descend not into the grid of the even metre accorded to the heartbeat, but into a play of mutability and modality. To change is the condition of the heart.

One Instrument welcomes Morning Seance, composer and sound artist, originally from Italy and based in Vienna. On this debut LP, Morning Seance traces a drifting narrative composed of unstable harmonies, fluid structures, and ghostlike forms. The album unfolds like a dream told in fragments, oscillating between fluctuating pulses and decaying transmissions, from nocturnal stillness to acoustic mirages. The first half of the record moves through zones of suspended tension and evanescent contours, where tracks like “Be faster than your own depression” and “The tenderness of our own autobiography” sketch fragile architectures of affect. The second half enters a more spectral terrain — “Breakfast in a night club,” “A visit to the Brion-Vega tomb” — not places, but agglomerates of sonic sensation, detached from any personal frame.

With each piece, the music dissolves and reconstitutes itself, resisting finality or form, and doing so with an indestructible joy that hums beneath the wreckage. This is degenerate ambient music: anti-geometric and subject to emotional weather — not a refuge, but a slow collapse of structure and purity, where atmosphere gives way to excess and disobedience.

The album is crafted entirely from a single source: the Roland Alpha Juno-1. Despite this constraint, it achieves a vast sound spectrum, transforming one synthesizer’s voice into a layered landscape of textures and moods.

The electronic music of Morning Seance is built on constant variation and intricate, looping patterns with no clear beginning or end. This variation is not simply applied to an audio element, but enacted as a compositional logic — avoiding mechanical combinations and obvious rhythms. The result is a mutable mass of audio matter and tonal debris, guiding the listener through richly divergent environments.

Utilizing only guitar, bass and drums, Papir conjure vast and melodic soundscapes while still maintaining a krautrock drive. One of the most unique bands in the modern European psych rock scene, they continue to innovate as they refine their sound with each album. Copenhagen"s foremost aural travelers are back and bearing new music. True to their distinct sound, Papir return with another chapter in their ongoing sonic journey. Terms like post-rock, ambient rock, psychedelia, and krautrock may circle their sound, but none quite capture its shimmering, elusive magic. IX is a wide-open record in every sense. From the flowing compositions - which linger but never overstay, jam and unfold organically - to the wonderful airy production, you get the sense of being both in studio with the band and simultaneously on the beach with wind blowing through your hair. In addition to the ever free-flowing nature of the band"s live recordings, additions such as synthesizer or extra percussion appear always tastefully right when needed, adding the perfect seasoning on top.

Recorded in concert at the University of Sheffield in March 2025, Reality Is Not A Theory is the first collaboration between Mark Fell and Pat Thomas. Major figures in British experimental music since the 1990s, Fell and Thomas have developed their rigorous practices from radically different backgrounds and perspectives: where Fell’s singular take on synthetic abstraction emerged from Sheffield’s electronic underground, Thomas is a virtuoso improvising pianist steeped in jazz and modernist art music who has simultaneously worked with sampler-based electronics for decades. As the record’s wonderfully academic subtitle explains, we are presented here with two sides of ‘algorithmic and improvised music for computer and piano’, exemplifying both players’ insatiable search for new (and sometimes uncomfortable) playing situations.

The performance begins with Fell’s electronics close to the timbres of acoustic percussion, attacks that suggest wood, metal or glass threaded along a rapid pulse while Thomas focuses on the lowest registers of the piano, deadening the strings. As Fell’s electronics start to ring out and occupy more harmonic space, Thomas turns to wide, repeated clusters, which slowly expand into patterns of chords. Like in his recent solo recordings and his trio work with Joel Grip and Anton Gerbal, Thomas’ playing combines extreme dissonance with a deep lyrical sense. Fell’s work gradually shifts its focus toward drum sounds, drawing on the microtemporal processes that have characterized his practice in recent decades. Heard together with Thomas’ probing piano, the computer sounds call up unexpected associations with the klangfarben antics of improv drummers like Paul Lovens or Tony Oxley. Throughout its second half, the music grows increasingly frenetic, as Thomas sounds out rapid, irregularly repeated figures and beautifully sour chords in the upper register, while Fell’s percussion develops into angular pan-pipe-like feedback and waves of glissandi.

With great confidence and patience, Fell and Thomas often let their individual contributions remain rhythmically distinct and unsynchronised, allowing unexpected correspondence and coincidence to guide the music’s development. Recorded in a hall named after Sheffield steel manufacturer and Master Cutler Mark Firth, the location might suggest a model for understanding how Fell and Thomas interact here: two workers in the same workshop, each immersed in their own part of the production process. Arriving in a striking sleeve designed by Mark Fell, with liner notes by Francis Plagne, Reality Is Not A Theory is an invigorating document of the meeting of two mavericks of contemporary music.

The story begins with Kevin Morby absentmindedly flipping through a box of old family photos in the basement of his childhood home in Kansas City. Just hours before, at a family dinner, his father had collapsed in front of him and had to be rushed to the hospital. That night Morby still felt the shock and fear lodged in his bones. So he gazed at the images until one of the pictures jumped out at him: his father as a young man, proud and strong and filled with confidence, posing on a lawn with his shirt off. This was in January of 2020. As the months went on and the world dramatically changed around him, Morby felt an eerie similarity between his feelings of that night and the atmosphere of those spring days. Fear, anxiety, hope and resilience all churning together. The themes began twisting in his mind. History, trauma and the grand fight against time. Having the courage to dream, even while knowing the tragedy that often awaits those who dare to dream. While his father regained his strength, Morby meditated on these ideas. And then, he headed to Memphis. He moved into the Peabody Hotel and spent his days paying tribute and genuflecting to the dreamers he admired. In the evening, he would return to his room and document his ideas on a makeshift recording set-up, with just his guitar and a microphone. The songs, elegiac in nature, befitting all he had seen, poured out of him.Produced by Sam Cohen (who also worked on Morby’s Singing Saw and Oh My God), This Is A Photograph features musical contributions from longtime staples of Morby’s live band, as well as old friends and new collaborators alike. If Oh My God saw Morby getting celestial and in constant motion and Sundowner was a study in localized intent, This Is A Photograph finds Morby making an Americana paean, a visceral life and death, blood on the canvas outpouring. As Morby reminds us early on, time is undefeated. So what do we do while we’re still here? This is a photograph of that sense of yearning

Seven Blood make music that manages to move the listener despite its hard-hitting sounds. Metal meets Emo-Core. Their songs revive the seemingly lost connection between volume and emotionality. However, they refrain from imitating existing bands and create their own sound, which complements the music of their youth with the band's own character. It all started in spring 2023. Anfy, Azaria, and Oli were going through strong personal crises, had known each other for several years, and decided to do what helps most in such a situation: process the pain together through songwriting. Shortly after, Josi joined and completed the band. Their lyrics deal with personal struggles and observations of our society, whether it's the toxicity of individuals or the ignorant attitude of an entire species. Seven Blood embed these lyrics in a brutal wall of sound that gives their thoughtfulness a furious undertone. The combined force of drums, bass, and guitar rises behind the vocals and is complemented by the ethereal and sometimes biting sounds of fanfares and synths. All of this culminates in a musical high that gives the listener the feeling that everything, and simultaneously nothing, is okay.

Seven Blood make music that manages to move the listener despite its hard-hitting sounds. Metal meets Emo-Core. Their songs revive the seemingly lost connection between volume and emotionality. However, they refrain from imitating existing bands and create their own sound, which complements the music of their youth with the band's own character. It all started in spring 2023. Anfy, Azaria, and Oli were going through strong personal crises, had known each other for several years, and decided to do what helps most in such a situation: process the pain together through songwriting. Shortly after, Josi joined and completed the band. Their lyrics deal with personal struggles and observations of our society, whether it's the toxicity of individuals or the ignorant attitude of an entire species. Seven Blood embed these lyrics in a brutal wall of sound that gives their thoughtfulness a furious undertone. The combined force of drums, bass, and guitar rises behind the vocals and is complemented by the ethereal and sometimes biting sounds of fanfares and synths. All of this culminates in a musical high that gives the listener the feeling that everything, and simultaneously nothing, is okay.

ORANGE SWIRL VINYL

Public Memory is the solo project of Brooklyn's Robert Toher, recorded over the course of a year as he lived in Los Angeles temporarily. Previously of the group ERAAS, Robert places a greater emphasis on electronics in this new project. Rhythm is at the forefront, with the tone informed by stripped down, narcotic impressions of krautrock, hypnotic percussion, and subtly layered atmospherics. Spectral vocals meld with delicate piano against hip hop beats and a dub sensibility, conjuring clouded lights, foggy glass in empty buildings, urban wraiths.To call it minimal would, on the surface, seem appropriate. Wuthering Drum does not need an abundance of flashes and frills to illustrate its point, nor does it need smoke and mirrors to mask a lack of vision. However, repeated listens yield layers of tonal variations, textural nuance, and tastefully placed overdubs. There is a slightly religious or spiritual element at Wuthering Drum's core; a sense of being in an existential crisis, while simultaneously being uplifted, in the face of change. This is the search for redemption in a far away place, away from comfort; it is adjustment to an inner dissonance, rather than the washing over of past fears and regrets with sterile holy waters.

As always - the U JAZZ ME vinyl is numbered to 100 copies and it was pressed on 180g black wax.

Music was composed and produced by Bartosz Weber (guitar, electronica) with creative aid of Michał Fetler (saxophones) & Jacek Prościński (drums).

This Molar record was created in a few stages. First it was substantial to find creative means which would spark the new material. The Polyend Tracker was perfect for that as it is both simple and surprisingly fresh. Only after that I applied my favourite environment and comfortably sat in my digital domain. The next stage was to find kindred spirits who share the same mental and musical sensibility. Michał Fetler and Jacek Prościński seemed to fit like a custom-made rubber glove. It was equally important that they are excellent and experienced musicians as well as good humans. Fetler brought his own sensitivity and ideas, we tried sampling his instruments live which you can hear in quite a few places on this record. We still apply this technique during performances. His contribution is best heard in Berry Teaching, or Stimulating Labourer. In both cases he starts the fun and I enter sampling and answering to his parts. Jacek Prościński fits the bill both in terms of his creative approach and contagious enthusiasm. His style also encouraged me to pick up the guitar and completely change a few parts which led to a more extreme ending in Brav0o (initially it was played on synths and calmly faded out into oblivion). What more is there to do than sit back (or stand up, run, float or fall, whichever you prefer listening to music) and enjoy this selection of audio extravaganza.

As a label, we are specialists in musical diversity. With our newest installment of the annual System 108 compilation we present you two parts of hand picked creative output by our friends, residents and dearest guests. Curated by the artist Ira Bespalova, the concept of both parts is simple and deep: the good, the calm, the kind is part 1 and all anti-heroes, filthy electro-armored jams is part 2. All together - another twist of the planet, another beat of our big heart, that became shelter and home home for a whole new tribe. It pumps, it creates, unites and warms up, kicks it real hard, no matter how tough it is. Part 1 is densely populated by our new kids on the block! Isktrit, TURBOSH, BORIS REDWALL, DJ Yesyes, Dominique Mara have been releasing singles, EP's and album during 2023 and became an integral part of the collective. Here you will also find good old friends Maksimovna, Lipelis, Kito Jempere. Very special Siberian inspired trippy workout by RLGN and Sasha Kustov, Luchshiy Drug. And a super special guest appearance starring Magnus Opus and mo?se?. The running order is curated as a narrative, as an album that takes you on a journey. But separately, it all works as singles, DJ tracks and tools. Welcome to Nine Years Of Love!

On The Arboretum, Analogue Attic co-founder Alex Albrecht leans further into the dancefloor, channelling the more hypnotic and driving energy that Butter Sessions is known for. Across the five tracks, listeners are treated to Albrecht's signature melody-driven deep house, bolstered by intricate rhythms, a deeper low end, and hypnotic loops designed for larger systems and later hours.

The tracks are playful yet serious, functional yet full of personality. There's the joy of long blends and the tiny details that bubble up in the mix: field recordings from time spent away, nostalgic archival material, and subtle harmonic shifts that keep the tension simmering.

It's a record built for dancers, but also for home listening. By embracing a tougher, more energetic sound, this release expands Albrecht's sonic world while staying true to the textural depth and sense of journey that run through all his work.credits

Voal — Vand and Shoal — reveal five more cuts on their home label Isotoop, taken from the pair’s time living together in Utrecht. Whereas the debut EP, ‘Saffron’, dropped the listener into psychedelic aesthetics and atypical rhythmic structures, the sequel ‘Jinx’ has a more crystal-cut vision of club music, made for no less exploratory dancefloors.

Possessing a natural progression almost as fluid as a contiguous live set, with imagination each track can form the basis of the next through the fingerprints of a barely-perceptible ghost leaving a piecemeal narrative impression, an exposure in negative that develops over repeated exposure to the five versatile tracks.

Relative to Saffron’s sidestepping repertoire, this latest EP goes for the jugular with insistent club dynamics from the get-go. Summoning steps on air, a self-contained package of breezy dancefloor initiation and escalation, all-in-one, and from the foothold of this thermal vortex Crosswind ups the drama with storm-hued dynamics and blustery club debris.

The knife of aesthetics is freshly sharpened for the flip: Jinx takes the record out of earthbound atmospheres and deep into sci-fi territory. A jigsawwing bassline seems to drill ever-deeper into an expanding landscape, as it does so uncovering small sonic treasures locked in the bedrock. A mirror to this scene, The Chain digresses with bubbling verve and psychedelic strut, a combo-finishing left hook that simultaneously holds playfulness alongside dour dramatics, a duality shared by vinyl-exclusive closing track Ouah, which blows out the lights with a smirk, and premium hallucinatory dub psychosis.

2025 REPRESS

A DJ, producer and significant figure in contemporary electronic music, Marcel Dettmann steps forward to contribute to Running Back’s ongoing Mastermix series. Whereas previous editions of Mastermix have taken an ear to the sound of lapsed, legendary clubs such as Wild Pitch and Front, Dettmann’s curation deftly captures the man himself in ongoing perpetual motion, raiding the vault for his own precision-tooled edits, long-employed on dancefloors to devastating effect. Alongside a continuous mix, this release arrives as a 3LP gatefold, and as a limited edition cassette.

Closely associated with Berlin’s techno landscape, Dettmann was born and raised in the former GDR, then later immersed in the bleary-eyed counter cultural landscape of post-unification Berlin. Initially oriented by post-punk, industrial and new-wave music, Dettmann has been DJing since 1993, always expanding and perfecting his repertoire. He later began working behind the counter at the city’s tastemaking rave boutique Hard Wax, and a decade after he first dropped a needle, became (and remains) resident at notable local nightspot Berghain/Panorama Bar, where his instincts have helped sculpt the signature sound of both main dancefloors.

Of course, you’re probably not asking, “Who is Marcel Dettmann?” More importantly, you might want to know; just what treats has he gifted us here? The trip begins with a simple pitch-shift skywards, transforming Identified Patient’s creeping ‘The Female Medical College of Pennsylvania’ into a peak-time freakout, before an alternate take on Toctronic’s ‘Bis uns das Licht vertreibt’ emerges from the vaults for the first time. Dating from 1995, and one of Dettmann’s all-time favourites, Cristian Vogel’s ‘Untitled’ clambers back into the box with respectable cuts, while John Bender’s ‘Victims of A Victimless Crime’ kicks off the flip sporting a new arrangement, transporting us back to the foundations of a confident, stripped-back sound.

A few subtle edits to Clark’s perilously funky ‘Dirty Pixie’ takes us to Dettmann’s remix of Junior Boys. Produced in 2010, it transposes the Canadian duo’s sophisticated pop with our curator in his minimal prime, and has since become an irresistible prize for high-minded diggers. The same can be said for Experimental Products’ explosive proto-electro anthem ‘Who Is Kip Jones?’, empowered from pricey Discogs purgatory with just the slightest of tweaks. It’s deservedly sandwiched between the guiding influences of Chicago and Detroit in the form of Mutant Beat Dance’s raw ‘The Human Factor’ and a shimmering new version of previous solo production ‘Water’, featuring close friend and Ostgut Ton ally, Ryan Elliot.

The second half of the Mastermix seamlessly connects the mechanical past and digital present of EBM and industrial in the dance, with Dettmann’s instincts as a guiding hand. Severed Heads’ iconic ‘We Have Come To Bless This House’ emerges with mere nips and tucks, while Nitzer Ebb’s ‘Shame’ is significantly reimagined as a highwire act of rhythm and tension, setting up a sensual second take on a 2017 remix of ‘Limbo’ from Swiss synth heroes, Yello.

Core musical memories are shaken and stirred with a context-shifting take on Frank Duval’s emotional classic ‘Ogon’, while Ian North’s ‘Sex Lust You’ and Ford Proco’s notable Coil collaboration ‘Expansion Naranja’ effectively throb with only minor adjustments, respectfully imagined as “shadow versions”. Meanwhile, a simple breakbeat lifts Albert Kuningas’s ‘Astraalprojektio’ in the direction of wide-eyed dancefloors, while a fresh take on K-Alexi Shelby’s ‘Season of The Real’ inexplicably emerges somehow even funkier than before.

The conclusion of the compilation leads back to Das Tier from the prolific experimentalist Conrad Schnitzler, whose swirling synths and hypnotic vocals are duly tightened by Dettmann, but only as he puts it, “in conversation with the original.” Concluding three discs and thirty years of commitment to the dancefloor, this Mastermix not only offers us the opportunity to eavesdrop on this endless exchange, but to gain some sought-after material for our own record collections.