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Between flesh and silicon. “Under My Skin” (2026) is the first album by IADI, released by Neo Life. A record like few
others, highly conceptual, cover art included. Its essence lies in the folds of the increasingly ambiguous relationship
between man and machine, where the former designs the latter and, perhaps without fully realizing it, is gradually
destined to adapt and be reprogrammed by it. Each track of “Under My Skin” is, in fact, a sort of interface, connector, or
any other imaginative point of contact between two creative phases, amid emotional impulses and binary calculations.
The sonic architecture oscillates between analog warmth and algorithmic coldness, constructing landscapes in which
pulsating synthesizers and mechanical rhythms seem to question each other. There's no linear narrative, but rather a
progressive immersion in a zone of near-friction, where the comfort of technology coexists with more than a faint
musical uneasiness, like a background noise that never ceases to remind you who's truly in charge. In “Under My Skin”,
the machine is neither an enemy nor a simple instrument: it's a real presence, intimate, even tactile, amplifying desires,
fears, and dreams of dawns beyond the digital realm. Intelligent dance music. Less noise, more sensations. Electronic,
but profoundly human.
The final result, then, is a music project that speaks to the present, yet sounds like an X-ray of the future, capturing that
fragile moment when humanity and technology stop observing each other from afar and begin to merge, track after
track. It's no coincidence that IADI's album opens with “Impulse”, an immediate expression of an electrical impulse, for
both humans and machines, which is also the language of the nervous system, as fast as it is vital—pure energy and
rhythm, a track as intense as it is irregular. And after this introduction, it's the turn of the equally erratic “Axon”, whose
title describes the neuron that transmits the signal over distance, telling the listener to sit back and relax for a new
journey through the notes toward the more melodic “Cortex”. The cerebral cortex, the ultimate seat of thought and
memory, becomes the source from which the musical flow of the first part of the work is drawn.
Then, suddenly, an automatic, or instinctive, response to the constant succession of impulses: “Reflex”, or zerotemperature techno, with a fragmented pace, featuring vocal samples, breaks, and restarts. In the producer's
imagination, the subsequent, and conversely placid, “Neuron” represents the emotional core of the second part of the
work, providing a kind of respite from the seething vibrations. While the neuron is the basic unit of the nervous system,
the synapse is the functional connection point between one neuron and another effector cell, essential for the
transmission of nerve impulses and communication in the nervous system, enabling functions such as learning and
movement. Likewise, a track like “Synapse” once again illuminates the path traced by IADI. The more experimental and
streamlined “Static” instead suggests true ordered chaos. “Dreamstate” is the conclusion suspended in the void, relating
to that dreamlike state between waking and sleeping, where consciousness fades toward infinity and visions begin. Pure
fading into the subconscious. Eternal return to where it all began. Dancing is a form of consciousness. Every beat is a
question. IADI, however, holds all the answers you need.

Leinenbezogene, foliengeprägte Tip-on-Gatefold-Hülle mit 24-seitigem Comicbuch im LP-Format.

The 3rd collaborative album between Les Claypool (Primus) & Sean Lennon (the previous sold over 150,000 combined) is an elaborate concept record reflecting on morality, the warnings of A.I., and the slippery slope of optimization without empathy. Told across 14 songs - which ooze with classic psychedelic / progressive rock stylings - and the accompanying comic book by Rich Ragsdale, The Great Parrot-Ox and The Golden Egg of Empathy is a peak for both The Claypool-Lennon Delirium and rock music at large.

Caterina Barbieri & Bendik Giske's At Source resounds music as wellspring, that which is essential and unknowable, and yet utterly primary. It finds two acclaimed composer-musicians building a world together in self-contained collaboration between analogue synthesis and an extended approach to the saxophone that conjures its own universe of sound. It is at once intimate and cosmic, drawing on the challenges and possibilities of their artistic exchange, tearing down technique to access all the expansive possibilities of their sonic meeting point.



At Source is a document of the world of sound to be conjured when two artists strive for something together, discovering the expansions and limitations of performance by bodies and machines. It is not an exercise in assimilation, but in productive exchange and creative confrontation. It does not draw on outside energies or influences, but grapples with what there is to find in their respective playing. "It also reflects how natural the collaboration was," says Barbieri, "a meeting at the source which was spontaneous, graceful and natural".



Barbieri and Giske first met and were enthralled by one another's performances at Kunsthaus Glarus in 2019, a meeting that spurred conversations on the power of transitions as a compositional force. Giske later contributed a rework of Fantas for Fantas Variations (Editions Mego, 2021), an ambitious undertaking to rescore Barbieri’s work for his saxophone and voice, a challenge Giske had started undertaking two years prior as an ongoing practice of transcription. “The request came as a proof of aligned ideas”, says Giske.



Their new collaborative project then started during an artistic residency in Milan’s ICA in 2021, by invitation of swiss artist and curator Jan Vorisek, as the world was emerging from lockdown. This meeting, and the preceding closure of sites for cultural exchange, made their work together 'feel like springtime' says Barbieri. Giske, who was on the brink of releasing his sophomore album, Cracks, then joined Barbieri's light-years tour, which functioned as an inaugural incarnation of her newborn label and platform through a series of multi-artist curated shows with appearances of Lyra Pramuk, Nkisi, MFO, among other artists.



Through the tour, they continued to develop material live, and this release, laid down in the studio, is true to that ever-evolving process of creation, where live feedback stays essential to the vitality of this collaborative effort. The tracks are each named with two evocative words that contain the two poles of their sound. Theirs is both abstract and cosmic, in the synth as machine undermined by Barbieri's naturalistic playing, and in Giske's continuous exploration of the symbiosis between his instrument, voice, and body. These binaries, of body and machine, posed various challenges, notably in how the stepped patterns Barbieri uses were near-impossible to translate for Giske's body to perform, and other times where mathematical resolutions were needed to sync their playing. Explains Giske: "It forced me to go to the core of what I am and what I have to offer”. Barbieri says that it "explores the liminality between the machine and the human, and the vulnerability in this process".



At Source is testament to two divergent practices finding a whole cosmos in which to convene; music is crystalised and made utterly enveloping through the focused and critical work of two musicians working at their peak. The versions here are, temptingly, "just one of many versions" of this abundant source material Giske explains. Like the best collaborations, At Source is more than the sum of its parts – bringing more to the feast than the simple combination of two musicians, promising versions upon versions of the exquisite material captured here.

Warehouse Find!

Introducing Red D, the Belgian DJ and producer, one half of FCL (alongside San Soda), long standing club promoter (since 1992), owner of We Play House and general all round good guy. With releases on Ferrispark and Delusions Of Grandeur (with MCDE), remixes on Eskimo, regular sets at the likes of Panorama Bar and an RA Mix under his belt you could say things are falling into place nicely. On top of all this his FCL project continues to go from strength to strength with a new
EP dropping soon on Kai 'KZR' Alce's highly regarded NDATL label. When he sent over two originals for Freerange it was love at first listen as the simple, warm beats and emotive chord stabs of title track Chez oozed from the speakers. This sounded to me like house music in it's purest form, from the days when the focus was on a feeling rather than complex sounds or technological
trickery. And the proof is in the pudding with this one as you can feel the dance floor go into some kind of collective bubble of love whenever you play it. The second original follows drawing you into a false sense of security with familiar 707 beats and gentle pads before taking a left turn. Appropriately titled Into Darkness the blissful vibes of the intro begin to fall away as the
track reaches a breakdown and we're treated to the rudest of Chi-Town basslines taking us down a somewhat less wholesome path. Flipping over we're treated to two Jacob Korn remixes, one of each of the originals and if the A side is the good cop, we can trust the Uncanny Valley regular to deliver some pure badness on the flip. His Remix of Chez is clearly inspired by his studio hardware as you can hear the improvised and 'live'
sounding arrangement, the machines taking on a life of their own as things twist and turn in a spontaneous and unpredictable way. A rattling white noise pulse drives the rhythm whilst bubbling synths add some lightness to the pummeling
kick. Into Darkness gets the Korn treatment next and here he puts it right through the sonic mangler, tape saturation distorting the mix to within an inch of it's life. Jacob puts the focus on the bassline of the original, keeping things simple at
first before winding in layers of Juno chords and the bleepiest of synth lines resulting in the finest of raw, bassment house jams.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

UK-based DJ and producer Wallace debuts on Phantasy Sound with an irresistible double A-side single, ‘Cravings (ft. Love Letters) / Concourse.’ Bubbling with sensuality and euphoria, both tracks reinforce Wallace’s burgeoning reputation as one of electronic music’s most impressive new voices, a crowning moment on Erol Alkan’s long-running label following a stellar run of singles for imprints including Cooking With Palms Trax, Rhythm Section, and Moxie's much-loved On Loop.

Led by a longing, inquisitive performance from vocalist and underground house music luminary, Love Letters, ‘Cravings’ builds from a simple throbbing bass line to an eruption of lyrical and musical joy. Exploring onset desire – risk, uncertainty, and ultimately, reward – Wallace’s deep and celebratory arrangement interweaves with Love Letters’ queer perspective to deliver universal satisfaction.

While ‘Cravings’ looks inward to find release, ‘Concourse’ goes for the jugular with a darker, more epic sensibility than Wallace has previously indulged. His flawless production touch seamlessly gifts magic to a widescreen techno epic that might not sound out of place on the terrace at Circoloco or else a field near early-nineties Frankfurt, repeatedly working his acid-oriented machines into a lather and conjuring cosmic drama from eerie, choral voices beneath a powerful groove.

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.

The Wire: his most satisfying collection to date Resident Advisor: return to minimalist roots on a noise rock-influenced new live record Support from: Barnt, Ben UFO, Vladimir Ivkovic, Boris, OPTIMO 180 gr. colored vinyl pressing incl. art poster and sleeve - limited edition of 50 copies available via distribution Philipp Gorbachev is back at it with a new conceptual album. KGC Radio is all about returning to music-making roots - choices are raw, minimalist and different from the sonic industry environment. The flow is kept simple but deadly, using only the bare essentials to blow up the rave and festival scenes: analog synths, drum machines, a mic, and some sick percussion. The whole album was recorded in one take, like some kinda secret radio wave you stumble on in the middle of the night. Catch it, and you're diving headfirst into a maze of vibes and meanings you ain't seen coming. On the visual side, KGC Radio is a collab with Zhanna Maliti, this dope Moscow-based artist and photographer. Her one-of-a-kind style and imagery are a perfect match for the music, bringing the whole vibe to life. Sounds Like: Underground Resistance, Daniel Maloso, NIN, Broken English Club Mastering by: Beau Thomas

Celebrated DJ, producer, and sonic explorer Auntie Flo (aka Brian d’Souza) — described by The Guardian as “one of global club culture’s most vital voices” — returns this autumn with ‘Birds of Paradise’: a rhythmically rich, emotionally resonant, and ecologically grounded new album, out 23 October via his A State of Flo imprint. The album will be launched with a special live show at London’s Jazz Caféon the same day.

‘Birds of Paradise’ draws on d’Souza’s global club experience while deepening his connection with the natural world. Built around classic Roland drum machines and iconic vintage synths, the record is a joyful, body-driven celebration of rhythm and movement, but one grounded in ecology and place. The album’s spiritual centre lies in Saligao, Goa, near d’Souza’s maternal homeland where his Auntie Florie (where the name is derived from) is buried. Where he found his ‘paradise’ nearby, staying in a converted fisherman’s hut and recorded dawn choruses from a riverside studio overlooking mangrove-lined waters. Environmental textures from Japan also make their way into the music, creating a sonic map rooted in lived experience.

“Birds of Paradise is about finding beauty and rhythm in a chaotic world. It’s about listening, to nature, to our bodies, to what’s real. It’s a reminder that dance music can be both joyful and grounded.” The album blends Afro-Latin polyrhythms with Western 4/4 patterns, fusing instinctive, dancefloor energy with field recordings that anchor the music in the earth. Described by d’Souza as “tropical with a few deeper edges, a balance of light and dark.”

The new record follows the acclaimed ‘In My Dreams, I’m A Bird and I’m Free’, which earned 4 stars and Global Album of the Month from The Guardian, featured in Disco Pogo’s Albums of the Year, and received support from Luke Una, Resident Advisor, Juno, Bandcamp, Mixmag, DJ Mag, Electronic Sound, The Skinny, Beatport, Ban Ban Ton Ton, and more. The album’s launch show at Omeara London sold out. Other recent projects include the ‘Outernational Dance’ EP on cult label Multi Culti, event series ‘Plants Can Dance (and Mushroom’s Sing)’ which explore plant and fungi bioelectricity as a means of live composition, and ‘Black Beacon’, a haunting cassette release and soundwalk series recorded on the abandoned military island of Orford Ness. There, d’Souza explored the eerie intersection of nature, decay, and deep time, gaining special access to restricted buildings to capture long-form soundscape compositions.

Alongside his production work, d’Souza has emerged as a leading voice at the intersection of sound and science. He curated music for Imperial College’s groundbreaking psychedelic therapy trials, developing six-phase playlists to guide participants through psilocybin-assisted sessions treating conditions such as fibromyalgia and gambling addiction. His five-hour ambient set at Watching Trees Festival, selected as Resident Advisor’s Mix of the Day, continued this exploration into the therapeutic potential of sound in altered states. He also spent six months collaborating with BBC producer Tom Raine on a documentary for BBC World Service, centred on a two-week journey through Kenya and Goa. There, he performed live, led plant music workshops, and joined a deep listening retreat rooted in field recording. “I realised my studio isn’t just four soundproofed walls filled with instruments — it’s the journey itself. It’s the people I meet, the natural world I listen to, and the connections I feel.”

This same commitment to deep listening fuels his live concept Plants Can Dance, a project that combines the biosonification of plants and fungi with modular synthesis. The next event, on 14 September at Hideout Hackney Wick, will feature performances by Stella Z and Lapalace, with d’Souza and resident Lamine playing live alongside responsive plants in collaboration with Repot Hackney Wick and the label Music To Watch Seeds Grow By. “I’ve spent years exploring how electronic music can connect us, not just to each other, but to the natural world. Whether it’s translating mushroom data into melody or capturing birdsong at dawn, it’s about finding resonance across bodies, ecosystems, and machines.”

Rooted in his Goan and Kenyan heritage and shaped by years of travel and collaboration, d’Souza’s creative mission is simple: to reconnect the electronic world with the natural one. Through A State of Flo, he continues to blur the boundaries between club culture, sound art, and ecological awareness.

The year is 1989 and it's the peak of the Belgium New Beat craze. Not limited to records and clubs, the New Beat lifestyle was marketed to death with all sorts of fashion items, a plethora of accessories, and at least one erotic movie.

Fast forward a few decades. In the middle of nowhere, Switzerland, tucked inside a long-forgotten video store that closed its doors in 1999 and sat untouched for 20 years, we stumbled upon a strange treasure amongst tons of VHS hidden in the adult section. A mysterious VHS labeled "Erotiques New Beat."

What we found was pure 1989 Belgian erotica-low budget, fog-drenched, and neon-soaked. Minimalist sets. Girls in PVC. Flashing lights. Mirrors. Fog machines. Loud colors. It was erotic, sure-but also oddly sweet, almost innocent in its surreal, lo-fi dreaminess.

And then came the soundtrack.

That's what really floored us. A collection of New Beat gems, raw, simple, irresistible. Somehow, it captured the full spectrum of the genre: 100-110 bpm grooves with shades of EBM, sleazy coldwave rhythms, sensual synths, proto-Goa pulses, monk choirs, oriental melodies, and a healthy dose of movie samples. It felt alive. Timeless. Utterly perfect.

We had to know more. We dug, tracked down the source, and in 2020, reissued the soundtrack on vinyl. It sold out fast. Now, five years later, we thought about pressing one final batch. A special edition on picture disc, featuring the original smileys from the VHS.

'Sounds From The Northern Hemisphere' is a collection of live-recorded takes, registered between 2021 and 2023. The Icelandic extraterrestrial scenery was the main inspiration for this work. Similarly to the nature of each landscape, every composition was crafted with a genuine and spontaneous approach, entirely avoiding digital instruments.

A methodical sound research was enacted, exploring the analog behaviours of classic and modern machines. The result is a minimalistic and intense merge of sounds: simple, but meaningful.

Group is a project with its own sound and a gradually expanding style, and Seedman perfectly reflects these attributes. With 160925_1145, the first cut on side A, the ritualism he has previously exhibited on other albums such as Esoteric Free Afrika, or more recently with Broken Faces, is somewhat apparent, due to the slow cadence, steady rhythm and tribal arguments. 160205_1066 is created from another perspective, however, it is not what it seems because from the first bars there is a syncopated and constant rhythmic pattern that places you in an industrial scenario, and gradually a simple two-tone melody appears that completely changes its initial musical context. 170218_1475 moves between an industrial and dark ambient concept, as it mixes gloomy atmospheres with deep breaks.

The sonic properties of 160131_0683, the cut that opens the B-side, connect with an unexplored environment, with a new, recently discovered and inhospitable scenario, since among other things we can appreciate sounds of machines, radio signals, filtered and choppy voices, combined with disturbing acoustic phenomena. 170213_1455 is a track that describes quite concisely the creative sense of Group, and for this we must take into account that it could be catalogued as a techno production, with groove and aimed at the dancefloor, however, he manages to minimise all these factors by giving it a volatile and atmospheric aspect. 170105_1398 closes the B-side of the vinyl, returning once again to the tribalism and ritualism that characterises many of Group’s productions, given that on this occasion his rhythm is not diluted, it has much more presence and manages to generate a hypnotic state.

In addition to these six tracks that make up the entire vinyl tracklist, Seedman also presents a couple of bonus tracks in digital format. And the first of them, The beast11, already arouses curiosity because its title is not due to a sequence of numbers, as is usual in this project. Musically, it once again shows Group’s ability to adapt any environment to a sonic degradation very much in keeping with his style. 150407_0166, the last track on the album, is an ode to chaos, a hodgepodge of frequencies devoid of rhythm that appropriately serves as an outro.

'Tema di Susie' is one of the main themes from the soundtrack composed by Alessandro Alessandroni for the 1976 Italian noir Sangue di sbirro, known in English as Blood and Bullets, as well as Knell, Bloody Avenger (the Susie in the original title refers to the female love interest of the film's hero, who is on a mission to seek revenge for the gangland murder of his policeman father).

At once sweet and sentimental, haunting and melancholic, 'Tema di Susie' stands out from the other tracks in the film, which are more action oriented. Like the rest of the score, however, it exemplifies the way in which, during the '70s, Italian film composers created their own version of the sound of American blaxploitation cinema, with its groovy blend of funk, jazz, and soul. It is no coincidence that the film's director, B-movie specialist Alfonso Brescia, specifically requested music in the style of Shaft, the iconic film that defined that sound in 1971.

Though seemingly simple, 'Tema di Susie' is a perfect example of Alessandroni's style – in particular his unique ability to effortlessly blend groove and melody, funk and feeling, into one musical piece. So, we invited different artists with different backgrounds, influences and approaches to bring their individual take on this elegant and now timeless tune.

Neapolitan duo Fratelli Malibu have taken Alessandroni's melodic theme and woven it into a mesmerizing tapestry of rhythmic beats, world percussion and ethereal atmospheres. Drawing inspiration from funk/Afrobeat, synth-pop and Italo-disco, they've conjured a psychedelic-tinged, afro-cosmic groove that's bound to transport you to another dimension.

As the music unfolds, you'll feel like you've stepped into a vibrant, fantasy world. The breaks, outro, and intro are woven with a psychedelic thread that leaves you yearning to return once the final note fades away. And that's not all – they've injected an irresistible pop sensibility into the track with the use of drum machines and synths. The result? A rework that not only amplifies the dreaminess of the original but also seamlessly marries the past with the future.

We love the track so much that we decided to double the fun with a vocal retouch version, courtesy of the Italian funk/soul collective Banda Maje. Their vocalists, Chiara Della Monica and Cristina Cafiero, elegantly infuse cinematic and Balearic vibes into the mix, paying a wonderful homage to Fratelli Malibu's exquisite arrangement.

A moment in time. A casual afterhours jam with friends. Out of which something special comes together.

The story behind Hudd Traxx label head Eddie Leader’s new single is one that begins with a rescue mission. Driving from his base in Manchester to London, to collect a stranded Chez Damier, due to a cancelled flight, and deliver him to his gig in Manchester that same night. Old friends, on a mission and putting the world to rights on their way.

Post gig, deep in merriment, and having given way to the lure of the machines, both Eddie, Chez & Tomson spent time jamming in the studio, recording vocals from which came the classic track 'I Am With You'. Until very recently the remaining stems and ideas were locked, but never forgotten, in the Hudd Traxx archives. Late last year Leader dusted them off and set to work on crafting a new single…. Pressure.

Pressure was born from a distinct lack of. A factor that radiates from the speakers as Leader crafts an unhurried and simple groove, built upon a warm bassline and glistening Ivory chords, all garnished by Chez, featuring under his Kids In The Streets alias, with his soulful vocal delivery.

Hudd Traxx present Eddie Leader ft. Kids In The Streets ’Pressure’, complete with Dub, Instrumental and Dubstrumental mixes.

Placid aka Paul Wise is the operator in chief at ‘We’re Going Deep’ – an online community and record label born out of a lifelong love affair with the many shades of electronic rhythm, and an obsession for collecting records since 1988. With a mission to share and release new music via his We’re Going Deep and We’re Going Back imprints, you’ll find only the best in underground Acid, Electro, IDM, Techno and House for the dance floor and your listening pleasure.

Up next in the label series, We’re Going Deep is excited to welcome 4 tracks of fresh material from pivotal electronic music maker Gerard Hanson, under his much prized E.R.P. alias. Renown for keeping his profile below the radar and letting the machines do all the talking for him. Hanson’s work as a producer has been much coveted since his debut back in the mid 90s as Convextion. Hailing from Dallas, Texas, he has become something of a hero in the underground Electro community. His work as E.R.P. has left a huge impression on labels such as Frustrated Funk, Bleep43 and Semantica over the years. Renown for his distinctive shimmering machine funk aesthetic, he ably summons the outer reaches of deep space listening thanks to his innate mastery of brooding, sci-fi soundscapes that few can equal.

Following releases for Apnea and Synchrophone, Hanson lifts off with a heartfelt tribute to our recently departed friend James Baker on ‘One4ReKab’. Ascending with the pulse of a steady kick drum, precision snares take hold as whispered vocals seep in and out of consciousness. Underpinned by trademark angular bass tones, soaring strings inject a deep sense of foreboding as all the parts fuse with a fierce glow. Stepping things a notch back as the sonic trajectory levels out, ‘Onward’ takes a more contemplative stance in a fusion of hypnotic drum programming that leads the fray whilst subtle arpeggios flow, all whilst wistful melodies wind you in.

Over on the flipside, Hanson revisits his 2008 composition “Multipole Vector” to launch yet another interstellar cruise by mission in the shape of “Multipole Vector II”. Leading with the simplest of bass progressions and metronomic beat programming, twinkling synth elements reach across the void as chords sweep to and fro to powerful effect. Ending out on the uplifting yet almost IDM inflected tones of “Self Unemployed”, this low tempo air rounds the EP off on an equally captivating note filled with playful charm, that makes this collection of music all the more pleasing.

Waiting is the essence of travel. Patience is its own reward.

Two people. A Telecaster guitar with a few effect pedals. A drum machine. An audio interface is connected to a laptop. The ingredients are simple yet effective.

But any suggestion of four-track cassette machines and vintage bedsit productions is quickly dispelled by digital dubbiness and refined arrangements. A tail of reversed echos. The crystalline flourish of octave-pitched delays. Riddled hi-hats tickle and taunt. A bass drum asserts its space.

Winkler's guitar patterns have a fragmented, almost haphazard connotation. Searching in a shimmer of reverb. Until the beat, the framework, sets in to reveal structure. Intentionality. Reihse's programmed rhythms go just to the point of a groove, holding the moment of tension, knowingly delaying the gratification. Beats that have scratchy patina anda subtly playful edge; their crispness stands in contrast to the contemplative drift of the guitar. Is it a trance? Or a dance? Yes.

There are some apparent references here: a good portion of Les Disques du Crépuscule, some kraut-esque electronica, even a smidgen of Morricone / Spaghetti Western, blending into a kind of Musique Noir – yet these serve as a set of orientational coordinates, rather than quotations.

This is so far the most assured release by Periode, perhaps eschewing some of the naiveté that was wilfully cultivated in earlier output – there is no cheeky cover version this time. And no singing either. The nine pieces have the quality of a series, a variation on a mood, or a subset of moods. What emerges is an inviting swagger in the face of bleakness. There is a profound melancholy, but it is not the darker kind, and does not exclude humour.

First impressions may suggest that this is purely nocturnal music. Yet it equally evokes the harsh sunlight and baking summer heat. Or a rainy day. And transportation: the music suggests the motion of travel, even if that travel only happens within the mind. And waiting. Waiting while doing nothing much. Because that's all you can do. (Alexander Paulick)

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.

The song sets the tone of this album. A simple structure, over which a web of rhythm is woven using an instrumentation of old drum machines in dialogue with live drums and percussion. Lots of sax, tenor and baritone! A pumping bass. A frisky pizzicato violin. And some classic keyboards: the Fender Rhodes, the Hohner Clavinette D6, the L-100 Hammond organ. And lots of analogue synthesisers: a rippling Juno-106 marks the path to follow, which is crossed with phrases from other museum pieces: Crumar's Stratus, Farfisa's Synthorchestra, Sequential's Prophet-10. Or still the Casio Club M-100, which is basically a toy, but has been subtly colouring SKC's songs for years!

SKC has often dived deep into the repertoire of artists he holds in high esteem, looking for pearls, forgotten or not, to work on. Likewise on this album with versions of songs by Prince, Dez Mona, Alain Bashung…

‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ is the latest collection selected by Mikey Young (Total Control, EddyCurrent Suppression Ring) and Keith Abrahamsson (Founder and Head of A&R at AnthologyRecordings), the mangled minds behind the beloved ‘Follow the Sun’, ‘Sad About the Times’,and ‘…Still Sad’ compilations. The twenty tracks of ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ make a conscious(and unconscious) detour from its predecessors, sourced entirely from private press releases,spanning new decades and production modes within homespun folk, soft rock and otherwise70s and 80s FM radio adjacent music.  The magic of ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ is the untold story of the artists behind these songs; thosewho missed the big time, but whose song craft and unrequited care hit the right notes, bothhigh and low.
Where ‘Follow the Sun’ and ‘Sad About the Times’ introduced us to the fame chasing, ambitioncrashing crooners who missed their shot in the mainstream, ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ delvesdeeper into the isolated wilds - a private world where production quirks, late-night tape hiss andone-man studio dreams were not necessarily a choice but the hand that was dealt.
With the parameters set to ‘private press only’, Young and Abrahamsson follow a circuitous trailof invention and emotion, documenting a spirit that’s more homespun, sometimes lonelier andoften a little weirder. The guitars still strum, but the keyboards’ hum is more prevalent andprecious; wistful harmonies brush up against lo-fi drum machines; a bittersweet fog lingeringover even the brightest melodies.
As with their previous collaborations, Young and Abrahamsson weren’t interested inconstructing a museum or drafting a historical survey. ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ is a sentimentalmixtape, assembled late at night when the mind wanders and old memories blur with imaginedfutures, those within reach and those far too mysterious to ever encounter. Songs wereunearthed in personal collections, deep YouTube burrows, dilapidated web archives and thedim corners of Discogs, with many selections tied not only to intuition but to personalconnection.  Some tracks arrived via friends - Kelley Stoltz, a frequent guide for Young, tipped him off toboth Peter Kraemer’s lost gem ‘Let the Light Slip’ and Awakening’s revelatory closer - addingan unseen but deeply felt thread of camaraderie to the compilation.
The journey takes in a wide, strange sweep: The Watson Brothers Band’s ‘Just Whistle’ opensthe collection with a sigh and a shrug, a song that feels like it’s been waiting for decades to beheard again. Jim Huxley’s ‘Tessa on a Magazine’, rediscovered after a long and winding searchby Young, shimmers with a distinctly Australian melancholia. The heartbreak of Rick Penta’s‘My Story Changes’ and Twice As Nice’s delicate ‘Thoughts of You’ float easily alongside themore buoyant, radio-dream sheen of Barracuda’s ‘Baby I Love You’ and MAK’s sunshinedappled ‘That’s Life’.
Widening the aperture to the late 1970s and early 1980s allows for a deeper exploration intoevolving production techniques and musical technologies. The Squad’s ‘D.L.M.H.I.M.A.’ andChristoph Spendel Group’s ‘Forever’ crackle with the kind of bedroom synth warmth that couldonly come from the analogue age, while the soulful, yearning undercurrent of Awakening’s‘Gotta Do Somethin / Might As Well Cultivate’ caps the collection with a call for action - ormaybe just acceptance - in an accidental Brian Eno ‘Here Come the Warm Jets’ parroting.
While ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ moves away from the ‘sad man with guitar’ archetype that hoveredover its predecessors, it remains tethered to a familiar emotional gravity - a balance of longingand lightness that defines this corner of the musical universe. Each track shuffles gentlybetween resignation and hope, sadness and serenity, as if the artists themselves were chasinga dream just beyond reach, recording not for fame but for the simple act of getting it, thatprimal, creative itch, out into the world.
Available on CD and 2LP, featuring the third eye-opening artwork of Dang Wayne Olsen. Thedouble LP set arrives in an outrageous double-wide spine jacket with printed inners and adream journal entry by Pacific Northwest artifactual authority Josh Lewellen.

"Chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams..."

December 25th, 2023 - an Instagram post. Stimulator Jones shared half a dozen FIRE tracks from his beat tape archive. We were immediately drawn to the rough hewn boom bap.

"I'd release that", Rob commented.

Hours of material was shared and the result is this: Cool Green Trees (1999-2005). A collection of beats and loops Stimulator Jones created between the ages of 14-20 at home in his basement, bedroom and computer room in Roanoke, Virginia.

You will not believe the profound soulful genius contained within these naive schoolboy melodies.

December 25th, 1998 - 25 years ago to the day and his much-coveted Yamaha SU10 sampler was finally bestowed upon young Stimmy AKA Sam Lunsford: "I immediately hooked up a CD Walkman to the input jack and looped the beginning two bars of Grover Washington Jr.'s "Mercy Mercy Me". I don't know what exactly was so thrilling about hearing two measures of music repeating over and over but it was so infectious and hypnotizing and enthralling to me. I'll never forget that ecstatic rush of making my first loop - an uncontrollable, gleeful smile plastered all over my face." When you hear the pocket breakbeat symphonies featured here on Cool Green Trees, you'll feel the same sense of frisson.

In the wake of his Stones Throw breakthrough - Exotic Worlds & Master Treasures - Stimulator Jones was pegged by many as a 90s throwback artist. However, he literally IS a 90s artist. He's been recording music most of his life and he's now 40. He created the bulk of Cool Green Trees as a teenager. Everything before 2004 was recorded when Sam was still in school. He was in 8th grade when he made the 1999 tracks - he didn't even have his learner's permit. This album is a snapshot of a young man in a simpler time. Things were still mysterious back then and he was flying blind, relying on his ears and having to figure things out for himself: "I had no road map for becoming a beatmaker. I have been collecting music since I was a kid, I am a lifelong digger and seeker of cool and interesting sounds. I was there in the golden age of Hip Hop, and while I may have been a suburban white kid in Roanoke, Virginia, I was tuned in and I bought so many classic albums when they came out. I was attracted to Hip Hop because of the musical and poetic quality. I was hypnotized by the rhythms, partially because I was a drummer. I didn't brag about collecting my breakbeat records or making beats - it was something I did in isolation. It wasn't something I generally wanted to bring attention to and it didn't really score me any cool points. I certainly wasn't flexing on social media about it."

Hell, he can do that now!

Opener "Pharoah Jones" was inspired by Yesterday's New Quintet and Madlib's ability to capture that classic 70s sound whilst playing all the instruments. Sam created this one stoned afternoon by laying down a 2 bar loop and a shaker loop on his Yamaha SU700 sampler. He hung a microphone from the ceiling and played his Yamaha Stage Custom drum kit over the top before adding ender Rhodes and playing his dad's Selmer tenor sax through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. Yes! Up next, "Ghost Gospel" utilises a dope loop from a gospel record and adds some soul-funk drums overtop, whilst working that filter knob. Says Sam: "The loop reminded me of something Ghostface would rap over. The sample was in 3/4 waltz time but I flipped it for a 4/4 groove, a technique I picked up from RZA. "Ill Feeling" uses sped-up pieces from a dusty old funk record and putting them over a classic NOLA drum loop; gain chopping up a slow, bluesy 3/4 time signature and bending it to a 4/4 groove. Classy shit. "Capital Punishment" features drums tapped in live, inspired by MF Doom's Special Herbs series. "Do Not Adjust" consists loops found on a compilation of 70s French music at Happy's Flea Market, a classic Roanoke digging spot.

The sublime, evocative title track, "Cool Green Trees" was created when Sam was still living at home. He dumped samples off his SU10 into the family desktop and arranged them in a demo version of Pro Tools: "This track was sort of my ode to the DJ Shadow style of sample based production. Super spacey, slow, and moody. The heavily filtered drums were inspired by Alec Empire's 'Low on Ice' album. I later added some scratches and sounds from a Spider Man storybook record." "Chill Scratch" snags the final bit of a bossanova record and pairs it with a drum loop before adding experimental scratching run through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. "Poisonous Fumes" was made using a sampler, mixer and a turntable; a kind of mixtape beat collage with added scratches and sounds from various records. Using dialogue from superhero records was a nod to Madlib. "Welcome Aboard The Starship" is dark, downtempo trip-hop with a spooky bent. Sam paired a slow, hard drum loop with a guitar sample grabbed off a psychedelic rock record. To finish, he added various backwards sounds and weird atmospheric effects and a little scratching. Swoon.

Side B opens with "Keep On Runnin", made on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler. Having always loved the sound of the Lo-Fi filter on those machines, reminiscent of the Emu SP1200, Sam always imagined Del or another of the Hieroglyphics crew rapping over this beat. You can certainly hear why. "Sounds Impossible" sees Sam experimenting with layering multiple kick samples at different volumes to create patterns similar to those heard by Showbiz and Lord Finesse during their God-level 1995 period. "Painted Faces" was made by chopping up a REDACTED record which he had gotten from Happy's Flea Market and paired it with a REDACTED drum loop. By the time Sam recorded "The Knew Style", he had acquired a shitty old 1960s portable turntable off eBay. It didn't function properly when he bought it but his brother opened it up, cleaned it out and got it working: "I remember he told me that there was a bunch of sand inside of it when he opened it up, as if its previous owner had taken it to the beach. I would take that turntable on my Happy's Flea Market digs so I could preview records...that's how I found this loop."

"Chicken Wing Blues Sauce" loops up a classic blues joint and pairs it with some REDACTED drums. A bit of filtering and arranging et voilà! "Kool Breeze", from 1999, is one of Sam's oldest surviving beats, as is "Sexx Bullets". The Roots sampled the same record, leaving Sam frustrated yet vindicated. "Soul Child" was an early SU10 creation, looping a dusty old Soul Children 45 and pairing it with 70s rock drum loops to great effect. "Take Off Runnin" was another loop found digging with a portable turntable. Paired with some boom bap drums it makes for a hypnotic head-nod groove. "Centurian" was intended to be a little beat interlude a la Pete Rock. The sample is from a sun-dappled soft-psych record and it's paired with a Robin Trower drum loop that just happens to fit perfectly. Sometimes you slap things together kind of haphazardly and magic happens. "Bozack" was the first beat Sam made using Pro Tools, his first foray into using chopped sounds instead of loops, an exciting new world. "Church" is beat interlude using a Phil Upchurch loop with the "Long Red" drums - a favourite break of Dilla et al. Sam was really on a tear in late 2004, probably because he was unemployed and phoneless and able to just make beats all day. He made "Splash One" on a borrowed Yamaha SU700 and again was experimenting with tapping the drums in live with his fingers, instead of using a loop or sequenced pattern. Channeling 9th Wonder, Sam used a water splash sound effect from a Batman record as a percussive element, hence the title (also a 13th Floor Elevators reference). The main loop is a backwards portion of one of his favourite Roy Ayers songs.

"Hank" is another fun little beat interlude thing, created on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler with the fantastic Lo-Fi effect that resembled the Emu SP1200 at a fraction of the price. "73 goatee", from 99, is another of his oldest surviving beats, created in his bedroom with his Yamaha SU10 and his brother's Vestax MR-300 4-track recorder: "This one will always feel special. I can remember having a feeling all the way back then on the night that I created it that this was a solid beat with a catchy loop. There was something in the Fender Rhodes melody that resonated with me emotionally, and I had never heard a producer sample that portion before. I felt like I had found my own unique sound, my own unique loop. It came from an Ahmad Jamal '73. I actually even recorded myself rapping and scratching over this beat way back then, I still have that version in all its imperfect sloppy glory."

Sam explains just how much these tracks mean to him: "They all have immense historical and sentimental value and I'm proud of them. These beats come from an innocent, simple time when I was just figuring out how to craft these sounds. They're something very personal to me. They are the initial part of a journey that I really was taking *alone*. There was no YouTube. I couldn't Google shit. I didn't even know any other beatmakers, producers or DJs in my town that could teach me anything. It was always just me, alone, in a room with some equipment - chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams. What I was doing wasn't cool. Most of my peers thought I was a weirdo and couldn't care less. Creating these sounds was an anti-social endeavour. In a sense, I felt like it was me against the world, and all I had to instruct and assist me were the recordings produced by my heroes - RZA, DJ Premier, Erick Sermon, Beatminerz, Showbiz, Diamond D, Beatnuts, Prince Paul, The Bomb Squad, Pete Rock, Q-Tip, E-Swift, Mista Lawnge, DJ Shadow, Cut Chemist, Peanut Butter Wolf, El-P and so many more...I dedicate this collection to them, and to my older brother Joe who has always been a musical and technical guiding light for me.

This was a time before every kid was a self-described producer and beatmaker, before everyone had a DAW, before Kanye and "chipmunk soul", before Red Bull beat battles, before there was any social media beyond chat rooms and AOL Instant Messenger, before Soundcloud, before SP-404 mania, before lo-fi beats to study to, before Splice, before targeted ads for MIDI chord packs, etc. In 99 when I told people that I had a sampler and made beats I was mostly met with bewildered confusion and indifference. Kids and adults alike would wonder why I got this weird machine for Christmas instead of something worthwhile like a Playstation or a mountain bike or even a guitar for that matter because at least that could be used to make "real music". Back then, sampling was still not widely respected as an art form - it was seen as lazy, talentless and unoriginal at best and outright criminal theft at worst. I had gotten respect for playing drums and guitar and things of that nature but this was a step in the wrong direction in the eyes of many."

The cover photo is a picture of Sam standing on his back porch in the latter part of 1998, just before he got his first sampler. He was 13 years old, in 8th grade. His dad took the picture with his 35mm film camera: "I actually wanted to be pointing my dad's .22 pistol at the camera lens but he wouldn't let me. He gave me an old walking cane to use instead. The Tommy Hilfiger puffer jacket came from the lost and found at William Fleming High School where my mom worked as a secretary. I was thrilled when she brought it home because we never spent money on expensive name brand clothing like that - we were for the most part strictly a sale rack, bargain bin, thrift store, yard sale, flea market kind of family when it came to clothes. My watch is some cheap off-brand fake gold department store watch." Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry.