quête:submerge

Belgian DJ and producer Gratts have joined forces with London-based vocalist Mr. Beale to follow up on to success of their well-received 'Sun Circles' release last year. Here, on the sublime 'Submerge Me', they are in fine form once more with a brooding sound that features the uniquely mesmerising mantras of Beale and plenty of raw, compelling and percussive grooves that full lock you in and get you going. Versatile Records' own Gilb'r then steps up on the flip and manages to take things even deeper with some fine liquid dub excursions to complete a top 7"

Jerome Thomas kehrt zurück mit seinem neuen Album “Submerge”, das in Zusammenarbeit mit dem Produzenten Pitch 92 entstanden ist und nimmt uns mit auf eine zutiefst menschlichen Entdeckungsreise. Textlich setzt sich Jerome mit den Themen Schwarzsein, der Suche nach Sicherheit sowie der Komplexität von Liebe und Lust auseinander. Klanglich verbindet das Projekt musikalische Einflüsse der Vergangenheit mit einer zeitgenössischen Produktion und lässt uns eintauchen in eine Mischung aus Jazz, R&B und 70’s Soul.

Der in Hackeney, London, geborene und aufgewachsene Jerome Thomas ist bekannt für sein umfangreiches stimmliches Können und die Fähigkeit, Soul auf seine eigene Art und Weise einen zeitgemäßen Kontext zu verleihen. Er hat bereits mit Künstlern und Produzenten wie FloFilz, Talos, Blue Lab Beats, Joe Armon-Jones, Serious Klein, Maxwell Owin und Bluestaeb zusammengearbeitet.

Early support by: JOSEPH CAPRIATI, LUKE SLATER, VIRGIL ENZINGER, BAS MOOY, SUBMERGE, ERIC SNEO, CARI LEKEBUSCH, ROBERT NATUS, LARS KLEIN, PFIRTER, TECHNASIA, RUYJI TAKEUSCHI, TOM HADES, A.MOCHI, ODESSA SOUNDFREAKS, ARCANE, FLOTEK, DJ BALTHAZAR, DJ MIKA, MP LEARY, BOBBY DOWELL, DR.HOFFMANN, MATT K and many more!!!

Fully seasoned Italian techno architect Claudio PRC loves Lee "Scratch" Perry and more electronic-leaning deep smiths such as Chain Reaction and Basic Channel who have influenced him over the years and now bring those vibes to the fore. 'Submerged' is immediately horizontal and glacial in pace, with pads that are just and pure and an energy that is impossibly cathartic. The Version on the flip drops in some gentle drums that bring a soft forward momentum. Two lovely excursions.

Demilitarize follows Nazar’s remarkable 2020 debut Guerrilla, which reprocessed Angolan kuduro music with rough textures, field recordings and media clips, telling a personal story of the civil war that exiled his family to Europe, while his father, a rebel General, fought a losing battle in the jungle back home. After Guerrilla, and an extended period of serious illness, now Demilitarize is motivated by a reckoning with mortality and the flowering of new love, turning the ‘rough kuduro’ of Guerrilla inside out.This is a deep sound world, genuinely dreamy, the arc of the album describing shedding the armour of trauma and surrendering to this new situation. A constant and unexpected aspect of Demilitarize is Nazar's gentle, submerged vocal. Insistent and mantra-like, it’s like a cross between Elisabeth Frazer, Arthur Russell and Frank Ocean, and the music is fragile and opaque in response. The rhythms of kuduro are still here,but move around his voice like fish around a swimmer, while precise sound design illuminates from different angles. Chords spiral, ripple and shoot through the beats giving tracks the loosest of settings; songs disassemble; vocals float off-centre.

In Gianfranco Rosi’s portrait of Naples, Sotto le Nuvole, the ground shakes periodically. Between Mount Vesuvius and the Tyrrhenian Sea, the fumaroles of the Phlegraean Fields hiss volcanic gas and steam. Below the sleeping volcano, modern day Naples emerges in black and white and fills with voices, with lives. From the traces of history and the concerns of the present, Rosi documents a city immersed in its continuous past, with Daniel Blumberg’s minimal soundscape hovering in a sonic space between liquid and air.
Tasked with creating a soundscape that would suspend space within Rosi’s film, Blumberg called upon the extended technique of saxophonists Seymour Wright and John Butcher to create a gossamer fabric of traces and sounds abstracted from their instruments. Having transitioned from theoretical physics to the saxophone, John Butcher has always deeply considered space in the context of his playing. His concerns are with flow, density and how the saxophone is situated in the living world. Zeroing in on the core sonic properties of the mechanical and acoustic components of the saxophone, Seymour Wright has integrated its every breath, reed vibration, keypad clatter and hissed microtone of his alto into his own, unique improvisational language. In his work with these two seminal players, Blumberg makes his most concentrated soundtrack to date - reinforcing the film's sense of overlapping time and space, and pushing at the limits of experimentation.

Initially recorded in Daniel’s flat in London, Butcher and Wright centre themselves around long, consistent tones, so soft that it seems breath is being gently pulled from the saxophone's bell by an invisible hand. Blumberg himself adds haunting bass harmonica, and recordings of Wright’s launeddas - a traditional and ancient triple pipe polyphonic reed instrument from Sardinia, Italy. Blumberg then travelled to the volcanic region of Baia, next to Pompeii. Once a flourishing classical Roman city loved by Nero, Baia slowly sank under hydrothermal pressure, leaving the city in a kind of geological purgatory. Using specialised geophones and hydrophones, Blumberg took those initial recordings and amplified them underwater, sending them calling out across the ruins of Baia’s mosaics, Nymphaeum statues and villas.

“It was important to me that the music was whispered in the same landscape that Gianfranco has worked for the past three years, so that you can hear the volcanic air gulping, the lapping of the waves, the steam and bubbles popping against John and Seymour’s saxophone breaths – an echo from a suspended time.”
What emerges is deeply melancholic, tender, subtle and right at the edges of audio technology. Submerged in an aquarian mausoleum, the mysterious vibrations of the saxophone and its bell become an echo of an echo, wading from the future into the past. ‘Sotto le Nuvole’ is less a soundtrack than a process of aeration - a sonic puncture in the material of the film which allows its central message to breathe, and a remarkable experiment at the limits of the saxophone’s possibility.

Steve O’Sullivan returns under his Bluetrain alias, channeling the essence of dub into groovy,
endlessly cycling patterns shaped by submerged chords and tectonic low-end pressure. The influence of Mike Ink’s monolithic Studio One era is unmistakable, where reduction becomes
propulsion and each delay-trail etches its own pulse into the haze. Limited colourec vinyl.

Steve O’Sullivan returns under his Bluetrain alias, channeling the essence of dub into groovy,
endlessly cycling patterns shaped by submerged chords and tectonic low-end pressure. The influence of Mike Ink’s monolithic Studio One era is unmistakable, where reduction becomes
propulsion and each delay-trail etches its own pulse into the haze. Limited colourec vinyl.

Deaf Center travel through quiet pathways and grand boulevards in their fourth studio album “Through Time”.

Since their last full-length LP, “Low Distance” (2019), the duo has gradually shifted towards a more long-form electroacoustic sound which perhaps makes for their most immersive listening experience so far. Otto A Totland’s piano travels in less frequent rhythms than before, yet is felt even more as a relief in the quieter moments that contrast with Erik K Skodvin’s deep atmospheric worlds. There’s a searching quality within the record which feels like slow movements on the way towards something meaningful, capturing a sense of both peace and awe.

The latter part of the album takes a different turn: fluctuating electronic rhythms over deep strings create an ecstatic yet haunting duality. It is the first time a guest musician appears on a Deaf Center record: British composer and musician Simon Goff joins with violin and viola in the finale, “Further”, a hypnotising piece submerged in layers of strings and drones.

The subject of time is an ambitious one, yet Deaf Center manage to balance the humble with the grand in great warmth as seconds become minutes, hours become days and time seemingly freezes as a still-life moment.

Deaf Center travel through quiet pathways and grand boulevards in their fourth studio album “Through Time”.

Since their last full-length LP, “Low Distance” (2019), the duo has gradually shifted towards a more long-form electroacoustic sound which perhaps makes for their most immersive listening experience so far. Otto A Totland’s piano travels in less frequent rhythms than before, yet is felt even more as a relief in the quieter moments that contrast with Erik K Skodvin’s deep atmospheric worlds. There’s a searching quality within the record which feels like slow movements on the way towards something meaningful, capturing a sense of both peace and awe.

The latter part of the album takes a different turn: fluctuating electronic rhythms over deep strings create an ecstatic yet haunting duality. It is the first time a guest musician appears on a Deaf Center record: British composer and musician Simon Goff joins with violin and viola in the finale, “Further”, a hypnotising piece submerged in layers of strings and drones.

The subject of time is an ambitious one, yet Deaf Center manage to balance the humble with the grand in great warmth as seconds become minutes, hours become days and time seemingly freezes as a still-life moment.

Hand Stamped and strong limited! Analog and organic textures, patient grooves, no pressure. Built for trippy nights, long blends and moments when doubt turns into clarity. Poul Verner celebrates his debut on Nowawes with “Change My Mind.” Laid back dub techno on limited hand-stamped vinyl, deep and steady, driven by a grooving bassline, produced in Babelsberg, once known as Nowawes. From the submerged chords and playful percussion of the A side title track to the stripped down, dreamy late night drive of the Lesterr Interpretation on the B side, this record stays close to the floor.

DISPLACES represents Fabris' most personal musical journey to date, inspired by the concept of hyperobjects and cartographic practices. The album sculpts a high-dimensional phased time-space composed of concrete materials and digital archetypes in a state of constant displacement. It delves into the symbolic and philosophical realms of mapping as one of the greatest sense-making mechanisms for life, in dialogue with object-oriented environments, superimposition and non-locality applied to cosmic, temporal, and emotional memory.

The sonic ecosystem expands on the image of navigating a path through a set of places, from the microcosm of quanta to the macro force of dark matter, from underwater depths to overland terrains, encapsulating the cyclical flow between birth and death, both in ecological and anthropological sense. The intersection of these shifting states is explored through the extensive processing of the langspil, Iceland's only traditional instrument, intertwined with manipulated field recordings of biophonies and geophonies captured across Icelandic and Venetian territories. These recordings form the backdrop for a meditative process that relocate familiar objects into unfamiliar realms, reflecting on the transformative power of self-reflection while encapsulating the fragmentation and entanglement found in nature and the human state. The record plunges the listener into a disconcerting and physical soundscape, as a “ghostly spectrality that comes in and out of phase with normalized human spacetime,” evoking sensations of suffocation and release as each layer continuously unfolds the palimpsest of the enclosed labyrinth.

“Extraction of the I” embodies a subatomic reaction—erupting as a molecular force that rises, only to re-submerge with a solitary exhale underwater. In this mutated dark space, beluga whales breathe into "Xanadu Phasing," creating a pulsating tension that releases only to unveil a frozen landscape.

In “Barricading the Ice Sheets” the glacial material morphs into a liquid tunnel of digital artifacts, building a wall of noise that shatters into scattered fragments of ice, resembling bird calls from another world.

A moment of stasis is offered with the appearance of an asymmetrical loop in Monolith I, evoking a primitive rite before an unknown force emerges.

The physical intensity of subsonic material in "A Quake in Being" interrupts the hieratic tone, detuning into polluted sonic matter sourced from relics of the First World War in the Venetian Prealps. The geography of this place reconciles with the original homeland in "The Map is the Territory," blending negative space with anthropogenic elements and exploited sounds of the langspil.

The burning density of "Wolf-Rayet" projects into the void, echoing the residual sounds of a local church as relics of fossilized religions. Wolf tones are the remains in Monolith II, introducing the final track, "Topography of Extinction," where evolving psilocin textures invite the listener to uncover deeper layers of meaning and dislocation.

Blue Hour distills over a decade of artistry into his debut album Selva, unearthing eight tracks inspired by ancient wisdom and forgotten worlds.
Blue Hour is the moniker of Luke Standing, a multifaceted artist, producer, and label owner navigating between past and present electronic dance music. Over more than a decade, Standing has built a career balancing transformative craft with a sharp curatorial approach, earning him respect across the global scene. After years of sonic experimentation, he now releases his debut LP Selva. “I never set out to make an LP – it just wrote itself,” he says. “I followed my intuition, and the music found its own path.”
Born and raised in the UK, Standing grew up in parallel with club culture, moving between Brighton, Bristol and Berlin while running club nights and establishing himself under former aliases Furesshu and Esoteric.
He launched his Blue Hour project in late 2013, shortly after relocating to Berlin. Initially a platform for his own music, Blue Hour quickly became a collaborative hub, blurring the lines between personal output and curation. Over time, Standing has cultivated an international ecosystem of like-minded artists while continuously expanding his own sonic horizons.
Selva marks his first full-length studio album, weaving a lifetime of influences into a cohesive narrative inspired by ancient wisdom and forgotten worlds. The eight-track double LP transforms his inner dialogue into a subconscious story pulling inspiration from a labyrinthine network of influence and experience. “I followed the music obsessively, reflecting and refining until the story revealed itself,” Standing explains.
“To me, the LP evokes Amazonian or Mayan jungles, themes of exploration, the mysteries of the natural world, wisdom passed down through generations. I didn't set out to write about these things consciously,
they just emerged on their own.” he adds.The album was shaped through intensive work in his studio and periods spent in subtropical locations.
Listening closely, Selva unfolds like a modern ceremony: the opening tracks channel his early UK dance influences, shifting into blends of traditional and contemporary techno, then expanding into melodic soundscapes before concluding with transcendental textures and atmospheres. The result is an introspective journey where functionality and emotive storytelling coexist, revealing a depth in Blue Hour we haven’t heard before.
Whether performing, curating, or producing, Standing operates with a deep commitment to sound, culture, and collaboration. More than an artist, he is an architectural thinker of what electronic music could become. “Every release is my own metamorphosis,” he says. “This LP reflects my current form, and I’m curious to see what the next chapter brings.” Few artists can unify a lifetime of genre-spanning influences into a sound as sharp and focused. On Selva, Blue Hour does exactly that, opening a new era of deeper
immersion from his Berlin-based label.

Contemplating the role of the album format in an attention-deficient society, Speedy J presents Walkman -- a constantly shifting, 90-minute soundtrack to a journey of your choice. Jochem Paap's first solo album in over 20 years is a freewheeling, 20-track testament to his decades-deep studio skill and sonic versatility, running from skewed rhythmic rabbit holes to exploratory tonal abandon. For Paap, the traditional idea of the album had become obscured by listening habits and the non-stop information barrage of our digital lives. Having moved on from his breakthrough years releasing LPs and touring off the back of them, he was more inspired to develop his many-sided STOOR project and feed into a bigger artistic body of work than the temporary shelf-life of a single release. As is natural for any artist, his perspective shifted over time and he found himself drawn back to the idea of an album, realising he connected best with longer releases while he was on a walk, out for a run or generally in transit one way or another. With an endearing call back to the humble Walkman, he selected an hour and a half of material created during studio sessions at the beginning of 2025, perfectly sized to fit on two 45-minute sides of a cassette tape. As has long been the case for his studio practice, there were no fixed intentions when sitting down in the STOOR lab to start making noise -- just a wealth of experience and an expansive set of tools to start exploring with. From hours of jams Paap pulled together standout moments and moulded them into a mixtape-like narrative ranging from two-minute beat nuggets to full-tilt techno workouts and immersive ambient drops. Every sound is intentional, but the overall delivery is instinctive and curious, showing multiple new dimensions to Paap's sound and offering unpredictability at every turn. 'Arp Amp Chasm' opens the album up in a thick blanket of humming, harmonic waves with an electric emotional charge, while 'Ctrssalms17 (Cold Render)' journeys through evocative blooms of melancholic, gritty pads and rugged, half-submerged tech funk. 'Modern Birds (Origin Edit)' reaches skywards with grand sweeps of dynamic, brilliantly rendered synthesis. From the dexterous drum science of 'Drift Vector' to 'Osc Hop (Slow Collapse)'s lurching, beatless swamp of synths, on Walkman even the briefest snapshots leave an impression that lasts beyond the quick-scan cycle of the modern music experience. With his return to the album format, Paap's message is clear --put your headphones on, get outside and lose yourself in the sound of an artist constantly committed to moving forwards.

Manchester's Andrew Hargreaves, known for Tape Loop Orchestra and as a founding member of The Boats, returns under his Beppu alias with a refined full-length for dub techno favourites Lempuyang. Fresh from a celebrated double-LP reissue on Organic Analogue, Hargreaves delivers deep, dust-textured techno that is meticulously sculpted and atmospheric. These grooves move with a slow, hypnotic gravity as rhythms become submerged yet remain gripping. The palette is warm, grainy and future-facing so perfect for the real heads. File this somewhere between Detroit Escalator Company and Bluetrain, an immersive, meditative drift that's sure to become a classic.

Irish drone-doom-folk act One Leg One Eye, the project of founding Lankum member Ian Lynch and veteran noise monger George Brennan, announce their new album, CRONE, out on 1 May on AD 93.

Today the group share the first track on the album, ‘Many are my Names Besides’, on which they are joined by the elemental force that is legendary actor, performer, writer and director Olwen Fouéré (Operating Theatre) contributing vocals.

Olwen Fouéré comments:

“When Ian and George first approached me to work with them, they were already creating the Crone album as a sonic invocation of the ‘sovereignty goddess’, who personifies the land and the legitimacy to rule it, in her darkest and most terrifying form. As we spoke, the triple goddess figure of the Morrigan entered my mind, reinforced by a marked presence of crows every time we met. The Morrigan is essentially a war goddess, frequently appearing as a crow in a battlefield, a death prophet, a guardian of sovereignty, and a very powerful figure in Irish Mythology.

So I invoked her energy as a starting point, using text extracts that Ian sent me from the Ulster Cycle and other sources. The voice recording was done in one day, improvising the source material while the already composed music occupied my psyche through headphones.

Listening back, at this time in our world, I can only wonder at how much blood and war the Crone/ Crow of sovereignty is preparing to unleash now. Watch out.”

CRONE is the second album from Lynch and Brennan, following on from 2022’s slowburn slab of ambient grit, …And Take The Black Worm With Me. Bewildering, psychedelic and ultimately transcendental, the four tracks of One Leg One Eye’s CRONE shapeshift and morph endlessly in a coarse miasma. Traditional song structures and vocal melody are eschewed, instead the trio directly channel energies from the rich seams of mythological significance submerged below the Irish psyche. The anger, rage and beauty of the sovereignty goddess burn a consistent and deliberate line through the album in the form of obscure incantations and dire pronouncements, the gnarled sinews that bind it all together.

Just as the subject matter of the tracks delve deeper into Irish myth and the remote past, the temporal reality of the album reaches back into the bands prehistory, with the majority of it the material being recorded by Lynch and Brennan in 2021 before One Leg One Eye was conceived of as an entity with Brennan working on the CRONE project while Lynch worked on …And Take The Black Worm With Me.

When they were there they saw a lone woman coming to the door of the Hostel, after sunset, and seeking to be let in. As long as a weaver’s beam was each of her two shins, and they were as dark as the back of a stag-beetle. A greyish, wooly mantle she wore. Her lower hair used to reach as far as her knee. Her lips were on one side of her head.

She came and put one of her shoulders against the door-post of the house, casting the evil eye on the king and the youths who surrounded him in the Hostel. He himself addressed her from within.

"Well, O woman," says Conaire, "if thou art a wizard, what seest thou for us?"

"Truly I see for thee," she answers, "that neither fell nor flesh of thine shall escape from the place into which thou hast come, save what birds will bear away in their claws."

"It was not an evil omen we foreboded, O woman," saith he: "it is not thou that always augurs for us. What is thy name, O woman?"

"Calib," she answers.

"That is not much of a name," says Conaire.

"Lo, many are my names besides."

"Which be they?" asks Conaire.

"Easy to say," quoth she. "Samon, Sinand, Seisclend, Sodb, Caill, Coll, Díchóem, Dichiúil, Díthím, Díchuimne, Dichruidne, Dairne, Dáríne, Déruaine, Egem, Agam, Ethamne, Gním, Cluiche, Cethardam, Níth, Némain, Nóennen, Badb, Blosc, Bloár, Huae, óe Aife la Sruth, Mache, Médé, Mod."

On one foot, and holding up one hand, and breathing one breath she sang all that to them from the door of the house.

Das zweite Album des Palace-Records-Gründers Andrei Nikolsky ist stark von Soundtrack- und Library-Musik der Vergangenheit beeinflusst, darunter auch von einem seiner Helden, John Cameron (Kes, KPM, Bruton), der auf dem Album mit dem Song "Swing Time" zu hören ist. Die Platte bietet eine Mischung aus ungewöhnlicher Elektronik, modalem Jazz und experimentellem Disco. Weitere Mitwirkende sind Mitglieder seiner Band The Kanpai Quartet (Charlie Searle, Euan McGinty, Dan Kabakov) sowie die Schlagzeuger Filippo Galli, Mike Bandoni (aka Funkshone) und Felix Weldon (Johnny Dankworth, Ian Shaw, Jean Toussaint, The La's).

- "Verdammt nochmal, Mann, was für ein Jazz!" - Sarah Evans (BBC6-Produzentin)
- "Ein wunderschönes Album! Perfekt für meine One Jazz-Show." - Dom Servini (Wah Wah 45s)
- "Schöne Soundsammlung." - Rory More (Les Hommes)
- "Die neuen Tracks klingen super! Ich mag die Anspielungen auf Disco und die verschiedenen musikalischen Richtungen." - Paul Osborne (Project Gemini)

2026 REPRESS + DOWNLOAD

Years Of Denial is back on Veyl with their second LP 'Suicide Disco Vol. 2'. The follow up to 2019’s 'Suicide Disco', the duo makes a triumphant return, elevating their distinct sound which fuses dark wave, goth, newbeat, post-punk, EBM, and techno. The LP features 12 tracks all written and produced at Ark of Noise studio, located miles away from the polluted noise of social turbulences, immersed in isolation, creative indulgence, and poetic writing.
From the start, 'Art Break' provides the perfect warm-up, gently cleansing the palette and re-introducing us to Barkosina’s lustful vocals with a slow-burning pace that only marks the beginning. 'Wrong' picks things up, injecting a dose of body music for an infectious piece that bleeds into 'La Pendue' which keeps the energy rising. Next up, 'Mr. Guillotine' delivers a razor sharp edge, carving out a fresh post-punk feel which then brings us to the brooding, 'Never Satisfied'.
'Lover’s Crime' marks the halfway point of the record and one of the album’s standout tracks. Undeniably seductive with an ominous feel, the pair keep this mood going with 'City Lights' and then smash things open with 'Dancing With Demons'. After the devious message sent with 'The Letter', we are submerged in the romantic melancholia of 'Death Of A Lover' and 'Regarding the Pain of Others' before closing things out with 'Social Anxiety' which features vocals by longtime collaborator Broken English Club. The result is an immersive journey through the pair’s self described, Suicide Disco sound, and further builds on the Years of Denial form and legacy.

Shed makes his first appearance on Dekmantel with Rave Echoes — a supple, mesmerising album of angular techno caught between the heat of peak time and the time-blurred hours after the club.

A combination of dreamlike atmospherics and rugged propulsion takes on many forms across the album. It's submerged and restrained on 'Loot 25', speckled with sharply sliced breaks on 'Everybody' and scattered across a sparse, steppy soundscape on 'Rave Predator'. Emotive, swooning strings collide with tough, squashed breakstep drums on 'Double Scoop' and 'Taking You Home' thrusts with urgency and rave romanticism in equal measure.

Wielding his signature blend of UK-school soundsystem pressure and Berlin-school techno momentum with poise and purpose, on Rave Echoes Shed offers a perfect impression of those wild, indescribable sensory overloads that leave their mark on anyone devoted to the dancefloor.