Cerca:tease

Berlin-based French-Irish multimedia artist Zoe Mc Pherson levels up on their third full-length "Pitch Blender", mangling years of experience DJing and performing live into a tight set of cybernetic soundsystem experiments that flicker between the rave and the art space.

Cast your mind back to February 2020 for a moment, when Mc Pherson released their last album "States of Fugue". The world seemed less tangled somehow, and yet Mc Pherson's precision-engineered fusion of exploratory sound design and visceral club pressure seemed to hint at a cataclysmic event none of us were really expecting. Only a few weeks after its release the world changed forever, and the majority of us were grounded - forced to consider our lives and the movement (or lack thereof) surrounding us. The philosophy of this extended time period is welded into the bones of "Pitch Blender", Mc Pherson's supple third album. They have learned plenty in the last two years, and infuse all of that anxiety and spiky emotionality into a spread of tracks that sound as powerful in headphones as they do over a well-tweaked soundsystem, soldering vocals, environmental recordings and instrumental flourishes to unpredictably pneumatic, cybernetic beats.

Anyone that's caught one of Mc Pherson's energetic live performances over the last few months will have an idea of what "Pitch Blender" is made of. They're an artist who's somehow able to match the raw energy of post-punk and no-wave music with the brain-altering potential of the best experimental club tracks, vocalizing an incongruous post-lockdown reality over beats that sound as if they're in a permanent state of flux. 'On Fire' splutters to life in a frenetic patter of drums that blur into oddly soothing hoover sounds, snaking lysergically towards a drop that's teased constantly, and never comes. We're forced to wait until 'The Spark' for that, fighting through choppy, pitch-mangled guitar and rolling beats until a gruesome kick drum forces its way through the psilocybin mists and heaving Bristol-inspired bass clonks. Backed up with just the inverted traces of recognizable breaks, this vigorous pulse lies at the heart of "Pitch Blender", the driving force that powers Mc Pherson's sound even when it's only hinted at.

'Blender' is the moment where Mc Pherson show their full hand, using crackling sound effects, ghost vocals and uneven rhythms to build a textural landscape that's so evocative you can almost taste it. Squealing modular synth effects sound like gameshow buzzers being triggered in another dimension and propel the track forward - it's club music, just about, but Mc Pherson's motivation is world-building, and their world is colorful, abstract, and dizzyingly surreal. "Obsolete user," their voice echoes over driving airlock kicks. But they take a swift left turn with 'Lamella', reducing the kinetic club rhythms to a longing simmer and letting loose with powerful vocals, intoning with robotic, gender-fluxed intensity. On 'Wait', New York City's clacking crosswalk signal - already an effective club track on its own - is transformed into a reminder to slow down, juxtaposed with booming sub-heavy kicks, acidic synths and effervescent percussion that rattles in time with the vibrations. It's foley rave, built for pure psychedelic intensity to blur the line between real life and sonic fiction.

One of the album's most galvanic tracks, 'Power Dynamics' curves a double-time rhythm around breathless HQ sound design squiggles until it hits a polyrhythmic crescendo, striking a queasy balance between rave hedonism and ritualistic hand drum energy. It all builds towards eerie closing track 'Outside' that acts as an important wind down, spotlighting Mc Pherson's ability to operate outside of the rhythmic spectrum, using cinematic scrapes and flickering neon synths to create music that's tense but never terrifying. The track feels like the end credits of a particularly bewildering movie - something between the cyberpunk dystopia of "Ghost in the Shell" and the vivid, sky-scraping beauty of "Koyaanisqatsi". Mc Pherson has managed something special with "Pitch Blender": mashing together genres with rare focus, and sharpening their engineering skills to a fine point, they've concocted an antidote to contemporary malaise - a wakeup call that's begging us to loosen our limbs and move.

Solo artist debut album for Vidar Landa, mostly known as guitarist and co-founder of the Norwegian rock/metal group Kvelertak and the powerpop outfit Beachheads. For his solo work he record and performs under the name King Hüsky.

A self-annointed ‘over thinker’, nudged into sociability with dark humour and most comfortable in the silent company of books, Landa’s sidewards step into the realms of subtle, honeysweet songcraft peaks with the release of the first, self-titled King Hüsky album Nine tracks are set to offer listeners the same loosely-assembled, yet graciously insistent sonic experience inherent to not only the single Lately I’ve Been Thinking Of Your Mother, but also King Hüsky’s skip-a-long, late-2024 teaser Running

As spring teases the summer ahead and overall lightness returns, T3R016 delivers highly intense peak-time euphoria by Dutch-born and Berlin-based hardware phenomenon Nadia Struiwigh. Her masterful storytelling shines through two tracks consisting of hard-hitting, yet dynamic drum arrangements and melodious breaks.
The remixes by Andy Martin and UFO95 build on this drive whilst offering striking contrasts. Witness Andy convince listeners once again with expressive melodies and trippy sound design, while UFO95 flawlessly adds contemporary, raw and beepy energy to the release.

Four tracks that are truly primed for moments of pure motion will entirely make the winter disappear.

Teaser Sweet aus Schweden haben in ihrer heimischen Szene bereits gehörig Staub aufgewirbelt. Der Startschuss fiel ursprünglich im Jahre 2013, als Marcus Damberg seine Schwester Therese und den damaligen Bassisten Christoffer Cardell fragte: "Wollen wir nicht eine Band gründen?" Die ursprüngliche Besetzung wurde von Kalle Krantz am Schlagzeug komplettiert. Anfänglich spielte man noch Songs von Kiss nach, ehe sukzessive eigenes Material entstand. Nach dem ersten Demo wagte man sich auf die Bühne und spielte in der Folge drei Alben sowie eine EP ein: "Hit And Run" (2015), "In The Night" (EP, 2017), "Hypnotized" (2018) und "Monster" (2020). Für das neue Album "Night Stalker" haben Teaser Sweet nunmehr einen Vertrag bei High Roller Records unterzeichnet. In Therese Damberg besitzen die Schweden eine Sängerin, deren Stimme an eine Kreuzung aus Acids Kate, Leather Leone und Johanna von Lucifer erinnert.

Teaser Sweet setzen die lange Tradition von schwedischen Bands mit weiblicher Beteiligung fort, angefangen mit Crucified Barbara, über Slingblade und Thundermother, bis hin zu The Gems. Therese Damberg gibt allerdings zu bedenken: "Ganz bestimmt haben ABBA mit dazu beigetragen, dass schwedische Frauen das Selbstbewusstsein besitzen, Musik zu machen. Für mich ist es jedoch selbstverständlich, dass es im Hardrock Sängerinnen gibt - es existieren ja auch genügend Bands, die nur aus Männern bestehen. Ich sehe da jedenfalls keinen Unterschied."
Musikalisch zeigen sich Teaser Sweet von Judas Priest, Black Sabbath, Dio und den späten Europe inspiriert. Mit seiner galoppierenden Bassarbeit erinnert ein Song wie "Deep In The Woods" zudem an Iron Maiden.

Teaser Sweet aus Schweden haben in ihrer heimischen Szene bereits gehörig Staub aufgewirbelt. Der Startschuss fiel ursprünglich im Jahre 2013, als Marcus Damberg seine Schwester Therese und den damaligen Bassisten Christoffer Cardell fragte: "Wollen wir nicht eine Band gründen?" Die ursprüngliche Besetzung wurde von Kalle Krantz am Schlagzeug komplettiert. Anfänglich spielte man noch Songs von Kiss nach, ehe sukzessive eigenes Material entstand. Nach dem ersten Demo wagte man sich auf die Bühne und spielte in der Folge drei Alben sowie eine EP ein: "Hit And Run" (2015), "In The Night" (EP, 2017), "Hypnotized" (2018) und "Monster" (2020). Für das neue Album "Night Stalker" haben Teaser Sweet nunmehr einen Vertrag bei High Roller Records unterzeichnet. In Therese Damberg besitzen die Schweden eine Sängerin, deren Stimme an eine Kreuzung aus Acids Kate, Leather Leone und Johanna von Lucifer erinnert.

Teaser Sweet setzen die lange Tradition von schwedischen Bands mit weiblicher Beteiligung fort, angefangen mit Crucified Barbara, über Slingblade und Thundermother, bis hin zu The Gems. Therese Damberg gibt allerdings zu bedenken: "Ganz bestimmt haben ABBA mit dazu beigetragen, dass schwedische Frauen das Selbstbewusstsein besitzen, Musik zu machen. Für mich ist es jedoch selbstverständlich, dass es im Hardrock Sängerinnen gibt - es existieren ja auch genügend Bands, die nur aus Männern bestehen. Ich sehe da jedenfalls keinen Unterschied."
Musikalisch zeigen sich Teaser Sweet von Judas Priest, Black Sabbath, Dio und den späten Europe inspiriert. Mit seiner galoppierenden Bassarbeit erinnert ein Song wie "Deep In The Woods" zudem an Iron Maiden.

Industrial Hardcore Techno straight out of Rotterdam.
Under the motto 'Make Hardcore Scary again' GOPNIK delivers.
3 analog 90s infused hardcore bangers, including a nasty Tripped remix which once again, teases with double tempo early terror.

Please note that this is not contemporary 'hard techno'.
We apologise for confusing you by labeling genres correctly.

Get in!

Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers are a powerhouse, celebrated for their raw emotion and incisive social observations. Their talent has earned them nominations for Best Independent Punk Album or EP at the AIR Awards, Emerging Songwriter of the Year and Song of the Year at the APRA Awards, along with nods from the J Awards and Rolling Stone Awards. Recognised as Spotify's RADAR Artist, their rising global influence is undeniable.

Following their award winning 2022 EP, Pretty Good For A Girl Band, their debut album I Love You charted at number 6 on the ARIA Albums Chart, marking a significant milestone. The accompanying tour saw them sell out iconic venues like 170 Russell in Melbourne, the Metro Theatre in Sydney, and The Triffid in Brisbane. They capped off the year supporting the Foo Fighters at AAMI Park in Melbourne and launched into 2024 by supporting The Vaccines across the EU/UK. They will support Pearl Jam on select dates in the United States mid-2025.

I Love You showcases the bands growth, with each member contributing to songwriting. It stands as a definitive statement of their sound—joy, rage, and euphoria, delivered with precision and heart. Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers continue to make waves, solidifying their place in the music industry.

Brand new repress of the Gentlemans Pistols legendary album. Hustler's Row is Gentlemans Pistols third album after the self-titled Gentlemans Pistols (2007) and the critically acclaimed At Her Majesty's Pleasure (2011). Hustler's Row is a solid melodic hard rock release with a strong 70's classic rock vibe and we would definitely recommend it to the fans of the genre.

Brand new repress of the Gentlemans Pistols legendary album. Hustler's Row is Gentlemans Pistols third album after the self-titled Gentlemans Pistols (2007) and the critically acclaimed At Her Majesty's Pleasure (2011). Hustler's Row is a solid melodic hard rock release with a strong 70's classic rock vibe and we would definitely recommend it to the fans of the genre.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Worldship Music returns for 2025 with a brand new various artists EP sure to set all soulful dancefloors on fire. The second installation of the Herald Traccs series welcomes back label stalwarts Roberta and Trilaterals while bringing Reelsoul into the fold as well, of course alongside a cut by imprint head Teflon Dons.

Reelsoul kicks proceedings off with a stunningly beautiful version of an all time classic jazz inflected dance jam “La Costa”. Leaning into the sophisticated vocal harmonies, a bed of warm instrumentation carries this familiar joint seamlessly into the modern era. New crowds and veterans alike will be swept away on an unforgettable lover’s holiday to the seashore.
Trilaterals come through in full on party mode on “Flo Jo”. Filtered and chopped samples from a funk staple are twisted into a swinging groove that will have house dancers going off. The stripped back arrangement teases with energy before exploding into dancefloor ecstasy. Adept sample spotters will be sure to get the title reference, a wink and a nod to two legends of black American culture.
Teflon Dons can’t help but put their underground edge into the music, with “DONTWANTU2GO”’s tough drums immediately signaling the late nite intentions of this banger. Pleading vocals and pitched chords add a twinge of that distinctive deep house melancholy before the strings drop in and take the jam to the next level.
Roberta is a perfect choice to end the EP with the smoky jazz club vibes of “Hang Back”. Gritty drums and electric piano riffs provide the hypnotic backbone, while flute and vibes add funky flourishes on top. This is the kind of cut that is sure to elicit whoops of joy from exhausted dancers catching a second wind thanks to its undeniable electricity.

A long standing resident of the infamous FOLD in London whose risen to prominence with electrifying performances across Europe and a growing discography on esteemed labels such as Ear To Ground, Natural Selection, Raw Quarter, Laburnum, and Mhost Likely , Andromeda unveils her debut on Rant & Rave with Dark Matter EP. Drawing inspiration from the raw essence of 90s techno, with it she hones in her skills with modular synthesis and hardware production.


The EP opens with the title track, where a brooding tapestry of foreboding synths gradually rise in pitch and complexity, simulating the mysterious expansion of the cosmos. Lost Planet follows with hypnotic leads and an unyielding rhythm section. Appropriately titled Black Hole follows which cuts through with razor-sharp stabs and a resonating bassline. Closing with El Abismo, Andromeda ventures into darker sonic territories. This track is a no holds barred assault, where interwoven synth lines clash against commanding percussion and a punishing kick, asserting dominance over the dance floor with commanding force.


As a digital bonus, Andromeda invites Severn Electronics label owner, 7XINS, who delivers an outstanding remix of Black Hole. With his signature sound, 7XINS layers complex synth textures and reverberated drum patterns that twist the mind and tease the senses, crafting a remix that is as intricate as it is impactful.

Gold vinyl. Building on the momentum of their debut, Shooting Star returned in 1981 with Hang On for Your Life, a dynamic follow-up that further cemented their place in the AOR rock scene. The album delivered a mix of anthemic rock and melodic hooks, with standout tracks like "Hang On for Your Life," "Hollywood," "Breakout," and "Are You on My Side" all receiving steady radio airplay. One of the album's most unique moments came with "Flesh and Blood," an up-tempo rock song featuring a soaring violin solo_a rarity in the genre that highlighted the band's signature sound. While the record found success on rock stations, it also marked the end of an era, as founding keyboardist Bill Guffey departed the band following its release. With Van McLain, Gary West, Charles Waltz, Ron Verlin, and Steve Thomas still at the helm, Hang On for Your Life captured Shooting Star at their peak_an ambitious, hard-driving rock band with a sound that was both melodic and powerful.

White/Gold Sunburst Vinyl. Building on the momentum of their debut, Shooting Star returned in 1981 with Hang On for Your Life, a dynamic follow-up that further cemented their place in the AOR rock scene. The album delivered a mix of anthemic rock and melodic hooks, with standout tracks like "Hang On for Your Life," "Hollywood," "Breakout," and "Are You on My Side" all receiving steady radio airplay. One of the album's most unique moments came with "Flesh and Blood," an up-tempo rock song featuring a soaring violin solo_a rarity in the genre that highlighted the band's signature sound. While the record found success on rock stations, it also marked the end of an era, as founding keyboardist Bill Guffey departed the band following its release. With Van McLain, Gary West, Charles Waltz, Ron Verlin, and Steve Thomas still at the helm, Hang On for Your Life captured Shooting Star at their peak_an ambitious, hard-driving rock band with a sound that was both melodic and powerful.

Hello Softies,
Too Slow To Disco NEO is back with a (mellow) bang

A colored, strictly limited teaser 12 Inch featuring two exclusive new tracks:
Side A - a warm, lazy dub-disco track by L.A.'s electronic-slow-disco musician TURBOTITO
Side B - a funky Vibes4YourSoul Remix for mysterious New York artist 1-900.

Both tracks will be released on our sister label Too Slow Too Disco NEO, invented by Dj Supermarkt for modern, warm Sunset Disco.

Side A is also the first track from our upcoming summer compilation THE SUNSET MANIFESTO 2.
(featuring exclusive tracks/remixes by Poolside, Young Gun Silver Fox, Prep & Eddie Chacon, Woolfy, Lovetempo, Joel Sarakula a.m.m.
Side B will exclusively be available only on this 12 Inch

The tracks take the listener on a warm trip into a modern, laidback electronic sunset disco land, where groovy Westcoast-vibes meet dreamy Balearic sounds, mixed with a modern Nu-Disco/Daytime Disco style.

Enjoy your bottled sunshine (responsibly)!