quête:the human hands

Following their iconic remix of ‘Space Date’ in 2019, the classic collaborative work of Adam Beyer, Layton Giordani and Green Velvet, we are thrilled to have Pleasurekraft back on Drumcode for their debut solo release on the label.

Not keen to colour within the lines, the production duo caught Adam Beyer’s ear as they carved out their self-dubbed ‘cosmic techno’ niche within the techno genre. Conceived as a musical vision that attempts to go beyond mere hands-in-the-air moments, Pleasurekraft incorporate a cinematic soundscape as a canvas for philosophical themes regarding humanity's place within the cosmos. Their 2020 album, ‘Love in the Age of Machines’ explored the myriad and often dystopian relationships we have with the ubiquitous technologies that pervade our every interaction.

The new two-tracker ‘Sex and the Machine’, continues this thematic trajectory in considering the role machines will increasingly play in satisfying the more carnal desires of our species. The title track considers questions such as, will machines of the future have the capacity for thoughts and feelings? Will our answers to such questions be forever tainted by our singular perspective, unable and unwilling to grant future silicon entities such capabilities? The EP’s second track, ‘Body Horror’, with its repeating refrain, “You are changing”, considers the manner in which future technologies will continue to merge with biological entities giving rise to all manner of unimagined consequences. Both tracks showcase the tough, yet still melody-driven cosmic techno sound Pleasurekraft has become synonymous with. However, despite the cerebral content that inspired the music – the form is still pure dance floor muscle.

Home is a powerful concept with an abstract definition. This solo album takes those subjective ideas and unifies them under one roof. Evolving from Jerve’s #dailypiano posts in 2019, ‘The Soundtrack of My Home’ relays thoughts and improvisations that trace his journey from childhood home to adult and now, father. Nurturing a mood or feeling, each song begets a sonorous story of someone close to him, expressed through the language of piano playing.

Jerve makes use of his hands as a human step sequencer, often programming two or more motifs of varying lengths in a polymetric fashion. These melodic patterns and arpeggios evolve at varying rates but grow around clear progressions with standard 8-bar forms.

The first track - ‘Kjetil’ enters with an earnest, gentle and endearing character - like a young river near its source. As with such a river, it will grow to varied sizes throughout the album but must begin as a humble expression from the source. The following titles sketch his interpretations of the people that have made up his home.

There is a theme across the album that unites the songs, so much so that differentiating tracks can at times be difficult. Though, Jerve punctuates this overarching mood with a few distinct structures, as found in tracks ‘Karoline’ (wife), ‘Espen’ (brother) and ‘Sven’ (father). ‘Turid’ (daughter) and ‘Jon Eirik’ (brother) seem less directive and welcome more intrigue, reminiscent of a curious child wandering through the dappled light of a forest.

‘Iben’ (daughter) and ‘Eivor’ (daughter) have a hypnotic, three-pointed melodic structure that leaves the listener suspended; transfixed - while ‘Sussi’ (cat) carries unique momentum and suitably feline autonomy. ‘Mette’ (mother) has a mood of ascending, like that of a child's upward gaze at their maternal carer. Utterly nuanced in structure, Jerve leaves ample space for subjective interpretation and allows the listener to weave their own life into the tones.

As expected from the founder of Dugnad rec - this album signifies a deeply personal sentiment. Sometimes we are forced to confront the music and other times, we are left to wonder. Here, we find a balance and unity that allows little thoughts and worries to drift away, bringing us warmly to rest in the present. The LP edition's bonus track features producer/performer extraordinaire Stian Balducci, drawing a line to the next chapter of piano-based music from Dugnad rec: TOKYO TAPES: PIANO RECYCLE.

The debut full length album from Gloved Hands, entitled Empty Terminal, finds the musician straying from the dance floor in search of something amorphous and less tangible. Ambient in nature, the eight tracks that comprise the LP have a deep focus on texture, space, and human feelings rather than a need for constant propulsion and momentum.

The A-side, the more rhythmic and percussive of the two, is awash with vague echos and smudged, slow-moving chords. Subaqueous drums shift in and out of focus. Sound sources are at once distant and intimately close. The curtains part to reveal a glimpse of a crystalline melody or a fraction of a vocal phrase only for the room to fill with fragrant smoke and go dark. It is a place beyond the dance floor. Perhaps it's a place without any floor at all.

The B-side is even more fragile and diaphanous. The foreground and background are obscured, leaving a hazy mesh of delicate, interwoven forms and rhythms; glistening and brushing against one another in the warm, dimly-lit space in between. With a swirling mix of cavernous bass and sweet-but-never-saccharine melody, the details are stretched and abstracted into something new yet familiar. The compositions ripple in midair, appearing and vanishing, close but just out of reach.



b A2 The Hungry Army Arrived As the Beans Ripened Master

In The Land of Silence is the first full length album by experimental artist Ireen Amnes. The founder of the London based collective Under My Feet. debuts on Sonic Groove with an immaterial journey contemplating suffering, liberation, the importance of affection and unity. This ambient album reveals a hidden connection between these human emotions. From anger and rejection, to love and unity, the sounds explored by the artist represent a recent journey within. Recollections of distant memories are expressed with nostalgic sounds; by contrast, darker tracks are symbolic of those moments when it is more dif ficult to accept reality for what it is. Ireen expresses in this album that there wouldn’t be any joy without suffering.

Sounds created out of emotions that cannot be spoken. Beats that pulse out of gestures that can no longer be performed. Tones that screech out of bodies that can no longer be human. Echoes of all unspoken words reverb into the wounds of time; that constant ebb and flow of existence; that relentless stomping of exchanges. The slur of life is now noise – she collects its torn pieces with her bare hands and holds them close to her pounding flesh. She now sways in and out of consciousness, transported by nothing but his will to life, his ecstatic memory, his murmured love that now forms this soundtrack to her life.

More than half a century into its existence, heavy metal still prowls as a living force in the dark, and Vancouver's SPELL summon that spirit with defiant conviction on their fifth album, 'Wretched Heart'. Rejecting the safety of nostalgia, the band; Cam Mesmer, Al Lester, Gabriel Tenebrae and Jeff Black, step beyond retro homage into shadowy new terrain, where harmony guitars blaze like torches against the night and gothic atmospheres coil around songs pulsing with desperation, longing, and wild exaltation. Forged through the fire of the stage and shaped by trusted collaborators, this is SPELL at their most potent: dramatic, vulnerable, and unafraid of excess. From existential laments to bittersweet anthems that shimmer with both steel and sorrow, 'Wretched Heart' beats with a fiercely human pulse. In SPELL's hands, heavy metal is no museum relic but a darkly romantic covenant-restless, cathartic, and forever reaching beyond the veil.

More than half a century into its existence, heavy metal still prowls as a living force in the dark, and Vancouver's SPELL summon that spirit with defiant conviction on their fifth album, 'Wretched Heart'. Rejecting the safety of nostalgia, the band; Cam Mesmer, Al Lester, Gabriel Tenebrae and Jeff Black, step beyond retro homage into shadowy new terrain, where harmony guitars blaze like torches against the night and gothic atmospheres coil around songs pulsing with desperation, longing, and wild exaltation. Forged through the fire of the stage and shaped by trusted collaborators, this is SPELL at their most potent: dramatic, vulnerable, and unafraid of excess. From existential laments to bittersweet anthems that shimmer with both steel and sorrow, 'Wretched Heart' beats with a fiercely human pulse. In SPELL's hands, heavy metal is no museum relic but a darkly romantic covenant-restless, cathartic, and forever reaching beyond the veil.

More than half a century into its existence, heavy metal still prowls as a living force in the dark, and Vancouver's SPELL summon that spirit with defiant conviction on their fifth album, 'Wretched Heart'. Rejecting the safety of nostalgia, the band; Cam Mesmer, Al Lester, Gabriel Tenebrae and Jeff Black, step beyond retro homage into shadowy new terrain, where harmony guitars blaze like torches against the night and gothic atmospheres coil around songs pulsing with desperation, longing, and wild exaltation. Forged through the fire of the stage and shaped by trusted collaborators, this is SPELL at their most potent: dramatic, vulnerable, and unafraid of excess. From existential laments to bittersweet anthems that shimmer with both steel and sorrow, 'Wretched Heart' beats with a fiercely human pulse. In SPELL's hands, heavy metal is no museum relic but a darkly romantic covenant-restless, cathartic, and forever reaching beyond the veil.

Schatterau’s third album, »Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« (We went through empty hours), sees the German duo blossoms with beauty and sophistication through a broad creative language.

This opus, presented in the form of vivid auditory tableaux vivants, explores the topography of memory as a landscape in constant motion – full of loops, feedbacks, and mirage-like distortions. Sounds climbing like vines over old walls, concealing details only to reveal new ones. Some pieces feel like fragments of a dream whose origin has vanished, others like displaced echoes of a day long gone.

Memories create paths that only become visible in retrospect – detours that somehow always lead back to oneself. Each track draws the listener into a different recollection, as if opening an old door. Inside, time behaves strangely: it jumps, stretches, and repeats.

»Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« ultimately presents Schatterau at their most experimental, complex and measured extremes, channelling ambiguous human emotional resonance ranging from melancholy to pure ecstasy.

"The Outfit release career defining new album, Preservers of the Pearl, asserting themselves as messengers of the new wave of underground rock and roll, pushing the movement forward alongside fellow trailblazers Mystery Lights, Sheer Mag, Shadow Show, Uni Boys + more.

Everything has been leading here. Daniel Romano shifts from his position as sole writer, opening the floor to Outfit stalwarts Ian Romano and Carson McHone, and welcoming into the fold longtime friend and legendary Canadian rock-n-roller, Tommy Major. The band is functioning as a true collective — multiple voices and perspectives — all serving one creative pulse. The result is both a new beginning and a homecoming, a complete and fearless statement.

Tracked to tape at their own Camera Varda studio, the album captures the band live in the room — breathing, musing, and believing. It’s the sound of human hands and hearts at work, in a shared moment of co-creation, preserved in real time in stunning hi-fi.

Here is music as communion — rock n roll as experience. Preservers of the Pearl rejects the flattening forces in modern times — what the band calls “the mono-agriculture of the mind.” In a “target culture”, condemned to homogeny and banality, The Outfit refuse polish and uniformity, embracing imperfection as truth, and promoting curiosity through creativity. At the center of it all is a deep spiritual current — what The Outfit calls Rock & Roll Magick: the belief that music is a sacred act, a force that can reconnect the individual to what is larger.

The Outfit are making music that is purposeful and profoundly urgent. Preservers of the Pearl is an invocation - it’s fearless in a time of great compromise, and resolute in an age of peripheral bullshit. Here is a band serving something greater than themselves."

"The Outfit release career defining new album, Preservers of the Pearl, asserting themselves as messengers of the new wave of underground rock and roll, pushing the movement forward alongside fellow trailblazers Mystery Lights, Sheer Mag, Shadow Show, Uni Boys + more.

Everything has been leading here. Daniel Romano shifts from his position as sole writer, opening the floor to Outfit stalwarts Ian Romano and Carson McHone, and welcoming into the fold longtime friend and legendary Canadian rock-n-roller, Tommy Major. The band is functioning as a true collective — multiple voices and perspectives — all serving one creative pulse. The result is both a new beginning and a homecoming, a complete and fearless statement.

Tracked to tape at their own Camera Varda studio, the album captures the band live in the room — breathing, musing, and believing. It’s the sound of human hands and hearts at work, in a shared moment of co-creation, preserved in real time in stunning hi-fi.

Here is music as communion — rock n roll as experience. Preservers of the Pearl rejects the flattening forces in modern times — what the band calls “the mono-agriculture of the mind.” In a “target culture”, condemned to homogeny and banality, The Outfit refuse polish and uniformity, embracing imperfection as truth, and promoting curiosity through creativity. At the center of it all is a deep spiritual current — what The Outfit calls Rock & Roll Magick: the belief that music is a sacred act, a force that can reconnect the individual to what is larger.

The Outfit are making music that is purposeful and profoundly urgent. Preservers of the Pearl is an invocation - it’s fearless in a time of great compromise, and resolute in an age of peripheral bullshit. Here is a band serving something greater than themselves."

Mia Zapata was the greatest rock singer of her time. She may have likely been the greatest blues singer in punk rock history, the woman who married the 78 and the '78. Tragedy did not make this true. Mia Zapata made this true, and the ferocious, spring-loaded shrapnel frame that was built around her by Andy Kessler (guitar: metronomic and furious), Matt Dresdner (bass: fluid, punching, beat-addicted and melodic), and Steve Moriarty (drums: martial and explosive) - who, with Mia, combined to form The Gits - made it true. The Gits were formed at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio in mid-1986, grabbing and swapping pieces of art, thrash, noise, punk rock, classic rock, and all the sorts of magical silly and bookish jingle bells that an old-school liberal arts education handed you; for the next few years they worked on turning it all into something tough, sensitive, both brutal and kind. Andy, Matt, Mia, and Steve moved to Seattle in middish 1989, landing in a house on Capitol Hill where they (and fellow travelers) wood-shedded and rehearsed for the next few years. The Gits put out three EPs in 1990 and '91 before signing with C/Z Records and releasing their first full-length album, Frenching the Bully. Seattle quickly claimed the quartet as their own and embraced the Gits blend of ferocious fangs and soft heart, the slug/slap of the guitars, and the gorgeous, soft underbelly of the poetic emotions. These qualities not only fit in with the doe-eyed/sharp-clawed grunge ethos but earned the Gits the respect of their peers, including Nirvana, who tapped them to open a major local show in 1990. Then other stuff happened, and their frantic, confessional barbed-heart snowball began rolling up hill very, very fast; the Gits "quickly" (hah! After half a decade learning to implode and explode hearts and stomping their boots on manifold beer-softened, Marlboro-weeded wood stages!) inspired rapture, awe, and the levitation that happened when peak emotion meets peak grindage in front of amps spitting out something that sounded like the mad marriage of Bolan swagger and Dischord tension_ all fronted by a genuinely incomparable woman who held her heart in her mouth and shared it, in all its celebration and fear, without hesitation. The Gits were an angry, inflamed slinky fully in tune with and tuned by the Bessie Patti Smith of her time, truly the only singer who could summon Joplin, Poly Styrene, Sam Cooke, Iggy Pop and Ian MacKaye all in the same goddamn song. In 1993, less than four weeks after accepting an offer from Atlantic Records, Mia died. I leave it at that, because this is not about death; it's about an extraordinary life. I do not say, "You should have been there," I say, "We are lucky so many of us were, and I am so glad we have this extraordinary evidence of the power and gifts of Mia and the Gits that you now can hold in your hands." And I note that Frenching the Bully, this extraordinary testament to the soul, shock, fury and feeling of the Gits, has been long out of print on vinyl and CD, and this new edition - remastered by legendary Seattle engineer Jack Endino - joyfully rectifies that. -Tim Sommer

At the start of this summer, following a three-year hiatus for Daphni (punctuated only by his first ever collaborative Daphni track ‘Unidos’ alongside Sofia Kourtesis), he dropped ‘Sad Piano House’. The track represented something of a continuation in the Daphni catalogue, its roots growing from Cherry’s ‘Cloudy’ and its subsequent Kelbin remix, something in that song’s makeup having a profound effect when played on dancefloors by Snaith and countless others. ‘Sad Piano House’ deployed more intangibly irresistible bendy piano to equally satisfying effect and continues to achieve similarly rhapsodic dancefloor saturation.
Though a sizeable gap for Daphni releases, between Cherry and Butterfly however of course sits Honey, the latest Caribou album and one that saw the more instantaneous and dancefloor leaning traits of Daphni peaking through the cracks more than ever before. This blurring of the lines leads to an intriguing collaboration in Butterfly’s lead single ‘Waiting So Long (feat. Caribou)’. An unlikely duo - in that both artists are the same man, Dan Snaith - ‘Waiting So Long’ is not so much an identity crisis, ego trip, or the result of a chemical spill in the Snaith laboratory. It’s simply a track that Snaith felt for the first time belongs to both aliases, and might appeal to fans of both. He has never sung on a Daphni track before, and did not set out with the intention to do so this time, and yet this strange billing was born.

Daphni music has always been Snaith’s way of hitting directly to the core of the dancefloors he spends so much of his time playing to, and those dancefloors have been steadily expanding as his name grows, with the music following suit. This album however also draws from further back with a definite kinship to the very first Daphni album, the invigorating bag of ideas that was Jiaolong.
Butterfly is a showcase of the wonderful variety and surprising twists and turns that made that album such an exciting new prospect and that still to this day make Snaith such an intriguing DJ. There are more heavy hitters here, tracks that fill those dancefloors better than anyone, like ‘Clap Your Hands’ which picks up the energy of ‘Sad Piano House’ and flips it, exposing the gritty and intoxicating underbelly of Snaith’s hitmaking side, while retaining the playful urgency that runs through all of his work of late. Meanwhile ‘Hang’’s comic-strip horns are unpinned by gleeful force, unrelenting and thrillingly unshakeable. Elsewhere though comes a clutch of other tunes that might creep out somewhere more off the beaten path, a path Snaith has never stopped seeking in amongst his larger billings. ‘Lucky’ is squirmy and elusively intoxicating, ‘Invention’ skitters down meandering, inviting corridors, ‘Talk To Me’ grumbles and broods in the murk, and ‘Miles Smiles’ could roll on endlessly, so confident in its groove. There are no obvious peaks in these tracks or unifying moments, in fact many of them really have no business being on the dancefloor at all, and yet in the right setting, they could be the most fun to be had all night.

One such club is a good microcosm for the ethos of Butterfly as a whole. “Around the time I was finishing up this album I played a long set in a club called Open Ground in Wuppertal, Germany.” Snaith recalls, “It’s kind of, in one sense, the platonic ideal of the kind of club I’d want to play in. Every single decision has been taken, at great expense, with the aim of making the perfect sounding medium sized club room. But on top of it being the perfect acoustic environment it also is run by an amazing collection of people in a way that gives it a sense of community that dance music at its best provides. It is an absolute pleasure to play in that room to a crowd of people who come from all over. Playing in there you feel like you can play anything, and I played works in progress of pretty much every track on this album in my set there. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing a short set at a festival or in a more raw warehouse kind of club where you bang it out and only really functional music works but on record I guess the point of these Daphni records is to keep in mind a more expansive idea of dance music where the parameters are broad and the church is broad. I think that actually, putting really functional stuff next to weirder tracks (both on an album and in a dj set) might be the thing that’s still most interesting to me.”
This is the feeling that’s most palpable on Butterfly, and in every single time you see Snaith DJ. Right from the inception of the Daphni alias - and even before that – the thrill of trying stuff out, pushing at the boundaries has always been there and on Butterfly is present in all its twists and turns. It leaps all over the place and yet it hangs together, never feeling like a grab bag of dancefloor utilities but rather a distillation of all the strings to Snaith’s bow, exhilaratingly human and unified by one singular concept – simple and joyful exploration.

On her fourth full-length album as Shedir, Sardinian sound artist Martina Betti offers a profound meditation on what it means to be human on the threshold of uncertainty.

We Are All Strangers is a series of ambient tapes-tries shaped by duality and introspection, where sound becomes a space to explore the tension between identity and ambiguity, presence and disappearance, connection and solitude. Inspired by the idea that we are all strangers, however, first and foremost to ourselves, Betti crafts seven fluid, slow-burn compositions that inhabit a sociological liminal zone—what she comments as an “inner elsewhere.”

These aren’t songs in the traditional sense, but evolving sonic environments that feel like emotional states made audible. Environmental textures, submerged electronics, and deep low-end pulses coalesce into a dreamlike architecture of sound: immersive, fragile, and quietly transformative.

Rather than offering answers or closure, the album invites us to live in radical openness—to stop trying to define everything we see and feel, and instead bathe in what remains unnamed. In this sense, We Are All Strangers is an invitation: to sit with uncertainty, to embrace the unfinished, and to find resonance even in our collective disconnection.

For listeners drawn to the introspective frequencies of Rafael Anton Irisarri, Félicia Atkinson, or Lawrence English, Betti’s music offers a similarly haunting and immersive experience—one where strangeness is not a flaw, but a starting point. In her hands, ambient music becomes a kind of reflective shelter: a place to brush against each other in the dark and begin to learn, as she puts it, “the difficult art of closeness.”

Italian producer, musician, DJ, and groove architect Sam Ruffillo drops his long-awaited debut album Tipo Così on Toy Tonics – a sun-drenched, genre-blurring statement that blends classic house with Mediterranean flair, romantic funk, and tongue-in-cheek Italo vibes. Over 11 expertly crafted tracks, Ruffillo delivers a dancefloor-ready, emotionally rich LP that connects deep musicality with irresistible rhythm and light-hearted elegance.

After three acclaimed EPs and collaborations with revered artists such as Barbara Boeing, Kapote, and Fimiani, Ruffillo has firmly cemented himself as a core artist on the Berlin-based label. Known for his unmistakable signature sound — a warm mix of vintage disco, 90s house, and Italian vocals — Sam’s music has garnered widespread DJ support from tastemakers like Gerd Janson, Palms Trax, Seth Troxler, and DJ Tennis, while becoming a staple on Italian airwaves. His infectious summer anthems like Danza Organica and Perfetta Così have soundtracked countless club nights and festivals, creating a loyal following that eagerly awaited this full-length debut.

Tipo Così is the natural culmination of a musical journey that’s both playful and profound — a travel diary written in grooves, synth stabs, and melodies that feel like postcards from a parallel Mediterranean universe. The album expands and deepens Ruffillo’s world into a fully immersive experience: lush emotional chords meet tight syncopated grooves, vintage synth textures collide with irresistibly catchy pop refrains, and the boundary between sincerity and playful irony is exquisitely blurred.

Entirely written, produced, and recorded in Italy, in his beloved hometown of Bologna, the album finds Ruffillo at the helm on keys, drum machines, and production, supported by a talented cast of musicians contributing live bass, guitar, and other organic elements — further enriching his trademark fusion of electronic grooves and natural instrumentation. There’s a tactile warmth in these tracks, a hands-on feel that adds soul and depth to every beat.

This album also marks Ruffillo’s heartfelt return to singing in Italian, with standout tracks like House Tipo Così, Mi Fa Volare, Ancora, and Dentro Di Me, where romantic naïveté meets pulsing club energy in a way that feels both timeless and refreshingly new. The vocal performances add an intimate, human touch to the music, reinforcing the personal stories woven into each song. There’s poetry in the casual, a bittersweet elegance in the way the lyrics float over groove-heavy production.

Having toured extensively across Europe, Australia, Indonesia, New Zealand, and Mexico — with sets at iconic venues like Panorama Bar and festivals such as Sónar Barcelona — Ruffillo has fine-tuned much of this album in front of live audiences. The real-world testing ground infused the record with a dynamic energy and immediacy that only comes from genuine crowd interaction. These songs weren’t just made in the studio — they were lived on dancefloors around the world.

Tipo Così is not just a collection of tracks. It’s a philosophy — playful, stylish and unmistakably personal. A modern club album bursting with heartfelt emotion and sophistication. Music for dancers with taste; for lovers of beauty, rhythm, and the little imperfections that make things feel real.

But what exactly is Tipo Così? More than just a phrase, it’s a way of being. It’s about embracing elegance without effort, mixing irony with sincerity, and letting nostalgia slip into the room without taking over the party. It’s Sam Ruffillo’s signature language: relaxed, confident, meticulous yet never rigid — where a chord progression can say as much as a lyric, and every beat carries intention.

The album’s visual identity complements this vision perfectly. The artwork and promotional materials lovingly reference Italian design from the ’80s and ’90s, combining bold graphic elements with playful pop culture nods. This aesthetic mirrors Ruffillo’s music — a fusion of vintage warmth and contemporary freshness, delivered with authenticity and charm.

Sam Ruffillo belongs to a new generation of European artists who are reshaping electronic music by blending past and present, analog and digital, groove and emotion — without nostalgia or pose. His artistic universe is coherent, vibrant, and alive; a rich tapestry of sound, images, and stories that coexist with lightness, precision, and a distinctive voice.

Reflecting on his artistic journey, Sam describes music as a vital, deeply human impulse — a tribal connection to rhythm and body that has driven him since he was a teenager. His creative process balances meticulous planning with room for spontaneity, usually sparked by clear melodic ideas that evolve naturally. Collaborations with close friends, especially vocalists like Ninfa, add warmth and authenticity, exemplified in tracks like “House Tipo Così.” For Sam, music is honest self-expression — crafted for listeners who crave memorable melodies and rhythms imbued with genuine feeling.

While technical perfection is tempting, Sam prioritizes emotion, knowing that what truly resonates is the soul behind the sounds. His long-standing partnership with Toy Tonics has been key in nurturing his vision, offering a blend of creative freedom and professional support. Looking ahead, Sam Ruffillo is excited to broaden his live performances, and release new projects that continue to blend electronic grooves with organic, heartfelt sounds — maintaining the delicate balance between playful irony and sincere emotion that defines Tipo Così.




Kurzversion:
Italian DJ, producer and musician Sam Ruffillo drops his debut album Tipo Così on Toy Tonics - a sunny blend of house, funk, Italo and pop, full of groove and emotion. Written and recorded in Bologna with live instruments and Italian vocals, it’s a playful, elegant journey shaped on dancefloors worldwide. A stylish, sincere club album where nostalgia, irony and rhythm meet in perfect harmony.

- Mi Fa Volare
Road-tested across continents and now finally released, “Mi Fa Volare” channels 90s uplifting euphoria with big breakbeats, lush chords, and Italian vocals built to stick. Somewhere between balearic bliss and piano house nostalgia, it’s a feel-good club weapon made for peak-time moments - already sung back by crowds after just one listen.


- Ancora
“Ancora” is a vibrant hi-NRG track inspired by 80s Italo disco, sung entirely in Italian. It blends driving rhythms with dreamy melodies, capturing the radiant spirit of the decade. This fresh yet nostalgic song delivers euphoric vibes and timeless energy, making it a perfect fit for both dancefloors and reflective listening moments worldwide.


- Dentro Di Me
“Dentro Di Me” channels ‘90s sensuality through a fast-paced, UK house-inspired lens. Entirely in Italian, it’s a bold and contemporary dance track where hypnotic vocals meet high-energy grooves. Blending nostalgic textures with forward-thinking production, the result is a seductive and euphoric trip - equal parts emotional and club-ready.


- Amigo
“Amigo” blends Latin groove, acoustic guitar-driven rhythm, and Mediterranean flair into a warm, magnetic, cross-cultural dance anthem. Sung in Spanish and Italian, it celebrates connection, inclusivity, and the joy of moving together - whether stranger or friend. With its unstoppable rhythm and vibrant energy, it’s a feel-good track with a unifying spirit.


- Ma Sei Fuori
“Ma Sei Fuori” is a tongue-in-cheek dancefloor bomb blending raw house energy with catchy vocal phrases and a nod to classic French touch. Driven by hypnotic vocal lines and a playful attitude, it doesn’t take itself too seriously - while still proving serious club impact. Built for late-night moments, it’s bold, bouncy, and impossible to ignore.

"I stood on top of the mountain and looked out over the landscape. It was so beautiful that my chest hurt. The light vibrated, time stood still, and the contours dissolved for a moment. Everything had changed; I felt it then. I took their little hands so as not to lose contact with the ground. Then we ran down the mountain, scraping our knees. Still, we didn't make it. You had already put away all the nautical charts, loosened the moorings and steered out among the skerries. Mum stood waving from the jetty. You were alone, you wanted it that way. It was to be just you in the boat this time. I called out to you. I think you heard me and felt less lonely. We couldn't carry each other anymore, no matter how hard we tried. We washed our wounds on the shore and scattered tears and rose petals in the bay. The children laughed and searched for treasures under water. We called to them that it was time to come up. They were cold, and we hugged them to warmth. One ran ahead, the other up on our shoulders. Up the mountain, our mountain."

In 2020 Anna Högberg put her widely celebrated band Anna Högberg Attack on hold, retraining as a nurse whilst continuing a solo practice and playing in other groups. With Ensamseglaren she makes a spectacular return with her own ensemble — this time a double sextet — performing an album length suite of new music written in dedication to her late father — the titular ‘ensamseglaren’ pictured on the LP cover as a young boy.

 (ensam in Swedish can mean both alone and lonely, seglaren = the sailor).

Shot through with renewed energy and a brutally affective emotional punch, Högberg’s formal experimentation opens up vibrant possibilities for the assembled musicians to let loose with some of their wildest and most ecstatic playing on record.

Högberg’s contention with grief leans into collective joy as method of mourning — the big band as extended family; where bonds are made through a shared experience of being together. Where everyone gets to be themselves without expectations of who they should be or what they can do. It’s a radical commitment to care — of her self and others — that animates and unifies this suite of music’s radical dynamics and variations in colour: from whisper-quiet textural intensity to harrowing distortion and double drum chaos; raucous and solemn song.

"Throughout history, humans have had different images of the transition between life and death. Imagine standing on the seashore on a summer evening and seeing a beautiful vessel being prepared for departure. The sails are hoisted. The evening breeze comes, the sails fill and the boat glides out onto the open sea. You follow it with your eyes as it heads towards the sunset. It gets smaller and smaller, until it finally disappears as a tiny dot on the horizon. Then you hear someone next to you say, ‘Now they have left us.’ Left us for what? The fact that they got smaller and smaller and finally disappeared is only how we see it. In reality, they are just as big and beautiful as when they were here, lying on the beach by our side. Just as you hear that voice say ‘Now they have left us’, there may be someone on another beach who sees them appear on the horizon, someone waiting to welcome them when they reaches their new port."

Human Leather have always been a ferocious live act, unbelievably loud for a 2 piece. Their gigs are often an overwhelming wall of sludge, howls and amphetamine-addled drums, with spectators flying joyously around the pit. Previous recordings did full justice to the impact of the live show; however, the second helping is something else. On Here Comes the Mind, There Goes the Body the sludge is still present, rising, and lapping at your ankles, but there's a new clarity showing off exactly how f*cking good those riffs are. There are ear worm riffs for days, shout along vocals that roar, shriek and reform into a Greek chorus, drums that thump you repeatedly in the chest and then the whole thing vanishes in just under 30 minutes, leaving you bruised, deafened and with Some Questions about your life. Squint your ears a bit and you'll hear the influences of bands like Karp, Torche and Big Business but they're thrown into a much crustier stew. The lyrics span a variety of political issues, not limited to the landed gentry, global warming and consumerist harbingers of doom. Importantly the songs are also not afraid to discuss class issues (unlike many political bands who you suspect have a much sturdier security net). While this could easily feel preachy, every line is delivered with the knowing wink of the underdog and good humour (I am going to smile every time I think of "clod damn" or "QVC Hands" staring up at me from the lyric sheet), and the vibes are as they've always been in difficult times - "we know we're fucked, tonight we mosh, tomorrow we march". And what is the point of a revolution you can't dance to? Speaking of dancing, the final track features an honest-to-god dance beat, acid squelches and disembodied vocal samples, pointing to an alternative universe in which Human Leather are a heavy electroclash band. Here comes the record of the year, bring what is left of your eardrums. You didn't need that body anyway

It"s been six years since LA DISPUTE released their last album, Panorama. Since then, the Michigan post-hardcore band-made up of Jordan Dreyer on vocals, Brad Vander Lugt on drums, Chad Morgan-Sterenberg and Corey Stroffolino on guitar, and Adam Vass on bass-dealt with the stagnance of the pandemic, celebrated the ten-year anniversaries of Wildlife and Rooms Of The House, and began working on NO ONE WAS DRIVING THE CAR. The fifth studio LP is the first entirely produced by the group, and it came together in Grand Rapids and Detroit, the United Kingdom, Australia, and the Philippines: "I think the change in environment was really helpful to breathing new life into the process each time we came back to it," Dreyer says. Partly inspired by the 2017 psychological thriller First Reformed, NO ONE WAS DRIVING THE CAR reckons with malaise in the shadow of the looming apocalypse, which has noticeably been worsened by the advancement of tech. The title comes from a quote from a police officer Dreyer read in a news article about a lethal self-driving Tesla crash, an absurd event which raises questions about the amount of control we have in our own lives. In fourteen dynamic tracks, the band grapples with the existential topic and the human need to find comfort and a sense of security in an existence where we"re often thrust into chaos without permission.