quête:the real

Machine Girl's debut album celebrates its tenth anniversary with a long-awaited reissue, which marks the first time it arrives on CD as well as vinyl. Originally released in 2014, WLFGRL fused footwork, jungle, digital hardcore and rave into a chaotic, euphoric sound that helped launch a global underground movement. The album's packed with raw intensity and plenty of breakcore influence so it introduced a new generation to extreme electronic music and to celebrate its return, a one-off livestreamed show at Brooklyn's Trans-Pecos accompanied the release. As we are reminded listening back now, WLFGRL is a real high-water mark in outsider music culture.

Two years ago he released ‘The Peak Season EP’ under his alias Flo 87, hitting all the right buttons, and now his back with ‘The Full Moon EP’ under his own name Jan Rezelman. The EP consist of three brand new tracks, all recorded in 2024. ‘Nobody’ is basically me cutting up a beautiful soul song on my MPC, and re-play it and having fun with it. I’ve put some banging drums under it, Maspaventi did the mastering, so you know it’s ready for club use! ‘Full Moon’ is an up-tempo track where I’m filtering a guitar loop and having fun with it. Anton Pieete mixed it and Sam Irl mastered it to tape, so you already know it’ sounds super phat! ‘Soul Music’ has a more experimental vibe to it, where I was messing with my new synthesizer and came up with this infectious bass-loop and those heavy hitting 808 drums. I added some strings and drum-breaks and kept the track really minimalistic. ‘The Full Moon EP’ is pressed to a limited amount so be quick! The vinyl will be in stores around spring ‘25.

Under the radar release on the Muller offshoot Tanjobi! One of Ulrich Schnauss' most early works. We received some backstock from a bankrupt Japanese distributor who kept these records since the 90ies! For the open minded DJ, this can be played at various tempos and speeds. Handy and playful but classy tracks that suit multiple bags.

The second release from PAN Records comes from Magnus Asberg, aka C-Soul. The French-based DJ and Producer fron Sweden, known for his innovative sound, has previously released music on labels such as Robsoul, Evasive, DiY Disc, Real Deal Records, Romana records and On the House Records.

This EP features four original tracks produced by Magnus Asberg in the early 2000s. It’s remarkable how music created years ago still sounds fresh and innovative today. Characterized by deep basslines, house grooves, hypnotic yet simple vocals, and rich melodies, the EP feels both new and timeless. It carries the charm of old-school music while embracing the essence of underground house from an era when music was created with a purity that remains at the heart of PAN Records' philosophy.

Prepare to transcend the boundaries of sonic perception and embark on an interstellar voyage unlike any other. DHMZ001 emerges from the depths of the cosmos/the cosmox, offering a tantalising glimpse into a future where music, humanity and technology converge in perfect harmony. Behold, the first release from Dehumanize -- a sonic odyssey so profound, it defies conventional description. With each pulsating beat and ethereal melody, listeners are transported to realms beyond imagination, where the fabric of reality itself seems to ripple and shift in time with the music.

Simon Herody put together a live solo performance sequencing electronic devices on stage for him to jam over with acoustic instruments. He played a lot in hotels and lobbies. The music had to be present but not too intrusive. Subtle electronics to guide his saxophone and flute playing. The setup proved successful and inspired him to compose the works that would become 'Hard Lounge'.

'At the same time, I was working at a bar/record store in Neukölln called Motif. Everything changed when I discovered the album "Heisei No Oto - Japanese Left-field Pop From The CD Age." I remember this guy, Jamie, who would sometimes bring new releases to the shop. This album really changed things for me; I was constantly playing it and it inspired the creation of these works tremendously.

The composition process for "Hard Lounge" was pretty unclear. I never really made conscious choices; I wanted to escape the conflicts that come with picking the right chords. I aimed to create music that transports your imagination to a sort of retro 80s jazz lounge, where people feel comfortable and at ease just sitting and listening. I wanted to act like a music designer, giving people a chance to listen without demanding too much of their attention.'

LIMITED VINYL COMES IN CARDBOARD SLEEVE WITH BOOKLET!
OSTRANENIE is a collection of digitally manipulated, impressionistic piano miniatures — each named after blockbuster films and TV series. Improvised late at night as a reaction against passive media consumption, these pieces function as both homage and critique, navigating the space between classical impressionism and contemporary digital manipulation. They don’t just deconstruct traditional piano expression; they interrogate the emotional stakes of sound in an era where immersion culture flattens meaning and algorithmic logic erodes agency.

The album’s title references the Russian formalist Viktor Shklovsky’s concept of “ostranenie” (ɐstrɐˈnjenjɪj, estrangement/defamiliarization), a term he introduced in the early 1920s to describe art’s role in resisting the indifference of habitual perception.

“And so, held accountable for nothing, life fades into nothingness. Automation eats away at things, at clothes, at furniture, at our wives, and at our fear of war.”
—Viktor Shklovsky, Theory of Prose (1925)

Shklovsky saw art as a way to break through the anesthetizing effects of routine, stripping away the layers of habit that dull our senses. By making the familiar strange, art reclaims perception from the mechanical and the automatic. His argument wasn’t just a theoretical exercise — it was a response to a world rapidly consumed by industrialization, war machines, and the alienation of a technologically dominated modern life. In this context, he positioned artistic technique as something autonomous, distinct from mere social criticism or psychological reflection. Art seeks to remove “...the crust that the world of things deposits on our senses, with routine’s unending murder of the real.” Ben Ehrenreich on Serena Vitale’s Making Strange (The Nation, 2013)

This tension—between revolutionary/artistic and industrial technologies—defined the 20th century, and it continues to resonate today. The mechanization and automation that fueled the First World War’s devastation, alongside the social and economic turbulence of the 1920s, became central to the era’s self-conception. But just as technology was a source of alienation, it was also positioned as an agent of radical change. As the shock of modernity disrupted the human condition, it also became the driving force behind an ideological utopia — one that ultimately deformed into political totalitarianism — a paradox that remains unresolved.

OSTRANENIE plays within this contradiction. The music shifts seamlessly between an uncanny black MIDI dismantling of traditional piano virtuosity and moments of raw, fragile intimacy. The result is a work that resists automatic anonymity while questioning what it means to create in an era where the technological mediation of sound — and experience itself — is unavoidable: Art in the age of its technological constructedness.

Tresor resident DJs LNS and DJ Sotofett have for some years been developing a style at the club‘s Globus floor, and their new EP is a die cut of exactly the classic techno, electro, and house music they play.
Here are no productions drenched in reverb, no hi-fi obsessions or generic algorithmic patterns – this is Globus Trax, the duo's third release on Tresor Records, four tracks consisting of real TR-909 workouts, rude and driving basslines, live runs through the mixing desk, and a Blake Baxter cover version with LNS on vocals.
LNS & DJ Sotofett programmed an EP to perfectly fit their warehouse style of DJing, bringing out colour and variation in a spectrum more similar to a club compilation than a dogmatically reduced concept. With a single repeated vocal sample, Globus Trax opens bombastically with ClickClickClick, a dub -infused UK garage house track anyone in the world can easily describe in the course of a second.
Following this comes Gearbox which is a hefty slab of big room electro featuring a centerpiece arpeggio and the warmest harmonic pads on the EP's four tracks, which not-so-subtly makes reference to the pioneering band that shares a name with Globus and Tresor's home, the Kraftwerk.
The house vibe returns on Destination 909, which is nothing but a manifesto for the TR-909, where the beloved drum machine's jacking beats meet galactic strings and synthetic bass, only to be ripped apart in a slamming break that sees the machine take centre stage as it cuts in-and-out of the mix, again a clear nod to the duo’s sets in the club.
LNS steps up on vocal duties and DJ Sotofett keeps the 909 running for their final cut, taking a deeper dive into the realms of classic techno and paying tribute to “The Prince of Techno” Blake Baxter by covering his Reach Out originally released on Tresor Records in 1995.
The 12” was cut by DJ Sotofett himself at Manmade Mastering, where he resurrects the lost art of late-90s loud cuts with sonic presence and punch, optimal for the club-focused 12” format, and is the first to come in the new Tresor Sleeve, boasting an embossed logo on either side.

2024"s retrospective box We Have Dozens of Titles brought the revelatory 1993-"98 output of Gastr del Sol back into the world of physical objects, following a decade in which most of their music was mostly available online. The ruckus that the box generated in the so-called real world was intense enough to warrant some more fun excursions; thus, we begin our vinyl reissue series of the Gastrlog at the end of the line, with their "art-pop masterpiece" somebody"s words, not ours - but we"ll take "em): Camoufleur. Gastr del Sol released Camoufleur in February of 1998. It was a ringing down of the curtain on an extraordinary five years of music making (and unmaking) with one of the best albums of that era - or any other. Once out in the world, Camoufleur went over like gangbusters. Listening in today, it still does - time has only burnished its unique superpowers. Upon release, of course, and with the same sense of enigma in which they"d issued their music, Gastr del Sol abruptly vanished, leaving all that stuff to time. And by golly, in time we"ve found it again, and huzzah almighty, have recommitted it to ol" reliable, the singular magic of the vinyl platter, for the enjoyment and edification of a new nation.

Hikari to Kage is the next chapter in the story of Wabi Sabi Audio Imprint, diving into the experimental and ambient realms of electronic music.

This beautiful album comes from the hands of Sarah Wreath, a German artist whose unique approach to sound exploration captured our hearts the moment we saw her live at Monument.

The album It's a narrative, an introspective journey that doesn't tell you what to feel but gently guides you toward your own perspective.

Three incredible remixes by DJ Hi-C, Pianeti Sintetici, and Jorge Fons bring their own vision of Sarah's music, each artist weaving their own story within Sarah's framework. Like Yin and Yang, light and shadow exist in balance, defining the beauty of the other-this is Hikari to Kage.

As most of us now live in a world saturated with information, this album feels like a reflection of how the modern world might sound if it were to process its own chaos through a unified scream. Hailing from the highlands of Bandung, West Java, a city where tradition and modernization intertwine in the rhythm of daily life, Xin Lie unpretentiously translates this cultural fusion into a sonically rich and rhythmically bold debut LP.

The artist’s roots in the hardcore and punk scenes reverberate throughout the album, though they’ve been reshaped and refined for the club. There’s an undeniable pleasure in experiencing the chaos Xin Lie channels—irregular beats, dynamic frequencies, and disjointed grooves collide and expand, each track laced with a sense of unpredictable energy. Yet even in its most chaotic moments, the music feels deliberate, its edges softened by a sense of compositional care.

The album reveals a strange duality: tracks that seem to beckon you to the dance floor but never quite let you settle there. Frequencies flicker and fluctuate in patterns that feel just slightly off-grid, as though resisting traditional structures. Yet, amidst the digital textures, Xin Lie weaves in organic sounds—snippets of native conversations or environmental noise—creating layers that feel both intimate and expansive.It’s fair to say this album extends far beyond the boundaries of today’s club music.

Picture this: you’re moving through your daily routines—mundane, repetitive—and suddenly, the music shifts your perspective. It reframes the ordinary as something surreal, as though it’s deconstructing itself in real-time, breaking into fragments or conjuring entirely new forms. Perhaps it’s best imagined as the soundtrack to a multi-sensory art installation or a performance staged not in a gallery but in an unassuming house down your street. Who’s to say where it might take you?

2025 Repress!

OFF / GRID makes a captivating debut on Life In Patterns with his 'Sonic Spectrum' EP. Previously recognized as an underground gem in the techno scene due to his acclaimed, self-released EP, 'Time To Shine,' the Hamburg-based producer has garnered significant attention in 2023 with EP releases on labels like Planet Rhythm, Uncage, DifferentSound, and Entourage Concept.

On LIP009, he presents four meticulously crafted vinyl tracks and a digital bonus track, each a testament to his remarkable talent for creating hard-hitting, euphoric DJ tools. His music is distinguished by cutting stabs, hypnotic acid lines, and a distinct dub influence, all seamlessly woven together with powerful drum sounds.

*all original recordings from mid 90s Estonian released cassettes. Fascinating interpretations of the UK breakbeat and Jungle sounds recorded when the world felt like a much bigger place.

Since hearing the first breakbeats via the Finnish radio nightly shows introducing the burgeoning UK scene, Virko Veskoja, later head figure of Lu:k, was completely swept away by this new technological language that sounded like machines trying to initiate contact with people. The fluttering rhythm patterns, strings and vocal lines haunting the pathways of the infinite network. Like hip hop taken over by Skynet.

Reimagining it all in mid-90’s Estonia, a fresh and dirt-poor republic newly welcomed to the family of sovereign states on the outskirts of Eastern Europe, was challenging, to say the least. Finally, with the help of entry level music programs, custom-made soundcards and self-built computers by the other Lu:k-head Tõnis Valk, Lu:k took the first tentative steps in the history of Estonian jungle.

Eight Lu:k cuts have been compiled into a handy selection, a true sign of the times when uncertainty came with certain hope and optimism – new territories to chart, new frontiers to conquer. A time of innocence captured so sublimely in Lu:k’s music.

The compilation starts with menacing orchestration that sounds like the birth of a civilization, like in „2001: A Space Odyssey“, or the arrival of Godzilla, only to give way to sweeeet strings and the inimitable Minnie Riperton in “Lovin U”, combining all the essential elements of Lu:k in a track that has remained uncorroded by time since its inception in 1994.

The following “Demo 3” is its antithesis – fast and nervous, a harbinger of the darker days of neurofunk and techstep ahead. More in line with the social realities of the time, when something (or someone) could materialise out of thin air and attack you just as violently as those beats here.

“La:v” was Lu:k’s signature track throughout their brief career that went on only for a few years, 1994-1997. Lifted to heaven’s by Petula Clarks’s wonderful vocals, it perfectly captures the pure essence of creation. “I made it in my bedroom. Something like that just came out. Sorry”, says Virko apologetically.

From the themes of love we are led towards darker scenarios again with “Drunk-Drive”, a more vengeful cut reminiscent of early Ram Records’ nocturnal dangers, skylines shaped by basslines. Previously only available on the uber-rare “Raadiomaja valvelauas” CD compilation from 2005.

“In the Limelight” is lifted from their second album “Dreams in Drums” from 1996 (only released on cassette), and if it’s meant to address their new-found underground celebrity status in Estonia, there is surprisingly little elation here – the track rather consists of introspective strings and beats that sound almost melancholic.

Out of the remaining three tracks, “Proov2mix” and “Kadunud leitud” are the result of a treasure hunt amongst the old, obsolete harddrives – little nuggets that were condemned to obscurity until now. Between them, another vocal-led cut “010”, a non-album track only featured on two comps until now, is a strong reminder of Lu:k’s prodigious ability to handle vocal lines and morph them together with their own weaving synthetic melodies, strong pads and commanding beats.

Lu:k’s music has been largely unavailable for the better part of this century, with original tapes and CD’s changing hands for a small fortune. This vinyl release couldn’t come at a better time, bringing a seminal chapter of Estonian dance music’s mythical history to light again, both for the old-school acolytes and new converts.

All music by Virko Veskoja

Gabriele Santucci presents Impulso Elettromagnetico. A 4-track EP on vinyl that will take you through time in a hypnotic tunnel with industrial nuances. Without a doubt, an essential vinyl for your suitcase, you will play it on loop all the time!

AN ATLAS OF LOSS

Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?

If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.

There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.

In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.

Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.

Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.

Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.

Alfons Pich, 2025

When you’re running a label, a demo occasionally comes across your desk that makes you reconsider everything you thought your label was all about. For Balmat, such was the case with this stunning album from Stephen Vitiello, Brendan Canty, and Hahn Rowe. It sounds like nothing we’ve released so far—and that very otherness opened up a whole new world of possibilities for us.

Fans of ambient, experimental electronic music, and sound art will be familiar with Vitiello, a New York native, long based in Virginia, who has collaborated with a cross-generational list of greats: Taylor Deupree, Steve Roden, Lawrence English, Tetsu Inoue, Nam June Paik, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Pauline Oliveros, and many more. On labels like 12k, Room40, and Sub Rosa, he has explored a wide range of minimalism, microsound, lowercase, ambient, improv, and other styles. But this album is something different. It may begin in ambient-adjacent territory, but it quickly veers off, and it just keeps zigzagging, taking on elements of krautrock, post-punk, dub, and the groove-heavy interplay of groups like Natural Information Society and 75 Dollar Bill.

This stylistic turn is thanks in large part to Vitiello’s choice of collaborators. “We’re coming from three different schools,” Vitiello says: “sound art, art rock, and punk rock.”

Active since the early 1980s, Rowe—a violinist, guitarist, and producer/engineer—has played with, or manned the boards for, a frankly jaw-dropping list of musicians: Herbie Hancock, Gil Scott-Heron, the Last Poets, Roy Ayers, John Zorn, Glenn Branca, Swans, Live Skull, Brian Eno, David Byrne, Anohni, R.E.M., Yoko Ono, and many more. But he might be most closely associated with Hugo Largo, a one-of-a-kind New York quartet—two basses, vocals, and Rowe’s violin—that in the late 1980s helped lay the groundwork for what would eventually become known as post-rock.

Canty, of course, is the legendary drummer of Fugazi, the visionary DC post-hardcore group, as well as Rites of Spring before them, and, currently, the Messthetics, a Dischord-signed instrumental trio with guitarist Anthony Pirog and Fugazi bassist Joe Lally.

Vitiello’s trio first collaborated on First, a 17-minute piece released on the Longform Editions label in 2023. Second picks up where the freeform drift of First left off, channeling the trio’s exploratory energies into more intentionally structured tracks and—in a real first for Balmat—some almost shockingly muscular grooves. “Sometimes my projects are more conceptually driven,” Vitiello says, “but I think this was more musically geared. I just wanted to open up the references and bring in an incredible drummer, bring in some melodies, and I’m sort of the center.” But his collaborators, he stresses, are “vastly creative in making anything I might suggest better.”

Like its predecessor, Second took shape in phases, shifting between improvisation and collage. Vitiello laid down the skeleton of the music at home, sketching out initial ideas on Rhodes keyboard and acoustic and electric guitar; he then fed the parts through samplers and his modular system, recording 10- or 20-minute jams. Once he had edited them into more structured forms, he hit the studio with Canty, who added not just drums but also bass and piano; finally, Vitiello took the results of those sessions to Rowe, who played violin, viola, electric bass, and 12-string acoustic and bowed electric guitar, and assisted in some of the final structuring and mixdown.

A few more surprises along the way: Reanimator’s Don Godwin, the studio engineer where Vitiello recorded with Canty, contributed what he calls “resonant dustpan”; and none other than Animal Collective’s Geologist, who just happened to be in the studio that day, sits in on hurdy gurdy on “Mrphgtrs1,” the album’s gorgeous, stunningly atmospheric drone closer. “I love these chance encounters,” Vitiello says. “Somebody I admire, a group I admire—that was an unexpected gift.”

An unexpected gift is a great way of describing Second as a whole: three veteran musicians venturing outside their usual zones and finding a new collaborative language together. The results can’t be neatly slotted into any given genre; they belong not to any given category, but to the spirit of conversation itself.

** Cassette release

""A Synonym for Repetition" weaves together a tapestry of parallels, all intricately linked to Japan. The project initiates with a collaboration with a Tokyo-based musician, which ultimately fails to materialise during Jason Kolar’s recent visit to the country.

From an original approach that has to mutate in its starting phase, the record was conceived from the beginning to embody a sincere homage to Ryuichi Sakamoto, also a Tokyo native. Shaping ideas within the context of a city with a vibrant soundscape, through an exploration where tradition and modernity intersect in an ongoing quest for correspondences.

Yet, the barriers of language and cultural disparity emerge, casting a veil over the perceived connections and rendering them more projection than reality. This dynamic delineates the space observed from an external perspective, perpetually distant from true understanding, framing it in the fields of imagination, both Japan and Sakamoto. Nonetheless, Kolar tries to pay an honest ode to the artist and its scenic background, with all the implications and contradictions of this kind of process, even with the risk of falling into clichés, pastiches, and Eurocentric bias.

Connecting it to ‘vertical listening’ rather than to an obvious tribute exercise, he has morphed his sound to a synthetic and midi approach, aiming to set an ironically fictitious stage, one that resembles something, but it’s not really it."