Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.
For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.
Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.
Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.
The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.
Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.
“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani
Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.
Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.
Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”
Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.
“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani
The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.
Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.
Buscar:tim le el
Leading voices in contemporary Organic House anchor LS001 V.A-Thunderlab Collective, the inaugural vinyl-only edition from Life Signal. This first chapter introduces Life Signal as a curated imprint dedicated to presenting standout works from modern electronic music-pieces selected for their lasting impact and now pressed exclusively for listeners who value both sound and physical format.
These tracks have earned significant attention within the digital space, and this release brings them to vinyl for the first time, giving collectors a chance to experience them in a new, tactile form.
A1-Volen Sentir & PROFF-"Luna Amazonia (PM Mix)"
The record opens with a signature blend of organic textures and melodic flow, shaping an atmosphere that sets the tone for the edition.
A2-Krasa Rosa-"
Kaftan"A refined balance of acoustic nuance and electronic drive, building toward a standout breakdown and a sharp, vocal-chopped lead.
B1-Jiminy Hop-"Cavalier (Extended)"
Marked by Jiminy Hop's characteristic phrasing and evolving percussive movement, this version extends the melodic narrative with precision.
B2-Audiense-"Winterfell (Extended)"
A steadily rising finale combining psychedelic touches and ethno-vocal textures, rounding out the collection with an expansive sense of lift.With LS001, the Life Signal vision arrives on vinyl: curated electronic works preserved for collectors who follow music not only by sound, but by legacy.
The Citadel Speaks marks the first recorded statement of ElektrAV as a curatorial imprint.
Rooted in Pamplona’s Citadel —and more specifically within the Arms Hall— this release brings together Alberta Balsam, Boris Divider, Bendiak, Komatssu and µ-Ziq, artists whose practices have resonated within the festival’s ecosystem through a shared sensitivity to space, experimentation and sound as cultural expression. Their contributions are not conceived as documentation of an event, but as part of an ongoing cultural dialogue.
The Citadel is not presented here as a venue, but as an active entity: a space that absorbs, transforms and emits sound. Each contribution responds to that condition, forming a collective statement shaped by place, time and intention.
This first volume initiates a living archive.
What follows is not a catalogue of releases, but a body of work.
‘In Virus Times’ is an acoustic instrumental piece by Lee Ranaldo.
Composed during the pandemic, ‘In Virus Times’ is released as a onesided LP with an etching on Side B. The cover is a beautiful photo by
Lee’s friend, the great Brazilian photographer Anna Paula Bogaciovas.
Originally released as one track as part of a collaboration with Lucien
Jean for Le Presses du Reel, the music was featured on a mini CD that
accompanied a book that featured two short stories.
‘In Virus Times’, released by Mute, sees the track transformed into 4
pieces and is available on transparent turquoise vinyl with digital
download and an exclusive poster, designed, signed and individually
numbered by Lee Ranaldo. The poster design is based on an electron
microscope photo of the COVID-19 molecule.
Lee has written some of his own ‘loner notes’ for the release:
“This recording began on an evening in September 2020, stuck at home
in lower Manhattan during the dark days of the Covid-19 pandemic as
we came out of a deadly summer. A heightened sense of anxiety
stemming from the then-upcoming US Presidential elections as well as
the virus seemed to pervade all aspects of life, for myself and everyone I
knew. Its minimal quality reflects the sense of ‘motionless time’ that
many of us felt. I set up some microphones in our darkened living room
(studios being closed due to Covid restrictions), coaxing out one simple,
repetitive phrase, and then another, sounding them out into the air. The
casual home ambience - a siren or truck rumbling down the street out
the window; someone talking around the table in another part of the loft;
water running - intrudes at points. I worked to develop a few simple
thematic elements, but mostly I wanted to hear the notes and chords
ringing out, hanging in the air for a long time on that evening when the
world seemed close to stopped on its axis.
“I’d been listening closely to Morton Feldman’s catalog throughout the
pandemic. His sparse, long-duration music could often be heard playing
on repeat as we spent endless days locked inside. His willingness to do
very little, with very simple elements, and to such profound effect, has
been inspirational. I found the vast open spaces in his works thrilling,
miraculous, and comforting in those empty times. Additionally, the Drop
D guitar tuning used here has prompted my own variations on Bach’s
works for solo cello, open strings droning against melodic lines, so
simple and perfect…” - Lee Ranaldo, New York City, August 2021
- A1: La Mosca
- A2: Desfile Na Praia
- A3: Funk Sin Cuenta
- A4: Al Son
- B1: Salir Del Agujero
- B2: Los Bsoaso De Paris
- B3: Quando Lembro
- B4: 6X8 En La Mañana
- B5: San Bon
ElCalefón
Salir Del Agujero
El Calefón's 1985 LP Salir Del Agujero is a rare bird.
Self-produced and privately released in Zurich, the albumdocuments one of the very few South American groups that were resident in Europe at the time, and certainly the only such band working in Switzerland. Co-founded by two Argentinians in Europe – the multi-instrumentalist, vocalist and composer Coqui Recaand the guitarist Pablo Miguez–the group consisted of Argentinian and Brazilian musicians, most of whom were present initially Europe as tourists, but had stayed on, without official sanction, as immigrants.Their music gathered its primary influences from the varied sounds of their home countries, fusing these elements drawn from the manifold indigenous styles of Argentina and Brazil with the international sounds of rock,jazz, pop and pan-Latin music.
Honed and polished by the steady gigging through which the group earned their living in Zurich, the music that appeared onSalir Del Agujero was sophisticated, original and filled with light. Resonating with a freshness undiminished in forty years, the album brims with possibility and hums with tropical warmth, bearing testament to the open-hearted musical freedoms of a mercurial musical era.
A year or two back, original Nottingham deep house don Gavin Belton (famed for being part of Smokescreen and Drop Music-adjacent duo The Littlemen) returned to the UK after living in New Zealand. One thing led to another and soon he was back in the studio alongside former creative partner Steve Lee for the first time in 15 years. Featuring heady spoken word vocals from Hector Moralez, the result is 'House For Change', a lightly electrofunk-fired slab of classic East Midlands deep house. Raising funds for homeless charity Help The Framework, this surprise EP also includes 2004 classic 'Tell Me' (a free party deep house classic) and two fresh reworks: a TB-303-bass-driven revision of 'House For Change' by their old pals Inland Knights, and a squelchy, spacey take on 'Tell Me' by Lee under his solo alias, Positive Divide.
- 01: Arp Amp Chasm
- 02: Drift Vector
- 03: Modloop 138 Fragment
- 04: Foldsp4
- 05: Osc Hop (Slow Collapse)
- 06: Tweak 3 Driftmass
- 07: Blurform Dust
- 08: Wogglebug Remembered
- 09: Trippy135 Phase 0
- 10: Nachtgrain
- 11: Chronoroute Fank
- 12: Freeqwarp 2025 Redux
- 13 30: 3 Template Refract
- 14: Dln - Soft Ruin
- 15: Cr78 Mesh
- 16: Volca Signal 06
- 17: Ctrssalms (Cold Render)
- 18: Oceans Past And Present
- 19: Jt33Unstable Core
- 20: Modern Birds (Origin Edit)
Contemplating the role of the album format in an attention-deficient society, Speedy J presents Walkman -- a constantly shifting, 90-minute soundtrack to a journey of your choice. Jochem Paap's first solo album in over 20 years is a freewheeling, 20-track testament to his decades-deep studio skill and sonic versatility, running from skewed rhythmic rabbit holes to exploratory tonal abandon. For Paap, the traditional idea of the album had become obscured by listening habits and the non-stop information barrage of our digital lives. Having moved on from his breakthrough years releasing LPs and touring off the back of them, he was more inspired to develop his many-sided STOOR project and feed into a bigger artistic body of work than the temporary shelf-life of a single release. As is natural for any artist, his perspective shifted over time and he found himself drawn back to the idea of an album, realising he connected best with longer releases while he was on a walk, out for a run or generally in transit one way or another. With an endearing call back to the humble Walkman, he selected an hour and a half of material created during studio sessions at the beginning of 2025, perfectly sized to fit on two 45-minute sides of a cassette tape. As has long been the case for his studio practice, there were no fixed intentions when sitting down in the STOOR lab to start making noise -- just a wealth of experience and an expansive set of tools to start exploring with. From hours of jams Paap pulled together standout moments and moulded them into a mixtape-like narrative ranging from two-minute beat nuggets to full-tilt techno workouts and immersive ambient drops. Every sound is intentional, but the overall delivery is instinctive and curious, showing multiple new dimensions to Paap's sound and offering unpredictability at every turn. 'Arp Amp Chasm' opens the album up in a thick blanket of humming, harmonic waves with an electric emotional charge, while 'Ctrssalms17 (Cold Render)' journeys through evocative blooms of melancholic, gritty pads and rugged, half-submerged tech funk. 'Modern Birds (Origin Edit)' reaches skywards with grand sweeps of dynamic, brilliantly rendered synthesis. From the dexterous drum science of 'Drift Vector' to 'Osc Hop (Slow Collapse)'s lurching, beatless swamp of synths, on Walkman even the briefest snapshots leave an impression that lasts beyond the quick-scan cycle of the modern music experience. With his return to the album format, Paap's message is clear --put your headphones on, get outside and lose yourself in the sound of an artist constantly committed to moving forwards.
Different strokes for different folks. The celebrative 11-track 'xoxo' compilation, originally pressed as a 3xLP, is now also available as three separate EPs. No pussyfootin' on EP 2. M.S.L.'s Hydrolic brings Canadian electro with a pinch of Dutch Westcoast salt. RAFF takes the wheel on Radiant and drifts between break-y, 4x4 and IDM. Percussion connaisseur Tala Drum Corps delivers a well-deserved breather on Gargoyle, with basslines that leap like frogs. As we lose track of time, GEN-Y's SkyStalker shows how a midnight-minded groove gets pulled along by lush progressions.
Portal Replica welcomes cult Australian duo, B(if)tek, onto the label with a first-time-on-vinyl release of their debut album ‘Sub-vocal Theme Park’ released in 1996 exclusively onto CD. The 2x12” release includes the original album, plus additional never-heard-before 'lost' tracks from the pair. The album has been mastered by Rashad Becker at Clunk Studios (DE) and pressed to 180g heavyweight vinyl.
Kate Crawford and Nicole Skelty’s pioneering electro-femme outfit ‘B(if)tek’ can be traced back to 1994 in Canberra, where lack of blueprint blossomed their playful and bizarre experimentations in techno — ‘feminism with a wink and a bleep’. Thirty years on, the uniqueness and ingenuity of B(if)tek’s deep analogue exploration endures.
“Monstrous clowns dressed as princes whose role is to laugh at themselves and entertain outlandish beings, suffocated by etiquette, conspiracy and lies, bound by confession and remorse … and beyond that, the auto-da-fe and silence.” – Ferdinand (Pierrot), from the film “Pierrot Le Fou” .
Photography by Kate Crawford.
Design by Jesse Sappell.
Mastered by Rashad Becker at Clunk Studios, DE.
Emerging from the sun-drenched haze of their previous releases, the Belgo-Italian duo descend into the shadows with Trabajando El Flex, their third record to date. This is their gloomiest strike yet, a mutant wave manifesto built on a raw DIY ethos. Imagine pulsing basslines and ghostly vocals soundtracking your deepest, most illicit desires. Channeling the spirit of a major influence which is Coil, this album could have been called "Music to Play in the Dark(rooms)." It's a lethal fusion where New Beat, EBM, Dub, Italo, and New Wave lock into a singular, hypnotic atmosphere. Their world is a wild ride from Bear-Santa Claus Fantasms to Burning Churches and Amphetamine rooms, reflected in both their playful - not-to-be-taken-seriously - lyrics and a genre-shattering sound. Their debut was a a lost reel; their second, a dream, Trabajando El Flex is the raw, slow-burning, and beautifully unclean night that consumes both. It's a flawless fit for the after-hours ruin of the Pinkman universe.
As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.
Rob Clouth returns to Mesh with Cicada, a follow-up to his EP earlier this year and a continuation of his ever-curious approach to the outer limits of electronic music.
An artist who has spent much of his career committed to a dialogue between scientific phenomena and music built for big soundsystems, Bichillo signalled a segue into a more free-running idea of creativity - one that didn’t pander to unrealistic expectations and, essentially, brought the fun back to Rob’s production process. A theme also explored in a link-up with long-time collaborator and label boss Max Cooper on their recent joint EP 8 Billion Realities, out now on Mesh.
Cicada, he continues to expand on this universe, prioritising experimentation over concept, and arriving at some of the funnest music he’s ever made.
Like a field of insects, ‘Cicada’ opens with cross-rhythmic layers of animated glitches, soon joined by huge bass swells that gradually build into a maximal tranced out build-up and a swarm of vocal chops. ‘Core’ builds a quietly dramatic symphony of machinist built sound - a soothing polyphony of computers singing. Leaning into an off-kilter 2-step, ‘Gummy Clusters’ swirls into a hazy blur of distorted voices and acoustic rhythms. Closing things off, ‘Grefuser’ puts pedal to the metal with a high BPM storm of pointillist drums and melancholic leads.
Cicada is music that twitches and mutates, but most importantly, breathes fun into the circuitry.
‘Cicada’ lands Friday 20th March via Mesh.
That’s a project led by a flamenco guitarist who turns out to be a talented lyricist and singer.
Billy Sharp received early support from Billie Eilish on SoundCloud and later from Nils Hoffman, who fell in love with his toplines. This first glimpse into his musical landscape reveals an intriguing personality, touching contradictions, but beyond that and more simply: a voice, a guitar, and mesmerizing melodies.
We're talking about music that moves, transcends, and resonates with the listener's emotions. All the tracks are elegantly carrying the project's message: introspective and passionately intense.
Billy Sharp unveils "Rose Tint," an EP with a strong identity, destined to be one of those timeless pieces. Billy worked meticulously on each of the 4 tracks composing this debut EP, resulting in an impressive outcome. The first notes of the opening track are sure to captivate anyone with their touching vocals and top lines. The EP builds in intensity with each performance, culminating in "2013," a danceable and nostalgic track.
- A1: Here I Am Baby (Come And Take Me)
- A2: Everything I Own
- A3: Green Grasshopper
- A4: Play Me
- A5: Children At Play
- B1: Sweet Bitter Love
- B2: Gypsy Man
- B3: There’s No Me Without You
- B4: The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
- B5: I Just Don’t Want To Be Lonely
- C1: Mark My Word
- C2: The First Cut Is The Deepest
- C3: Melody Life
- C4: Work And Slave
- C5: Working To The Top (My Ambition) (Part 1)
- C6: Don’t Let Me Down
- C7: Band Of Gold
- D1: Put A Little Love In Your Heart
- D2: I See You, My Love
- D3: It’s Too Late
- D4: Baby If You Don’t Love Me
- D5: Love Walked In
- D6: When Will I See You Again
- D7: Play Me (Part 2)
2025 Repress
140g vinyl, remastered, double LP with the original LP along with a second record of 14 rare tracks
Sweet And Nice is the vital debut album from Jamaica’s undisputed first lady of song Marica Griffiths. It’s reggae at its most soulful. Slinking through a tight ten tracks of R&B and pop-sourced material, it became an instant best seller. 45 years after its initial release the LP is available again on vinyl, now as a double LP, with an extra record collecting 14 rare tracks.
Sweet And Nice has appeared over the years with a revised running order and under different titles. But the original’s opening sequence of loping soul is legendary, even beyond reggae circles. These songs are now returned to how they were presented on that first Jamaican release, and under their intended album title. Be With doesn’t mess with magic.
Marcia’s version of “Here I Am (Come and Take Me)” has long been lusted after, played by genre-hopping selectors to snapping necks for decades now. It’s followed by the sophisticated, rollicking wah-wah funk of “Everything I Own” and the slice of smooth lovers soul par excellence that is “Green Grasshopper” and her ace, lilting Neil Diamond cover “Play Me”.
The thundering, humid funk of “Children At Play” “sounds uncannily like a precursor of Massive Attack”, as FACT Mag astutely noted when they put Sweet And Nice at number 16 in their list of the 100 best albums of the 1970s. Otherworldly, moody and essential.
Side two keeps the fire burning. “Sweet, Bitter Love” should leave you swooning, and is also one of the album’s alternate titles. Curtis Mayfield’s already-eternal “Gypsy Man” is up next, recast as proto-lovers rock.
“There’s No Me Without You” is elevated to canonical status by the majestic, forlorn horns of the Federal Soul Givers and Marcia’s heartbreaking delivery. And if this doesn’t get you then surely the next track will: arguably the definitive version of Ewan MacColl’s “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”. Yes, seriously.
“I Just Don’t Want To Be Lonely” re-takes its rightful place at the end of the LP’s second side… but we couldn’t leave it at that. So we added an entire second record of rare material recorded around the same time as Sweet And Nice, much of it unavailable since it was originally released. Some of these songs have only ever been found on now unattainable 7" singles and no, rarity doesn’t always correspond with quality, but in this case we’re talking about some seriously jaw-dropping music.
Amongst 14 extra tracks you’ll find the exquisite late-60s singles “Melody Life” and “Mark My Word” which, along with the sumptuous reading of “Band Of Gold”, are now £100 records, if you can find them! Just sayin’. There‘s also a fantastic version of “The First Cut Is the Deepest” and an alternate take of “Play Me” with producer Lloyd Charmers adding his own vocals.
Everything’s been remastered of course, including the original LP, so Sweet And Nice now sounds even sweeter, and even nicer.
- 1: Hard Way To Live
- 2: You Bring Me Joy
Pratt & Moody melden sich mit einer neuen 7"-Single auf Timmion Records zurück, auf der ,Hard Way To Live" und ,You Bring Me Joy" zu finden sind - zwei tiefgründige Soul-Stücke, die ihren Platz unter den wahren Pionieren des modernen Sweet-&-Beat-Soul-Revivals erneut untermauern. Geschrieben und aufgenommen zusammen mit Timmions bewährter Hausband Cold Diamond & Mink, setzt die Single eine Tradition fort, die schon immer die Grenze zwischen zeitgenössischem Songwriting und zeitloser Soul-Ästhetik verwischt hat. Die A-Seite, ,Hard Way To Live", zeigt Pratt & Moody ganz in ihrem Element der Beat-Balladen. Aufgebaut auf einem warmen, funkigen Fundament, schafft der Song ein Gleichgewicht zwischen emotionaler Tiefe und melodischer Leichtigkeit, während der Refrain in Crossover-Soul-Pop-Gefilde übergeht. Textlich setzt er sich mit den Narben des Lebens und der stillen Schwierigkeit auseinander, den Schmerz loszulassen, den sie verursachen - das Gefühl, weiterzulaufen, selbst wenn man das Letzte von dem, was man hatte, bereits aufgebraucht hat. Auf der B-Seite entfaltet sich ,You Bring Me Joy" wie eine langsam brennende David-Lynch-Szene; sein dramatischer Einlauf erinnert an Soundtrack-Soul, bevor er in einen von den Staple Singers der Stax-Ära inspirierten Refrain übergeht. Tremolo-getränkte Gitarrenlinien verweisen auf klassische Dark-Surf-Musik, während Emilia Siscos gospelartige Hintergrundstimme an Mavis Staples erinnert und den Track zu voller emotionaler Entfaltung bringt. Zusammen bieten diese beiden Songs einen lebendigen Vorgeschmack auf das kommende Album von Pratt & Moody - ein tieferes Eintauchen in gefühlvolles Storytelling, ihre bewährten Lowrider-Soul-Fähigkeiten und moderne Klarheit, das bald bei Timmion Records erscheinen wird.
On Lila, his debut LP, Moroccan artist Karim presents a series of undulating electronic rhythms laser-etched into tessellated form: drumless techno from the pre-Sahara, built for communal psychic expansion.
Drumless, yes, but not percussionless. There are shakers, castanets, stabs, plonks, thuds. There are insistent basslines propelling forward, pulsing with energy, rippling in time. There are tones interlocking, rolling, fluttering, pattering. Dancing within, around, between each other. Considered in terms of sheer geometry, Lila is a techno record, unmistakably. But it sounds quite unlike any other techno record you've heard lately.
To write the album, Karim borrowed from the music of the Gnawa, a religious-spiritual musical tradition descended from West African peoples brought to Morocco as slaves hundreds of years ago. Now integrated deeply into Moroccan culture, the centerpiece of Gnawa music is the lila—or "night," in Arabic—an all-night-long ritual of rhythm designed to induce participants and musicians alike into a healing trance state. Which, if you're a dedicated raver, may sound familiar, yes?
Crafted entirely with modular synthesizers, Lila conjures a range of textures and moods. The show opens with "Bakh," a blissful exercise in beatlessness, clear and crystalline. On "Philipoussis," "Kiyex," and "Sonic," arpeggiated synths approximate Gnawa chants while interlaid percussion keeps time in multiple meters. "La" and "Kille" pulse in half-time, ideal for creative mixing. "Joul à lèvre" bristles with electricity, the sound of a charged lightning rod. "Pamil," woozy and lurching, feels like being shipwrecked on a forgotten island. Last and absolutely certainly not least, on the final track, "Miloir," Karim faces West and unleashes the album's only kick drum for a ten-minute psychedelic techno masterpiece. The mind warps; the body moves.
Lila is released on Tikita, Karim's own record label, founded in 2014. Tikita's discography, spare but tightly curated, features artists from across the globe pushing outwards into techno's deepest reaches. Karim's album pushes even farther. Listen for yourself.
- A1: Yede Aba
- A2: Mene Menua Mienu
- A3: Sabarima
- A4: Ebia Nie
- A5: Amintiminim
- A6: Siakwaa
- A7: Nana Agyei
- B1: Efie Ne Fie
- B2: Nyankonton Nko Nyaa
- B3: Kwankwaasem Nti
- B4: Egya Ananse Yi Wonan Baako
- B5: Kwaadede Meyare Merewu
- B6: Eda A Mewu
Strut proudly presents the first-ever reissue of a landmark 1974 Ghanaian highlife classic Sikyi Highlife by Dr K. Gyasi & His Noble Kings, originally released on Essiebons.
A defining recording of the era, Sikyi Highlife bridges tradition and innovation at a pivotal moment in Ghanaian music. Deeply rooted in the classic 1950s–’60s highlife sound, K. Gyasi drew inspiration from the ancient sikyi drum-dance of the Akan people of southern Ghana, shaping the album’s rhythms around its distinctive pulse.
The vocal arrangements echo the traditional Akan modal style, grounding the music firmly in Ghana’s cultural heritage. Yet Sikyi Highlife is equally forward-thinking. As electric guitars became standard in highlife during the 1960s, the 1970s ushered in further experimentation. The Noble Kings broke new ground as the first highlife guitar band to incorporate keyboards and a full horn section into their sound, expanding the genre’s sonic possibilities while retaining its rootsy spirit.
Gyasi’s approach was part of a broader indigenisation movement among Ghana’s electric highlife bands in the post-independence era. Inspired by the nation’s ‘African Personality’ ethos and reinforced by Afrocentric messages arriving from American soul and funk, artists began reclaiming traditional forms within modern arrangements. Contemporaries included Koo Nimo, who revived the older palmwine style, and drummer Nii Ashitey, whose Wulomei band pioneered a folklorised Ga highlife sound from 1973.
Like many musicians of his generation, Gyasi was a passionate supporter of Ghana’s independence movement. In 1963, he travelled as a musical ambassador alongside Ghana’s first president, Kwame Nkrumah, performing across North Africa and the USSR and carrying Ghanaian culture onto the world stage.
The Noble Kings’ mid-’70s line-up featured some of the country’s finest musicians, including guitarist Eric Agyeman (who led the band at the time), Thomas Frimpong on drums and vocals, Ernest Honny on organ, and bassist Ralph Karikari - who was renowned for his innovative technique of translating the rhythms and tonal language of the traditional talking drum onto electric bass.
Upon its original release, Sikyi Highlife became one of the biggest-selling albums of the 1970s for Essiebons, earning Gyasi the affectionate honorary title of “Dr” from his devoted fans. Today, the album remains an evergreen classic, still cherished across Ghana and beyond.
POEME ELECTRONIQUE was Dave Hewson (synthesisers, production), Sharon Abbott (lyrics, lead and backing vocals), Julie Ruler (backing vocals) and Les Hewson (bass), formed in 1980 by Dave Hewson in South London, UK, in 1980. Dave was studying music and as a rare kind of student species he had a deep fascination for New Wave and electronic music thus also playing and recording electronic music ever since like using the Boss DR-55, Cosmo Sound Super Drum, Elka Rhapsody 610, EMS Synthi AKS, Korg MS-20(X2)/Polysix/Polyphonic Ensemble 1000/VC-10 Vocoder, Linn Electronics LM-1, Octave Kitten, Roland RS-09/VP-330 Vocoder Plus, Simmons SDS-V Kit and Yamaha CS-80 on this retrospective POEME ELECTRONIQUE album with original material from 1981/82 only. Over the period of more than two years, Dave has remastered these tracks using the latest high-end tools making them sound better than ever before. The deluxe 2LP vinyl album comprises 16 tracks of which 14 have never been published before. “The Echoes Fade” and “Voice” are the original versions taken off their original 7” from 1982. The album “The Echoes Fade” cannot be described other than being a masterpiece and one of the best-ever early 80’s electropop records ever, and it surely has to be lined up with Rational Youth or Experimental Products’ cult albums (in terms of being minimal synth/wave scene reference albums), but to be frank, Anna thinks that POEME ELECTRONIQUE were even above their level.
Truly, they had deserved to go on the successful path like Depeche Mode, OMD or Soft Cell, but fate was against them as it seems. The main difference to other electropop groups of the time was definitely that Dave did not only master his synths technically-wise, no, he also knew how to actually play, and when you hear his amazing multi-track ‘manual sequencing’, programming skills, great harmonies and melodies throughout the tracks, along with the two girls’ performances – well they can really sing! – you will agree there is some something remarkably extraordinary in these tracks. You will find minimal electropop super hits like “Rendezvous”, “She’s an Image”, “Fragile”, or “Dilemma”; hauntingly beautiful melancholic tracks like “A Mourner’s Lament”, “This Night” or “It’s in the Atmosphere”; darkest minimal electronics on “Inside his Head”; and even more poppier tracks like “Follow”. This record will hopefully be loved by any electronic music lover and most probably marks the highlight in the growing Anna Logue Records catalogue – therefore Anna did not shy away from any costs and the album is truly an outstanding release in every single aspect including sound and artwork presentation. Apart from the bonus tracks you will find in the 2LP deluxe vinyl edition glossy inner sleeves with lyrics to all songs, as well as individual mini 7” sleeves for each song designed by our dear graphic designer Steve Lippert plus many additional group photos on the gatefold sleeves’ inner. After so many efforts and more than two years passing by, Anna is so over the moon to see this release being ready now and we have done all we could to make this an outstanding release, so now it’s up to you to give the band their final glory, but Anna is in no doubt that – at least after hearing the sound samples – you will.
Gatefold Sleeve
M’Bamina – African Roll (1975)
The story of an album born between Africa, Italy, and the nightclub culture of the 1970s
In the heart of 1970s Italy — a country undergoing profound social change and a music scene just beginning to open itself to distant sounds and cultures — an extraordinary, almost improbable story took shape. It is the story of a group of young African musicians who found their way to Europe, of a Turin nightclub that became a crossroads for communities and experimenters, and of an album which, released in small numbers and largely unnoticed at the time, is now considered a rare jewel of Afro-fusion.
The band called themselves M’Bamina — an ensemble of musicians from Congo, Cameroon, and Benin, who arrived in Italy in the early Seventies. Settling between northern Italy and the Pavia area, they began performing in small clubs and community events, bringing with them a vibrant rhythmic heritage: African polyrhythms, call-and-response vocals, funk-infused bass lines, and Caribbean or Afro-Latin colours absorbed along their musical journeys. Their raw, contagious energy on stage quickly drew attention.
Meanwhile, in Turin, another story was unfolding. There was a venue becoming almost legendary: Voom Voom, one of the city’s liveliest nightclubs, run by Ivo Lunardi. The club attracted an eclectic crowd — students, artists, foreigners, night owls — and Lunardi quickly understood that the dancefloor wasn’t just a place for music, but a melting pot for a new kind of cultural energy. Out of this vibrant atmosphere came his idea: to turn the club’s name into a small independent record label, Voom Voom Music, capable of capturing the spirit of those years and giving voice to unconventional projects.
When Lunardi heard M’Bamina, he immediately sensed that this was the sound he had been searching for: fresh, different from anything circulating in Italy at the time, and capable of blending African tradition with funk and European sensibility. He brought them into the studio.
Production was handled by Lunardi along with Christian Carbaza Michel, while the engineering was entrusted to Danilo Pennone, a young sound technician with a sharp, intuitive ear.
The recording sessions — held in Turin in 1975 — produced a remarkably warm and direct sound. The music feels almost live: grooves rooted in African tradition, but open to funk-rock structures and modern arrangements. It is a natural fusion, never forced. Tracks move between tribal rhythms, funk basslines, light electric guitars, congas and Afro-Latin percussion, with call-and-response vocals and melodies that echo both Congolese tradition and the lineage of Latin jazz. Not by chance, one of the album’s most striking tracks, Watchiwara, reinterprets a Latin standard through M’Bamina’s own rhythmic language.
The album was titled African Roll — a name that was already a statement of intention. It is African music that “rolls,” that moves, adapts, transforms within a new geographic and cultural setting. It is not strictly Afrobeat, nor Congolese rumba, nor Western funk: it is a spontaneous, hybrid blend, shaped more by lived experience than by any calculated aesthetic program.
When African Roll was released, the world around it barely noticed. Distribution was limited, and 1970s Italy had yet to develop a cultural framework for receiving such music. The national music press rarely paid attention to African or “world” productions. The album slipped into silence — though the band’s own story did not.
M’Bamina continued performing across Europe and Africa, even sharing a stage in Cameroon with none other than Manu Dibango. By the late Seventies, they moved to Paris, signed with Fiesta/Decca, and recorded a second LP, Experimental (1978). Meanwhile, the peculiar record they had made in Turin began to resurface quietly among vinyl collectors, Afro-funk enthusiasts, and DJs hunting for forgotten grooves.
That is when the album’s fate began to shift.
Over the decades, African Roll emerged as an almost unique document: a snapshot of an intercultural Italy before the word “intercultural” even existed, a fragment of migrant history, a spontaneous experiment in musical fusion born far from major industry circuits but rich in authenticity. Original copies began commanding high prices on the collector’s market, and the album became recognized as one of the hidden classics of European Afro-fusion from the 1970s.
Today, more than fifty years later, this reissue finally restores visibility and dignity to a project that deserves to be heard, studied, and celebrated. It is not simply an album: it is the testimony of a rare cultural encounter, born in an Italy unaware of how fertile such exchanges would one day become.
It is the story of a visionary producer, an extraordinary band, and a fleeting moment in which music, migration, and nightlife came together to create something genuinely new.
African Roll is — now more than ever — the sound of a bridge: between continents, between eras, between cultures. A record that, after rolling far and wide, has finally come home.
2026 Repress
French DJ and producer Hemka makes a striking solo debut on Mutual Rytm with 'Introspection'.
Born in Marseille and based in Paris, Hemka has been shaping her take on techno for over a decade, steadily growing her international presence with music on respected imprints such as Token. Her music fuses the raw energy of 90s techno with modern textures and is fast-paced, groovy and laced with subtle psychedelia. By weaving in her own vocals, Hemka adds a deeply personal and authentic layer that resonates with both the body and mind. Following the strong reception of her track 'Fragrance' on the 'Federation Of Rytm III' compilation, this potent new EP is a powerful reflection of her bold, emotional and forward-thinking artistic voice and the start of an exciting new chapter with SHDW's Mutual Rytm.
'Abyss' kicks off with tightly coiled, heavy-hitting drum funk and eerie synths that never let up while ghoulish vocals layer in extra darkness and anxiety. 'Time' is another sleek, stripped-back but banging wedge of linear techno excellence and 'I Can't Shine' layers up paranoid vocals with high-speed glitches and rubbery drums to ensure maximum impact in the club. The excellence continues with 'The Bad Place' with booming drums and moody synth atmospheres, getting you up on your toes and keeping you there. Last, 'Unchanged' fizzes with static electricity as wordless vocals refract around the mix next to wispy synths and icy hi-hats. Digital bonus cuts 'Voice In My Head' and 'Eternity' round things out with more heady and intense techno for driving deep into the night.




















