Suche:too deep

Kaninchenbau label head The Funk District has joined forces with Argentinian keys specialist Sokur for a new four-tracker that collides bluesy samples with sleek electronic grooves. 'Till My Feet Got Numb' kicks off with waves of synth energy run through with sampled vocals that hark back to Robert Johnson. 'Never Satisfied' is another mix of funky drums, jazzy pianos and crackly blues vocals that is unusual but effective. 'Took My Babe Away' repeats this combination, this time with hints of St Germain in the melancholic spoken words and ever more thumping and acid-laced beats. 'Sunshine From The Sky' completes the quartet with more hurried grooves laced with wonky synth work. It's peak time stuff with plenty of deeper meaning.

Grad_U returns to his legendary Redscale imprint with a re-press of one of the label’s most sought-after 12-inches. Originally released as part of the series that helped define modern dub techno, Redscale 02 showcases the Lithuanian artist’s unmistakable sound, deep, analog, and endlessly evolving.
Both sides carry Grad_U’s signature weight: hypnotic low-end movement, rolling chords, and perfectly balanced textures that blur the line between club tool and meditative listening piece. Once again, Redscale reminds us why it stands as one of the most respected labels in the global dub techno scene: no hype, no compromise, just deep, timeless sound.

The inaugural excursion from Fake Build comes by way of in-house coordinator “dj set”. Leading you down a well worn path, the Quest Log reveals 4 choices of deep, techy, dubby house music. Modern sheen diffused with classic grit ensures optimal groove, never overstepping or hanging too far back in the shadows.

Limited to 250 copies !

The Deadheads had never had much luck with spaceships. Their first mission had ended in a catastrophic engine failure, leaving them adrift in deep space for weeks. This time, their craft was hardly more reassuring. A hodgepodge of outdated technology and shoddy repairs made it more of a floating death trap than a reliable cruiser. As they began their descent toward the strange planet, the hull creaked and rattled, sending a wave of dread through the crew.

"Hold on," Matt's voice crackled over the intercom, without much conviction, as if he himself doubted they would make it out alive. Outside, a thick, grayish atmosphere swirled ominously, while the planet's gravity became far stronger than anticipated.

“Fuck, we’re gonna burn at the entrance!” M yelled, his hands flailing on the console as sparks flew from the control panel. The ship’s sensors were completely jammed, and the navigation system flickered intermittently, like a dying light. Below, the planet’s surface was a tangle of lava rivers and jagged rock formations, the kind of place no sane person would ever land. But the Deadheads had never pretended to be. They lived in a state of constant emergency.

As the descent intensified, the alarms blared. On the bridge, the screens lit up with red warnings and flashing messages: "SYSTEM ERROR," "UNSTABLE TRAJECTORY," "SUIVITY SYSTEM COMPROMISED." The lines of code scrolled by too quickly to be read, while a mechanical voice repeated relentlessly: "Imminent impact. Structural integrity at twenty percent."

The once pristine shell of the vessel began to disintegrate, with shards of metal breaking away and disappearing into the atmosphere.

With a final, piercing screech, the ship crashed onto the planet's surface, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. The crew was violently thrown from their seats, stunned but barely alive. They struggled to their feet amidst the wreckage, the ship reduced to a charred shell around them.

"Well," M said, wiping the dirt off his suit with a grimace, "at least the air is breathable." Matt scanned the hostile expanse stretching before them and smiled slightly. "Perfect. Let's hope we have better luck with the planet than with our ships."

With that, the Deadheads gathered their equipment and headed into the unknown, while the remains of their ship slowly sank into the unstable soil of the planet.

Rochelle Jordan is proudly stepping into her diva era. To those in the know, the Los Angeles-based British-Canadian singer and songwriter has long been an underground force coaxing together the mutually flirtatious scenes of daring alt-R&B and heart-pumping electronic music. With her longtime creative director/producer KLSH, she’s cultivated a singular marriage of sound — mixing soulful sensuality, house bump, DnB wildness, hip-hop swagger, and pure experimentalism — that’s spread not only through certain circles, but also to the mainstream. At the same time that her gauzy 2014 single “Lowkey” was going viral in 2023 — racking up 21 million streams on Spotify alone — she was in the studio cooking with tastemaking beatsmiths like KAYTRANADA and Sango, quietly preparing to melt dance floors and headphones alike.

Now, as the timelines merge, Jordan is approaching success with the sparkle of a brand new star and the stance of someone who’s earned everything she has. Her new musical chapter aims to carry forward the magic that fans feel in her coquettish vocals and bold soundscapes even as she reaches deeper into her pop bag. The fact that her first single of 2025, the darkly dazzling “Crave,” was produced by Chicago house legend Terry Hunter (Janet Jackson, Mariah Carey, Beyoncé) speaks volumes to this exact moment in Jordan’s ascendent trajectory.

“My goal when I first started making music was to bring back something that I felt had started to fade away for me,” says Jordan. “That certain essence or sound that would give me butterflies in my stomach when I’d listen to music — it would unleash some kind of chemical that would make me feel happy and excitable and curious, something that would make my soul shine. My number one goal is always: How do I give people that feeling when they listen to my music?”

Jordan grew up in Toronto raised by British-Jamaican parents. She remembers hearing one of her older brothers cycling through a variety of music at maximum volume in the room next to hers. “Reggae to soul to drum and bass to garage music to gospel,” Jordan recalls. “It was all intertwining for me at such a young age.” She developed her own sound quietly, and soon met KLSH through MySpace. They traded multiple songs back and forth daily until he flew her out to L.A. to record what would become her debut project, 2011’s R O J O. That collaboration hasn’t faltered since, resulting in sonically surprising, subtly infectious sets like Jordan’s breakthrough 2014 album 1021 (with “Lowkey”) and 2021’s dance-steeped revelation, Play with the Changes.

“If you’re talking about Rochelle Jordan, you’re talking about KLSH,” she says. “It’s one and the same. We come from the same inspiration source.” With him at her side to this day, Jordan is crafting new listening experiences as radiant as refracted light glimmering through a prism — an incredible space from within which to explore love in all its iterations — from romantic infatuation to self-affirmation, and strength in womanhood to pride for what she’s accomplished thus far.

More than a decade into her career, Jordan has arrived at a new stage of life and creativity — she’s a seasoned professional, a fully realized woman, and she’s excited to continue growing. “I know my story isn’t necessarily a new one,” she says. “I look at 2 Chainz, who became 2 Chainz way later on in his life. I look at Tina Turner, who became Tina Turner at 40. I want to be another story of resilience for people.” As she prepares to unveil more of her vision, and fans clamber for a long-awaited fourth album, Rochelle Jordan is casting aside self-doubt, and appreciating and underlining her status as a verifiably influential reigning diva in her one-of-one sonic space.

With the 7th Grade of the Riddim Dub School series, Prince Istari enters Junior High School. Prince Istari returns with his Riddim Dub School series now on 12inch, pushing deeper into the intersection of dub, drum and bass, and sound system culture. This 6-track EP, titled "lessons into drum and bass wise", explores raw rhythms, analog feedbacks, and heavy low-end pressure.
The EP starts with a Drum and Bass cut with a One Drop of the DUB ME LOOPY tune from Riddim Dub School 5th Grade. INTIMACY COORDINATOR follows with a heavy Disco Dub. The last track on Side A is LABOUR’S DUB, with deep bass polished through spring reverb. The shakers come in late and push the whole thing forward. Side B begins with GONE TOO SOON from Riddim Dub School 4th Grade, in an alternative version. It’s followed by the most upfront track on the release CONQUERING DUB – brass fanfares and a deep disco rocker beat with minimalistic arrangement. NO DUB INNA DI WRONG ends the 7th Grade with a roots way style. It suggests
that dub music doesn't belong to or support negative, corrupt, or unjust actions or spaces. Dub music stays righteous, true, or positive, and doesn’t associate with bad vibes or wrongdoing.

Kontakt Records presents KNT-47 “Chromatic Noise”, a deep exploration of dub techno and dub-infused house from Canadian producer Matt Thibideau. Across three extended cuts, Thibideau sculpts spacious, analogue-leaning grooves where every element has room to breathe. Subtle saturation, soft tape hiss and finely tuned low-end weight create that unmistakable sense of depth, while shimmering chords and carefully placed delays drift in and out of the stereo field. The result is music that feels both hypnotic and alive, built for long blends, late sessions and sound systems that reward detail. “Chromatic Noise” sits comfortably in the Kontakt Records tradition: timeless dub aesthetics, modern production values and a focus on atmosphere over obvious peaks. It’s the kind of 12" that works just as well as a DJ tool as it does for attentive home listening – patient, understated and endlessly playable. Tiny shifts in texture, filter movement and echo tails keep the tension moving forward without ever breaking the spell.

Don Cherry, armed with a voracious musical appetite and boundless imagination, first made a name for himself - though not always fully understood - alongside Ornette Coleman, playing trumpet or cornet. In Los Angeles and then New York, he stood at the heart of a revolutionary approach to improvisation based on melody rather than harmony, later baptized "Free Jazz," the final structural development of American jazz. Over time, he became a champion of improbable fusions - gradually integrating into his style a whole array of "exotic" instruments, and more importantly, the cultures from which they originated. Among them: India, Brazil, Africa, Indonesia, and even China. The time had come for the emergence of "world music": in hindsight, a patchwork rich in imagination and seduction, but once the novelty wore off, often lacking in substance.

In Don Cherry's case, however, the commitment ran deep - tied to his personal engagement with a global vision of art and the human condition. Ustad Ahmed Latif Khan, from the Delhi gharana (a musical lineage), was part of a new generation of accompanists - percussionists, sarangi players, flutists, etc. - who had extended both the technical and conceptual possibilities of their predecessors to gain recognition as soloists and soon to venture onto the international scene. Among them, Latif stood out for his taste for irregular, highly syncopated rhythmic patterns - rich in variety and originality. Don and Latif had never met before the recording session, but the two quickly recognised one another as kindred spirits - calm, focused... and full of laughter. Don clearly knew what he wanted to create, and nothing seemed to pose a challenge for Latif, who grasped the American's intentions immediately, warmed up his fingers at astonishing speed, and with his perfect pitch, naturally took on the role of tuning Don's diverse instrument collection to match whatever was found in the studio - from concert piano and Hammond B3 organ to chromatic orchestral timpani.

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

‘Pilot’ is the debut album from London quintet Miniseries. Channelling the epic sweep of TV themes and movie soundtracks into resplendent space rock they explore themes of youth and ageing, heartbreak and paranoia, euphoria and existential dread.

Songwriter Doug Morch (Longview) had been working on largely acoustic folk songs when he met Angela Gannon (The Magic Numbers) at Glastonbury 2017. Romance and musical collaboration ensued. The band coalesced in the hallowed environs of Farringdon's The Betsey Trotwood pub – a musical nexus where burgeoning indie and Americana scenes collide – where they met fellow songwriter and guitarist Dermot Watson (from Brighton's The Dials) and drummer Danny Abbasi and were joined by Doug's former bandmate Aidan Banks on bass. When they came together, their indie folk mutated into motorik art rock, with their first single being an eight-minute jam called "Road".

When it came to capturing their sound, the band reached for maverick musician and producer Sean Read. They recorded tracks at Read's Famous Times studio in Clapton, London, as well as at Edwyn Collins' Clashnarrow in Helmsdale, Scotland – one of the world's most breathtaking and idiosyncratic studio locations, adding unquantifiable magic to the proceedings.

For the closing track "May You Always", they headed to another studio imbued with tangible inspiration: Blueprint Studio in Salford with producer Craig Potter (Elbow) at the helm. For the song, Dermot drew cinematic inspiration from the Withnail & I line "I'll never play The Dane", the song is about realising that the things you aspired to in youth will never come to pass and being at peace with that realisation.

The recurring themes of youth and ageing are apparent in the resplendent lead track ‘You're Gold’ – a heartfelt call for young people to reject materialism and exploitative influencer culture in search of life's deeper meaning, with stylistic nods to The Pixies and early Stereolab.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, "Sepia" explores old age and fading memories through dementia, where the ending descends into chaos like a fragmenting mind. Elements of "Sepia" are foreshadowed in the album's opening track, the instrumental "Pilot Theme", which pays homage to TV theme music, invoking spy thrillers or perhaps something otherworldly from science fiction.

“Offcumdens” is a Calder Valley, Yorkshire term for people who live in the area but come from somewhere else. Hailing from Bury, Lancashire, Morch wrote the song while living in Hebden Bridge (and watching too much Happy Valley) and found himself being an offcumden. It’s a pop at the kind of local nativism which breeds intolerance and an illustration of the sinister rise of wider political populism.

Miniseries' Pilot is just the beginning of the story. Enthralling and atmospheric, the London quintet have created something familiar yet timeless. As singer Doug Morch says, "It's the Miniseries Pilot episode. Like the TV episode a studio makes to test whether it's viable.” In the age of streaming and box-sets, this is an album to truly binge on. We can’t wait to hear what happens next.

Dream Sonic Research kicks off its self-titled imprint with a debut release of four tracks crafted for forward-thinking dancefloors. Ethernal Horizons opens with deep techno textures, 303 acid squelches and immersive ambient layers. Alchemic brings a vintage mood, a straight-to-the-point melody and ’80s-inspired snares, delivering a hard-hitting, dancefloor-ready cut.

On the flip side, Bleep Systems fuses Italian-progressive basslines with UK-style bleep rhythms, before the closing track Information Superhighway drives into faster territories, offering precise, hypnotic tools for movement. A first step for the artist and the label, and a clear statement of intent.

With WHERE IS MY HEAD?, his first full-length album since 2019, Indonesian-born artist Rich Brian redefines success on his own terms. No longer chasing hits, he turns inward — creating the most vulnerable and honest music of his career. The result is a cohesive, deeply personal body of work that strengthens his bond with an ever-growing fanbase. Brian handled most of the production himself, shaping an analog-forward sound rooted in his self-taught mastery of synthesizers and keyboards. He sings more than ever before, with a newfound confidence and maturity that signals real artistic growth. WHERE IS MY HEAD? isn’t just a return — it’s a revelation. Each track answers one central question: how can I make art that truly makes me happy? To visually explore this feeling of self-reflection, the album introduces two versions of Brian — a MAESTRO who scores music for the dreams of MOVIE BRIAN, who exists unaware inside the world the Maestro has created. This surreal, introspective concept is brought to life through a series of cinematic music videos and visualizers, all directed by Jared Hogan, expanding the depth of the album into a fully realized narrative world.

Swan Song

The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 tracks 2 to 11 was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.

Ethiopia1976.

The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.

ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä

It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.

The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.

Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.

The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.

Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…

1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.

Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.

The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.

Dahlak Band, forgotten by History

Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.

Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.

It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.

A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.

With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.

In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.

Warning! Masterpiece!

For the first time on vinyl! Sly and the Family Stone – Who in the Funk Do You Think You Are: The Warner Recordings brings together Sly Stone’s groundbreaking albums from 1979 and 1982 for Warner. This collection includes rare demos and material previously only available on the limited Rhino Handmade CD release. Sly and the Family Stone took the Sixties ideal of unity and turned it into deeply groove-driven music.

A true double-sider of soulful excellence, Mr. Soul (aka Al Scott) delivers pure magic on Genuine Records with “You’re Too Good” and “What Happened to Yesterday.” On “You’re Too Good,” Scott’s smooth, honeyed vocals glide over a mid-tempo groove, blending elements of sweet soul and crossover with effortless style. The lush instrumentation, crisp rhythm section, and irresistible melody make this a standout for DJs looking to work deeper cuts into a set or collectors seeking that perfect soulful gem for their box.

Flip it over and you’re treated to “What Happened to Yesterday,” a deeply emotive ballad rich with longing and heartache. Scott’s vocal performance is drenched in feeling, perfectly supported by subtle strings and understated arrangements that let the song’s emotional weight shine through. Released on the much-loved Genuine Records imprint, this rare 45 has long been a favourite among serious soul heads, with both sides offering something special—whether for the dance floor or reflective late-night listening. A must-have for any serious soul collector.

Kontakt Records presents KNT-47 “Chromatic Noise”, a deep exploration of dub techno and dub-infused house from Canadian producer Matt Thibideau. Across three extended cuts, Thibideau sculpts spacious, analogue-leaning grooves where every element has room to breathe. Subtle saturation, soft tape hiss and finely tuned low-end weight create that unmistakable sense of depth, while shimmering chords and carefully placed delays drift in and out of the stereo field. The result is music that feels both hypnotic and alive, built for long blends, late sessions and sound systems that reward detail. “Chromatic Noise” sits comfortably in the Kontakt Records tradition: timeless dub aesthetics, modern production values and a focus on atmosphere over obvious peaks. It’s the kind of 12" that works just as well as a DJ tool as it does for attentive home listening – patient, understated and endlessly playable. Tiny shifts in texture, filter movement and echo tails keep the tension moving forward without ever breaking the spell.

Kontakt Records presents KNT-47 “Chromatic Noise”, a deep exploration of dub techno and dub-infused house from Canadian producer Matt Thibideau. Across three extended cuts, Thibideau sculpts spacious, analogue-leaning grooves where every element has room to breathe. Subtle saturation, soft tape hiss and finely tuned low-end weight create that unmistakable sense of depth, while shimmering chords and carefully placed delays drift in and out of the stereo field. The result is music that feels both hypnotic and alive, built for long blends, late sessions and sound systems that reward detail. “Chromatic Noise” sits comfortably in the Kontakt Records tradition: timeless dub aesthetics, modern production values and a focus on atmosphere over obvious peaks. It’s the kind of 12" that works just as well as a DJ tool as it does for attentive home listening – patient, understated and endlessly playable. Tiny shifts in texture, filter movement and echo tails keep the tension moving forward without ever breaking the spell.

Its Big! Limited vinyl run from one of the biggest tracks of 2025.

Fold and cu.rve join forces for the inaugural release on Ingram, a new label dedicated to bold, underground-rooted electronic music. Their debut collaboration, “Business,” delivers a dark, kinetic statement of intent—genre-defying, club-ready, and engineered for the dancefloor’s outer limits. Merging raw authenticity with forward-thinking production, the track crystallises the label’s mission while uniting two artists whose careers have consistently pushed at the edges of UK club culture.

On the flip is “Smart Casual,” a sleek counterpoint to the intensity of Business. Harnessing the same shadowy, garage-inflected energy, the track leans into a deeper, bassline-driven groove—refined, minimalist, and designed to work across peak-time warm-ups and after-hours sessions alike. Already following in the successful footsteps of “Business,” which has been receiving global support from heavyweights including Four Tet and Joy Orbison, “Smart Casual” lands as a sharp, functional club tool that reinforces Ingram’s commitment to cutting-edge dance music.

Together, the two tracks mark an uncompromising opening chapter for Ingram—one defined by progression, underground spirit, and dancefloors pushed to their limits.

This is the first new Andy Boay album since 2013’s In The Light. I recorded it in January 2024 to a Yamaha MT8X 8-track cassette recorder in my room at the New York Center for Creativity & Dance in the East Village of Manhattan.

I mixed it in June 2024 with Joe Santarpia and Roberto Pagano at the Idiot Room in San Francisco. The three songs on Side A (“HBM,” “If I Ever Come Off,” and “You’re In The Air Now”) were initially arranged over several live performances using a multi-track looper. When I then sat down to track them to my tape machine, I meticulously sang and played out all repeating parts, layering and ping-pong-bouncing each doubled take to another tape-track. In this way I hoped to maintain the hypnotic quality of the looped parts while keeping them organic, singular, and fleeting. Side B is a triptych of more carefully arranged pop songs: a tremolo & mod-delay elegy to youth called “Careless,” bookended by two variations on the same theme — the stark, mellotron prayer of “One & One” and the lonesome after-hours funk of “I Want More”. The line “You took that walk for the two of us” has a dual meaning. In 2011, my friend Spencer Gilley took a long walk through Montreal while listening to demos I’d recorded.

He described the experience to me as magical, ecstatic, inspiring. His encouragement from that moment still echoes every time I sit down to write or record. Less than a year later, I met Florida musician Thomas Fekete. We formed a deep, brief friendship that lasted until his death in 2016. Thom entered my life during a chaotic time and helped me find direction and courage. He took me on a tour that shifted the course of my life. We bonded over surviving cancer as young men, Florida’s noise scene, and the strange lives we led as touring guitarists (he in Surfer Blood, me in Mac DeMarco’s band). Thom could always warmly anticipate all of my joy, humor, and curiosity—and all of my pain, anxiety, and fear. In this way, it felt like he was also taking that walk for the two of us—gently guiding me down a path he had already traveled. Andy Boay (Andy White) began playing and recording music as a teen in Orlando during the early 2000s, exploring noise, psych, and pop in bands and solo projects.

He has played in the duo Tonstartssbandht with his brother Edwin since 2007. He spent six years playing guitar in the touring band for Mac DeMarco. Andy Boay’s music taps the euphoric and the sorrowful, both onstage amongst friends and strangers, and tracking alone at his 8-track in the studio. These days he lives and works in the East Village neighborhood of New York City.