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A feeling of hope slithering from dark corners permeates most every track of Sour Widows’ new LP, Sigil. Crafted with acclaimed producer and Jay Som mastermind Melina Duterte in downtown Los Angeles, the album’s eleven songs curve in unexpected directions and are the most magnetic Sour Widows have written yet. There is a newfound immediacy to the album as if Sour Widows have urgent findings to share, and throughout Sigil, ostensible disaster ushers in a new start.

A feeling of hope slithering from dark corners permeates most every track of Sour Widows’ new LP, Sigil. Crafted with acclaimed producer and Jay Som mastermind Melina Duterte in downtown Los Angeles, the album’s eleven songs curve in unexpected directions and are the most magnetic Sour Widows have written yet. There is a newfound immediacy to the album as if Sour Widows have urgent findings to share, and throughout Sigil, ostensible disaster ushers in a new start.

2025 Repress

For the second installment of its renewed imprint, Fuse's own in-house resident and one of Belgium's proudest exports Phara takes the reins for a deep dive into thick percussion and vibrant club landscapes. 'The Wall' puts current dance music under a microscope with a brush of truly vintage spontaneity, merging techno's confrontational nature with house's harmonic genuineness. This duality is reflected through Phara's own relationship with his home base Fuse and the complementary contrast between its two rooms.

The EP's title track serves as a hypnotic introduction for the A1, imposing a bass-heavy rhythm and a persistently oscillating synthline. A dense production full of energy, 'The Wall' inspires intrigue throughout its duration, revealing its true intentions through a capable sound system. Sharing the first side of the press is 'Blaes 208', a name that Fuse club goers will likely recognise, that guides the listener from effect into embrace. With lush keys echoing past a comforting drum sequence fit for a close-eyed dancefloor experience, Phara's impactful tendencies meet his affinity for the melodic through a blissful six minutes of crowd to selector connection. Switching sides, a return to a cold cold aesthetic is quickly apparent through 'Hush Now 206'. A pummeling, saturated bass competes with a kick of equal effect, rolling through a storm of metallic stabs. Mastering the message of urgency, Phara presents a lightshow of resonating percussive work, defining his space just to cut right through it. To close out with a lasting impression, the producer mutes the acoustics of his work through razor-sharp sound design dotting along playful snares, a duality reminiscent of the dynamism of Detroit electro. 'Motion Steps', referring to the stairs that ascend from Fuse's main room to its more left-field counterpart, captures the atmosphere of the almost shimmering music that can be expected to be played there; a place where Phara and many others have been known to explore the extremities of their music. He swiftly throws in melodic elements to recontextualize an otherwise pressing composition, and after three chapters of considerable weight, he concludes his record with infectious groove that flaunts technical ability.

Hector Gannet have always known that place and music are inseparable. For songwriter and guitarist Aaron Duff, North Shields high on England’s north east coast, shaped by fishing, shipbuilding, and the sea, is not just a backdrop but a source. Everything flows from it: the imagery, the politics, the particular stoicism of people who absorb more than their share and keep moving anyway.

‘The Great Shakedown’, their third album, is where that source runs deepest. Featuring bold brass arrangements alongside choir and church bells recorded live at the 17th-century Christ Church in North Shields, the album is Hector Gannet’s most ambitious and most searching work. The brass is a constant throughout: driving the Dexys-style urgency of the title track, lounging through the jazz-tinged Big White Telephone, surging euphorically through singles The Mother Tongue and Seven Signs.

The singles capture something essential about the album, euphoric on the surface, quietly devastating underneath. Beneath its propulsive brass lies an examination of stoicism as both armour and wound, of shared language used to avoid saying the very things that need to be said. It’s a quality that runs through the whole record, which looks at human history and art, the ordinary and the extraordinary, the actions of those in power and the communities who live with the consequences. It is both communal and euphoric - a powerful rallying cry for people at a time when we need it most.

This is more a relic than a record. A token of respect to the music that made me who I am. Everything I do starts here — the urge to pull songs I love into the club shape I play today, for one reason only: to make someone else feel what I feel when I hear them. Two techno improvisations, ANG and OSC, built on two songs that mattered enormously to me and to electronic music — bands that started their own revolutions, in their own time, mostly off to the side of the mainstream.

These came out too good to keep to myself. Vinyl only. 300 copies. No repress, ever. First come, first served. Bandcamp and selected stores. No digital, no promos — this one stays sealed.

Yorkshire's underground has always run deep and this double pack from one of the region's finest new labels, Hearlucinate, makes the case well. For this double album, Leeds mainstay Tristan da Cunha has done a careful excavation of Scott Featherstone's DAT archive featuring music recorded under his Triform alias entirely on analogue hardware. The results are simultaneously timeless and urgently present, and the kind of machine jams that only reveal their full power in dark, hazy rooms. 'Harmony' has a dark and sleazy soul, there's muscular drum weight to 'What Is This', 'Basic House Rocker' has an anxiety-riddled sound that's alive with twitchy acid electronics and 'Chimes' marries vast, swinging kicks with Detroit soul. Wonderful.

Tight, heartfelt, urgent sufferers. Niney when the two sevens clashed.

2026 Repress

ANNE and Sera J close their Symbiosis series on Mutual Rytm with third and most refined EP yet.

This final chapter reflects everything the collaboration has stood for across a trio of inventive techno releases on SHDW's imprint. Creative and life partners ANNE and Sera J have been two voices growing in parallel, evolving separately but moving with the same pulse. ANNE is well established thanks to standout EPs on the likes of Soma and Hardgroove, while Sera J has released on the likes of Life in Patterns and Renegade Methodz, and both have featured on Mutual Rytm's 'Federation Of Rytm' series before now. 'Symbiosis III' is the moment where everything comes full circle: the culmination of a journey built on respect, creativity, and the freedom to explore their own paths while lifting each other forward.

Sera J kicks off with 'Ransomware', a commanding and driving techno cut lit up with flashy synths but always moving with urgency. 'Phosphate' keeps the energy levels high with stripped-back drums and bass designed to perfection, while 'Anthrax' has an anxious edge. The synths are wispy but evocative as bass kills and swiping filters bring the drama.

ANNE then ups the ante with the acid-tinged 'Dementia', which is loopy and unrelenting before 'A Taste of a Real Woman' gets more seductive with a sultry spoken word and sustained chords that bring the paranoia. 'Heart Rate' is propulsive with Detroit-style synth soul and an aching vocal, before Sera J returns with 'On the Run' - a percussive, trippy and eerie roller. His final Cut 'Similar Minds' has a searching synth surveying a desolate landscape, before ANNE then closes the EP with the punchy drum patterns and icy hi hats of 'Primal Howl Of Ego' and a blend of deep drums and evocative synth work on the 'Analog Heartbeat' - which proves potent techno can be beautiful.

Rubbermaidxxx is a recent music performance project by the Irish artist Anna McCarthy, rather than simply the title of one autonomous artwork. Rubbermaidxxx is a character or unstable identity, an emancipatory underdog with a heart for daredevilry. The project sits naturally within McCarthy’s larger practice, which moves between drawing, assemblage, happenings and collective actions.

Clad in a black balaclava and fetish climbing wear, she abseils from buildings before entering the stage. For the first performance in New York City, she was invited by Kyp Malone of TV on the Radio to perform at his club Francis Kite Club in Alphabet City, NYC and since has continued to make a name for herself hanging off façades, singing, dancing and mopping the floor together with her performance collaborators Miss Philip a.k.a. Philip Errico and Michael Tapper at Pianos NYC, Kottbusser Tor and Genezarethkirche Berlin or the Villa Stuck Museum in Munich.

The album was produced in Munich and New York in 2025 in collaboration with her brother Nick McCarthy (Franz Ferdinand) and Anton Kaun (Rumpeln). What started as a quick improv turned into a high-energy 4-hour session of the siblings playing manic ball with beats, bass, guitars and vocals resulting in what laid the basis to this album. In the weeks following, Anna McCarthy, who is known for her cut-up production style, reminiscent of albums such as White Noise or Flying Lotus, continued to develop the vocals, performance and music by mixing in an amalgam of field recordings with her narrative spoken word, including sounds of protests, dollar stores or ice-cream trucks, as well as collaborating with the noise artist Rumpeln for the last two tracks of the album.

McCarthy is also known as the lyricist and singer of What Are People For? (debut 2022 on Alien Transistor) with its dystopic dance music candy-cane shows and equally humorously critical tongue-in-cheek bangers such as Bring back the Dirt, Drones or Partytime. Anna McCarthy's spoken word, social urgency and enthusiasm to experiment across mediums is comparable to other contemporaries such as Moor Mother, Miho Hatori, Gonjasufi, Tricky, or Cibo Matto.

The name itself is telling. Rubbermaidxxx evokes elasticity, artificiality, domestic labour and the commercial world of cleaning and garbage. It suggests a body capable of stretching, absorbing filth and cleaning up after society – only to revolt against the role it has been assigned.

Rubbermaidxxx is a master of deception, juggling fact and fiction as a reflection of our times – a diamond thief, a protester, or even responsible for the Louvre heist? This album invites the listener and viewer in, playfully dismantling hierarchies and power structures as she goes through a hopeful amalgam of dance, protest & love songs.

Bristol trio Jabu return with their first release for two years. Following on from their widely acclaimed third LP ‘A Soft and Gatherable Star’, this stand-alone double A-side Disco Mix 12” features four exclusive new tracks, while signposting fresh material currently being written, recorded and mixed for their forthcoming LP, due 2027.


If 2023 LP ‘Boiling Wells’ documented Jabu learning to be a live band, leaning into writing collectively in-the-moment, ‘A Soft and Gatherable Star’ took that record’s ad-hoc/mixtape blueprint, and fleshed out their transformation from an outfit rooted in hiphop and dubstep, to a guitar-based band with a unique take on dream-pop. It saw them described by The Face as “an experiential trio blending the raw edge of industrial dub with dreamy layers of ambient pop and shoegaze", and by The Wire as “like Mazzy Star remixed by The Mad Professor“.


Jabu have continued to grow in the space between releases, touring regularly for the first time, playing festivals such as Rewire and Le Guess Who?, and supporting the likes of Maria Somerville and AR Kane. Their extended live line-up now regularly incorporates those that contributed to ‘A Soft and Gatherable Star’, with new material often further developed as it gets passed back and forth between collaborators. Cellist Josh Horsley (Powders / Nightingale Floor) and multi-instrumentalist Will Yates (aka Memotone) both feature here, under the guiding hand of Birthmark’s mixing.


Titled after the rural, estuarine landscape bordering their Bristol hometown, ‘Severn Flood Plain’ sees the band pivot towards a more jagged and up-tempo, post-punk sound. It runs on a nagging drum machine pulse that feels closer to Joy Division than Sly Stone; while the echo-laced vocals and tremolo guitar phrasing hark back to the ‘50s slapback sound of Lee Hazlewood or Duane Eddy. Written and sung by Jasmine Butt, the lyrics describe a visit to a friend near the mouth of the Severn, and hint towards a darkness that can also be felt across that tidal landscape.


Dropping the pace to a languorous, sensual sprawl, ‘Where You Run To’ is plaintive and yearning, an opiated, ethereal flipside to ‘Severn Flood Plain’s more urgent, anxiety-laced opener. Alex Rendall’s vocals glide over a stripped, metronomic backdrop, eventually entwining with Memotone’s ghostly, processed clarinet.


If the band’s musical reference points appear to have shifted, their process remains indebted to dub and still very much rooted in the multicultural cross-pollination peculiar to their home city of Bristol. Both tracks are extended, with dub versions courtesy of Birthmark. The band sat in on those sessions, completing the circle that began with J’s on-stage mixing of their live sets. The strands provided by Will and Josh provide introspective counterpoint to the sound system leanings.


Jabu’s influences are threaded together as naturally here as on their long-running NTS radio show, ‘Music For Lovers’, which now occasionally guests on the Early Bird show slot. They are due to play World of Echo’s ‘Expected Music 2.0’ at London’s Walthamstow Trades Hall on 21st November with Loopsel, Insides, Giulio Erasmus, Thomas Bush, and Raime amongst others.

House and techno's most innovative improviser, KiNK, lands on Mutual Rytm X.

Offering four more thrilling dancefloor weapons, the iconic talent lands on SHDW's new Mutual Rytm X Series to deliver the label's second release.

Legendary Bulgarian artist KiNK is widely regarded as one of the most respected live acts on the global scene. He is a noted tech wizard who creates loops on the fly, crafts killer drums and never fails to hypnotise dancefloors. He has released on almost every influential label of the last 15 years and taken his unrivalled live show to all corners of the world, often drawing on those sets to bring aspects and inimitable qualities from his performances into his tracks. This innovative approach has helped to solidify his reputation as a groundbreaking figure, inspiring a new generation of musicians and producers, and he once again showcases precisely why he's in a league of his own here with a first appearance on SHDW's newly minted Mutual Rytm X.

'Unicord' opens up this new EP in thrilling fashion with sleek, Detroit-style synth loops flashing up top as the heavy, pounding while warm drums drive things down low. 'Quantum Shake' brings 90s energy with new school sound deists - the dubby drums are fast and urgent, the synth craft is deft, and the percussion adds texture to a straight-up but sophisticated techno anthem. 'Pitch Down' then brings fantastically unhinged synth leads that spray and zip about the mix to boggle the brain. Rattling percussive loops and chunky drums keep things moving as those synths get even more wild. To close, the digital bonus 'Highpass Lowpass' is a masterfully muscular cut with rugged bass and taught synths interlinking to mind-melting effect.

Siân Pottok is a citizen of the world.


Born in West Palm Beach, Florida, to a mother of Indian and Congolese heritage and a father of Slovak and Belgian descent, Siân grew up between Belgium and New York before finally letting her travelling wings come to rest in Paris. What could have become a story of fragmentation instead became a source of creative strength. Singer, songwriter, composer and photographer, Siân has always turned borders into bridges.


She first honed her voice in the jazz clubs of Paris and New York, performing alongside renowned artists such as Richard Bona, Jon Batiste and Mike Stern. Yet her path has always extended far beyond the stage. For nearly a decade, she led cultural initiatives with women and children living through exile, violence and poverty across India and Southern Africa, weaving together music, photography and artistic transmission as tools for dialogue and empowerment.
The true turning point came when she discovered the kamele ngoni, the West African harp whose ethereal sound seemed to echo something long buried within her. The instrument became her musical alter ego—the invisible thread binding together her many inheritances. Guided by Malian master Abou Diarra, Siân embarked on an inward journey towards her African roots. Yet this return to her origins was never an act of retreat into identity. Instead, it gave rise to a body of work that remains profoundly open to the world, where Africa enters into conversation with jazz, folk, soul, alternative pop and the rhythms of Brazil.
Along the way, she has crossed paths with remarkable artists including Rogê, Chico César, Fatoumata Diawara, Lokua Kanza, Flavia Coelho, Thomas de Pourquery and Philippe Baden Powell. On stage and in the studio, Siân continues to shape a musical universe that refuses labels. Like artists such as Björk, Joni Mitchell and Laura Mvula, she moves forward as an explorer, guided not by genre but by intuition.


Today, Siân stands as one of the most distinctive voices of the new Francophone music scene an artist capable of uniting musical sophistication with emotional power, introspection with collective celebration, depth with an irresistible urge to dance.


Animal — The New Album


With Animal, produced by British musician Tom Excell (Nubiyan Twist, Africa Express...), Siân delivers her most intimate and assured work to date. Every song feels like a shedding of skin, a quiet metamorphosis, exploring self-acceptance, femininity, the freedom to be oneself, cultural heritage, and the reconciliation of one's own imperfections.
From Stereotype, a fearless manifesto against the expectations imposed on women, to the title track Animal, an anthem celebrating the beauty of imperfection ("I've turned my cracks into a crown"), the album gives a voice to everyone who refuses to fit into predefined boxes. In Terre, je danse sur toi, featuring Fatoumata Diawara, Siân pays tribute to Mother Earth and to the roots that unite us all. Oh! Congo, recorded with Lokua Kanza, reconciles her cultural heritage with an ancestral homeland that feels both distant and intimately familiar. En équilibre, with Flavia Coelho, embraces the exhilaration of risk and the courage to leap, while Put a Mask and I Could Kill confront hidden wounds and the invisible violences that quietly shape who we become.
In ADé, Siân addresses Adenomyosis as though speaking to an unwanted housemate. "My body is your battlefield," she sings, giving voice to an intimate shadow lodged deep within herself. This bittersweet lullaby transforms a pain so often left unspoken into an act of profound tenderness towards oneself.
The album also holds a rare treasure: Reste tel(le), an unpublished text by Pierre Barouh, the founder of the Saravah label. Never before set to music or performed, this elusive poem of free love finds new life through Siân's voice, becoming a dialogue across time between two artists united by the same devotion to freedom, métissage and openness to the world.
Driven by Tom Excell's vibrant Afro-pop pulse, the spiritual breath of the kamele ngoni, organic arrangements and deeply personal songwriting, Animal is an album of liberation. It invites us to lay down our masks, embrace our contradictions and reconnect with the free, instinctive and powerful animal that lies dormant within us all. More than a collection of songs, it is a radiant manifesto for the richness of identity, the passing on of memory, and reconciliation with oneself.
Animal is not simply the title of an album, it is a declaration of independence. An invitation to live fully, unapologetically, and without instructions.
A citizen of the world, travelling freely between continents, languages and memories, Siân Pottok delivers with Animal her most personal, and perhaps her most universal work to date: an album that reminds us that our fragilities, our roots and our differences are, beyond doubt, our greatest strength.
— Christophe Tison

Klaus Kotai, a Viennese who had made Berlin his home, found a receptive audience in Cologne as early as the mid-90s with his records on Elektro Music Department. This club and label conglomerate, run with co-producer and DJ Mo Loschelder and the artist Daniel Pflumm, was working towards a radical streamlining of techno. A certain kinship with the pre-Kompakt sound of Cologne could not be denied. They exchanged greetings from afar.

Then came the 2000s, an exciting era for club music, rich in innovation and characterised above all by the burgeoning genres of minimal and electro clash. In 2002, Kotai’s ‘Sucker DJ’ was released, featuring the brilliant remix by Marcin “Highfish” Kozlowski, on WMF Records – the label belonging to the eponymous cult Berlin club. A true hit that struck a perfect balance between both worlds and was played across genres by virtually every DJ.

Exactly 20 years after the last re-release on Elektro Music Department (also distributed by Kompakt at the time), it’s now time for ‘Sucker DJ’ to make a comeback. Judging by Marco Cariolaa’s ‘Cringe Vibes’, it’s needed more urgently than ever.

Remastered, with new artwork by Daniel Pflumm, and still “fucking up your place”.
Der Wiener Wahlberliner Klaus Kotai stiess in Köln schon Mitte der 90er Jahre mit seinen Platten auf Elektro Music Department auf offene Ohren. Dieses mit Co-Produzentin & DJ Mo Loschelder sowie dem Künstler Daniel Pflumm betriebene Club-/Label-Konglomerat arbeitete sich an einer radikalen Entschlackung des Techno ab. Eine gewisse Seelenverwandtschaft zum Kölner Prä-Kompakt-Sound war nicht von der Hand zu weisen. Man grüßte sich aus der Ferne.

Dann kamen die 2000er, eine aufregende, an Innovationen nicht arme Ära für Clubmusik, die vor allem von den aufblühenden Genres Minimal und Electro Clash geprägt war. Im Jahr 20 02 kam dann Kotais ‘Sucker DJ’ mit dem kongenialen Marcin “Highfish” Kozlowski Remix auf dem zum gleichnamigen Berliner Kult-Club gehörenden Label WMF Rec ords heraus. Ein echter Konsenshit, der äußerst komfortabel zwischen beiden Welten saß und genreübergreifend von nahezu allen DJs gespielt wurde.

Genau 20 Jahre nach der letzten Wiederveröffentlichung auf Elektro Music Department (damals ebenfalls im Kompakt Vertrieb) ist es nun an der Zeit, dass der ‘Sucker DJ’ zurückkommt. Wenn man sich Marco Cariolaa’s Cringe Vibes so anschaut, wird er dringender gebraucht denn je.

Neu gemastert, mit neuem Artwork von Daniel Pflumm und immer noch “fucking up your place”.

The fourth release on Samurai Music sublabel SAIBAI comes from Spanish techno mainstay Reeko. True to his long-standing reputation for hypnotic sonics and rhythmic precision, Juan Rico builds on a recent run of activity on Samurai to offer up a densely packed, evocative pair of 160/170 BPM soundscapes. In keeping with the spirit of previous SAIBAI releases, Rico emphasises exploration on both sides of this new record as he draws out continually morphing textures that land between melodic expression and percussive impact. It's instantly clear there's a free tekno undercurrent buried beneath 'Gathering 1' that defines the energy of this latest transmission. The difference is how Rico wields that energy, artfully submerging the kick drum propulsion and letting three-dimensional sonic sculpture beat a path towards the dance. Layers of arrhythmic delay ripples loosen the valve, but there's a constant pressure pushing at the edges of the production from start to finish. There's a more immediate urgency to the mixing of the rhythmic elements on 'Gathering 2' as Rico teases a gabba-like intensity tempered by misty clouds and textural sweeps that soften the attack without sacrificing the thumping energy of the track. Measured and meticulous, bristling with micro-details on top of the imposing presence, both 'Gathering's reaffirm Reeko's current hot streak working outside his usual field of focus.

Half a century after its original release, legendary Lebanese musician and singer Marcel Khalife—renowned oud player and global icon of both music and activism—returns with a new recording. On this album, he reinterprets four of the five tracks from his debut, Promises of the Storm. A bold defiance of time and history.


Why revisit the same album, 50 years later? The reasons are many, but one stands above the rest: history itself seems to be repeating. The narrative unfolds once more in the same dire circumstances as half a century ago, as if time has folded in on itself, returning everything to its starting point. The urgency, the necessity—it all remains, pressing and inescapable. We must begin again.


In 1976, a young Marcel Khalife found himself exiled in Paris, fleeing the Lebanese Civil War and his family’s Christian village, where his progressive, left-wing ideas had placed him under a kind of house arrest. He was one of the few to openly and unwaveringly champion the Palestinian cause. The situation quickly became untenable, especially since, just a month before the war began in March 1975, Khalife—fresh out of the conservatory—had given his first public concert to great acclaim. Then, everything collapsed. What does one do when trapped at home? Read books, play the oud, and turn those readings into songs. In his family’s de facto prison, Khalife began setting the poetry of the great Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish to music. These songs, born of confinement, he carried with him into exile, driving to Paris where a producer offered him the chance to record an album. Naturally, the tracks were the ones he had been improvising at home from Darwish’s poems. The album’s title, Promises of the Storm, echoed the war that was just beginning. Khalife recalls that the album became a hit after a concert at the Fête de l’Huma, where 500 copies were sold in a single day. “Everything started there, and it never stopped,” he remembers. He would meet Mahmoud Darwish shortly after, at a dinner organized by mutual friends. From that moment, a deep friendship blossomed between the two men.


With Darwish’s words and Khalife’s music, the songs of Promises of the Storm are imbued with a powerful evocative force—melancholy, tenderness, and poetic resistance in the face of violence. The album catapulted Khalife to international stardom, leading to endless tours and recordings, yet he never abandoned his commitments.


Now, 50 years later, Promises of the Storm returns in a fresh recording, because history is repeating itself. After the Israeli bombings in Lebanon at the end of 2024, Khalife, who was on tour, found himself stranded in Paris. He remembered a recurring request from his son, musician Bachar Mar-Khalife, who had often urged him to re-record his now-classic debut album. One morning, oud in hand, Marcel knocked on his son’s door and said, “Shall we? I’m ready to record.”
These new versions are stripped down, raw, and intimate—just the solitary strings of the oud. Khalife sings as never before, his voice no longer marked by the fragility of youth but imbued with something deeper, freer, unshackled. It soars high yet resonates low, always clear, as if to escape sadness, to evoke love and violence, desire and exile. In just four songs, Khalife encapsulates a lifetime, and a philosophy of life. Rita tells of a love of Darwish’s, with the haunting line (translated from Arabic): “Between Rita’s eyes and mine, a rifle.” Oummi invokes the figure of the mother as a metaphor for the lost land. Promises of the Storm is a meditation on revolution, the hope for change, the melancholy of defeat, and the power of thought. Passport captures, through poetry, the feeling of being stateless—a citizen of everywhere and nowhere.
Time has only strengthened these texts and this music. History never repeats itself without a valid, indispensable reason for the present. That reason is fully contained in Marcel Khalife’s new interpretations, which have never sounded so clear, so right, so essential.

In the rapidly shifting tectonic plates of the global Afrobeats scene, few arrivals have been as seismic as that of Ahmed Ololade—better known to the world as Asake. With his breakout project Mr. Money With The Vibe, the artist didn’t merely debut; he effectively recalibrated the tempo of the Nigerian pop soundscape. The EP functions as a masterclass in synthesis, pulling from the ornate, percussive history of Fuji music and grafting it onto the driving, bass-heavy architectures of contemporary Amapiano. It is a calculated, deeply rhythmic hybridization that manages to feel both nostalgic and jarringly modern.

From a critical vantage point, Mr. Money With The Vibe is defined by its brevity and density. Asake treats each track as a focused vignette, utilizing a vocal delivery that oscillates between a melodic, almost liturgical chant and the staccato urgency of a Lagos street orator. The production—characterized by sharp, frenetic percussion and deceptively simple melodic loops—creates a high-intensity atmosphere that mirrors the relentless pace of urban life. He avoids the pitfall of bloated experimentation; instead, he doubles down on a "street-pop" ethos, prioritizing accessibility without sacrificing the complex rhythmic interplay that gives the genre its distinctive texture.

Ultimately, Mr. Money With The Vibe stands as a pivotal document of the current era, capturing the transition of Afrobeats from a regional powerhouse to a dominant global force. By blending the aspirational "hustle culture" narrative with an increasingly sophisticated sonic palette, Asake established a blueprint that has since influenced a new wave of artists. The project is a testament to the idea that authenticity, when paired with relentless precision, remains the most effective currency in contemporary music.

FatCat was recorded in a single session-live, with all four musicians together in the same place. What you hear on the record isn't a polished production, but a one-of-a-kind recording of four people playing at the same time in the same room.
This is not a nostalgic gesture. It's a stance. As music is increasingly understood as the output of a prompt, the question of what actually makes music becomes urgent again. Not flawless, efficient production, but the imperfect moment and its context. Not the result, but the process in which four people listen to each other, react to each other, misjudge, and find one another. This fallibility - the hesitation before an entrance, the slight pull in the timing, the glance between musicians that signals a turn - is not a weakness but the substance itself. It cannot be synthesized, because it isn't a data point but a lived relationship: between the instruments, between the people, between their shared history and what emerges new in this one take. The album is thus also a statement on the question of where, in the age of generative music, authorship and art can still be located: not in the result alone, but in the shared risk taken in creating it.
"The question was always: how do I bring my work as a producer and beatmaker onto the stage? How can something that usually happens alone behind closed studio doors become a live experience?" With the album FatCat, Sepalot pursues this question to its logical conclusion: what began as a live performance now becomes the recording itself - the studio becomes a stage for a day, and the stage becomes the definitive version of the album.
The love for electronic music remains, the raw pressure of hip hop is still palpable - and yet everything on FatCat sounds like a fresh start, captured in the very breath in which it was played.
On stage as in the studio, the four characters fit together like a puzzle. Sepalot's signature as producer and mastermind is unmistakable. On drums, Fabian Füss, longtime partner behind the kit and the voice that makes Sepalot's radio hit "Rainbows" so unforgettable. On bass, Robin Jermer. On trumpet, Matthias Lindermayr, multiple award-winning jazz virtuoso with his own albums on Enja Records. And then there's Sepalot himself, who turns it all into more than just the sum of its parts.
The eclectic beats, the pulsing bass, Sepalot's passion for atmospheric sound design - all of it remains, now joined by an element of jazz and captured in its most immediate, unpolished form. The album shows what four people in one room are capable of: a sound born of shared experience, and precisely for that reason, unique.

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

'Church & Raves' is a great title for an EP given the strange relationship between the two. You're unlikely to get many people in the UK who go to both, but at the same time the communion of a good dance is often likened to the joys of collective experience that people feel in their chosen place of worship. Jazz pianist, organist, composer and bandleader Jonny Liebeck brings together a background in both here: 'Dancefloor Motive' and 'In My Feels' run jungle's rhythmic urgency through a jazz sensibility and breakbeats are given real harmonic depth rather than just serving as a backbone. 'Underground Soul' and 'Modal House' lean closer to classic house but with those Latin jazz touches from his debut still lingering in the margins. A thoughtful, well-crafted EP for anyone who wants their music with real substance.

Straddling an intriguing intersection of Drum & Bass, Jazz, Fusion and unidentifiable electronica, ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is the debut album from Jhauk.

An extremely talented multi-instrumentalist from Sheffield, UK, Jhauk came to Blu Mar Ten’s attention when, in 2017, he created a wild prog-rock inflected remix of BMT’s track ‘Titans’
Further conversations with Jhauk revealed the depth of his unorthodox approach to electronic music and unearthed a treasure trove of production skills, culminating in the album before you.

Oscillating between the late-night, moody calm of late 50s Miles Davis, John Coltrane & Bill Evans, the riotous 70s instrumentation of Weather Report, the modern cool stylings of Matthew Halsall and the gritty edges of modern D&B production, it’s scarcely believable that this collection of tracks came from one person working alone in their studio. With tempos and time signatures skittering all over the place, Jhauk uses genres as catalysts rather than containers, he finds the interesting stuff in the hinterlands of their structural relationships and tensions. 

Talking about the album, Jhauk has strong opinions:

“Drum & Bass emerged as club music, and club music comes with its own logic. Specific structures, specific build-ups, a formula that supports that context. 
That's fair enough, but almost 40 years later, why is 99% of D&B still made the exact same way when 99% of the time it's never heard in a club? The same structure, the same formula, barely any development beyond the core idea. Tracks where you can hear 10 seconds of the drop and know almost beat-for-beat how the next 5 minutes sound. No real musical depth or exploration. People regurgitating the same material ad-nauseum but never actually saying anything for themselves. 
This period of composition for me was about taking what I love about D&B, the rhythmic energy and potential for creative freedom it presents and really stretching it to its limits. Of taking drum & bass as a starting point and seeing where it ends up without an idea of what that destination might be. Most people would probably never call a lot of the results D&B, but that's okay because it was never the point.”

 
Dripping with melancholy, euphoria, longing and pure urgency ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is unlike anything else you’ll hear this year. The sound of an artist entirely unconcerned with impressing peers or performing on ‘socials’; you're hearing a true musician at work, expressing ideas through the skill of his hands, mind and ears. The album’s secrets aren’t revealed with a single play-through, but bears (or even requires) multiple listens to expose its layers.
In previous times, they called this ‘art'.

Straddling an intriguing intersection of Drum & Bass, Jazz, Fusion and unidentifiable electronica, ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is the debut album from Jhauk.

An extremely talented multi-instrumentalist from Sheffield, UK, Jhauk came to Blu Mar Ten’s attention when, in 2017, he created a wild prog-rock inflected remix of BMT’s track ‘Titans’
Further conversations with Jhauk revealed the depth of his unorthodox approach to electronic music and unearthed a treasure trove of production skills, culminating in the album before you.

Oscillating between the late-night, moody calm of late 50s Miles Davis, John Coltrane & Bill Evans, the riotous 70s instrumentation of Weather Report, the modern cool stylings of Matthew Halsall and the gritty edges of modern D&B production, it’s scarcely believable that this collection of tracks came from one person working alone in their studio. With tempos and time signatures skittering all over the place, Jhauk uses genres as catalysts rather than containers, he finds the interesting stuff in the hinterlands of their structural relationships and tensions. 

Talking about the album, Jhauk has strong opinions:

“Drum & Bass emerged as club music, and club music comes with its own logic. Specific structures, specific build-ups, a formula that supports that context. 
That's fair enough, but almost 40 years later, why is 99% of D&B still made the exact same way when 99% of the time it's never heard in a club? The same structure, the same formula, barely any development beyond the core idea. Tracks where you can hear 10 seconds of the drop and know almost beat-for-beat how the next 5 minutes sound. No real musical depth or exploration. People regurgitating the same material ad-nauseum but never actually saying anything for themselves. 
This period of composition for me was about taking what I love about D&B, the rhythmic energy and potential for creative freedom it presents and really stretching it to its limits. Of taking drum & bass as a starting point and seeing where it ends up without an idea of what that destination might be. Most people would probably never call a lot of the results D&B, but that's okay because it was never the point.”

 
Dripping with melancholy, euphoria, longing and pure urgency ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is unlike anything else you’ll hear this year. The sound of an artist entirely unconcerned with impressing peers or performing on ‘socials’; you're hearing a true musician at work, expressing ideas through the skill of his hands, mind and ears. The album’s secrets aren’t revealed with a single play-through, but bears (or even requires) multiple listens to expose its layers.
In previous times, they called this ‘art'.

Peach Discs celebrates peak western-hemisphere summer with the perfectly-timed-and-titled "Soft Serve Summer" EP from I. JORDAN. We were delighted when they sent us these tunes, which represent a brighter, housier and more personal side to their sound than many have seen before. Inspired by their recent tour of Australia, the EP (named after the title track that got the ball rolling on the other side of the planet) bottles a loose, sun-kissed feeling across all five tracks that's keen to be unleashed at festivals, beaches and dancefloors worldwide.

Opener "Your Love" boots things off in style, sitting somewhere between Power House and French Touch as layers of oscillating synths, percolating drums and vocal chops take turns in the spotlight – but when all's said and done it's the bassline that gets the flowers, duh.

Things turn a little more introspective on "Little Tinker", as the titular bells sprinkled throughout summon up something…else? Whatever you think that is, the muscular bassline once again keeps us grounded, as washes of dreamy synths lap at the shore and everything is in its right place, before the urgent organ stabs and diva moans of "Soft Serve Summer" pull us straight back to the middle of the floor.

The incredible story that began with The Most Mysterious Song on the Internet (TMMS) now enters an exciting new chapter: Skyscraper, the debut album by FEX.

Skyscraper features ten original tracks recorded in the early to mid-1980s-carefully re-transferred, remastered, and brought back to life. The album cover, designed by Darius S., brings the story full circle. Darius is the very person who preserved the now-iconic track Subways of Your Mind by recording it from NDR radio in the mid-80s. Without him, FEX may never have been discovered.

FEX's debut opens with its namesake, Skyscraper-a brooding, previously unreleased track the band once described as part of their "psychedelic phase." With haunting synth-helicopter textures and deep guitar riffs, it immediately sets the tone and raises tension.

The release flows naturally into the energetic and fully remastered studio version of Subways of Your Mind. This version of the TMMS - re-discovered on the "yellow label tape" by Reddit user Marijn-was long believed to be from a smaller home studio, but was actually recorded in November 1984 at Hawkeye Studios in Ganderkesee, near Hamburg.

Goldrush, first teased in raw form on FEX's YouTube channel, bends toward mechanical rhythm and shimmering synths, a snapshot of the band's experiments with programmed drum machine sound. Rückwardt's lyrics point to greed and criticizes materialism, and while the music leans toward pop sensibilities, it carries a raw, fractured edge.

Heart in Danger and I've Got My Eyes On You offer contrasting experiences-one rooted in classic post-punk tension, the other floating in melodic synth layers. The latter in particular feels like a fragment from a parallel radio history: a precise and one of a kind synth pop love song with a progressive touch.

From a rehearsal tape comes Dirty Slapstick, its urgency intact. Missing keyboard parts were later reconstructed by Michael Hädrich using his original DX7 synthesizer-recovering lost elements without rewriting the past. The lyrics take a wry look at forced optimism. Also included are the songs Talking Hands, Jenny and Strange Feeling, the latter being a slower blues-tinged cut, revealing yet another facet of the band's reach and Rückwardt's songwriting diversity.

The album closes where the legend began-with the original radio recording of Subways of Your Mind from Darius' cassette. This version of The Most Mysterious Song features alternate vocal effects, contributing to the track's enigmatic aura. Digitally transferred using a high-end Revox machine and carefully remastered, it now has its long-deserved official release.

The cover features a photo of the Eichenberg Bunker in Kiel-one of FEX's original rehearsal spaces and a symbolic monument to their sonic legacy.

Antuni (translated from Armenian as “homeless”), Margenrot’s third album, was created over five years. It is a personal statement about fragility, vulnerability, and the search for grounding in a world where conflict has become part of everyday life. Antuni is a genre of gusan song (gusans were Armenian folk singers and rhapsodes) – a story told by a homeless, eternal wanderer, exiled and deprived of homeland.

The album’s title also refers to the melancholic ballad Antuni (“The Song of the Wanderer”) by the Armenian composer, folklorist, and monk Komitas. This work was dedicated to the victims of the Armenian Genocide of 1915. Lusia’s new album is about national identity and inner wandering – between contempo- rary wars and deeply personal, existential experiences. She asks an urgent, personal question: “What is my home, and where is it?”

The album weaves together traditional Armenian chants and chorales with electronic music and field recordings. Breakbeat is layered with conversations between Lucy’s relatives about the fading village of Naokhrebi (an Armenian village in Georgia), while samples of Komitas’ liturgy, recorded in a Catholic church, contrast with fractured rhythms.

Holden's third release on SK_eleven, Dust, showcases a striking evolution of his signature dark, driving sound. Rhythms are as urgent and rooted in the dancefloor as ever, but melodies have grown more haunting and emotive. This release sees Holden charting new sonic territory with two ambient tracks to open and close the record. Opener "Dust" brings melody and harmony to the foreground to set the emotional tone for the peak-time techno tracks that follow, while the closing track, "Frost", ends the EP on a more hopeful note, its yearning melody disappearing into the mist beyond the sunlight.

Returning from an 18-month hiatus, Companion resurfaces with its long-awaited ninth offering – a six-track EP that beautifully distills the label’s devotion to patient tempos and deep immersive moods. The Garden is the result of a remote, cross-border dialogue between London and Belfast: a project born from a seasonal fatigue with the dancefloor and a collective turn towards our most inner states of being. The debut collaboration between Serenity Complex (Wigs) and Aika Mal, the EP is a meticulously detailed exercise in restraint, trading industrial harshness for a lush, subterranean hush.

The production breathes with a tactile, low-slung urgency: gritty, compressed drums and haphazardly recorded beatboxed percussion captured on a patio beneath the Devon sun provide a raw counterpoint to the EP’s cinematic sweep. Steered by narcotic basslines imbued with the brooding, early DNA of Massive Attack, these undulating pulses coil around the listener with a subtle, magnetic pull. They create a state of suspended momentum where tension never fully resolves and instead becomes the point of return. Aika Mal’s voice acts as a spectral anchor – mellifluous and transfixing as it moves in and out of each carefully curated element.

Drawing from the gossamer, reverb-drenched landscapes of Love Spiral Downwards and the gothic opulence of The Golden Palominos, the tracks lean into a slow, deliberate pace. Dub-influenced low end and trip-hop structures form the backbone, while fractured, gritty breakbeats bring a sharper edge. The release traces low-lit excursions into limerence, thriving in the heavy humidity of the afternoon just as easily as in the blue light of the pre-dawn or the apricity of first light.

The Garden celebrates togetherness by blurring two distinct artistic outlines into a single, prismatic whole. It is an invitation to submerge – a descent into the overgrowth.

Magnatek / Gepardenmantel marks the return of Fratelli Malibu to La Scimmia Records, six years after their 2020 debut.

This time, the sound digs into different shadows, shifting toward a colder and more obsessive European aesthetic. Andrea De Fazio and Paolo Petrella leave behind the vibes of their first record to dive into the raw pulse of electronics: a mechanical heartbeat that echoes the urgency of radical clubs, built on tight, stripped-back rhythms.
The vinyl version (12" 45rpm) features two extra synth and drum machine tracks at the end of each side, a treat for DJs and producers.

The digital version expands the project with further bonus tracks, including edits by Federico Gallotti and the dub version by Paolo Petrella.

The Temptations Get High on Psychedelic Soul: Cloud Nine Soars with Ambitious Arrangements and Production, Features Standout Vocal Performances and Instrumentation by the Funk Brothers

The Temptations’ Cloud Nine announced that Motown — and “The Sound of Young America” — would never be the same. Influenced by the emergence of cutting-edge rock and pop currents, as well as increasing sociopolitical turmoil, the album broke down barriers between rock, psychedelia, and soul while heralding the arrival of visionary arrangements and production techniques. Bookended by traditional R&B numbers, the 1969 record sent the Temptations in bold new directions and signaled the advent of psychedelic soul.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45PM 2LP set presents Cloud Nine in audiophile sound for the first time on a domestic pressing. This collectible reissue bestows Norman Whitfield’s extraordinary production with the grand-scale dynamics, natural tonality, expansive openness, and low-end weight it deserves. The timbre of each of the five members’ voices is readily identifiable — even within the group harmonies — bestowing a realism never experienced outside the recording studio.

Making its debut on 45RPM, the album further benefits from the wide groove space by playing with greater separation and more realistic presence than prior editions. Everything from the brassiness of the horns to the dry snap of the snare comes across with reference-grade clarity and positioning. And since Motown’s renowned Funk Brothers backing band plays on many of the cuts, you’ll want to savor every note. The imaging, soundstaging, and organic bloom-and-decay of the notes make that possible.

Amid Cloud Nine, the instrumentation and architecture stand out as much as any element. Never before had a Motown album contained such ambitious patterns and complex passages. Seemingly conscientious of the departure from their past methods, the Temptations and Whitfield bunched together the tracks that mark a deep dive into psychedelic territory and counterbalance them with seven sterling soul cuts that dovetail with Motown tradition drenched with heartfelt vocals, swelling strings, and finger-snapping beats.

On the original 33RPM release, traditional Motown soul — laden with heartfelt vocals, swelling strings, and finger-snapping beats — occupies Side Two. These songs reveal an ensemble still very much on top of delivering pristine pop-soul material graced with romantic sweetness, persuasive insistent, and soaring highs. Re-energized after the departure of lead singer David Ruffin, who was fired for a variety of reasons in June 1968, the Temptations seamlessly meld with his replacement, Dennis Edwards, on one melodic gem after another.

The collective tackles five songs co-written by the legendary Motown team of Barrett Strong and Whitfield. Not the least of which are the smooth, shuffling “Why Did She Have to Leave Me (Why Did She Have to Go)” and deceptively simple, horn-spiked “Gonna Keep on Tryin’ till I Win Your Love.” On these tracks, as well as on a lush rendition of the ballad “Love Is a Hurtin’ Thing” and pleading, tender send-up of the Gerry Goffin-Carole King classic “Hey Girl,” Edwards and Paul Williams take turns on the lead with the estimable Eddie Kendricks, Melvin Franklin, and Otis Williams providing backing support.

All five vocalists trade-off leads on the simmering title track, a groundbreaking composition shot through with wah-wah-pedal effects, liquid funk, deep bass lines, Cuban percussion, saturated reverb, and gang choruses. Whitfield mines each member’s natural vocal range with spectacular results, keeps time with cymbals, and channels both the heated temperatures and escapist desires of a society embroiled in war, conflict, and experimental drugs.

Amazingly, the Temptations top themselves on the similarly revealing “Run Away Child, Running Wild.” Nearly 10 minutes in length, the song explodes R&B parameters and harbors a cinematic scope. Urgent pianos, distorted guitars, stripped-down percussion, steamy Hammond organs, minimal bass motifs, five distinct voices narrating the tale of a boy who fled home and now finds himself amid the scary, unforgiving external world: They combine to give the urgent tune a walls-closing-in atmosphere where fear and desperation reign. Bolstered by an extended instrumental section that precedes a climactic return of the singers’ voices, “Run Away Child, Running Wild” equaled the success of the record’s title track, with both reaching No. 6 on the pop charts.

2025 Repress

Burnski's Constant Black label puts out constantly good sounds for all those of a minimal and tech house persuasion. This 33rd such outing comes from Per Hammer who offers a trio of irresistible grooves. 'Everybody_hz' kicks off with rubbery drums and bass intertwining with each other while wonky synths up top add some tripped-out feels. A Varhat adds a little extra bounce and urgency to this silky late-night hypnotiser and then it's back to Hammer for 'The Danish URL'. It's a hooky groove with warped pads rippling up top while closer 'Arkivo' is a more textural and abstract affair with a nice dubby undercurrent.

SKYLAX RECORDS proudly unveils the final chapter in its monumental 4-part saga — SKYLAX BLACK 4: Enlightenment Theory. This visionary series, bringing together two of France’s most iconic electronic artists — ARNAUD REBOTINI and ACID WASHED — was never just a collection of records. It was a journey through the deepest layers of the underground — a conceptual project where each release was a coded message, each track a fragment of a greater whole. On the A-side, Enlightenment Theory explodes with fierce urgency — an anthem forged in the spirit of Underground Resistance, echoing the soulful intensity of early ’90s Detroit without imitation. It’s bold, emotional, and militantly underground — a future classic cloaked in defiance and elegance. On the B-side: B1. Space Is The Place channels the weightless gravity of dub techno at its purest — all echo chambers and endless delay, a direct line to the Berlin school of Basic Channel, Maurizio, and Deepchord. B2. Beyond Current Biological Constraints closes the chapter in deep space — an electro masterwork evoking Drexciya, full of aquatic melancholy and cybernetic funk. It’s not retro — it’s timeless. With this last installment, the puzzle is complete. The meaning is revealed: R.A.V.E. — four records forming one powerful word. One timeless idea. A tribute to everything this culture stands for: raw energy, emotional truth, sonic innovation, and spiritual depth. This project could only be born on SKYLAX RECORDS — a label that has always stood apart. Uncompromising. Devoted to physical formats. Fiercely loyal to the culture. While others chase trends, SKYLAX continues to chart a different course — one rooted in the sacred codes of house, techno, electro, and beyond. It is no exaggeration to say that SKYLAX is one of the last true purist strongholds of underground music — and this series, with its layered meanings and fearless artistry, is proof. From Redshifts to Blueshifts to Artificial Darwinism then Vision Quest, every chapter has pointed toward this moment. Now, with Enlightenment Theory, the full vision is revealed. RAVE is not just a word — it is the truth. A philosophy. A myth reborn. The circle is complete. The message endures. The legacy lives on.

The Armenian electronic underground has been quietly brewing something visceral. After years navigating the labyrinth of electronic production from his Yerevan studio, Dave N.A. strips away the excess to reveal six raw, uncompromising cuts that pulse with quiet intensity. Not the manufactured urgency of algorithmic dance floors, but the honest tension of someone who’s spent years refining his craft while the scene evolved around him.

Following his debut ‘Altura EP’ on no•id, where collaborations with freq444 showcased his ability to merge Armenia’s electronic scene with Brussels’ underground pulse, Dave N.A. returns with ‘Echoes EP’ after the label’s necessary creative hibernation. This isn’t about comebacks or grand statements. It’s about persistence. About the kind of restless creativity that emerges when you’ve been grinding in relative obscurity, releasing on labels like Uppers and Downers, Typeless, and Elicit Records, slowly building a sound that refuses easy categorization.

The EP opens hard and unexpectedly with “BLINK,” delivering a throat-cutting and all-consuming bassline. “ECHOES” builds around atmospheric sounds and percussive elements, driven by a straightforward yet effective drum sequence. “SHADO” ventures into darker and faster territory with sparse drum programming and heavy sub-bass emphasis. Both “RUSH” and “ORB” unleash torrents of unrelenting breaks, each percussive hit landing with surgical precision as sub-bass currents pull everything forward into hypnotic repetition. “HUNTER” closes the journey, stalking into frame with predatory low-end and razor-sharp hi-hats slicing through dense atmospheric fog.

The no•id ship continues to chart its course through Brussels’ underground, prioritizing artists who value craft over hype. With Dave N.A.’s return, the label reinforces its commitment to electronic music that functions on multiple levels: cerebral yet visceral, local yet universal.

How enduring is the signature song from Harry Chapin’s Verities & Balderdash? So timeless that it became the subject of a 2025 documentary in which artists from multiple generations weigh in on its impact on their lives and craft. “Cat’s in the Cradle” doubtlessly remains the main event on the singer-songwriter’s 1974 album. The legendary opening track also serves as a guidepost for the bold personal and social material that follows — as well as the gorgeous folk-rock arrangements that underpin the New York native’s most commercially successful work.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, housed in a Stoughton jacket complete with a four-page insert, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM LP of Verities & Balderdash presents Chapin’s fourth full-length in audiophile quality for the first time on vinyl. Captured during a golden era for sonics and production, the Top 5 effort features remarkable tonal balance, instrumental separation, and organic naturalism. Those valued aspects come into supreme focus on this reissue, which plays with dead-quiet surfaces and a low noise floor.

The newfound clarity, openness, and imaging underscore the lasting appeal of Chapin’s tender deliveries, soulful timbre, and careful phrasing. Every word comes across with incredible realism, while his underrated guitar playing occupies its own distinctive space. Also notable: The extension of the tasteful string accents; airiness of the backing vocals; depth and shape of the spare bass lines; and width and depth of the soundstaging. When on “Six String Orchestra” Chapin calls out names of instruments, they appear like magic, the band performing feet from you. Chapin has never sounded so lifelike on record.

Certified double platinum, Verities & Balderdash resonated with the times and public. “Cat’s in the Cradle” reached No. 1 on the chart on its way to being inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. The romantic ballad “I Wanna Learn a Love Song” flirted with the Top 40 and wrapped listeners in the equivalent of a cozy blanket. The record’s other single, the mini-epic “What Made America Famous?,” helped establish Chapin as one of the country’s most incisive and insightful commentators.

Verities & Balderdash teems with situational devices and topical matters. Chapin observes everything from the polarization of the nation to changes in moral standards and cultural priorities. He investigates pressing themes without ever turning preachy or elevating himself above the matters at hand. On “Halfway to Heaven,” whose coda races to the finish and ranks as the most urgent moment on the record, Chapin inhabits the mind of his frustrated protagonist akin to an eagle-eyed novelist.

Conveying emotions that range from melancholic to carefree, Chapin is as much of a singer as a storyteller. He assumes the voice of multiple characters within a single narrative. During the quirky “30,000 Pounds of Bananas,” a tale based on a delivery-truck accident in 1965, Chapin alters his delivery, pronunciation, and diction to become an old man reflecting on the mishap and mess. The tempo, too, adjusts to match the speed of the vehicle Chapin describes.

Adorned with timely laugh tracks to reinforce the bittersweet humor, the stripped-down “Six String Orchestra” takes everything up another notch, with Chapin intentionally missing guitar notes or playing a broken passage to illustrate the failures of the hopeful protagonist who doesn’t have what’s required to make it as an artist.

Chapin, of course, did not have any such problem. The lynchpin of a career cut short by a tragic traffic incident, Verities & Balderdash is Exhibit A of the savvy craft, feeling, and perspective he lent to American music.

Pure world magic brims from every groove of this new set of pearlers from the Beauty & The Beat label. We know nothing about Loopico, who is behind the originals, but they blend plenty of Latin, cumbia and expressive percussive sounds into ass-wiggling grooves. Cow bells litter 'Curimbobata', which has stringy rhythms and external synths weaving in and out. 'Maquio' has busy, relentless handicaps and acoustic strings with shamanic spoken words, then 'Upaon-acu' and 'Calma-cara' bring sunny spiritualism to another pair of urgent rhythms. Leonidas lays down hefty, bass-driven rhythms that make these suited to club deployment and open-air dancing this summer.

In the evolving landscape of modern Southern hip-hop, the pairing of Starlito and Bandplay stands out as a unique bridge between street-level authenticity and refined, calculated musicality. Their collaborative project, Not The Country You Know, functions less like a standard release and more as a manifesto—a masterclass in the chemistry between a seasoned, introspective lyricist and a producer who possesses an intuitive grasp of the region's pulse. It is an exploration of legacy and adaptation, capturing the tension between where they came from and where the culture is currently headed.

Bandplay, long recognized for sculpting the sonic identity of Memphis icons, brings his signature, trunk-rattling 808s to the project, yet he manages to pivot here. The production feels remarkably expansive, masterfully blending the raw, stripped-back aesthetics of classic Tennessee rap with forward-thinking textures that refuse to be confined to a single sub-genre. Complementing this, Starlito operates with his trademark mix of cynical observation and genuine vulnerability. He navigates these beats with the weary grace of an artist who has weathered the music industry's relentless cycles, treating every bar like a necessary piece of a larger, ongoing story.

The album’s title serves as a direct commentary on these shifting tides. Across the tracklist, the duo investigates the growing disparity between the romanticized South and the cold realities of the streets, alongside the inevitable evolution of the music business itself. There is no frantic chasing of streaming-era trends or algorithmic bait here; instead, the project remains a stubborn, confident assertion of artistic identity. By weaving together Starlito’s "voice-of-reason" flow and Bandplay’s evolving, genre-bending sound, Not The Country You Know challenges the listener to abandon their preconceived notions of the region, offering instead a complex, urgent vision of a South that is as haunting as it is vibrant.

Harry McCanna is a DJ and producer who might be known to you for his role in running NorthSouth records for nine years with Sam Bangura and Dale Mussington, as well as staffing the decks across the capital for at least a decade and half and taking up a residency at fabric when we came out of lockdown in 2021. Here, he launches a new label, focussed on "the hypnotic, trippy, steady side of things," with his first release under his own name, having released his productions under the Henry Hyde moniker since 2015. Hypnotic it may be, but it's not lacking either in sonic imagination - check the shimmering guitar trimmings, frothy pecussion and vocal flashes of 'A Temporarily Happy Man' - or funkiness, with the basslines to 'Stand & Deliver' and 'Red Moon' the very essence of prodding urgency. Add some sparing but very effective use of neatly edited breakbeats - see the economic propulsion of 'Hard To Leave' - and you've got four track that will slip into the mix very smoothly but come with their own distinctive personality.

There was nothing in contemporary music like Chris Isaak’s Heart Shaped World when it hit shelves in June 1989. More than three decades later, the singer-songwriter’s third album still sounds unique — and claims a backstory nearly as fascinating as the retro-leaning material and standout performances that propelled it to sales of more than 2.5 million copies. Home to the Top 10 smash “Wicked Game,” the set remains a masterful mood piece that invites you to pour a late-night drink, sit in a dimmed room, and relish Isaak’s elegant albeit raw ruminations on love, relationships, and questionable decisions.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, and featuring the bonus track “Diddley Daddy,” Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of Heart Shaped World unearths the staggering inner details, saturated tones, and brilliant atmospherics of the crisp production. It brings you up close and personal with Isaak’s spectacular singing — impeccably controlled, tense, brooding, steamy, smoldering, haunted — situated amidst stripped-down backdrops that allow every note to fully bloom and decay.

While Isaak’s ever-steady baritone remains the anchor, the contributions of his trusty backing band, the aptly named Silvertone, come across with just as much cool, command, and realism. The indispensable playing of guitarist James Calvin Wilsey particularly emerges with superb clarity and dimensionality. The character of his 1965 Fender Stratocaster, shivering twang of his spring-coiled fills, and his signature use of reverb, delay, and vibrato seamlessly match Isaak's patient deliveries and the band’s unhurried rhythms. Experienced on UD1S with ultra-black backgrounds and a nearly invisible noise floor, Heart Shaped World is in every regard a demonstration disc.

The premium packaging of this UD1S pressing befits its elevated status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics. Aurally and visually, this reissue is for discerning listeners who desire to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, not the least of which is the cover art depicting a lost-in-thought Isaak staring ahead and sitting in what appears to be an efficiency apartment. The image epitomizes the record’s lonesome temperaments and pensive themes.

Of course, if not for director David Lynch hand-picking two cuts from Heart Shaped World for his 1990 film Wild at Heart, the record would’ve probably suffered the same fate as Isaak’s prior efforts and gone unnoticed by the mainstream. Despite receiving raves from outlets such as NME, Chicago Tribune, and Rolling Stone upon its original release, the album stalled in the lower quadrants of the Billboard charts and, after a few weeks, dropped off.

Cue the ear of Lee Chesnut. Then the music director for a large Atlanta radio station, Chesnut heard the instrumental version of “Wicked Game” on Lynch’s soundtrack and started airing the album rendition at all hours of the day. Aided by a sensual video featuring Isaak and supermodel Helena Christensen, the song found its way into the public consciousness by early ‘91 and helped make Isaak a most unlikely mainstream star in an era where his techniques had little to nothing in common with popular tastes.

Despite its vintage vibes and shared DNA with legends such as Roy Orbison, Chet Baker, and Glen Campbell, Heart Shaped World transcends nostalgia, rockabilly, and throwback tropes. For all the melodrama and sadness at hand, Isaak’s gorgeously transparent singing dives deep underneath emotional surfaces. He mines subtleties that indicate his feelings go beyond heartbreak and anguish, and occasionally suggest frustration, menace, and anger. You can hear it in his quivering falsetto, and the slow and methodical ways he allows delicate whispers to break into shadowy phrasing that crosses over to the darker sides of romance and desire.

That approach bolsters the title track, which suggests calm yet moves on ominous currents — its simmering pace and snare-drum snappiness foreshadowing Isaak raising the volume and urgency during the coda. The southwestern-tinged “Wrong to Love You” plays with similar concepts of hesitation, unease, and discord, Isaak careful never to fully erupt and give anything away. His poised deliveries offer a master class in the art of insinuation and hurt on “Nothing’s Changed,” sent up with a wordless backing chorus and crackling guitar lines straight out of a Memphis blues joint.

Heart Shaped World further boosts its merit via its abundant stylistic variations, from the upbeat country-and-western trot of “I’m Not Waiting” and Spanish acoustic shimmer of the jazz-based ballad “Blue Spanish Sky” to the swinging horn-accompanied grooves of “Don’t Make Me Love You” and desert smokiness of the understated “Kings of the Highway.” On the latter, Isaak comes across as resigned and absolute. His singing and pain worm their way into your soul, and echo akin to the way the music prepares to strike when you least expect.

“Trouble going 'round,” Isaak croons right as the album begins. “Trouble going down.” Damn straight.

Good Morning Tapes are back with a new album of lushest New Age sound-bathing x emotionally gooey trip hop from Andro Gogibedashvili aka Saphileaum.

Saphileaum has spent the past decade in passage between notable houses of atmospheric sorcery - Mule Musiq, Not Not Fun, Slow Life, Constellation Tatsu - and of course Good Morning Tapes, who now host their 3rd meeting, »Heavenly Hills«. A definitive chapter in his ten year saga, it is flush with symphonic strings and sky born keys, breezily urged by percussion that straddles chill out and folk zones. That said there’s also a Balearic - or should that be Black Sea? - appeal to its title tune, that lingers in the glistening wake of »Your Grace«, to the shimmering breaks of a parting piece »Alarko (Cosmic Eagle)«, falling into the space between Boards of Canada’s cult-inspired hauntological nostalgia and Shackleton’s hallowed ethno-dub.

»The tracks in the album were written with the inspiration of the kingdom of Shambhala in the Himalayas. I’m deeply fascinated and touched by it. Even the album title, holds the idea of its Heavenly nature and the tracks are like individual, elemental parts of it. The album is not a journey into Shambhala, but rather a play and a dance with its energy, image and presence in my world. »Alarko (Cosmic Eagle)« is dedicated to my grandfather, Temur Tsiklauri, and I dedicate the whole album to my country Georgia, which I deeply love«.

Hit the North is a DJs’ movement
Not a label. Not a revival. A discipline.

Over the years, the collective travelled across multiple states in the US and parts of the UK, digging deep into private collections, basements, garages, storage rooms and forgotten boxes.

They weren’t looking for classics.
They weren’t looking for hits.
They were looking for attempts.

Artists chasing something bigger than themselves.
Trying to sound like Motown.
Trying to sound like Detroit.
Trying to sound like the records that saved them.

Many of them dreamed — at best — of becoming a one hit wonder.
Most never got that far.

Some never crossed a state line.
Some never crossed the street at the end of their block.
Some never played outside their hometown.
Some never played at all.

What they left behind were fragments.

Raw versions.
Unfinished recordings.
Alternate takes.
Rejected mixes.
Test pressings.
Acetates passed quietly from hand to hand.

Sometimes with real credits.
Sometimes with fake ones.
Sometimes with handwritten labels leading nowhere.
Titles that didn’t match the music.
Stories that changed every time you asked.

Often, the trail simply disappeared.

What remained was intention.

Energy.
Urgency.
Hope pressed into sound.

So the collective worked on it.

They edited certain parts.
Extended others.
Cut what didn’t serve the floor.

Not to modernise.
Not to rewrite history.
But to unlock the power that was already there.

The result sounds like Northern Soul pushed to its breaking point.
Fast. Physical. Emotional.
Built for movement.

Some circulated privately.
Others were never pressed at all.

Recorded in personal studios, borrowed studios, friends’ rooms, temporary spaces.
Always outside the system.

This is not nostalgia.
This is unfinished business.

2026 Repress

A collection that balances soulful vibes with modern an edge. Saison's "Can't Get Through" opens with deep textures and a classic house swing, while Piem, Saison & Kid Enigma's "Don't Stop" injects vocal fire and raw energy into the A-side. Flipping over, Matt Gillespie's "Need You Now" layers warmth and urgency into his take on the classic garage sound. Closing the record, Scott Diaz & Miss Yankey's "Intergalactic (Alternate Rub)" ventures into more garage territory with its atmospheric pull and soulful chords. A versatile package that brings together established names and rising voices in perfect balance.

Professor Roth's debut EP, self-released on his newly formed label Maestro, is music that feels half remembered. Familiar enough to settle into, strange enough to keep shifting beneath your feet, it lives in that sweet spot where groove and abstraction lean into one another. Dusty textures, hazy melodies and understated rhythms never demand attention, yet quietly refuse to let go. Every track feels like another realm of the same dream: warm, weightless and just slightly out of focus.

‘Daydreaming’ is an inviting first step into the haze, opening the door without ever fully revealing what's on the other side. Gentle movement carries drifting melodies that seem to appear and disappear with every listen. An ethereal vocal breakdown creates the feeling of being quietly carried away from its hypnotic groove before pulling you back under its spell. Patient and understated, ‘The Way It Is’ lets the groove do the talking while subtle details gradually come into focus. Dubby percussive chaos is softened by warm, lifelike pads, encouraging your body to move while your mind wanders elsewhere.

As the name suggests, ‘Swells’ arrives in waves. Layers fold over one another, building and dissolving without urgency. There's a beautiful tension between motion and stillness, leaving the track suspended somewhere between the dancefloor and a reverie. ‘Shades’ is a fitting close that blurs the edges even further. Soft, hypnotic and quietly psychedelic, it feels less like an ending and more like waking up slowly. Content to linger in that in-between a little longer, glitchy samples drift through swirling soundscapes, keeping the dancefloor gently spun until the very end.