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Next in the We’re Going Deep label series, he welcomes 4 tracks of completely fresh material from a relatively unknown Italian producer, Davide Tonini. Hailing from the much fabled Adriatic coastal party town of Rimini in Italy, Davide has been shaping and sculpting Electronic sounds for well over 3 decades now. Having first started releasing music under his ‘Wet Basement’ alias back in 2015, his sonic palette traverses IDM, Techno, Deep House, Acid and Ambient soundscapes.

Having spent decades honing his practice, he has both self-released his music and worked with the long standing Odrex Music in Berlin. And there’s something deeply irresistible about his output that screams class and quiet dedication. In his own words, in around 2005 he got into the world of Eurorack and a few years later, Serge Modular. Since then, he’s been totally hooked...

In more recent times, Davide has recorded and released 2 digital LPs worth of material for ‘Detroit Underground’ under his own name, so it seems fitting that We’re Going Deep are now hosting a debut 12” cut – offering up 4 cuts of trademark sumptuousness. Bringing together the best of influences that touch on the likes of Aril Brikha, David Alvarado, Deepchord, Convextion and Basic Channel, he weaves together their respective magic to a new whole point of inflection that is both of this world and the other. All tinged with a warmth and smile that could only originate in Mediterranean climes.

The aptly named ‘A-1’ kick starts the EP in fine fashion as shimmering chords cut through rays of floatingly filtered synthesis, all beautifully dubbed out to a steady rolling kick and neatly shuffled high-hats, with precision bass notes interjecting to add an additional layer of funk. With bliss set to maximum, this is nothing short of genius. Followed by ‘Bilateral’, Davide offers a touch more space and lets the bottom end lead, whilst neatly filtered chords flicker to and fro - seeping their way into your consciousness as the tight drum work brings you to groove mode.

On the reverse, ‘Drive’ burrows further into emotive depths as Davide bathes you in layers of dub and twinkling melodics, all passed through a hazy film of goodness. Rounding off the EP with the deft touch of Distanze Logaritmiche – a soft roller that steeps you in undulating chords and cavernous effects. This is high class music that deserves patience and your attention to reap the ultimate rewards from a true master of his craft.

Originally released following his acclaimed sophomore album, HYBRIDISM finds Ecuadorian producer Nicola Cruz at the height of his exploratory powers. Now reissued on limited editon green vinyl, this expansive EP re-emerges with renewed relevance—blending North African rhythms, ethereal Persian motifs, and vocal fragments that evoke both ancient traditions and imagined worlds. A contemporary take on global exotica, HYBRIDISM is a vital entry in Cruz’s ever-evolving sonic journey.

'Aima’, named after the refrain sung by Igbo girls from Nigeria, creates the illusion that you’ve dusted off a lost LP. The aesthetic details recall expertly produced French exotica from the 70s, an overall feeling of warmth and character rarely pulled off with such panache.

‘Naeku,' in Cruz’s words, is "a sorrowful song in minor tonalities, but with a warrior energy, strength and forward vision: a soul departs, but a new one arrives in the name of Naeku, a maasai child. Not all grief needs to be a suffering; a feeling which I can relate to the place I come from with a Quechua word: Llaquilla - triste, pero feliz (sad, but happy). As always, the 303 adds that heart touching feeling.” If there’s a template for Multi Culti’s ethos, Cruz has synthesized the formula: Masai lamentation filtered through Quechua wisdom with a touch of 303 for the soul.

'Drom Tradisie' is a nostalgic vignette that captures the fantasy of a scenic horizon on a lost beach, a portrait done with the FM domain of synths that somehow associates with tropical imagery.

'Third Eye Dub’ takes things deeper, exploring the fractal realm of concentration, a point where the Oud (played by Nasiri) acts on the pineal gland. This inward journey through the cavernous depths of the subconscious sails on a smooth modular groove that transports the listener across this psychic expanse, a filigree of Persian harmonies (in Shur, to be exact) tracing outlines in the dark.

Finally, 'Kawe’s Dream’ ventures even further into the imaginary spaces of the mind. It is an aural reconstruction of the Tibetan Bardo Thodol, or ‘Book of the Dead’, a sacred text that guides the spirit through the passage out of the body. In Nicola’s words "To paint that depth, I had these Tibetan chants in mind, that I ended up crafting with Ableton's vocoder over a piece of Ayan’s vocals (sung in a made-up language). A few notes, and it gave the gravity I was looking for in the song.” Stuff that only a producer as capable as Cruz could pull off.

Hybridism’s five tracks are sonically diverse, yet all possess an ephemeral quality, a pastoral, transitory feeling that travels through the music - we listen to the sounds pass us by, we might even catch a hook or two, but the feeling is of sand running through our hands, deep, elusive, beautiful.

Dense, deep, drifting in the universe between dream, memory and reality.
Thought-provoking impulses with a philosophical background add an empathetic component to the power of the narrators' words in a charismatic way.
The common thread running through the four tracks like a warm red ribbon is a homage to the freedom of the individual.
A utopian sound clip that tells of acceptance and departure.

2025 Repress
Growing up on the north Atlantic island of Iceland bestows one with an unusual and often intense relationship with light and colour: Summers come with endless days, Winters with scant sunlight yet increased sightings of the Aurora Borealis; the mysterious and awe-inspiring glow across the sky. Channelling these energies, Exos
comes to Tresor with his Green Light EP, a five-track collection of the sort of spectrally rich techno synonymous with the Northman’s 27-year career.
Across the EP, the five tracks fizz and pulsate driving ever forward, making the release’s title a three-way play on words referencing the continuous travelling of photons, the verdant warping of the Northern Lights, and the universal colour for Go, for forward propulsion. Smart wordplay can also be found in titles like Grátt Silfur, a term in Íslenska (literally “grey sliver”) which signifies a tension between two parties, further extending the colour metaphor and dark/light dichotomy found elsewhere.
The digital release comes with three extra tracks that continue the dynamic energy, pushed along by the same shifting, mutating force where the music often feels like voices calling out from the darkness or the shimmer of light as the sun rises across the horizon.
Green Light EP continues this year’s blazing return from an artist who, similar to his output, is never stagnant: ever changing form yet ever moving forward.

Yazz Ahmeds Album "Polyhymnia" (2019) feiert weiblichen Mut, Entschlossenheit und Kreativität. Im Auftrag der Tomorrow's Warriors schrieb sie 2015 ein längeres Werk für deren Nu Civilisation Orchestra, das am Internationalen Frauentag beim Women Of The World Festival in der Londoner Queen Elizabeth Hall aufgeführt wurde. In Anlehnung an Polyhymnia, die griechische Muse der Musik, Poesie und des Tanzes, schuf Yazz eine Reihe von Sätzen, die herausragenden weiblichen Vorbildern wie Rosa Parks, Haifaa Al-Mansour und Malala Yousafzai gewidmet waren. Dieses Album steht im Kontrast zu ihrem vorherigen Werk "La Saboteuse", das von ihrer inneren Zerstörerin oder Anti-Muse getrieben wurde.

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

3volution in the recent past, Divide is like a bridge between old generations and new ones. Its sounds range from Sci-Fi techno to 90's techno, characterized by minimal sequences, heavy drum patterns, and an accurate sound design.
Third and last chapter for the VA vinyl trilogy on R3volution Records called

This edition includes exclusive tracks by the following artists:

- UVALL, from Tbilisi, Georgia. Born there and at the age of 23, he is no longer at the beginning of his musical journey and the refinement of his taste and style. Always on the cutting edge, he has been impressing with productions and releases on labels such as Semantica, WSNWG with Rohad, Float Records, Hayes, MALoR, and many many more. Already well known in our roster thanks to a previous collaboration for a remix, the talented young music producer delivers deep, muscular rhythms in his portfolio and translates this energy into a raw, dancefloor oriented session.

- Operator, there is no need to spend many words to describe one of the most talented and innovative British artists on the scene for a long time, recently appearing on

- Divide co-owner of EvodMusic and South Berlin Studio, with recent appearances on all the top labels on the planet (WarmUp, Semantica, MindTrip, Tremsix, Hayes, to name a few), and several collaborations and remixes for

- PTTRNRCRRNT aka Dave Brody from Antwerpen - Belgium. Characterized by efficiently percussion tunnelling through juggled textures, PTTRNRCRRNT's technical know-how and conceptual intentions can be masked by the efficiency and singularity of his music. Taking techno's tendency to constantly reinvent itself as a priority and researches between experimentalism and futurism. He is one of the artists with the most collaborations within our roster (some of his remixes are memorable), he alternates his productions on our label with frequent appearances on highly referenced labels in the scene, such as Soma, Materia and Devotion among others.

Mr. Computer sees two figureheads of Dutch electronics pay homage to the voice of electro disco, the vocoder. Figi and Luca dell’Orso team up to sing praise of a tool that has crossed genres and styles and give the little metal larynx deserved limelight on their own three track theatre. Rumbling bass is shot through with crisp snaps in the title piece, warbling vocals rising as keys dance in this wonderful collaboration.

Production across the 12” is beautifully clean and sharp, allowing the rich analogue sound and robotic lyrics to be fully appreciated. Of course, as happens with the vocoder, those lyrics are just that shade of bittersweet. That brooding quality is used to full effect by Luca dell’Orso in “Fire with Fire”. A bold and daring melody is countered by a tale flecked with sorrow, the brightness and immersion of synths contrasted by the filtered and fractured human voice. Figi flies solo for the finale. “Moonlight (Vocoder Version)” dips words in a thick mechanical syrup, a story of burning love recanted to moonbeam rinses and bending disco bars.

A true celebration of man and machine.

Zuul supplies pressure control’s debut release, Routine Machine.

Following releases on Exarde and White Scar, the Laik label-head’s signature sound takes a menacing turn. In a departure from his usual output he delivers a grizzly 5 tracker filled with EBM, New Beat and Wave affined floor-fillers; all fraught with tension, straight out of the Kirkstall strip.

Fitting for peak-time, warm-ups and rub-downs, the EP is filled with snarling, left-of-centre bombs. All reminiscent of the golden-era sound forged in Frankfurt and Ghent circa 88-91, with new-school stylings for the modern day working disk-jockey.

Constructed exclusively for dark and discerning dance floors.

You can run, but you can’t hide.

Credits:
All music by Ollie Burgess
Pressing and distribution by by One Eye Witness
Design by Al Robertson
Mastering by Marco Pellegrino
Words by Josh Bayat

A1 - Tidal Realm

Opening with the kind of finely-honed, sumptuous ambience we know and love Aural Imbalance for, Tidal Realm slowly reveals its welcoming arc with filtered breakbeats and a captivating off-beat string melody before analogue amen breaks are expertly chopped and sliced at will for our listening pleasure. Further melodic charm is added as the soothing ambient backdrops rise like a calming mist, blanketing the scene in style.

A2 - Tears Of An Angel

Subdued breaks sleepily laze during the intro to Tears Of An Angel, gently roused to movement by a sombre backdrop of delicate pads and high pitched ambient textures. Once in full swing, the old-school breakbeats nestle perfectly over a deep, earthy 808 bassline while the atmosphere develops continually through a melodic, ethereal landscape crafted with a trademark understated panache.

B1 - Surface Area

Readying for the unexpected, a suitably eerie ambient intro to Surface Area sees Aural Imbalance flex his versatility once more as a stunningly crafted break pattern suddenly takes center stage and immediately whisks the listener on a journey to lands afar. Micro melodies and inimitable pads add depth but make no mistake - these breaks are sublime, and will inspire both the listener and the dancefloor in equal measure.

B2 - Warm Embrace

Closing out the EP we have Warm Embrace, which opens with the sounds of playful fireflies in the twilight, emitting their soft glow through the washes of inexplicably radiant FX. Old school breaks soon enter the mix, constructed with aplomb over a bed of deep, classic 808 bass perfect for the occasion. The breakdown introduces a deliciously delicate melody, adding further depth to the track perfectly before the breaks and nightlife resume their frolics.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Sebastian Sandmann, from Elsteraue in Germany, has been DJing and producing since 1999, honing his skills in clubs and gigs such as the ‘Endstation’ event series in the Leipzig Distillery which resulted in him being picked up by the renowned Leveltrauma booking agency where his obvious talent flourished leading to residencies at the Sky Club, Leipzig and the Tube Club, Merseburg. Sebastian’s music repertoire covers many genres inc. multiple forms of techno, house, hardcore and DnB which has culminated in releases on some insane German labels including “Rage & Error”, “Leveltrauma” and “PsychoDevils Records”.

Continuing with the ‘Limited As Fuck’ series of releases, on our fiercely independent techno label based in
Scotland, we’re getting more extreme than we’ve ever been before with an absolute ‘Onslaught’ of speaker
punishment grade screaming techno. This is Sebastian Sandmann’s first ever solo vinyl release and it‘s utterly lethal. Featuring four aggressive crushin’ tracks to get all them imprisoned clubbers marching
to its accelerated beat. This aint dance music, this is stomp music, and you best not pound on down in front of
anyone when it’s spinning or you’re gonna get trampled on, mark our RIOTous words.

The full digital release also features one bonus brain mashin’ track so you can dive even deeper into your own infernal techno psyche.

WARNING: ONCE THE RIOT SENTINEL APPEARS YOU MUST OBEY ……………. OR ELSE

Credits:

Written by Sebastian Sandmann
Mastered by Joe Farr
Artwork by Nomad

Because of their mix of hellified gangster shit and progressive compositions, I once jokingly called Clipping "Deathrow Tull." Well, it's not a joke anymore. While Clipping's last few projects have been record-long concepts like classic prog rock, their cyberpunk-infused new album Dead Channel Sky is mixtape-like, a carefully curated collection in which every track is a love letter to a possible present. It sounds crisp and classic at the same time. When something strikes us as retrospective and futuristic at the same time, it's a reminder of how slipshod our present moment truly is. Juxtaposing high-tech, corporate command-and-control systems (the "cyber") with the lo-fi, D.I.Y. underground (the "punk"), cyberpunk proper starts in 1982 and ends in 1999, from Blade Runner to The Matrix. Concurrently, hip-hop matured, went through its Golden Era, then melted into further forms: it went from from Fab 5 Freddy to Public Enemy to Missy Elliott. While other genres flirted with it, hip-hop was fickle and fey. Rap and rock birthed mutant offspring maligned by most, and hip-hop's relations with electronica rarely fared any better. What if someone explicitly merged hip-hop and cyberpunk - those twin suns of the '80s and '90s - into one set and sound? After all, both movements are the result of hacking the haunted leftovers of a war-torn culture that's long since moved on. On Dead Channel Sky, Clipping texture-map the twin histories of hip-hop and cyberpunk onto an alternate present where Rammellzee and Bambaataa are the superheroes of old; where Cybotron and Mantronix are the reigning legends; where Egyptian Lover and Freestyle are debated endlessly, and Ultramag and Public Enemy are the undeniable forefathers; where the lost movements of 1980s and the 1990s are still happening: rave, trip-hop, hip-house, acid house, drum & bass, big beat-the detritus of a different timeline, the survivors of armed audio warfare. Clipping are no strangers to sci-fi: two of their records were nominated for Hugo Awards (one of science fiction's top literary prizes), and a novella spun-off from their music was nominated for a third. On Dead Channel Sky, Clipping's co-conspirators include everyone from the guitarist Nels Cline, to their labelmates Cartel Madras, rapper/actor Tia Nomore, and wordsmith Aesop Rock. Diggs is known for intricate lyrics and rapid-fire rapping, and the tracks that Snipes and Hutson build in the background are no less complex. All of the above serves to give us a glimpse of an adjacent possible present, where hip-hop and cyberpunk are one culture. Binary stars are often perceived as one object when viewed with the naked eye. Like those twin sun systems, it'll take some special equipment and some discerning attention to pull the stars apart on this record. As Diggs barks on the fire-starting "Change the Channel": Everything is very important!

Scanning Backwards, Phase Fatale’s second full-length album originally released on Berghain’s in-house label Ostgut Ton in 2020 is now reissued via his label BITE on limited edition pink marble vinyl after being long sold out and sought after. Using the connection between weaponized sound and psychological manipulation as a conceptual foundation, Hayden Payne explores the ways in which music – and sub frequencies in particular – are used to influence thinking and to synchronize emotions and behavior: from military technology to sound systems and the physicality and sexuality of queer techno culture.

Known for his innovative post-punk takes of dance music as featured on EPs for unterton and Ostgut Ton, the Berghain resident draws on his background as both a guitarist and sound engineer to create a heady mix of broken rhythms, noise-, and shoegaze-inflected techno, often at slower tempos. The result is music with space and pace to expand, highlighting the intense rushes of frequencies found in both sonic warfare and functional dance music. Over eight tracks named after a combination of historical and fictional narratives from literature and science fiction, Payne’s rhythmic excursions explore different manifestations of sound as power – specifically within the context of seeing Berghain as an instrument itself. This is also reflected in the album artwork, taken from an early flyer for the SNAX party series and an obvious ode to the fetishization of power dynamics.

In his own words: “All tracks on the album, no matter the style, were tailored to sound a certain way in Berghain – something I figured out through years of dancing in the middle of the floor, DJing as a resident and investigating what frequencies really penetrate the body. This includes speech and high-frequency, brain-penetrating instrumentation and drilling textures that I had not utilized so often before, but which I think also have an effect on thought and memory. It’s especially true in a space where gay and fetish roots combine with music in unexpected ways, almost in a cultish manner. A musical and physical deprogramming and reprogramming, psychic driving and de-patterning, the erasing and replacing of memories.”

Ultimately, Scanning Backwards surveys not only the manipulative properties of electronic music (mantras, loops, subliminal messages) but also how rhythm facilitates both moving and thinking in synchrony; a pulse of coordinated sound- and brainwaves.

The time has arrived for the release of the long awaited EP by LEBA, with the prolific title - Into The Lights.

Carefully and thoughtfully crafted over two years, the legendary record producer of High Power Music, General Lee, teamed up with the magnificent Legends Sly and Robbie, to produce the daughter of legendary Jamaican Icon Toots Hibbert: LEBA.

This LP features 7 songs including a feature from Jamaican Portland deejay Blackout JA, on track "No one loves you like me", which was released in 2021. These songs carry you on a musical journey of time and space, on a dub and reggae background, which soothes the ears of its listeners, and gets them grooving to the bassline of the late Robbie Shakespeare OD and Sly Dunbar OD and Taxi Gang.

The songs paint a picture through conscious words and messages, heavy and spacey instrumentation, recorded & mixed at One Pop Recording Studio Kingston Jamaica by Rorey Baker. An atmosphere that will surely transport its listeners into the calm and relaxing space of reggae and dub music.

Suicide AFTR 7 is a musical partnership forged across two continents. This cross-Atlantic collaboration was founded in Barcelona by New York’s Neud Photo and London’s Antic.Distributed by Runas, a new label also based in Barcelona. New beat and Proto-Wave influences permeate the 12”.

Lean, mean, and evocative, "Soft Geometry" sets the stage with its blend of classic analogue textures and a sound palette that evokes the darker, more hypnotic side of electronic music. Throaty samples whisper through a synthesizer smoke, sodden bass lines throb against scaling crystalline chords.

The standout track, "Interplay", is an instant classic. Lyrics are distant, words ring, “Distant shadows," as snapping snares and warming pulses pull the listener closer drawing you deeper into its hypnotic world. Across the four offerings, a brooding dance floor looms; a
shadowy square of bodies shrouded in fog, pierced by strobe. This track will stick with you long after the music fades, a perfect blend of light and shade. It's the undeniable dancefloor moment on the EP, forever playful, forever bumpin.

"Last Word" pulses with a cold, hypnotic groove, driven by a deep 808 groove that'll get you moving. Think hypnotic rhythms, driving basslines, and a touch of electro grit. Slow, ethereal strings and shimmering synth stabs create an atmosphere of tension, punctuated
by film noir samples.

A sinister seam runs through the entire EP, coming to the surface for “Blind Spot.” Terse percussive patterns and eclipsed synthlines are stalked by vocals stripped of emotion, the mantra of “We are your enemy” encircling to a close.

Schlammpeiziger, who had previously only been known to us for his top hits and T-shirts, burst upon us like a wild boar in search of affection in the middle of the coronavirus lockdown. He nested in our fully vaccinated home, drank our Eversbusch, ate from our plates, slept in our bed (wait - wrong fairy tale) and repeatedly urged us to organise egg runs with his testicles (after some contortions, we gave up trying). Childish faecal humour, far-fetched obs(t)enities, juicing, a desire to dissolve, composting of thoughts. In excesses of lack of concentration, the chains of associations curled and meandered like Jo's famous curlicue drawings. Every evening, after we had forcibly levered him out of our flat, he would ‘walk’ home to put together very unique , dreamy pieces. In the blissful brainfog of those days, for example, ‘Handicapfalter’ was created, for which the congenial °Bär° made our flat into the corresponding video. Among other quirks of the little gut-breather, we were fascinated to observe his phobia of literature and books. Just hold a printed page in front of his face for a few seconds and he writhes on the floor crying. A level of phobia that only my own laughable disgust and fear of writing myself can compete with. Jo shudders at the thought of reading sentences that build on each other in a meaningful way, and I shudder at the thought of having to write them down because I have something ‘to say’. A certain affinity cannot be denied. We are much, much more pleased by snatched-up, misunderstood or misheard snippets, hollow but unforgettable phrases, the diamond stoner humour of our ancestors. ‘From one turn/ I stop/ to walk on/ in all directions’ (as it murmurs in “Selten Gesehenes”), describes the process quite nicely. After all, Jo is ahead of me in that he can simply break off every tedious sentence and let it fade into music. Back to the essentials. It's five to 12 for the Schlammpeitzger (scientifically Misgurnus). The shy goby is under threat from climate change, so perhaps this vinyl is the last expression of life of the specimen that we have been allowed to look after sporadically since the lockdown phase of the corona epidemic. And it's turned out pretty. Even the aesthetically gutted like me and my beloved husband can THINK about sex when they see these sublime, silvery fart bubbles! It's tender as a fart. Make love!!!!!

Schamlose Dubtöse: Do you have words. Do you have sounds. Impertinently harmless piano tinkling turns into tugging zounds of increasing severity. It is not dubbed (would be unethical) but dubbed. Sounds dubby, as you can imagine. (Instrumental)

Loch ohne Licht: Possibly vaguely misogynistic. Could also be that there was simply no light in the hole. The sparse snippet of lyrics (‘du biss mir och esu e Loch ohne Licht’) sounds like one of those stroppy Cologne replicas whose anti-charm is hard to resist. Buzzing and grooving.

Selten Gesehenes: Casual. Confident. Soft. Fragrant. Thoughtful but lively.

The Arabian Vietmanese (instrumental) is probably the food we trust in the case of the munchies we get when we watch other people smoking weed. Transcendental and psychedelic states casually permeate the humdrum of everyday life. Klar Knuspermarsch: Marches and floats at the same time. Klebt Runner: Soundtrack to the cult film of the same name. Tyrrell Corporation loosens up. Ungenutzte Sätze: Stinks somehow, because there is dangerous proximity to comprehensible and then also critical statements here. Instead, the sinister electronic cheapness of Carpenter soundtracks can be heard. Parzipan: Actually, the time of origin was not so roaringly funny and simple, but for Jo it was also a gruelling, slow letting go of his brother. Here he sends him off with a gentle nudge into the vastness of a hopefully happy beyond.

Clara Drechsler

Schlammpeiziger, der uns bislang nur durch seine Top-Hits und seine T-Shirts bekannt gewesen war, brach mitten im Corona-Lockdown über uns herein wie ein wilder Eber auf der Suche nach Zuwendung. Er nistete sich in unserem durchgeimpften Zuhause ein, trank unseren Eversbusch, aß von unseren Tellerchen, schlief in unserem Bettchen (Moment - falsches Märchen) drängte uns wiederholt dazu, mit seinen Hoden Eierlauf zu veranstalten (nach Verrenkungen gaben wir den Versuch auf). Kindischer Fäkalhumor, weit hergeholte Obs(t)zönitäten, Entsaftung, Auflösungswunsch, Gedankenkompostierung. In Exzessen der Konzentrationsschwäche ringelten, kringelten und schlängelten sich die Assoziationsketten wie bei Jos berühmten Kringel-Schlängel-Zeichnungen. Jeden Abend, nachdem wir ihn gewaltsam aus unserer Wohnung gehebelt hatten, „ging“ er dann heim, um dort sehr eigene, verträumte Stücke zusammenzubasteln. Im seligen Brainfog dieser Tage entstand z.B. „Handicapfalter“, für das der kongeniale °Bär° aus unserer Wohnung das entsprechende Video machte. Neben anderen Marotten des kleinen Darmatmers beobachteten wir fasziniert seine Literatur- bzw. Bücherphobie. Halt ihm nur sekundenlang eine bedruckte Seite vors Gesicht, und er windet sich weinend am Boden. Ein Grad an Phobizität, mit dem sich nur meine eigene lachhafte Abscheu und Angst vor dem Selberschreiben messen kann. Jo schaudert beim Gedanken, sinnvoll aufeinander aufbauende Sätze lesen, mir wiederum beim Gedanken, sie hinschreiben zu müssen, weil ich irgendetwas „zu sagen“ habe. Eine gewisse Verwandtschaft ist nicht zu leugnen. Viel, viel mehr freuen uns aufgeschnappte, falsch verstandene oder misshörte Fetzen, hohle, aber unvergessliche Phrasen, der diamantene Kifferhumor unserer Vorfahren. „Aus einer Drehung/bleibe ich stehen/ um in alle Richtungen/weiter zu gehen“ (wie es in „Selten Gesehenes“ raunt), beschreibt den Prozess schon ganz schön. Immerhin hat Jo mir voraus, dass er jeden leidigen Satz einfach abbrechen und in Musik ausplempern lassen darf. Zurück zum Wesentlichen. Es ist fünf vor 12 für den Schlammpeitziger (wissenschaftlich Misgurnus). Die scheue Grundel ist von Klimawandel bedroht, vielleicht haltet ihr mit diesem Vinyl also die letzte Lebensäußerung des Exemplars in Händen, das wir seit der Lockdownphase der Corona-Epidemie sporadisch betreuen durften. Und die ist hübsch geworden. Selbst aus ästhetischer Erwägungen Entdarmte wie ich und mein geliebter Mann, können bei diesen sublimen, silberhellen Pupsbläschen DENNOCH an Sex denken! It´s zart as a fart. Make love!!!!!

Schamlose Dubtöse: Hast du Worte. Hast du Töne. Impertinent harmloses Klavierplätschern geht über in ziepende Zounds von zunehmender Strenge. Es wird nicht domptiert (wäre unethisch) sondern dubtiert. Klingt dubtig, wie ihr euch vorstellen könnt. (Instrumental)

Loch ohne Licht. Möglicherweise vage misogyn. Könnte auch sein, dass im Loch einfach kein Licht war. Das sparsame Textfetzchen („du biss mir och esu e Loch ohne Licht“) klingt nach einer jener pampigen kölschen Repliken, deren Anticharme man sich schwer entziehen kann. Schwirrt und groovt.

Selten Gesehenes: Lässig. Souverän. Softig. Duftig. Nachdenklich aber beschwingt.

Beim Arabischen Vietmanesen (Instrumental) gibt es wahrscheinlich die Speise unseres Vertrauens im Falle der Munchies, die wir kriegen, wenn wir anderen Leuten beim Kiffen zusehen. Transzendentale und psychedelische Zustände durchziehen beiläufig den schnöden Alltag. Klar Knuspermarsch: Marschiert und schwebt zugleich.

Klebt Runner: Soundtrack zum gleichnamigen Kultfilm. Tyrrell Corporation macht sich locker. Ungenutzte Sätze: Stinks irgendwie, weil hier gefährliche Nähe zu nachvollziehbarer und dann auch noch kritischer Aussage gegeben ist. Dafür klingt die sinistre elektronische Billigkeit von Carpenter-Soundtracks an.

Parzipan: Eigentlich war die Entstehungszeit gar nicht so brüllend lustig und einfach, sondern für Jo auch ein zermürbendes, langsames Loslassen des Bruders. Hier schickt er ihn mit sanftem Schubs hinaus in die Weiten eines hoffentlich schönen Jenseits.

Clara Drechsler
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Following a fallow 2023, a rejuvenated Growing Bin return to your turntable with this sublime collaborative LP from Gosha Martynov & Natasha Sinyakova. On their first foray into the physical, the duo expand the spectral ambience and medicated breaks of their earlier work with lithe touches of organic jazz and Cafe Del Mar cool, creating a complex assemblage of dreamy downbeat and emotive electronica that's entirely easy on the ears.

Opener "Pozhaluysta" seduces with smart syncopation and beguiling melody, its flute and fretwork finding ample space to slip around Natasha's voice, equal parts Cocteau operatics and jazz-club coquette, in an expression of a want beyond words. The mood shifting "Osvobodi Menia" sees the solemn, snaking sound of a sampled duduk drift into an optimism of airy pads and escapist mantra, suspended in reverb until the end of time. "Ya Tebia Zhdala" began life as a break-led experiment, gradually evolving into a romantic and naive sketch rich with splashes of piano and dynamic chorus pads. Naturalist hymn "O Dereve" weaves a dark and intimate tale from the point of view of a veteran tree as its buzzsaw guitar loops blossom into multilayered vocals full of emotion.

Awash with sonar sweeps, sumptuous pads and rolling subs, the titular "Imena Rek" channels post-rave bliss into the hypnagogic anthem the contemporary IDM-ographic have been searching for. Infectious hooks and spaced out pads ride the breakbeat rhythm for a dreamy experimental pop banger from another planet. The sombre sway of "Rany", filtered through the fog of a broken cassette recorder, trance djembe and unpredictable bass tones rivals the finest Motion Ward or In:dex releases for crepuscular charm, while "Smeshno" sees serrated drones sink into a slinking rhythm, playing counterpoint to the tender chords and yearning vocals.

"Iskra" closes out the chiasmus with a return to the organic experience of the opener, the flute and acoustic guitar augmented with nuanced hand percussion and a music box refrain. Listening to this album is like a midnight walk through an ancient forest - an experience which both scares and tempts you at the same time. From touching damp moss to feeling the thick fog with your body and watching mushrooms glow in the dark, 'Imena Rek' guides you through the terrain.

Flawlessly arranged and executed, this LP alludes to a long lineage of innovative downbeat, feels absolutely essential in the present and pushes the trip hop revivalists towards a fascinating future - Gosha Martynov & Natasha Sinyakova have created a timeless piece of music,
but what else do you expect from the Bin?

Michael Mayer albums don’t come round too often, which is one of many reasons why his fourth collection, The Floor Is Lava, is a genuine event. It’s been eight years since his last one, the collaborative & released on !K7; its predecessors, Mantasy (2012) and Touch (2004), took their sweet time, too. It’s no real surprise, given the many hats Mayer wears – globetrotting DJ, revered remixer, inveterate collaborator, and boss of both Kompakt and Imara – that his solo productions are relatively sparing. But this also speaks to their quality: Mayer’s name on a record sleeve is a sign of quality, of music that’s both looking to the future and calling back to the past, that balances the imperatives of the dancefloor and the loungeroom, that’s as exploratory as it is functional.

On The Floor Is Lava, Mayer seems to be taking the temperature of both the music that surrounds him (past and present), and the ides of the industry he works within. There’s that iconic album title, for a start. “The album’s mindset,” he says, reflecting on those four words together. For Mayer, it’s partly a critique of the way the industry boxes in both producer and listener, focuses them on genre, on market, on the next new thing: “Being a free minded spirit that transcends genres has become an uphill battle.” A battle worth fighting, though, and with The Floor Is Lava, the result is an album that’s varied, quixotic, idiosyncratic, charming, and deeply, addictively listenable.

Throughout, Mayer finds thrills in exploration and juxtaposition, allowing unexpected things to blossom and giving them their life, their platform, throwing the listener exciting curveballs: “It’s a DJ album by a DJ that’s easily bored.” Either easily bored, or endlessly curious, The Floor Is Lava is rich with ideas. It opens with “The Problem”, which looks back to look forward, embracing the rickety way early house productions threw samples together with gleeful abandon. Mayer mentions Pal Joey, and the scene around Rockers Hi-Fi and their Different Drummer imprint, as reference points, and you can hear that freewheeling spirit throughout.

It’s followed by “Vagus”, a slinky, sensual minimal house number that Mayer describes as his “musical catnip”. The flow of these two opening cuts defines the dynamic of The Floor Is Lava, defining the dialectical drive at its core: thesis and antithesis leads to synthesis, but with a welcome prickliness that means you’re always excited, always engaged. It’s also productive in the way it derives energy from rubbing genres and sounds against each other, in unexpected ways, for maximum musical frisson. There’s psychedelic techno on “Feuerstuhl”, more minimal techno with “Ardor” (Mayer mentions ‘Immer 1’ era 90s minimal as inspiration), slippery, Shepard-tone breakbeat through “Sycophant”, a lovely, lush vocal turn on the poppy “The Solution”.

The album closes with the melancholy “Süßer Schlaf”, where Mayer sets a poem by Goethe to one of his most haunted, moving pieces of music yet, in abstract tribute to a lost friend. It’s one of the most affecting moments on The Floor Is Lava. There’s also an update on 2020’s wild Brainwave Technology EP, with the surrealist glitter-stomp of “Brainwave 2.0” (check out those handclaps!),where Mayer’s thinking about the socio-political precipice of the now: “I’m reading with great interest about this whole complex of how humanity is about to cross so many lines and the implications that the resulting financial and educational inequality will bring.”

That’s The Floor Is Lava: then and now, brainwaves and nerve structures, problems and solutions, genres on fire; the real, the unreal, and the surreal. An album for the easily bored and the endlessly curious. Mayer has the last word, telling us all you need to know about the album’s spirit: “Burning for the cause, being zealous, being addicted to the heat of the night, the exuberant powers of music.”

Michael Mayer veröffentlicht nicht oft Alben, was einer von vielen Gründen ist, warum ‘The Floor Is Lava’ ein echtes Ereignis ist. Es sind acht Jahre vergangen seit seinem letzten Werk, dem Kollaborationsalbum &, das auf !K7 erschien; seine Vorgänger, Mantasy (2012) und Touch (2004), ließen ebenfalls auf sich warten. Es überrascht nicht wirklich, da Mayer viele Rollen gleichzeitig erfüllt – weltreisender DJ, vielbeschäftigter Remixer, unermüdlicher Kollaborateur und Chef von sowohl Kompakt als auch Imara – weshalb seine Solo-Produktionen eher sparsam ausfallen. Doch das spricht auch für deren Qualität: Ein Album mit Mayers Namen auf dem Cover steht für Qualität, für Musik, die sowohl in die Zukunft blickt als auch auf die Vergangenheit verweist, die das Gleichgewicht zwischen den Anforderungen des Dancefloors und des Wohnzimmers hält, die genauso erforschend wie funktional ist.

Auf The Floor Is Lava scheint Mayer sowohl die Musik um ihn herum (vergangen und gegenwärtig) als auch die Strömungen der Branche, in der er arbeitet, zu reflektieren. Da wäre zunächst der ikonische Albumtitel. „Die Grundhaltung des Albums“, sagt er, drückt sich in diesen vier Worte aus. Für Mayer ist es teilweise eine Kritik daran, wie die Industrie sowohl Produzenten als auch Hörer in Schubladen steckt, sie auf Genres, auf den Markt und auf das nächste große Ding fokussiert: „Ein freier Geist zu sein, der Genres überschreitet, ist zu einem steinigen Weg geworden.“ Ein Kampf, der sich jedoch lohnt, und mit The Floor Is Lava ist das Ergebnis ein Album, das vielfältig, eigenwillig, charmant und tiefsinnig, aber auch süchtig machend ist.

Im gesamten Album findet Mayer Freude an der Erforschung und Gegenüberstellung von Stilen, lässt unerwartete Dinge erblühen und gibt ihnen Raum, überrascht den Hörer mit spannenden Wendungen: „Es ist ein DJ-Album von einem DJ, der sich schnell langweilt.“ Entweder langweilt er sich schnell oder er ist unendlich neugierig – The Floor Is Lava ist reich an Ideen. Es beginnt mit „The Problem“, das in die Vergangenheit blickt, um nach vorne zu schauen, und die wilde Art, wie frühe House-Produktionen Samples mit fröhlicher Unbekümmertheit zusammenwarfen, aufgreift. Mayer nennt Pal Joey und die Szene um Rockers Hi-Fi und ihr Label Different Drummer als Referenzpunkte, und dieser freie Geist zieht sich durch das gesamte Album.

Es folgt „Vagus“, eine sinnliche Minimal-House-Nummer, die Mayer als seine „musikalische Katzenminze“ beschreibt. Der Fluss dieser beiden Eröffnungstracks definiert die Dynamik von The Floor Is Lava und den dialektischen Antrieb im Kern: These und Antithese führen zu einer Synthese, jedoch mit einer willkommenen Schärfe, die dafür sorgt, dass man immer aufgeregt und engagiert bleibt. Zudem gewinnt das Album Energie, indem es Genres und Klänge auf unerwartete Weise aneinanderreibt, um maximalen musikalischen Nervenkitzel zu erzeugen. Es gibt psychedelischen Techno in „Feuerstuhl“, mehr Minimal Techno mit „Ardor“ (Mayer erwähnt ‘Immer’ Ära Minimal als Bezugspunkt), gleitenden Shepard-Ton-Breakbeat in „Sycophant“ und einen lieblichen, üppigen Vocal-Auftritt im poppigen „The Solution“.

Das Album schließt mit dem melancholischen „Süßer Schlaf“, in dem Mayer ein Gedicht von Goethe vertont und eine seiner bisher eindringlichsten und bewegendsten musikalischen Kompositionen schafft, als abstrakten Tribut an eine verschiedene Freundin. Es ist einer der ergreifendsten Momente auf The Floor Is Lava. Ebenfalls gibt es ein Update der wilden Brainwave Technology-EP von 2020, mit dem surrealistischen Glitzer-Stampfer „Brainwave 2.0“ (hör dir diese Handclaps an!), in dem Mayer über den sozio-politischen Abgrund der Gegenwart nachdenkt: „Ich lese mit großem Interesse über diesen ganzen Komplex, wie die Menschheit dabei ist, so viele Grenzen zu überschreiten und welche Auswirkungen die daraus resultierende finanzielle und bildungstechnische Ungleichheit haben wird.“

Das ist The Floor Is Lava: Damals und heute, Gehirnwellen und Nervengeflechte, Probleme und Lösungen, brennende Genres; das Reale, das Unreale und das Surreale. Ein Album für die schnell Gelangweilten und die unendlich Neugierigen. Mayer hat das letzte Wort und sagt uns alles, was wir über den Geist des Albums wissen müssen: „Brennen für die Sache, leidenschaftlich sein, süchtig nach der Hitze der Nacht, den überschwänglichen Kräften der Musik.“

Uniquely personal, yet gently relatable…

Istanbul-based drummer and composer Danae Palaka’s first album “Velox” is a retrospective journey into the artist’s own roots.

Born in Athens to a musical family partially hailing from Istanbul, Danae’s relocation to the city of her ancestry in 2021 became a key influence in the creation of Velox.

Produced in a collaborative effort with producer Nikos Dervisis, Velox showcases Danae’s dense and energetic drumming style, influenced by Afrobeat and Anatolian rhythms, contemporary jazz and electronic music.

Developed by Palaka’s necessity to perform solo with a drum-kit and a sampler, the album wraps you with complex rhythms, evolving textures and polyphonies that resemble some vaguely remembered childhood memories, tales told by the elders and Danae’s exploration of her family roots, as well as her own personal experiences with Istanbul’s multi-layered structure intertwining past and present throughout its 8 track course.

In Danae’s own words: “This album is built on feelings and thoughts about places, memories, animas and circumstances and aspires to transmit certain feelings to the listener; a superpower I wish I had since I was little. Each song is a small universe of its own but also part of a whole. Velox is a sphere, a glowing warm star that I hold in my palms, whose energy expands when loved and supported.”

Open Space is proud to present our first ever full-length LP by LA’s newest 3-man band, Puli. Some words from our dear friend Matt McDermott below:

In recent years, a cadre of musicians from the east side of Los Angeles have reestablished the city of angels as the first city of Balearica. Alex Ho’s “Move Through It” followed in the lumbering footsteps of Project Sandro’s “Blazer.” Now, there’s a new landmark for the floating west coast sound. Swirling, the first album from LA supergroup Puli.

If you’ve got your ear to the ground you know the names involved here. Drummer and producer Damon Palermo’s pedigree stretches back a good 15 years or so, starting off with dub punks Mi Ami. Phil Cho is one of the busiest DJs, musicians and advocates for the deep stuff in LA, throwing legendary hillside parties under the Third Place banner. John Jones, the preternaturally talented guitarist and electronic tinkerer, records as AV Moves, is a key member of the Suzanne Kraft and Baba Stiltz live configurations and plays in The Trilogy Tapes-affiliated act Geo Rip.

But this listing of personnel and credentials puts too fine a point on it. Puli are three close friends who go to parties, DJ and get tacos together, repairing to their Chinatown studio a few times a week and coming out with remarkably textured, idiosyncratic downtempo jams. Building off the solid foundation of their 7-inch of heavyweight dubs for Melbourne’s Constant Delay, Swirling is an exploration of new horizons in chill out.

“Ramona” acts a statement of purpose—with halftime/double-time dub-tinged rhythms, hazy yet bright synth motifs and atmospheric guitar from Jones, not terribly far from the expansive approach of Japanese dub aesthetes Pecker. “Cloudy,” meanwhile, is a sort of deconstructed and bittersweet Balearic pop featuring Cho’s ethereal vocals. “Bongo Springs” is steppers’ house not far from close LA peer Benedek or the Mood Hut crew up north.

But what truly sets this record apart is the space and layers in the production—while it’s nominally an electronic record, Puli is a band that has slowly crafted these songs in the rehearsal space. “Havana Jam” cruises along a sliding roundwound bass guitar take with dubby chords and textural guitars. Palermo’s hand drums and live percussion enmesh perfectly with icy pads on “Leech Seed Dub.” Cho is back on the mic for the gorgeous closer, “C.S.B.”, underpinned by breakbeat and trunk-rattling sub bass. Puli doesn’t sound like anyone else, and is ultimately reflective of the city itself. Listening to Swirling feels like navigating a warren of side streets in the eternal sunshine. Take the drive and dive.