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Der Mittlere Westen, insbesondere der Teil, aus dem Eric D. Johnson stammt, ist eine weitgehend flache Weite. Wenn man auf der Autobahn hindurchbraust, sieht man Städte und Ortschaften in der Ferne aufragen, doch wenn man blinzelt, verpasst man andere von Menschenhand geschaffene Gegenstücke zum Leben in der Ebene, die die Landschaft prägen: Hügel um Hügel, erbaut aus den Abfällen der Vergangenheit: Mülldeponien. Einige dieser Hügel eignen sich hervorragend als Schlittenhügel, Parks und Wanderwege. Andere verwandeln organische Abfälle in Kompost. ,The Landfill" ist etwas ganz anderes: ein Berg, der die Landschaft in Johnsons Herzen dominiert. Im Laufe seiner mittlerweile 25-jährigen Karriere unter dem Namen Fruit Bats war der Großteil von Eric D. Johnsons Schaffen das Ergebnis von Geduld und Feinschliff. Seine Songs sind, um einen Ausdruck zu verwenden, Langzeitprojekte, die auf Alben zum Leben erweckt werden, welche lange Zeiträume und Erinnerungen umfassen. "Baby Man" änderte das - er verbot sich, auf Material zurückzugreifen, an dem er vor der Aufnahme des Albums gearbeitet hatte. Es war sowohl ein atemberaubendes Dokument von Johnsons Können als Singer-Songwriter als auch ein ungeschönter Bericht über die zwei Wochen, in denen er das Album aufnahm. "Diese Session war vorbei", erklärt er, "aber es gab noch viel mehr zu erkunden. Mir gefiel die Unmittelbarkeit davon, und ich wollte sehen, wie sich das auf ein Fruit-Bats-Album mit voller Bandbesetzung übertragen lassen würde." Innerhalb weniger Wochen war er wieder im Studio, diesmal mit seiner Band: David Dawda (Bass), Josh Mease (Gitarren, Synthesizer), Frank LoCrasto (Klavier, Synthesizer) und Kosta Galanopoulos (Schlagzeug). Wenn man sich "The Landfill" anhört, stellt man fest: Diese Band rockt. Johnson produzierte die ersten Aufnahmesessions in den Bear Creek Studios in Washington und machte sich daran , "den Sound dieser Band einzufangen, die mich immer wieder in Staunen versetzt - das Gefühl, in einem Raum mit Musikern zu sein, die man liebt und denen man genug vertraut, um sie einfach machen zu lassen." Sie nahmen das meiste davon in einem Durchgang auf - ohne Click-Tracks, ohne zusammengestellte Gesangsparts und mit minimalen Overdubs, wobei der häufige Mitwirkende Thom Monahan zurückkehrte, um zusätzliche Produktionsarbeit zu leisten und den finalen Mix von ,The Landfill" zu erstellen. "So machen wir es auch mit meiner anderen Band, Bonny Light Horseman, und ich war neugierig, wie es bei den Fruit Bats funktionieren würde", bemerkt Johnson. "Es ist sowohl ein sehr persönliches Album als auch mein bisher kollaborativstes." Es ist zudem das live-orientierteste Album der Fruit Bats seit "The Ruminant Band" aus dem Jahr 2009, und durch die Reduzierung der Spuren, die einen Song einer kompletten Band normalerweise ausmachen, ist die psychedelische, technicolorartige Verträumtheit ihres Sounds lebendiger denn je. Die Songs auf "The Landfill" zeichnen sich sofort als einige der besten in Eric D. Johnsons Werk aus, Suchende und Hymnen gleichermaßen. Es ist der bisher gewaltigste Gipfel, den er erklommen hat.

Der Mittlere Westen, insbesondere der Teil, aus dem Eric D. Johnson stammt, ist eine weitgehend flache Weite. Wenn man auf der Autobahn hindurchbraust, sieht man Städte und Ortschaften in der Ferne aufragen, doch wenn man blinzelt, verpasst man andere von Menschenhand geschaffene Gegenstücke zum Leben in der Ebene, die die Landschaft prägen: Hügel um Hügel, erbaut aus den Abfällen der Vergangenheit: Mülldeponien. Einige dieser Hügel eignen sich hervorragend als Schlittenhügel, Parks und Wanderwege. Andere verwandeln organische Abfälle in Kompost. ,The Landfill" ist etwas ganz anderes: ein Berg, der die Landschaft in Johnsons Herzen dominiert. Im Laufe seiner mittlerweile 25-jährigen Karriere unter dem Namen Fruit Bats war der Großteil von Eric D. Johnsons Schaffen das Ergebnis von Geduld und Feinschliff. Seine Songs sind, um einen Ausdruck zu verwenden, Langzeitprojekte, die auf Alben zum Leben erweckt werden, welche lange Zeiträume und Erinnerungen umfassen. "Baby Man" änderte das - er verbot sich, auf Material zurückzugreifen, an dem er vor der Aufnahme des Albums gearbeitet hatte. Es war sowohl ein atemberaubendes Dokument von Johnsons Können als Singer-Songwriter als auch ein ungeschönter Bericht über die zwei Wochen, in denen er das Album aufnahm. "Diese Session war vorbei", erklärt er, "aber es gab noch viel mehr zu erkunden. Mir gefiel die Unmittelbarkeit davon, und ich wollte sehen, wie sich das auf ein Fruit-Bats-Album mit voller Bandbesetzung übertragen lassen würde." Innerhalb weniger Wochen war er wieder im Studio, diesmal mit seiner Band: David Dawda (Bass), Josh Mease (Gitarren, Synthesizer), Frank LoCrasto (Klavier, Synthesizer) und Kosta Galanopoulos (Schlagzeug). Wenn man sich "The Landfill" anhört, stellt man fest: Diese Band rockt. Johnson produzierte die ersten Aufnahmesessions in den Bear Creek Studios in Washington und machte sich daran , "den Sound dieser Band einzufangen, die mich immer wieder in Staunen versetzt - das Gefühl, in einem Raum mit Musikern zu sein, die man liebt und denen man genug vertraut, um sie einfach machen zu lassen." Sie nahmen das meiste davon in einem Durchgang auf - ohne Click-Tracks, ohne zusammengestellte Gesangsparts und mit minimalen Overdubs, wobei der häufige Mitwirkende Thom Monahan zurückkehrte, um zusätzliche Produktionsarbeit zu leisten und den finalen Mix von ,The Landfill" zu erstellen. "So machen wir es auch mit meiner anderen Band, Bonny Light Horseman, und ich war neugierig, wie es bei den Fruit Bats funktionieren würde", bemerkt Johnson. "Es ist sowohl ein sehr persönliches Album als auch mein bisher kollaborativstes." Es ist zudem das live-orientierteste Album der Fruit Bats seit "The Ruminant Band" aus dem Jahr 2009, und durch die Reduzierung der Spuren, die einen Song einer kompletten Band normalerweise ausmachen, ist die psychedelische, technicolorartige Verträumtheit ihres Sounds lebendiger denn je. Die Songs auf "The Landfill" zeichnen sich sofort als einige der besten in Eric D. Johnsons Werk aus, Suchende und Hymnen gleichermaßen. Es ist der bisher gewaltigste Gipfel, den er erklommen hat.

Pon is Tujiko Noriko’s sixth album for Editions Mego and a further extension of her already significant body of work as both a solo and collaborative artist. Dedicated to her cat who she adopted as an infant and passed away due an accident having been born deaf, Pon is imbued with abstraction, tenderness and a deep emotional resonance.

Noriko’s palette of electronics, romantic melodies and surprising sonic details are all fully present here, and like her last full length, 2023’s Crépuscule this is an epic work, released as a 2LP by Editions Mego alongside a Japanese CD release.

The unmistakable hue of Japan hovers throughout this emotional rich landscape. Subtle field recordings and fragile, abstract motifs drift through the album, all cloaked in a warmth and humanity that only Noriko seems able to conjure.

Pon moves effortlessly between the childlike and the obscure. There are moments of deceptive simplicity where unexpected elements suddenly surface — strange voices emerge on Boku Wa Obaka, Knife of Yonder is a standout: a startling ten-minute unfolding that begins with a warm, almost Eno-esque drift before launching into a soaring mid-section and finally landing somewhere unexpectedly blues-adjacent.

Kikoeru Pon is brimming with childlike wonder — a heartfelt ballad that dissolves into domestic field recordings, including sounds of the feline for whom both the album and track are named. A quietly devastating ending that brings the personal nature of the record into sharp focus.

There is a deep sense of the human in the way Noriko embraces technology. This is far from cold abstraction; rather, Ponfeels like a colourful photo album, documenting Noriko’s inner world and instincts with remarkable intimacy. Hovering in liminal states between pop, ambient and abstraction, this is a deeply affective and moving release that reveals new surprises with each listen.

The emotional range of Noriko’s latest offering inspires hope in a world in disarray. It is both gentle and epic and one which we feel embodies the work of an artist fully at the height of her powers.

Als MONO ihr vorheriges Album OATH 2023 gemeinsam mit ihrem langjährigen Produktionspartner und Freund Steve Albini aufgenommen hatten, konnten sie sich nicht vorstellen, dass es das letzte Studioalbum sein würde, das sie zusammen machten. Albini starb im darauffolgenden Jahr tragisch, und dieser Verlust hinterließ eine unermessliche Leerstelle - nicht nur im Leben all jener, die Steve persönlich kannten, sondern bei jedem, der eine emotionale Verbindung zu einem der Tausenden von Alben hat, an deren Entstehung er in den vergangenen vier Jahrzehnten beteiligt war. Er brachte Klarheit in das Chaos und eine selbstlose Hingabe an die Kunst und die Künstler, die ihresgleichen suchte. Auf persönlicher wie auf praktischer Ebene stellte sein Tod MONO vor tiefe Trauer und große Unsicherheit. Albini war zu einem grundlegenden Bestandteil des unverwechselbaren MONO-Sounds geworden, und allein der Gedanke daran, ihn ersetzen zu müssen, war mehr als entmutigend.Und dann kam: Brad Wood (Touché Amoré, The Smashing Pumpkins).Ausgewählt aufgrund seiner Vertrautheit mit MONOs kreativen und technischen Arbeitsprozessen - ebenso wie seiner jahrzehntelangen Freundschaft mit Steve Albini - betrat Brad Wood im September 2025 das legendäre Electrical Audio Studio, um aufzunehmen, was schließlich zu Snowdrop werden sollte. Gemeinsam mit dem in Chicago ansässigen Dirigenten und Orchesterleiter Chad McCullough verpflichteten MONO ein zehnköpfiges Orchester und einen achtköpfigen Chor für die acht monumentalen Stücke, aus denen Snowdrop besteht. Die Band spielte, und Wood nahm in demselben heiligen Raum auf, in dem die meisten MONO-Alben ihrer 25-jährigen Geschichte entstanden waren - die Songs auf Snowdrop tragen daher ein besonderes Gewicht. Abgemischt wurde das Album von Wood in seinem Seagrass-Home-Studio in Los Angeles; es klingt zugleich intim und umhüllend.Wo leicht ein Schatten über Snowdrop hätte liegen können, findet sich stattdessen eine außergewöhnliche Atmosphäre der Dankbarkeit. Statt in Herzschmerz zu verweilen, entsteht eine eindringliche Wertschätzung für das gut gelebte Leben mit einem geliebten Freund - und eine Sehnsucht danach, was noch kommen mag. Snowdrop ist der Klang einer Band, die Schock und Trauer in Hoffnung und Staunen verwandelt - und neue Klarheit im befreienden Gefühl des Nichtwissens findet.

Als MONO ihr vorheriges Album OATH 2023 gemeinsam mit ihrem langjährigen Produktionspartner und Freund Steve Albini aufgenommen hatten, konnten sie sich nicht vorstellen, dass es das letzte Studioalbum sein würde, das sie zusammen machten. Albini starb im darauffolgenden Jahr tragisch, und dieser Verlust hinterließ eine unermessliche Leerstelle - nicht nur im Leben all jener, die Steve persönlich kannten, sondern bei jedem, der eine emotionale Verbindung zu einem der Tausenden von Alben hat, an deren Entstehung er in den vergangenen vier Jahrzehnten beteiligt war. Er brachte Klarheit in das Chaos und eine selbstlose Hingabe an die Kunst und die Künstler, die ihresgleichen suchte. Auf persönlicher wie auf praktischer Ebene stellte sein Tod MONO vor tiefe Trauer und große Unsicherheit. Albini war zu einem grundlegenden Bestandteil des unverwechselbaren MONO-Sounds geworden, und allein der Gedanke daran, ihn ersetzen zu müssen, war mehr als entmutigend.Und dann kam: Brad Wood (Touché Amoré, The Smashing Pumpkins).Ausgewählt aufgrund seiner Vertrautheit mit MONOs kreativen und technischen Arbeitsprozessen - ebenso wie seiner jahrzehntelangen Freundschaft mit Steve Albini - betrat Brad Wood im September 2025 das legendäre Electrical Audio Studio, um aufzunehmen, was schließlich zu Snowdrop werden sollte. Gemeinsam mit dem in Chicago ansässigen Dirigenten und Orchesterleiter Chad McCullough verpflichteten MONO ein zehnköpfiges Orchester und einen achtköpfigen Chor für die acht monumentalen Stücke, aus denen Snowdrop besteht. Die Band spielte, und Wood nahm in demselben heiligen Raum auf, in dem die meisten MONO-Alben ihrer 25-jährigen Geschichte entstanden waren - die Songs auf Snowdrop tragen daher ein besonderes Gewicht. Abgemischt wurde das Album von Wood in seinem Seagrass-Home-Studio in Los Angeles; es klingt zugleich intim und umhüllend.Wo leicht ein Schatten über Snowdrop hätte liegen können, findet sich stattdessen eine außergewöhnliche Atmosphäre der Dankbarkeit. Statt in Herzschmerz zu verweilen, entsteht eine eindringliche Wertschätzung für das gut gelebte Leben mit einem geliebten Freund - und eine Sehnsucht danach, was noch kommen mag. Snowdrop ist der Klang einer Band, die Schock und Trauer in Hoffnung und Staunen verwandelt - und neue Klarheit im befreienden Gefühl des Nichtwissens findet.

Dutch electronic maverick Spekki Webu stretches out on an expansive album for new label Outer Orbit Records, exploring his deep and wide-ranging influences across a captivating narrative of tripped-out beatdowns and evocative dreamscapes. Spekki Webu is someone who was naturally drawn into the magnetic pull of Outer Orbit after playing for their sister party Mizz Softee. As the time-travelling album title suggests, it's a meditation on formative sounds that propelled him on to myriad adventures across the many microcosms of electronic music. That means indulging in slower tempos and crooked grooves, with the influence of trip hop and illbient looming large in the boom bap drums that punctuate many of the album's passages. There is also space for immersive techno that operates as a lighter reflection of the sound he is best known for, as well as hints of buoyant house music, rolling breakbeat, dislocated ambient and intricate electronica. Cari Lekebusch, a key influence, contributes a rolling, heavy-grooving remix that closes out the record.

As the so-called “Latin boom” becomes a new anchor for hard-swung club sounds, it is crucial to recognize that the region’s musical culture extends far beyond dembow edits and the pop-trap hybrids that have edged into the mainstream. Monterrey-born, New York City-based producer and DJ Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, returns to NAAFI with Potpourri, a generous and kinetic collection of dancefloor-oriented tracks filled with percussive flourishes, squelching 303 basslines, and rhythmic mutations that actively challenge the status quo. Rather than rebuilding “Latin sounds” as a fixed category, the album rethinks their internal logic, tracing the evolution of techno and house in cities like Detroit, Chicago, and New York alongside parallel innovations emerging in Mexico, Colombia, and across the wider Latin world. Positioned on the bridge between Mexico and the US, Potpourri does not seek synthesis as a gesture of smooth fusion, but as a site of disruption.

The album can be heard as a loose follow-up to System (2018), Debit’s NAAFI-released EP that expanded the sonic potential of tribal guarachero through triplet-driven rhythms, industrial pressure, and noisy reconstruction. Potpourri retains guaracha as a structural backbone while drawing further influence from veteran DJ and producer Javier Estrada—who also appeared on System—and particularly from his fast-paced, nonlinear style of mixing. That approach becomes a formal principle here: canonical structures are dismantled, repetition is avoided, and tracks evolve without sacrificing propulsion. Coming after the introspective temporal inquiry of Desaceleradas and the speculative historical acoustics of The Long Count, Potpourri arrives as a deliberate surge of energy. As Beatriz explains: “It’s a manifesto for rethinking form and sound in dance music. By stepping outside traditional structures and embracing the potpourri approach, I’m creating new meaning with familiar rhythms. I’ve also been applying this to my DJ sets, using it as a tool to break free from established norms and explore new narrative possibilities.”

Years in the making, Potpourri imagines an alternate timeline in which the psychedelic squelch of acid—echoing pioneers such as DJ Pierre and Mr. Fingers—and the dub-inflected atmospheres of Basic Channel entered into direct and sustained contact with Latin American club mutations. Those references are legible, but never merely quoted. Instead, they are folded into syncopated hi-hats, overdriven kicks, and unstable arrangements that absorb both the intensity of the parties Beatriz remembers from Monterrey and the abrasive edge she sharpened at DIY noise shows in New England. The result is unmistakably a dancefloor record—heard in tracks as forceful as “Pero like” and the peak-time pressure of “tuvesuerte”—but one saturated with grotesque, psychedelic atmospheres, where sounds dissolve into hoarse croaks, acidic smears, and anxiety-inducing growls. Here, the rave becomes not simply a site of release, but a platform for navigating identity, hybridity, and artistic formation across borders. Moving through peaks and ruptures, Potpourri reveals a party narrative that is not linear but multidimensional.

By folding together the fluidity of DJ culture, the experimental charge of acid, and the rhythmic vitality of guaracha, Potpourri proposes a space of formal and political innovation within Latin America’s rapidly expanding electronic music landscape. It is a record that refuses containment, pushing against the templates through which Latin electronic music is often consumed, and insisting instead on friction, instability, and transformation as generative conditions for the dancefloor.

MEGAPTERA, the scientific name of the humpback whale, is also the title of the new album by French producer and composer Rone.


Born from an ambitious film project, the record was largely composed at sea, off the coasts of Brittany and Réunion Island, using a modular synthesizer and melodic sketches developed for an almost unreal proposition: attempting to resonate with whales through music.


Following Room With a View—a soundtrack to a performance created with the alternative dance company La Horde, exploring collapse and rebirth—Rone continues his investigation into new imaginaries. If that earlier work emerged from reflections on ecological, social, and technological tipping points, MEGAPTERA marks a shift: away from the city, toward the sea.


Gradually, he moved away from performance toward a more craft-based approach, extending his practice beyond the studio into a wider space of listening, exchange, and fieldwork. Early footage of sailors broadcasting his work into open water—seemingly answered by whale presence—circulated online, generating fascination, but also a growing unease for the artist regarding what these projections might imply.


This tension became the starting point for a longer period of field experimentation, developed in dialogue with scientists, environmentalists, sailors, and bioacousticians. The resulting 15-track album reflects this open-ended inquiry — not only into whether human-made sound can reach whales, but also into how this process can shape a new form of electronic music, and open it towards new deep-sea soundscapes.


Rather than seeking imitation, Rone works with reduction. Drawing on research into cetacean vocalisation, he pares back his language—focusing on frequency bands, repetition, and suspended structures. Minimalism appears less as reference than as natural convergence.

2026 Repress

Tresor Records is fortunate enough to be sitting on a catalogue of past releases that no other label in electronic music would turn down. Three of the finest in this collection were contributed by Surgeon;
“Basictonalvocabulary”, “Balance” and “Force + Form”, which all came out between 1997 and 1999.
Surgeon’s inimitable combination of Detroit techno and post-industrial sounds emanating from his British homeland found its fullest expression in these masterful trio of releases.
Following the release of Surgeon's first album in 5 years "Crash Recoil" earlier in 2023, Tresor Records have decided that its high time to give these seminal albums another airing.

2026 Repress

In March 2023, Tresor Records will release "Crash Recoil", a new album by Surgeon. It marks Anthony Child's first techno LP in five years, following a period in which he felt uncertainty in his role as a techno producer and found it tough to locate inspiration. This new album encounters him drawing on spontaneous techniques to arrive at unchartered topographies.
"Crash Recoil" originates from Surgeon's recent live sets, where he experimented with constraints in performing and embracing the twists, turns and paradoxes that arrive from this. Each fresh iteration on consistent MIDI sequences and hardware reconfigured tracks into dierent constellations, creating an inspiring vortex of unpredicted events where ideas could flourish. This new approach allowed him to capture the spontaneous energy of his live shows in a way he had never done before. "This is not a live album, since it has not been recorded in one go during a live performance. In the same way that bands tour songs before going into the studio to record an album, I was able to explore these songs and hone their eectiveness during my live performances before creating a studio version."
The result is eight tracks that emphasise a new techno sound for Surgeon, drawing in references from across the musical spectrum. "I can hear Coil, King Tubby, Detroit Techno and The Cure all wrapped up with 30 years of DJing," Surgeon says of the album. Melancholic hum-like ambiences smudge around unadorned, near-droning basslines, crunching rhythm and percolating arpeggiations. The tracks carry unique and potent locomotion, with a low-slung grind through toughened terrains, breathing with a free spirit, untethered by a studio-based perspective. We hear manifestations of the same raw material across the album, like a textural motif, carving new variants and creating a cohesive work full of recollection.

Following his debut 12" on Futura Resistenza, Aukio Sound returns with a new release on Turbo Guidance Entertainment — a deep dub techno exploration rooted in heavy reggae influence, featuring the late Baba Ras. A solemn tribute to a singular voice. Like Rousseau's Tiger in a Tropical Storm, this record paints a dense, dreamlike fresco — where rhythm and texture grow wild beneath the surface. The record also includes a remix by Non Posso, a mysterious duo. Mastered by Carsten Dämbkes and pressed on 180g vinyl for the full listening experience.

Balancing dub techno depth, Detroit spirit and peak-time functionality with class and precision. Parallel 41 Records returns with P41005, a powerful statement built for the darker edges of the dancefloor. On Sakura EP, Manuel Di Martino lays the foundation with two hypnotic originals and remixes that move between stripped-back pressure, dub-soaked depth and raw Detroit-inspired drive.

The second VA release from Méchante Recording continues with a new identity, bringing together a refined selection of artists across different generations. At its core, a reissued and repress of a 1994 track by Jay Tripwire creates a timeless bridge between past and present.

Alongside this piece, UK producers Quidders and Ferg deliver fresh and captivating productions, as well as Arion, a prodigious talent from Lyon, who charms us with each of his tracks and brings depth and character.

This Various Artists blends dub tech house and progressive minimal, offering hypnotic, groove-driven tracks designed for both listening and the dancefloor, while affirming the evolving sonic identity of Méchante Recording.

Mean Streak (Joe Koshin & SSSLIP) chose Suckerpunch as the vessel for their first outing under the new moniker. 4 killer cuts of nasty, freaky & wigged-out tech house. Proper mean business.

Ricardo Villalobos runs wild on Mohammad Reza Mortazavi’s Persian tombak hand drum actions, expanding a 4 min kernel of inspiration into 24 minutes of mesmerising polyrhythmic traction. From an original ‘Swamp’’ piece that practically recalls Ricardo’s style of slinky minimal techno sorcery to begin with, the Chilean-German maverick derives a more driving tract of rough hewn rhythmic grit bound to hypnotise ‘floors for the duration. Accentuating the undulating bass and dialling up the volume whilst retaining the frictional grind of the original, Villalobos gets right inside the groove with typically obsessive tekkerz, plucking out additional string
motifs and tempering the flow with signature, taut but sinuous, loosey goosey flex that cross-pollinates cultures and gets right under the skin of the thing.

Ricardo Villalobos (b. 1970, Chile) is a pioneering figure in minimal techno, celebrated for his hypnotic and groovy approach to rhythm. Raised in Germany after his family fled Pinochet’s regime, Villalobos was drawn early to percussion - he began playing congas and bongos at eleven, developing a tactile relationship to rhythm that would later inform his distinctive production style. Immersed in both Latin American folk traditions and the emerging house and techno scenes of late-80s Europe, he began DJing and producing in the early 1990s, quickly achieving cult status within global club culture. Mohammad Reza Mortazavi (b. 1979, Iran) is a virtuoso percussionist known for his groundbreaking work with the tombak and daf, traditional Persian drums that he has radically redefined through new playing techniques. Mortazavi began playing the tombak at the age of six. By nine, he had already outpaced his teacher and won Iran’s national tombak competition - a distinction he would earn six more times. By his early twenties, he was widely regarded as one of the foremost players of the instruments. Since then, his music has continued to evolve, embracing new forms beyond tradition.

Craig Bratley’s sophomore album, Return To Bass, has been a long-time gestating, with a whisky-like distill time in the musical barrels from whence this came. His debut was in 2014 and 12 years later here he is again, in the blink of a, er, Jurassic age. In that time, he’s gathered a good deal of experience, released several musically varied 12-inches, as well as having Andrew Weatherall remix a few of his efforts (not completely surprising, since The Guv’nor also played Craig’s music).

Bratley has spent the last few years honing his musical and technical skills which are evident on this album, as are his influences, which can be heard on his impressively consistent back catalogue, include Italo-disco, British electropop, acid house and a slowed down version of Chicago house that lends it a heroin crawl. Added to that, though, is the dub reggae sound championed by King Tubby, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry and our own Dennis Bovell, which is much in evidence on this set.

It seems apposite, in the wake of the death of Sly Dunbar (and, less recently, his partner, Robbie Shakespeare) that Craig’s album is now appearing, since Bratley’s sound is imbued with a dub sensibility and the engine of the whole set is built around the thud that Sly & Robbie brought to their greatest productions; the song titles are clues: ‘Plasticine Dub’, ‘Return To Bass’ and ‘No In Between Dub’.

The LP Features standout vocals from Amy Douglas, Thomas Gandey, and Ola, plus funeral-march trumpet work by Tim Hutton.

Introducing the latest reissue from Pacific Coast House. Resuming service with 2 slices of sublime deep, tech-house from Coastal Commission / Jesse Outlaw. Including the much sought after ‘On The Rocks’ - West-Coast house music from a vintage era. These will fly, act fast!

On her second EP "Reality Check", Kuoko continues to make her way and search for her own answers. On the follow-up to her debut "Lost Woods", her electro-pop sound remains mystical and spherical, but, as the title implies, this project sees the Hamburg-based music producer deal with a number of quite tangible, personal and social topics. On songs like "Floating" or "Hiding in the Dark" she reminds us to follow our guts despite the ever- increasing pressures of society and technology . Despite the heavy undertone, the atmosphere remains positive all throughout the EP as Kuoko"s crystal-clear voice floats through the elaborate, ethereal soundscapes that she created. After putting out her debut EP in 2018, playing several live shows - three of them at the Reeperbahnfestival - and winning a local award for emerging artists (Krach + Getöse), the young multi- talented artist now invites us to check out her latest work. Accept this invitation and give it a listen. It"s definitely worth it.

Originally released by Time Capsule in 2021 and long out of print, Stories From Another Time 1982-1988 returns in an upgraded edition following years of demand and rising collector prices on the secondhand market. Widely regarded as a modern cult classic, Mário Rui Silva’s visionary recordings blend acoustic folk, cinematic soul, spiritual jazz and saudade-filled Lusophone rhythm into a deeply timeless and universal work that transcends genre and geography.

This new edition features half-speed mastering cut at Metropolis alongside an expanded 4-page insert with a tribute essay and unseen photographs following Silva’s passing in 2024.

Double LP + 4-page insert

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The roots of Angolan popular music explored in the meticulous guitar studies of Mário Rui Silva. For fans of Naná Vasconcelos, John Hassell’s Fourth World ambient, Eduardo Mateo’s psychedelic folk and Cameroonian electronic music visionary Francis Bebey.

Whether on mesmerising acoustic ballads or hypnotic groove-led tracks, the music of Angolan guitarist, researcher and intellectual Mário Rui Silva has a beguiling, melancholy quality, woven into the dynamics of his deft guitar playing.Rhythmically complex yet supremely effortless, the music collected here stems from three albums Mário released in Luanda in the 1980s that reflect his diverse range of influences, from traditional Angolan and West African rhythms to European jazz and classical instrumentation. It is united by a sense of low-key beauty, whether on the chugging opener ‘Kazum-zum-zum’, the jazz-funk keys of ‘Lembrança Dum Velho’, or the twinkling, late-night poly-rhythms of ‘Kizomba Kya Kisanji’.

Born in Luanda, Angola in 1953, Mário dedicated his life to Angolan popular music. His fifty-year career has seen him live between Angola and Europe, rub shoulders with Cameroonian musicians Francis Bebey and Ewanjé, record the seminal album Angola ’72 with fellow Angolan musician Bonga, and draw influence from Brazilian guitarist Baden Powell.

It was the teaching of Angolan legend and Ngola Ritmos co-founder Liceu Vieira Dias that Mário gained a technical, political and spiritual understanding of Angolan musical culture. In the hands of Liceu, the traditional Angolan semba and kazukuta rhythms of the 1940s and ‘50s helped create an emancipatory sense of national pride and collective agency that awakened its listeners to the racism and tyranny of colonial rule, underpinning the country’s push for independence in the process.

What might sound like the intonations of Brazilian influence are what Mário attributes to the “African rhythms taken by the slaves which gave rise to other musical cultures” around the globe. Instead, this music emerged from a collective instinct to assert a cosmopolitan Angolan identity free from the patronising falsehoods of Lusotropicalism.

“There was a need within me to contribute in doing new things,” Mário describes. “In the sense of solidifying the music of Angola that was the result of the meeting of two cultures, and wanting to value the Angolan part whenever possible.”A selection from Mário’s three 1980s albums, Sung’Ali (1982), Tunapenda Afrika (1985) and Koizas dum Outru Tempu (1988) have been compiled here as a 2xLP release by Time Capsule’s Sam Jacob and Kay Suzuki. Together, they provide a snapshot of one man’s journey to the core of his nation’s music, charged with the search for a culture uprooted by colonialism

Entering the abandoned warehouse full of haze and blinded by the strobe lights, you feel the rush when the bass kicks in. You have no idea if the year is 1996 or 2026, but it doesn't matter as long as you are alive.

Indeed, another batch of forgotten and previously unreleased radioactive acid techno has surfaced on the anonymous, vinyl-only Kilotoni imprint — possibly their strongest release so far.

A1 The peak of acid techno is perhaps found in its most stripped-down form. As the bass line throbs your breath out, you try to chase the kick drum in a game of hide-and-seek until complete exhaustion. It's something you play after the copies of Betty Ford and Sync In start to melt during a nuclear reactor accident.

A2 A ravey or hard-techno-oriented approach is applied to the acid techno formula here. The squelching, pulse-width-modulated synth makes for an eerie yet irresistible call to the dance floor. The snare rolls might just be your guilty pleasure.

B1 The flip side opens with funkier techno that the Voyager probes could bump to in outer space a million years from now. A wild acid line is accompanied by playful chords and beats. Detroit influences meet Nordic melancholy.

B2 The kick drum keeps pounding its way through while a lonely TB-303 is traveling in its own space and time. Influenced perhaps by the Midwest acid techno style, this could be a mid-90s DAT-tape lost inside the transatlantic postal system on its way to the Analog Records USA headquarters.