MUSIC

Great little record here from Brisbane based Drew Id. "Intersteller Dub" on the A-side is a real corker that combines the driving bass weight of steppers with the spacey atmospherics of dub techno, all tied together with some spectacular Tubby-esque mixing desk prowess. Then flip it over for the the more meditative delights of "Aphid Steppa" which slows the pace and brings in some dreamy guitar and melodic melodies.

Another massive offering from the one and only Mick Harris, continuing on in his Culvert Dubs Sessions experimentations with a new 2xlp. Once again Mick delves deep into the shadow realm of slow beat, psychedelic heavily textured, grinding dub techno. Eight tracks of absolute industrialized, delay swept, full pressure, sound system shaking murk ridden, dark water dubs. Top form work when Mick lets loose in this wild style, just the right balance of beauty, restraint and brutality. Total heavy weight music!

Originally released in 1999 on the German sound‑minimalism stronghold ~scape, Kit Clayton’s debut album Nek Sanalet stands as a landmark work of minimal dub and clicks & cuts.

"Robin Stewart regrows dub techno from the seeds on 'Crinkle', following 2023's 'When A Worm Wears A Wig' with a set of twisted warehouse melters that apply advanced dub logic to pointillistic technoid rhythms. RIYL Rhyw, Peder Mannerfelt or Rrose.

Think about dub techno for a moment and it's not hard to imagine a very specific aesthetic - something that began with Basic Channel in the '90s and plateaued only a few years later. This was just one application, though; not only has techno mutated in the last few decades, but there's more to dub than bussed tape echo and snatched stabs. Bristol-based Stewart goes back to the source here, considering the way his favorite vintage dub records hit physically, not just how they sound on the surface. It's not an easy mental leap to make, considering the trade up you need to make when you prioritize soft, warm bass throbs over the kind of ear-bleed kicks you'd expect find knocking the mortar from the Berghain brickwork every weekend. When does techno stop being techno altogether, exactly?

So 'Stomach' is a genuine surprise, leaving Giant Swan's punky, maximalist swagger as a distant memory. The off-grid, lolloping kicks are interesting enough on their own, but it's how Stewart treats them that makes the track pop, sinking them in swirling, lysergic goop rather than drowning them out with rinsed tape FX. The oscillating, demonic subs that heave just beneath the surface don't muddy things completely, they crack the sunroof on the top end, letting the industrialized foley clanks and hoarse vocaloid stutters boot us towards an unexpected destination. And although 'Compact' is more trad on the surface - a gated peak-time roller, natch - Stewart's canny processing makes the kicks tickle more than they thump. Everything builds up to the title track, where Stewart freezes mind-rinsing dissociated echo spirals into their own rhythmic forms that push against the relentless double-time thuds, weaving phantom polyrhythms out of thin air while spectral voices whisper overhead.

Don't sleep on this one - just make sure you've got Adrian Sherwood's shrooms plug on speed dial first." - Boomkat

Field Records proudly presents the first complete vinyl edition of Monolake’s seminal excursion into experimental dub techno, Hongkong. Originally released on the now-classic Chain Reaction label in 1997, this collection of early singles by Robert Henke and Gerhard Behles has gone on to become a vital listening experience in its own right - a genre classic alongside the other groundbreaking works from the likes of Porter Ricks and Vladislav Delay. The tracks which make up Hongkong were made while Henke and Behles studied computer science and immersed themselves in Berlin’s techno scene. Their early forays into computer-based music production were enabled by the use of the Max/MSP programming environment, forming a backdrop to the landmark work they would undertake in developing the Ableton Live DAW. Henke and Behles travelled to Hong Kong in 1996 to attend the annual International Computer Music Conference, and while there recorded extensive field recordings. These recordings became the glue that pieced together their collaborative tracks into a fluid listening experience for a CD-compilation at Chain Reaction’s request. While absolutely rooted in the embryonic sound of European dub techno, Monolake’s early work possesses a back room, headphone-ready demeanour which lends itself to the album listening experience. In the cascade of rhythms created by precision engineered delays and subliminal, expansive spatial world building occurring throughout Hongkong, the stage is set for a full and thorough immersion. Before the Monolake sound progressed into a more pointillist form of computer music as Henke’s solo project, Hongkong presented a gritty, grainy sonic still tied in some way to the traditional methods of techno production, even as the artists’ ideas were sending the sequencing and arranging in exciting new directions. Remastered and presented for the first time as a complete double 12” package, this is the definitive edition of an essential work in the evolution of experimental techno. As Henke himself explains, “twenty-five years later, this record still holds immense value to me in many ways.”

“Okie Dokie It´s The Orb On Kompakt“ is already the 13th album of one of Britian's most prized cult bands. We feel it's better that way, because the music of The Orb only has an intensive effect when taken in as a long playing full length. And it proves with this lovingly conjured collection of songs brought together like a collage. The first half of Okie Dokie showcase The Orb´s love for minimal Techno and Schaffel/Shuffle as it is so obviously present in the foreground, while the second half is only reserved to the classic Orb-ish ancestral domain. There are wonderful guest appearances by Schneider TM and Kompakt´s ambient-guru Ulf Lohmann. As many of you know, there is so much history about The Orb you could write a book. Since Jimmy Cauty and Alex Paterson, in the flush of euphoria invented Chill Out and Ambient House in the first summer of love 1988, an incredible amount of things have occurred. The following timeline should give you a rough idea. - Alex Paterson gives up his job as roadie for Killing Joke. - “A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That Rules From The Centre Of The Ultraworld” is not only the record with the longest title of the world, but it also marks the departure into the new sonic worlds of post-Rave Ambient. - While Cauty goes different ways with The KLF, The Orb re-form themselves and have a big hit with Little Fluffy Clouds in 1990. - The debut album “The Orb´s Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld“ hits the Top 30 in England. - The Orb produce “Higher Than the Sun“ for Primal Scream. - The Orb perform “Blue Room“ as chess-playing aliens at Top Of The Pops. Everything goes. - “Blue Room“ clocking in at 39:58 minutes goes into music-history as the longest time for a chart single ever. - The Orb achieve great success in Glastonbury '92 + '93. - The Copenhagen double concert “to the sunrise and sunset” is eternalized on record: “Live 93“ - Previously a floating member of The Orb, Thomas Felmann becomes a fix member in 1997 - No joke: Robbie Williams takes part of The Orb for a short time. The collaboration “I started A Joke“ is released on a benefit compilation - After 2002 The Orb found with Kompakt a new ambient-loving partner and release a row of singles and play live, as the trimmed-down version as Le Petit Orb. And one more for the extra hush-hush: The Orbs first album “A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain...” was actually a Kompakt release. You can check it out. Besides the actual label Wau! Mr. Modo you can read... Kompakt Discos. Ha!!

Mikkel Metal makes a welcome return to Echocord with his new ‘Rebuild’ EP, accompanying remixes from Luke Hess and Frenk Dublin. Copenhagen’s Mikkel Metal is a pioneering figure in dub-techno and minimal house, known for his atmospheric soundscapes and textured production. With acclaimed releases on Kompakt and Echocord, including Close Selections, Victimizer, and Peaks and Troughs he’s cemented his place as one of Denmark’s most distinctive electronic artists. Here he continues to dispay this further diving into new sonic realms with a new EP for Echocord. Title-track ‘Rebuild’ opens, a hazy excursion through metallic, reverberations, expansive atmospherics and crisp drums before Detroit’s own Luke Hess steps in to offer his interpretation, delivering his signature groove-driven style, extracting the essence of the original and stirring it in amongst robust drums and spiralling dub echoes. ‘Bend’ is up next and displaying Mikkel’s production prowess as he blends murky bass flutters and analogue rhythms with psychedelic guitar melodies and dynamic space echoes, resulting in something that sounds uniquely his own. ‘Steam’ continues this theme with further psychedelia infused guitar tones flowing alongside breathy vocal stylings and fluttering atmospherics tucked into the depths. Rotterdam, Netherlands based artist Frenk Dublin delivers his ‘Deep Space Rework’ of ‘Stream next, reshaping the original into something entirely different with a dropped-tempo roots dub aesthetic, weaving fragments of the original into the composition alongside swaying dub drums and heavy doses of sub. ‘Midnite’ then concludes the release, another experimental sonic foray into unique effect processing, glitched out percussion, haunting vocals, plucked bass notes and expansive atmospherics.

Presenting the 2nd in the series of Persian remix EPs, following the bumping Dub House remakes from Picasso, the label is joined by Yorkshire’s own young electronic folklore master, a fast-rising name, Miles J Paralysis. Whereas Picasso took the first Dubplate ‘Space Within Art’, here Miles J delves in to the follow up ‘Smoke Dub’, turning out a selection of dubwise cuts that build on the dark electronics of his excellent debut releases for his Crying Outcast label. Yorkshire born and based, with a love for the Moors, as well as the teachings of lore, magick and mysticism, this young producer has been emersed in music since a young age, with a penchant of Dub, Hip Hop and Reggae. Starting with Survival Dub, the anthemic Ragga Dub original morphs into 2 parts, first heading down Paralysis’s alley of dark and brooding production marrying perfect touches of the vocal samples, before the amen break builds the track to the light. Smoke Mari follows, the languid Digibreaks chugger, utilizing Linval Thompson’s iconic vocals, now comes as a deep meditative Dub excursion. Stripped back to a raw essence, the vocals whirl, while hypnotic keys and dub bass complete the psychedelic mosaic. There Is No Love is modern dub style, off beat syncopation, reverb, tape delays, a lifting melody and some heavy vocal sampling all in the mix. The breakbeats of the original are jettisoned for an assurity of 4/4 thump, the atmospherics seeking the dark corners. “These are the last days; can’t you see the sunshine?” Zatoichi’s Troubles ends the pack, the trip hop, Depth Charge dub bass cut transforms at the mixing desk of Miles J in to Dub Techno territory; haunting, melodic. Miles J’s love of the deeper side of electronic music explored. Club music but not produced for clubs. A perfect synergy of old and new. Made for the discerning. Folklore the Mystery.

The 2004 masterpiece of the dream project Rhythm & Sound by Mark Ernestus and Moritz von Oswald, who summoned legendary reggae singers to the present age. A compilation of 10-inch singles, Berlin's deepest meditative dub masterpiece with bottomless and deeply reverberating inorganic tracks and withered vocals of successive famous singers such as Cornell Campbell, Tikiman, and Love Joys. A classic album with so deep content that it still doesn't fade at all.

With Rhythm Immortal, Carrier — the project of Guy Brewer (formerly of Commix and Shifted) — makes a remarkable full-length debut that expands his intricate rhythmic world into deeper, slower, and more textural terrain.

Since first surfacing with 12”s for FELT and his own label, Carrier has become a touchstone for those drawn to the intersection of precision, space, and pulse. Brewer’s debut album distils the essence of drum & bass, dub techno and electro-acoustic minimalism into eight finely carved movements where every percussive fragment feels alive.

Appearing alongside guest collaborators Voice Actor and Memotone, Brewer navigates between noirish ambience and tightly coiled rhythmic design — from the hovering tension of ‘Offshore’ to the hypnotic sway of ‘A Point Most Crucial’. Tracks such as ‘Outer Shell’ and ‘Wave After Wave’ balance heady abstraction with physical propulsion, creating a sound equally suited to introspection or motion.

Previewed at Berlin Atonal 2025, Rhythm Immortal confirms Carrier as a singular voice in modern electronic music — a producer devoted to rhythm as both structure and spirit.

RIYL: Photek, Rhythm & Sound, Torsten Pröfrock, Burial.

The 2004 masterpiece of the dream project Rhythm & Sound by Mark Ernestus and Moritz von Oswald, who summoned legendary reggae singers to the present age. A compilation of 10-inch singles of the version. Berlin's deepest meditative dub masterpiece with bottomless and deeply reverberating inorganic tracks. A classic album with so deep content that it still doesn't fade at all.

Khadim is a stunning reconfiguration of the Ndagga Rhythm Force sound. The instrumentation is radically pared down. The guitar is gone; the concatenation of sabars; the drum-kit. Each of the four tracks hones in on just one or two drummers; otherwise the sole recorded element is the singing; everything else is programmed. Synths are dialogically locked into the drumming. Tellingly, Ernestus has reached for his beloved Prophet-5, a signature go-to since Basic Channel days, thirty years ago. Texturally, the sound is more dubwise; prickling with effects. There is a new spaciousness, announced at the start by the ambient sounds of Dakar street-life. At the microphone, Mbene Diatta Seck revels in this new openness: mbalax diva, she feelingly turns each of the four songs into a discrete dramatic episode, using different sets of rhetorical techniques. The music throughout is taut, grooving, complex, like before; but more volatile, intuitive and reaching, with turbulent emotional and spiritual expressivity.

Not that Khadim represents any kind of break. Its transformativeness is rooted in the hundreds upon hundreds of hours the Rhythm Force has played together. Nearly a decade has passed since Yermande, the unit’s previous album. Every year throughout that period — barring lockdowns — the group has toured extensively, in Europe, the US, and Japan. With improvisation at the core of its music-making, each performance has been evolutionary, as it turns out heading towards Khadim. “I didn’t want to simply continue with the same formula, says Ernestus. “I preferred to wait for a new approach. Playing live so many times, I wanted to capture some of the energy and freedom of those performances.” Though several members of the touring ensemble sit out this recording — sabar drummers, kit-drummer, synth-player — their presence abides in the structure and swing of the music here.

Lamp Fall is a homage to Cheikh Ibra Fall, founder of the Baye Fall spiritual community. The mosque in the city of Touba is known as Lamp Fall, because the main tower resembles a lantern. Soy duggu Touba, moom guey séen / When you enter Touba, he is the one who greets you. After a swift, incantatory start Mbene sings with reflective seriousness. Her voice swirls with reverb, over a tight, funky, propulsive interplay between synth and drums, threaded with one- two jabs of bass. Cheikh Ibra Fall mi may way, mo diayndiou ré, la mu jëndé ko taalibe… Cheikh Ibra Fall amo morome, aboridial / Cheikh Ibra Fall shows the way forward, he gives us strength, he gathers his disciples… Overflowing with grace, Cheikh Ibra Fall has no equal.

Interwoven with Wolof proverbs, Dieuw Bakhul is a recriminatory song about treachery, lies, and back-biting. Over moody, roiling synths and ominous, lean bass, Mbene throws out fluttering scraps of vocal, as if re-running old conversations in her head. The music shadows her despair to the verge of breakdown, at one moment seemingly so lost in thought and memories, that it threatens to disintegrate. Bayilene di wor seen xarit ak seen an da ndo… Dieuw bakhul, dieuw ñaw na / Stop judging your friends and companions… A lie is no good, a lie is ugly.

Khadim is a show-stopper; currently the centrepiece of Ndagga Rhythm Force live performances. The song is dedicated to Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba, aka Khadim, founder of the Mouride Sufi order. Serigne Bamba mi may wayeu / Serigne Bamba is the one who makes me sing. The verses name-check revered members of his family and brotherhood, like Sokhna Diarra, Mame Thierno, and Serigne Bara. Though Islam has been practised in Senegal for a millennium, it wasn’t until the start of the twentieth century that it began to thoroughly permeate ordinary Senegalese society, hand-in-hand with anti-colonialism. The verses here recall Bamba’s banishment by the French to Gabon, and later to Mauritania, in those foundational times. During exile, his captors once introduced a lion to his cell: gaïnde gua waf, dieba lu ci Cheikhoul Khadim / the lion doesn’t budge, it gives itself over to Cheikh Khadim. Deep, surging bass, steady kick-drum, and simple, reverbed chords on the off-beat lend the feel and impetus of steppers reggae. A reed plays snatches of a traditional Baye Fall melody; the dazzling polyrhythmic drumming is by Serigne Mamoune Seck. Mbene compellingly blends percussive vocalese, narrative suspense, exultant praise, introspection, and grievance.

Nimzat is a devotional tribute to Cheikh Sadbou, a contemporary of Bamba, buried in a mausoleum in Nizmat, in southern Mauritania. Way nala, kagne nala… souma danana fata dale / I call upon you and wonder about you… If I am overwhelmed, come to my aid. The town holds special significance for Khadr Sufism. An annual pilgrimage there is conducted to this day. The rhythm is buoyantly funky; the mood is sombre, reined-in, foreboding. Punctuated by peals of thunder, Mbene sings with restrained, intense reverence; huskily confidential, steadfast. Nanu dem ba Nimzat, dé ba sali khina / Let us go to Nimzat, to seal our devotion.

Sublime downbeat pressure for the horizontally-inclined, from Lyon-based Jonnnah, chasing 2025’s co:clear side with a 2nd session of tumescent ambient textures and rolling pulses that feels like Sa Pa, CS + Kreme or even his near namesake, Jonnine, slipping off the page into deep beatdown hypnagogia... "Conceived as a form of therapy, as much as a reflection and a testimony, the record retraces a process of introspection and confrontation with one’s own history, looking back at origins, DNA, and the invisible ties that connect us to our ancestors, while opening paths toward new connections. The double-sided structure of the album makes this journey tangible. The first side lingers in uncertainty : opaque atmospheres, fragmented rhythms, and restless textures mirror the doubts, questions, and fragile states of self-analysis. The second side, in contrast, embraces clarity and resolution, dense yet luminous soundscapes where reconciliation and acceptance take shape, culminating in The Blue Comet, a piece charged with finality and revelation. Opening with the multipart suite N-zero, symbolizing the beginning of therapy, and closing with O-one, evoking the soul’s original purity, the record traces a complete emotional and spiritual cycle. Between them, the third edition of Insomnia Never Ends once again portrays the struggle between sleep and the irresistible pull of musical distraction, a fragile tension that runs through the album as a whole. The record condenses Jonnnah’s language into something rawer and more direct. Layers of dub and dub sonic resonate against ethereal ambient passages, while techno impulses maintain tension and forward motion. Each piece feels at once intimate and expansive, designed as much for solitary listening as for collective experience. A new chapter in Jonnnah’s trajectory, the album is a document of transformation : from shadow to light, from questioning to acceptance."

Yep, it’s a compilation. A marker for the first year of Short Span and a road map into the future maybe. Featuring a mix of artists already heavily involved in the label who’ve had releases out this year. As well as those with future material prepared and awaiting careful hands plating them to metal under the shadow of ski village in Sheffield and then wax in East Lothian some time in 2026. Plus a wider net of friends and admired artists making contemporary music that feels closely connected to the label right now.

There’s a lot of different narratives, meanings, and histories backwards and forwards contained on these two discs and its tempting as the compiler to dig deeply into those and write an accompanying essay...

About how the entire compilation was born from Conna sending over his tune that had started as a playful chop and screw of a Mammo track from General Patterns. How the a.m.p tune has Ben from Purelink loosely playing the keys over it during a party session.

That the Klaus and Mount Kimbie one has been sat travelling from hard drive to hard drive for years with the hope it could be released one day at the right moment. That intermountain is a freshly minted alias for IS and the False Aralia ecosystem. That I reached out to caitlin c harvey after being introduced to her wonderful music via the inspiring Submerge Sessions compilation, which recently collected work from a new school of Detroit music formed in community and tutored by some of the Underground Resistance crew…

But in sum total its just Short Span setting out its table and focusing in on publishing new music. Interesting music. Dialling in on dub and ambient and techno in different forms and qualities that hope to catch the ear and the heart. With some of the most interesting and exciting artists and tune-makers of the moment featuring in here. And a couple of geographic focal points of creativity and shared musical language coalescing in amongst that.

Two discs, two sequences you can listen through in entirety or split into listening sessions. I tried to sequence things so that it flows nicely and suits different moods. A bit of a mixtape.

Khadim is a stunning reconfiguration of the Ndagga Rhythm Force sound. The instrumentation is radically pared down. The guitar is gone; the concatenation of sabars; the drum-kit. Each of the four tracks hones in on just one or two drummers; otherwise the sole recorded element is the singing; everything else is programmed. Synths are dialogically locked into the drumming. Tellingly, Ernestus has reached for his beloved Prophet-5, a signature go-to since Basic Channel days, thirty years ago. Texturally, the sound is more dubwise; prickling with effects. There is a new spaciousness, announced at the start by the ambient sounds of Dakar street-life. At the microphone, Mbene Diatta Seck revels in this new openness: mbalax diva, she feelingly turns each of the four songs into a discrete dramatic episode, using different sets of rhetorical techniques. The music throughout is taut, grooving, complex, like before; but more volatile, intuitive and reaching, with turbulent emotional and spiritual expressivity.

Not that Khadim represents any kind of break. Its transformativeness is rooted in the hundreds upon hundreds of hours the Rhythm Force has played together. Nearly a decade has passed since Yermande, the unit’s previous album. Every year throughout that period — barring lockdowns — the group has toured extensively, in Europe, the US, and Japan. With improvisation at the core of its music-making, each performance has been evolutionary, as it turns out heading towards Khadim. “I didn’t want to simply continue with the same formula, says Ernestus. “I preferred to wait for a new approach. Playing live so many times, I wanted to capture some of the energy and freedom of those performances.” Though several members of the touring ensemble sit out this recording — sabar drummers, kit-drummer, synth-player — their presence abides in the structure and swing of the music here.

Lamp Fall is a homage to Cheikh Ibra Fall, founder of the Baye Fall spiritual community. The mosque in the city of Touba is known as Lamp Fall, because the main tower resembles a lantern. Soy duggu Touba, moom guey séen / When you enter Touba, he is the one who greets you. After a swift, incantatory start Mbene sings with reflective seriousness. Her voice swirls with reverb, over a tight, funky, propulsive interplay between synth and drums, threaded with one- two jabs of bass. Cheikh Ibra Fall mi may way, mo diayndiou ré, la mu jëndé ko taalibe… Cheikh Ibra Fall amo morome, aboridial / Cheikh Ibra Fall shows the way forward, he gives us strength, he gathers his disciples… Overflowing with grace, Cheikh Ibra Fall has no equal.

Interwoven with Wolof proverbs, Dieuw Bakhul is a recriminatory song about treachery, lies, and back-biting. Over moody, roiling synths and ominous, lean bass, Mbene throws out fluttering scraps of vocal, as if re-running old conversations in her head. The music shadows her despair to the verge of breakdown, at one moment seemingly so lost in thought and memories, that it threatens to disintegrate. Bayilene di wor seen xarit ak seen an da ndo… Dieuw bakhul, dieuw ñaw na / Stop judging your friends and companions… A lie is no good, a lie is ugly.

Khadim is a show-stopper; currently the centrepiece of Ndagga Rhythm Force live performances. The song is dedicated to Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba, aka Khadim, founder of the Mouride Sufi order. Serigne Bamba mi may wayeu / Serigne Bamba is the one who makes me sing. The verses name-check revered members of his family and brotherhood, like Sokhna Diarra, Mame Thierno, and Serigne Bara. Though Islam has been practised in Senegal for a millennium, it wasn’t until the start of the twentieth century that it began to thoroughly permeate ordinary Senegalese society, hand-in-hand with anti-colonialism. The verses here recall Bamba’s banishment by the French to Gabon, and later to Mauritania, in those foundational times. During exile, his captors once introduced a lion to his cell: gaïnde gua waf, dieba lu ci Cheikhoul Khadim / the lion doesn’t budge, it gives itself over to Cheikh Khadim. Deep, surging bass, steady kick-drum, and simple, reverbed chords on the off-beat lend the feel and impetus of steppers reggae. A reed plays snatches of a traditional Baye Fall melody; the dazzling polyrhythmic drumming is by Serigne Mamoune Seck. Mbene compellingly blends percussive vocalese, narrative suspense, exultant praise, introspection, and grievance.

Nimzat is a devotional tribute to Cheikh Sadbou, a contemporary of Bamba, buried in a mausoleum in Nizmat, in southern Mauritania. Way nala, kagne nala… souma danana fata dale / I call upon you and wonder about you… If I am overwhelmed, come to my aid. The town holds special significance for Khadr Sufism. An annual pilgrimage there is conducted to this day. The rhythm is buoyantly funky; the mood is sombre, reined-in, foreboding. Punctuated by peals of thunder, Mbene sings with restrained, intense reverence; huskily confidential, steadfast. Nanu dem ba Nimzat, dé ba sali khina / Let us go to Nimzat, to seal our devotion.

unification of techno and dub reggae. An outstanding universal masterpiece of sound dub/minimal techno released in 1993 by Mark Ernestus & Moritz von Oswald's Basic Channel, repressed in 2025.

unification of techno and dub reggae. An outstanding universal masterpiece of sound dub/minimal techno released in 1993 by German Mark Ernestus & Moritz von Oswald's Basic Channel, repressed in 2023.

unification of techno and dub reggae. An outstanding universal masterpiece of sound dub/minimal techno released in 1994 by German Mark Ernestus & Moritz von Oswald's Basic Channel, repressed in 2025.

John Howes continues his micro-dub techno work as Paperclip Minimiser, landing on Blank Mind with Topology Transform. Drawn from the same sessions as his recent album, these three tracks extend his finely tuned, system-led approach. Based in the UK’s North West, Howes builds custom tools via Cong Burn, shaping a sound that threads broken techno, clicks-and-cuts minimalism and UK bass. The A side pairs fast, detailed percussion with a more open half-time counterpart, while the B side moves into a beatless ambient stretch. Across the record, precision meets warmth, with each track reinforcing a cohesive, carefully engineered sound world.

The latest in Field Records' run of essential vinyl pressings revisits Stephen Hitchell's 2009 masterpiece under his Variant alias, The Setting Sun. As part of Echospace and also celebrated for his productions as Intrusion and Soultek, Hitchell is considered a leading light in dub techno, with the versatility in his sound to range from rhythmic, physical pulses to purely tonal, abyssal drone. His work as Variant, which debuted with The Setting Sun, capitalises on this scope to deliver a compelling ambient-with-teeth set richly deserving of a proper vinyl pressing. The Setting Sun first emerged on Echospace as a CD-only release. Hitchell was at pains to map out the tools that went into the sound on the album — field recordings of storms in Berlin, Germany and train rides in Narita, Japan, outboard synths and samplers. Crucially, he declared no computers were used, and it shows. When The Setting Sun was recorded, in-the-box production was largely dominating electronic music and the technology had yet to replicate the warmth and character of analogue equipment. Hitchell's looming chords come baked with harmonic overtones, surface noise becomes another essential layer and fragments of distortion add to the narrative of these glacial, monumental pieces. Hitchell threads his dub techno tendencies in subtle ways, from the kick pattering underneath 'As Time Stood Still' to the quintessential metallic delay ripples that define 'A Silent Storm'. 'Someplace Else' has a defined, albeit delicate, rhythm section guiding its lighter shades of pads and chords. However, drums are never a dominant aspect of the music, simply another layer in an intentionally coagulated whole. At times, flickering tones hint at space where percussion once stood, since muted to leave the wet signal setting a new course for the sound, somewhere far beyond drum duties. The hushed ceremony of tracks like 'Adrift' are the perfect scenario in which to absorb these microfibres of detail, where the genius of Hitchell can truly be savoured. In line with the limitations of record pressing and Hitchell's proclivity for long-form tracks, 'The Setting Sun' is reserved for the digital edition of this reissue. It's a logical move, as the sound palette widens to encompass tangible, organic instrumentation evolving over the best part of half an hour. The presence of piano keys feels stark in the Variant sound world, but Hitchell ably folds these coded elements into his process bathed in the same curious luminosity that lingers around all his work. Evolving at a painstaking pace, the plaintive humanity in the cascading keys and plucked guitar strings renders one of the most personal expressions in Hitchell's considerable canon — a unique piece that holds its own space comfortably, while also adding to the overall weight of The Setting Sun as a profound benchmark in a stellar discography.

Al Wootton’s Trule hosts a truly outstanding session of needlepoint techno steppers dub by Đ.K. - absolutely required listening for fans of Muslimgauze, Shackleton, Raime and Carrier.

Long admired for a percussive sleight of hand and hypnotic atmospheric levity to his music, Parisian producer Dang-Khoa Chau made a decisive switch from downbeat pressure to up-stepping momentum on his ‘Signals from the Stars’ 12” for Midgar in ’24. He now sustains that effortless feel for steppers chronics into ‘Realm of Symbols’, coaxing a signature palette of S.E. Asian-accented drums and spectral electronics into sub-propelled, spring-heeled rhythms holding among the deadliest in his contemporary field.

Seriously we’re shocked at the levels of his shadowboxing tekkerz here, from the sort of tip-toed, Tyson-esque peek-a-boo pivots and humid Ballardian atmosphere to ‘High Rise’, thru the kind of scaly, reticulated intricacies we’d expect from Photek, Raime or Carrier in ’Stepping Stone’, to the laser-etched spatial sound design harnessing his mercurial flow in the title piece, and pendulous swivel of his industrial-strength conga-clonks synced to coiled subbass torque on ‘Rough Dub’.

No doubt it’s some of the sickest, deep-end ‘floor tackle we’ve heard in a hot minute. No brainer!

Label co-founder Conrad Pack returns to SELN with what is in essence a Dub EP, but so much more. The failsafe formula of stepping percussion and “ital” bass lean on a familiar soundsystem nature with engulfing pads finishing the job to evoke a true BIG SMOKE FEELING. Although the melody itself wouldn’t sound out of place in a UK Drill number the song overall still touches on DIY ++ sonics (yes it’s as good as it sounds if not better). Recorded during the height of the Scram era, masterminded by Leeway (Guy Gormley), and hosted by the late soundsystem luminary Julian Fairshare at Ormside Projects, the influences are crystal clear; Steppers-esq, leaning heavily on London’s musical legacy past and present, whilst still pushing for SOMETHING NEW. Praise EP will be available as a limited edition Vinyl (edition of 200) and digital download. You can catch Pack performing a special live set at our forthcoming 'late night event’ at Ormside Projects on 4th October alongside Kerrie, Jah Vibemaster & Sam Clarke.

New from Modern Love; diamond-cut club fancies x tripped-out energies from a longtime pal of the label, oiling the wheels before a full album drops later this year. Nothing But Fixes spans the A like some lost Gerald whitelabel; 12 minutes of expressive, golden era romance spiked with absolute delirium on the drums. On the flip, Carinho loosens the hips with the kinky swivel of his Lisbon locale, Dojo lifts a half-step fidget, and Echochrome cuts thru liquid Eski, spiked with expressive trills.

Last spotted on production duties for Yungwesbster’s ‘II’ as well as turns for Nostalgians and Dj Loser’s Magdalena’s Apathy.. Seattle-based Jaqueline Lawson aka Matryoshka shows serious emotional range on her debut album, channeling Burial, Shinichi Atobe, Space Afrika, Malibu and Surf Gang, seemingly all at once…. Matryoshka has already built a reputation as a producer for DJ Loser's Magdalena's Apathy imprint as well as work for the Nostalgians, an under-the-radar ambient rap collective featuring Yungwebster, Mdb, tnotsobad, Nopaprr and ogpra1. Her musical roots - dubstep, trance and hard dance - tell some of the story here, but she transmogrifies those influences into haunted, Basinski-esque memories like the gaseous traces and decelerated remnants of the club. On album opener 'Lifelover’, Burial's hazed interludes spring to mind, or perhaps the 4am cityscapes of Space Afrika's now mythical 'Somewhere Decent to Live’. Background ambiance simmers below Lawson's pensive FM pads, but once she establishes the mood, things take an unexpected turn with a pitch-bent bassline that might have been lifted straight from a 6LACK loosie, and a rhythmic pulse that traces the thin red line of Shinichi Atobe. If it's dub techno, it's a strand that hasn't been codified quite yet. 'Surface Tension' uses deep, Maybach Music-coded bass womps to twist through her skittering slow rhythms and sadcore pads. But it’s Matryoshka’s harmonic instinct that stands out; if you heard the airy 'otr' or 'fantasize' from Yungwebster's 'II' you'll know exactly what we mean, and she takes it even further here, weaving cinematic, languid harmonies that bridge the gap between Steve Roach and Future. Check 'Where the Dancers are Spinning' with its levitational, almost orchestral sweeps that Lawson counterbalances with thudding subs, or the brief title track, an Akira Yamaoka-style save room loop that dissipates into a dreamy, dissociated fog, for further proof. Then there's the second side's centrepiece 'Parted by the Sea', where a ratcheting Chain Reaction-style rhythm builds to a tense crescendo only to get splintered unrecognisably in the second half, its broken pieces pillowed by Lawson's billowing time-stretched chords.