MUSIC

Shadowy London duo Two Shell continue mischievously subverting and twisting the norms of UK bass on their third EP ‘Icons’. Although the overall feel of these five tracks is one of stability - accelerated vocal samples, synths pinging around all over the place, post-Joy Orbison bass heavy techno - the results are uniformly pulse-raising and intense. For fans of Bicep or Jamie xx.

Prescient jazz-techno mutator Jamie Hodge (Conjoint, Studio Pankow) ushers a long overdue solo debut album, of sorts, with Demdike Stare’s DDS label; an archival harvest spanning his earliest experiments circa his Plus 8 debut thru to ’00s anomalies - hybrid ambient techno jazz and incredibly inventive forerunners of dubbed electronica - bookended by two Demdike Stare edits. Essential listening if yr into anything on the axis from Move D to Detroit Escalator Company, Jan Jelinek or Tortoise. Jamie Hodge grew up in Chicago in a jazz-loving family, first forming a band when he was a teenager, using drum machines and keyboards to rattle thru covers of Joy Division and Ministry tracks. His sound progressed into dubbier spaces when he befriended Ted Gray, a local record store clerk, and into off-kilter jazz when he ran into Bundy K. Brown and David Grubbs, who let Hodge watch rehearsals of the first Gastr del Sol recordings. But the transformational moment came when a friend (pictured on the "Diagonals" cover no less) played Hodge the 1991-released "From Our Minds To Yours Vol. 1", the first compilation on Richie Hawtin and John Acquaviva's Plus 8 label. From here, Hodge took his growing obsession with dance music to early Chicago raves, and began to explore European techno and UK hardcore. Eventually he met Hawtin in person after convincing his mom to cut through Canada on the way back from visiting East Coast colleges, and released his Plus 8 debut by the time he'd moved into a college dorm in 1993, using the Born Under A Rhyming Planet moniker for the first time. Hodge was also immersed in Chicago’s famous experimental jazz scene of the ‘90s - later on establishing the short-lived but excellent Aestuarium label that brought the work of Philip Cohran And The Artistic Heritage Ensemble to wider attention. Hodge would release two more 12"s for Plus 8, heading to Germany to connect with David Moufang (Move D) and forming Conjoint, later Studio Pankow. The material presented on "Diagonals" takes us right back to Hodge's vintage era, when he was using a mutating spread of equipment - Korg MS-20, Atari ST, Nord Micro Modular, ARP Axxe, Yamaha TG77 and TX816, and Alesis HR-16B - to assemble tracks that reached through his wide range of musical interests. According to Hodge, more Plus 8 releases were planned but never materialised, so this long overdue set fills in the gaps between records like 2000's classic Conjoint plate "Earprints" and Studio Pankow's still-underrated 2005 slow-burner "Linienbusse”. ‘Diagonals’ sputters to life with a Demdike Stare edit of a track Hodge recorded in Brooklyn while he was on summer break from college and working at a local record distributor. Inspired by music he'd seen at that year's New Music Seminar, he used an Atari ST and Yamaha TG77, a glassy FM module, to conduct a mood that hovers between '80s new age DIY tapes and gaseous dub techno. ‘Handley' digs into the tranquil electrified jazz modalities over a swung drum machine rhythm, squeezing robotic soul from a modest arsenal of gear, lashing the hypermelodic post-Detroit sensitivity of The Black Dog/Plaid to Chicago-axis experiments from Tortoise and Gastr del Sol. The shorter interludes are just as engrossing: Hodge experiments FM spray on 'Trampoline' and dusty Jan Jelinek-esque electroid funk on 'Menthol', ducking further into jazz on 'Hot Nachos...', augmenting his electronics with fretless electric bass. Cherry-picked by DDS, the selection best portrays the mix of soulful depth and atmospheric effervescence that defined that elusive era in electronic music; spanning a late night spectrum of styles from dusty electro-acoustic ambient prisms to supple deep house pearls, with a special strain of gently frayed computer jazz touching on the outer limits of Detroit techno. It's exceptional material that reminds us of a time when electronic music was frothing over with hope, futurism and revolutionary spirit, so whether you're into the post-Artificial Intelligence era or the Jazz-looped investigations of Jan Jelinek and crew, "Diagonals" feels like stepping into a particularly good dream.

In 1997 and 1998, the late great Japanese composer, producer, and DJ Susumu Yokota released two of the most eclectic albums of his decades-long career, Fruits of The Room and Greenpeace. Recorded under his Stevia alias for Tokyo Techno pioneer DJ Miku’s Newstage Records/NS-COM, they were Yokota-san’s homage to the foundational days of club music in Japan. This year, Glossy Mistakes are proud to present the first official vinyl editions of Fruits of The Room and Greenpeace, originally released on CD during the golden days of the format. Packaged in reimagined cover artwork created by the celebrated Japanese visual artist Masaho Anotani, these two albums perfectly capture the diversity at the heart of Yokota-san’s oeuvre. Across Fruits of The Room, he takes us on an expansive odyssey through his personal visions for deep house, street soul, jungle/drum & bass, digital dub and the slipstream moments between genres. A totally inspired dancefloor exploration. When Yokota-san wrote and produced the music on Fruits of The Room and Greenpeace in 1997, he was reflecting on the broader culture that surrounded dance music in Japan in the early to mid-nineties. It was an era when the psychedelic culture of late sixties America, the afterglow of UK acid house/rave, the new age movement and cyberpunk dovetailed together. Within DJ Miku and Yokota-san’s social circles, the thinking of Timothy Leary, Ram Dass, Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs electrified the air. By 1996, the moment, brilliant and blinding as it was, was over. “We all felt that the rave scene fizzled out,” DJ Miku says. As he puts it, there was a collective feeling around him that it had all become too much. From the calm that followed, DJ Miku, Yokota-san and their open-eared peers made the decision to switch tracks and start from scratch. DJ Miku believes that with his Stevia releases, Fruits of The Room and Greenpeace, Yokota-san wanted to express the sweet and sour nature of the passing of those wild early days and his wish for true peace. “At the time, we saw eye-to-eye, with an implicit understanding of each other,” he explains. “Even now, twenty-five years later, I am confident it was like that.”

Back in the early ‘90s, whenever the pirate radio MC announced “a pause for the cause”, I usually pressed pause on my cassette recorder. That’s something I would regret years later, when ad breaks had become cherished mementos of the hardcore rave era. Luckily, back in the day I often left the tape running while I went off to do something else. So a fair number of ad breaks got captured accidentally for my later delectation. Not nearly enough, though. So in recent years I started combing through the immense number of pirate radio sets archived on the internet. Sometimes the tracklists would note “ad break” or “ads”, helping to narrow the search. But often I’d just stumble on a bunch in the middle of a pirate show preserved on YouTube or an oldskool blog. A few of my original unintended “saves” and latterday “finds” are included in this wonderful collection by audio archaeologist Luke Owen. It’s the latest in his series of compilations of UK pirate radio advertisements, with this volume focusing on the audio equivalent of the rave flyer: MCs breathlessly hyping a club night or upcoming rave, listing the lineup of deejays and MCs, boasting about hi-tech attractions like lasers and projections, mentioning prices and nearest landmarks to the venue, and occasionally promising “clean toilets” and “tight but polite security” (“sensible security” is another variation). Some of these ads are etched into my brain as lividly as the classic hardcore and jungle tunes of that time. (Most rave ads incorporate snippets of current music, of course – big anthems and obscure “mystery tracks” alike). Names of deejays ring out like mythological figures: who were Shaggy & Breeze, Kieran the Herbalist, Tinrib, Food Junkie? Putting on my serious hat for a moment, I think these ads are valuable deposits of sociocultural data, capturing the hustling energy of an underground micro-economy in which promoters, deejays and MCs competed for a larger slice of the dancing audience. But mostly, they are hard hits of pure nostalgic pleasure, amusing and thrilling through their blend of period charm, endearing amateurism, and contagiously manic excitement about rave music’s forward-surge into an unknown future. The best of these ads give me a memory-rush to rival the top tunes and MC routines of the era. — Simon Reynolds, author of Energy Flash: A Journey Through Rave Music and Dance Culture.

Back in the early ‘90s, whenever the pirate radio MC announced “a pause for the cause”, I usually pressed pause on my cassette recorder. That’s something I would regret years later, when ad breaks had become cherished mementos of the hardcore rave era. Luckily, back in the day I often left the tape running while I went off to do something else. So a fair number of ad breaks got captured accidentally for my later delectation. Not nearly enough, though. So in recent years I started combing through the immense number of pirate radio sets archived on the internet. Sometimes the tracklists would note “ad break” or “ads”, helping to narrow the search. But often I’d just stumble on a bunch in the middle of a pirate show preserved on YouTube or an oldskool blog. A few of my original unintended “saves” and latterday “finds” are included in this wonderful collection by audio archaeologist Luke Owen. It’s the latest in his series of compilations of UK pirate radio advertisements, with this volume focusing on the audio equivalent of the rave flyer: MCs breathlessly hyping a club night or upcoming rave, listing the lineup of deejays and MCs, boasting about hi-tech attractions like lasers and projections, mentioning prices and nearest landmarks to the venue, and occasionally promising “clean toilets” and “tight but polite security” (“sensible security” is another variation). Some of these ads are etched into my brain as lividly as the classic hardcore and jungle tunes of that time. (Most rave ads incorporate snippets of current music, of course – big anthems and obscure “mystery tracks” alike). Names of deejays ring out like mythological figures: who were Shaggy & Breeze, Kieran the Herbalist, Tinrib, Food Junkie? Putting on my serious hat for a moment, I think these ads are valuable deposits of sociocultural data, capturing the hustling energy of an underground micro-economy in which promoters, deejays and MCs competed for a larger slice of the dancing audience. But mostly, they are hard hits of pure nostalgic pleasure, amusing and thrilling through their blend of period charm, endearing amateurism, and contagiously manic excitement about rave music’s forward-surge into an unknown future. The best of these ads give me a memory-rush to rival the top tunes and MC routines of the era. — Simon Reynolds, author of Energy Flash: A Journey Through Rave Music and Dance Culture.

Reticulated bassbin minimalism from NYC’s K Wata, runner of the pivotal clubnight, Slink, and now producer of note with a mutant style comparable to Batu or Mosca Daring to differ in a field of unapologetic copycats, K Wata makes a strong impression with his debut haul of skeletal rhythmic tics and aerated textures that feel like a ghostly distillation of current UK mutations. Feeling out murky negative space with brittle 2-step bones in ‘Meet me at the One’, he proceeds to dial up the atmospheric content around the displaced steppers footing of ‘2 Spot Text’, and proper gyring sound design in the superb centrepiece ‘Lost My Focus’. At its most supple, ‘Dot Dot Dot’ toys with delicate 2-step patterns in subtly warped hyperspace, and ‘Sling of Life’ reduces his style to pure plasmic textures and whispered murmurs that could make for a crafty bridge in DJ sets.

Late last year, Canadian producer Priori returned with his second album ‘Your Own Power’ to great acclaim. Released via his NAFF imprint, the album showcased a more contemplative style to his productions and featured one collaborative track with label partner Ex-Terrestrial. The story continues as Priori enlists a heavyweight line-up of artists to rework some of the album’s standout tracks. Slated to drop on the 18th March, ‘Your Own Power Remixes’ features new editions from Donato Dozzy, Aurora Halal, DJ Python, and Bambounou alongside a Priori VIP - each bringing their own flair and style to the record. Priori is an alias of Francis Latreille who first put out solo releases on Greek label Echovolt and Canadian imprint ASL Singles Club. Known to be an avid collaborator, Latreille is involved in a number of projects including Jump Source, M.S.L., Housemates, New World Science, ANF and more. He has also worked on mixing projects by fellow artists including Roza Terenzi, Ex-Terrestrial, RAMZi, Bambii, and Ouri.

Building on the promise of nearly 10 years testing limits within club music, Batu presents his debut album Opal. Experimentation is a well-established facet of Omar McCutcheon’s identity within the leftfield techno zeitgeist, but more than ever on Opal he seizes the opportunity to incorporate ideas beyond dancefloor impetus into his animated, forward-leaning sound. Through the course of 11 tracks, rhythmic forms are mutated and manipulated, sonic matter bends across the frequency range and narrative structures coalesce and dissolve according to Batu’s own internal logic. Unpredictability lies at the heart of all this music, bound together by a consistent modernist glint. It’s a sound intrinsically connected to the superlative string of club 12”s, EPs and collaborations Batu has spun behind him thus far, even as it moves into unfamiliar terrain, guided by abstract inspiration from coastal landscapes and the mineral matter all life on Earth is built on. On Opal the visceral production isn’t necessarily geared towards shock tactics. Instead, emotional depths are explored through melodic and textural forms which take on an elemental quality. It’s a space which can accommodate the explicit heart and soul of the human voice, as recent collaborator serpentwithfeet demonstrates weaving a mesmerising vocal through ‘Solace’, but it can also take in broad sweeps of interpretive landscape. There’s also room for small fragments of instrumentation, recorded by Memotone, processed by Batu and subtly threaded throughout the album. Balancing micro and macro in specific sounds as much as moods, Batu’s finely-sculpted work calls to mind the immensity of passing time cast in cliff faces, and the intimate personal growth we experience in our own lifetimes. Mimicking the iridescent stone it takes its name from, Opal refracts Batu’s distinctive artistic imprint, giving us a deeper, more revealing impression of the artist as he explores ideas bigger – and indeed smaller.

Previously unissued music by Alvin Curran. Collecting works recorded between 2018-2021 and a side-long epic dating back to the early 80s, as the title suggests, »Drumming Up Trouble« focuses on a hitherto almost unknown aspect of Curran’s encyclopaedic and omnivorous musical world: his experiments with sampled and synthesised percussion. As Curran’s wonderful, wildly sweeping liner notes make clear, his fascination with drumming belongs to the radical investigation of music’s fundamental elements that has marked his output since the beginnings of MEV, who aimed (as he says in a recent interview) to return 'in some collective way to a non-existent start time in the history of human music'. Whatever kind of music our proto-human ancestors played, he writes, 'drums were front and centre in the mix. Drums rule!' In a paradox typical of Curran’s approach, »Drumming Up Trouble« interrogates this most ancient dimension of music with contemporary technology. On the first side, we hear recent pieces performed using the sampling software and full-size MIDI keyboard setup Curran has refined since the 1980s. Two of them are wild real-time improvisations, primarily utilising an enormous bank of hip-hop samples. Building from polyrhythmic layers of drum machine fragments to wild cacophonies of clashing vocal samples, scratching, and frantic pitch shifting, these energetic and at times hilarious pieces occupy a space somewhere between John Oswald’s Plunderphonics, Pat Thomas and Matt Wand in the Tony Oxley Quartet, and the propulsive Kudoro/Grime fusion of Lisbon’s Príncipe label. They are improvisations are accompanied by two austere, minimal compositions realised in collaboration with Angelo Maria Farro: »End Zone« for orchestral bass drum and high oscillator, and »Rollings«, where a snare roll is gradually stretched and filtered by digital means into ‘floating electronic gossamer’. The incredible breadth of Curran’s output makes it pretty unlikely that a listener familiar with his work would be surprised to find it branching out in a new direction. But no degree of familiarity with his work can really prepare for side B’s epic and bizarre »Field it More«. It’s perhaps best to let the maestro describe this unhinged and infectious offering in his own words: ‘It features an 8 bar funky minimal riff à la James Brown, played on synth and an-out-of-tune piano, synced to a pre-paid patch on the Roland drum machine. Over this is laid a heavily processed track of the voices of dancer Yoshiko Chuma and movie-maker Jacob Burckhardt discussing an upcoming performance of theirs at the Venice film festival, capped by a track of my playing an increasingly out of control blues over the top of all of the above’. Only Pekka Airaksinen’s Buddhas of the Golden Light comes to mind as a reference point that might even vaguely compare to this wild home-brew of drum-machine funk, mad improvisation and squelching electronics, which eventually dissolved into a massive, layered cluster. Ancient and modern, synthetic and human, hysterical and rigorous, Drumming up Trouble is 100% Curran.

Dang-Khoa Chau aka Đ.K. gives up a self-released treat, sidewinding into psychedelic realms of radiant gamelan and slow, humid bangers, highly recommended if yr into ’Forest of Evil' period Demdike, early Shackleton, DJ Python. A pivotal presence in the Parisian scene thanks to his rounds for Antinote, L.I.E.S., Second Circle, and most recently 12th isle & Good Morning Tapes; Đ.K now takes matters into his own hands to issue some golden material, drawing on his South East Asian heritage and sultry, stylized nEuropean club music for a properly hypnotic seven track trip. In deep pursuit of atavistic urges, and modelled with electronic futurism, his ‘Gate Of Enlightenment’ calls up a spectra of spirits that invoke altered states; vocal swirls meet purposeful gamelan in ‘Enlightenment Process’, aligning for the deftly weight trample of ‘Middle Path’ with its mystic horns, and a slippery sort of dancehall swivel in ‘Sacred Creatures.’ ‘His ‘Day of Mourning’ makes room for contemplation with sound sensitive instincts heightened to unnerving degrees, while ‘Metal Frames’ yokes back to the ‘floor with something like an industrialised echo of the Ghost In The Shell OST, while the closing couplet see his percussive proprioceptions at their most devilish and immersive.

The prolific shapeshifting artist known as Emma DJ is back on L.I.E.S. following his "FUSION" split lp from last year. His new nine track "Melon Siesto" lp is a deep dive into the warped world that is Emma DJ and his musical perversions. Mechanized soundblasts, tortured voices rising from the rubble, slowbeat mind destruction, and fast paced teeth grinding dance not dance make this album what it is. And what is it? Think about armor piercing bullets shot from close range with maximum blood splatter across your xxxl white tee while a tricked out Honda Accord side swipes your falling and now lifeless corpse and you're getting the idea. Limited to 250 copies worldwide.

Gassing the tempo and playing it loose & tracky as f*ck, Rat Heart’s 5th solo album in the space of 18 months twists his grimy kaleidoscope to spy a more manic, ruffcut batch of warehouse scrappers and basement brukkouts injected with levels of scuzz and blunted vocals. It’s an instant classic shot at the rise of cosplaying posh DJs, alongside thee rudest steppers and spannered grime. Aye, you’re in for a treat - Massive RIYL Michael J. Blood, H-Fusion, Demdike Stare, Actress, Laswell, Hints of this sound are strewn across Tom Boogizm’s gush of Rat Heart releases, but never quite so intently and single-minded as on ‘Ratty Rids The Clubs From The Evil Curse Of The Private School DJ’s’. Under that canny titular nod to Scientist’s classic album, he makes absolutely no bones about his antipathy toward the way dance music - traditionally a working class past-time - has been cuckooed and blanched by the British middle/upper class in the past decade (obvious correlations with 12 years of Tory dickheads?). To be fair, the politics aren’t overbearing - he’s not trying to be Wigan’s Chumbawumba - but they’re inherent to what makes him tick, and patently result in a brilliantly dare-to-differ sound. Taking a big lick of the salty chip, he comes off like MES meets H-Fusion in ‘A Poem 4 The Modern Day DJ Private School Online Activist’, before cycling thru some of his strongest uptempo shit, keeping toes off the ground between the ghettotech percs of ‘Stressss’, his outstanding rimshot stepper ‘Teeth Like a Burnt Fence M8’, and lip-bitingly tight hi-hat thizz on ‘Leigh via Hag Fold’, plus the Sockethead-adjacent ace ‘Yeye’ and a Devil mix style mutation ‘No Tick 4 Lads in V-Neck Shirts (Brave Lil Piggy Mix)’. There’s something else happening on this one too; a very specific je ne sais quoi that’s giving us momentary flashbacks to Laswell, Jean-Michel Basquiat’s ‘Gray’, even John Cale’s super distinctive production style on 'Squirrel And G-Man Twenty Four Hour Party People Plastic Face Carnt Smile (White Out)’ - bits like the claggy ambient of ‘$hatterdance’ and hot-boxed grogginess of ‘Wot Happens if U Just Eat Crisp’ - all designed to ideally temper the flex.

reversals and slippage toward glass, reconfigured
smasht past it
smeared the oil cross currents
and me
plant rotting its container, or, grains lovingly
no warm water to spit back
no cloth to tie

i glance back
refractions stack right.

a kiss that will stew until it evaporates
scuffed across my feet, feet crossed

bubbled trash that spilt intermittently,
who cleaned the air with a smudgey for you.

Huerco S’ West Mineral label follow Pendant’s sublime 'Make Me Know You Sweet' album with uon’s wholly absorbing study in brownian motion and isolation tank ambience; a hypnotically lush exploration of underwater romance. If you're into the impeccable run of Vainqueur releases on Chain Reaction, this one's for you.

It’s the 2nd release from the enigmatic project, whose debut 12”s in 2017 was among the year’s standout ambient and dub-related releases. On this new one uon poetically describes three different behaviours of water and its amorphous states through a gently elemental push and pull of forces best considered in the vein of Basic Channel, Wolfgang Voigt’s Gas or the shimmering convections of Ross 154.

Beautifully elusive but crucially watermarked with a sense of originality in personalized style, Solaris opens the set with a 17 minute cut - a seemingly infinite journey through swells of diffracted chords and silty filters, simultaneously connoting sensations of opiated amniotic safety and oceanic infinity.

Where the A-side feels like floating in a lush mass, the bass-heavy articulation of his B-side’s J may well urge listeners onto the ‘floor with the same, inexorable traction of classic Vainqueur records, and in a way smartly reflects uon’s mutable DJ style, before the aqueous qualities of his final track Bus soothes to a deeper blue state of loved-up introspection which, like Solaris, could have have easily taken up a side to itself.

Bliss.

One of the biggest classics in housemusic history! Containing 4 masterpieces in the genre by one of its masterminds. It's about time that people become aware of the talents of Larry Heard (aka Mr Fingers). One could easily say that he is the Miles Davis of housemusic. On this remastered release we have Stars, Waterfalls, Slam Dance and For So Long. 4 tracks with unique alienating machine rhythms, intense basslines and overwhelming beauty in an abstract way that was never heard before, untill this release came out. House Classic Must Have!! iframe title="YouTube video player" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/c3eMQB8h-eI" allowfullscreen="" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" width="560" height="315" frameborder="0">

Absolutely deadly showcase of Wolof drumming patterns invented by legendary Senegalese griot, Doudou Nidiaye Rose - a 100% must-check for fans of West African percussion and Mark Ernestus’ Ndagga Rhythm Force! Top shelf Honest Jon’s tackle, this; 21 swingeingly tight performances by an extended griot family, of the eponymous dynamo’s intricately expressive, meter bending tekkerz. Spanning the decades-old theme tune of Senegalese TV national news, ‘Hibar Yi’ (‘Passing on Information’), thru to the signature rhythm of Senegal’s first ever all-female percussion group, Les Rosettes, it’s a uniquely engaging dedication to the legacy of Doudou Nidiaye Rose, the dynamic griot drummer who developed a system of some 500 original drumming patterns which endure to this day. Performed in the mystical settings of Lac Rose - named for its pink waters (a result of algae blooms and high salinity) - the ‘Twenty-One Sabar Rhythms’ invite us to marvel and, more importantly, dance, to a range of Doudou’s original compositions, as well as important traditional rhythms known to every Sabar player. Beautifully recorded, sans overdubs, with the tuned drums fiercely upfront, while subtly incorporating atmospheric sounds of Lac Rose, the set ideally speaks to the inimitable richness of West African drum communications, and their application in everything from courtship rituals (‘Farwu Jar’) to harvest celebrations (‘Gumbé’), often with a breathtaking sense of joy and energy that simply has to be experienced to be understood. Fair to say that our relationship with this music stems form Mark Ernestus’ endeavours showcasing Ndagga Rhytym Force to the Western world (their show at Mcr’s Band on the Wall still gives us the shivers) and we suspect that if you, too, witnessed one, you’ve already clicked the buy button. But if not, and you’ve got an ounce of bounce in dem bones, The Doudou Ndiaye Rose Family’s thrilling throwdown will utterly light up your life, and make you dance 100% better. Ayayayayaya this is IT! In process of stocking.* Magnificent Wolof drum music, performed by an extended griot family over seven consecutive days, in the mystical setting of Lac Rose, outside Dakar. Doudou Ndiaye Rose — who died in 2015 — is a key drummer in the musical history of the world. He developed a system of five hundred original drumming patterns, ancient and new. Amongst the modern rhythms here is Bench Mi — 'under the Baobab tree,' a spot where where problems get solved. Also Hibar Yi — 'passing on information' — the theme-tune of Senegalese TV national news for decades — and Les Rosettes, the signature rhythm of Senegal's first ever all-female percussion group, convened by Doudou, and named after his grandmother. These original compositions sit alongside important traditional rhythms, familiar to every Sabar player, such as Farwu Jar (a courtship game sometimes resulting in a wedding), Ceebu Jin (also the name of the national dish of fish and rice), and Gumbé, often played after a successful harvest. Recorded in joyful single takes, with no overdubs, mastered by Rashad Becker, the music is deep and thrilling, polyrhythmic to the bone, with a complex, pointillistic intensity at times evoking Jeff Mills in full flight.

DJ Python revives his cult alias, Luis, with a reflective ode to his best friend. The five tracks here represent the inscrutable mix of detachment and contentment that made DJ Python's Mas Amable a modern touchstone, but the 057 (Schwyn) EP also possesses the heartfelt '90s sheen that is Luis's sonic signature. Idiosyncratic rhythms and twinkling ambience build patiently before arriving at the blissed breakbeat closer. "missen and loven. schwyn and i go into each others lives here and there quiet and present. always missen and loven. to know he is on the earth is to know that it is beautiful." - Brian Piñeyro

Experiences Limited, now 3XL, with a sick new LP from Exael on a highly atmospheric ambient jungle tip, deploying 30 mins of percussive spasms seeping into smoked-out zoners - highly tipped if yr into anything from Lee Gamble to Malibu. Clearing their cache of stray bullets, Exael returns with a gyring plunge into percussive wormholes and low-lit mood enhancers .The tracks are broadly cleft along schisms of dark/light and demonic/angelic, switching from restive propellers to more sublime sensations in a fine testament to their practice - making for prob our favourite Exael release thus far. On the “darker” side, they commit the convulsive, fractious footwork pulses and warped tones of ‘Circle (Squishy Mix)’ in a sort of parallel to 33EMYBW’s insectoid rhythms and combustion systems, while ‘Ice That melts The Tips’ trades in rapid, ice-skating thizz and ‘Ghoul Search (Demonic Attachment Mix)’ fires up the junglist particle accelerator for a proper gauntlet of hyper techstep dynamics. The contrast is epitomised by ’Composure’, arranging flinty breaks on a luscious waterbed of floating pads, before ‘Eidolon’ renders a sort of airborne dembow pressure in the vicinity of Ben Bondy & special guest dj’s xphresh works. ‘L-theanine’ closes the session on a fine tread inside emo ambient styles and flurries on the same spectrum between DJ Lostboi and Teresa Winter, complete with a reverberating, half-buried vocal. All smoke & strobe doozies.

"Always take from the past - avoiding the empty longings of nostalgia - with a view to understanding the new place it might hold in the future. Good Morning Tapes has done just that, and with the 90’s revival in something of a full swing, the label finally gets the chance to release a pivotal 10 year old mix that didn’t just ignite a curious wave of reflection and appropriation, it marked a culmination in the shifting sonic sands for its creator Mr. Alexis Le-Tan. His name needs little light thrust upon it in these hallowed cosmic halls, with his enduring and ever present mixes being a staple for those that know. Back to Disco Valley is arguably his most important mix - it both recontextualised a dirty and forgotten sound of the past, and facilitated a wave of new freedoms for those wishing to look backwards in order to move forwards. Most importantly it planted the seed for everything Full Circle to come. Back to Disco Valley is above all else a personal reckoning for Alexis and Joakim, it marked a moment when many problems inherent in a trapped older sound - with a sublime yet dated history of its own - could breath fresh life in the present day; a new slower realm was born. The slowing down of dance music is nothing new, and certainly where peak time beats have existed a spiritual shadow that revels in a slower ethereal space to dance has never been far away. Stylistically on one level, Back to Disco Valley might seem to build on what Baldelli or Loda were doing many years ago, and it certainly has that effortless charm, but it goes much further, not just in its re-appraisal of the frenetic fast paced sounds of Goa, but as a signifier of where many wanted to head on the dancefloor - towards a slower oasis - incorporating new releases and modern sounding rarities along the way. Indeed, in selecting the 33rpm dial rather than that marked 45, Full Circle at once opened up the new space inside a music some of us went bananas to 30 years ago, and at the same time made sense of a crucial yet forgotten heritage; a confession became a badge of honour. Coming back to Full Circle and its genesis: it was only a matter of time before the old Goa records would come back down from the racks and spawn a new life, and perhaps whilst Le-Tan cemented something a lot of us knew, Back to Disco Valley somehow liberated many of those early records from their stylistic shackles initiating a creative project that - along side the collaborative work with Joakim - has released a wave of inspirational edits and re-imaginations. Full Circle - in all its conceptual & metaphorical majesty - really has come to represent the most stylish of takes on past sounds, both in the realm of selection and re-working. It is certainly true that Back to Disco Valley - sounding now as it did then (to the select tuned ears that got to listen) - reflects a perfect meeting between an off-tempo past, present and future, being more than a functional assemblage, it revives many a lost memory, inspiring a new batch of ideas, and always looking back with a purpose.

Consummate selector and veteran of a pair of mixtape percies for The Trilogy Tapes, DJ Sundae racks up the rarities for a killer new edition for Good Morning Tapes, a recording of his set for Alexis Le Tan’s Oddity Radio, Paris. Sundae’s selection skills are already a thing of low-key legend and on this new one he picks an arc from sylvan synth glydes to punky reggae dub via ample armfuls of spirited music, each cut a stepping stone to the next in a proper example of DJ as storyteller. Aye, you can forget about any easily identifiable gear and expect to snag the attentions of earnest spotters licking their nibs for hits of rustic folk, proggy psych, druggy grunge and punk hymns that give way to brooding bass music and stepping post-punk.

Equal parts Sheffield bleep, fractal IDM and interstellar ambience, Hyper Nu Age Tekno sees Taro Nohara (aka Yakenohara) plotting a star map on a faded rave flyer. Let the billionaires blast into orbit while you explore your inner space with Growing Bin.

From the LP's earliest moments, the whomping subs and crystalline chimes of "Space Debris", it's clear that we're a long way from Hamburg. Taro pilots this craft on a deep space exploration way beyond the run out groove, to a place where heartening chords herald a twin sunrise and any broadcasts are lost in translation. The polyrhythmic pulse of "Ill Ell" follows, its concentric chimes and rapid fire kicks summoning the teknoguild to a watery altar in the engineering department. Sticking with interstellar mysticism but taking a turn for the transcendent, "Baker Baker Paradox" spins Reich-ian repetition into a graphene gossamer embellished with chrome, crystal and shoegaze shimmer. The B-side begins on the observation deck, bathing in the beauty of "Celestial Harmonia"'s sci-fi exotica, before the entheogenic "Use Your Head" prompts a delirious dash to the holodeck. Laying serene pads over a techy 4/4, Taro turns out the most danceable and dreamy track on the LP. As ambient chords ring out into the aether and rhythmic pulses shift out of phase, "Airplane Without People" is the loading screen for your virtual fantasy, soon rendered through the woody percussion and spheric bass of "Music For Psychic Liberation". Leave your body behind as you pick mushrooms in a CGI forest.

Classic album from 1977, the sixth Kraftwerk album, originally issued by Kling Klang. This is the English-language, U.S.-cover art version. One of the inspired electronically-based pop records of all time. Performed by the quartet of Hütter, Schneider, Flür & Karl Bartos, this is the quintessential Kraftwerk sound recording experience. Tracklist: Side One: A1. Europe Endless; A2. The Hall Of Mirrors; A3. Showroom Dummies. Side Two: B1. Trans-Europe Express; B2. Metal On Metal; B3. Franz Schubert; B4. Endless Endless.

LP version of their 5th album from 1975. The centerpiece inbetween Autobahn and Trans Europa Express -- a trilogy of masterworks that found Kraftwerk at their artistic pinnacle, in the midst of rearranging the musical universe. The sweeping synth melodies are in full futuristic force, surrounded by weird bleepage and a static pulse -- this is a mesmerizing album in every way. Tracklisting: Side 1: A1. Geiger Counter; A2. Radioactivity; A3. Radioland; A4. Airwaves; A5. Intermission; A6. News; Side 2: B1. The Voice of Energy; B2. Antenna; B3. Radio Stars; B4. Uranium; B5. Transistor; B6. Ohm Sweet Ohm.

Donato Dozzy and Milanese veteran Stefano Ghittoni mint a new series on Dozzy's Mage Circe Musica imprint, channeling Daniele Baldelli's cosmic disco manifesto and exploring screwed rhythms, psychedelic electronix and blunted dub atmospheres. So good - imagine a half-speed Shinichi Atobe or Rrose spliced with GRM-damaged concréte FX and percussion courtesy of Konono No.1. Basically it's peak Dozzy syrup - Tip! Alicia Carrera and Donato Dozzy's Maga Circe Musica label has quickly established itself as an outlet for some of the most impressively tight experimental slop we've heard in ages. Dozzy and Ghittoni's first La Petit plate is no different, using the enduring influence of Northeastern Italian electronic music (think Baldelli and Marco Dionigi) to help transform and repurpose dub techno, folk, ambient music, jazz and global sounds. If Baldelli and Dionigi were best known for pushing disco's tempo down to a crawl, Dozzy and Ghittoni do the same with their wealth of diggers' influences, dipping hollow 4/4 percussion and syncopated hand drums to a chug on 'Sukia' and slowly building an atmosphere with low-slung bass and spooked electronics. Imagine holding down the pitch slider on a Badalamenti score and a Funkadelic 12” playing at the same time, for the gist. On 'Lanquidity' the duo pull in horizontal dub pads and place them against a resinous thud and swirling dub FX, played slower than it should be and somehow operating in the same gloopy zone as Newworldaquarium to emphasise mood and texture over technical trickery. 'Niento’ is even better, using smeared LM1 claps for a sort of assymetric, purple funk played at -8 while taking a fourth world-inspired rhythm and welding it to lysurgic synth drones and nipped kicks - it's a mid-point between vintage bleep techno, cosmic disco and rhythmic psychedelia. 'Le Petit' is over too soon, but gives us plenty to chew on: anyone who enjoys Dozzy's genre-agnostic DJ sets or the fertile area between hazy ambience and half-speed dancefloor zones - this one’s a killer.