MUSIC

An inspired coming together of musical minds. To celebrate the 20th anniversary of In A Space Outta Sound, George Evelyn aka DJ E.A.S.E has handed over the tapes to dub maestro Adrian Sherwood to go on a heady version excursion with eight tracks from the original record, in the spirit of the reggae and sound system roots that informed the original album. The result is a fresh take on a much-loved classic, in the lineage of albums such as Massive Attack’s No Protection and Spoon’s Lucifer On The Moon. Features bold new re-works of iconic tracks such as “You Wish” (appearing here as “You Bliss”) and “Flip Ya Lid” (mutated into “Flippin Eck”). As well as his trademark mixing desk wizardry, Sherwood has also brought in some of the core On-U Sound players to add additional instrumentation and turn this collaboration into something which is much more than the sum of its parts.

Space Afrika, the Manchester/Berlin-based duo of Joshua Tarelle Reid and Joshua Inyang, make raw, intensely detailed, visceral music with shades of ambient, trip-hop, techno, and modern classical, drawing spacious urban dubscapes from the contours of their city. 'Quiet Storm', the duo's highly anticipated follow-up to their 2021 LP on Dais Records, expands on its predecessor’s sound and scale in every direction as a sprawling, collaborative vision shaped with profound patience and intention. The leap, both technical and emotional, outlines the duo’s development — two polymath producers, composers, performers, and visual artists who’ve met expectations with mastery, embedding their own coming-of-age story within a moving suite of cathartic abstraction. Songs allude to spirituality and the human condition, the tension between boldness and softness, ambition and the inner demons that persist. Contributors include Axelle Fanyo, Alto Aria, Deuén, Klein, RXKNephew, Tony Njoku, Kiala Ogawa, and Kelly Moran. "We challenged ourselves and our own notions of identity, around class and diaspora, and how that is represented across musical genres. We wanted to show the characteristics of our project through the people we chose to work with," says Reid. "We've stayed true to ourselves. It's music from the heart. It's music that has a particular rawness to it, but we've articulated that in a more modern classic structure, there’s a much more critical pronunciation of techniques," says Inyang. "It's a collaborative record because there is always strength and love in collaboration. But with that, we were able to focus more strongly on our personal identity." Five years feels immense following the release of 'Honest Labour', which was named Resident Advisor’s album of 2021, among other accolades from the likes of Bandcamp, Mixmag, and The Guardian, and cemented Space Afrika as a world-class live act. "These things take time," says Inyang, explaining that with the increased visibility came a certain weight. "It’s taken us down a winding road with extreme positives and also negatives, a kind of responsibility that we've held as artists from the Northwest, with our work expanding globally." Naturally, 'Quiet Storm' responds to the moment with deep consideration. He continues, "There’s no compromise in how we’ve made this album. The idea started as a celebration of Black artistry. Our collaborations have been very intentional, as we discovered the pillars of the story– our journey, which is mirrored in the film, where two young boys have taken a risk by following a belief in their talents." If 'Honest Labour' defined Space Afrika’s industrial-noir frameworks, 'Quiet Storm' takes the contrast up several levels with striking textures and sophisticated arrangements. The album is every bit a multidisciplinary effort, with the duo welcoming contributions from cellists, violinists, guitarists, drummers, and more, often writing and arranging lines to realize the vision in its totality. "We always think about the presentation of the music, and as we're writing, we're thinking about the stages that it's going to be on," says Inyang. Reid adds, "It's been a big nod to have these international collaborations, but there’s a British eccentricity coming through this record. We’re connecting the threads between these disciplines and genres, whether rap or classical. We took time away to revisit and rethink how these worlds have inspired us. We saw it as a cathartic practice, to unshackle oneself and step into the unknown, and there is no limit to the ways you can articulate a message and the vessels that they come through." Speaking to the multidisciplinary nature of the project is the involvement of celebrated artist Glenn Ligon, whose work deals with Black identity and queerness. A central inspiration at the onset of recording, Ligon offered his work 'Figure #30' (2009) for the LP's cover artwork, and following the completion of recording, he agreed to provide the project’s name – an unprecedented gesture from the pioneering artist. When provided with the final audio, Ligon immediately thought of "Quiet Storm," the 1970s radio format known for smooth, late-night programming with themes of life and love. 'Quiet Storm'’s sequence brings the listener through various scenes, interludes, and arcs, marked by a sense that its movement is fluid and its characters are fleeting. Into-the-mirror monologues grapple with the existential and the immediate: survival, autonomy, purpose. The album opens with the explosive, string-backed "Vanity" featuring 2025 Grammy-winning opera singer Axelle Fanyo. At first fixated on the crevices of a quiet room, "Vanity" unfurls under Fanyo’s expressive soprano, traversing a wide emotional spectrum from sublime contemplation to poignant, heart-piercing pain. "Vanity" was the first song from the sessions released to the public, as the song is the central piece to the album's film accompaniment, 'Opera Omnia', directed by Valentin Noujaim. Throughout the record, words spoken and sung are placed sparingly to powerful effect. Vanessa Bedoret's bright vocals on "Crying never had a voice ~" break through the swell of thunderstorms. Tender affirmations from Danish artist Alto Aria lift up "From The Heart of Knowing", as saxophone and cello interplay with Kelly Moran on piano. Rochester, NY rapper RXKNephew declares his deep state reality on the woozy "Ballad For A 'G'" as strings, breath and static are exhaled, with co-production by South London’s Klein. The voice of "Validation" delves into the notion of owning who they are, as disorienting strums and city sounds surround, in conversation with plucks from Greco-Canadian harpist Any. "MLN" gets to the beauty and catharsis at the core of Quiet Storm. It’s a true band effort, a collective slow march featuring British-Nigerian artist Tony Njoku, with guitar and lead bass by Gabriel Evans, London's PIKE on drums, and Copenhagen's GB (Gustav B) on keys and strings. "Someone come and save me from the devil / I’m left outside," sighs Njoku in his processed falsetto as the snare drum snaps. On "Pretty Gospel," the Paris-based Japanese-Congolese artist Kiala Ogawa sings, "In my arms," guiding the listener into a somnambulant trance. The lullabic warmth is a respite from the weather, and world outside– "Another day to dream." The final movement gives 'Quiet Storm' its culminating release. "If This Is Hell" is assembled in a single take as a stream-of-consciousness from NYC’s Kaiuna Odogba aka Deuén, whose relatable array of spiraling brain activity is matched by jazzy, frenetic percussion. The pressure valve opens, as the phased drums and sharp conversational observational dispatched phrases cut abruptly after the line, "I wonder if that’s what heaven’s like?" We are left suspended in the comfort of the album's closer "Regards." Rainfall meets organ, drone, strings, and keys with gun reloads juxtaposed over tranquil hums. Heavy yet hopeful, Joshua Tarelle Reid and Joshua Inyang remind you of their journey so far. An appropriately cryptic and transportive outro for their open-ended opus, 'Quiet Storm' is a landmark level-up, self-produced, self-funded, and manifested out of sheer drive and conviction. Through bent time and low-lit haze, undoubtedly, Space Afrika has arrived.

Howie B and Hiraki Sawa's 3 Sticks is an audio-visual collaboration built around repetition, rhythm and transformation. Recorded live at Konk Studios in London, it begins with the simple sound of wood striking wood before unfolding into a layered interplay of analogue visuals and electronic sound. Moving through three distinct phases, 3 Sticks shifts from euphoric, groove-led passages into more dissonant and reflective territory before arriving at a restless, dystopian finale. Drones, percussion and evolving textures create a constantly changing dialogue between sound and image. Inspired by the writings of D.T. Suzuki, the project explores ideas of selfhood, impermanence and interconnectedness, drawing on both Eastern and Western perspectives. The result is a collaborative work that blurs the boundaries between music, visual art and performance.

A masterpiece released in 2006 by Nightmares on Wax—who have remained at the forefront of electronic and soul music for over 30 years—as a tribute to the reggae culture they’ve been immersed in since childhood. Centered on sounds rooted in Jamaica, the album organically fuses dub, soul, jazz, and hip-hop. With its simple yet addictive rhythms, synth lines reminiscent of Quincy Jones, a bluesy feel, and Balearic melodies, this warm sound has never lost its luster and continues to captivate countless listeners—a landmark album that marked a new pinnacle in their career.

This is the second album released in 1995 by Nightmares on Wax, a group that has remained at the forefront of electronic and soul music for over 30 years. Centered on hip-hop, the album organically fuses dub, soul, jazz, Latin percussion, and old-school breakbeats, distilling a rich musical lineage—spanning from reggae to dance music—into a single groove. The smoky sound, woven from passionate soul vocals, saxophone loops, piano, and Rhodes, had a profound influence on subsequent trends in electronic music. A masterpiece representative of 1990s downtempo that continues to resonate deeply to this day.

After a successful run of early EPs and his debut double LP You!, Producer and Singer-Sing Writer Alek Lee returns to Antinote with his new album Like a Flower — an 8-track journey (plus 3 digital bonus dubs) that feels like open-heart surgery. With raw vulnerability, Lee exposes his deepest fears, pain, and inspirations, singing straight from the gut, but also sending words of inspiration and hope. From dub-infused vibes like the opening track Alright featuring My Lord, to grungy ‘90s trip-hop stylings on Compensation and the title track Like a Flower, the album showcases Alek’s wide emotional and sonic range. He shifts seamlessly into smoky, Sade-esque moods on tracks like Change, Let the Sun Just Shine, and Hold On — intimate ballads exploring heartbreak and existential reflection. With his signature blend of melodica, live percussion, guitars, vocal choirs, and lush '80s synths, Alek Lee locks you into his unique sonic universe. His brutally honest, yet deceptively simple lyrics are dressed as balearic dub-pop bangers.

Cult digidub mutators Froid Dub slow their steez to deeply knackered, ghostly levels on a follow-up to joints with Krikor and Ransom Note. Back with Parisian patrons Delodio, the pair bring a deep studio knowledge earned since the ‘90s (and their days together as Bosco) to a half hour of purposefully sluggish pressure slanted at the earliest or latest hours of the night/day. With Black Roots Players’ ‘Slow Tempo’ riddim possibly in the back of their mind, they keep it all heavily downbeat and rent with a psychoacoustic nous that draws lines between The Black Ark, GRM, and DJ Screw. ‘Deep’ feels like the onset of a space cake, all super blunted vox and wiggy synths, and ‘The Swap’ snaps tightly to slowed digidub templates, next to echoes of ’Slow Tempo’ in the cranky chords of the title tune. They really let the bass flare in acres of space on the spangled zingers ‘Too Digital’ and an acidic ‘Love’, whilst crossing lines with Full Circle’s proto-goa trance in ‘Diggin’’ and the swampy motion of ‘No Sense’.

“Baby It Cold Outside” is a new album by Lavurn. The music is a lovesick nod to the turn of the millenium and the ones who helped show us the way.

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.

A leading light of neo-ambient takes their maiden bow on Glasgow’s stealthily expansive co:clear label after cherished turns with the sferic and Stroom labels. The International Billionaire’s Love Child, or tiblsc for brevity, is the avatar of a Leipzig-based artist in possession of a distinctive, world-building ambient purview that has clearly stroked a nerve for listeners chasing the modern ambient zeitgeist, especially their couplet of ‘Delusive Tongue Shifts - Situation Based Compositions’ (2021) + ‘Hypertranslucent’ (2022). Those albums’ careful bends of pulpy sentiment and intricate, immersively dreamlike architecture is now echoed in ‘City of Something’, where her tender feel for compression and blends of HD and lo-fi tones fosters a gauzy sense of depth perception and sonorous emotional resonance. More so than her previous work, the eight tracks here are laced with a flickering pop spirit that riddles the album’s finely meshed dimensions, calling to mind aspects of Perila that are whisked to its most elegant frisson in ‘Resting Bitch Face’, or catching breathy contrails of an airspun pop song in ‘The Sun Really Is Something Round’, whilst tickling private parts of the imagination with the compressed artefacts of ‘You Just Want’, edging on Shinetiac’s take on smudged sheogaze trip hop in ‘Scare Me’, and teasing the most elusive urges on a secretive, quietly restive closer ‘Until the End of Time’.

Friend, james K’s critically-acclaimed third album, opens as a portal and continues to garner a life of its own, a constant earworm that continually resonates as the map of its emotional cartography shifts into new ground. The map continues to unfold with Friend Remixes. Speaking on the remixes, K says: “Friends remix Friend. It is such a sweet honour to have my friends and collaborators, whose work has inspired mine, interpret and translate this work into new narratives.”

It is often said that we find it hard to stare at the light, however, the universe never lights out. This first premise from As Above, So Below is the base point for the setting of what follows. A group of rabble-rousing guerillères from the commune decide to go bowling. They had entered the forest, followed its winding paths, and emerged blind after staring at the universe for too long. No longer able to find their way by observing the stars, they now have to climb on the houses and feel the vernacular roofing to find out in which direction they’re heading. They get to the bowling alley all amped up. The punters insist on lighting their cigarettes - they’re not interested in matches but rather in the cardboard cover that attaches them. The only striking going on is the sound of the skittles getting scattered, syncopating with saturated basslines, mixed vocal techniques, heavy fx, and feeding into an arsenal of bells and percussions. They start stomping on the alleys as if this was a housewarming party and they had to break in a newly laid wood floor. Moving in circles, they eventually fall through it and end up in a room where the light has been swallowed. A band including none of its original members is performing, they can only hear a warm yet throbbing hum. They soon realise the massive rolling sub is getting louder and louder and adjusting its pitch. The dust their feet was lifting is slowly sweeping around the floor and gathering in patches and lines, drawing out the Chladni figures they had seen in their dreams, experiencing the same thoughts at the same moment, they inscribe them on a loquat leaf.

D&B torch carriers UVB-76 pay dues to Bristol’s rich trip hop history with Lucid Dreams’ debut LP marriage of OG ‘90s dank with subtle touches of club pressure slowed to cinematic, doom-jazzy vapours RIYL Raime, Tricky, Jabu, Bohren & der Club of Gore. The Lucid Dreams handle signifies Jason Luxton aka Clarity’s marked switch from inch-tight contemporary D&B into roughly-related downbeat interzones surely evoking a putative, nocturnal Bristol for anyone raised on Tricky, Portishead or Massive Attack classics. Seemingly crafted by candlelight and bathed in opiated atmosphere, the album unfurls a midnight soundscape in considerable depth across 15 parts in 64’ - plenty time to roll one (or two) and luxuriate in the LP’s carefully plotted course of dub-swept, smudged bass ’n drums and smoky pall. Like Raime before him, Lucid Dreams ideally inhabits a certain dark slipstream of intrigue that riddles post-punk thru to trip hop and its downbeat descendents, but also factored with a feel for D&B’s psychoacoustic spatial engineering that is key to his music’s appeal. Exquisite attention is paid to the dusty jazz drums and low register spectres shapeshifting its cloistered structures from the Bohren-pced doom shuffle of ‘Smoke & Mirrors’ up to what feels like dark echoes of proto-Goa or sci-fi scores in ‘Reincarnation’. His noirish ‘Reverie’ plays out like a Tricky witching hour special, and ‘Clairvoyance’ feels like Photek or SD on 33-not-45, next to dankest Wild Bunch/early Massive Attack nod ‘Slow-Wave’, and ‘Sleepwalking’ balances Flying Saucer Attack and ‘Mezzanine’ vibes, whilst ‘Transcendence’ holds a fine line of weightless ‘90s noir tension into the high plains drift of a ‘Realisation’ recalling aspects of Memotone’s ‘Warm Shadows’. A real sleeper gem.

Formed in Taipei in 2013, Scattered Purgatory (破地獄) has occupied a liminal space between drone, ambient, psychedelic folk and ritualistic kosmiche experimentation. Their early work, including ‘Lost Ethnography of the Miscanthus Ocean’ (2014) and ‘God of Silver Grass’ (2016), blended dense instrumental drones, improvisational guitar, and ambient textures rooted in the heat, humidity, and urban pulse of Taiwan. Over the years, the duo-turned-band has drawn on Krautrock, minimalist electronic music, and heavy drone traditions while remaining firmly grounded in Taiwanese geography and culture. ‘Post Purgatory’ emerges after a three-year hiatus following the pandemic, a period the band describes as pivotal to the album’s conception. “The feeling of loss and uncertainty has later become the inspiration of this record, and ‘time’ is the main theme – it can heal or it can destroy,” they explain. Musically and lyrically, the record traverses Taiwanese, traditional Chinese, and English, reflecting the multilingual fabric of Taipei life. While there isn’t a linear storyline, metaphor and poetry imbue the lyrics with reflections on love, loss, and the human experience, interlaced with influences of Hokkien and Mando pop and traces of trip-hop. Recorded half in their home and half at the studio where they composed their first album, ‘Post Purgatory' integrates precision, clarity, and digital production techniques. Guest contributions—from White Wu’s dynamic drumming to Minyen Hsieh’s tenor saxophone and dotzio’s sci-fi-infused vocals—expand the band’s sonic palette, creating a doom metal record shaped by electronic sensibilities. ‘Post Purgatory’ is a statement of loss and re-empowerment, a bridge between their past and present. Through it, Scattered Purgatory reclaim their distinctive voice, presenting a sound that is at once rooted in Taiwan, informed by global musical traditions, and unflinchingly forward-looking.

Rabit takes his DJ Screw worship to heavily absorbing trip hop levels on a magnum opus of codeine-soaked tape loops and creeping vapours, including a guest spot from Lolina. By any measure it’s his strongest solo LP - huge RIYL Tricky, BoC, Croww, The Caretaker, Andy Stott, Basinski, Lynch & Badalamenti. In the decade since a debut album on influential witch-house label Tri Angle, Rabit has become a singular figure at the intersection of US rap, weightless grime and experimental electronic music, defining his sound on a string of crooked albums, DJ Screw-indebted mixtapes, and jams with everyone from Chino Amobi to Croww, besides production work for Björk and Boy Harsher. Perhaps notable by his absence in recent years, the Texan producer has clearly spent his time well in the studio, refining and adapting his process and distilling thoughts to analog tape loops for ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’; a heavily immersive half hour of sublimated, super groggy pressure that we’ve spent months wrapped up in and can 100% confirm its sandman potency. Logically, he derives from a formula of DJ Screw x Basinski x ‘Old Tapes’-era BoC something that transcends the sum of its parts, yielding a real go-to album primed for wake ’n bake times or, conversely, the far ends of the night - basically liminal music for heavy lids, carefully sequenced in a way that quietly displays all his stripes and unfolds its function with uncanny efficacy. Feels like a spoiler to say, but the closing ‘Ghost’ piece of chopped ’n screwed Badalamenti vibes, slowing and dusting a snippet of ‘Twin Peaks’-type intrigue & stuff, is arguably his finest moment in 14 years of releases, and the perfectly memorable kiss-off or denouement to an album that remains lodged in mind long after it’s finished. No doubt, it’s one of the year’s great albums so far.

Finally on wax; Shiner, Pontiac Streator and Ben Bondy's West Mineral debut as Shinetiac is a real downtempo pleasure, re-imagining classic Trip Hop with a gooey cybernetic core, hugely recommended for anyone on the line from Hysterical Love Project to Seefeel, Olive to A.S.O., Ulla to Arovane. All three members of Shinetiac are best known for their tenure in the neo-ambient weeds, gathering bounties for 3XL, Quiet Time, Motion Ward and of course Huerco S.'s West Mineral. Anyone familiar with their various side projects and solo deployments will have already clocked their obsessions with classic dreampop, trip-hop and cloud rap, and those influences are fully thrust into the foreground here, with the more trad ambient elements used as little more than decoration. 'Star Frog Dilla' opens the set and combs illusory Olive-like vocal harmonies over a jumble of choppy jazz samples and sirens, with a glitch-heavy beat that harks back to an earlier, simpler iteration of IDM. What makes it so inviting is that Shinetiac fashion a loveletter to pre-internet cultural collisions, pooling their empathetic energies in a lushly amorphous slant on ambient dance strung between classic Trip Hop, HD late ‘90s / early ‘00s electronic music x vaporous hypermodernism. They cycle freely from the curdled reflux of Y2K business in ‘Night Coomy’ to rudely electrified beatdown on another standout, ‘K2 Spiritual’ and its spongiform centrepiece ‘Prayer For Kim Cassidy’ calling to mind the most genteel ends of RDJ, lavishing electro drums over a seemingly dark backdrop and changing the mood immediately. Soon they're in almost balearic territory, turning moonlight into an island dawn with Orbital-esque time-stretched vocal echoes and SFX. The trio increase the tempo on 'Dog Cafe Rioz', working in that double/half-time mode that's been such a fixture on off-piste dancefloors in the last few years and letting languid electric piano phrases form hazy vapour trails. It all builds to 'Everlong', a cover of the Foo Fighters' 1997 anthem that Shinetiac spy through the lens of Sneaker Pimps - whose landmark '6 Underground' arrived only a year prior. It's a form of historical fantasy, imagining an interaction that never happened but maybe should have? Because it works, stripping away the bombast and replacing it with moody low-end pulses and pure vibes.

Sakura is without doubt the most loved and lauded entry in Susumu Yokota’s catalogue.

The music unravels like cascades of petals falling from the eponymous cherry blossom trees. Yokota intended to ‘express ki-do-ai-raku (the four emotions; joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness) through music’, and throughout Sakura, the effect fluctuates between profound tranquillity, hesitation, melancholy and joy with ease, addressing the fickle nature of human emotion, while transcending the inclination to label moods entirely.

Sakura became Yokota’s best selling album. It was greeted with universal acclaim, lauded by Philip Glass and Brian Eno and launched Yokota internationally.

‘A bittersweet beauty, heightened by the sadness that all things must one day end.’ - Martyn Pepperell

Originally released in 1994, Protection is Massive Attack’s second album, refining the Bristol sound they introduced on Blue Lines and helping to define the contours of what would become known as trip‑hop.

Released in 1998 as Massive Attack’s third studio album, this work is regarded as their masterpiece. Unlike the soulful and jazzy atmosphere of their previous albums Blue Lines and Protection, it deepened the trip-hop sound while strongly incorporating influences from post-punk and industrial, resulting in a cold and heavy sonic landscape. Issued by Virgin Records as a 180-gram double LP edition.

Cult digidub mutators Froid Dub slow their steez to deeply knackered, ghostly levels on a follow-up to joints with Krikor and Ransom Note. Back with Parisian patrons Delodio, the pair bring a deep studio knowledge earned since the ‘90s (and their days together as Bosco) to a half hour of purposefully sluggish pressure slanted at the earliest or latest hours of the night/day. With Black Roots Players’ ‘Slow Tempo’ riddim possibly in the back of their mind, they keep it all heavily downbeat and rent with a psychoacoustic nous that draws lines between The Black Ark, GRM, and DJ Screw. ‘Deep’ feels like the onset of a space cake, all super blunted vox and wiggy synths, and ‘The Swap’ snaps tightly to slowed digidub templates, next to echoes of ’Slow Tempo’ in the cranky chords of the title tune. They really let the bass flare in acres of space on the spangled zingers ‘Too Digital’ and an acidic ‘Love’, whilst crossing lines with Full Circle’s proto-goa trance in ‘Diggin’’ and the swampy motion of ‘No Sense’.

Introducing Luka Lickshot aka Luke Palmer aka the Wolverhampton Wolverine, reggae DJ and genre warping producer of all things low end inclined. In previous incarnations Luke has released hypnagogic house for labels such as Workshop and Third Ear, but with his debut LP release ‘Shots Fired’ he takes a sharp turn into the leftfield. Sonically triangulating early 80s Manc post punk existentialism, 90s darkside trip hop and UK (On-U) sound system culture, the result is something like a more ruffneck Massive Attack jamming with Dome in the Black Ark. ‘Shots Fired’ was forged in an underground Peckham hideout, under strict parameters of time and space, fusing conventional instrumentation with digi know-how, improvised vocals, one take licks and dub fx. Pretty much impossible to pigeonhole the ten tracks but adjacent to / resonant with Giulio Erasmus, DJ Marcelle, Tricky, ‘Hex’….

An air of ancient ritualism cloaks Modern Love’s midnight meeting between UK producer MOBBS and French-Egyptian spellcaster Susu Laroche, carving out a channel between hexed trip hop and shoegaze that’s one part DJ Screw, one part MBV, operating within a long shadow of influence cast by Curve, Leila, Cocteau Twins, Nearly God.

Clasping chiral energies on their debut collab, MOBBS brings a history spanning shadowy production work for big name artists to the grimly stylised vein of performance art and musick explored by Susu Laroche, an Egyptian-French with strong binds to chthonic contemporary London. 

Their maiden sacrifice heightens the senses to blends of monotonic, sandalwood scented incantations and carpet-burned downbeats swept in slurred dub. Songs are subtly variegated in tone to spell out shifting plays of light evoking bedsit antechambers and warehouse innards lit by iPhone candle or extractor hood and emergency light bulbs on their last lumens. 

It's music that's as elaborately serrated and blemished as early MBV, but positioned in a vastly different cultural landscape, drawing from hip-hop, drone, psych and basement noise. The pair’s range of cultural obsessions maintains a precarious balance between shadowy histories and an asphyxiating present; all too often, when the past is projected it's thru a mollifying, nostalgic lens, so their critical, prudent hybrid sound is a vital, chilling corrective.

From the bell-ringing, chain-rattle jag of ‘Throne’ thru the sleepwalker drift of ‘Roam’, and concrete plangency of ‘Forest’, the marriage of MOBBS’ illusive textures with Laroche’s feel for analog image and film (as evinced in her art for the likes of Blackhaine and Mica Levi) imprints their sound in gauzy layers that leave fleeting impressions on the mind’s eye. At their heaviest, Laroche’s arcane declarations descend in impressive enactments, undressing the excesses of over-glossed trip hop to reveal and revel in the sound at its starkest, sexiest, for new waves of washed up souls.
 

22nd anniversary reissue of what is for us one of the greatest albums of the late 20th century, originally released on Rephlex in 1998, now painstakingly remastered by Rashad Becker after being unavailable on any format for more or less two decades. If you’re into anything from Prince to A Guy Called Gerald, Tirzah to Jai Paul, Autechre to Rick Rubin - this really is an all-time great.

When you make a record that doesn’t conform, expect to divide opinion. ‘Like Weather’ was released in 1998, on Rephlex - run by Grant Wilson Claridge and Richard D James - an often great label that had a following that couldn't quite deal with electronic music made by a girl - let alone one that used vocals. Everything those lads couldn’t fathom about ‘Like Weather’ is essentially what makes it untouchable; one of the greatest, most effortlessly esoteric pop albums ever made, not in the lineage of IDM or Trip Hop, genres it has so often been awkwardly lumped in with, but something else that cant quite be categorised - even two decades later.

‘Like Weather’ echoes the world-building energy of Prince’s ‘Sign O The Times’ - every track is a self contained universe all its own, there are no rules or conventions - it’s full of hooks, but also insular as fuck, the production is all over the place and it still sounds like nothing else (although if you’re into the Mica Levi-produced Tirzah album, know that this here is the aesthetic, spiritual blueprint). It feels analog, then digital - it’s R&B, but also baroque music box, drone pop, experimental, electronic, junglist - attempting to define it is like trying to cup mercury in the palm of your hands; it’ll just find something else to slide into.

In 2020 we reckon it’s time to re-appraise ‘Like Weather’ as one of the great overlooked albums of our age, made by a female auteur operating in an overwhelmingly male-dominated scene at the turn of the century. Now newly remastered by Rashad Becker (a long, 6 month process - trust that a lot of work has gone into it) - it sounds fucking amazing, one of only a handful of records that have never left our side since we opened our doors in 1998.

So yeah, we could write a long thing here about Leila’s background playing keyboard for Bjork, her meeting with the Rephlex lads, the Aphex connection etc etc, but ‘Like Weather is a record that needs no hype - for real - listen to it and you’ll know.

Following up last year's acclaimed 'Heavy Glory' and collabs with Dean Blunt and Yung Lean, Iceage's Elias Rønnenfelt maxes on Yves Tumor-indebted hyper-sexual '90s indie-isms, trading sniffs 'n sneers with Erika de Casier, Fine and The Congos. RIYL Happy Mondays, Primal Scream or Bar Italia.

Rønnenfelt's always been good at predicting tidal shifts. Even when he was a teen fronting hardcore punk heroes Iceage he repeatedly bucked expectations, choosing to tour with fringe noise operatives like Helm and evolve the band's sound into something more like Spiritualized, augmenting chugging Britpop references with a full gospel choir on 2021's 'Seek Shelter'. So when his solo debut arrived last year, its peculiarity was almost a given; why wouldn't it be a set of country-tinted folk-rock jammers backed up with covers of Spacemen 3 and Townes Van Zandt? 'Speak Daggers', though, is a different beast altogether. Made in his bedroom between tours, it's a thicker, more confidently obstinate album than its predecessor that plays more like a continuation or evolution of 'Seek Shelter'. So after a smirking fake-out with the Nyman-esque 'Intro', 'Crush the Devil's Head' busses us to Manchester via Oxford, juxtaposing its cheeky melodica moans with Rønnenfelt's best Thom Yorke impression.

'Love How It Feels' sounds like Primal Scream reimagined by Yves Tumor, all thick sampled breaks, bolshy doomsaying and clammy glam undertones. There's an era-appropriate jaunt to Jamaica on 'Not Gonna Follow' that repurposes material Rønnenfelt recorded with The Congos and I-Jahbar when he was out in Jamaica a few years ago and sounds as if it could have fallen off the notorious '...Yes Please' sessions. And on 'Mona Lisa', he uses the Bobby Byrd 'Hot Pants' break that The Stone Roses famously twinned with Mani's enduring bassline on 'Fools Gold' - Rønnenfelt's tale of heartbreak isn't quite as toothsome, but it's a good indicator of where his head's at. A duet with Erika de Casier helps bolster highlight 'Blunt Force Trauma', and Rønnenfelt's Escho bandmate Fine - whose voice graces Two Shell's 'Home' - pitches in on 'Kill Your Neighbor', tapping into the seam between Denise Johnson and Hope Sandoval.