Maybe it’s been a foolish endeavor, and maybe I’m the only one who misses the blog ol’ days, but I’ve been giving it a shot. I’ve been working on restoring some of the old content, though much of it was lost. I’ve slowly been rebuilding the old remix sunday archives, and even posting the occasional new edition. And I’ve been writing again.
You can find all the label’s releases here, on bandcamp, or most anywhere you listen to music these days. I’ve still got copies of some of the old vinyl releases, and I recently released the first in a set of charitable cassette compilations to raise awareness about the continued [mis]use of broken windows policing methods.
Plus, I put together a playlists section with a handful of spotify lists that hopefully start to capture a [slightly] updated version of the moods we used to peddle. Give those a listen and a ❤ if you would be so kind. If you want to get in touch, just give me a holler.
Bittersweet vapor twitch from LA-based yeong. On instagram, yeong described this as a ‘getting laid off from corporate america type beat.’ That explains why this is a little melancholy, but also has a vein of fuck y’all attitude running through it.
No bandcamp, unfortunately, but you can stream it on all the usual outlets.
omniboi is a Los Angeles-based producer and composer, originally from Arizona. He rose to some prominence in 2016-17 with a viral video in which he married a Migos acapella with Nintendo-jazz-chic chords, followed soon after by a string of notable singles and albums. He’s current with a new EP, Panorama, out now on Canadian powerhouse label and management group, Nettwerk.
After listening to a few songs from Panorama, it won’t be hard to gather that this is music heavily inspired by video game culture. But it’s not really 8-bit or chiptune. Instead, songs like “Ghost Town, USA” or “Marathon” feel distinctly 64-bit, and would fit right in on an N64 of Wii score. Music from that era of Nintendo games was deeply charming; these songs carry much of that charm because they’re so clearly the product of omniboi’s sincere love for that music.
Nevertheless, I’d say omni is strongest when approaching the less overtly video game-inspired fare on the record. The EP’s lead track “Set Apart” (featuring vocalist Dona) and “Omni-Vision” (featuring nelward) both temper the rubber and sodapop aesthetic that omni’s most comfortable in with a touch of red leather and champagne. Neither would be out of place in the context of a late aughts fluokids party in Paris where the DJ was playing nothing but French Touch and bloghaus. None of that is to say these are stuffy songs only for millennials either—they’re not—they just seem aimed at a broader audience. (I caught my two-year-old absent-mindedly shaking her stuff to “Set Apart,” and babies don’t lie, so that might also tell you something.)
Ultimately, Panorama is omniboi continuing to write the kind of music he loves, but there’s also evidence he might be eager to see his music working a few more dancefloors.
Panorama is out now. Grab it on bandcamp or stream it anywhere streams are sold.
omniboi – “Set Apart” ft. Dona (sc)
omniboi – “Marathon” (sc)
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This review was written in support of the artist’s promotional campaign.
Yet another nice submission from Belgium here. Something is drawing my ear to music from Flanders lately. This time it’s from Brussels-based producer Danube. Like his namesake river, Danube’s latest string of singles all relate to major European cities from which he’s drawn inspiration. Though none of the other singles are named after cities actually in the river Danube’s path, the latest is. It’s an elegant cut of soulful cosmopolitan electronica that captures Vienna well.
No bandcamp for this, unfortunately, but you can find it on any major streaming outlet.
I mentioned the other day that I’ve been rediscovering my appreciation for a nice heavy-bassline-driven banger. Why be shy about it? I pride myself on avoiding pretentiousness where I can, and what’s wrong with rattling a few bones, anyway? This track I got in the inbox by Montreal-based borne fits that bill. The song is from borne’s latest EP, Deep End, out on Nightmode. The whole record is full of this sort of bass-heavy 2-step, so check out the rest if you like this one.
No bandcamp for this, unfortunately, but you can stream it wherever, and if you want to play this out, you’re going to have to go to a place like beatport, sorry.
Just like their curation, Clipp.Art press releases are always spot on. The blurb for this single from Levi.—an artist based in Japan—describes the music as “kinda catwalk music. Slinky. Low-slung. Lo-fi,” all of which is perfectly on the nose. This song evokes a little bit of that classic Le Le song, “Breakfast” — but if they had been more concerned with fashion and leather, versus food and seduction.
Grab this on bandcamp or stream it to heart’s desire.
Sometimes when I’m overwhelmed with work and my daughter wakes up with the umpteenth round of high fever or other daycare-related ailment, I just wish I could take a break and spend an evening on another planet. I’d be willing to settle for one of Jupiter’s moons too.
This innocent little lullaby from Kuwaiti a.MIDI is from their newest EP of songs that all imagine these sorts of quick calming vacations around the solar system.
Second time this week I’ve posted music from Belgium. I told you that country doesn’t get enough shine for its music.
This time it’s from JUICY, a pair of classically trained musicians making really compelling pop music and doing their best to subvert genre expectations. This song is from the recently released Cruelles Formes EP, produced in collaboration with equally talented countrymen ECHT!.
My French isn’t as sharp as it should be, and JUICY definitely embrace a certain lyrical expressionism and abstraction in some of their music, but I get the gist. I don’t have enough money either. Can someone explain to me what they might mean by: “rrrjrsfmr jrahtogpb” though?
No bandcamp for this, but you can stream it all over.
Bittersweet breakup melancholia from nomadic duo Sasha & the Bear. Definitely the kind of song one might listen to a few times after rowing all night. 💔
No bandcamp for Sasha & The Bear, but you can stream this wherever you do that.
I’ve written about these guys a coupleof times now. Previous tracks by 4am Kru have been mostly peak time focused club tools, but this one’s a lovely pop ballad masquerading as a jungle track. Featuring the vocal stylings of Mancurian singer/producer Salo.
Many people don’t think of Belgium as a place with a rich history of contributions to dance music. Some may only recall 2 Unlimited’s 1993 masterpiece “No Limit” or Technotronic’s classic “Pump Up The Jam”–both of which were extremely formative for me when I heard them as a little kid. Maybe others associate the country with groundbreakers like Soulwax/2manydjs, who are indeed Belgian and not French. The country is no doubt overlooked, despite the fact that Belgians have been raving since before raving was raving, and essentially birthed genres like EBM. But despite its significant contributions, Beligum’s proximity to its northern neighbors means its sound is generally associated with eurodance, gabber, and industrial influences.
For his new EP Echoes, Belgian producer D-Nite (real name Kevin Dodeur) certainly draws on his country’s history, but leaves most of those typical associations behind, instead opting to deliver a record full of strong global influence and tempo-shifting adventurism. From the rapid-fire kuduro of “Late Night Tale” to the tablas loops of “Calming Mantra” and the chopped jazz rides of “Stuck in a Dream” — Dodeur clearly embraces the breakbeat, but won’t be limited to overreliance on American JB production or UK Amens. (Not to be accused of leaving anyone out though, Dodeur does throw in a few bars of the Think break on the EP’s title track.) Dodeur is a committed travel guide on this record, insisting that the listener follow him around the world from party to party. But it’s a great trip, so who would complain?
Echoes is out now on Fine Grains records, purchase it on bandcamp now, or stream it wherever you do that sort of thing.
You may have noticed some of the harder sounds of yesteryear’s Palms Out showing up here and there again on the site. I promised some of this last year, but it felt a bit forced at the time. Now, raising a toddler, navigating an ever more demanding dayjob, and feeling generally stretched at the seams somehow has me getting energized again by big pulsing basslines, sharp punchy drums, and neat little energy-building devices (yes, drops, but you know, other similar tension-creating details too). All these are all present on this heater of a track by Puerto Rican producer ELIS. I don’t gig anymore, but I expect this would blow up the right floor.
Unfortunately there’s no bandcamp for this, but thankfully ELIS was kind enough to let me share the 320 with all you DJs. And for those of you not planning on playing it out, who just like dancing at home, stream it at your outlet of choice.
When I got back to the studio with the recording I was satisfied with how it rattled along to all the synths be they smouldering or fully ablaze, the feeling of smoke billowing, whipped up in the air.
I tell myself all sorts of stories. Sometimes doing so may be in an effort to protect myself, sometimes to cut myself down. Honesty—including honest self reflection—is a noble goal, but we also need to nurture our own fantasy worlds. Without building those internal structures, how do we make sense of ourselves and our feelings? Without imagining what we might want, or what we need, how can we ever achieve anything–or at least how can we feel satisfied once we’ve achieved something?
On his latest album Notes, Cornwall’s Morris Cowan definitely gets at that comforting ‘writing electronic music in the forest’-type sound that you sometimes hear on a James Holden or Nathan Fake record. The song titles and cover art would imply that was the intention, or even the process. Or maybe, considering all the winds on the Cornwall coast keep forests from taking root, this is music for the rocky green expanse. In any case, this kind of intimacy is elusive for most composers of electronic music. Cowan describes some of the sound sources for the songs on the record: recordings of a cacophonous working wool loom he visited on the Isle of Mull, a 1990s Mattel toy drum machine, found-sound recorded by tapping sticks against trees. But for all of this field recording, it’s the songwriting and synthesis that give these songs most of their tenderness.
Grab Morris Cowan’s Notes on bandcamp now, or find it anywhere to stream.
Morris Cowan – “The Stories We Tell Ourselves” (sc)
Morris Cowan – “Toasting Marshmallows As The World Burns” (sc)
Declarations of lust and loyalty on this boppy bit of breakbeat pop from London-based producer and vocalist Kristy Harper. This is out now as a single on Silver Bear—the sometimes home of folks like Jasper Tygner and O’Flynn—and leads off Harper’s upcoming 18:04 EP, due in January.
This is another example of the kind of stuff I was writing about yesterday. But where I hesitated to call yesterday’s tracks internetcore, this one fits that bill much better.
We’re still in the same universe I was describing, heavily reliant on the building blocks of jungle: chopped amens and short, round, 808-like bass hits. But here cupsy (an artist based in Colorado Springs who also releases music under the name Dream Entact) and cybersona888 (who I can’t find any info about) definitely do head much further down the breakcore rabbithole. There’s also a marked attempt (conscious or instinctive) to incorporate elements of other internet genres. There are moments full of evil reese and post-gabber kick fills that–in this context–manage to function like a reprieve from the breakbeat mania. Large portions of the track also include a layer of [probably] memphis rap acapella that sits low enough in the mix to be mostly indecipherable, but clear enough to be a nod to the Russian drift phonk that ruled TikTok and Reels for a while a couple of years ago (I’ve got a soft spot for that stuff).
There are a lot of ingredients in this pot, but it all works together nicely. No bandcamp for this, but find it for streaming all over.
Is there a microgenre name for these sorts of shortform breakbeat-driven quasi-jungle tracks, usually with heavy reference to internet culture, anime, and gaming? I’m not slighting the stuff, some of it is great, but it really feels like it’s definitely a thing, and I don’t have a name for it. I guess this is sort of what I imagine kids who would have been making breakcore 15 years ago are doing instead (some of them are definitely still incorporating breakcore). And I’d also guess this is kind of close to the world that gave birth to legit stars like PinkPantheress. Calling this internetcore feels too broad, since my experience is that encompasses much more than what I’m trying to describe.
I really like these three tracks I got in the mailbox from ERRx. All three short and sweet slices of this genre I don’t have a name for, none longer than two minutes. I know nothing about this artist — their twitter location is listed as ‘not here’, and their bio on all socials is:
c r i t i c a l ERRx d e t e c t e d @ criticalxerrorx E̶̪̺̖̗͍̠̖̲̭̲̜̘̊͝R̶̨̜͍̳̙̪̭̽̎̀͠R̸̛̝̤̬͓̻̫̩̣̳̀͒͒̌͂̓̾͂͊̐͝͠x̷̛̰̲͛̿̾̈́̐̎̄̓̕͜͝͝͠ ̸̣͍͚͍̭̙̝̬̀̔͐̓̒̋̚
I even tried to do some sleuthing by seeing where their spotify listeners are concentrated. Almost evenly distributed between London, Santiago, LA, Melbourne, and Paris. You can’t get much more worldwide than that. Or I guess the operative word is online. Maybe we can just call this microgenre ‘online jungle’?
No bandcamp for ERRx, so follow their soundcloud, or stream them all over.
ERRx – “I miss having LAN parties” (sc)
ERRx – “I made an error” (sc)
ERRx – “who are you” (remix) ft. Brooke Elise (sc)
An elegant bit of well-polished organic house music from London producers Urchin (Leo Appleyard) and Kmodo (Chris Nickolls). The pair both come from improvised jazz backgrounds so it’s no wonder there’s a cultivated quality to this song, and not surprising there’s some real perfect swing on that kit. What’s maybe surprising is how not jazzy this is. This is not an endeavor to combine jazz and house music, it’s simply a very well executed piece of modern dance music. No need for much extra embellishment.
Out now on streaming, but no bandcamp, I’m afraid.
I consistently get the sense that Canadians are underappreciated as producers of electronic music. Sure, a few of them get plenty of well-deserved credit as the groundbreakers they are—looking at you Plastikman, Tiga, A-trak. And even in recent years, deserving folks like Kaytranada and Jacques Greene have made more than respectable careers for themselves. But I’m always amazed that for a country of only ~35 million people, there is such a high concentration of talent up there. This feels especially true with respect to technical prowess. A lot of the producers I run across from north of the border just have major fucking chops.
RiDylan (real name Dylan Gauthier) is one of those producers. For well over a decade, he’s been releasing music that lives somewhere in the universe between breakcore, jungle, acid, and glitch. Notably, in 2019 he released what appears to have been the next-to-final record on Jason Forrest’s Cock Rock Disco imprint–a real brain-melter collection of fucked up ravey junglism (check that release here).
Gauthier’s latest release, a five-track EP called Switch 8, still exists in the universe he’s inhabited over the years, but some of the ebullient rave chaos of past releases has been replaced by more of an icy refinement. This is exemplified by a song like “Eternal Minutes” — a stripped-back 150+bpm electro number with tightly EQ’d drums underpinning a bitcrushed acid bassline and a meandering glassy sine wave pattern–who knew a bitcrusher could be used so carefully? The record’s opener, “Balaclava Clouds” also demonstrates how Gauthier is saying something new using familiar tools. The amen break reprogramming is as detailed and complicated as anything he’s produced in the past, but instead of piling mayhem atop the sturm und drang, here the 303 isn’t much more than a single triplet squelch that automates in and out of audibility. Save for the breakbeat kaleidoscope and minimalist acid licks, the track is just a huge cloud of bells and pads. These may sound like simple changes to have made, but capitalizing on the contrast of these disparate elements–and delivering each with such care–ends up functioning as an effective way to communicate a set of nuanced emotions instead of just fire and brimstone or all-out-rave.
The other three songs on the record are admittedly more reminiscent of Gauthier’s breakcore past–including an absolutely frenzied remix to close out the record by Osaka legend Laxenanchaos. But despite all the breakbeat havoc, these last three still demonstrate an evolution. Even the Laxenanchaous remix elegantly winds itself down in the final minute of the EP from disarray to relative simplicity, ending with a few seconds of what sounds like a field recording of children playing on the street, set to a Vangelis score.
Gauthier is making music as energetic as ever, but his palette–both sonically and emotionally–is expanding to include subtler shades between all of the primaries.
RiDylan – “Balaclava Cloud” (bc)
RiDylan – “Eternal Minutes” (bc)
RiDylan – Turbocide (Laxenanchaos Remix) (bc)
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This review was written in support of the artist’s promotional campaign.
Exuberant muscular g-house from Alfa Cornae–one pseduonym of Italian genre chameleon Marco Dassi–out last week on Dive Records. Bass go wonk wonk fast.
Also sharing the fittingly titled “Muscle Protein”–released earlier this year on Flash Mob. This one tastes a bit more of jacked up motor oil from the garridge, or I guess maybe that’s just a new protein powder flavor.
Both proper strong dance floor tools. Grab both on bandcamp or stream on your outlet of choice if you just want to dance at home or during your commute.
I’m having a great time. I’m in love with my body.
MangoMangoMango is Chicago-based Tanner Uselmann. After years of playing guitar in bands in Minneapolis, his move to Chicago was accompanied by a shift towards self-produced electronic music. (Chicago’s a good place for that.) He released his first record as MangoMangoMango in 2021, but this one is the first from a new batch of songs he’s getting ready to release in 2024. I know we tend towards the darker on this site, but there’s always room for this kind of self affirmation. It’s hard to love yourself. But bodies are just as fucking cool and gorgeous as they can be woefully complicated, and that should be celebrated. Apropos, my two-year-old daughter Iris told me today: “Iris loves Iris,” and I couldn’t have been prouder.
Grab “Body” for free on bandcamp, or stream it wherever. And look out for more from Uselmann in the new year.
Hi-res shattered breakbeat from London-based Vromm. From the plainest of square waves into twisted mutant orchestral jazz storms and through the inverse thunderclaps of an hyperreal cirrus cloud pattern. The title of this song is fitting, this is music for the sky.
Out now for purchase on bandcamp or stream it all over.
Tectonic plates move because they’re dragged along as the molten mantle flows beneath them. The mantle flows because of convection currents created by the heat of the Earth’s core. The earth’s core is hot because it’s full of radioactive elements in a state of perpetual decay.
If the first half of this song sounds like anything identifiable, it’s probably some part of that process. Maybe the crush of the plates colliding; or the drag as they slip off the mantle; or the hyper-rapid boil of the heavy metals in the core; or maybe the embodiment of decay itself. After three minutes of all that heat, the song gives way to a kobyz solo that feels like water pouring into the tectonic gash, eventually petering off like steam disappearing into the atmosphere.
From Brighton-based Czech/Argentinian producer Solbore, from his yet-released album, Never Alone, Often Lonely (out in Febrary). I’ve also selected another prerelease piece that features one of my favorite artists of the past few years, Varsity Star (I wrote about him last year)–a much sweeter affair, but no less compelling.
Preorder Never Alone, Often Lonelyon bandcamp, or stream the singles all over.
Solbore – “Seemingly Magic Things” ft. Inwards, Neil Cosgrove, Lachlan R. Dale, Nurbolat Kadyrbayev (bc)
Ainonow, real name Kyle Kroeck, is a Boston-based artist seeking to provide catharsis to his listeners. He aims to do this through razor-precise sound design at high tempos. He says he wants his music to allow listeners to embrace their dark sides–recognizing that darkness is part of being human–meanwhile providing a healthy and comforting space to channel those feelings. It’s not so often you hear this kind of emotional ambition from an artist working at the harder fringes of stateside Drum & Bass. And I’ll admit, I’m overall pretty cautious about dipping my toes into the vat of US bass music that includes Neuro, Mainline, and US-breaks. That stuff has just never been my bag. Above 160bpm, I’m just usually far more partial to the UK stuff: the grit and tangle of Jungle, the silkiness of old school Liquid.
But credit where credit is due, Ainonow is using some of the conventions of those US sub-genres to make something truly refined. This is incredibly intricately programmed music, with an impressive amount of patience and a refreshing lack of reliance on the standard build up+drop+breakdown/repeat structure. This is without doubt music for the dancefloor, but for all that the basslines may growl, they never stay in one place for long or quite repeat themselves. And those drums sound less like the lonely loopy staccato of typical D&B drum programming, and more as if someone spiked a marching band’s gatorade with adderall and convinced them the floor was lava. It’s refreshing to hear this level of thoughtful experimentation in this kind of packaging, especially from a producer so clearly concerned about how his music affects people emotionally. Big pad breakdowns, 90s nostalgia, ePiC dRoPs, and massive over-compression aren’t the only ways for an American bass music producer to coax strong feelings from people, and Ainonow is evidence of that.
Ainonow is current with two-tracker Exile. Grab it on bandcamp for free, or steam it on your outlet of choice.
Ainonow – “Exile” (sc)
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This review was written in support of the artist’s promotional campaign.
Bristol-based producer and vocalist bonsi is current with this arresting new single, her first solo work since her 2020 album Sustain (there was a great collaboration with Harvey Causon in 2021 that I’m also sharing below).
Clocking in at just over two and a half minutes, “Four Faces” is minimalist both compositionally and temporally, but it’s rich nonetheless. There are plenty of checkbox elements: found-sound rattles and scrapes, truncated sliding organ licks, hollowed-out bass stabs, all anchored by a nice sludgy kick rhythm. But it’s bonsi’s vocals that shine here. Instead of succumbing to the temptation to soak a pretty vocal like this in reverb, they’re just the right amount of dry, which gives them an immediacy; like someone singing to themselves at the bus stop or under an umbrella walking across town. Combined with a set of occasional up-and-down-pitched backing vocals, that immediacy takes on an almost dissociative quality, as if bonsi is right here next to you, but also slipping down a storm drain or up a chimney.
Grab the single on bandcamp or stream it all over.
Amy Godsey is a musician and apparel designer currently based in Los Angeles. Her latest album Ananta was written in the wake of loss: her best friend died, COVID exploded, and she left New York with just a suitcase and “no plans except to head west.” Despite the tumult of a time like that, Ananta isn’t sad or even what I’d call an exploration of grief exactly, but it does seem to reflect what Godsey was experiencing in its emotional ambivalence. It has an aimless quality about it, as if it was made as a cautious exercise in exploring newly available freedom. Songs and titles like “No Plans” address this notion most squarely, but a song like “Should I Meet You” expresses this peregrination best through a gently bubbling tomtom pattern that you can never quite catch hold of, sitting safely under a constantly undulating harp that keeps intersecting itself and occasionally collapses under the weight of its delay. Godsey is following her nose, letting the process dictate the result.
Ananta has its more straightforward moments too, no doubt; songs like “Mental Vibrations” and “Heartless in the Sea” rest on grounded drum machine patterns and riffs that feel familiar. But Godsey seems most lucid when she lets down these guardrails and allows the mess to spill out more. The album is strongest at its most meandering.
That’s not to say this is messy music; to the contrary, it’s meticulous music that–despite its reliance on electronic instruments–seems intended to address nature, both floral and faunal (and human). Nature is chaotic too, for all its perfection and beauty. This dichotomy is reflected on a song like “Windy”, which vacillates between breezy cascades of sine waves and the near-disconcerting babble of what sounds sort of like a digital didgeridoo. This subject matter is no coincidence. When Godsey left New York, she didn’t land in LA right away. The album was written while she was nomadic, living alone surrounded by wilderness. Ananta bottles some of the inspiration and serenity of that kind of setting, but also some of its danger. It’s freeing to breathe in cold forest air, but there are beasts out there too.
Amy Godsey – “Windy” (bc)
Amy Godsey – “Heartless in the Sea” (bc)
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This review was written in support of the artist’s promotional campaign.
Brilliant 160bpm stutter g-tech from the ever-prolific London-based Parisian, Big Dope P. I’m not sure who NaylahDMP is, but she’s not wrong when she says she’s doing top notch shit. Moveltraxx and Doppie remain as strong as ever.
Grab this on bandcamp and play it out loud. Or stream it at home wherever you do that. Just don’t do it seated.
You might recognize Berliner Fritz Kalkbrenner from his numerous features on early-aughts Sascha Funke records on BPitch, though many of those were officially uncredited. Kalkbrenner appears to have had a very healthy career since then, though mostly in a more progressive and mainstream vocal house and techno space than I tend to enjoy. Nonetheless, he’s current with a song that steps wholeheartedly into the warmer side of German house traditions, evocative somewhat of an older Henrik Schwartz record. That’s high praise from me.
No bandcamp for this, but you can find it on all the usual streaming outlets. Or if you want to play it out, grab the file on beatport.