The recording debut of a collaboration between Jordan ‘Jordache’ Czamanski and Ilya Ziblat Shay. Three freestyling chunks of hallucinatory electronica and freaking jazz; plus a sublime remix by Parisian maestro I:Cube, with MT’s wild keyboard lines, distant bells and general insobriety threading a tactile, sunrise-friendly house groove. Tropical jazz-funk for the synthesizer generation. Call it Balearic and die.

Plaque is a young Bristol label which knows what’s what; always worth checking.
Tiny runs so look sharp.
‘Founder of KUMP and Meth.O tapes, Lyon’s Marc-Étienne Guibert (AKA Gil.Barte) awakens his new Mert Seger moniker for a shadowy Plaque excursion. Nine slow burners strike from the murk with venomous precision.’

‘A work of intimacy, love, struggle, grandeur and sonic adventure,’ recorded in Geneva during 2013-4.

I really felt the need to work on something like In Major in the moment I started it. It’s instantly joy!
And only back then, during the storm, I thought of working on an album…

Eighteen freeform electronic miniatures by Lorenz Lindner — aka Mix Mup — after his love of experimental ambient and soundtrack idioms.

The monumental Chain Reaction classic, remastered by Robert Henke, and presented for the first time as a complete vinyl edition.
It’s a must; hotly recommended.

‘While absolutely rooted in the embryonic sound of European dub techno, Monolake’s early work possesses a back room, headphone-ready demeanour which lends itself to the album listening experience. In the cascade of rhythms created by precision engineered delays and subliminal, expansive spatial world building occurring throughout Hongkong, the stage is set for a full and thorough immersion. Before the Monolake sound progressed into a more pointillist form of computer music as Henke’s solo project, Hongkong presented a gritty, grainy sonic still tied in some way to the traditional methods of techno production, even as the artists’ ideas were sending the sequencing and arranging in exciting new directions.’

None other than Mick Harris from Napalm Death, and his deadly Midlands iteration of Detroit techno. Transatlantic motor-funk from the mid-nineties, when Brummie club-night the House Of God was alive and kicking. Still stinging.