Vocal duo Albert Bailey and Clifton Howell emerged from the trio The Officials. The Studio One 7” Ten Years Ago is them; also the stone-killer Babylonians, with Niney. Lee Perry re-named them The Ark. Here they are with Ossie Hibbert at Channel One… wicked, propulsive, vocal-harmony roots, with dazzling drumming, and a Shaka-missile of a dub, featuring Dean Fraser. Crucial bunny.

A stirring, percussive four-tracker. Wintry and submersible; smudged with mist, then silvered and clear as a bell, by turns. Bitten Dream is dark, atmospheric, hypnotic; Via Tekh summons vintage Objekt; Shrine despatches twisted 8-bit granularity into early Livity Sound and Carrier territory; lulling, ambient Catharsis lets go.

A mouth-watering collaboration; plus flips from Al Wootton and Ottomani Parker.
‘The opener Last Breath is a late-hour pelter: relentlessly moody and hypnotic, with heaving sub-bass pulses. Tunnel Drift switches lanes with its distinctive tech-stepping 90’s throwback style; a forward-thinking take on a nostalgic sound.
‘Al Wootton’s contribution is characteristically fresh and inventive dubbed-out house, with his signature layering of atmospheric textures, and a deep and groovy bassline.
‘After a blissful opening, the Ottomani Parker excursion overlays driving percussion with horns, keys and live hand-drumming; an uplifting finale.’

A terrific, fresh techno EP by Robin Stewart. Minimalist and dubwise, but fizzing with physical energy, and loaded with thrills and spills, like fairground ghost trains clanking and rattling through Rome, at a clip.
Check it out!

‘Regrows dub techno from the seeds,’ says Boomkat, ‘with a set of twisted warehouse melters that apply advanced dub logic to pointillistic technoid rhythms.
‘The off-grid, lolloping kicks are interesting enough on their own, but it’s how Stewart treats them that makes opener Stomach pop, sinking them in swirling, lysergic goop rather than drowning them out with rinsed tape FX. The oscillating, demonic subs that heave just beneath the surface don’t muddy things completely, they crack the sunroof on the top end, letting the industrialized foley clanks and hoarse vocaloid stutters boot us towards an unexpected destination. And although Compact is more trad on the surface — a gated peak-time roller, natch — Stewart’s canny processing makes the kicks tickle more than they thump. Everything builds up to the title track, where Stewart freezes mind-rinsing dissociated echo spirals into their own rhythmic forms that push against the relentless double-time thuds, weaving phantom polyrhythms out of thin air while spectral voices whisper overhead.’

Stone classic Detroit techno.

Beau Wanzer + Rezzett = maximum worries squared. Five frazzlers for all us nutters in the dance. Borez they izn’t.

Two deep half-steppers; both killer.