dripping out of the pores of tokyo high-rises, aquarium deepspace serves up his debut vinyl release and the second instalment on natural sciences. drawing on a palette of 90 s detroit house music and the electronic tropes of his home town of japan, midnight at the tokyo central is the unspoken soundtrack for the lost souls of the metropolis, recounting the ecstasy of smoke-filled dance-floors, the touch of dry ice melting through a fur coat, and travelling through neon at 6am. narrated by two separate protagonists under one identity, deepspace side explores muscular acid trax, aquatic pads and throbbing deep house jams for the floor, while aquarium on the flip is coated in hazy electronics and dopamine drained murk, drawing on field recordings taken at tokyo s central train station (rainy night in shibuya) through to lush subterranean jams laced in serotonin nostalgia.
from behind a wall of public discourse, focus groups and corporate memos, strahinja arbutina moves out onto the streets, with four cuts of croatian electronics pulled from man hunt techno, hood funk and industrial waves.
we are not where we live, but the valley we built enjoyment through suffering. beauty in chaos. african ghost valley apply these principles to create their heavy doomsday electronics pulled in from the black bunker a d.i.y space under a multi-story car-park. separated from any scene on the surface, the record was put together by european / canadian duo childle grangier and gabriel ghebrezghi a partnership formed in the heat of heavily improvised recording sessions, where the pair would thrash out their versions of power electronics, industrial waste drops and rhythmic dub rumble to the cities homeless. keeping these raw fnal cuts away from any studio trickery, the microphone would be left on to archive feld recordings and wayward audio drops, capturing the hum and lifeblood of the bunker and the wheezing lungs of the dense concrete that surrounded them. titling this work colony, the album is a open-ended and multi-edged tool for agv to explore, allowing the listener to interpret the work as they see ft, bringing to mind images of corroded space settlements and the darkest recess of human history. you decide.
for the second instalment, 外,神,田,deepspace takes us down from the neon skyline to the hum of surface drones and tesla waves seeping through the circuit boards of the megacity. itís the slogan for our new robot overlords as we punch into cellular devices. the gradual seeping of billboard acid frequencies into the bloodstream as mutants whistle out from ventilation shafts. a hazy bygone recollection of biological matter as we sink into concrete, junk and mechanical s&m.
mono-enzyme 307 debuts on the main natural sciences label with adventures in cryosleep , a record of corrosive space sludge dipping between deep acid trajectories, twisted cyber funk, narco new beat, android warehouse movements, detroit machine tyranny and musicalities often referred to as -techno-. we present the first phase in the mutation.
antonio debuts on ns with an ep of muscular dungeon boogie straight from italy s golden coast via the dank basements of frankfurt. drawing on the metallic throbs of his adopted german hometown, antonio pushes the machines to breaking point, allowing primitive techno flourishes, crushing breakdowns and dopamine-draining house excursions to be fed straight into the back of a tape deck
jack roland pulls apart the control mechanisms of the club environment and the way this living and breathing installation can be a tool of elevation or suppression. using club sounds as instruments for this idea, control / applications is a split release born out of amsterdam s warehouse scene, fusing together electro matrix rhythms, idm, with warped hums and breaks used by dancers and performers heading up the rave. with a track on our future works iii comp last year, this is his debut record on the label: a release challenging superstructures buried among the sweat particles of the floor.
plugged into the mainframe of the power station, antonio returns to the label with a barrage of loner panzer funk and mechanised thrash metal from the shadows of frankfurt s industrial district. its a record fed and nurtured among copper coils, rusted voltage boxes, plasma and ionised sweat coming out to breathe among power surges and industrial smog. four tracks from the heat of the machine. a total submission to your new electrical system.
as earth dips below sea level, e davd steps up with a capsule of botanical and foreign matter reminding us what lies beneath the oil spills, crust and hum of wireless routers. cast deep into the nebula, itís the forgotten love songs from the glacial plains, expired vitamin compounds retrieved from petri dishes and the howls of extinct animal life condensed into 25 minutes. electronic protocol modules formerly known as humid funk, new age astral ambient- and horoscope house drifting through foreign star systems, gradually lost to the eternal vacuum of deep space.
Ďwhite punks on eí is the taste of bike chains rubbing against black leather. heavy cast iron forged across studs and hot-wired organs. the howls from blazed skull hordes jacked up to distortion engines broadcasting into neglected cellar units. it s shrill echoes from the parking lot carried along the financial district, overturning lobotomised business lunches, attache cases and $50 slick-backs. nasty club rock fed through biohazard cassettes, doom arcades, sabres and scorpion tattoos - new blood to rock the neighbourhood and a pleasure to welcome stratton into the fold.
still reeking from the filth of the tv studio, tabloid mongering and howls of blasphemy from the old guard, dj seinfeld is proving to be a hardened veteran of the circuit. a new anti-hero for a humourless and devoid internet age kicking against the hollywood reptiles. Ďruff hysteriaí is the sounds from the cutting room floor deemed too unsavoury for public consumption. itís the grind of acid in the hotel lobby and the incessant pulse of a walkman tucked into a tuxedo pocket oozing itís way into the central nervous system. itís four tracks abandoned by the mainstream studios picked up by the grotty b-movie generation. the losers, the freaks, gore heads. bare bones tackle for the floor and analogue anthems for the disenchanted.
off the leash is the cry of morphed pack animals from a ufo crash site. itís radiated saliva dripped onto cold machinery burning through circuit boards. .the first transmission morphs from cyborg electro to broken down party frequencies. itís conspiracy meetings caught on short wave radio. the b side hits it harder, rolling tough with some nasty b-boy party electro and a euphoric hardcore cut complete with acid lines swooping in like winged beast. a fitting soundtrack to a midnight cruise across the landfill dunes as mutants creep into your backyard as the bros sink into the dunes.
born from the rank stench of the city streets, dj swagger hits on hard with joy riding electronic jams forged from bullet casings, hub caps and cigarette ash. kicking off on natural sciences for the first time, greatest hits is the ironic sneer from the diy underground. it s the sound of chains, tar and black exhausts from deep within the suburban rave. gun shots against busted speaker cabinets. padded anti-hero b-boy breaks. muffled street anthems from the back-seat of a midnight cruiser and slammed out acid party music for the youthfully insane.
anarchy in the house of sagesse is a head first lunge through the shadows of the dance-floor. it s the distant echoes of a wild hells angels lsd party. wayward hallucinations from deep within the crypt. battery acid techno cooked on melted tape reels. the sounds of collective euphoria broadcast from deep within the serbian warehouse. a debut record from a fresh irish hell raiser
warren raww gives you ross: exotic sounds of the south for you to get down low when you feelin high. four tracks of sloshed up, dance floor equipment broadcast from a busted car stereo via the depths of some hallucinatory jungle rave up.
built around degraded tape static, distortion peddles, analogue gear and phantom sounds, alek s debut e.p on natural sciences is a kaleidoscopic journey through electronic music, touching base at pounding house cuts (ulterior motive) into tripped out techno excursions and warbled spectral movements