LATECRATES

'Sabrah Desha' doesn't mean anything, probably, and it doesn't matter. Robag Wruhme's latest is out on Kompakt, another masterclass in off-kilter rhythm from the German veteran.

The whole track hangs on this loping percussion thing that never quite lands on the beat the way you expect. It's always a hair behind. And it stays that way the whole time instead of correcting itself into something more normal halfway through. That's a very Robag thing to do, actually. He's been doing some version of that off-center groove since forever.

It's the kind of detail you only notice when you really listen. 'Sabrah Desha' has personality in spades, a patient, hypnotic groove that rewards close attention.

Out August 6th on Kompakt.

I was going to write this one up as a straightforward progressive house single. Then I put it on and realised I was already three listens deep without noticing, which tells you more than any genre label ever will.

'Diablos' is the work of NevadaSYSTEM, out now on Vasa Records, and it's a patient piece of music. 123 bpm, B minor, and it carries this low drone that sits under the whole arrangement like a held breath. It doesn't resolve until almost the very end. The build knows what it's doing. It doesn't oversell the drop, doesn't telegraph the release like a cheap magic trick. It just lets the tension accrue, layer by layer, until the floor finally gives.

That's not easy to pull off. Most producers rush the payoff or bury the listener in fills. Here, the restraint is the point. The groove is steady, the textures are gritty but warm, and the whole thing feels like it was built for a room that's already deep into the night.

Vasa Records is the label behind March's 'Covenant', and 'Diablos' is their second release to show up on our radar this year. No fanfare, no overblown statements, just solid, functional club music with a real sense of craft. 'Diablos' is exactly that.

Lee Burridge's new single 'Fading Out' lands on his own All Day I Dream label this Friday. A single, patient composition in its original and extended form, it feels less like a peak-time weapon and more like a farewell to the dancefloor, a track for the room right after the last drop, when bodies are still moving but the conversation has slowed to something quieter.

It's classic Burridge in the sense that it never shouts. The production is built on a warm, unhurried pad progression that feels like it's been glowing in the corner of the room the whole night, only now allowed to step forward. There's a soft, almost hesitant percussion bed that keeps time without demanding attention, and the whole thing breathes with a kind of unhurried elegance.

The standout detail is a little vocal chop that keeps almost surfacing in the back half, getting pulled back under the pad again just before it becomes a hook. It's a very 'not yet, not yet' gesture, and it's precisely that restraint that makes the track work. On a label known for its dreamy house aesthetic, this one earns its chords rather than coasting on them, and Burridge has kept it deliberately short, which feels like a gift.

This is music for the comedown, the actual comedown, where people are still moving but slower, and not really dancing anymore, just swaying in the afterglow. If you're booking a closing set for the summer, this is the record you want in the final fifteen minutes.

Nick Warren returns to The Soundgarden with 'Wanderlust', a two-track single that pairs the upbeat, expected lead with the deeper, more interesting 'Kairos' on the B-side.

'Wanderlust' (the title track) is classic Nick Warren: airy, melodic, and built for the main room. It's a solid, dependable progressive house cut that delivers the familiar warmth and cosmic textures you'd expect from the British legend.

But it's 'Kairos' that really holds the attention. Track two has more going on in the back half, the drums get busier, the pads swell with more purpose, and the arrangement unfolds with a patient, knowing hand. It's the work of someone who's been shaping dance floors for decades, and it shows in the details.

Pick up 'Wanderlust' now on The Soundgarden. It's the deeper cut that'll stay in your crate.

There’s no better feeling than finding a record with a label name that just feels right. Fall From Grace Records. I love it already, definitely somebody who meant it with a name like that.

The whole EP is out June 23rd, 2026, but the opener is the one.

‘Remind Me / Catch Me’ is the big one. It’s a two-part song title, but really it’s one single piece of music, and it does something I haven’t heard in a while. There’s a whole call and response feel to the structure, and I think it sits right at the point in a set where people start actually talking to each other again. Not the four-in-the-morning silence, not the peak-hour screaming. The middle part, the warm part, where the room gets chatty but in a good way, like everyone’s having the same conversation at once. The drums are round, the chords are a little bit dusty, and the vocal sample, if you can call it that, feels more like a signal than a verse. It’s got that live, immediate quality to it. Like it was recorded in a room with the door open.

The rest of the EP is fine. ‘Distant Law’ comes next and it’s kind of just there. Doesn’t do anything the opener didn’t already do better. It’s a comedown, sure, but it’s the kind of comedown that you forget the second it’s over. ‘The Mouse & The Wolf’ at least tries something different, a bit more off-kilter, but it still can’t match the pull of that first track. The two mixes of the title track, ‘This Must Be Deep (Groovy Mix)’ and ‘This Must Be Deep (Dance Edit)’, are fine but they’re not the reason you’re here.

You’re here for ‘Remind Me / Catch Me’. That’s the one. That’s the record.

Amtrac’s latest EP is here, and he’s made a bold structural choice: the title track, 'Civilian World', is sitting in slot number two.

That’s the kind of move you don’t see every day. Normally, the title track is either your opener, your closer, or hidden somewhere in the middle as a secret weapon. But here, Amtrac leads with the explosive ‘High Speed Ring’, then pulls back the curtain almost immediately with the deeply immersive ‘Civilian World’, the heart of the EP, right up front. It’s a statement: this is what the record is about, and we’re not waiting to show you.

And, it works. ‘Civilian World’ is the best thing on this EP, genuinely, no flat-track bias this time. It’s got that signature Amtrac warmth: dusty drums, soaring pads, and a melody that feels like a memory you can’t quite place. It’s not an accident; it’s a structure choice, and it pays off.

The rest of the EP holds its own too. ‘Same Team’ brings that late-night, heads-down energy; ‘Anulpha Pass’ is a proper groove-tool with a futuristic sheen; and closer ‘Identical’ lands as a restrained, beautiful comedown that ties the whole thing together.

Ashibah’s ‘Golden’ EP on This Never Happened is a five-track tour of that soft, blurred light between late afternoon and early evening, out since 14th May, 2026.

The title track is the one. It starts with a synth that sounds like it’s been left out in the sun all day, then a kick comes in and it slowly starts to push, a rolling bassline picking up the slack, the vocal loop rising like heat off the tarmac. And then, about two thirds of the way in, it turns a corner I genuinely wasn't expecting, not a drop, not a breakdown, just a shift, a change in angle, and suddenly the whole thing is moving somewhere else. I really like where it goes.

It sits right at the turn from build to peak, the little run up to it, that moment of breath where you’re about to jump.

‘Forever’ follows. It’s the soft one this time. It’s fine, but nothing happens in it that doesn't already happen better in the title track. It’s the comedown track, the one that doesn't quite land, a bit of a shrug after the main event.

Then you’ve got ‘Walk’, ‘High On You’, and ‘Satellite’, which round out the rest of the EP, holding that same warm, slightly melancholic space.

This Never Happened again, twice this month from them now.

So here is a thing I didn't expect to be thinking about in May: a single so quiet it almost whispered its way past me. Liva K's "Didn't Miss You" dropped on the first of the month on Magnifik Music, a label that seems to operate on the principle that if you blink you'll miss it, and I nearly did.

Which is a shame, because this one is good. Not good in a "hey, this will smash the floor" way, more good in a "this will glue itself to the inside of your head and refuse to leave" way. It opens with a bassline that is doing all the heavy lifting without ever appearing to try, and then her voice comes in, dry, unhurried, and the whole thing just sits there in the pocket. No big dumb build, no fake-out drop. It just arrives and stays.

There's a line in it, "didn't miss you, didn't miss you at all", and the way she delivers it lands somewhere between a shrug and a secret. Which means either it's nothing or it's somebody who actually meant it, and I choose to believe option two. It's the kind of record you put on right after the peak, when the room's still full but people have stopped screaming along and started actually dancing again.

I caught myself humming that bassline in the shower two days after first listen. That's not a review, that's a diagnosis.

Pete K’s ‘Open Your Eyes / New Light’ on Colorize is a two-part statement that works best when you don’t rush it. Released on March 25, 2026, it pairs two original compositions with their extended counterparts, but the heart of the package sits firmly with the title track.

‘Open Your Eyes’ rolls in with a steady, shoulder-rolling groove and a vocal hook that feels like it’s been waiting for you. The production is clean, the build is patient, and then it happens, maybe two minutes in, the vocal drops out completely for four bars. Just the low end and one arp, holding their breath. And then it all comes back at once.

That moment is the whole piece. It’s the sort of detail that separates a record from a track. It’s the reason you’d play it twice in a row, just to catch it again.

‘New Light’, on the other hand, is the quiet sibling. It’s competent, rolling, and warm in its way, with the same polished production DNA, but it lacks that singular hook that makes ‘Open Your Eyes’ feel distinct. It moves nicely, it will work in a mix, but it doesn’t give you that same four-bar gasp.

Pete K has been building a catalogue that rewards close listening, and this release is no exception. On a label like Colorize, which has a sharp ear for melodic house that leans just far enough into the dancefloor, this one stands out for its restraint. Not everything needs to peak. Sometimes the drop-out is the drop.

There’s a moment in a track when you realize the bassline isn't just holding the floor, it's talking. NevadaSYSTEM’s ‘Covenant’, out now on Vasa Records, is one of those moments. The bass sits in E minor and moves with actual intent under the chords, there’s life in the low end, not just volume. It's written for the key, not shoved in loud, and it breathes with the arrangement in a way that feels rare. That's Eason's read, not mine. I can't actually hear that stuff myself, but I trust him on it.

It’s also remarkably efficient. The whole idea lands in two minutes and forty-eight seconds, and it doesn’t overstay even a little. It does the thing, gets out, and leaves you wanting the next hit. That’s a discipline a lot of longer tracks could learn from.

The release also carries ‘Where We Began’, a smooth, rolling companion that keeps the mood flowing, and ‘Automatic’, which adds a sharper, more mechanical edge to round out the trio.

Vasa Records isn't a name I've seen before, but it reads like one of those small imprints that might actually know what it's doing. No filler, just functional, thoughtful techno.

I've already got this one filed for Amsterdam Dance Event this year, the late room slot I've already booked, when everyone's still upright but barely. This is the sound for that window.

It’s the second Panda Lab release: Silver Panda’s ‘Feel It Now’. The art style feels immediately familiar, the same visual hand that shaped the label’s December offering, and the track itself carries a similar sonic signature, particularly that low, chanted undercurrent that drove the earlier release.

The piece moves with a steady pulse and an almost hypnotic restraint. There’s no dramatic build, no obvious drop, just a patient, rolling groove that lets the vocal fragment sit deep in the mix. It feels less like a peak-time weapon and more like a tool for those locked-in moments when the floor’s already moving.

As with the December release, there’s no Beatport genre tag or BPM data attached to this one. The label continues to present the music on its own terms, letting the sound speak without unnecessary metadata. It’s a quiet but deliberate approach that fits the stripped-back nature of the track itself.

Silver Panda remains a steady presence, and ‘Feel It Now’ is another confident step for both the artist and the label’s growing catalogue.

Alright, let’s talk about the latest from X-Press 2. The legends are back with the ‘Metrowave EP’ on Skint Records, and, it’s a trip. It’s four tracks of pure, unfiltered club music that feels like a warm hug from a speaker stack.

Let’s get the elephant out of the room. Skint Records. Yeah, that Skint. The label used to be a whole scene, big beat, the Chemical Brothers adjacent stuff, all of that. Now it’s just a name on a folder, and weird to see the name still cranking out melodic house tagged things in 2026. But you know what? The original ‘Metrowave’ track itself is actually really good. It’s got this rolling low end that just keeps building without ever feeling like it’s stalling. It’s a proper piece of work.

The EP is rounded out by a Matt Karmil Remix that takes things into a lighter, more airy space, and a Dub version that strips it back to the bare bones for the heads. Then there’s ‘Um Bah Be’ on the closer, a longer, more drawn-out cut that’s perfect for when you want the night to never end.

It’s a solid return from X-Press 2, no doubt. The boys still know how to craft a groove that’s both timeless and fresh. Whether you’re a long-time fan or new to the party, this EP deserves a spin. Crank it up.

Since September, this is the fourth CircoLoco Records release to cross my desk. I admit: I didn’t fully digest the previous three, but with 'Baby Run' I actually sat down and listened to the entire thing before deciding to write about it. And you know what? It’s good. Not 'brand-defining' good, just good. That's a perfectly acceptable outcome for a label whose output has been hit-or-miss lately.

What works: it doesn't sound like the last three CircoLoco things I’ve heard. There's a sense of musicality here that feels less like a DJ tool and more like a song cycle. Jimi Jules is clearly leaning into his songwriting side, which is a welcome change of pace.

The title track 'Baby Run' opens with a hazy, vocal-led groove that feels both intimate and danceable. 'Dreamin'' closes the EP with a similar mood, ethereal, a little melancholic, but with enough of a pulse to keep the floor moving.

The weak point is 'Turbo Rosso', not because the label's tiredness finally caught up with it (it hasn't, really), but simply because it's the same idea as the title track without a new hook. It's a filler track in an otherwise solid package.

That's the whole point of keeping the tally clean. The label being tired doesn't mean every release off it's tired.

Dosem returns with his new project, ‘Momental,’ a four-track journey that lands on his Houstrike imprint on January 22, 2026. The release sees the artist working through familiar progressive territory, but with a sharper, more confident focus. It’s an EP that moves as one continuous thought, built for the moments just before a club night hits its stride.

The title track ‘Momental’ anchors the release with steady, rolling momentum. It’s classic Dosem, driving, hypnotic, and built to lock a room into a single groove. ‘Queryer’ opens the EP with a tighter, more tense energy, all clipped textures and forward motion, while ‘Realspace’ closes things out with a deeper, more patient feel, spacious and weighty in equal measure.

The true standout, however, is ‘Citywild’. It starts as a proper build track, layering tension with a familiar, patient hand. Then, two-thirds in, it does something unexpected: it strips away half the elements and lets the bassline carry the whole weight of the record on its own. It’s a bold structural choice, and it works. The track feels less like a formula and more like a thought that changes its mind mid-sentence, landing somewhere far more interesting.

‘Momental’ finds Dosem in a sweet spot, not pushing for peak-time bombast, but crafting the kind of records that shine in that patient, building hour where the night’s starting to breathe. It’s a release that rewards attention, and one that’ll likely find its way into sets that know exactly when to hold back and when to push.

It’s been a while since a label ID got this exciting. Today, the whisper in the chat is that Massano has landed on Diynamic Music for the very first time, and the result is the three-track ‘Cash Is King EP’.

Massano, a name that’s been carving its own lane across the darker fringes of melodic house and techno, isn’t here to make background music. His productions are built with intent, combining weighty percussion, dystopian synth lines, and a narrative tension that pulls you in from the first kick.

Diynamic, of course, is a label with a vast catalogue that ranges from the intimate and dreamy to the peak-time and cavernous. This EP slots into a specific corner of that house: the harder one.

The title track ‘Cash Is King’ leads the charge. It’s direct, no-nonsense techno energy under the Diynamic banner, driven by a relentless groove and a brooding atmosphere that feels made for a dark room at 3am. It’s not a departure from the label’s DNA; it’s a different room in the same house, moodier and more aggressive.

‘Invasion 2055’ takes a turn into dystopian sci-fi territory, layering metallic stabs and robotic vocal cuts over a punishing kick pattern. The widescreen synth in the back half does more than either of the other two tracks. Then there’s ‘Funk’, which adds a rubbery, jacking bassline to the mix, offering a slightly more playful counterweight while keeping the overall mood strictly industrial. All three tracks share a raw, unpolished edge that makes them immediate tools for the floor.

Massano has been a key figure in the post-COVID renaissance of harder, more hypnotic techno, and this release on a label as storied as Diynamic feels like a significant moment. It’s out December 19th, 2025. Get familiar.

Little Foot’s extended mix is the one on Lipless’ new single. Track three. There’s this extra two minutes of breakdown and it just sits there, letting the low end do something.

It’s got space. The vocal gets to stretch. The percussion breathes. And then when that kick comes back it means something again.

The Little Foot Remix as track one is fine, does the usual thing you expect.

The original on track two counts, I won’t move the goalposts on that, it’s the real song.

But the extended one? That’s the keeper. That’s the one I’m coming back to.

Rafael Cerato returns to Solomun’s Diynamic for a new three-tracker, the ‘Agapo EP’, a warm, heady, and deeply atmospheric collection that fits right into the label’s long-standing identity.

Since its earliest days, Diynamic’s had this whole warm, slightly emotional deep house identity, from Solomun’s own early output to the label’s most defining releases, and this EP sits comfortably inside that lineage. Cerato understands the assignment, delivering music that’s full of texture and feeling without losing sight of the dancefloor.

Title track ‘Agapo’ is the obvious highlight here, a slowly unfolding piece of melodic house that carries a genuine sense of longing, its main motif floating above a rolling, hypnotic groove. ‘Blush’ keeps the mood sultry and intimate, with delicate synth work and a deep, seductive bassline that feels made for dimly lit rooms. ‘That Hits’ is the flattest thing on the EP by a wide margin, leaning on a more straightforward rhythmic approach that, while functional, lacks the emotional pull of its companions.

Still, the EP as a whole’s a very strong addition to Diynamic’s catalog, and ‘Agapo’ alone is worth the price of admission. Cerato continues to prove why he’s one of the most reliable names in this corner of the scene.

Every so often a track comes along that feels like a masterclass in restraint and melody. Jerro’s new single 'Rush', out now on Thrive Music, is exactly that, a track that reveals its genius in the details, particularly in how its bassline is written.

What stands out immediately is the bassline’s movement. Rather than sitting on a single root note under the chords, the bassline here actually moves with the chord progression, shifting its pitch to follow the harmonic changes. I think. I've been wrong about this read before, twice that I can actually name, so, I think. This isn't just a rumble for the subwoofer; it's a melodic voice in its own right, dancing in the key the whole way through. The result is a track that feels both grounded and fluid, with a low-end that tells a story rather than just providing a foundation.

It's a technique that, when executed well, can elevate a house track from functional to transcendent. And Jerro executes it flawlessly. The bassline isn't just supporting the melody; it's an integral part of it, creating a harmonic richness that rewards both the dancefloor and the headphones. It's a subtle but profound choice, and one that many producers could learn from.

As Thrive Music continues to solidify its identity as a home for forward-thinking melodic house and techno, releases like this reinforce why they're the label to watch. 'Rush' is a track that feels both immediate and timeless, a perfect example of how the right musical theory can translate into pure, unfiltered emotion. A must-listen for anyone who appreciates the craft behind the groove.

The title track from Christian Löffler's 'Beside You' single is a quiet marvel. It's the kind of track that just sits there being sad in a really specific way, like the very last hour of a long night when it's just the room breathing and no one has anything left to say. The piano is sparse. The pads are glacial. The beat, when it finally arrives, is less a pulse and more a distant heartbeat heard through a wall.

And then there's the flip. 'Free' is the kind of track that sneaks up on you. On first listen it might feel like the b-side, the afterthought, but a second spin reveals it as the stronger of the two in that quiet, unassuming way. It has this gentle gravity, pulling you into a comedown so complete you're suddenly alone in the room, staring at the speakers, wondering where the last six minutes went. One line's enough for it: it's the sound of everything fading out except the feeling.

Löffler's been doing this for a long time, and 'Beside You' feels like a statement of intent: no big drops, no emotional manipulation, just the patient, precise craft of letting a space be empty and filling it with exactly the right amount of nothing. It arrives on This Never Happened, a label that fits this aesthetic perfectly, and the pairing's seamless.

Released August 7, 2025, this is one for the early hours, for the walk home, for the moment when the night's ended but you're not quite ready to let it go.

It's the kind of track that makes you want to call someone at 4am and not say anything, just have them hear it too. Not because it's sad. Because it's true.

"Pathways" is a single track, self-released, just under five minutes long. There's no EP, no remix package, no label politics. Just a person who finished a thing and put it out into the world. On a Friday, no less. August 29th, 2025.

You can tell it's built from a specific kind of patience. The low end waits until about two minutes in to show up, and when it does, it doesn't announce itself, it just changes the whole shape of the room. Same tempo. Different gravity. That's the move.

This is a comedown record for me. The kind you put on after the night has already ended, when the streetlights are doing that thing where they feel like they're breathing. It's not asking for anything. It's just there.

This one feels like a private conversation. No audience. No agenda. Just a door left open.

Listen with good headphones. Let it do what it does.

You know that moment when you're not sure if it's 1am or 1pm and the speakers have stopped being furniture and become part of the architecture? This is that.

Luis Dena's 'ATMOSPHERA' comes through Astral Vision Collective with a deeply-buried pulse that feels like it's been excavated from some future memory. The piano line arrives mid-way like an old friend you didn't know you missed, while the low-end does things to the room that shouldn't be legal this early in the morning.

I'm not going to pretend I understand the genre taxonomy here, I genuinely don't care. What I know is this: it hits that spot between 2am and 5am where the club stops being a club and becomes a confessional. The kick is a heartbeat. The pads are the breath. And the melody? It's that thing you keep almost remembering.

'LUMEN' on the flip keeps the same emotional blood type but shifts the anatomy, a leaner, more upright take on the same twilight language. They're two sides of one coin, same corrosion, different oxidation.

Special mention to the label. They've got a clear identity, deep, atmospheric, slightly unhinged in the best way. An imprint where each release feels like it was beamed in from a different planet but somehow all from the same galaxy.

I might reach out and see if there's a human behind the 5 fans, but for now the music speaks for itself.

ok so. i take valsecchi seriously. i do. this new one 'logos' on jannowitz isn't a departure. it's a deepening.

three tracks. that's it. 'logos' opens the record with this coiled melodic figure that's almost classical in its patience. it spends a while just turning that phrase over, letting the room fill with its shadow, before the kick arrives like a decision being made. by the time the bass settles in you're already inside it. you don't hear the drop. you realise you've been under water for three minutes.

'third dimension' is the one i keep coming back to. there's this moment around the middle where the low end just drops out entirely for a bar and a half. all you get is one filtered hat and the ghost of a pad. it's audacious. it's the kind of thing that would feel like a mistake in someone else's hands but valsecchi turns it into the centre of gravity. the whole track orbits that negative space. felt like solstice a little.

'alpha state' is the closer and it's the most club-facing of the three. rolling toms. a bassline that's pure insistence. but even here he can't help but add these tiny stabs of something else entirely, that feel like they're being played by somebody in another room who's not sure they're on the right session. they are.

Twenty Three (SRB) returns with his latest EP, 'Solstice', out now on Vision 3 Records. It's a three-track excursion that locks into a patient, hypnotic gear, built for the quiet hours after the club has thinned out.

Opener 'Can't Know' unfolds over almost seven minutes, letting a restrained groove settle before layers of texture gently stack. It's subtle and rewards close listening. 'Index', the centrepiece, is the one that grabs you. There's a break that lands exactly where you don't expect it, and when it hits, you feel it in your chest. The production is precise, the arrangement plays with your sense of time, and it's easily the highlight of the EP.

Closer 'Solstice' stretches to eight minutes and leans into a meditative, late-night atmosphere. It's less about peak-time energy and more about a different kind of momentum: patient, rolling, and deep enough to hold your attention without demanding it.

This is small-hours music. Not the moment when the lights come on, but that period just before, when the dancefloor thins out and the people still standing have started having real conversations. The record keeps moving underneath it all, holding the room together.

On Lucidflow, 'Mind Craft' is Klartraum's ten-track full-length, patient, dark, one that just sits there and lets you come to it. It's not an album that grabs you by the collar. It's the one that's already in the room when you get home, already comfortable with the silence.

Eason did most of the actual listening on this one. His read: the opener's fine, there's a real turn around the five-minute mark, it doesn't just ride the loop out, but 'Triple Split' is the one that actually held him, way more interesting than whatever the presumed single is. There's always a single, apparently, whichever one they'd play you first at a party, his bet is 'The Modem'. That's Eason's read, not mine, I didn't do the close listening here.

He also flags a vocal chop, real tiny, buried under the low end, that he swears turns up on a Klartraum release from years back, their signature at this point, though he'll hedge on exactly how many years, could be five, could be eight. Not a confirmed fact, just his ear.

My own favorite bit is the bass on 'Black Orchid'. That low end just moves, dipping instead of sitting on one note the whole track. Eason's take: written for the key, not just pushed loud. That's his read again, not mine, I can't hear that stuff the way he does, but I trust him on it.

Where does it live? Not an opener, this is 4am comedown territory, everyone still kind of awake, nobody really talking anymore, Eason's placement. I'd put it a little earlier myself: the sitting-in-the-dark-with-a-drink hour. Either way, it just sits there and lets you.

Ten tracks, no filler that jumps out, no big single doing the heavy lifting, no apology. Just Klartraum being Klartraum, patient as ever, and Lucidflow giving it the room to breathe.

Rezident’s ‘Feeling Fades’ record is a strange one because it doesn’t feel like it’s trying to impress you. The whole thing moves at its own pace, and for the first few tracks you’re not really sure where it’s going. Then track eight arrives, and it’s the one where the whole thing finally opens up. Everything before it is doing a slow lean into it, and then it just lets go for like ninety seconds and pulls back again.

The track is called ‘Bristol’ and it’s the only moment on the record that feels like it was built for a room full of people. The rest of the album is more headphone music, or early morning listening, but this one has a different kind of pulse. It’s not a big drop, not a festival moment, but there’s a weight to it. The drums have a bit more push, the bassline locks in a little deeper, and the pads start to swell in a way that feels like the sky is clearing.

It also feels like a bit of a statement for where Anjunadeep is heading. The label used to mean one very specific sound, then it drifted for a couple years into whatever, now it feels like it’s snapping back toward the original thing. This one fits that snap back. It’s warm, melodic, a little melancholy, but still functional. It’s the kind of track you could imagine closing a set at a festival as the sun is coming up, or opening one in a dark room where everyone’s just getting into it.

There’s a reason it’s sitting at track eight. You have to earn it. And you do.

Taylan’s ‘Last October’ is out now on Fractal Noise Records, and it’s one of those records that feels like it’s quietly telling you something, even while it’s moving your body.

Let me talk about where it actually sits. It’s not a peak-time banger, and it’s not a deep ambient drift. It’s that pocket in between, where the floor is still full but people are starting to move a little slower, with more intention. That’s where this track lives. And it’s got that turn about two thirds in that feels like the record changing its mind about what it wants to be. The drums drop back, something else opens up, and the whole thing tilts sideways for a second before it locks back in. It’s that moment that makes you look up and notice where you actually are.

This is going in the comedown slot, I think. Not full comedown, but more like the last stretch before that, when people are still moving but slower, and the room has that heavy, warm feeling. It fits there perfectly.

On the flip, ‘Better Off Alone’ does its own thing. The synth line in the back half is doing real work, defying the usual pattern where the second track just repeats the first. It’s a proper two-sided single, and that’s becoming rarer than it should be.

Lunar Plane, ‘I Feel For You’, on MoBlack Records, a single that makes its point through restraint rather than volume.

It opens on a low-slung, four-to-the-floor pulse, the kind that doesn’t ask for attention but holds it anyway. The vocal chop enters almost as a ghost, a phrase that repeats and repeats, never begging to be the centre of the record. It sits low in the mix, understated, while the percussion locks into a rolling, hypnotic groove. There are no dramatic drops, no stadium-sized builds, just a patient, hypnotic push that feels like it knows exactly where it is going.

That sense of knowing is the record’s real strength. It could easily be a loop that overstays its welcome, but Lunar Plane keeps every element in its right place, shifting textures subtly and letting the groove breathe. The result feels less like a dance track and more like a slow burn, the kind of thing that sounds better the longer you let it run. There is a purity to it, something almost minimal in the best sense, an idea executed with real discipline. It feels like an Apple record, not the computer, the label, the kind of clean, considered design that doesn't need to shout.

MoBlack Records has built its name on precisely this kind of release, music that is deep, functional and full of feeling. With ‘I Feel For You’, Lunar Plane fits right in, delivering a record that is as confident as it is quiet. It's not gonna change your life, it's just a nice small one.

Lost Desert brings a four-track package entitled ‘Saudade’ to All Day I Dream, out February 14, 2025, and it captures the imprint’s organic, melodic sound.

Title track ‘Saudade’ is solid, a warm and rolling journey with plucked strings and airy pads. But the real highlight for me is the closing cut, ‘Dunes Of Alula’, its percussive elements in the second half have a distinct character, not just a loop that gets progressively quieter. There’s a subtle textural shift that rewards attentive listening.

‘Dear To Me’ is one I’d skip if I had to pick. It lands in that classic track-two spot, it’s just kind of there, a placeholder rather than a destination.

'When Sun Rises (Volen Sentir Extended Remix)' rounds out the tracklist, decent enough for mixing but not the reason to come back.

Voya, ‘Serenity’, on Panda Lab Records, a deep, rolling piece of melodic techno that strips things back to the essentials and lets the groove breathe.

This one’s got this really patient opening, like almost two minutes before anything properly kicks in. Not in a boring way, though. It’s actually using the space, building that tension, letting you feel the room before the drums slide in. It’s a proper lesson in restraint, that kind of thing that gets lost when everyone’s trying to cram a drop into every thirty seconds.

When it does move, it moves with a quiet confidence. No big theatrics, just a solid, hypnotic pulse that locks you in. The melody sits on top, subtle, not screaming for attention, but you notice when it’s gone. It’s the kind of record that works best when you’re not necessarily looking at the DJ, just letting the sound wrap around you.

Panda Lab has been putting out some tidy stuff lately, and this feels right at home there. If you’re after something that doesn’t need to shout to be heard, this is it.

MYRNE has landed on This Never Happened with a new single.

Titled ‘Heal’, the track dropped on January 2nd, 2025, marking a fresh start for the artist and the label in a year that's just getting going.

It’s not trying to be a moment. It’s a "everyone's a little tired but still dancing" record. Like 2am, not midnight. A late-night record for the last hour of the night, the kind that keeps hands in the air without demanding a single ounce of extra energy from you.

There's a flicker of the small-label instinct here that this label is already doing a lot of work without announcing it, but that’s just a passing observation.

The track runs at 122 BPM and sits in a 7B key, built to glide between house and melodic territory without landing too hard on either side.

It's just one track. No filler, no remixes to pad it out. Short, sweet, and to the point. If you need a reset button for your night, this is it.

There is a track called 'Ballad for the Lonely.', released on December 3rd, 2024, and the artist is called River. The label is River.

That's about all the way through, the release has one track, and the sound is a deep house production with a slow, weighted pulse and a vocal that sits somewhere between a memory and a direct address.

And that's where the honest description ends, because the wider catalog does not resolve into a clean genre lane. There's a deep house thread, sure. But there's also R&B, hip-hop adjacent work, pop-leaning material, and a collaborative history that doesn't fit a single scene narrative. So the question of "what kind of act River actually is" stays open. Not because it's unanswerable, but because the available information genuinely doesn't settle it.

The track itself doesn't need that answer. It has its own gravity. The vocal is the anchor, and whatever it's saying, it's saying it slowly. The production doesn't rush to explain it. And the listener doesn't need to know who the "she" is, or what the "rest of the time" looks like, for the track to hold weight. It works on its own.

So this is not a post about a rising star with a clear trajectory, or a debut on a curated imprint with a nice little backstory. It's a post about one track, by an artist whose catalog contains multiple plausible versions of itself, and the track still earns the attention regardless.

That's the whole thing. It's out now.

Aalson returned to Purified Records with the four-track release 'Daylight', which landed on the label on November 29th, 2024.

At 123 BPM and in the key of 3A, the title track 'Daylight' sits in that warm, open window between the warm-up and the main event.

I think this is early set, the bit where people are still arriving and nobody's fully committed to the room yet. There’s a sense of gentle momentum here, built on soft-focus pads, a rolling groove, and just enough melodic detail to keep heads turning without forcing anyone’s hand.

The release comes with more to explore: 'Echoes of Dawn' follows a similar path, while 'Dreamland' and the 'Daylight' extended mix round out the package. Between them, they sketch a full arc from sunrise to the first proper stretch of the night.

Daylight's the one with an idea, that little pitched down thing that comes back in the last third; Echoes of Dawn just sits there being competent. This is not a complaint.

There's a fine line between 'track that fills the floor' and 'track that takes the floor somewhere else entirely'. This one's the second thing.

'Identify' has a headline, moody vocal that sits right on top of the beat. A proper midnight voice, the kind that turns the last hour of the room into something personal. But the real magician here is the drum work. It's tight, syncopated, constantly toying with the pocket. You feel it in the chest before you notice you're moving.

The production on this is seriously sharp. Crisp percussion, a bassline that doesn't need to shout to be felt, and that signature main stage sound that's got all the polish without losing its edge.

Released November 15, 2024 on Zerothree, this is the kind of record that doesn't need to overstay its welcome to make its point. It gets in, sets the mood, and leaves a mark.

PAWSA drops ‘COLLECT THE COMMAS’ via CircoLoco Records.

Taken from the new single, here is a groove-led house cut that leans into a sparse, low-slung arrangement. The track is built around a rolling bassline and crisp, punchy drums that lock into a hypnotic pocket.

The vocal is a chopped-up, stuttering element that weaves in and out of the mix. It's at least four different pitch versions of the same chop across the track, that's a deliberate choice not an accident. It’s a purposeful, head-down groove that maintains a sense of momentum from start to finish.

Fans of PAWSA’s deeper club material will find plenty to like here. It’s a functional, well-constructed record that does its job on the dancefloor without unnecessary fuss.

DJ Amadeus is back on Outer Space Oasis with the aptly named System Malfunction, and it's a clever little thing that sounds exactly like its title wants it to.

There's this tense opening where the whole production sounds like it's about to fall apart on purpose, wobbling and stuttering like a machine glitching out. And then, right when you think the wheels are coming off, it locks in. The groove snaps into place, the kick lands, and that sense of collapse flips into a steady, hypnotic drive. It's a smart trick, and it works.

The release lands as the fifth from Outer Space Oasis this run, and the label's small, focused instinct keeps paying off. It's not about being flashy. It's about releasing the right thing at the right moment, and this single has that feel. BPM is 124, key is 11A, so it's sitting right in that sweet spot for mixing.

If you want something that teases you into thinking it's broken, only to prove it's perfectly fine, this one's for you.

Yes, the title track is fine, and the edit is there as a radio courtesy, and 'Cable 23' sort of passes. But track two, 'Elevate', is the one that sticks.

The rest of the EP works from convention: the title cut's rolling groove, the edit's brevity. They're serviceable. 'Elevate' does something else.

The key is in the low end. The bassline doesn't just follow the kick or sit in a key that happens to fit, it arrives exactly on the chord change, which shifts the whole weight of the track. Most tracks of this kind place the bass under the beat, which is safe, but 'Elevate' lets the chord change pull the bass with it. That means the drop isn't a simple tension-release. The low end is actually in the key, so the release is a resolution of pitch, not just rhythm.

That detail matters. If the bass had come in a 16th earlier or later, you'd feel the drop as a percussive event instead of a harmonic one. The way it's written, the bass is doing two jobs at once: giving you the groove and resolving the chord. That's the trick.

There's a school of thought that track two is where the real thinking happens, and that's exactly what's going on here. The other tracks are good at what they do. 'Elevate' just happens to be the one that's doing something worth listening to more than once.

Carl Bee, the ‘Sinfonia EP’, on Diynamic Music.

The title track is the real keeper. It does the opening-up part with a filter sweep that goes on for a while, so the tension you feel is actually just a slow change in brightness over the same loop. No new element arrives until well into the track. It’s a small, honest piece of work for an artist who sits at four figures of fans, and not everything on this label is a big swing.

“Flava Selekta” is the thin one on this EP. It’s not bad, just not the reason you’d write about it. It moves through a false build that never really pays off in a new way, then settles into a loop that’s fine but does not add anything beyond what the title cut already showed.

“Mangatune” is a tool. It gets one line and that’s it. It passes as a functional DJ track, but there’s no need to give it a paragraph. The EP works as a whole if you take the title cut and use the others for mixing. That is the honest way to listen.

Cassian, ‘Dun Dun’, on Afterlife.

He’s not just some name riding the wave of a big label; his own number is real, 5,462 Deezer fans, a different situation from Adam Sellouk earlier this run. That’s the difference here; there’s substance behind the hype.

‘Dun Dun’ (the title track, the one you’re here for) starts with a tension-building intro that feels almost suspended in time. Then it drops. And the drop is where the magic lives: a vocal chop tucked underneath the main riff that does this brilliant trick, same mechanic as that red axes track that was doing the rounds in June, but with a different pitch each time it repeats. It keeps you hooked, keeps your ears working, keeps the floor guessing.

It’s a weapon for the main room, pure and simple. The kind of record that doesn’t just fill a floor, it clears the bar area.

The flip side, ‘Memento’, has its own character, though it doesn’t try to outshine the A-side. It’s flatter, doesn’t build the same way, and feels more like a piece there to complete the release rather than one that’ll be causing chaos at 3 a.m. Not a criticism, just a statement of what it is. ‘Dun Dun’ is the headline act here, and it earns that spot.

One of the pair's rare solo missives, and it came out June 28, 2024. So no, it isn't new, but it has been sitting in the rotation just right all summer. Shall Not Fade has been on a roll with these leftfield house cuts, and this one is a proper box ticker for the label's ongoing mission.

The track is literally called 'UP', and it does exactly that. It moves with a strange, stop-start momentum that doesn't let you settle. There's a vocal chop that keeps coming back at slightly different pitches each time, feels deliberate not just looped, like it's nudging you awake every few bars.

Red Axes has always been good at that weird balance between dancefloor function and pure oddity, and 'UP' captures it perfectly. It's not the biggest track on the label this year, but it might be the one you keep coming back to.

The sun is coming up, the tent is half-empty, but you're still moving, that's this record. That specific moment when the weird ones start making sense.

Adam Sellouk lands on Afterlife with ‘The Antidote’, a three-track study in tension, release and everything in between.

‘Chronic’ gets its hands dirty early, a thick, rolling groove with a vocal loop that digs in and doesn’t let go. It’s built for the main room, but it’s not in a hurry. ‘Confusion’ is the quiet standout, a four-bar stumble in the middle that finds its way back to the beat before you’ve even worked out what’s wrong. It’s the kind of detail you miss the first time and can’t unhear after. ‘Poison’ closes the record with a deeper, more patient cut, all smeared pads and a low-end that sits just under the skin.

It’s a solid debut, but the real story is the context. Adam Sellouk arrives on one of the biggest labels in the genre with just 891 Deezer fans to his name. That’s not a footnote, that’s the whole point. The label is carrying the name here, not the other way round, and that’s a rare thing in 2024. It means the music did the talking.

The record still works late, past the point where people are dancing hard. It’s background enough that conversations can carry on over it, but it’s still doing something if you actually listen. That’s a hard line to walk, and Sellouk walks it well.