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Is music journalism in crisis?

“People misinterpret the job of music writers, that it’s to somehow ensure the health of the music ecosystem. It’s fucking not.” I’ve just asked Michael Hann, former music editor at The Guardian, about the role of the music media in 2019. “The job of music writers is to offer the most reliable and honest information,” he continues. “And to entertain their readers. That’s more or less where it begins and ends.”

Hann’s answer follows a pretty negative line of questioning from me, born out of what feels like a tough period for music journalism. 2018 was the worst year for journalism layoffs since the recession. Music publications like Drowned in Sound and Red Bull Music Academy have been forced to cut entire sections of content or close completely, following the likes of NME, Groove, i-D, The Word, Blender, and Paste. Some surviving publications, like Pitchfork, have announced that their content will not be free to read for much longer, forced to charge readers due to dwindling revenues.

Others are stripping back their editorial, replacing reviews and news stories with sponsored content, so-called journalism written to the specifications of the corporations paying for it. These necessary partnerships with big brands sometimes mean publications are forced to censor the rest of their output for fear of upsetting their sponsors.

Then there’s every writer’s worry about being canceled on social media, huge PR machines pushing the same artists onto the fronts of magazines, and freelance writers being paid next to nothing, if at all. The result, often, is grey, uninteresting writing that makes you wish you’d never learned to read. And if you somehow produce a compelling, original, honest piece of work, it has a fraction of the impact it once would have done—“as much cultural power as someone walking into a forest and smashing your head repeatedly into a tree trunk,” Hann says

There’s also the argument that today’s music malaise, as it is sometimes perceived (the recent dearth of innovation and radical new sounds), is in some part the fault of the media. Jeff Mills, a founding father of techno and by all accounts a deity in electronic music, recently told Resident Advisor that standards in the scene are now too low, and that “media plays a big part in making the standards too low, because they talk too much about people who haven’t done too much.” He went on to say the media should only cover artists who have “done something special. Then it raises the value of everything, and everyone remains at their level until they do something special.” It all suggests an industry in crisis. We’ll get to what “something special” is, but first: here’s what the bloody hell has been going on.

…for outlets to publish paid-for mixes and premieres under the guise of supporting that artist’s music is to mislead, and thus to fail, their readers.

Sam Davies

Before the internet, magazines funded themselves through a combination of sales—the $3 or whatever you would pay for each issue—and advertising, the space on their pages bought by companies marketing themselves to readers. As magazines made websites, vast amounts of their content became free to read, meaning readers had little reason to part with their cash and publications became precariously reliant on advertising. Then Facebook and Google began to dominate the online advertising market: in 2018 they took 56.4% of internet ad revenue between them, predicted to rise to 61% this year. This leaves online publications to fight for what’s left, or look for other ways to fund themselves, such as online subscriptions and donations.

Another option is sponsored content, also known as “advertorial,” “native advertising” (because it looks broadly like any other content on the site), or, horrifically, “spon-con.” Publishers say sponsored content currently accounts for 18% of their overall advertising revenues, expected to rise to 32% by 2020.

In the music media, sponsored content deals often come from PR companies representing artists, labels, and events, who offer money to an outlet in return for coverage of one of their releases, gigs, or—most commonly—festivals. Until recently, that meant display advertising (banners with video, image, and text promoting the event), but thanks to Facebook and Google taking all the ad revenue and the widespread use of ad-blockers, marketers now place more value on editorial coverage. This means a PR company funding festival trips for writers, paying for flights, hotels, VIP passes, and all manner of amenities on arrival. In return, the PRs expect editorial on the event, including news posts, previews, features with the artists (look out for all those mentions of the festival in artist interviews), posts on social media, and a review.

If that review is anything less than glowing—and plenty of festivals are hard to enjoy even with unlimited G&Ts—the publication could face some unpleasant conversations with the PRs. I, for one, like others I’ve spoken to, have received bitter emails in response to reviews (including those published in these pages), informing me that my opinion of x-album/event/whatever can’t possibly be accurate because of y-reason, and as a result I can consider myself unwelcome from reviewing anything associated with z-company in future. So far I’ve been backed up by editors, but not everyone is so lucky.

If a publication depends on a PR firm because of the income they provide through advertising, that firm might threaten to pull all their ad money unless a negative review is taken off-site. Increasingly, writers also have to deal with PRs asking to see reviews before they’re published; with survival dependent on keeping their sponsors happy, many have little choice but to oblige, allowing festivals, labels, artists, or their representatives the final say on a review which is about them.

I have heard a couple of rumours stating that certain female producers have paid to get their music featured or get a cover of a magazine. I think it comes from jealousy…..It is very different from paying your press agent to help you pitch and co-ordinate press, which is like any other service out there.”” — Anastasia Kristensen

Clara Suess, owner of Suess Media, a PR agency that has worked with record labels like Columbia, Insanity, Skint, and Champion and artists like Solid Blake, Stanton Warriors, Pris, and Lia Mice, explains that the situation goes beyond festivals. Although she says she has no personal experience of artists and their publicists buying features or reviews, she is “aware that there are places. I’ve had this discussion with other PRs and they’re like: ‘well, if you’re stuck…’.”

Danish techno artist Anastasia Kristensen explains: “I have heard a couple of rumors stating that certain female producers have paid to get their music featured or get a cover of a magazine. I think it usually comes from jealousy. However, I do not have a proof or knowledge of direct payment to anyone. It is very different from paying your press agent to help you pitch and co-ordinate press, which is like any other service out there.”

Suess continues: “More and more titles are starting to charge for premieres and guest mixes,” she says. To be clear: that’s artists, labels, and PR agencies having to pay publications to have their track or DJ mix featured on their site? “Yeah. It’s becoming more and more common, and when I explain to labels about this they’re usually quite shocked,” Suess says. “Often what happens is platforms say ‘we’ve got a certain number of paid spots, a certain number of free spots, and once the free spots are used up, especially for last-minute requests, they say ‘look we do have a slot for that week for a premiere or a guest mix, but…’.” She won’t tell me which publications, but says it usually costs about £20, before adding that fees are rising with certain outlets, while big YouTube channels already charge far more, including one who once asked her for a four-figure sum.

It’s a symptom of the ridiculously tight margins to which cash-strapped media outlets are having to operate as ad revenues continue to fall. Derek Robertson, former editor at recently shut-down online magazine Drowned in Sound, has already come to terms with sponsored content as a necessary evil: “I think the time to be proud about stuff like that is long gone. My opinion is that as long as it’s clear that it’s being sponsored and as long as the sponsor doesn’t turn round and say ‘you can’t say that’, I don’t see a problem with it.”

But for outlets to publish paid-for mixes and premieres under the guise of supporting that artist’s music is to mislead, and thus to fail, their readers. It becomes even more nefarious when the content in question is an interview or—worse—a review, washed with a sheen of positivity under the influence of sponsors. All this distorts the musical landscape, allowing the artists and organizations with the most money to buy critical favor. To fulfill Hann’s definition of reliability and honesty, publications must not be funded by the same people they are critiquing.

Could a white artist have made Slikback’s Tomo? Could a man have made Jenny Hval’s Blood Bitch? Could a binary-gender musician have made Sophie’s Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides? It’s the music media’s job to not only cover but to find music like this, to uncover the next Oil of Every Pearl by listening to artists from every walk of life and bringing them to wider attention.

Sam Davies

Yet since Hann started writing, decades ago, reliability and honesty have been joined by another stick with which to beat journalists over the head. Thanks largely to the proliferation of musicians brought on by the democratization of music-making and music-distribution technology—the fact that there are now so many artists—arguments now increasingly center on what, or whom, music journalists should be writing about. In electronic music, for instance, nobody can seem to agree which artists deserve the media’s attention.

First and foremost, surely, the answer is good music: positive critiques either analyzing what makes a popular track so impactful or shouting from the rooftops about a thrilling act that nobody’s heard of. There’s also rubbish music that needs writing about: stuff that’s getting attention but which a critic dislikes and must dismantle to stop the artists responsible, invariably the big ones who are making the most money, from getting away with it. (As yet I haven’t thought of a reason to write about rubbish music that nobody knows about.)

Jeff Mills believes the music media is failing to perform this simple function. I reach out to ask his definition of the “something special” that makes an artist worthy of coverage. “I think the term ‘special’ means when something is being displayed and performed that we’ve rarely or haven’t heard or seen before,” he says over email. He adds: “I do not believe that an artist with millions of social media ‘likes’ falls into such a category.”

The perceived prominence of so-called “Instagram DJs” in music magazines has led some to suggest social media is skewing our perceptions of which artists are making the best music. “I don’t believe social media turns water into wine,” said Radio 1 DJ Pete Tong on a panel at Ibiza Music Summit (IMS) this year. Magazines might argue the same, and that they’re entitled to analyze how music’s biggest Instagram stars have become so popular. But social media’s popularity contest is driven by visual stimuli—nice pictures and funny stories: hitting the follow button on an artist’s Instagram page doesn’t necessarily indicate a fondness for their music. That’s not to say that nobody who follows, say, Varg on Instagram has listened to Nordic Flora series—probably lots of them have—so water into wine it is not. But considering the many followers who are just there for the photos (not to mention the growing trend of celebrities buying fake followers), it’s no stretch to say that social media can make a £5 Echo Falls look like Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Anyone claiming to be a connoisseur—that is, a music critic—must be able to tell the difference.

I think it’s great to feature women, but that is not through over-promoting female artists that might not even be talented but just because they are female.” Steffi

There aren’t many magazines who would admit to covering an artist based on social media alone. There are, however, other possible motivations for featuring musicians who don’t meet Mills’ “special” criteria. Magazine covers today look markedly different from those of 30 years ago, when the likes of NME and Melody Maker were invariably adorned with images of white, male musicians. Today, nearly everyone I speak to seems to agree that we should be writing about music from ethnic minorities, far-flung scenes, LGBTQ+ artists, and women. The motivation for doing so is less clear, but there are two obvious reasons.

The first is that music needs diversity, and that the diversity of sounds being made is inseparable from the diversity of the people making them. Could a white artist have made Slikback’s Tomo? Could a man have made Jenny Hval’s Blood Bitch? Could a binary-gender musician have made Sophie’s Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides? It’s the music media’s job to not only cover but to find music like this, to uncover the next Oil of Every Pearl by listening to artists from every walk of life and bringing them to wider attention. This might be a leap for some, but it seems like no coincidence that techno, a genre dominated by men for 30 years, is now producing little other than inexpressive, self-absorbed (one might say masculine) records. Perhaps years down the line a less homogenous music industry is more likely to produce wild and exciting new ideas—remember them?

The other approach is to actively cover minorities as a kind of initiative for social change. By pushing minority artists, magazines aim to encourage future generations of non-white producers, gay MCs, and women DJs, for example, to get involved in the scene. On that same IMS panel, DJ and broadcaster Jaguar enthused about the positive impact of seeing women and ethnic minorities, like herself, at the top of the scene, mentioning Honey Dijon, The Black Madonna, and Peggy Gou.

But it sometimes feels as though magazines are choosing to cover minority artists with little consideration for how good their music is, promoting an image of diversity at the expense of genuine critique.

German artist Dana Ruh suggests there are some more cynical motivations at play: “In my opinion, the past two or three years as all the discussion about females in the techno scene came up, I just had the feeling some marketing companies saw their chance,” she says. “They looked for young, good-looking women, started to invest in all channels and then it exploded…I guess at this point these magazines started to be interested.”

Though it might not be clear to their readers, many of the minority artists who feature prominently in today’s magazines also happen to be the ones with the largest public backing—not just social media followings but also sponsorship deals with fashion brands and the financial heft of far-reaching PR machines. Revealingly Suess tells me the majority of interviews with artists she represents come about through her approaching writers, not vice-versa; it’s worrying to think of an industry where journalists, rather than seeking out good music themselves, simply write about the artists who marketers tell them to write about.

Dutch artist Steffi concurs: “I think it’s great to feature women, but that is not through over-promoting female artists that might not even be talented but just because they are female.” She also points out that more needs to be done than magazine coverage alone: “The unbalance between male and female is something that has been there for millions of years and should be looked at on a much bigger scale. It takes years and years to change that and lots of work.”

Employing policies of positive discrimination means music magazines performing a role more like that of a charity, working “to ensure the health of the music ecosystem,” as Hann puts it. Doing so at the expense of honest music critiques, arguing that a musician is breaking new ground just because they’re from a minority background, is to sacrifice our role as journalists. It’s easy enough to find good music from the other side of the world, easier than ever in fact. If writing about it also cultivates a more diverse industry, great. But critics do so through critique, through exploring where an artist’s work sits in the world and analyzing what it says about you if it makes you feel a certain way. Simply promoting artists, placing their image wherever you can, and claiming their music is great just because of who they are, is more the job of a PR.

“I think the standards are too low in electronic music. I think the media plays a big part in making the standards too low, because they talk too much about people who haven’t done too much.”Jeff Mills, via Resident Advisor

Which brings us to Mills’ next answer. Responding to a question about the importance of women in techno, Mills replies: “Probably the best, most interesting DJs that are women are those who have been in the scene for more than a few years. If showing this fresh new crop of women in the most prominent spot of a magazine is showing progress, then it seems short-sighted and is probably a sign that the magazine probably never took women DJs seriously in the first place, even in a male-dominated genre like techno. Are any of the highlighted women DJs we see today known as great technical DJs? Programming geniuses perhaps? Are they exceptional musicians? Have any of them unlocked a special knowledge that catapults Electronic Music to a new height….? Or has just ‘looking sexyIf ’ [sic] behind the DJ set become a skill? If so, then a magazine that uses this as the premise to have this person featured on the cover sits in the category of fashion modeling or acting.”

I put these comments to Steffi and Ruh and both broadly agree. But I’m struck by hypocrisy in Mills’ emphasis on catapulting electronic music to new heights while his own image continues to appear on the covers and home pages of numerous magazines. Mills hasn’t taken electronic music anywhere fantastically new in the last, say, 20 years, and neither have Richie Hawtin, Armin van Buuren, Robert Hood, Kevin Saunderson, or Adam Beyer, artists who continue to grace our favorite pages not because of radical recent work, but because of what they did in a now bygone era.

Then who is “special” enough to be on a magazine cover? I ask Mills if he’ll provide an example of a recent techno record he likes. He declines: “I’ve made it a habit to never critique anyone else’s work because I can never really know the true meaning and purpose of it.” He doesn’t seem to know and god knows I don’t either. But maybe therein lies the problem: nobody in electronic music has really done anything “special” in the radical, never-seen-before sense that Mills means, for some years now, at least not to the extent that any sort of consensus approval has formed among the press, or indeed the general public. That many of the electronic artists pushed back then are still featured prominently today is indicative of a genre in stasis. All journalists can do about that stasis is look for exciting sounds elsewhere, investigating music made by members of previously ignored communities and shining a light on stuff that nobody would hear otherwise.

When there’s nobody too good to ignore, someone will complain whoever ends up on the cover. The solution for magazines then is simply to write about the artists they think are best—whether they’re British or Palestinian, gay or straight, big on Instagram or completely anonymous.

“If a journalist sets out to speak from a position of authority, it should be merely an entry-level requirement that they know their shit top to bottom and inside-out.— Paul Woolford

Then there’s the question of how to write about music. Any idiot can say if they like an album or not, but part of a critic’s job is providing expertise on the subject, explaining why it’s good and what the artist is trying to achieve with it. Taking this to its logical conclusion, American pop artist Lizzo reacted to a 6.5/10 review of her recent album with the shouty claim: “PEOPLE WHO ‘REVIEW’ ALBUMS AND DON’T MAKE MUSIC THEMSELVES SHOULD BE UNEMPLOYED.” Mills voices a similar opinion, telling me he’s never read a review that correctly describes how he uses the Roland TR-909 drum machine.

“If a journalist sets out to speak from a position of authority, it should be merely an entry-level requirement that they know their shit top to bottom and inside-out,” says producer and DJ Paul Woolford, though he stops short of Lizzo and Mills: “I think expecting critics to be musicians would mean merely a more performative and possibly more boring style of writing. In some ways, the less analytical they can be, the better. This is purely personal preference, but when you throw away the technical context of what you know about the artist/person, and focus on purely how the music inspires emotion, this can be a greater indicator of the strength of a piece of work.”

There are still critics writing passionately and expertly, often with differing opinions—which is great: we can and should debate about music until we’re blue in the balls. But thanks to social media that debate has ballooned wildly out of control, making the music critic just another voice in a chaotic conversation and dramatically shrinking their impact. Where once a critic could write a bad review without fear of a thousand contrasting opinions coming back at them, now anyone who disagrees with your take on a record can tell you why within a few clicks. And rarely does it stop there.

“I spent a week getting death threats from Lana del Rey fans when I gave her album two out of 10,” says Robertson of his time writing reviews for Drowned in Sound. The most esteemed critics may have Twitter followings in the tens of thousands, but such figures pale in comparison to those of musicians, particularly the megastars. As soon as an artist expresses their displeasure at a negative review, millions of fans feel encouraged pile in, informing the plucky so-and-so who dared to criticize their fave just why they’re wrong, unfit to do their job, and unfit to walk the earth.

Most writers I speak to seem resigned to social media vitriol as part of the job (if you don’t have a thick skin, you’re in the wrong business and so on). And that everyone-has-a-voice, everyone-is-held-accountable vibe comprises not just personal attacks, but also indirect tweets obliquely referencing writers, like a playground brat whispering about you just loud enough that you can hear. It can also mean an artist informing the world that, even though your review was positive, you just didn’t get the album; or a musician sniveling that they weren’t referred to by “their alias,” like a child insisting that everyone calls him Batman. All this, combined with the intimidation tactics of PR firms mentioned above, contributes to a tetchy—at times poisonous—atmosphere surrounding contemporary music criticism.

The inevitable result is an epidemic of positive reviews, an unstoppable tide of seven- and eight-out-of-10s, a tepid porridge of music writing barely distinguishable from press releases.

Sam Davies

Music’s biggest players, the global artists and mammoth PR firms, are tightening their grip on the industry narrative. Press days, where an artist is given 10 interview Skype slots with journalists in a few hours, are orchestrated by PRs to create safe, identikit write-ups. Surprise album drops, where music is released with no advance listens for members of the press (or no warning at all), leave reviewers just a few hours to listen before making a judgment, leading most to take the risk-free route of half-hearted positivity. The inevitable result is an epidemic of positive reviews, an unstoppable tide of seven- and eight-out-of-10s, a tepid porridge of music writing barely distinguishable from press releases.

“It does seem like the vehemence and the overall temperature of music writing has gone down,” says Simon Reynolds, author and music journalist of more than 30 years. “People seem to expect critics to not let that kind of “fan” mentality into their writing. They seem to think impersonal judgment is possible or desirable.”

But the subjectivity and personality of music criticism, the simple fact that a review can only ever be one person’s opinion, is crucial to its functionality: without it, a review is not really criticism at all. On the subject of Lizzo’s objection to the personal opinions in that review, Robertson says: “OK, so this person didn’t particularly like what you did or whatever, so what? Fucking grow up.”

There’s something of a paradox in that, while artists and PR teams go to new lengths to control and influence critics, a review’s impact is arguably smaller than ever. “What we think of as the core music press is no longer a monopoly, but an ailing sector within a babble of voices,” says Reynolds. “I think it’s the babble—and the way that means any individual writer’s voice, or magazine’s collective voice, doesn’t have as much influence or impact—that discourages people from making big claims for anything.” But why should being just one voice in a crowded conversation lead writers to dilute their opinions? In some ways this should enable critics to say whatever they want, safe in the knowledge that hardly anyone is reading anyway.

“I think free content ultimately has to die, I think the model is dead. If music journalism becomes accessible through payment only, many will stop reading. But maybe a world where only those willing to pay to read in depth stuff about music is to be desired.”

Derek Robertson

What shines through here is a rose-tinted reverence of the past. Before decrying how bad things are today, it’s worth remembering that yesterday was hardly perfect. Considering how overwhelmingly white and male magazine covers were just 20 years ago, the increased prominence of minority artists now is a sign of progress. Is music journalism in crisis? “In some ways, that question is predicated on the notion of having some kind of golden age of music criticism,” says Hann. “I’m not sure that there ever was.”

But changes are needed. Though “independence” is a tricky term to reconcile in music these days, in the media it remains vital; the sooner publications separate themselves from advertorials and sponsorship deals from those with vested interests in music, the better. That could mean an outlet’s income becomes dependent on charging readers. “I think free content ultimately has to die, I think the model is dead,” says Robertson. “If music journalism becomes accessible through payment only, many will stop reading. But maybe a world where only those willing to pay to read in depth stuff about music is to be desired.”

Some will say this is no longer a realistic goal, that free content is now accepted as standard and for it to remain that way, corporate money is a necessary evil. But also crucial and attainable is the music media’s independence from musicians. Social media—especially Twitter—has eroded the barriers between artist and critic, while in electronic music it seems just about every writer is also a part-time DJ who sometimes messes around on Fruity Loops. Meanwhile, there are plenty of producers who also write reviews themselves. That can lead to friendly relationships, but as New York Times film critic A.O. Scott says: “the tension between artists and critics is crucial.” Paramount to our ability to make reliable and honest critiques is our freedom from the influence of those we are critiquing—which includes artists, labels, festivals, and anyone connected with them.

Also important is our ability to choose our subject matter ourselves, not writing inbox journalism based solely on the stuff we get sent by PRs, but seeking out music of our own accord, searching in places nobody else is looking and writing honestly, reliably, and passionately about why it matters—or why it doesn’t. And remembering that we’re not writing for the artists, for the industry, or even for the listeners. We’re writing for the readers.

Editor note: A previous version of this article accidentally misrepresented a quote from Anastasia Kristensen. This has now been updated.

Photos:

Jeff Mills by Jacob Khrist
Anastasia Kristensen by Morten Bentzon
Steffi by Stephan Redel

Download an Ableton Live Set From Polygonia

Few artists demonstrate such a multifaceted talent and the poise to balance it all quite like Polygonia, the musical alias of Lindsey Wang. Having risen to prominence with an impressive combination of technical mastery and artistic refinement, her work exemplifies a cross-disciplinary approach marked by a deep reverence for visual arts, music production, and sound design.

Polygonia’s tracks effortlessly blend organic textures with intricate rhythms, spanning a range of moods from deep and dark to playful and emotionally delicate. Her compositions traverse various genres, including techno, breakbeat, dubstep, ambient, and pop.  

Beyond her solo projects, Polygonia is also a core member of the IO collective and the founder of QEONE, her newly launched label dedicated to championing emerging talent. Her creative vision also finds a further outlet in the trio Lyder, where she collaborates with musicians Niklas Bühler and Moritz Stahl, merging jazz and techno through improvisation, live looping, and effects pedals, creating immersive electroacoustic sound worlds for listeners to explore.

In partnership with Ableton, we recently sat down with Polygonia to trace her fascinating path from a childhood steeped in classical training to the moments that inspired her evolution into electronic music. Along the way, we delved into her creative philosophies, technical methods, and insights into the Munich music scene. For a direct look at her process, she has also shared the Live Set of her new track “Neon Oracle”.

Download the Live Set to Polygonia’s track “Neon Oracle” here*

*Requires a Live 12.1 Suite license or the free trial.

Please note: This Live Set and included samples are for educational use only and cannot be used for commercial purposes.

Lindsey, thanks for chatting with us today. Let’s start from the beginning—can you tell us a bit about your musical background? 

I started out with classical music, I grew up with it. My father played in the Shanghai Quartet and with several orchestras here in Germany. My mother works at one of Germany’s biggest companies for sheet music and my grandfather was a clarinet professor. I graduated from a high school specializing in music. My focus was on the violin. I also played the piano. 

As I grew older, I of course discovered pop music on the radio and MTV. That was my first connection to electronic music; because pop music is often produced with electronic elements. I was never really listening to the lyrics, I was more interested in how the tracks were produced. Later on, some friends introduced me to UK Dubstep. Back then it sounded super new and out of this world to me. That was when I really started getting into electronic music.

Was there a specific moment or, maybe an artist that inspired your move into the style of techno you make today? 

In the beginning, I was not interested in techno at all. What was being played here in Munich wasn’t really my taste. I was digging into left-field hip-hop and finding these crazy beat producers on SoundCloud. There was this label, called Prrrrrrr Records. The label boss, Persian Empire, is also an instrumentalist and composer, he produces and performs in a really wild way. He was one of my key inspirations before I moved to techno. I remember hearing artists like Cio D’or and Rrose play at Freqs of Nature Festival. It was a sound aesthetic I hadn’t heard before. I had been quite into the psytrance scene, and somehow their sound connected to it, because it’s kind of trippy and psychedelic, but way more stripped down, more minimalistic, and more classy, let’s say. Cio D’or is a woman, which also inspired me, because I was like, “Wow, she’s a few generations above me, she has such a great presence on stage.” What she did was so fascinating to me. And Rrose too. They performed right after Cio D’or. It was the perfect combination. 

While Berlin often receives most of the focus in Germany, how does the music scene in Munich compare? 

We have a lot of amazing artists coming from Munich. It’s true, the focus is usually only on Berlin, but we sometimes find it a bit unfair. Just recently, I talked to a friend who owns a record shop here in town, and we were like, “It’s a bit sad that Resident Advisor doesn’t have many features about any events in Munich, because we have the amazing Blitz Club club for example, they book quite eclectic artists from time to time. I have my label night there. We also have Zirka Space where Radio 80000 is located. They have a lot of parties and concerts there too. There are a lot of great people in Munich, we all support each other a lot. We have a good sense of community here because it’s smaller. I think that’s why the competition somehow feels less intense. Everybody moves to Berlin to become a DJ. Everybody is a DJ when you talk to them in Berlin! But here, the pressure isn’t so huge. So yeah, we have a vibrant scene. I feel very comfortable here. I’m not considering moving away.

How would you describe the music you’re making these days? 

My music is quite playful. It’s definitely not just techno. I also create bass music, ambient, drum & bass—a lot of things really. I sometimes even like to produce a little bit of weird pop music. I try not to pin myself down to one genre. But some characteristics are always present in my tracks, like organic textures, cheeky or sentimental harmonies, and some interesting rhythms that are not too obvious, but still groovy. I also often have airy bass sections, depending on which genre I’m working on.

Can you talk us through the labels you’re running? Are they mainly a platform for your own releases, or are you focused on putting out other artists’ work as well?

IO is more of a collective. It’s our platform to express ourselves as a circle of friends. Most of us have known each other since high school. It’s more about deep, personal connections. We’re also diversifying by developing audio software since we have a lot of expertise in the team. We love inspiring each other to experiment across different fields, which is the focus of IO. My other label QEONE, on the other hand, is my solo project. For QEONE, I release external artists. I’m not focused on big names. I try to take advantage of releasing digitally, as it requires less investment. This allows me to promote smaller, aspiring artists who I want to push. I really enjoy discovering new talent and offering a platform for emerging artists, rather than cycling through the same familiar names.

So, how did your new track “Neon Oracle,” which you’ve shared with us today, come to life?

I played in Brighton for DNO Records at their Mine event series, which focuses on dubstep. The event was meaningful to me because as I mentioned, my first real connection to electronic music was through UK Dubstep. I’d always dreamed of playing the kind of dubstep I love but with my own twist.

Normally, with dubstep, you’d expect a traditional setup where you play one track per deck, and it’s almost more fitting to play vinyl. But I’m a very digital DJ, so I love layering dubstep in a way that feels more like playing techno. I was so inspired and euphoric after that gig, as it was my first dubstep performance, and the sound system made it incredible. Shortly after, I felt this urge to create a track that captured that energy.

I never fully revisited dubstep until now. I figured, why not give it another shot? I wanted to try out new features in Ableton Live 12.1 and experiment. That’s why this track doesn’t sound like techno—it was born from that euphoric experience and a desire to explore a different sound.

The track has such detailed sound design—has that always been a focus in your work?

I previously worked as a sound designer. I once worked at a company that specialized in sound design for electric vehicles. We created infotainment sounds, which were more basic. However, we also did a lot of work with Max MSP to develop interactive synthesizers for vehicles, and that was where things got really interesting. One of my colleagues designed an interactive ambient synth that would change harmonies as the car accelerated, it was really cool!

“I prefer keeping my effect chains simple. If they get too long, I feel I lose focus.”

And you’re also part of a sound design-focused music project called Lyder, right?

Yes, Lyder is a trio. It has a strong instrumental focus, thanks to our saxophonist, Moritz Stahl, and my partner whose solo alias is FTP Doctor. Both of them are also also very focused on sound design. I’ve learned a lot from FTP Doctor. He taught me to have this “fuck it” attitude in music production, which has been really important. 

We recently listened to a couple of our productions called “Weird Beats”, where I played saxophone and a Chinese flute in unconventional ways. Moritz uses a huge pedal board to send his saxophone through, creating these massive soundscapes. It’s incredible how he can transform his instrument into something so atmospheric with just those effects.

“Neon Oracle” opens with this beautiful, bell-like melody using the Collision and Pitchloop89 devices in Live 12.1. Could you walk us through the device chain and how you crafted this sound?

Sure. Collision is great for quickly creating natural-sounding timbres. While I often use Operator, for this project I challenged myself to try something different to avoid muscle memory. I used Collision and added Pitchloop89. It’s not a typical delay; you can adjust the pitch, which creates new textures and adds an atmospheric quality while still keeping the original sound present. Here, I have the wet/dry balance at 57%, with the pitch shifted down an octave to add a deeper layer. I prefer keeping my effect chains simple. If they get too long, I feel I lose focus.

Polygonia used Collison and Pitchloop89 to create ethereal bell textures.

There’s a nicely distorted kick sound where you’ve used the Roar device, with some creative feedback automation. How did you achieve that?

This was the first project where I got to use Roar. Before, I used Ableton’s Amp device, but Roar is on another level, with more detailed control over distortion settings. The Feedback feature is unique for a distortion effect and adds incredible tension to the sound. I experimented with it and decided to automate the feedback, which created a wave-like movement. It was a playful process, and I loved how it turned out.

Polygonia automates Roar’s Feedback parameter to create tension in her sounds.

The automation throughout your project is impressive in general. How do you choose which parameters to automate?

From the start of my music production journey, I focused a lot on automation, since I only use Ableton’s session mode for live sets. I spent a lot of time learning to draw automation manually. But I also realized I could replicate a live feel by recording automation with a mouse, which brings a more human, less mechanical quality. I choose parameters that have a big impact, like envelopes in Operator. For live sets, I map a lot of Macros to envelopes to keep the sound dynamic.

You mention using Operator quite a lot. What draws you to this particular synth?

Well, Operator is a really basic but also incredibly versatile synth, which fits perfectly with my philosophy of creating complex sounds using simple techniques. Operator was the first synth I learned to use. I remember collaborating with my friend Dyside, who taught me a lot. He showed me how to use Operator, and in just a minute, he created 20 different synth presets. I was amazed and decided I had to master it, because even though it’s simple, you can make such a wide range of sounds, without the synth having a recognizable “Operator” signature.

That’s why I’m not really into hardware synths—some of them have a very distinct sound that’s hard to escape. With Operator, you start with basic wave shapes and can transform them into something completely different by controlling envelopes, adjusting oscillators, tweaking the LFOs, pitch envelopes, and timing. There’s no typical Operator sound, that’s why I use it for everything—from kick drums and hi-hats to beautiful or weird synth textures. It’s incredibly versatile.

Your philosophy of making complex things from simple techniques is interesting. Can we clarify what that means for someone who wants to apply that thinking?

Sure! When I say that, I mean I keep my device chains short and maximize the potential of each unit. Instead of stacking multiple effects and only using one knob on each, I make full use of the parameters within a single effect. 

Even with simple elements, like sine tones, you can create complex textures if you modulate them cleverly. You don’t need to stack multiple oscillators—just one, with a well-designed envelope and maybe a delay effect, can generate a rich, organic sound. If you know what each parameter does, you can surprise people with the complexity you achieve. It’s all about building a strong foundation and understanding what you have before adding more.

Track 27 in your project labeled “Arp” adds real tension. Could you talk a bit about how you developed the MIDI pattern?

With this arpeggiator, I didn’t use MIDI effects like I sometimes do. I often have a specific idea of how I want my arpeggios to sound, so I program them manually. In this case, I created a basic pattern but added harmonic tension by using two of the three notes close together in the scale. The interval between them is just a major second, which introduces a subtle dissonance.

For the synth sound, I used Meld. I experimented with different waveforms and chose a noisy shape. I also automated the envelopes to create variation, especially in the second part where the sound shifts an octave lower and the B oscillator comes in more prominently. The sound starts pure and then gains intensity as the second oscillator is blended in with automation. It’s a simple trick, but it changes the track’s story. And yeah, Meld is great for live sets—very low latency, which is perfect.

It seems like the secret sauce to the arpeggio is that interval you mentioned. You’ve also made a more advanced scale choice for your project, compared to a typical minor scale often used for this kind of music.

Yeah, it’s Phrygian Dominant. I love how, in Ableton Live 12, you can select more advanced scales. It makes things much easier. Even though I often figure out complex scales by ear, having this feature lets me precisely choose the character I want. The church scales, each have a unique quality. Phrygian, for instance, is more intuitive, but Phrygian Dominant is on another level of complexity. I thought it would be interesting, so I went for it.

How would you describe the Phrygian Dominant scale to someone unfamiliar with it?

In the church scale system, two scales sound particularly unusual: Locrian and Phrygian. Locrian is more unsettling, almost dissonant. I was actually debating between using Locrian or Phrygian for this track. Phrygian has a mysterious quality, and I gravitate towards that in my music. It adds an intriguing vibe. Each of these scales has its own color and can really add variety to your music.

Polygonia chose the Phrygian Dominant scale for her project, adding a touch of mystery to her track.

You’ve also used the Auto Shift device in Live 12.1 on your “Vocal Chops” track. Did you use the Scale Awareness feature to lock the device to the overall scale in the project, or did you match it by ear?

I did it all by ear. Although I see now there is a button on Auto Shift for syncing it to the scale of the project.

What I normally do, is draw a MIDI pattern of the scale I’m using, in this case with a grand piano sound, and let it play continuously. That way, I can compare the vocal recording and tweak it with Auto Shift to match the scale. I’m so glad Live has this feature now.

The Auto Shift device in Live 12.1 helped Polygonia to tune her vocals to the scale of the track.

You’ve used the Drum Sampler device in Live 12.1 in a unique way, I see you’ve sampled a xylophone and created a melodic element. What inspired that?

For this part, I used a MIDI generator. I don’t remember the exact generator I used, but it might have been something from the polyrhythm section, like the Euclidean rhythm generator.

I found it really exciting to create a melody and modulate the sample length in Drum Sampler, which wasn’t possible before. This adds a human touch, similar to how you control the envelope when playing a violin pizzicato. I transferred that idea to the xylophone element.

So the LFO device on this track modulates the note length?

Yes, exactly. The fast sine LFO creates a subtle randomness in note duration.

Polygonia modulated the Sample Length parameter on the Drum Sampler device in Live 12.1, adding subtle variations for a more human feel.

Something interesting is happening on the Shifter device on your Snare track. What’s that doing?

So sometimes when I layer drums, I like to adjust their pitch to better fit the overall sound. In this case, I’ve actually automated Shifter. The automation changes only at the end, during the chorus, to fade the snare out. I also use it to tweak the pitch slightly during the first break. It’s mainly to add some variation so that the snare doesn’t sound the same throughout the break, making the whole section more engaging.

There’s also a great growling bass from Wavetable—and with two instances of Roar.

Thank you! Wavetable is simple yet powerful, and it comes with some great wave shapes. The trick with Wavetable is automating the wave position. I automated both oscillators and then adjusted the filter with high resonance to highlight specific frequencies.

The synthesis itself is straightforward. I also automated parameters like Warp and Fold. For the second oscillator, I played with Pulse Width and Sync. When using Operator in Ableton, I love automating everything I can because each oscillator offers unique modulation possibilities. In Wavetable, these parameters vary by wave category, but combining them creates a richer sound.

For distortion, I used two instances of Roar. Many producers split frequencies and process them separately, but both Roar instances are set to Multiband, so the sound gets treated differently in the low, mid, and high ranges anyway and enhances the overall complexity.

The bell textures made with Granulator III add a nice organic texture. 

Oh, yes, on track 24. This was another resampling experiment. I took the bell texture we discussed earlier and ran it through Granulator III. I love resampling and then manipulating the sound even further. In Granulator III, I adjusted Grain Size, position, and the envelope to create a unique texture. It’s simple but effective.

Polygonia used Granulator III to resample her bell textures, resulting in an organic and reverberant sound layer.

And those fill melodies with the toms—how do you come up with those cool patterns?

Most of my patterns are programmed with a mouse. I usually have a clear vision of what I want, so random generators don’t always suit my workflow. I used Trap drums for this project because I love the beat programming style in Trap music. The 808 tom adds a punchy, chest-hitting feel on a big PA. Placing it carefully next to the kick, but not overlapping, gives the track extra groove.

We have to talk about the flute as well—it’s such a nice addition to the track. Can you share the background of the instrument and what inspired its use?

Sure. I initially produced the track without the flute, but I felt it needed a human element. I love recording instruments just for fun, even if I end up deleting them later. In this case, the flute worked perfectly. It’s a small traditional Chinese flute that I’ve had since childhood, passed down to me. It has an incredible sound and creates fascinating overtones. I thought it added the perfect human touch, like the cherry on top.

This has been an inspiring conversation, Lindsey, thank you so much. To wrap up, what is 2025 looking like for you?

Well, 2025 is going to be very exciting. I’m going to release my second album. It’s quite eclectic. It digs into this realm where I’m using my voice and my acoustic and electronic instruments. Plus, I’m playing a live set at Outlook Festival, and it won’t be a techno set, so that’s also exciting!

Bjarki Returns with New Album

Bjarki will release a new album next month.

A Guide To Hellthier Lifestyle is the first album to land on the Iceland artist’s Differance label, which he co-founded with the artist Thomas Harrington Rawle.

Conceptually, the album explores “the psychological landscape of contemporary social issues,” we’re told, “offering a sideways rumination on lifestyle dilemmas and wellness obsessions, presenting itself as a response to the modern condition.”

Bjarki investigates how specific frequencies can impact consciousness, awareness, mood, and mental state, thereby influencing our perception of reality.

Sonically, it’s influenced by Coil, Genesis P-Orridge, and Paul Lansky.

His sound design provides a listening experience that “bridges the physical and imaginative realms; sometimes placing the listener in contemplative sanctuary, and at others making them lost—somewhere strange, uneasy, disconnected.”

Alongside the announcement, Bjarki shared the following message:

This new album is my take on all the social weirdness and wellness obsessions happening right now. It kicked off with a track I started in California—the story of a soul that got born into the wrong womb. During that time, I was noticing more and more of this whole ‘wellness religion’ everywhere— people trying to sell you ‘good vibes’ and random people offering you life coaching sessions on Instagram who maybe have less life experience than a houseplant. All these apps that track our every move; it’s like they’re repackaging control and calling it ‘self care’. Capitalism in yoga pants. That’s when I started putting A Guide To Hellthier Lifestyle together. A never ending, self improvement rabbit hole. We are all being sold this idea that we are not quite enough and we need to buy our way out to being better.

At one point, I took a break from the album and started working on another album full of satirical speeches, AI generated voices, where I create my own voices and type in some ideas of speeches, taking the piss out of wellness gurus and life coaches. I messed a lot with these AI voice generators, creating these deep, faux serious monologues. Proper weird stuff, but it cracked me up. Reminded me of the early days, when I was 13, making tracks on Fruity Loops, mucking around with text-to- speech generators. After the break I came back to finish The Guide on a much deeper level.

I moved part of my studio to Latvia and continued in the countryside for few months. I realised that I just wanted to give people something beautiful. This album is a big hug from me to the world. So, yeah, this album is all of that. It’s spiritual, bits and pieces from the past, all these weird cultural moments, and whatever strange places my head goes. It’s a reflection, a rebellion, a bit of a piss take. But mostly, it’s just me, doing what I do.”

The album will be released only in its entirety on December 12, with no advance singles. Instead there are two standalone tracks, the first of which, “10’000 Steps But Still Biting My Nails,” is streaming below.

Read more about Bjarki in his XLR8R feature here.

Tracklisting

01. Intro
02. Real Insight
03. How Do I Love
04. We Are Reasonable People
05. Divine Wash
06. Puppet Parade
07. Healing From Memory
08. Fragile Growth I
09. Fragile Growth II
10. Transmutation Hymn
11. WOMB RIDER
12. Toxic Release
13. VOID VISITOR

A Guide To Hellthier Lifestyle LP is scheduled for December 12 release. Meanwhile, you can stream “10’000 Steps But Still Biting My Nails” in full via the player below and pre-order here.

Podcast 873: Andy Graham

Andy Graham is a Glasgow, Scotland-born electronic music producer who is known for his innovative approach to ambient soundscapes and cinematic atmospheres. Before studying audio technology in college and university, he was always interested in playing turntables; a couple of Gemini belt drives eventually turned into three Technics 1200s, which I guess then sparked everything electronic for him. During university, in the early 2000s, he began releasing music on various independent labels, and afterward he began touring and he’s been doing that ever since. (You might also know him as Sei A, through which he pushes his swinging, bass-heavy style out across more than 20 releases on labels like Will Saul’s AUS Music, and Inner-Sound, a collaboration with Liam Robertson.) In August, he released his third EP on his own label, AG-Sounds, featuring a collection of soundtrack-inspired tracks that push the boundaries of ambient classical music. The release is complemented by artwork from fellow Glasgow artist Calum Matheson, who created an oil painting for the project, and the release includes a remix by Sei A, adding a dynamic club-ready edge to the ambient sound. In celebration of it, Graham has recorded an XLR8R podcast under his name. Dial in for just shy of an hour of ethereal ambience from one of the best in the business.

01. What have you been up to recently?
I’ve being doing a load of production work and also finishing off other EPs with my other artist works as Sei A and also Inner-Sound. I’m also starting to work on a new AG release but moving the sound slightly away from the ambient sound that I’ve previously released on my AG-Sounds label.

02. What have you been listening to?
I’ve been sinking into the sounds of Sonder and Brent Faiyaz over the last few days. And also listening to really early Plastikman stuff, forgetting how good it all was in the early days!

03. Where and when did you record this mix?
I recorded this at home but I’ve been putting tunes aside for it for quite some time, then eventually I tried to piece it all together!

04. Where do you imagine it being listened to?
It’s a very mellow mix. I’ve got a small two-year-old and when putting him to bed I sometimes play parts of it back to help him sleep. It works as well. I feel like this is the start of a series of mellow mixes. One for the tired parents or anyone out there that’s needing to sit and zone out for a bit.

05. How does it compare to what we might hear you play out live?
I’ve started to make plans to bring the Andy Graham stuff to a live performance along with live strings but that’s all part of a bigger plan at the moment. Otherwise if you heard me out playing I’d either be playing house or techno as Sei A or Inner-Sound so it’s very different.

06. What’s next on your horizon?
I’m currently finishing off the next Inner-Sound EP and potentially working with a really cool vocalist. And there’s also a techno Sei A EP which is sounding not too bad.

XLR8R Subscribers can download the podcast below. If you’re not an XLR8R subscriber, you can read more about it and subscribe here.

Tracklisting

01. Andy Graham “Golden Note intro” (Self Released)
02. Paul Buchanan “After Dark” (Newsroom Records)
03. Andy Graham “Golden One” (AG-Sounds)
ann annie – “Wandering” (Self release)
04. Anthéne “Balance” feat. fields we found (Quiet Details)
05. Naemi “Blueberry Ice” feat. PVAS & Shy (3XL)
06. JJ+JS “Syntropy” feat. J (Daisart)
07. Windy & Carl “The Llama’s Dream” (Kranky)
08. Kahimi Karie “Yobitsugi” (Victor)
09. Kahimi Karie “Love is the fruit” (Victor)
10. Sei A “Beautiful Chaos” (Aus Music)
11. Rainy Miller & Space Afrika “The Graves at Charleroi” feat. Coby Sey (Fixed Abode)
12. Low “Hey” (Sub Pop)
13. Mount Kimbie “Boxing” feat. King Krule (Warp)
14. mu tate “∞∞” feat. Space Afrika (Utter)
15. Ennio Morricone “Ostia” (CAM)
16. ann annie “By Morning” (Self Released)
17. Andy Graham “Words by Z outro” (Self Released)

Beatrice Dillon to Launch Label with Double-Single

Beatrice Dillon will release a new double-single next month.

Seven Reorganisations is the first release on Dillon’s new label, HI.

Originally commissioned by artist Mark Fell for Sheffield’s No Bounds Festival in 2022, the entirely acoustic composition is a departure from the distinct electronics of her last album, Workaround. Yet, to the attuned ears of Dillon’s discography, the release “feels less like a rogue turn than an evolution,” we’re told, “where the signature acoustic elements of her previous work are now embraced in their totality.”

It was written and produced by Dillon and performed by UK contemporary classical sextet Explore Ensemble.

The project is an exploration of W.R. Bion’s belief that “the inability to tolerate empty space limits the amount of space available.”

The recordings, one studio and the other live, encourage listeners to “revel in vibrant overtones and microtonal, timbral intricacy,” we’re told.

“A major shift in direction for me…exploring quieter, slowly shifting patterns within the acoustic realm of the sextet: piano, violin, viola, cello, flute, and bass clarinet,” says Dillon. “So grateful to Explore Ensemble for their delicate playing.”

Tracklisting

01. Seven Reorganisations I
02. Seven Reorganisations II
03. Seven Reorganisations I (Live version)
04. Seven Reorganisations II (Live version)

Seven Reorganisations LP is scheduled for November 1 release. Meanwhile, you can stream “Seven Reorganisations I” in full via the player below and pre-order here.

Photo: Emile Holba

The cover photograph is taken from the series “Woods” by US fine-art photographer, Terri Weifenbach

The Mole to Release Fifth Album on Circus Company

The Mole will release a new album next month.

High Hopes is the Canadian artist’s fifth solo album and his second for Circus Company, following The River Widens in 2023.

High Hopes comprises 17 songs that sound nothing like last month’s EP, High Dreams.

We’re told to expect “a collection of moments posing as ideas posing as a narrative stuffed with oddities and surprises that reward the close listen.”

The songs range “from ambient sound bath and hip-hop sludge, up to micro-boogie and almost house before tumbling back down and forth again,” write told.

The Mole is joined by friends and colleagues on several songs. Rick May plays bass and Sophie Trudeau plays and arranges violins.

Original collages from Antonio Carrau envelope the vinyl.

For more information on The Mole, real name Colin de la Plante, check out his XLR8R podcast here.

Tracklisting

01. Sing a Storm
02. Que Rico
03. Heart of a Canary
04. Deeper Filth
05. Just Another Kid
06. Arp on a Table
07. Boulevard
08. Vessel Plans
09. JP Ate Culture
10. Mountain Range
11. nEw fAme
12. That Old Fuck
13. Burger Time
14. Umpah Band
15. Don’t Wake Me Up Bro
16. Not Lost
17. GoinF4er

High Hopes LP is scheduled for November 22 release. Meanwhile, you can stream “Heart of a Canary” in full via the player below and pre-order here.

Curses to Release New Album

Curses will release a new album later this month.

Known for making dark, romantic, cinematic new wave, Curses, real name Luca Venezia, has previously released two full length albums on Dischi Autunno—the latest, Incarnadine, coming in 2022.

Another Heaven, his new album, lands on synth label Italians Do It Better, and it’s once again soaked in Curses’ signature ghostly guitars and haunting vocals.

The record was co-produced by Curses and Johnny Jewel, and it features Marie Davidson and Skelesys.

For more information on Curses, check out his XLR8R podcast here.

Tracklisting

01. Caviar
02. Another Heaven
03. Heart & Cane
04. Like Porcelain
05. Echoes
06. Elegant Death (YouTube)
07. HS2G
08. Vanish feat. Skelesys
09. Helium feat. Marie Davidson

Another Heaven LP is scheduled for October 25 release. Meanwhile, you a stream opener “HS2G” in full via the player below and pre-order here.

Podcast 872: Tadleeh

Tadleeh is the project of Indian-born, Italy-based musician Hazina Francia. Her route into electronic music began when she was a teenager and discovered techno and drum & bass. “Then I’ve moved forward exploring more techniques, genres, and styles,” she says. She released Ego Will Collapse, her club-heavy, brooding debut EP, in 2019 on Berlin’s Yegorka label, and she followed it up last year with Dribbling, released on NKISI’s Initiation. She’s also been remixed by Crystallmess and Slikback, and she contributed to YOUTH’s beloved SPORTS compilation series with “The Unexpected.” In April, she released Lone, her debut album, on which she explores themes of loneliness and identity through ten tracks that blend dark ambient, tribal influences, and club sounds reminiscent of Flora Yin-Wong and Aïsha Devi. In celebration of the release, Francia has recorded an XLR8R podcast, infusing it with some of her favorite downtempo beats during a rare period of downtime.

01. What have you been up to lately?
It’s been a pretty quiet period to be honest. I’ve worked in my studio most of the time, also due to a leg injury which forced me to stop any activity for several months.

01. What have you been listening to?
I recently bought a couple of vinyl at a second-hand market. I found three very interesting records, including a collection of Tibetan ritual music that is massive! I’m gonna sample something for my next work. There’s also another great collection of Japanese music.

03. What is it that appeals to you about dance music?
I love the way the bass can hit your body and your rib cage. It’s devastating and I really need it sometimes, even if my hometown of Forlì-Cesena doesn’t offer many great options!

04. Where and when did you record this mix?
I’ve recorded this mix in my new house in my studio.

05. How did you go about choosing the tracks?
On the day I recorded the mix I was in a chill mood. I wanted to follow my flow.

06. What can the listener expect?
Listeners can chill and dance at the same time. It’s not a club mix as I usually do; my other mixes are dub, liquid, and jungle.

07. How does it compare to what we might hear you play out live?
Playing live for me is totally different. I like to improvise, and to “push” the kick on the dancefloor. I love seeing people dancing in front of me, it’s the best sensation ever. I normally ride from 130-150 bpm. I love playing house, techno, and tribal rhythms.

08. What’s next on your horizon?
I’m working on some new works.

XLR8R Subscribers can download the podcast below. If you’re not an XLR8R subscriber, you can read more about it and subscribe here.

Tracklisting

01. African Head Charge “Positive Thoughts & Mind” (On-U Sound Records)
02. African Head Charge “Some Bizarre” (On-U Sound Records)
03. Biøme “Shadows” (New Moon Recordings)
04. African Head Charge “Orderliness, Godliness, Discipline And Dignity” (On-U Sound Records)
05. DJ Lag “Khonkolo” (Unreleased)
06. Gnork “Lost in X” (Earth Plates)
07. CCL x Flora FM “Iridescent Lake” (Fever AM)
08. LCY “Y” (SZNS7N)
09. Law “1 4 Me” (Repertoire)
10. Sully “Digitalis” (Uncertain Hour)
11. dgoHn “Invisible Sandwich” (Love Love Records)
12. Kola Nut and Law “Flow State” (R-WHITES)
13. Workeforce “Doughy” (Exit Records)
14. Tadleeh “Ego Will Collapse” (CRYSTALLMESS Rmx) (Yegorka)
15. Tadleeh “The Unexpected” (YOUTH)

Flying Lotus Shares New House Track

Flying Lotus has shared a new single, “Ingo Swann.”

“Ingo Swann,” an upbeat, shimmering house number, sounds like nothing from Flying Lotus’s typical oeuvre. It takes its title from the famed psychic of the same name.

The track follows August’s “Garmonbozia,” a syrupy ‘80s cut.

“Garmonbozia” and “Ingo Swann” serve as Flying Lotus’ first singles since The Room in 2022.

Tracklisting

01. Ingo Swann

Ingo Swann is available now.

Photo: Tim Saccenti for Setta Studio

Jackmaster Dies Aged 38

Scottish DJ-producer Jack Revill, better known as Jackmaster, has died of an accidental head injury, aged 38.

Revill’s family confirmed the news on Instagram yesterday.

“It’s with profound sorrow that we confirm the untimely passing of Jack Revill, known to many as Jackmaster,” the post reads. “Jack tragically died in Ibiza on the morning of October 12, following complications arising from an accidental head injury.”

“His family—Kate, Sean, and Johnny—are utterly heartbroken. While deeply touched by the overwhelming support from friends, colleagues, and fans, the family kindly requests privacy as they navigate the immense grief of this devastating loss.”

Born in Glasgow in 1986, Jackmaster was the co-founder of the Numbers label. He started his career at local record shop Rubadub at 14.

On some level, almost all artists are storytellers, but Revill’s ability to spin a compelling tale using nothing but music created by other people is what made him exceptional.

His final show took place last month at Hï Ibiza. He had recently released the single “Nitro,” featuring Kid Enigma.

You can check out Revill’s XLR8R podcast via the stream below.

AD 93 to Release a Collection of Sonic Poetry from BZDB

AD 93 will release a new album from Duncan Bellamy and Belinda Zhawi as BZDB.

Jump Ship, Sit Lean, Be Still, Stand Tall is a collection of sonic-poetry that sets Zhawi’s illuminating, elliptical words in dialogue with diffuse, explorative music and sound by Bellamy.

We’re told that it fluctuates between “expansive contemporary classical arrangements and intimate layered vocal experiments.”

Zhawi is a sound artist based in London and Marseille.

Bellamy is an artist based in London working across painting, photography, and sound. He is a founding member of Portico Quartet.

Tracklisting

01. Dancesing
02. Stockwell
03. Jump Ship
04. Shield
05. Water
06. Tomb
07. Dream Sequence
08. La Recherche
09. Holes
10. Your Absence

Jump Ship, Sit Lean, Be Still, Stand Tall LP is scheduled for November 22 release. Meanwhile, you can stream “Dancesing” in full via the player below and pre-order here.

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