Search "air force 1 black suede" 7 Items

30/70 and Rhythm Section team up once more to deliver their most ambitious remix package to date. Call outs to friends and family of the label and collective offered up a selection of some of the most exciting electronic music producers in the scene and the fruits of the collaboration have arrived.

The remix package continues 30/70’s practise of rebirthing their music in a contemporary club sound but this time takes that intention a step further, veering into unexpected and more experimental territory for the band, calling in a new era for their musical endeavours.

The record opens with a duo that need no introduction, label legends Chaos In The CBD work their magic on TLF, playing on Josh Kelly’s drawn out noir-esque sax notes and Allysha’s whispering tones to create a sultry and sophisticated house number in their typically infectious style.

Next up Utrecht native Carista enters with the sound of the Netherlands for a new wave electro trip fresh off her BBC Radio 1 residency.

Tornado Wallace takes us straight to a hot pink sunset on the long lost festival floor with his Red Face Mix of Tastes Like Freedom.

Closing out are the cerebral and ethereal sounds of Yu Su’s Midnight Blossom Remix, where the Kaifeng-born composer, DJ and sound artist continues her exploration of ‘fourth world’ ambience and left-field dance music.

Over the last few years, 30/70 have become something of a supergroup: with Allysha Joy, Ziggy Zeitgeist, Josh Kelly and Matthew Hayes all soaring as solo artists and band leaders. Individual talents aside, there’s nothing quite like the 30/70 collective united as one unstoppable force; and the synergy is palpable in this tantalising tour-de force.

Invisible Inc once again presents another incredible full-length album from the talented Double Geography. Following on from 2020's “The Indoor Gardener”, the new LP “Open Water” is bathed in a similar blissful atmosphere...it would be appropriate to describe it as rather sublime.

Double Geography aka Duncan Thornley (one half of Weird Weather and studio engineer at MAP Studios), following the success of his debut album “The Indoor Gardener” (also on Invisible Inc) had sent Invisible Inc label boss GK Machine demos of his second and third album, which the label reluctantly declined on the basis that the music didn't sound quite right for the label. However, this fourth studio album fits the bill perfectly. Leaning towards the label's more ambient and laidback output, the album is themed around water, moving on and escape and sounds as unshackled and free-flowing as you'd expect...you can almost feel the breeze in the air and the sun on your skin.

The album is a progression from his previous releases, this time featuring several additional guest musicians, including stalwarts of the London jazz scene Greg Foat and Kaidi Akinnibi, to compliment Thornley's electronics...adding a complexity and depth to each of these compositions and an overall 'organic' quality that makes these new pieces sound like quite a departure from the first album. Fretless bass, clarinet, piano and saxophone decorate the music with refrains and melodies that have been enchanting our reveries since first hearing them.

“I wanted to incorporate some live musicians on this release so called upon some of the talent I'd worked with as an engineer at MAP Studios...that was the main drive behind the music for this release. The tracks are named after things that relate to either leaving behind canal boat living, e.g. Goodbye Great Escape (Great Escape was the name of our boat) or memories from a trip to Hydra, Greece. All sorta water related… On one of our walks around the island we ended up sharing a beach with Pierluigi Collina hence Famous Italian Referee! That track felt like the weirdest of the bunch so it got designated the weirdest name / memory!” (Duncan Thornley, March 2024)

Duncan Thornley - synthesizers, programming, percussion Adam Hayes - drum kit, roto-toms (A1, A3, A5) Pike Ogilvy - congas (A2, A3) Jasper Osbourne - fretless bass (A1, A3, A5) Kaidi Akinnibi - tenor and soprano saxophones (A1, A5) Simeon May - bass clarinet (A2, A3, B2, B4) Greg Foat - piano (b1)

Recorded and mixed at MAP Studios, London Mastered by James Savage at Milk Mastering Cyanotype photography by Lydia Dique Sleeve layout and design by Gordon Mackinnon

Útera is the exceptional and hypnotic sophomore studio album from Buenos Aires native Kaleema (aka Heidi Lewandowski). The album flirts between disparate styles, weaving together elements such as dub with andean flutes, or classic string melodies with ambient overtures that allow the listener to float freely in a sea of emotions. A departure from the gritty urban compositions and tribal vibes of her first album Nómada, this record reveals Kaleema's emotional evolution. Útera is a product of her creative space, a high tech sanctuary wherein she has refined not only her sophisticated electronic production but also her characteristic and beguiling voice. Moving from forceful techno-like rhythms (such as on Rama Negra or Utera) that take us through deep dark jungles, into demure yet rapturous passages on tracks like Portales and Invoco, Útera is ultimately an album that taps into Heidi's deep sense of connection to the natural world, and how her growth as an individual reflects the growth around her. Kaleema is Heidi Lewandowski - a multi-instrumentalist, composer, producer, and singer from Buenos Aires who's planted herself deeply in the potent Latin American electronic scene. She released her debut album Nomada in 2017, receiving an array of critical acclaim for how she seamlessly and hypnotically weaves together contemporary electronic elements and tradition Latin American instrumentals. Since the release of the album, she's been catapulted onto renowned stages such as Mutek Montreal, Lollapalooza Chile among others and has collaborated with artists such as Chancha Via Circuito, Mateo Kingman, Lido Pimienta, and many more. Útera is Kaleema's second studio album and will be released via Wonderwheel Recordings in the Spring of 2021.

Two of Russian electronic music’s rising stars, Phil Gerus and Alexander Lay-Far, invite you to join them at the Solitary High Social Club. While table service is provided, they’d much rather you throw caution to the wind and head to the dancefloor.
Before joining forces in the studio, both Moscow-based musicians have delivered a string of memorable solo productions. Lay-Far has previously released a wealth of material on such labels as Local Talk, City Fly, Lazy Days and 4Lux Black, while synthesizer fetishist Gerus has showcased his electrofunk and disco-fired cuts on Futureboogie Recordings, Sonar Kollektiv, Public Release and Superior Elevation Records.
The five tracks that make up Solitary High Social Club deliver a perfect marriage of the two producers’ distinctive solo styles, combining the rich musicality of Lay-Far’s house productions with the spacey, intergalactic electronics of Gerus’s discoid adventures. In many ways, it’s a marriage made in heaven – or in Lay-Far’s celebrated In-Beat-Ween Studio, at least.
The duo’s spacey and melodious musical fusion is arguably best exemplified by lead cut “City 2 City, Star 2 Star”, a widescreen, mid-tempo disco epic rich in tactile Rhodes riffs, supernova synth solos, delay-laden drum beats, tumbling melody lines and heavy analogue bass. Fittingly, the track returns in “Reprise” form – think sweeping, weightless ambient bliss – to round off the EP. Elsewhere, the duo provides further proof of their combined musical talents. Check, for example, the gentle drum machine electro beats, cascading new age
melodies and sparkling, stretched-out synthesizer chords of the impeccably beautiful “Am I Tripping”, or the devilishly percussive, mind-altering brilliance of “Love Life”, where mutant electro bass, wide-eyed chords and alien melodies rise above a heavy, Afro-influenced groove.
As for “Snowflakes On Her Lips”, you’ll struggle to find a more confident and positive dancefloor workout all year. Blessed with killer piano parts, darting analogue synth-bass and a range of disco-tinged musical flourishes, it’s by far and away the most celebratory moment on an already happy-go-lucky EP. It confirms, too, our initial hunch: at the Solitary High Social Club, life is always good.

La Musica' is a dreamy track for the perfect Balearic experience. Written by the 'Balearicos' it comes with two great remixes, one from the chillout legend Cris Coco and another one from Rudy's Midnight Machine. Residentes Balearicos are a duo from Ibiza, consisting of Luca Averna and Alessandro Doretto. Luca is a DJ and works mainly with his friend Camilo Miranda at the legendary Pikes Hotel. Echoes and synthetic pads build up the atmosphere across the original version's intro taking you to a heavenly happy place until the beloved classic combo of a Tr909 and Korg M1 piano send us all straight back to a '90s open air dance floor in Ibiza. This is where the journey starts, accompanied by the piano chords and Brazilian sounding voices washing over you with calls of 'La Musica'. Perfect for a set on the beach, soft sand under foot or as a warmup record in the club, it will fit perfectly in your Balearic session. Rudy's Midnight Machine takes the elements written by R.B. and shakes everything into a disco dimension. All the elements for the perfect track are in place: funky bassline, open hi hats and muted guitar plus an exploding chorus with a great melodic hook. This is a must have tune if you are into disco with a classy and modern feel. Chris Coco's remix is a classic take made with great taste. He keeps the harmonic elements as well as the bass line almost intact, playing around with the vocals and adding melodic touches that give a tropical feeling to proceedings. Don't be fooled by the soft intro because the rhythm will soon take you dancing with a smile spread across your face.

France, 1990. Fun Radio, NRJ, Skyrock set a new pace, and their crushing hegemony irrevocably marks the end of the free radio utopia. The giants become vital in the hit industry and carry on fuelling France’s greatest invention: la variété. A quintessentially French version of British dance pop with a very specific tang to it, too coy to emulate trendy clubs’ and rave parties’ music, europop cautiously tests the waters of what will soon turn into a tsunami : house music. Is house the soundtrack of the 90s? In Europe, it gave steam to comeback bands just as much as to the most memorable formations of the decade, while in France it paved the way for the global success of French Touch. “Real” house music emerges in early 80’s Chicago (where the Warehouse club, which allegedly gave its name to the genre, closes down in 1983). England’s acid house and Belgium’s new beat, its European offshoots, fed the cravings of tabloids in 1988 and 1989. The house music we’re interested in though, the type bound to soon overwhelm European charts, is already pretty far away from the afro-american music born in Chicago. So far away it inherited a new name: dance music. Just like it had been the case with disco a few years back, house and techno aren’t exactly in the good books – acid house and new beat even less so. And it’s precisely the genre’s mainstream iteration this compilation focuses on; the house en français, which strives to get on board the running train in 1990. The house which sports the all-over jean look, bandana, cap, chewing gum, peugeot 205 complete with snazzy beats on the radio. The big deal big fuss type, miles away from the original, underground house. It might not have been born in the nineties, but that’s clearly when house music became mainstream. What underpins house music might even be what is to define the decade to come: jingles and pin’s, megaclubs and clips. That and the hits. Very soon house is everywhere: on the air of the big radio stations and on TV, creeping in as far as kids’ programs. The French may not even notice, but they’re all listening to it. Meanwhile, music producers smell the gravy and, willy-nilly with the earnest, enlightened amateurs, propose their very own club versions, cross breeding French variété and house. The result: a chart and club ready ersatz that is to quickly seduce young audiences. Hits, that’s what we want – or tubes for the French, like in House Tube, one of the landmarks of this compilation. The tracklist, like the soundtrack to a club night that never happened, fictitiously reconstructs the fleeting moment when house made its arrival in France, bridging the gap between variété and eurodance. House quiproquo House music barges in like a UFO on European land. With the arrival of this repetitive, yet transgressive music, tabloids freak out, while widespread incomprehension over the genre inspires dubious misconceptions. The media are happy to suckle on the music’s popularity, though well hidden behind the veil of decorum: NRJ airs a remake of a famous new beat track, Rock To The Beat, in which, however, “ecstasy” is swapped for “fantasy”. Dechavanne, thoughtful as usual, calls fans junkies and nazis on his tv show, Ciel Mon Mardi – though the show’s theme song is nothing else than a house track. The footage became a classic, and the comments, sampled by producers, provided the vocals for a flagship new beat track (Dr. Smiley – L’Echo Dechavanne). The Dechavanne episode is representative of the general confusion surrounding this barbarian music; skepticism remained high, even (if not more so?) in the musical world. In fact, it’s the subject of the unequivocal House Tube: “House tube, bouse tube ; on n’aime pas vraiment le house tube House soupe, bouse soupe ; on n’aime pas vraiment le house soupe” That is: “House hits, house shit; we don’t really dig house hits House soup, shit soup; we don’t really dig house soup” The success of house music inspired many exasperated reactions, just like House Tube (the B-side of a deodorant ad’s theme). Laurent Castellvi, surprised that the joke-track he composed at the time still sparked interest, told us: “At the beginning of the nineties, house was all over the radio. It annoyed me a little that most tracks were based on the same two chords. House Tube is a joke, it’s me sitting at the piano playing two chords. And that’s what the lyrics say.” On the other hand and following up with the next track, Fred de Fred was clearly in the know. The Frenchman had moved to the epicentre of the English commotion, Sheffield, a few years prior to the arrival of house. That’s where Warp (Autechre, Aphex Twin) originated – and at the time Warp still went by the name FON, Fred already hung around in their studios. Robert Gordon, Fred’s pal and co-founder of the label, signs the remix of one of his 1989 tracks, Sous Sous. In 1991, he composes a record of songs, and when it comes to pairing a suitable club remix single, Fred knows what’s up. Je T’Aime En Amour, sleek rock, mutates into a syncretism of french chanson and nearly rave breakbeat (here provided in its “2020” version). Fred de Fred is exemplary of the variété-club crossover driving this record; his career started within the collective ZNR, he crossed paths with the likes of Alain Bashung and then the Stone Roses, was close to Warp, and ended up signing a record on Barclay. Studio sharks Electronic musicians are often referred to as “producers”. This emanates from the delimitation of roles in the making of recorded music, traditionally assigned as singer, songwriter and producer. The latter takes care of the recording per se; that is, he manages the project, rents the studio, hires the musicians (known as requins de studio – studio sharks – for accumulating studio sessions) and cashes in at the end. The artist in electronic music is the producer alone, who essentially combines all roles at once: totally autonomous in his home studio, he can do without musicians or singers. The moment we’re interested in is this transitory period in which the two types of producers coexist. On the one hand, the new producers, like Fred Rister with Everybody Dancing, who recorded in a shack on a 4-track recorder, according to the sound engineer. On the other, the revival of old brigade producers, always on the lookout for a hot deal. The producer behind Près De Toi is of the latter type – pursuing a long musical career though quick to forget Claire-An (and so did posterity). New beat’s heritage isn’t negligible : its pioneers fashioned the “new generation” producer formula, a one-man-band in his machine-filled home studio. They’re also the first to churn out major hits, hitting the floor of a few Belgian clubs and eventually making it to the European top 50. What seems like mad creative abundance (hundreds of tracks between 1987 and 1989) is in fact the work of a handful of Belgian producers, barely ten, hidden behind multiple aliases. Among them, Marc Neuttiens, Jack Mauer and Fabian Van Messen, who often work as a trio and produce some of the genre’s most iconic tracks. In the midst of which On Se Calme, produced under the name Bassline Boys, sampling none other than Christophe Dechavanne. It’s no coincidence then that Anne Zamberlan should knock on their door with in mind the idea of an antidrug track. She wants to make noise, they know how to make a hit. And the track has it all: proto-acid gimmicks, big beat, house piano, verses rapped with a hiphouse flow… It might have been great, but even a Virgin Megastore ad she appeared in two years later got her more success. À la folie, je danse This tale is also the one of the pioneers who brought house music to France, first on the radio, well before rave parties or Laurent Garnier’s nights in Paris. As soon as the early eighties, Robert Levy Provençal plays the edits of the young Dimitri from Paris on the airwaves of Radio 7. At the time they’re unusual: like one would use samples in hip hop, Dimitri loops soul, funk and disco tracks, creating extended mixes. He breaks down tracks, reducing them to a gimmick or a bass line, thus creating easy-to-mix tools for DJs and bringing them closer to the sounds of house and techno music. He soon becomes resident DJ on NRJ and hosts the popular show Hot Mix. Like his colleague RLP, Dimitri proposes a trailblazing selection, blending together French news and the odd new sound from the States. At the turn of the nineties, when europop wants in at the club, only these influencers master the dance side of things. There’s RLP, Bibi Fricotin, Dom T… And Dimitri, who becomes the assigned variété remixer, adapting dozens of songs that were never meant to make it into a club. The general tendency however is less to official remixes than to bootlegs: a “pirate”, unauthorised and often private remix – just like Jacques Dutronc’s Opium, stretched out into a nearly 7-minute-long mix. The nineties also set the stage for the first TV stars, the ones who become famous without anyone really knowing why. Take, say, Jordy, four years old. The kid, in his diapers, sings along a New York style, house piano production and somehow makes it to the top 50’s number 1. For years, Jordy plays out the role of the child star and demonstrates that dance music is a perfectly profitable affair: it fuels the radios turned juggernauts, and lands on TV, seeping through music programs… In 1989, Vincent Lagaf (a famous french TV host) dives in with Bo Le Lavabo. The pitch is simple: the TV host adapts a track well known overseas, Lil Louis’ French Kiss (without any direct reference), simply adding lyrics taken from a sketch. He’s rather clear on his intentions (“Well, that’s just how you make it to the top 50”) and has no mercy for a musical genre he clearly understands nothing about (“See? Easy.”). Single night stars The club is a democratic place where anyone can be a star for a night (a nineties remix of Andy Warhol’s famous saying, meaning to imply: never has fame been so near, yet so far). The ghost of stardom haunts all of these forgotten tracks… This is particularly true in the case of Techno 90, Fred Rister’s first band. The DJ hailing from Northern France takes part in the short-lived though seminal Maxximum radio and mixes everywhere on both sides of the Belgian border, quickly becoming a local celebrity. At the turn of the century, he starts collaborating with David Guetta – another DJ, slightly better known than Rister and a rising star of the Parisian club scene. Together they eventually co-sign a few global hits: Love Is Gone, When Love Takes Over, I Gotta Feeling. This tale is the story of French variété’s unforeseen encounter with the avant-garde, of DJs who rose to the status of pop stars and others who descended deep into the rave party scene. It’s all of these oddities our compilation seeks to recount, like a wacky TV show featuring anonymous stars, forgotten ghosts of a decade bygone (Jacques Dutronc, Jean-Francois Maurice) or yet to come (David Guetta), inspired though unlucky blokes plus a girl band. And somewhere in the shambles, the tracklist of our compilation, the B-side of dance music’s official story – what could have been France’s alternative hit machine.

2022 repress!

Growing Bin burst into 2018 with a bang, crash and symbol splash, uniting a premier pair of percussion obsessives for a supernatural mission into the heart of the rhythm.
Dressed in the pitch black of Dusseldorf stands Wolf Mueller, master of the tropical drums and seven time Salon Des Amateur breakdance champion. Repping Cologne and Berlin is Niklas Wandt, Germany’s funkiest drummer and a mixed musical artist as adept in experimental jazz as demented Eurodance. Standing toe to toe in a no holds barred, no drum unstruck groove contest, these two titans will make you swing your pants like a Crash Bandicoot victory dance... so stretch out and step into ‚Instrumentalmusik von der Mitte der World‘.
Taking to their task with the joyful abandon of two big kids getting creative with the Kindergarten music tray, Müller & Wandt marry dripping electronics, Froesean pads and rubber-limbed basslines with tribal polyrhythms, C2 claps and Indonesian shakers - and that‘s only on the A1. Comprising of three trance-inducing epics, a handful of medium-sized movers and a couple of freeform interludes, this dynamic double pack could almost pass as a lost Library masterpiece; but our mind guides go Furthur, fusing esoteric funk and free-jazz freak-out a truly transportive experience. Prepare to enter a world of techno totems and neon skulls, shades of Yello and excellent birds. Within these grooves lies a transdimensional pathway between the Temple of Doom, the Twilight Zone and De Palma‘s Paradise, brought to life in a shamanic rite.
Forget the healing frequencies of Growing Bin‘s ambient outings, this time we‘re dancing for mental health.