Warp Records

"My origin story as a songwriter and artist set the context for the catharsis I experienced while making new avatar. I wrote my very first songs in a punk house. The indie scene I was part of provided me with an outlet for genre-defying experiments that illuminated intersections I was hearing in my head. We didn't spend tons of time on songs cuz the kids in that scene didn't care about nailing it. It was (lowkey) about messing up, giving 0 fucks and dismantling the need to be perfect in the first place. It took the pressure off and allowed my first vision of myself to blossom. I used a similar approach with this body of work - moving through with a lot of intention while capturing the freedom and spontaneity that inspired my inception as an artist. What you're getting with this album is another facet of my world expressed with a new level of conviction, sometimes in the form of love+devotion and other times in the form of rage." - Kelela

Squarepusher: Kammerkonzert [CD]

Seefeel: Sol.hz [CD]

Aphex Twin: Selected Ambient Works Volume II [3 CD]

Brown Danny: Stardust 2026 [CD]

An inspired coming together of musical minds. To celebrate the 20th anniversary of In A Space Outta Sound, George Evelyn aka DJ E.A.S.E has handed over the tapes to dub maestro Adrian Sherwood to go on a heady version excursion with eight tracks from the original record, in the spirit of the reggae and sound system roots that informed the original album. The result is a fresh take on a much-loved classic, in the lineage of albums such as Massive Attack's No Protection and Spoon's Lucifer On The Moon. Features bold new re-works of iconic tracks such as "You Wish" (appearing here as "You Bliss") and "Flip Ya Lid" (mutated into "Flippin Eck"). As well as his trademark mixing desk wizardry, Sherwood has also brought in some of the core On-U Sound players to add additional instrumentation and turn this collaboration into something which is much more than the sum of its parts.

Tranquilizer isn’t the sound of sedation but resurfacing. Daniel Lopatin isn’t condemning our need for escape, but exploring what happens after. The record maps a movement from weightless calm into something more grounded, the necessary cycle of withdrawal and return that keeps us sane in a world both overwhelming and mundane. We plummet from the watery bliss of “Lifeworld” into the mournful melancholy of “Cherry Blue” and spastic grooves of “Rodl Glide.” As always with OPN, the real collides with the unreal. Listen closely and you will hear the scrape of fingers on a fretboard, a stone sliding across a dungeon floor, the squeak of a door opening. His music has never been an abstract color field; it has weight, edges, shadows. Tranquilizer feels like falling out of a dream you can still touch.