DJ Dem
Ektos Ep

MGUN aka Manuel Gonzales offers a fresh take on his Detroit roots with three tracks that escape the usual categories. No two subsequent bars are identical, simultaneously reflecting and satisfying our curiosity.

A reference work, a body of knowledge, a record of human endeavour: this archival release of works from Arcarsenal's fertile collaboration in the period 2011–2016 is all of those things. Pressed on its two discs you will find, in the duo's own words, the 'broken flowers that needed just a little care and attention to bloom'. And exquisite flowers they are, rooted in the reduced formality of minimalism, yet prone to frequent and unabashed florescence. Ranging from their very earliest productions, made with limited gear, through to later recordings from a fully-equipped studio, the tracks move from techno to dub and house and into blissful after-hours and ambient, all with the rich and spacious imprint that is their own. Most of these tracks have been firm favourites on the dancefloor, whether played by other DJs or Arcarsenal themselves, yet this is the first time any of them have seen an official release. This 'Compendium' is a record of Arcarsenal's past achievements; only time will tell what new endeavours the two may pursue.

return_backspace is excited beyond measure to present to the world the music of a young marco repetto.conceived during the heydays of atari-sequencing, under his beloved moniker planet love, the bern-residing, italian producer at long last will disclose some of his earliest compositions

I would often wander into the forest after school. This wasn’t Sheffield, or Manchester, as much as I thought I wanted it to be. Sometimes the mushrooms we picked would make me sick, which added a vital sense of adventure to the days and weeks that could pass without much happening at all. Something to talk about, a story we made together. It was a dead city. Not great, not terrible. Nothing to break an illusion. We had no idea what we were doing, but a reality check was the last thing we were looking for. Wasted from the youth centre, we would go and listen to people spin records at Skandal. The melodies in The Cure songs lingered with me for days. I wanted to make my own music. I started to leave early and bang onmetal into a microphone. I saved up and bought a Casio FZ-1 sampler and drum machine. We poured ourselves into bands. We would stay in and practice, programming MIDI on an Atari ST-1024. Nobody would hear this music. My Korg MS-10 was stolen by an ex-band mate from our rehearsal basement. I would dive inside myself, burrowing a tunnel to a new world. Configuring an inner system. A fascination with Clock DVA became an obsession with techno. KLF. Future Sound of London. Themelancholy was still there, in traces, but it was moving somewhere, looking for company. Growing. Ecstatic. Ecstasy! I left the basement to share this with others. I moved to the big city and the music got faster. My process got faster. Collaborations. Plug-ins. That’ll do. Take it to the people! What used to be a personal practice became a public practice. A call and response. A communal effort. Abstract numbers heard this music. My technique sharpened. My studio served a function greater than my own; a system outside myself. Then I found the DAT tapes, and the VHS footage. They had traveled with me. Far from a nostalgic exercise, this was a reclamation of the original impulse. A reminder of the music I always wanted to make. Reorientingmyself with analog machines and obsolete formats, I stole hours to bring this work into the world. I hope that it speaks to you.