spclnch

Special Zip shapes his narrative into an album with bold, unpredictable movement. A melancholic intro of philosophical keys gives way to something else sooner than you'd expect. An active rhythm section takes over across several tracks, pulling between progressive energy, psychotropic dub, and underground minimal with a kink-laced aesthetic. The remixes from Toki Fuko and Alexander Bogdanov work like yin and yang — balancing calm against rave, drive against detachment, threading tribal and techno into each other's edges. . Dr. Caligari was notoriously out of his mind — a genius fixated on experiments and a former lecturer at the Department of Experimental Phonetics. His students, Spacelunch included, spoke of him with cautious admiration: “Too smart to be normal; too bold to stop.” His laboratory looked like a hand-welded cosmos: cables everywhere, diodes, and the soft hiss of electricity. “What’s that?” Spacelunch nodded toward the large glass dome. “My new invention that allows sound to become tangible. Care to take a look?” The Professor and Cat carefully stepped inside. “You’re about to be the first to witness the voice of space!” “Hey, we didn’t sign up for this!” “Doesn’t that make the experiment more interesting?” Caligari smiled and turned a dial. Their bodies stretched like strands of pasta and vanished. An instant later, they found themselves in another dimension: towers of transistors and coils rose into the sky, the air thrummed with low-frequency oscillations, and every flash of light carried the rhythm of a sonic lattice. Almost at once, the image wavered like old film, went black, and then snapped back to the laboratory. Caligari sat at the console, eyes fixed on the monitors. “It worked,” he whispered. “Perfect phase alignment!”

Every new release gives us a little rush, and real satisfaction once it lands. What follows is a sequence of scenes and angles, all rooted in a shared dub foundation. Across four tracks, Spectral Model conjures images of the tropics and their tribal drums, intricate shamanic voices wrapped in psychogenic delay, deep illustrations cut with hi-hat breaks, and a tight, technical underground core. Dig in. . The Astrojet carried Spacelunch and Cat in an unknown direction, weaving between asteroids at tremendous speed. A hollow feeling crept up their throats, leaving only the occasional swallow. Both had been quiet for a long time, so the first word pierced the silence like a splinter. "I have déjà vu." "What do you mean by that?!" "We never should've got mixed up in that damn auction." "Don't start, furball. Melvin will turn up." "I just hope in one piece…" The Professor looked away, uploaded the map, and pressed his finger on a blinking dot. It marked the nearest moon — somewhere to catch their breath and figure out a plan. The onboard computer traced the route and announced they were approaching the gravitational field. Only minutes to landing. "I can't take this anymore. My brain is completely fried." "I've got nothing either, Doc." "We'll stop at some local place, get a bite, and work out where to start looking." The staff at the empty café "Sam's" were glad to have visitors and took their order right away. A welcome treat on the house was already on the table, inviting the two wanderers to sample not only the local food but a heated argument yet to come. The evening was off to a rough start.

Deemkeyne takes over the relay of densifying spaces. Thick as tar, a dark substance spills across the ground, gradually transforming into an active matter. As its radius of influence expands, it begins to assume different forms. It first grows more adhesive, penetrating the cells of living organisms. Then it alters all living matter at a genetic level and initiates the renewal of the surrounding environment. Eventually, a new reality takes shape. From this point on, everything surrounding it exists as a self-sustaining dub ecosystem, governed by sonic processes of different orders. . One month later. Cat had been discharged early in the morning, so he had the rest of the day ahead of him — ideally to be spent in good company. The Professor was waiting at the reception to sign the remaining documents. Suddenly, the elevator doors opened, presenting Spacelunch with his renewed companion. “Hey, Fluffy! You’re healing like a dog!” “I’ve got nine lives, remember? Did you bring the gift?” Their tight hug marked more than just a reunion. Life has a way of putting things back into their place — often to teach a lesson. Sometimes a harsh one. What once seemed insurmountable can suddenly feel harmless, even amusing, when one faces a real threat. “Let’s go to Melvin’s — we’ll surprise him!” “I knew you’d say that, Doc. Let’s grab some wok on the way.” Like that, after a bit of preparation, the two friends stood in front of Melvin’s apartment. They exchanged a glance and decided to scare him with a loud knock. After the first bang, the door creaked open slightly. No one was inside. The place was in disarray. At first, it felt like a failed prank — but there was nothing funny about it. On the table lay a crumpled note, covered in strange symbols and numbers. Their return to normal life had come much sooner than expected…

The Black Series once again introduces declassified files. R.Hz has documented an unexplained sonic phenomenon. It seeps beneath the skin, triggering derealization and a sense of detachment from the self. The dark environment is filled with ominous rustles, trip-infused samples carrying fragments of thought emerging from the depths of consciousness, viscous dub matter, and horror-laced pads set against fractured rhythmic structures. . The experiment aboard orbital station Sequoia-4 began as a routine test of the acoustic array. The team attempted to synchronize an analogue resonator with a quantum audio synthesizer. The two incompatible frequencies were expected to cancel each other out. Instead, the instruments registered a stable wave. It didn’t fade, on the contrary, it did respond to every sound, every movement around it. At first, they assumed a coding error, but the wave began adapting to the researchers’ voices, shifting its amplitude and rhythm. Within hours, its spectrum started to resemble a heartbeat. The recording was forwarded to the Analysis Division, where it was named Hybrid Dub — a hybrid resonance formed between the machine and the human senses. The phenomenon proved unpredictable: each listener described different effects, from gentle euphoria to vivid recollections of memories that had never occurred. Even after the system was powered down, a faint signal persisted in the ether — as if the mechanism had learned to breathe on its own. Some claimed that, when replayed, traces of the ocean, rustling leaves, and distant voices could be heard — as though the signal had passed through layers of living matter and remembered them. The project was shut down, and the archive sealed. Only one line remained in the final report: “The signal wasn’t created — it discovered us.”

Dub surfer Javier Ho opens the season, gliding through waves of delay and navigating the depths of the genre. In this new tetralogy, he maintains a measured rhythmic range from track to track, all immersed in layers of hazy, fog-drenched synthesizers. . “Just think about it, you narrowly dodged the bullet from my double. Bloody madness!” “At least he didn’t complain as much. By the way, Doc… since when do you know how to fire a blaster?” “I don’t. That was my first time holding one. Must’ve been the Japanese whisky.” Cat let out a soft chuckle, but immediately winced in pain. IV lines, a pile of pills, and the steady pulse of a cardiac monitor all signalled a deep, still-fresh wound. The Professor had paid a high price to have his friend treated here, under the care of the finest specialists in the galaxy. The wards of Healthy Spirit Clinic were equipped with the latest technology designed to fight for the lives of high-ranking officials… or reckless explorers. “Melvin really helped us. We should thank him properly — once you’re back on your feet.” “Great idea! We could all go out for Chinese. Damn… I could really use a shrimp wok right now.” The operation was successful. The surgeons removed the explosive round that, by sheer luck, never detonated. A scar would remain on the tailed patient’s body — but as they say, every scar is a story. But do shared ideals survive conflict? Though the matter was settled for now, the final answer would reveal itself in the pursuit of new adventures.

@symbiotical-records @amaral-borges

Utro Records dives into darker territory with Peter Zherebtsov’s Habitat EP — stripped, industrial-leaning minimal built on weighty low-end and tense atmospheres. Our pick, “Heavy Hitting”, sits right in the center of that mood: slow pressure, metallic echoes and a groove built on dense rhythm and controlled restraint. @utrorec @unknownartist88 @nvradr

Released on TAKT Recordings, The Rin EP by Tarek JR operates in that narrow band where minimal house becomes almost architectural — reduced, steady, and precise. Za__Paradigma’s version pushes it deeper into the room: longer shadows, heavier air, and a groove that deepens with each pass, gradually locking into place. @taktrec @user-389265331 @zaurik-1

To connect with higher intelligence, E-Mantra shapes expansive sonic fields with shifting ranges. Embedded within them are messages about the hidden rituals of the port of Constanța, the power of untamed elements, and philosophical invocations. Micro-crackling textures, cosmogenic synthesizers, and dense, space-filling pads draw the listener into a hypnotic state, gently softening the narrative of a new chapter. . Having regained consciousness, Spacelunch looked around and realised he was still exactly where he had been. His heart was pounding — half from the hangover, half from a growing sense of dread. Struggling to focus, he used his portable communicator to initiate a transfer to the Cat’s location. Since Melvin still had Cat’s service blaster, his route required an extra stop. A few minutes later, a smart car pulled up to the intermediate address. Its door lifted, revealing a slim, slightly unsteady figure with messy curls. Waiting on the other side, in the darkness, stood a large caterpillar. “Mel, did you bring the gun? We don’t have time.” “You look rough, Doc. I’ll lose my mind if something happens to either of you. Maybe I should come with you?” “Just give me the damn gun. And stay on the line.” “Here. Please… be careful.” The professor jumped back into the smart car without another word, and it disappeared around the intersection. The autopilot counted down the remaining distance until a run-down industrial area appeared in the window. “You have arrived,” the navigator intoned like a command. Spacelunch rushed toward the building entrance as a desperate scream came out from the inside. Cat lay on the floor, gasping for air. He was wounded. “Taste this, you freak!” The double’s head burst to pieces from a precise shot. “Meeeow! You actually came… Don’t leave me again…” “Hang on, buddy! The help is on the way.”

Fraudlin finished his cigarette in no time. His only breakfast was a cup of instant coffee — all he could afford after a night at a casino. Instead of brushing his teeth, he rinsed his mouth with another bitter sip, then sprayed himself with cologne to mask the smell of sweat and questionable places. The young gambler, fired up on adrenaline, often neglected basic hygiene, but today there was another, far more serious reason: an informant had delivered alarming news. And he had to move fast. His head felt like a dusty chest that had suddenly been thrown open. Fraudlin rushed out of the house the moment he realised something irreversible was about to happen. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he reached the comms point to send Spacelunch the coordinates through a secure channel. His thin fingers trembled as he dialled. The first call was declined. The second… “Yeah?” “Urgent! Cat is with you right now — and he’s in danger!” “What are you talking about?!” “Well, technically, he’s with another you. One of the Aerospace Corporation’s goons stole your smart-bracelet. They activated the portal and sent a double after your friend to eliminate him and frame you. I’m sending the location!” The professor sprang to his feet, turned suddenly pale, and fainted. Strained nerves mixed with alcohol made a toxic blend. Now, only luck could change the course of what was coming.

Inspector Tech Spirit from the Ecological Commission has been urgently dispatched to a distant planet. A special audio transmission has been recorded to synchronize with the frequency of its inhabitants and observe their behavior. The investigation is now underway. @techspiritset

“Hey, move your paws!” “You’re acting weird. How much longer are we going to wander around?” “We need to stay away from prying ears. You’ll find out soon enough…” The road the professor had chosen grew darker and grimmer. Occasional flickers of light ran across his face twisted in an unreadable grimace, half from the drizzle, half from some inner strain. Eventually, the narrow alleys led them to an abandoned building. Its worn-down walls seemed more suited for rituals than for an honest conversation. The drizzle turned into heavy rain, leaving them no choice but to seek shelter inside. Shaking off the water, Cat was looking around when a faint silhouette flashed through one of the doorways. Spacelunch’s hand slowly reached into his pocket. “You okay, Doc?” “Looks like your feline instincts have taken a day off. The road is paved, fluffy.” “What? Road to where?” “To hell. Say goodbye, idiot.” A gun stared straight into his trusting eyes. The cold metal seemed to whisper that the warmth of friendship was about to fade away, too.

Moving Pictures’ new VA drifts along the edge where perception and sound blur — slow dub currents, restrained movement, and a quiet focus that rewards close listening. Dubmuse by Daniel Neighbour sits right at the center of that mood: a deep, humming dub piece with a steady pulse and details that only fully reveal themselves over time. @movpic @dj-neighbour

The professor sat on the terrace of an abandoned tech facility. Once, solar panels were tested here. Now, it looked as if even the Sun itself had lost interest. A few stubborn bushes survived thanks to the rain and defiance. Overhead, an old floodlight kept short-circuiting — a flicker in memory of shifts that would never happen again. Maybe silence had chosen this forgotten perimeter to speak finally. By his feet sat a flask of Japanese whisky — a gift from Cat. The very one given after their first clean mission. Spacelunch stared into the dark, trying to sense the outlines of life. Things used to be simpler. A home on Earth. A garage where a pet — once just a cat saved from a burning room as a cub — first spoke. “I should’ve never started those experiments,” he thought. But the images came anyway — the action, the laughter, the arguments — all of it made sense once, as long as someone was walking beside him, who could meow outside of protocol. Somewhere between the missions, the mistakes, the tall tales — their bond had dissolved. But by now, it was far too late to analyze anything.

The night felt almost mystical. The flickering of neon signs brought to life the trash bins and fire escapes — street romance in its purest form. But not everything fit together as neatly as it seemed. Foul-smelling steam rolled out from sewer grates. From deep within a nearby alley came distant screams, followed by hurried footsteps. Somewhere above, the shriek of a police drone was concealed by the noise of the district. Not far from there, at the corner of a food stall, Cat sat. Poking at cold noodles with a pair of chopsticks, he gazed at the stars and thought about home. Then, suddenly, he froze, his eyes locked at something in front. Someone was approaching fast, with a familiar stride. “Heads up, fluffy.” “Doc…” “We don’t have much time. Let’s shake hands and forget about the fight.” “You think you can just vanish and then reappear like nothing happened?” “I was being an idiot. I know that. But it’s not safe here. I’ll explain on the way.” Cat nodded and followed silently. Memory and logic tangled into a knot — clinging to the professor’s voice, his tone, his face. Something felt… off. It wasn’t just the apology. There was something weird about him. The doubt that was creeping through him gave way to determination. They had a lot to talk about.

SPCLNCH-BLACK continues: a series where minimalism becomes message, and sound drifts between the real and the imagined. Chapter two — “Echoes From Iconia” by Basicnoise. Shifting time layers, slow pulses, and distant patterns with no clear origin. The signal is a trace of something that was here — or still is. You listen. Something listens back. . Logbook. Exploration mission. Day 1. The planet is dead. An anomaly is detected — the time flow is slightly distorted. Day 2. Landed in the central crater. The clocks of our suits show different times from the clocks on the ship. The gap is increasing. Day 4. Logs contain records of events that never happened. A report of tomorrow’s evacuation appeared in the system. No one wrote it. Day 5. We found footprints leading from the landing site to the crater, identical to ours. The ship log was discovered nearby. Final entry: “Do not enter the crater.” Log transmission terminated. The crew did not reestablish contact.

Somewhere in the mobile lab… “As soon as the instructions have arrived, we will open the portal.” “Uploading the memory… and done!” Everything was going according to plan. Two figures in matte suits stood by the station where a smart bracelet was secured. Its flickering indicator showed that the synchronisation and data reading were in progress. The lines from the Protocol lit up on the holographic panel, along with Spacelunch’s face and the message: “Cloning completed successfully. Compatibility confirmed. Double awaiting command.” The professor’s copy looked more convincing than the original. The only thing left was to activate the teleport via a special procedure and send the double to Chinatown, for which the coordinates were preloaded. For millennia, the best minds of the Aerospace Corporation had built their reputation on cutting-edge tech. But at what cost? The Cybernetics Department had long mastered the art of acquiring — by any means necessary — external breakthroughs and weaving them into their own algorithms. This wasn’t just about innovation anymore. It was a confrontation. And its final result would be a delicacy for any of the Minimal Antagonist’s protégés.

They simply called it “The Laboratory.” There were no windows — only the hum of life-support systems and aquariums filled with lifeforms that defied classification. On evenings like this, Spacelunch would tune the setup, Cat would yank out unnecessary cables with his tail, and everything would freeze in anticipation of the signal. A deep, steady mix filled the space, seeping into reservoirs, consoles, and whispering sensors. Something flared, something trembled — as if the environment itself was trying to synchronize with the rhythm. Later, a new chapter would appear in the Professor’s log: “Sample 93.” @asphalt_layer

The casino, tucked away in an old freight terminal, had no name on the facade. Locals simply called it “The Hum” — a place where you could lose your money, and maybe even your mind. The air was thick with tobacco smoke and cheap perfume, and the ceiling sank into a pulsing dim light. Spacelunch passed a row of slot machines, where regulars pressed the buttons like condemned souls, and stopped at the roulette table. Fraudlin, a scrawny gambling addict with a blank expression, was sucking the last puff out of a cigarette butt as if no one else existed. Suddenly, a figure in a long coat appeared beside him. — You only show up when things get tough. — Fair. Today I need your ears. — Heard about Cat. Word is, the bracelet has changed hands — more than once. And not just the bracelet. Some data on your whereabouts, too. — Any idea who’s behind it? Fraudlin flicked the ash, watching the roulette pill slide into a black slot. — Rumour has it the trail runs through the old customs department. A lot of middlemen down there are working under the Corporation’s wing. Too neat to be a coincidence. — You think Cat set me up? — Sometimes it’s easier to blame the closest one than to admit you got outplayed. Silence fell, full of second-guesses and afterthoughts. Spacelunch reached into his coat and tossed a credit chip onto the pile of chips. — Let me know if anything new comes up. — Don’t worry. The Hum hears everything. Keep my channel open.

The landscapes of Orlan 19 resembled the dream of a mad cartographer: cliffs were floating above the surface, horizons were bending and vanishing into infinity, and energy vortices were flaring up beneath their feet in psychedelic patterns. The familiar laws of physics didn’t apply here — gravity shifted chaotically, and time flew with unpredictable intensity. As Spacelunch, absorbed in thought, stroked the ground which distorted like a mirage under his touch, Cat’s grumbling echoed simultaneously from the past and future: — Doc, don’t you think we’re just walking in circles? — No wonder. That’s how inverse modelling works. Every action we take reshapes the surrounding space. — Can you explain it in simpler terms? There’s only one genius here. — Ever heard of the Philadelphia Experiment? — Of course! You know how much I love sushi rolls! — Well, I set myself up for this predicament… Back in my university days, we experimented with magnetic fields trying to program them by thought. You get where I’m going, don’t you? The planet is reacting to our intentions. So, focus on visualizing the portal. The confusion on Cat’s face gave way to a mask of detachment. Clusters of matter began to tremble pulling the threads of reality to their breaking point before finally forming a vortex. Having devoured as much as it could, the vortex snapped shut with a loud pop and dissolved in a blinding flash. As the scene began to take shape, silhouettes emerged under the soft glow of a desk lamp, evoking an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. A worn desk and a small bed stood by the wall adorned with faded photographs, while the floor let out a gentle creak underfoot. The clearer the interior came to be, the more paralyzing the realization, and the more elusive the explanation for what had happened became. — Holy…! Cat, are we looking at the same thing? — Yeah, but… This can’t be real. Spacelunch slowly approached the window and froze still. A single thought raced through his mind: “The only force strong enough to pull me this far… was love.”

There’s elegance in limitation, and “Mind Over” leans into it. Podime and Vincent Casanova shape a compact space where nothing feels rushed. The drums are warm and grounded, the loop breathes with calm precision. Let it run. @chippychasers @blagojpodime @vincentcasanova

Symbiotical Records presents “Far Away” — a five-track release from French producer Dust Yard, offering a measured and introspective take on deep minimalism. The title track “Far Away” begins the journey with a meditative framework: soft pads, pulsating low-end, and a harmonic drift that feels suspended in time. It evolves at its own pace, drawing the listener into its orbit with quiet certainty and gravitational stillness. “Higher” follows with a warm, fluid groove. The rhythm is steady and subtly accented, allowing analog textures and micro-elements to breathe in unison. There’s spaciousness in the mix, a natural clarity that lets emotional undertones rise organically. Ki.Mi. offers a refined reinterpretation of “Higher”, bringing architectural precision to its warm undercurrent. The remix expands the original’s depth, layering morphing tones and nuanced shifts in momentum. It’s an immersive reconstruction — composed, restrained, quietly dynamic. “Sunrise” brings a change in mood: brighter, more melodic, yet still grounded. The phrasing appears with care, as if tracing the edge of something just beginning. It’s music for transitional hours, not fully awake, not entirely asleep. Closing the EP is Tm Shuffle’s version of “Sunrise”, leaning into dubby resonance and echoic space. Here, elements blur and dissolve, reframing the original into something more expansive. A final exhale that hovers in the air. Dust Yard delivers a focused, emotionally weighted record — subtle in structure, deliberate in motion, and rich in atmosphere. These are pieces that open slowly, revealing their presence in silence as much as in sound. Available now on all platforms for streaming and download. @dustyard @symbiotical-records

Taken aback by what had happened, Cat dragged himself toward the local junk dealers — the kind who bought anything without asking questions. The chances of finding the smart bracelet in piles and piles of used scrap were slim, but it was worth a shot while the trails were still fresh. He took a turn into an alley, came up to the gate, and rang the bell. A small eye-slot opened with a creak, followed by a gravelly voice: — Keep moving. We’re not expecting anyone. — Easy there, friend. I’m an intergalactic investigator on a high-priority case. — Information isn’t free. — Let me in and we’ll talk shop. The bluff worked. The old man grinned and shut the door behind him. Inside, as Cat scanned the shelves suffocated with dust, he leaned in: “My partner is already sweeping the perimeter. You can either tell me what you know or enjoy a formal interrogation downtown.” A brief exchange revealed a list of local pickpockets, with names and addresses. The info came at a cost: one crisp hundred. Ahead lay a sleepless night and a long walk through the stink of the backstreets.

There’s a quiet confidence to Apolinic’s “Sense Of” – the kind that doesn’t raise its voice, yet draws you closer with every bar. Built on a steady pulse and subtle tension, it unfolds with intention: clean percussion, glowing textures, and just enough modulation to keep the air slightly electric. Time feels gently stretched – suspended between thought and instinct. This is minimalism with restraint, balance, and a quiet sense of motion beneath the surface. A fitting start for Saraw’s debut vinyl – refined, focused, and unmistakably human. @sarawrecords

A sharp slice of minimal with something off-kilter — Scatter Z walks a fine line between hypnotic groove and quiet paranoia. Tension hums beneath the surface. Out now on Saraw, from Root – Uncharted Territories. @sarawrecords @root-cesar

The whole place was bursting with energy. Once-shy kids swarmed the rides, and fans of Asian cuisine kept seizing the food stalls. It seemed like there wasn’t a single hungry or unhappy soul left in the area. Even an old one-legged hurdy-gurdy player was enjoying unprecedented popularity. — This game taught me how to shoot. Plasma blaster range, what a nostalgia! — I’m more into barrel pickles and sausages with lager. Stuffed to the brim, Cat made a wild attempt at Celtic dancing, moving so clumsy that he kept bumping into everyone in sight. The booze and the atmosphere of reckless joy were getting the better of him. — You’re seriously loaded, Fluffball. Try not to fall over. — Let’s fire up a portal flash just for fun! I just need to activate it and… oh no! I think I lost it. — Lost what? — My smart bracelet… — I’m constantly amazed by how hopeless my partner is! With a frustrated wave of a hand, Spacelunch stormed off. His silhouette vanished into the crowd just as quietly as the key accessory, that custom-made piece of tech, had gone missing. The professor was baffled by this unpleasant turn of events, a fresh wave of unease settling over him.

The whole place was bursting with energy. Once-shy kids swarmed the rides, and fans of Asian cuisine kept seizing the food stalls. It seemed like there wasn’t a single hungry or unhappy soul left in the area. Even an old one-legged hurdy-gurdy player was enjoying unprecedented popularity. — This game taught me how to shoot. Plasma blaster range, what a nostalgia! — I’m more into barrel pickles and sausages with lager. Stuffed to the brim, Cat made a wild attempt at Celtic dancing, moving so clumsy that he kept bumping into everyone in sight. The booze and the atmosphere of reckless joy were getting the better of him. — You’re seriously loaded, Fluffball. Try not to fall over. — Let’s fire up a portal flash just for fun! I just need to activate it and… oh no! I think I lost it. — Lost what? — My smart bracelet… — I’m constantly amazed by how hopeless my partner is! With a frustrated wave of a hand, Spacelunch stormed off. His silhouette vanished into the crowd just as quietly as the key accessory, that custom-made piece of tech, had gone missing. The professor was baffled by this unpleasant turn of events, a fresh wave of unease settling over him.

The whole place was bursting with energy. Once-shy kids swarmed the rides, and fans of Asian cuisine kept seizing the food stalls. It seemed like there wasn’t a single hungry or unhappy soul left in the area. Even an old one-legged hurdy-gurdy player was enjoying unprecedented popularity. — This game taught me how to shoot. Plasma blaster range, what a nostalgia! — I’m more into barrel pickles and sausages with lager. Stuffed to the brim, Cat made a wild attempt at Celtic dancing, moving so clumsy that he kept bumping into everyone in sight. The booze and the atmosphere of reckless joy were getting the better of him. — You’re seriously loaded, Fluffball. Try not to fall over. — Let’s fire up a portal flash just for fun! I just need to activate it and… oh no! I think I lost it. — Lost what? — My smart bracelet… — I’m constantly amazed by how hopeless my partner is! With a frustrated wave of a hand, Spacelunch stormed off. His silhouette vanished into the crowd just as quietly as the key accessory, that custom-made piece of tech, had gone missing. The professor was baffled by this unpleasant turn of events, a fresh wave of unease settling over him.

Solid and groovy — Ibagan strikes a balance between rhythmic weight and melodic flow. Smooth synth lines glide over a tight, punchy foundation, with subtle vocal chops adding just the right touch. A strong and refined work from Carloscres. @carloscres @denied-music

It is nearly impossible to get invited into the lodge of the Castafarian Keepers. Only the members of privileged orders or fearless warriors may find their names amongst the honored guests. However, there are rare purification sessions that summon musical healers — their role is to prepare the sensory environment for meditative practice. It all begins with gentle swaying, as the local elders begin the process of mana restoration. The enchanting ritual continues until the rhythmic vortexes subside. This time, Ioann Texture has been requested to guide the ceremony. Behind closed doors, the chosen are gathering to taste the brew made from ancient ingredients, share experiences of telepathic communion, and call upon the Great Mind to protect their lands. @xlqupnazqd01

— Doc, why the long face? It’s Earth Day today, you know. Things are about to get wild! — Sorry, what? — I said let’s grab a beer and some local snacks. It’s time to shake off the gloom. — Ah, yes, of course! Not a bad idea, Cat. A grand celebration was underway — to commemorate the first settlers who arrived here from the third planet from the Sun. Any moment now, the streets would flood with crowds in carnival costumes, vendors would open their stalls, and local pickpockets would start hunting for easy prey. The colourful mass would take on a life of its own until the festivities died down. — Hey, Mel, get ready! — I’ll pass. I don’t feel like drawing too much attention to myself. I’d rather stay home and read that new review of Gardner’s legendary reissue. — Suit yourself, buddy. And thanks again for organising the meetup! After a few firm handshakes, they were swallowed by the lights, the noise, and a blend of aromas that triggered a gentle euphoria. The crowd slowly drifted toward the central square, where you could find just about anything your heart desired. That evening, the professor and Cat were in for a wild ride.

— Doc, why the long face? It’s Earth Day today, you know. Things are about to get wild! — Sorry, what? — I said let’s grab a beer and some local snacks. It’s time to shake off the gloom. — Ah, yes, of course! Not a bad idea, Cat. A grand celebration was underway — to commemorate the first settlers who arrived here from the third planet from the Sun. Any moment now, the streets would flood with crowds in carnival costumes, vendors would open their stalls, and local pickpockets would start hunting for easy prey. The colourful mass would take on a life of its own until the festivities died down. — Hey, Mel, get ready! — I’ll pass. I don’t feel like drawing too much attention to myself. I’d rather stay home and read that new review of Gardner’s legendary reissue. — Suit yourself, buddy. And thanks again for organising the meetup! After a few firm handshakes, they were swallowed by the lights, the noise, and a blend of aromas that triggered a gentle euphoria. The crowd slowly drifted toward the central square, where you could find just about anything your heart desired. That evening, the professor and Cat were in for a wild ride.

— Doc, why the long face? It’s Earth Day today, you know. Things are about to get wild! — Sorry, what? — I said let’s grab a beer and some local snacks. It’s time to shake off the gloom. — Ah, yes, of course! Not a bad idea, Cat. A grand celebration was underway — to commemorate the first settlers who arrived here from the third planet from the Sun. Any moment now, the streets would flood with crowds in carnival costumes, vendors would open their stalls, and local pickpockets would start hunting for easy prey. The colourful mass would take on a life of its own until the festivities died down. — Hey, Mel, get ready! — I’ll pass. I don’t feel like drawing too much attention to myself. I’d rather stay home and read that new review of Gardner’s legendary reissue. — Suit yourself, buddy. And thanks again for organising the meetup! After a few firm handshakes, they were swallowed by the lights, the noise, and a blend of aromas that triggered a gentle euphoria. The crowd slowly drifted toward the central square, where you could find just about anything your heart desired. That evening, the professor and Cat were in for a wild ride.

— Doc, why the long face? It’s Earth Day today, you know. Things are about to get wild! — Sorry, what? — I said let’s grab a beer and some local snacks. It’s time to shake off the gloom. — Ah, yes, of course! Not a bad idea, Cat. A grand celebration was underway — to commemorate the first settlers who arrived here from the third planet from the Sun. Any moment now, the streets would flood with crowds in carnival costumes, vendors would open their stalls, and local pickpockets would start hunting for easy prey. The colourful mass would take on a life of its own until the festivities died down. — Hey, Mel, get ready! — I’ll pass. I don’t feel like drawing too much attention to myself. I’d rather stay home and read that new review of Gardner’s legendary reissue. — Suit yourself, buddy. And thanks again for organising the meetup! After a few firm handshakes, they were swallowed by the lights, the noise, and a blend of aromas that triggered a gentle euphoria. The crowd slowly drifted toward the central square, where you could find just about anything your heart desired. That evening, the professor and Cat were in for a wild ride.

— Doc, why the long face? It’s Earth Day today, you know. Things are about to get wild! — Sorry, what? — I said let’s grab a beer and some local snacks. It’s time to shake off the gloom. — Ah, yes, of course! Not a bad idea, Cat. A grand celebration was underway — to commemorate the first settlers who arrived here from the third planet from the Sun. Any moment now, the streets would flood with crowds in carnival costumes, vendors would open their stalls, and local pickpockets would start hunting for easy prey. The colourful mass would take on a life of its own until the festivities died down. — Hey, Mel, get ready! — I’ll pass. I don’t feel like drawing too much attention to myself. I’d rather stay home and read that new review of Gardner’s legendary reissue. — Suit yourself, buddy. And thanks again for organising the meetup! After a few firm handshakes, they were swallowed by the lights, the noise, and a blend of aromas that triggered a gentle euphoria. The crowd slowly drifted toward the central square, where you could find just about anything your heart desired. That evening, the professor and Cat were in for a wild ride.

Heads down, groove locked. Matpri’s Onnezvonit is a sleek minimal-tech house tool with that undeniable floor appeal. Snappy drums, rolling bass, and just enough funk to keep the room in motion. Peak-time ready. Loop it and let it ride. @pirka-avh @prosaic_music

The return from Proxima Centauri b has brought unexpected but pleasant news, so tonight a cosy apartment in the heart of Chinatown is hosting guests. Their conversation is flowing between deductive battles, humour, and music. With so much happening around them, such a friendly gathering is the best remedy for stress. — So great to see you all! Make yourselves at home while I am grabbing some drinks and putting on a record. — Cat and I are completely exhausted. Thanks for the invitation, Mel! And could you grab a couple of ice cubes too? — As soon as I heard that our comrade had reappeared, I knew we had to discuss the news face-to-face. The laboratory, now reduced to splinters, left more questions than answers. Was Graves nearby at the moment of the explosion? Had he known about their impending visit? One way or another, his obsession with obtaining the dodecahedron and his recklessness could become a serious problem for the professor. — I’m sure the trap for Nomad was a tactical move meant to force you to go all in, Doc. — I know, Cat. But I still can’t figure out who gave the order for the ambush. What if it was a setup? Spacelunch tried to push away the thoughts of betrayal, but sometimes they echoed louder than reason. The fear of losing friends had taken root somewhere in his childhood, and now the doubt was beginning to sprout from those seeds.

The return from Proxima Centauri b has brought unexpected but pleasant news, so tonight a cosy apartment in the heart of Chinatown is hosting guests. Their conversation is flowing between deductive battles, humour, and music. With so much happening around them, such a friendly gathering is the best remedy for stress. — So great to see you all! Make yourselves at home while I am grabbing some drinks and putting on a record. — Cat and I are completely exhausted. Thanks for the invitation, Mel! And could you grab a couple of ice cubes too? — As soon as I heard that our comrade had reappeared, I knew we had to discuss the news face-to-face. The laboratory, now reduced to splinters, left more questions than answers. Was Graves nearby at the moment of the explosion? Had he known about their impending visit? One way or another, his obsession with obtaining the dodecahedron and his recklessness could become a serious problem for the professor. — I’m sure the trap for Nomad was a tactical move meant to force you to go all in, Doc. — I know, Cat. But I still can’t figure out who gave the order for the ambush. What if it was a setup? Spacelunch tried to push away the thoughts of betrayal, but sometimes they echoed louder than reason. The fear of losing friends had taken root somewhere in his childhood, and now the doubt was beginning to sprout from those seeds.

The return from Proxima Centauri b has brought unexpected but pleasant news, so tonight a cosy apartment in the heart of Chinatown is hosting guests. Their conversation is flowing between deductive battles, humour, and music. With so much happening around them, such a friendly gathering is the best remedy for stress. — So great to see you all! Make yourselves at home while I am grabbing some drinks and putting on a record. — Cat and I are completely exhausted. Thanks for the invitation, Mel! And could you grab a couple of ice cubes too? — As soon as I heard that our comrade had reappeared, I knew we had to discuss the news face-to-face. The laboratory, now reduced to splinters, left more questions than answers. Was Graves nearby at the moment of the explosion? Had he known about their impending visit? One way or another, his obsession with obtaining the dodecahedron and his recklessness could become a serious problem for the professor. — I’m sure the trap for Nomad was a tactical move meant to force you to go all in, Doc. — I know, Cat. But I still can’t figure out who gave the order for the ambush. What if it was a setup? Spacelunch tried to push away the thoughts of betrayal, but sometimes they echoed louder than reason. The fear of losing friends had taken root somewhere in his childhood, and now the doubt was beginning to sprout from those seeds.

The return from Proxima Centauri b has brought unexpected but pleasant news, so tonight a cosy apartment in the heart of Chinatown is hosting guests. Their conversation is flowing between deductive battles, humour, and music. With so much happening around them, such a friendly gathering is the best remedy for stress. — So great to see you all! Make yourselves at home while I am grabbing some drinks and putting on a record. — Cat and I are completely exhausted. Thanks for the invitation, Mel! And could you grab a couple of ice cubes too? — As soon as I heard that our comrade had reappeared, I knew we had to discuss the news face-to-face. The laboratory, now reduced to splinters, left more questions than answers. Was Graves nearby at the moment of the explosion? Had he known about their impending visit? One way or another, his obsession with obtaining the dodecahedron and his recklessness could become a serious problem for the professor. — I’m sure the trap for Nomad was a tactical move meant to force you to go all in, Doc. — I know, Cat. But I still can’t figure out who gave the order for the ambush. What if it was a setup? Spacelunch tried to push away the thoughts of betrayal, but sometimes they echoed louder than reason. The fear of losing friends had taken root somewhere in his childhood, and now the doubt was beginning to sprout from those seeds.

The return from Proxima Centauri b has brought unexpected but pleasant news, so tonight a cosy apartment in the heart of Chinatown is hosting guests. Their conversation is flowing between deductive battles, humour, and music. With so much happening around them, such a friendly gathering is the best remedy for stress. — So great to see you all! Make yourselves at home while I am grabbing some drinks and putting on a record. — Cat and I are completely exhausted. Thanks for the invitation, Mel! And could you grab a couple of ice cubes too? — As soon as I heard that our comrade had reappeared, I knew we had to discuss the news face-to-face. The laboratory, now reduced to splinters, left more questions than answers. Was Graves nearby at the moment of the explosion? Had he known about their impending visit? One way or another, his obsession with obtaining the dodecahedron and his recklessness could become a serious problem for the professor. — I’m sure the trap for Nomad was a tactical move meant to force you to go all in, Doc. — I know, Cat. But I still can’t figure out who gave the order for the ambush. What if it was a setup? Spacelunch tried to push away the thoughts of betrayal, but sometimes they echoed louder than reason. The fear of losing friends had taken root somewhere in his childhood, and now the doubt was beginning to sprout from those seeds.

A subtle and introspective deep house cut from Domolazov, built on restrained groove and emotional undercurrents. “Whisper” moves with patience — steady, elegant, and wrapped in a slightly tense, serious atmosphere. @taktrec @domolazov-music

The Mercurian Crater Festival rarely opens its doors. While primarily designed for wholesale traders from across the galaxies, guests from all walks of life are welcome to join the experience. Installations, auctions, food courts, and an endless array of goods for every taste make this event a spectacle of creativity. One pavilion, in particular, is drawing a growing crowd. And for good reason — this is the place to let loose. The immersive sound is intoxicatingly good, thanks to a true master in the lineup. Somewhere in the crowd, a high-ranking official from an Aerospace Corporation flashes by, a local dealer darts past, and a scholar observes the scene alongside a talking cat. In this eclectic mix, the right connections often form in the most unexpected ways — even rival factions sometimes find common ground. Despite its scale, the festival has never received official status, a testament to its rather… unconventional organizers, who prefer to stay out of the spotlight. But then again, no one really needs an announcement to know what goes on under the banner of such a grand event. Welcome to the chaos! @spa2k

The rumbles, swallowed by pitch darkness, resembled a palisade of death rather than a place suitable for the council of elders. Giant thorns gripped the ground with their roots, intertwining as a twisted maze. The creaky funicular barely illuminated the ominous ravine while bringing Cat and Spacelunch down. — I wonder if they’re even expecting us. — It's been a while since I traveled on a rattletrap like this. I think just making it to the end of the route in one piece will be an achievement. — Creepy sight… — Don’t lose your nerve, we’ll be there soon. Why’s your tail tucked? The cable car stopped before the gate leading to the secret gathering. The wasteland covered in fallen timber served as a reliable disguise for the Castafarian Keepers. The professor knocked in a code, and soon a robed figure emerged silently beckoning them into the tunnel. At its end, a dimly lit chamber with the monks sitting in a circle appeared. A few moments later, a voice addressed the leader: — I kneel before your resilience, O Wisest! We have come up to you with an important matter and wish to ask about… — My respect goes to you, brave wanderers. I know whom you seek. A figure in a cloak emerged from the shadows and came forward unhurriedly before revealing his face. — Nomad, you’re alive! What the hell is going on? — I understand your frustration. Under the Queen’s orders, it was necessary to hide your friend. He must remain here for a while. — On behalf of the entire scientific community, I thank you for saving his life. Please accept this as a token of gratitude, O Wisest. The aerospace corporation had always preferred serving revenge cold — as it should be. Blackmail was particularly sweet. After all, it’s easy to break anyone when their loved ones are held hostage. But despite the glaringly obvious strategy, one pressing question remained: Who’s next?

The rumbles, swallowed by pitch darkness, resembled a palisade of death rather than a place suitable for the council of elders. Giant thorns gripped the ground with their roots, intertwining as a twisted maze. The creaky funicular barely illuminated the ominous ravine while bringing Cat and Spacelunch down. — I wonder if they’re even expecting us. — It's been a while since I traveled on a rattletrap like this. I think just making it to the end of the route in one piece will be an achievement. — Creepy sight… — Don’t lose your nerve, we’ll be there soon. Why’s your tail tucked? The cable car stopped before the gate leading to the secret gathering. The wasteland covered in fallen timber served as a reliable disguise for the Castafarian Keepers. The professor knocked in a code, and soon a robed figure emerged silently beckoning them into the tunnel. At its end, a dimly lit chamber with the monks sitting in a circle appeared. A few moments later, a voice addressed the leader: — I kneel before your resilience, O Wisest! We have come up to you with an important matter and wish to ask about… — My respect goes to you, brave wanderers. I know whom you seek. A figure in a cloak emerged from the shadows and came forward unhurriedly before revealing his face. — Nomad, you’re alive! What the hell is going on? — I understand your frustration. Under the Queen’s orders, it was necessary to hide your friend. He must remain here for a while. — On behalf of the entire scientific community, I thank you for saving his life. Please accept this as a token of gratitude, O Wisest. The aerospace corporation had always preferred serving revenge cold — as it should be. Blackmail was particularly sweet. After all, it’s easy to break anyone when their loved ones are held hostage. But despite the glaringly obvious strategy, one pressing question remained: Who’s next?

The rumbles, swallowed by pitch darkness, resembled a palisade of death rather than a place suitable for the council of elders. Giant thorns gripped the ground with their roots, intertwining as a twisted maze. The creaky funicular barely illuminated the ominous ravine while bringing Cat and Spacelunch down. — I wonder if they’re even expecting us. — It's been a while since I traveled on a rattletrap like this. I think just making it to the end of the route in one piece will be an achievement. — Creepy sight… — Don’t lose your nerve, we’ll be there soon. Why’s your tail tucked? The cable car stopped before the gate leading to the secret gathering. The wasteland covered in fallen timber served as a reliable disguise for the Castafarian Keepers. The professor knocked in a code, and soon a robed figure emerged silently beckoning them into the tunnel. At its end, a dimly lit chamber with the monks sitting in a circle appeared. A few moments later, a voice addressed the leader: — I kneel before your resilience, O Wisest! We have come up to you with an important matter and wish to ask about… — My respect goes to you, brave wanderers. I know whom you seek. A figure in a cloak emerged from the shadows and came forward unhurriedly before revealing his face. — Nomad, you’re alive! What the hell is going on? — I understand your frustration. Under the Queen’s orders, it was necessary to hide your friend. He must remain here for a while. — On behalf of the entire scientific community, I thank you for saving his life. Please accept this as a token of gratitude, O Wisest. The aerospace corporation had always preferred serving revenge cold — as it should be. Blackmail was particularly sweet. After all, it’s easy to break anyone when their loved ones are held hostage. But despite the glaringly obvious strategy, one pressing question remained: Who’s next?

The rumbles, swallowed by pitch darkness, resembled a palisade of death rather than a place suitable for the council of elders. Giant thorns gripped the ground with their roots, intertwining as a twisted maze. The creaky funicular barely illuminated the ominous ravine while bringing Cat and Spacelunch down. — I wonder if they’re even expecting us. — It's been a while since I traveled on a rattletrap like this. I think just making it to the end of the route in one piece will be an achievement. — Creepy sight… — Don’t lose your nerve, we’ll be there soon. Why’s your tail tucked? The cable car stopped before the gate leading to the secret gathering. The wasteland covered in fallen timber served as a reliable disguise for the Castafarian Keepers. The professor knocked in a code, and soon a robed figure emerged silently beckoning them into the tunnel. At its end, a dimly lit chamber with the monks sitting in a circle appeared. A few moments later, a voice addressed the leader: — I kneel before your resilience, O Wisest! We have come up to you with an important matter and wish to ask about… — My respect goes to you, brave wanderers. I know whom you seek. A figure in a cloak emerged from the shadows and came forward unhurriedly before revealing his face. — Nomad, you’re alive! What the hell is going on? — I understand your frustration. Under the Queen’s orders, it was necessary to hide your friend. He must remain here for a while. — On behalf of the entire scientific community, I thank you for saving his life. Please accept this as a token of gratitude, O Wisest. The aerospace corporation had always preferred serving revenge cold — as it should be. Blackmail was particularly sweet. After all, it’s easy to break anyone when their loved ones are held hostage. But despite the glaringly obvious strategy, one pressing question remained: Who’s next?

The rumbles, swallowed by pitch darkness, resembled a palisade of death rather than a place suitable for the council of elders. Giant thorns gripped the ground with their roots, intertwining as a twisted maze. The creaky funicular barely illuminated the ominous ravine while bringing Cat and Spacelunch down. — I wonder if they’re even expecting us. — It's been a while since I traveled on a rattletrap like this. I think just making it to the end of the route in one piece will be an achievement. — Creepy sight… — Don’t lose your nerve, we’ll be there soon. Why’s your tail tucked? The cable car stopped before the gate leading to the secret gathering. The wasteland covered in fallen timber served as a reliable disguise for the Castafarian Keepers. The professor knocked in a code, and soon a robed figure emerged silently beckoning them into the tunnel. At its end, a dimly lit chamber with the monks sitting in a circle appeared. A few moments later, a voice addressed the leader: — I kneel before your resilience, O Wisest! We have come up to you with an important matter and wish to ask about… — My respect goes to you, brave wanderers. I know whom you seek. A figure in a cloak emerged from the shadows and came forward unhurriedly before revealing his face. — Nomad, you’re alive! What the hell is going on? — I understand your frustration. Under the Queen’s orders, it was necessary to hide your friend. He must remain here for a while. — On behalf of the entire scientific community, I thank you for saving his life. Please accept this as a token of gratitude, O Wisest. The aerospace corporation had always preferred serving revenge cold — as it should be. Blackmail was particularly sweet. After all, it’s easy to break anyone when their loved ones are held hostage. But despite the glaringly obvious strategy, one pressing question remained: Who’s next?

It was hard to imagine that Proxima Centauri B, a planet with a high civilization index, would one day become a savage mining colony. The once-thriving clan of Castafarian Keepers had been torn apart by internal strife. The names of influential leaders were erased from history in a series of purges, while the more compliant ones sided with the darkness. Yet, scattered across the boundless landscapes, there were still those who remained true to the ancient traditions. — Are we sure this Kujo guy got it right? First the portal, then the memory module, and now the trip to here. This is madness, Doc! — Sometimes, even I forget what I am truly after. Let’s just enjoy the view for now. We’ll find out everything soon enough. A glimmer of teleportation shimmered in the twilight. Queen of the Smorings was never late. Approaching Spacelunch and Cat, she nodded warmly: “So, how do you like it here?” The conversation flowed as naturally as if no time had passed since their last meeting. It was now clear that the disappearance of Nomad had been an omen of what was to come. The guidance of the warrior queen sounded definite and convincing. Once she was done, a burlap pouch containing an unknown mixture appeared in her hand as if conjured out of thin air. “Take this. It will help in your upcoming encounter. May the force of the elements be with you.” With the sun slipping below the horizon, the gathering of the elders was about to begin. There wasn’t a second to lose.

It was hard to imagine that Proxima Centauri B, a planet with a high civilization index, would one day become a savage mining colony. The once-thriving clan of Castafarian Keepers had been torn apart by internal strife. The names of influential leaders were erased from history in a series of purges, while the more compliant ones sided with the darkness. Yet, scattered across the boundless landscapes, there were still those who remained true to the ancient traditions. — Are we sure this Kujo guy got it right? First the portal, then the memory module, and now the trip to here. This is madness, Doc! — Sometimes, even I forget what I am truly after. Let’s just enjoy the view for now. We’ll find out everything soon enough. A glimmer of teleportation shimmered in the twilight. Queen of the Smorings was never late. Approaching Spacelunch and Cat, she nodded warmly: “So, how do you like it here?” The conversation flowed as naturally as if no time had passed since their last meeting. It was now clear that the disappearance of Nomad had been an omen of what was to come. The guidance of the warrior queen sounded definite and convincing. Once she was done, a burlap pouch containing an unknown mixture appeared in her hand as if conjured out of thin air. “Take this. It will help in your upcoming encounter. May the force of the elements be with you.” With the sun slipping below the horizon, the gathering of the elders was about to begin. There wasn’t a second to lose.