Aquafaba
Plura (2xLP)

Venerated clubland legend Robert Dietz graces Kalahari territory with a clutch of sinister techno-trance variants.The evolution of the Dietz sound continues unabated as he pivots from minimal scene mainstay to purveyor of big techno dramatixxx. Still just as finely-tuned and potent as he’s always been though, and this is no means a drastic departure from more recent work.Running tempestuous heaters from the eye of a storm, there’s a tough, menacing edge coursing throughout. Four decidedly Euro spins offering visions of dystopia and ominous portent, but we forge ahead unperturbed, headfirst into the shadowy void.Gone is the playfulness of releases past, set aside in favour of heat-seeking ballistics. Strapping accelerators big on drama while allowing space for a bit of dancefloor introspection. More of that all thrills, no frills kinda flex as the Frankfurt native goes about his business like it’s effortless.

Big one from Milanese maestro Inner Lakes. Hell-bent on making 2025 his year, the Kalahari debutant maintains form and momentum with the latest in a flurry of vital releases.A meticulously-crafted 4-tracker imbued with menace and urgent, late nite throb, it’s precisely the spiralling, nocturnal kinda style that has become his hallmark. Streetwise, upfront and packing a sizeable amount of f*ck-off NRG.Expect noirish, night-stalking rave suspense and hardware-fuelled, high-velocity torque. Best heard in the company of shadow-dwelling spectres, or perhaps, at the event horizon of a black hole.DJ tools reveal greater depth and nuance upon closer inspection, and disembodied vocals lure inquisitive ears deep into the dream state. Finely measured throughout, it’s a masterful balance between functionality and full-blown dancefloor immersion, all courtesy of a fella at the top of his game.

Latest record off the Kalahari production line comes courtesy of a real one. Klon Dump in the building, moving like a madman across four barrelling tech house scorchers.Part-producer, part-engineer and a long time co-conspirator of A Colourful Storm’s Moopie. Better known to some under the alias Mark, but always surefire for some serious dancefloor potency. Doubters, look no further-this is another demonstration of his mastery.Big with the radiant stabs, even bigger on the earworm groove. Ploughing the furrow of tough, direct but deft as the Klon Dump faithful will have come to expect by now. Proper belters. Always flexing outstanding rhythmic ingenuity, whether it’s hardcore hybridity as Mark or the tech house innovation shown here. If anything in life is certain, it’s that a KD record will lay down some serious torque.There’s also an off-kilter playfulness that kinda feels reminiscent of T+++’s ‘Space Pong’ or Fiedel and Errorsmith’s MMM project. Another ace in the hole from the Antipodean shapeshifter.

With a remix and a compilation cameo already under his belt, Canadian figurehead Priori makes his Kalahari return for the debut proper. 3 squelchy incursions complete with a hefty remix from fellow Oyster Cult acolyte Sansibar.Known for traversing breezy, horizontal zones, the NAFF co-founder sets downbeat and ambient concerns aside for the direct and propulsive. Expect insistent, urgent forays down the wormhole as nocturnal jaunts made of ritual and darkroom throb coalesce with meditative, essential rhythm.This is fractal gear born from the the traditions of European, Japanese and American Mid-West techno; tunnelling and immersive, conjuring moments of ascension for the gathered masses.Finishing on Sansibar’s meaty refit, the one-two punch of seismic kick and dry-as-bone snare propels Priori’s original in a whole new direction. .

Back in 2021, when Volodymyr Gnatenko agreed to work on his debut album, none of us could have predicted it would be released, post-pandemic, against the backdrop of war. At the time, the 23-year-old producer from Lutsk was riding high on a string of well-received 12s for labels such as Where We Met and Animals On Psychedelics, besides local Ukraine labels such as LSS557 and Rhythm Buro. He was, between covid closures, playing live at Kyiv clubs such as Closer and Kureni, looking to tour in Europe, and spending every spare second making music.How things change. When missiles began to rain on Kyiv, Gnatenko, alongside a few friends from Closer, hid in his studio. For a while, the bombings did not stop. But for the producer, neither did the music-making. Choosing to stay in the city, he continues to make beats, managing only to mix down between bombing raids. He changed his first name to match that of his president, ditching the previous spelling of his name because it was the same as the aggressor, “the same as my worst enemy, I am ashamed and disgusted that I started my career with it”.The album speaks of softer, easier times. A combination of rich ambience, and laidback breaks alongside loose progressive and trance-fused dancefloor tracks, this debut brings together all the strands that Gnatenko plays with. The process, he says, was exhausting and long. Yet the results are lighter, fresher. Maybe because, he says, “it is dedicated to my future wife. All the tracks are my words of love for her". Deeply hypnotic and freely moving between ideas, it feels like it was made a lifetime ago, not a matter of months. Now, it resonates with a new defiance. It is a debut with an extra layer of meaning.