Back catalogue: Techno (All)

Review: ***B-STOCK: Sleeve damaged and dirt on sleeve but otherwise in excellent condition***


Next up on Outer Place Records is the fifth installment coming from the vault of Meister Bert Ashra, a veteran from Berlin's '90s underground scene who is still active in the city today. His solo project B. Ashra has existed since 1993 as a live act, DJ, composer, sound designer and mastering engineer. He's been known to delve into ambient, experimental, soundscapes, trance and techno, as well as deep house and electronic jazz. Much of the aforementioned is explored on the Eyes In The Sky EP: from the deep 303 swing of 'Space Rock', the chill downtempo electronica of 'Give Me Contact', to the heady acid house of 'The End Of Rain' and the hypnotic techno of 'Sputnik'.

Review: When this superb double-pack was first released in 1996, Bandulu had already spent four years finely tuning their trademark sound - decidedly spacey and subtly percussive take on techno that offered nods aplenty to Motor City minimalism and the dub-fired end of the Berlin techno spectrum. As a result, the eight-track set became the North London trio's standout release - an album in all but name that remains the purest and most finely crafted expression of their distinctive take on techno. Now reissued on vinyl for the first time since (and in remastered form to boot), its many highlights including the pounding deep space techno of 'Serial Operations', the dub techno masterclass 'Episode 7', the Regis-esque hedonism of 'Paranormal Channels' and the restless, delay-laden riffs of 'Advirus'.

Review: Pierre Bastien has a strong team record of interesting collaborations. He's done stuff with fashion designer and scent mogul Issey Miyake, legendary singer and composer Robert Wyatt, and the enigmatic electronic producer and reality-shifter Aphex Twin, releasing no less than three full length records on the latter's landmark label, Rephlex. "A mad musical scientist", the Guardian once quipped, and C(or)N(e)T doesn't break from that tradition. Instead, it offers some of the most abstract and strange, beguiling and fascinating sounds we've heard in a while. At least a few of which have been made on self-made, bespoke pieces of equipment. At a push, you might label this jazz, for the simple fact it's so free-form and avant-garde. Realistically, though, it sounds like the noises that might happen if someone attempted to tame a pack of rogue electronic hubbub-chatting things in a vaguely structured way. "Thank fuck for Pierre Bastien", the Quietus once said. We happily concur.

Review: Ever-interested in pushing boundaries through sound and ideas, Bjarki returns to the full-length release schedule with another captivating adventure down electronic roads less travelled. More IDM than techno, tracks like 'Puppet Parade' perhaps hit the nail most squarely in terms of descriptions here - warm pads and metronomic accents in the foreground, strange, treacle-y alien noises in the background. Weird and always wonderful, one of the most impressive achievements here is the deft ability to create soundscapes that simultaneously welcome us with open arms and defy expectation and norms. Whether it's the 170 snares and lush tranquility of 'Healing From Memory', or the strangely rousing but thoroughly off-planet 'Void Visitor' to close.

Review: Experimental electronic triad The Black Dog see their 2009 CD album remastered and reissued, a missive from a time when the band were particularly concerned with the encroachment of surveillance capital and Orwellian practices carried out by institutions, governments and corporations. Tackling the cynical ironies of weaponised phraseologies such as "for your own safety", and their use by firms whom almost certainly do not have our best interests at heart, the mood of this techno tucker is indeed certainly, if not paranoid, vexed. Emblematic of this are humanity reductions such as 'You're Only SQL', on which gurgly basses churn, and 'CCTV Nation', which bridges Dispatches-style documentary melodies and jittery acid house.

Review: Boys Noize has been tearing up dance floors and serving up arresting electronic assaults for ages, often on his own self-titled label. He branches out here though with a new one, Ones & Zeros, which he has said is a "concept label reflecting new modes of creative and subcultural circulation". it launches with a bumper compilation featuring 22 blistering sounds across six sides of wax. Two of them come from the bas himself, one is a collar with Locked Club, and elsewhere new school and more established names like Skee Mask, Safety Trance and Manni Dee all offer up the sort of high impact tracks that will always be useful to have at your disposal for when the rave really is ready to peak.

Review: Ben Lukas Boysen's Alta Ripa marks a transformative milestone in his artistic evolution as he blends introspection with bold experimentation. Rooted in the serene landscapes of rural Germany where his creativity first blossomed, the album also reflects the dynamic energy of Berlin, which reshaped his sound in the early 2000s. Boysen's fourth studio album bridges past and future, merging the reflective melodies of his youth with the innovative tones of Berlin's electronic scene. He describes it as music his 15-year-old self would admire but only his grown-up self could create. Unbound by tradition, Boysen's eclectic influences drive his constant musical reinvention.

Review: Breaka returns with Aeoui, a highly anticipated second album that will again establish his reputation as a bass music innovator. Charlie Baker continues to evolve here with his mix of footwork, techno and dancehall influences and jazz drumming background all coming together into fresh club rhythms. The album's unique vibe emerged from a burst of jet-lagged inspiration in late 2023 and led to tracks like 'Squashy Track' and 'YOLO Bass Rewind' which both off-set a mix of organic and synthetic elements, Afro-Cuban rhythms, 'amapiano' and psychedelic influences. Breaka's sound remains unlike anything else.

Review: Born and raised in Bern, Switzerland, Michael Antener spent most of the 1980s concerned with interpreting the subconsciously and overtly apocalyptic discourse of that time through the medium of industrial-edged, dark feeling music. "I found a niche where I could express myself, along with other people who were not afraid of dark themes," he's quoted as saying in retrospect, before going on to explain that singing about love would have been more difficult than using "cries of pain taken from horror movies". This triple vinyl collector's item celebrates that fertile, if angry and dystopian period in Antener's life. Bringing together work from two of his formative projects, The Stranger of the Swamp and Bande Berne Crematoire, what's here is captivating. Electroclash with groove, distressed collages of noise, a certain sense of sonic expressionism - all brooding shadows, menacing arrangements and deeply unsettling moods.