Reclaim Your Cities next frequency-jammer comes in the form of a heavyweight split 4-tracker, courtesy of two true techno pioneering figures: Mike Parker and Steve Bicknell. The continued influence of these two artists on both our early raving days and now as a team working on providing you the most exciting, boundary-pushing tech wares is second to none. As you'll experience from the four jams constitutive of this unparalleled mindtrip of an EP, 'In The Years Ahead' is the living evidence the steadfastness of Parker and Bicknell's vision remains absolutely untouched. Zeroed in on taking ravers on an entrancing ride across pulsating corridors of whirring machine funk, sizzling acid and shape-shifting waves of sound, both sides of this EP share the best lot of both producers' uniquely innovative approach to rhythm and production. Parker's opening cut, 'Solar Limb' is a textbook example of his complex, and heavily layered sound-design. An unflinching swing keeping time, brutal kicks punching holes in your head like giant steel hammers, the track may evolve slowly, repeating its post-industrial mantra over and over again, its flame doesn't flicker one iota. Switching onto red-level dance floor menace, 'Badlands' pulls out the heavy artillery: an overkill bombardment of puncturing 909 drums, vortical winds blowing in the back like some solar storm of sorts, and this ebb-and-flow of FX-drenched synth ripples branded on your cortex like odd signs of cult belonging. Bicknell's takeover starts with the rugged and wild 'Chaotic World', whose title is definitely not usurped. Enter a blazing maelstrom of frantic synth assault knocked askew, intense bass tectonic movements and smashing arpeggios on the path of war. The track develops a massive momentum, swelling from primordial raw matter into weirdly arranged modular constructions, like that of Kubrick's monolith emerging with ominous presence. 'In The Years Ahead' serves up a much distinctively elegant, glossy type of textural experience, synths playing pong in a hall of mirrors, interlacing and distorting as the percussive line unfolds its linear train-like groove. It dashes across landscapes of hypermodern glass and concrete with unrelenting horsepower, from techno's early sanctuary right up onto tomorrow's temple of unmapped potentialities. *This much special release, so dear to our heart, comes clad in a beautiful piece of design, and will be pressed to 180g audiophile quality vinyl for an enhanced listening experience. More

Some fresh exciting and adventurous techno on the new Reclaim Your City! The well-known figures of the German and Georgian electronic scenes in the persons of .VRIL and HVL, are on the next installment laying down a quintet of hybrid electro and techno weapons that send us straight back to the heyday of Rephlex and like-minded visionary ventures. All in that stark contrast between ethereal spaciousness and steely, martial rhythms out the industrial spectrum, 'Far Field' takes us on a voyage across the board, from breaks-heavy machine stunts to washed-out tapestries, via EBM-laced detours and junglistic maneuvers. Investigating the nexus zone between dance functionality and limitless escapology, it extrapolates both artists' blends to further immersive, hypnotic effect. Taking over the A side, .VRIL gets the ball rolling with 'Lost Together', which sets the tone on a low-slung, nostalgia-drenched note; combining the syncopated swagger of downtempo techno with ambient-oid stasis and static-filled opacity. Like watching an all-metal sun sinking past the blazing skyline. Revving up the engines, 'Fnord' feat. RAEYN conjures up a way more muscular arsenal of big-room-ready wares, from aggro snare salvos to anthemic synth kinetics, through that replicant-hunting kinda vibe. One to have the Saturn rings go hula hoop, with all woofers and brains in the vicinity melting in XTC. Shutting the A side off, 'We Believe' returns to a lighter, more vaporous mindset but sure implements that signature heavy swing of .VRIL, flush with textured kicks and FX-soaked arps. True monster prog swell. Flip it over and there's HVL dishing out a textbook example of his vortical electronic furls with the title-track, 'Far Field' - an oneiric drift that slowly rises from its heavy-lidded slumber, ascending towards bleepin' n bloopin' experimental effervescence as bars fly by. A number bound to hack your body and mind into two distinct facets, and while one dances its way frantically across the ever buzzing space/time continuum, the other shall reach a state of healing calm and transcending ubiquity. Smoothly shuttling us off to the upper layers of the ionosphere, 'Lancet Mxi' clenches it on a trippy note, taxiing us midway zero-G UK bass territories and eerie ambient abstraction. HVL's total, widescreen vision at its most unhindered, all set at expanding your mind to yet uncharted horizons of sound and closing the gap between two distant, estranged galaxies. A fractured headspace to both dance and dream to. *Dressed in a fine piece of artwork courtesy of Daniel M. Diaz, 'RYCL021' comes pressed on 180g audiophile black vinyl for optimal playing and listening experience. More

Following a first iteration which set the tone for our newly-minted Heimat series in explosive fashion, here comes the much anticipated second batch of our zeitgeistian take on today's scene's, its current potential and destination. Showcasing productions from artists keen to roll up their sleeves and sail into the impassible status quo, this new number packs the kind of red-hot hammering and cutting-edge punch we've been so adamant to push and defend over the past decade. Berlin-based French producer Arkan steps in first with a proper magnetic depth charge. Dwelling the darker layers of our ocean floor as its name suggests, 'Submarine' is pure hypnotic material geared up for heavy-duty boogie in the warehouse. Filling its ballast tanks with a hefty deluge of muscular bass onslaughts, sonar-like bleeps and untamed cascades of loopy arps, this one rolls and pitches like a haunted ship on predator mode. Adding his dynamic pulse and mind-bending spin to the A-side, Frameworks & Untertwegs bossman Decka cuts a path of straight mental obliteration as he smashes the doors of the club wide open and parades all guns blazing with the unapologetic crusher that is 'Circumvent'. A no-holds-barred workout for the strong stomachs, churning out fiery bars of kick-drum/squelchy bass contrast with in-your-face swagger. Switching on to the flip side, there's Manchester's Yant cruising with the ebulliently dynamic (no shit, Sherlock) tune, 'Moving'. A multidirectional concerto of pong-like modularity and racing synth arpeggios flying off like coloured bricks in a Tetris game gone absolute batshit. The kind of hi-intensity burner that'll awaken any lukewarm mid-set flow with its bouncy unpredictability and ruthless forward-pushing thrust. Rounding it off on a further minimal note, Amsterdam up-and-comer Hitam treats us to an inch-perfectly engineered finale with a stripped-back - yet, absolutely not hollow - bomb, 'Venusian Winds'. Gutsy that one sure is, with its metronomic step ticking at near-cyclonic speed and cleverly arranged, subtly FX-coated funk keeping things both suspenseful and focussed thru and thru. A sleek combo of pared-down brutalism and masterly executed analogue tailoring altogether. All dressed in clear purple marbled wax for the occasion, "Heimat II" shall please both the techno purist and visual aesthete in you with its velvet touch and effortless chic. More

Celebrating ten years of uncompromising devotion to techno and its bastard cousins from the fringes, Rotterdam's finest MORD and RYC team up to deliver a special four-vinyl / eight-sided kaleidoscope of a compilation, featuring some of the artists that have helped shape up both labels' identities over the years as they press on in their aim to set their very own techno utopia into stone. - Adriana Lopez, Amotik, Bas Mooy, Brendon Moeller, Dimi Angelis, Inigo Kennedy, Jeroen Search, Kaiser, Norbak, Orphx, Quelza, Rene Wise, Ritzi Lee, Stanislav Tolkachev, The Lady Machine, UVB are all present! Unfolding as a testimony to their unflaggingly resolute vision and aspirations, 'MORD x RYC' operates as an ode to their hometown of Rotterdam - the artwork itself being a direct nod to the city's iconic 'cube houses' from the 1970s, but also to the tentacular connection both MORD and RYC have developed throughout the past decade, bonding organically alongside like-minded artists and hubs from the techno internationals to expand their reach and impact. Local figure Ritzi Lee paves the way with 'Neutropia', a mind-bending, abstract-leaning head charge of frizzling electronics mixed with the unrelenting assault of a thousands bisons' pack fracturing their way into your system. Amotik follows up with the paced-up bleepy madness that is 'Laal', a proper deep and raging slice of clinical machine hoodoo, geared up for hi-velocity rumble on the dance floor and a ruthless hi-jack of your brain capacities for the duration of the track. Up with the punishing club destroyer 'Lucidez', Norbak treats us to a maelstrom of choppy hardware currents and head-spinning strong winds criss-crossing a brutalistic mindset. Dimi Angelis 'Optical Prism' is one to play some nasty tricks on the mind and alter your body functions through its evil-minded thunder of processed drum prog, noise-adjacent projections and gusty, Dantesque atmosphere. Breathing in further acid wonkiness in his typically spaced-out composition with 'Illustris', Jeroen Search has us jacking to a weirdo concert of chord dissonance and punchy percs, whereas French exponent UVB lets the hounds of rave loose on the epic-sized 'Mortifere' - a strikingly potent piece of 909-fuelled dementia that unfurls with the fierce soul of a 90s scene warrior, and future-facing bravura of newfangled classics. Taking over on the rough and unfazed 'Vedette', MORD boss Bas Mooy gives his own definition of a quality industrial chugger, club-efficient and trimmed down to its most essential palette. Kaiser goes full-on martial style on 'Disciplined Soldiers', giving us a taste of his ever surgically executed blends, flush with the usual tapestry of lysergic synth swashes and nonstop pounding drums. Canadian duo Orphx step in with the rugged and opaque 'Slipping Through My Fingers' - a much spitting glimpse of the sound they've come to advocate over the years, as raw as it proves oddly sensual, and as hypnotically entrancing as it remains mysterious to the bone. A riotous, pounding danse macabre that oozes tar fumes and heated steel, the Lady Machine's 'Concorde' is no-prisoner techno in its purest essence, tailored to whip up a frenzy in any context, any time of the day. Walking the tightrope between an elevated sense of melodicism and mastered 4x4 uproar, Inigo Kennedy here again exposes the width of his skills when it comes to carving out durably haunting, soulful techno that sure knows how to harness energy and power from the ravers' hearts, whereas Adriana Lopez 'Gradual Illusion' steers us back to a further exhausting state of sublimation, and then utter dissolution. Whiz kid Quelza pulls out a big one with 'La Choregraphie Du Soleil', a much ambitious slab of visionary techno, splattered with the kind of breathtaking arrangements and scope-breadth you'd expect from more seasoned producers. True to his high-flying standards, Ukrainian maestro Stanislav Tolkachev goes full mental style with 'Must Be Loud', a genetically modified treat that'll get your senses in a weird sense of alert, while Rene Wise dishes out a massive burner in 'Smashing Around', as ever laser-precise and textured out to impressive effect. Brooklyn's dub techno legend Brendon Moeller rounds off the package with the obsessively playful 'Hot Pursuit', sure to please all lovers of the US producer's mind-altering modular style and upstream relevancy. More

Fierce techno on this 4 artist release. Locked and loaded, here comes the next salvo in RYC's line of action. Going by the name "Heimat" - the German word for "homeland", this eighteenth number in our catalogue breaks in a new series that will set the focus on exciting new names with a vision. Zeitgeisty by nature, the approach chosen for these VAs is to document state-of-the-art productions from lesser known and emerging figures, whose skills and talent we firmly believe in. An extension of our creed that techno is there to push boundaries and not reiterate the same bland assertions over and over, ad nauseam, "Heimat" shall form a shelter for top-of-the-range material and that exclusively, regardless of the producer's fame, level of fashionability and/or market-friendliness. Summoned on that debut platter are names you may have heard through our channels already, and some you haven't. Drawing first blood, Brazilian talent Marcal gets the wrecking-ball swinging at fierce rate. Engineering an inch-perfect balance between Amazonian suavity and cutting-edge industrialism, the Goiania-based whiz treats us to a mind-altering maelstrom of rainforest techno, leaving no room for improvisation whether on the rhythmic side or in terms of sound design. An absolute crusher. Another Brazilian completes the A-side, in the person of Nicolas Vogler. His track "Lost in Paradiso" is everything a mental techno pumper should be: nose-diving drum assaults, pools of lavish textures to sink your brain within, spiralling synth motifs. Epic, truly. Mysterious on-the-rise producer Hurdslenk takes over the flip with a mammoth of a fast-paced churner, designed at nothing but sweeping legs by the dozen. True to the early 00s hi-NRG strain of techno, Hurdslenk fractures his way into the system with a proper bomb of a tune, hovering the cursor halfway Birmingham-style sonic aggression and made in Rotterdam warehouse-obliteration. Final word goes to mould.audio's Ruben Ganev, an artist who knows all too well how to fly you off to the zone with a mere kick and surgically processed machine hoodoo with a purpose. Laser-precise and full-bodied, "Scattered" is the paragon of a masterful hypnotic ride, steering us smack-dab the middle of a weirdly claustrophobic dream with the right amount of daze-inducing envelopes and fuel-efficient percussive power. "Heimat" comes pressed to a 100% orange transparent vinyl, and clad in a pristine, matt varnished package to please your eyes and ears in equal measure. More

For the next instalment in our split series, we handed the reins over to two producers whose work has kept us continually inspired over the last few years. At the helm of the A-side, Berlin big-room havoc-wreaker AMOTIK puts on the burners right away with two riotous jams that scream nothing but sonic aggression. On the flip, the mysterious, genre-unbound Janice sweeps us into his psychedelic, non-formulaic techno mindset. True to AMOTIK's minutely balanced, well-integrated blends of punishing kick drums and sunken harmonics, metronomic destroyer "Narangi" swings the pendulum sharp and clean, from deep down a thick sludge of reverb-soaked, FX-topped percussive armada to bleeps n' bloops barrage fire, whereas quake-inducing tides of 909 thunder hail down upon the dance floor with unrelenting frenzy. The dusty bone-bruiser "Hara" picks up the torch and it's in no calmer mood. A slowed-down, breaks-loaded churner, this one relies on a fine engineering of lo-freq moves and pure hardware-processed filth to establish a murky motel, cinematic narrative of sorts. Up with the fracturing wares, here's Janice rocking the flip upside down with the aptly-titled "Mass Formation Hypnosis". Doing what's written on the tin, the faceless producer rushes us headfirst into the boiler for a thorough, unfaltering brainwash. Smelling of leather, grease and coal, this one's bristling with a delectably rugged palette of unambiguous electronics: an ultimate shelling of chest-rattling drum work, in-your-face bass uppercuts, trumpeting stabs and menacingly altered vox. The final salvo, "Names and Excuses", tops it all off on an ominously droney tip, flinging us right away into the frothing mouth of a deadly machine giant, hurtling and tumbling down mazy bowels of washed-out ambient techno via rhyzomatic gutters of brooding abstract motifs and no-frills heavyweight pound. Hectic. ''XVII'' comes adorned with a duly outstanding frame to shine, and will be pressed on 180g audiophile quality vinyl. Once again a way for RYC to openly declare its aspirations and goals, in letting people know that quality, passion and love for the music is all that matters. More

Quality techno from this Dutch Techno Don! A stalwart of the Dutch techno scene since the mid nineties, Jeroen Schrijvershof has been ploughing his own furrow aside from the typical norms and standards of the techno scene with lasting integrity and unflinching dedication throughout the years. A coinage derived from the sharp, clinically designed blends he has come to be known for, that Search-sound has long established as a blueprint for DJs seeking laser-guided weaponry into their sets, and Jeroen's maiden effort for RYC follows that very guideline. Starting with the massive pound of the title-track, "Enigma", the EP knocks into your system with blunt force, ushering us into a no-frills corridor of hydraulic kicks and sizzling static. As per usual with Jeroen's compositions, minimalism serves a purpose of exponential effect. True to the fuel-efficient philosophy of the producer, "Modules" harnesses a controlled avalanche of modular signals and no-prisoner, big-room techno dynamics to forge a piece of exquisitely raw rave material that can move blocks of concrete with its nose. Letting the groove a little bit looser, "Object of Ridicule" spins at fierce tempo whilst relying on the same limited palette of chiselled drums and ominous strings to plunge the dance floor into a darker, neo-noir paradox of rhythmic straightforwardness and mystery-shrouded ambiguity. Topping the release off is "Circle Park", a cut that further exposes Jeroen's constant juggling between atmospheric opacity and a surgical, technicist approach towards production. A matter of thoroughly finessed textures and obsession for the faintest detail that shines through "Enigma" with unrelenting ebullience. More than anything the fruit of an endless search for fresh, unheard forms of transcending techno expression. In reflection to the release's outstanding character, we decided to have it pressed to 180g audiophile vinyl so y'all purists can revel in Enigma's heavily detailed sound spectrum. More

Ukrainian don Stanislav Tolkachev resurfaces with his debut solo four-tracker for RYC. Not quite swerving from the sonic pathway his name has become synonymous with over the years, ever so alien and transporting, Tolkachev's latest boasts the very exact qualities that have made his sound stand out from others, earning him a constantly growing crowd of heirs and imitators along the way. Breaking the trip in, 'Up The Steel Stairway' sets the tone for the EP without further ado. Sniping hails of steadily frantic, arpeggiated synth chords and puncturing kick drums that'll have you dancing like one rolls with the punches, Tolkachev sails into the eye of the cyclone all guns blazing. Lacking no pounding heft either, 'The Less You Know' slits a way open into your head through a carefully dissonant symbiosis of corrosive synth lines and octave-shifting bass gone astray. On-the-edge techno at its rowdiest, most mentally challenging. Flip the coin and here comes the deranged, trouble-brewing 'One More To Go'. Cranking the mind-bogglingness a notch further, this one bulldozers its way past all sanity thresholds without blinking. Final number 'The Way To The After' tops it off in more straightforward but equally immersive fashion. Plunging us in a submerged chamber of sorts, where heavily verbed-out synth flexions entangle along tranquilly ascending pads, progressively dissolving in inert pools of FX-charged bleach and slo-dripping dub venom. Pressed on 180 gram audiophile quality vinyl! More

Some proper straight forward techno on Reclaim Your City. Their first 2020 release 'Liquid Shards' - a split 12" epic courtesy of Den Haag's TAPE co-founder Deniro and Brighton's new sensation Rene Wise. No-bullshit techno that moves in between plural states of consciousness, the two producers harness a double pair of laser-accurate rollers that pack some serious punch, trimmed, shaped and polished for optimum impact on the dance floor. Deniro steps up with a duo of streamlined techno bullets that delve smack dab the cream of '90s atmospheric and dubbed-out tech territories. Whilst zoned out opener 'Shards' cracks the mirror into an infinity of glassy textured synth splinters and solar-powered sub-bass moves, sure to lift off any crowd through some intensive, stamina-testing deus-ex-machina, pared-down banger 'Static' lets out the playful bassy bounce and bleep-laden engineering do the talk for a straight out bone-crushing workout that quietly engulfs everything in its wake. Flip it over and here's Rene Wise running the hoodoo down in truly massive 4x4 sensei fashion. Pulling out a nasty cavalcade of intestinally disquieting 909 kicks out the deepest blue, alongside mazy networks of verbed-out drums and heavily altered synthetic samples, 'Liquid Dancer' sets the boiler to eleven from the Baltic to Hawaii, which is no good news say the oceanographers. Bringing up the rear to this quartet of steady shooting havoc wreakers, 'Juggler' is no ancillary DJ tool but a much apt and functional floor squasher in its own right. Just let the pressure rise, people lose their shit a bit and throw these into the melee as a memo of how good techno is when done with such sentient genius. Record comes pressed to a trichromatic marbled vinyl, folded in some neat cover art. More