We are proud to present our second vinyl release, an incredible EP created by Dani Labb, label manager and one of the driving forces behind Pryma.
A producer from another planet, known for creating unique and timeless music that blurs any genre.
On this EP, Dani Labb shows us his creativity through four captivating compositions that fuse different styles.
His ability to interpret and speak the language of music sets him apart as a true sonic explorer.
We hope you enjoy it.

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The thinking person’s tekkers. Release your release.

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Repress!

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Running some cranky, tempestuous currents on the latest, courtesy of Berlin’s Okain.

A quartet of the meanest cuts to grace the label for a minute as he pulls no punches on propulsion. Hurtling through the temporal plane at break-neck speed.

Proper strapping accelerators rooted somewhere between third portal freak-out and girder-strength tech house flex. All four built like a brick shithouse, but the foundations have given out and we’re falling down a wormhole. Transcending epochs and realities with one foot in the free party and another in the big room.

Organ synth, searing 303 and lysergic flourish in abundance. Synths darting, drums impeccable.

Trippier than we’ve come to expect from the Talman Records founder, but no diminishing returns on dancefloor potency.

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We travel back to the early days of proper Tech House during 2003. Picture the scene, in Online Studios, Croydon, London UK and Evasive label boss teams up with his friend Simon Copleston (Iteration X).

Following on from the success of Timecheck by Iteration X, Rob & Simon create this new collaboration to fuse their distinctive production sounds together as one unit under a new moniker 'Rob & Si'. They delivered their first record together with Roll One Up / Zebras which became the 9thEP in the Evasive Records story.

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REPRESS!! 3LP+7"
You like African disco/boogie? Then this comp. is for you.. No need to drop crazy amounts of cash on the originals. This one holds winners only!



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With Augustus Williams Metroplex welcomes one of Detroit's new generation of electro and techno explorers to the label. His debut titled ,,Increaser EP" offers four tracks of celestial funk deeply indebted to the classic sound of Metroplex. The EP starts off with ,,The Hook-Up", a bouncy yet minimal electro permutation built around a propulsive Bassline and a percolating synth arpeggio. On the other three tracks Williams flexes his techno muscle and shows his keen sense for deep and focused techno-soul with a futurist edge that has any dance floor heaving with energy. - most notably in the noisy abstractions of ,,Submission".

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Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

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Repress!
The boys from Munich are back on RNT with a 4-tracker of serious flavor! 'Express Lane' launches the 12” on the disco highway for a wild ride of cheeky vocals, horn stabs, and vocoded synths, then veers south for some North-African New Wave with 'Libyan Sun'. The B side kicks off with the Afro-disco monster 'Don’t Oho', already a staple in RNT sets and then finishes with the minimalist electro-soul bounce of 'Emergency Loop'. Sure-shots, the lot of 'em!


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