All those creatures, standing there, making time. Fury eyes, golden dust on artificial fog. Dancing on glass, repetitive poems, looping long after the last loop looped away. Oriental acid, frenzied samples, low hanging film noir suspense. This is DALO. Or not. She is many. Dry maniac downbeat is her craft. Or dark-ish pop-not-pop. There is dub, trance, techno, too. She is known for releases on labels like ESP Institute, WARNING, or Tresor. She is part of bands like Init. She played them all, those clubs, that matter, and those that matter more. Live. Alone. As an artist. With a band. Here she comes with her first album. On the R.i.O. sphere. Her homebase. A trusted zone for experimentation. She brings “Duster”. Seven tunes twisted in different dreams. Fast, slow, veiled, enchanted, haunting trenchant. She sings. These songs. To dance. For a different, stripped-back trance. DALO. Her record longs for a stage. Exporting grace, face to face. A work like a mirror. Hypnotizing. A psychedelic portrait of a performer. Nuanced industrial veils ceremonial journey music. Claps, Jungle. Desolate vocal snippets. A whirlwind of words. All those chords, hanging there, kick drum time. Fury eyes, golden horns amid acid fog. Dancing on glass, cyclic synth-lines. DALO. Duster. A-round-and-a-around. Circulating the ritual. More

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” a sage modernist poet previously whispered. And here we go, far out and yet so near, the third edition of “Risks Issues Opportunities” brings frontier reverberations scratching at the edges of dance, pop, downbeat, and other trance- portive sectors. Eight fast/slow propelling tracks. Adventurous, full of grandeur, gratifying the dance floor while equally winning the relaxation zones. Pure emotions crafted by newcomers. There is Milan’s Tagliabue, trancing slow and insightful. Or Cologne’s Grischerr, eloquently Tolouse-Low-Traxing. Some go down the slow burning road, where rhythms hang low, and suspense is in full show. Like London’s Frank Rodas, Garnu Depot from Iran, or Xei Ju from the islands of Micronesia, striking all ears with ghostly transcendental percussive science. An autumnally global voyage, which likewise offers industrialized districts by Italian producer Federico Cassetta, Metropolis minimal wave pop by Japanese musician Saeko Killy, or odd swamp funk by Chilean/German duo 7697 Miles. They all show, how far you can go, without losing your distinct flow. More

Chansons for the replicates. Hymns for the algorythmed. Operatic minimal wave. Spoken words. Otherworldly electronica. Oh pop, Oh techno. Oh Pose Dia. Now on R.i.O. simulating herself on an album full of weeping synthlines, melding melodies, unreeling theatre between the notes, camouflaging in fashion and rhyme. Impulsive, destructive, yet so perceptive, gently repetitive. “Simulate Yourself” is her second album since “Front View,” released in 2020 on Bureau B.

Now the Hamburg-based filmmaker, DJ and musician Helena Ratka, aka Pose Dia, brings a notion of digital archeology. Nine otherworldly chanting cold blooded Lieder and tracks, manic, longing for the real in the un- real. The matter of her poetic-abstract lyrics is rhizomatic, linking psychological “Suspiria” fantasy with sociology, media theory and all that never obsolete post-structuralism. Hyperreality for the hyped. Fully illusionistic. Wrapped in touching airs, drilling into cold waving Risiko spheres. X-mal rotating towards novel corners, shading light on old ones. Track make-up transforms into lacquered songs. Fog and fire. Night and light. Hairspray and cigarettes. Pose Dia transfers fine-tuned dissatisfaction to all those fully satisfied. Welcome to the other side of the Ocean. More

I was dancing when I was out, I was dancing when I was in. Is it strange to dance so late? Is it strange to dance so soon? Cosmic dancers always ball. Dancing with themselves, dancing space away. Right into the smallest hole a human brain can create: the inner cosmos, a psychedelic region, where time gets space and space turns to haze.

Berlin based producer TM Solver is such a kind of cosmic dancer. He has danced late. And so soon. Since 2008 he released yearly one, sometimes two albums via the German Berlin School dedicated label Syngate and its experimental subdivision Luna. Intensely meandering synthesizer journey music, that is pirouetting on inner universes, genuinely crafted in the tradition of Berlin School and Krautrock. You can catch the unearthly nuances of Can and the spaciously swinging psychedelic corners of Amon Dül, Embryo, Tangerine Dream, or Klaus Schulze. As TM Solver has been a lover of analog synthesizers for almost 30 years, all pulsates on analogue sound orbs under the zigzagging guidance of machines like Moog Prodegy, Korg MS20 and GRP A4, as well as state-of-the-art systems as ASM Hydrasynth and Korg Wavestate. When he got in touch with the Berlin club scene and all its propelling grooves in 2006, a new rhythmic universe joined his vast musical space of sound latitudes. “Tinkering around with sound structures is my thing. Leading the listener into a combination of music and sound spaces.“ he reveals on his emotive musical art. How affecting it works, is now displayed with four epic compositions for R.i.O., Berlin Wedding’s label of novel ways for caved rhythmic patterns. Grooving between 90 to 240 BPM, they offer a vast variety of emotional landscapes, slowing down, rolling up, drifting into genuinely layered tonality magic. Headspace music for vigilant wanderers. Utterly psychedelic and yet so clear. His R.i.O. debut “Subtraktiv Additiv“ comes with five additional remixes, fashioned by R.i.O. conspirator Benedikt Frey, Amsterdam based DJ and producer Mayo, “Die Orakel” magician O-Wells from Frankfurt, Siamese Twin Records co-runner Sunju Hargun, and the versatile club and beyond production duo Red Axes. They all respect TM Solver’s analogue zones and pitch them into the 115 to 130 BPM districts, while transcending his absorbing synth compositions into the world of nervous acid-laden ambient, slow-mo techno, industrial bass, post-trance, and all that hallucinogenic echo house. Nine subtle energy vibrations, epic and full of countless facets, shaped to turn on, tune in, and drop out. More

When British Airways got privatized and listed on the London Stock Exchange, somewhere in Canada the first Starbucks outside of the US opened, and the Walt Disney Company signed an agreement with the French Prime Minister to construct Disneyland Paris. In the sky above southern Argentina, Equatorial Guinea, Cameroon, Sudan, Ethiopia, Djibouti, northern Somalia, and the Atlantic Ocean a hybrid solar eclipse materialized for 7.57 seconds, whilst Margaret Thatcher performed for 45-minutes on Soviet television. Some days later, The Simpsons cartoon first appears as a series of shorts on The Tracey Ullman Show, Diego Maradona wins his first Italian soccer championship with Napoli, and Eighteen-year-old West German pilot Mathias Rust lands a private plane on Red Square in Moscow. In the mists of the world's first conference on artificial life at the Los Alamos National Laboratory, the first Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant in Mainland China opens in Beijing, and Prozac gets approved for use as an antidepressant in the United States. Much give way for the future, down there in 1987, the year that marks the title of Benedikt Frey’s freshest mini album, out into the world on R.i.O., the label he runs with some pals in the North of Berlin. It’s a dubby melancholic conqueror, wistfully, repetitive, drilling, absorbing, spooking. It makes you dream. Not particular of the year 1987. But it’s all there: The Red Square, the untouched land of the Val d'Europe, Diego on fuego. Six dark-ish tracks in trance, melancholic dub, downbeat heaven, journey music depths, all full of light and yet so dark. Futuristic dramas linked to a speculative past. In our dreams all might look different. The eclipse may last 27- minutes. You meet Neuromancer cyberpunks and blade running Ghost dogs, all taught to hack by Phrack. Cristal clear melodies, sampled voices, and veiled basslines, analogue scopes, and digital ropes, longing for a past that storm into the future. A time where deep listening widens the acoustics into infinity, while neon glows charm the light smog. Benedikt Frey been down there. Or maybe not. His latest music tells stories from the bygone, vested with the forthcoming. Come in and look out. There is nothing to see, yet so much to hear. More

They are here, all over: sudden, random molecular movements. Invisible and yet extremely effective. Perceptible only to those who turn on things from a peculiar outlook. Now Rio unfolds the second edition of “Risks Issues Opportunities”, bringing interstellar musical developments full of little, yet profound molecule advances. Eight mystical fate spinners, with the muscle to shed some light on unanswered questions, that will stay unanswered after all. Monolithic, yet deeply fragile compositions, made by terrestrials like Leipzig based producer Syncboy, Pannotia from Sydney, Italy based dusty drum machines lovers Twoonky, Charlotte Simon, known as one half of the art duo Le Trucs from Frankfurt, Berlin mystic’s like Airaboi or Nadia D'Alò of the duo INIT, Brooklyn based “The Thing” housekeeper Willie Burns and Vienna’s symbolist sound poet Bocksrucker. They all created electric signs for the above. Murky analogue prophesiers without prophecy, bringing headway music against the greedy frontier spirit. Hypnotic tones out of a hazy musical outer space. Like a dream that forgot to dream, they wave around with veiled frequencies full of ray, processed through analogue machine power. Music, that is able to in sight humans to an Atget photography. Able to transmit flashes to the firmament, to stars that wander darkling in eternal space. And yes: to some who listen a sudden physical movement might transpire, despite the fact that all was made without a particular practical value. Art for art's sake?. In favor of an alternative to reality. Compellingly haunted by itself. Like stone, that awaits a random molecular movement. More

I dream of you so quietly. Your likeness is not visible, the wind obscures your silhouette. You create spirals and don't know why. A burning star whirling in an orbit of its own. Each today is yesterday's tomorrow, which is now. And now is all I have, in my dream, so quietly...

Four new tracks on RIO, catalogue number 006. Conducted, dreamed, in- and exhaled by Benedikt Frey and Tim Toh, featuring cosmic whisper and aerospace vocoder poetry by Lisa Toh, Tyler Pope, Lukas Diller and Niklas Wandt. Tripping music, dancing with organic Reprazent-break-infinity, saxophone melodies, Neu-Kraut-transcendence, nervous drones, gloomy bass figures, minimal pop and manic computer malfunctioning tones. All wrapped in a warm void of Melancholie, touching the eternal with murky gloves. Pointillist tunes, thoughtfully peculiar, seriously serious. Now is all they need. Now is all they want. Now I dream of you so quietly. More