When Ballan lands on a label, it’s rarely by accident. The globe-hopping producer has a knack for weaving together the raw energy of Electro, the swing of UK Garage, and the cheeky irreverence of House into tracks that sound as spontaneous as they are deliberate.
review | Kepler – Desire | Contact Music
Kepler launches his new label and event series called Contact with a debut statement that feels less like a first step and more like a fully formed manifesto.
review | Cadence – CASH4TRAX001 | Cash For Trax
Cadence, the club-ready alias of Connor Canty, kicks off the new label Cash For Trax with a two-tracker that doesn’t just nod to the past - it shoves it into the rave with style.
review | Job de Jong – Like This | Slabs
Ducking the hype and doubling down on heavyweight, functional grooves, Dungeon Meat’s Slabs imprint returns with another no-frills slab of dancefloor pressure
review | Wodda – Welcome To The Future | BeeYou Records
Wodda’s steady rise through the UK underground has been anything but accidental.
review | Luke Dean – Get Busy | Reliance
Reliance’s 3rd outing sees UK producer Luke Dean step into the spotlight with his "Get Busy EP", a triple-threat release that drips with sweat, sass, and serious low-end finesse.
review | Wodda – Have We Met Before? | Pilot
After a standout EP on BeeYou, Wodda steps up once again with "Have We Met Before?" on Burnski’s Pilot imprint – and if you haven’t crossed paths with his work before, this is the perfect introduction.
Elevate’s Top10 | June 2025
Tucked away in Berlin’s Friedrichshain district, a stone’s throw from the steel-and-smoke mythology of Berghain/Panorama Bar, Elevate stands as a quiet sanctuary for those who believe the best grooves come pressed on wax.
review | Mtty – Eighth Addition | Addition by Subtraction
Some records don’t arrive with fanfare - they slide in through the back door, light a cigarette, and let the music speak in low, confident tones.
exclusive | Fabio Santos – Give Me Some Bassline | The Set Records
The bass doesn’t arrive. It erupts - like concrete cracking under pressure, like a pulse finally unleashed after being held too long in the chest.
