With a soaring, emotionally-charged sonic signature all his own, Sam Goku returns to Dekmantel for his latest four-track EP, Bliss Drift. As Sam Goku, over the past few years Robin Wang has edged into the beating heart of the contemporary house and techno scene with a rejuvenating sound that reaches from peak time maximalism to immersive introspection. Across a run of acclaimed albums and EPs including 2024's Radiants on Dekmantel he's balanced the heavyweight impact of his rhythms with mesmerising melodies and swirling atmospheres. It's precisely this blend he brings to Bliss Drift, writing and recording from the heart and accurately capturing what he describes as a sense of blossoming "a renaissance into something new yet familiar." Make no mistake, this is music to make you move. 'Rhythm Drift' and 'Bliss Drift' lead on rock-solid rhythms as springboards for Goku's ascendant tones. Airy, mysterious pads and sampled choral voices meet with glistening chimes that soften the tough edges of the drums a quintessential demonstration of how to make a tender banger. 'Warm Soils' strikes a deeper, more meditative note enriched with haunting flutes and a heads-down roll to the percussion, while 'Infinity Keys (Sina's Song)' lets rich layers of melodic sequencing dictate the pace in a poised demonstration of techno composition at its most expressive. Catching the mood as the Northern Hemisphere heads out of the winter months, Goku's unique energy hails a return to the light via four distinct twists on the house and techno tradition.

Making a welcome return nine years on from his last outing on Dekmantel, Makam offers up a generous helping of wayward grooves that take his curious spirit even further into unmarked territory. With a strong dub sensibility grounding his rich tapestry of percussion and instrumentation, Guy Blanken follows his own path to arrive at an album that embodies house music as a launchpad for experimentation. Blanken says himself he was determined to approach his first Makam productions in years from a place of total freedom Its not a single direction, but rather a landscape of sounds, moments, and textures. TARP feels like a new beginning, a free project that just had to happen naturally. The steady pulse of the club remains a guiding principle boldly manifested on heads down roller Static Shade, but even in the lilting organic loops and tumbling percussion of Forgive there is a funkiness thats beholden to continuous movement. At times the direct thump of 4/4 disco juts out as a call to dance, not least on Flying Birds and La Tuna, but elsewhere the rhythms are more slippery. Dub In Loen plots a delicate path through dub techno and Lummel Spirit casts off into pattering Balearic bliss. The pervasive dub mood of the record comes to the fore on expertly crafted stepper Diagonal Rain and crooked album opener Clear Skies. Jackie B lands as a love letter to quintessential deep house, and yet still theres a left-of-centre charm that gives the track a personality that is pure Makam. Exuding warmth and imagination at every turn, TARP is the perfect example of how to make a groove-oriented album a rich home listening experience. There are ample moments primed for the spectacle of the dancefloor, but the mellow hue and broad sweep of approaches make Makams welcome return utterly compelling from end to end.

In a continuation of his devotional celebration of the dance, Shed arrives on Dekmantel with Rave Echoes a supple, mesmerising album of angular techno caught between the heat of peak time and the time-blurred hours after the club. Few artists have nailed the intersection of the intellectual, emotional and physical in techno as evocatively as Rene Pawlowitz. For more than 20 years and across scores of aliases the Frankfurt/Oder-born, Berlin-based trailblazer has pushed a distinctive strain of machine music in thrall to the functional demands of motion without ever sacrificing subtlety, space, intrigue and expression. While his vast catalogue of work touches on many different moods and energies, on his Dekmantel debut Rave Echoes he shrouds eight forthright workouts in a blanket of misty melancholia to evoke the enchanting afterglow of the party. "It's not nostalgic," Pawlowitz explains. "It's about that feeling that remains for a day, a week or even years after celebrating a rave. I still have that feeling for about 30 years now. This record tries to describe it." The vaporous pads that soar over 'Password (Techno Mix)' certainly come charged with a bittersweet sentiment. Meanwhile the rhythmic locomotion comes on like the rumble of the first train back after leaving the club. The insistent bell loop up top rings out like the hook of the last track that rang out over the soundsystem. It's a sensation familiar to anyone who has spent their last drop of energy at the altar of dance, where exhaustion meets with satisfaction and disorientation as you recalibrate back into the real world. This approach dreamlike atmospherics and rugged propulsion takes on many guises across Rave Echoes. It's submerged and restrained on 'Loot 25', speckled with sharply sliced breaks on 'Everybody' and scattered across a sparse, steppy soundscape on 'Rave Predator'. Emotive, swooning strings collide with tough, squashed breakstep drums on 'Double Scoop' and 'Taking You Home' thrusts with urgency even as Pawlowitz softens the spiky transients to make space for pure rave romanticism. There is even space for 'Rave Echoes' itself the last groove before your eyes finally close, as the beat slows to a weighty trip hop roll and the ambience blooms out into a dense blanket across the frequency range. Bursting with the nuanced production, rugged UK-school soundsystem pressure and Berlin-school techno momentum that makes him such a celebrated producer, on Rave Echoes Shed offers a perfect impression of those wild, indescribable sensory overloads that leave their mark on anyone devoted to the dancefloor.

With a soaring, emotionally-charged sonic signature all his own, Sam Goku returns to Dekmantel for his latest four-track EP, Bliss Drift. As Sam Goku, over the past few years Robin Wang has edged into the beating heart of the contemporary house and techno scene with a rejuvenating sound that reaches from peak time maximalism to immersive introspection. Across a run of acclaimed albums and EPs including 2024's Radiants on Dekmantel he's balanced the heavyweight impact of his rhythms with mesmerising melodies and swirling atmospheres. It's precisely this blend he brings to Bliss Drift, writing and recording from the heart and accurately capturing what he describes as a sense of blossoming "a renaissance into something new yet familiar." Make no mistake, this is music to make you move. 'Rhythm Drift' and 'Bliss Drift' lead on rock-solid rhythms as springboards for Goku's ascendant tones. Airy, mysterious pads and sampled choral voices meet with glistening chimes that soften the tough edges of the drums a quintessential demonstration of how to make a tender banger. 'Warm Soils' strikes a deeper, more meditative note enriched with haunting flutes and a heads-down roll to the percussion, while 'Infinity Keys (Sina's Song)' lets rich layers of melodic sequencing dictate the pace in a poised demonstration of techno composition at its most expressive. Catching the mood as the Northern Hemisphere heads out of the winter months, Goku's unique energy hails a return to the light via four distinct twists on the house and techno tradition.