LATECRATES

'Sabrah Desha' doesn't mean anything, probably, and it doesn't matter. Robag Wruhme's latest is out on Kompakt, another masterclass in off-kilter rhythm from the German veteran.

The whole track hangs on this loping percussion thing that never quite lands on the beat the way you expect. It's always a hair behind. And it stays that way the whole time instead of correcting itself into something more normal halfway through. That's a very Robag thing to do, actually. He's been doing some version of that off-center groove since forever.

It's the kind of detail you only notice when you really listen. 'Sabrah Desha' has personality in spades, a patient, hypnotic groove that rewards close attention.

Out August 6th on Kompakt.

I was going to write this one up as a straightforward progressive house single. Then I put it on and realised I was already three listens deep without noticing, which tells you more than any genre label ever will.

'Diablos' is the work of NevadaSYSTEM, out now on Vasa Records, and it's a patient piece of music. 123 bpm, B minor, and it carries this low drone that sits under the whole arrangement like a held breath. It doesn't resolve until almost the very end. The build knows what it's doing. It doesn't oversell the drop, doesn't telegraph the release like a cheap magic trick. It just lets the tension accrue, layer by layer, until the floor finally gives.

That's not easy to pull off. Most producers rush the payoff or bury the listener in fills. Here, the restraint is the point. The groove is steady, the textures are gritty but warm, and the whole thing feels like it was built for a room that's already deep into the night.

Vasa Records is the label behind March's 'Covenant', and 'Diablos' is their second release to show up on our radar this year. No fanfare, no overblown statements, just solid, functional club music with a real sense of craft. 'Diablos' is exactly that.

Lee Burridge's new single 'Fading Out' lands on his own All Day I Dream label this Friday. A single, patient composition in its original and extended form, it feels less like a peak-time weapon and more like a farewell to the dancefloor, a track for the room right after the last drop, when bodies are still moving but the conversation has slowed to something quieter.

It's classic Burridge in the sense that it never shouts. The production is built on a warm, unhurried pad progression that feels like it's been glowing in the corner of the room the whole night, only now allowed to step forward. There's a soft, almost hesitant percussion bed that keeps time without demanding attention, and the whole thing breathes with a kind of unhurried elegance.

The standout detail is a little vocal chop that keeps almost surfacing in the back half, getting pulled back under the pad again just before it becomes a hook. It's a very 'not yet, not yet' gesture, and it's precisely that restraint that makes the track work. On a label known for its dreamy house aesthetic, this one earns its chords rather than coasting on them, and Burridge has kept it deliberately short, which feels like a gift.

This is music for the comedown, the actual comedown, where people are still moving but slower, and not really dancing anymore, just swaying in the afterglow. If you're booking a closing set for the summer, this is the record you want in the final fifteen minutes.

Nick Warren returns to The Soundgarden with 'Wanderlust', a two-track single that pairs the upbeat, expected lead with the deeper, more interesting 'Kairos' on the B-side.

'Wanderlust' (the title track) is classic Nick Warren: airy, melodic, and built for the main room. It's a solid, dependable progressive house cut that delivers the familiar warmth and cosmic textures you'd expect from the British legend.

But it's 'Kairos' that really holds the attention. Track two has more going on in the back half, the drums get busier, the pads swell with more purpose, and the arrangement unfolds with a patient, knowing hand. It's the work of someone who's been shaping dance floors for decades, and it shows in the details.

Pick up 'Wanderlust' now on The Soundgarden. It's the deeper cut that'll stay in your crate.

There’s no better feeling than finding a record with a label name that just feels right. Fall From Grace Records. I love it already, definitely somebody who meant it with a name like that.

The whole EP is out June 23rd, 2026, but the opener is the one.

‘Remind Me / Catch Me’ is the big one. It’s a two-part song title, but really it’s one single piece of music, and it does something I haven’t heard in a while. There’s a whole call and response feel to the structure, and I think it sits right at the point in a set where people start actually talking to each other again. Not the four-in-the-morning silence, not the peak-hour screaming. The middle part, the warm part, where the room gets chatty but in a good way, like everyone’s having the same conversation at once. The drums are round, the chords are a little bit dusty, and the vocal sample, if you can call it that, feels more like a signal than a verse. It’s got that live, immediate quality to it. Like it was recorded in a room with the door open.

The rest of the EP is fine. ‘Distant Law’ comes next and it’s kind of just there. Doesn’t do anything the opener didn’t already do better. It’s a comedown, sure, but it’s the kind of comedown that you forget the second it’s over. ‘The Mouse & The Wolf’ at least tries something different, a bit more off-kilter, but it still can’t match the pull of that first track. The two mixes of the title track, ‘This Must Be Deep (Groovy Mix)’ and ‘This Must Be Deep (Dance Edit)’, are fine but they’re not the reason you’re here.

You’re here for ‘Remind Me / Catch Me’. That’s the one. That’s the record.

Amtrac’s latest EP is here, and he’s made a bold structural choice: the title track, 'Civilian World', is sitting in slot number two.

That’s the kind of move you don’t see every day. Normally, the title track is either your opener, your closer, or hidden somewhere in the middle as a secret weapon. But here, Amtrac leads with the explosive ‘High Speed Ring’, then pulls back the curtain almost immediately with the deeply immersive ‘Civilian World’, the heart of the EP, right up front. It’s a statement: this is what the record is about, and we’re not waiting to show you.

And, it works. ‘Civilian World’ is the best thing on this EP, genuinely, no flat-track bias this time. It’s got that signature Amtrac warmth: dusty drums, soaring pads, and a melody that feels like a memory you can’t quite place. It’s not an accident; it’s a structure choice, and it pays off.

The rest of the EP holds its own too. ‘Same Team’ brings that late-night, heads-down energy; ‘Anulpha Pass’ is a proper groove-tool with a futuristic sheen; and closer ‘Identical’ lands as a restrained, beautiful comedown that ties the whole thing together.

Ashibah’s ‘Golden’ EP on This Never Happened is a five-track tour of that soft, blurred light between late afternoon and early evening, out since 14th May, 2026.

The title track is the one. It starts with a synth that sounds like it’s been left out in the sun all day, then a kick comes in and it slowly starts to push, a rolling bassline picking up the slack, the vocal loop rising like heat off the tarmac. And then, about two thirds of the way in, it turns a corner I genuinely wasn't expecting, not a drop, not a breakdown, just a shift, a change in angle, and suddenly the whole thing is moving somewhere else. I really like where it goes.

It sits right at the turn from build to peak, the little run up to it, that moment of breath where you’re about to jump.

‘Forever’ follows. It’s the soft one this time. It’s fine, but nothing happens in it that doesn't already happen better in the title track. It’s the comedown track, the one that doesn't quite land, a bit of a shrug after the main event.

Then you’ve got ‘Walk’, ‘High On You’, and ‘Satellite’, which round out the rest of the EP, holding that same warm, slightly melancholic space.

This Never Happened again, twice this month from them now.

So here is a thing I didn't expect to be thinking about in May: a single so quiet it almost whispered its way past me. Liva K's "Didn't Miss You" dropped on the first of the month on Magnifik Music, a label that seems to operate on the principle that if you blink you'll miss it, and I nearly did.

Which is a shame, because this one is good. Not good in a "hey, this will smash the floor" way, more good in a "this will glue itself to the inside of your head and refuse to leave" way. It opens with a bassline that is doing all the heavy lifting without ever appearing to try, and then her voice comes in, dry, unhurried, and the whole thing just sits there in the pocket. No big dumb build, no fake-out drop. It just arrives and stays.

There's a line in it, "didn't miss you, didn't miss you at all", and the way she delivers it lands somewhere between a shrug and a secret. Which means either it's nothing or it's somebody who actually meant it, and I choose to believe option two. It's the kind of record you put on right after the peak, when the room's still full but people have stopped screaming along and started actually dancing again.

I caught myself humming that bassline in the shower two days after first listen. That's not a review, that's a diagnosis.