spclnch

Pedro Capelossi – Stolen Memories | SL93

Sticky, cosy dub serenades from Pedro Capelossi that let you disconnect from the everyday. The journey into a dreamlike world rides on drawn-out synthesizers and gentle delay, before landing on a surprisingly punchy, active kick and bass. This is exactly what a world of dreams sounds like. . Spacelunch took a bite of his burger and, without wasting any more time, reached into his pocket for the note they'd found at Melvin's place. He set it in the middle of the table and frowned, looking at Cat. It wasn't just a look but a call for action, a duel of opinions, the kind where nobody dies but each side must put forward theory after theory. These discussions tended to end in quarrels and even strong language. "What does the number of symbols have to do with anything? I'm telling you, look at the sequence!" "Of course, you're the professor after all. Everyone else's opinion doesn't count." "Then argue your case." "Since when does a wall need arguments?" The detective fever ran so high that a person who had stepped right up to their table went unnoticed for some time, until neatly slipping into a pause: "What brings two such distinguished gentlemen to a place like this?" Spacelunch and Cat froze, then turned simultaneously. Standing before them was a girl in a black dress. "How can I help you?" "My name is Suzie. I decided to say something after I had caught a familiar accent. I've only ever heard it in one place — Staten Island." "Ahem… I beg your pardon? You've been there?" "Born there. Spent the first sixteen years of my life there." Something powerful stirred deep within the Professor. He couldn't have imagined what an acquaintance was waiting for him thousands of light-years away from home.

Special Zip – Dr. Caligari’s Experiment | SPCLNCH14

Special Zip shapes his narrative into an album with bold, unpredictable movement. A melancholic intro of philosophical keys gives way to something else sooner than you'd expect. An active rhythm section takes over across several tracks, pulling between progressive energy, psychotropic dub, and underground minimal with a kink-laced aesthetic. The remixes from Toki Fuko and Alexander Bogdanov work like yin and yang — balancing calm against rave, drive against detachment, threading tribal and techno into each other's edges. . Dr. Caligari was notoriously out of his mind — a genius fixated on experiments and a former lecturer at the Department of Experimental Phonetics. His students, Spacelunch included, spoke of him with cautious admiration: “Too smart to be normal; too bold to stop.” His laboratory looked like a hand-welded cosmos: cables everywhere, diodes, and the soft hiss of electricity. “What’s that?” Spacelunch nodded toward the large glass dome. “My new invention that allows sound to become tangible. Care to take a look?” The Professor and Cat carefully stepped inside. “You’re about to be the first to witness the voice of space!” “Hey, we didn’t sign up for this!” “Doesn’t that make the experiment more interesting?” Caligari smiled and turned a dial. Their bodies stretched like strands of pasta and vanished. An instant later, they found themselves in another dimension: towers of transistors and coils rose into the sky, the air thrummed with low-frequency oscillations, and every flash of light carried the rhythm of a sonic lattice. Almost at once, the image wavered like old film, went black, and then snapped back to the laboratory. Caligari sat at the console, eyes fixed on the monitors. “It worked,” he whispered. “Perfect phase alignment!”

Spectral Model – Music Is Also Visual | SL92

Every new release gives us a little rush, and real satisfaction once it lands. What follows is a sequence of scenes and angles, all rooted in a shared dub foundation. Across four tracks, Spectral Model conjures images of the tropics and their tribal drums, intricate shamanic voices wrapped in psychogenic delay, deep illustrations cut with hi-hat breaks, and a tight, technical underground core. Dig in. . The Astrojet carried Spacelunch and Cat in an unknown direction, weaving between asteroids at tremendous speed. A hollow feeling crept up their throats, leaving only the occasional swallow. Both had been quiet for a long time, so the first word pierced the silence like a splinter. "I have déjà vu." "What do you mean by that?!" "We never should've got mixed up in that damn auction." "Don't start, furball. Melvin will turn up." "I just hope in one piece…" The Professor looked away, uploaded the map, and pressed his finger on a blinking dot. It marked the nearest moon — somewhere to catch their breath and figure out a plan. The onboard computer traced the route and announced they were approaching the gravitational field. Only minutes to landing. "I can't take this anymore. My brain is completely fried." "I've got nothing either, Doc." "We'll stop at some local place, get a bite, and work out where to start looking." The staff at the empty café "Sam's" were glad to have visitors and took their order right away. A welcome treat on the house was already on the table, inviting the two wanderers to sample not only the local food but a heated argument yet to come. The evening was off to a rough start.

Deemkeyne – Broken Feelings | SL91

Deemkeyne takes over the relay of densifying spaces. Thick as tar, a dark substance spills across the ground, gradually transforming into an active matter. As its radius of influence expands, it begins to assume different forms. It first grows more adhesive, penetrating the cells of living organisms. Then it alters all living matter at a genetic level and initiates the renewal of the surrounding environment. Eventually, a new reality takes shape. From this point on, everything surrounding it exists as a self-sustaining dub ecosystem, governed by sonic processes of different orders. . One month later. Cat had been discharged early in the morning, so he had the rest of the day ahead of him — ideally to be spent in good company. The Professor was waiting at the reception to sign the remaining documents. Suddenly, the elevator doors opened, presenting Spacelunch with his renewed companion. “Hey, Fluffy! You’re healing like a dog!” “I’ve got nine lives, remember? Did you bring the gift?” Their tight hug marked more than just a reunion. Life has a way of putting things back into their place — often to teach a lesson. Sometimes a harsh one. What once seemed insurmountable can suddenly feel harmless, even amusing, when one faces a real threat. “Let’s go to Melvin’s — we’ll surprise him!” “I knew you’d say that, Doc. Let’s grab some wok on the way.” Like that, after a bit of preparation, the two friends stood in front of Melvin’s apartment. They exchanged a glance and decided to scare him with a loud knock. After the first bang, the door creaked open slightly. No one was inside. The place was in disarray. At first, it felt like a failed prank — but there was nothing funny about it. On the table lay a crumpled note, covered in strange symbols and numbers. Their return to normal life had come much sooner than expected…

R.Hz – Hybrid Dub | SPCLNCHBLACK03

The Black Series once again introduces declassified files. R.Hz has documented an unexplained sonic phenomenon. It seeps beneath the skin, triggering derealization and a sense of detachment from the self. The dark environment is filled with ominous rustles, trip-infused samples carrying fragments of thought emerging from the depths of consciousness, viscous dub matter, and horror-laced pads set against fractured rhythmic structures. . The experiment aboard orbital station Sequoia-4 began as a routine test of the acoustic array. The team attempted to synchronize an analogue resonator with a quantum audio synthesizer. The two incompatible frequencies were expected to cancel each other out. Instead, the instruments registered a stable wave. It didn’t fade, on the contrary, it did respond to every sound, every movement around it. At first, they assumed a coding error, but the wave began adapting to the researchers’ voices, shifting its amplitude and rhythm. Within hours, its spectrum started to resemble a heartbeat. The recording was forwarded to the Analysis Division, where it was named Hybrid Dub — a hybrid resonance formed between the machine and the human senses. The phenomenon proved unpredictable: each listener described different effects, from gentle euphoria to vivid recollections of memories that had never occurred. Even after the system was powered down, a faint signal persisted in the ether — as if the mechanism had learned to breathe on its own. Some claimed that, when replayed, traces of the ocean, rustling leaves, and distant voices could be heard — as though the signal had passed through layers of living matter and remembered them. The project was shut down, and the archive sealed. Only one line remained in the final report: “The signal wasn’t created — it discovered us.”