spclnch

Episoder

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  Pedro Capelossi – Stolen Memories | SL93 13.08.2026 4min

  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.
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  Special Zip – Dr. Caligari’s Experiment | SPCLNCH14 23.07.2026 10min

  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!”
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  Spectral Model – Music Is Also Visual | SL92 09.07.2026 4min

  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.
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  Deemkeyne – Broken Feelings | SL91 28.05.2026 4min

  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…
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  R.Hz – Hybrid Dub | SPCLNCHBLACK03 21.05.2026 10min

  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.”
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  Javier Ho – Fake Freedom | SL90 16.04.2026 4min

  Dub surfer Javier Ho opens the season, gliding through waves of delay and navigating the depths of the genre. In this new tetralogy, he maintains a measured rhythmic range from track to track, all immersed in layers of hazy, fog-drenched synthesizers. . “Just think about it, you narrowly dodged the bullet from my double. Bloody madness!” “At least he didn’t complain as much. By the way, Doc… since when do you know how to fire a blaster?” “I don’t. That was my first time holding one. Must’ve been the Japanese whisky.” Cat let out a soft chuckle, but immediately winced in pain. IV lines, a pile of pills, and the steady pulse of a cardiac monitor all signalled a deep, still-fresh wound. The Professor had paid a high price to have his friend treated here, under the care of the finest specialists in the galaxy. The wards of Healthy Spirit Clinic were equipped with the latest technology designed to fight for the lives of high-ranking officials… or reckless explorers. “Melvin really helped us. We should thank him properly — once you’re back on your feet.” “Great idea! We could all go out for Chinese. Damn… I could really use a shrimp wok right now.” The operation was successful. The surgeons removed the explosive round that, by sheer luck, never detonated. A scar would remain on the tailed patient’s body — but as they say, every scar is a story. But do shared ideals survive conflict? Though the matter was settled for now, the final answer would reveal itself in the pursuit of new adventures.
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  Premiere: Amaral Borges – Melted Patch [DUBCUTS009] 18.03.2026 7min

  @symbiotical-records @amaral-borges
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  Premiere: Peter Zherebtsov – Heavy Hitting [UTR056] 12.03.2026 11min

  Utro Records dives into darker territory with Peter Zherebtsov’s Habitat EP — stripped, industrial-leaning minimal built on weighty low-end and tense atmospheres. Our pick, “Heavy Hitting”, sits right in the center of that mood: slow pressure, metallic echoes and a groove built on dense rhythm and controlled restraint. @utrorec @unknownartist88 @nvradr
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  Premiere: Tarek JR – Rin (Za__Paradigma Remix) [TKT015] 18.02.2026 7min

  Released on TAKT Recordings, The Rin EP by Tarek JR operates in that narrow band where minimal house becomes almost architectural — reduced, steady, and precise. Za__Paradigma’s version pushes it deeper into the room: longer shadows, heavier air, and a groove that deepens with each pass, gradually locking into place. @taktrec @user-389265331 @zaurik-1
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  E-Mantra – Distant Signals | SL89 17.02.2026 4min

  To connect with higher intelligence, E-Mantra shapes expansive sonic fields with shifting ranges. Embedded within them are messages about the hidden rituals of the port of Constanța, the power of untamed elements, and philosophical invocations. Micro-crackling textures, cosmogenic synthesizers, and dense, space-filling pads draw the listener into a hypnotic state, gently softening the narrative of a new chapter. . Having regained consciousness, Spacelunch looked around and realised he was still exactly where he had been. His heart was pounding — half from the hangover, half from a growing sense of dread. Struggling to focus, he used his portable communicator to initiate a transfer to the Cat’s location. Since Melvin still had Cat’s service blaster, his route required an extra stop. A few minutes later, a smart car pulled up to the intermediate address. Its door lifted, revealing a slim, slightly unsteady figure with messy curls. Waiting on the other side, in the darkness, stood a large caterpillar. “Mel, did you bring the gun? We don’t have time.” “You look rough, Doc. I’ll lose my mind if something happens to either of you. Maybe I should come with you?” “Just give me the damn gun. And stay on the line.” “Here. Please… be careful.” The professor jumped back into the smart car without another word, and it disappeared around the intersection. The autopilot counted down the remaining distance until a run-down industrial area appeared in the window. “You have arrived,” the navigator intoned like a command. Spacelunch rushed toward the building entrance as a desperate scream came out from the inside. Cat lay on the floor, gasping for air. He was wounded. “Taste this, you freak!” The double’s head burst to pieces from a precise shot. “Meeeow! You actually came… Don’t leave me again…” “Hang on, buddy! The help is on the way.”
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  Phasen – Places With Gaby | SL88 15.01.2026 4min

  Fraudlin finished his cigarette in no time. His only breakfast was a cup of instant coffee — all he could afford after a night at a casino. Instead of brushing his teeth, he rinsed his mouth with another bitter sip, then sprayed himself with cologne to mask the smell of sweat and questionable places. The young gambler, fired up on adrenaline, often neglected basic hygiene, but today there was another, far more serious reason: an informant had delivered alarming news. And he had to move fast. His head felt like a dusty chest that had suddenly been thrown open. Fraudlin rushed out of the house the moment he realised something irreversible was about to happen. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he reached the comms point to send Spacelunch the coordinates through a secure channel. His thin fingers trembled as he dialled. The first call was declined. The second… “Yeah?” “Urgent! Cat is with you right now — and he’s in danger!” “What are you talking about?!” “Well, technically, he’s with another you. One of the Aerospace Corporation’s goons stole your smart-bracelet. They activated the portal and sent a double after your friend to eliminate him and frame you. I’m sending the location!” The professor sprang to his feet, turned suddenly pale, and fainted. Strained nerves mixed with alcohol made a toxic blend. Now, only luck could change the course of what was coming.
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  spclnch podcast #94 / Tech Spirit 04.01.2026 1t 3min

  Inspector Tech Spirit from the Ecological Commission has been urgently dispatched to a distant planet. A special audio transmission has been recorded to synchronize with the frequency of its inhabitants and observe their behavior. The investigation is now underway. @techspiritset
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  Avguchenko – Field Design | SL87 18.12.2025 4min

  “Hey, move your paws!” “You’re acting weird. How much longer are we going to wander around?” “We need to stay away from prying ears. You’ll find out soon enough…” The road the professor had chosen grew darker and grimmer. Occasional flickers of light ran across his face twisted in an unreadable grimace, half from the drizzle, half from some inner strain. Eventually, the narrow alleys led them to an abandoned building. Its worn-down walls seemed more suited for rituals than for an honest conversation. The drizzle turned into heavy rain, leaving them no choice but to seek shelter inside. Shaking off the water, Cat was looking around when a faint silhouette flashed through one of the doorways. Spacelunch’s hand slowly reached into his pocket. “You okay, Doc?” “Looks like your feline instincts have taken a day off. The road is paved, fluffy.” “What? Road to where?” “To hell. Say goodbye, idiot.” A gun stared straight into his trusting eyes. The cold metal seemed to whisper that the warmth of friendship was about to fade away, too.
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  Premiere: Daniel Neighbour – Dubmuse [VA006] 12.12.2025 9min

  Moving Pictures’ new VA drifts along the edge where perception and sound blur — slow dub currents, restrained movement, and a quiet focus that rewards close listening. Dubmuse by Daniel Neighbour sits right at the center of that mood: a deep, humming dub piece with a steady pulse and details that only fully reveal themselves over time. @movpic @dj-neighbour
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  Upwellings – Lost Sanctuary | SL86 27.11.2025 4min

  The professor sat on the terrace of an abandoned tech facility. Once, solar panels were tested here. Now, it looked as if even the Sun itself had lost interest. A few stubborn bushes survived thanks to the rain and defiance. Overhead, an old floodlight kept short-circuiting — a flicker in memory of shifts that would never happen again. Maybe silence had chosen this forgotten perimeter to speak finally. By his feet sat a flask of Japanese whisky — a gift from Cat. The very one given after their first clean mission. Spacelunch stared into the dark, trying to sense the outlines of life. Things used to be simpler. A home on Earth. A garage where a pet — once just a cat saved from a burning room as a cub — first spoke. “I should’ve never started those experiments,” he thought. But the images came anyway — the action, the laughter, the arguments — all of it made sense once, as long as someone was walking beside him, who could meow outside of protocol. Somewhere between the missions, the mistakes, the tall tales — their bond had dissolved. But by now, it was far too late to analyze anything.
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  Antenn – Det Synliga | SL85 06.11.2025 7min

  The night felt almost mystical. The flickering of neon signs brought to life the trash bins and fire escapes — street romance in its purest form. But not everything fit together as neatly as it seemed. Foul-smelling steam rolled out from sewer grates. From deep within a nearby alley came distant screams, followed by hurried footsteps. Somewhere above, the shriek of a police drone was concealed by the noise of the district. Not far from there, at the corner of a food stall, Cat sat. Poking at cold noodles with a pair of chopsticks, he gazed at the stars and thought about home. Then, suddenly, he froze, his eyes locked at something in front. Someone was approaching fast, with a familiar stride. “Heads up, fluffy.” “Doc…” “We don’t have much time. Let’s shake hands and forget about the fight.” “You think you can just vanish and then reappear like nothing happened?” “I was being an idiot. I know that. But it’s not safe here. I’ll explain on the way.” Cat nodded and followed silently. Memory and logic tangled into a knot — clinging to the professor’s voice, his tone, his face. Something felt… off. It wasn’t just the apology. There was something weird about him. The doubt that was creeping through him gave way to determination. They had a lot to talk about.
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  Basicnoise – Echoes From Iconia | SPCLNCHBLACK02 23.10.2025 11min

  SPCLNCH-BLACK continues: a series where minimalism becomes message, and sound drifts between the real and the imagined. Chapter two — “Echoes From Iconia” by Basicnoise. Shifting time layers, slow pulses, and distant patterns with no clear origin. The signal is a trace of something that was here — or still is. You listen. Something listens back. . Logbook. Exploration mission. Day 1. The planet is dead. An anomaly is detected — the time flow is slightly distorted. Day 2. Landed in the central crater. The clocks of our suits show different times from the clocks on the ship. The gap is increasing. Day 4. Logs contain records of events that never happened. A report of tomorrow’s evacuation appeared in the system. No one wrote it. Day 5. We found footprints leading from the landing site to the crater, identical to ours. The ship log was discovered nearby. Final entry: “Do not enter the crater.” Log transmission terminated. The crew did not reestablish contact.
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  Alexander Bogdanov – Traffic | SL84 16.10.2025 10min

  Somewhere in the mobile lab… “As soon as the instructions have arrived, we will open the portal.” “Uploading the memory… and done!” Everything was going according to plan. Two figures in matte suits stood by the station where a smart bracelet was secured. Its flickering indicator showed that the synchronisation and data reading were in progress. The lines from the Protocol lit up on the holographic panel, along with Spacelunch’s face and the message: “Cloning completed successfully. Compatibility confirmed. Double awaiting command.” The professor’s copy looked more convincing than the original. The only thing left was to activate the teleport via a special procedure and send the double to Chinatown, for which the coordinates were preloaded. For millennia, the best minds of the Aerospace Corporation had built their reputation on cutting-edge tech. But at what cost? The Cybernetics Department had long mastered the art of acquiring — by any means necessary — external breakthroughs and weaving them into their own algorithms. This wasn’t just about innovation anymore. It was a confrontation. And its final result would be a delicacy for any of the Minimal Antagonist’s protégés.
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  spclnch podcast #93 / Asphalt Layer 29.08.2025 1t 37min

  They simply called it “The Laboratory.” There were no windows — only the hum of life-support systems and aquariums filled with lifeforms that defied classification. On evenings like this, Spacelunch would tune the setup, Cat would yank out unnecessary cables with his tail, and everything would freeze in anticipation of the signal. A deep, steady mix filled the space, seeping into reservoirs, consoles, and whispering sensors. Something flared, something trembled — as if the environment itself was trying to synchronize with the rhythm. Later, a new chapter would appear in the Professor’s log: “Sample 93.” @asphalt_layer
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  DP-6 – Distant Thunder | SL83 21.08.2025 4min

  The casino, tucked away in an old freight terminal, had no name on the facade. Locals simply called it “The Hum” — a place where you could lose your money, and maybe even your mind. The air was thick with tobacco smoke and cheap perfume, and the ceiling sank into a pulsing dim light. Spacelunch passed a row of slot machines, where regulars pressed the buttons like condemned souls, and stopped at the roulette table. Fraudlin, a scrawny gambling addict with a blank expression, was sucking the last puff out of a cigarette butt as if no one else existed. Suddenly, a figure in a long coat appeared beside him. — You only show up when things get tough. — Fair. Today I need your ears. — Heard about Cat. Word is, the bracelet has changed hands — more than once. And not just the bracelet. Some data on your whereabouts, too. — Any idea who’s behind it? Fraudlin flicked the ash, watching the roulette pill slide into a black slot. — Rumour has it the trail runs through the old customs department. A lot of middlemen down there are working under the Corporation’s wing. Too neat to be a coincidence. — You think Cat set me up? — Sometimes it’s easier to blame the closest one than to admit you got outplayed. Silence fell, full of second-guesses and afterthoughts. Spacelunch reached into his coat and tossed a credit chip onto the pile of chips. — Let me know if anything new comes up. — Don’t worry. The Hum hears everything. Keep my channel open.