RA Podcast

Modern hypnotics from a new techno star. It's a tale as old as time: techno DJ moves to Berlin to chase a dream. Philippa Pacho is part of the latest wave of talent to tread that familiar path. But don't let that fool you. She's one of the classiest artists around—no TikTok gimmicks here. Pacho's formative years were spent in her native Stockholm, navigating a vibrant DIY party scene that included warehouse raves and illegal parties. She eventually took up a long-standing residency at beloved local club Under Bron and the experience, as she details in this week's Q&A, sharpened her technical skills, teaching her to handle every type of set—whether opening with patience, supporting a headliner or closing with finesse. She also played with countless touring DJs, from Answer Code Request to Antony Parasole, which ultimately inspired her move to Berlin. That relocation has firmly paid off. It's a testament to Pacho's talent that you'll find her playing pretty much every big club and festival across Europe, fro

Mesmerising dance floor tapestries from a singular experimental musician. Can you reinvent the human voice? The oldest musical instrument in existence, our voices are the foundation of music as we know it, and few push its limits in electronic music today like Lyra Pramuk. On her masterful debut, Fountain the Berlin-based, US-born artist's voice was the only instrument. No drums, no synths—just her voice warped, synthesized and layered to achieve orchestral-like electronics. Five years on from her breakout, Pramuk's practice has steadily evolved, with a continued interest in ideas of folk and futurism, and how technology can enable us to build community beyond boundaries of time and space. There’s a holistic nature to her artistry, one that extends seamlessly into her DJing (she's also a quantum physicist by training). As she explains in the Q&A accompanying this week's RA Podcast, she sees her work as "part of a continuum of sacred, folkloric, and communal music represented by many different subcultures a

Regis and Function's first mix in over 10 years is a unique paean to Silent Servant, heavy on unreleased material. When it came time for RA to compile our Albums of the 2010s, one record with a tauntingly limited availability of 500 copies was never in doubt: Sandwell District's era-defining 'Feed-Forward'. Encompassing Karl O'Connor (Regis), Peter Sutton (Female), David Sumner (Function) and Juan Mendez (Silent Servant), Sandwell District had the underground in a vice grip for over a decade. The collective imploded in 2013, with Sumner and O'Connor's relationship appearing beyond repair. And yet, an unlikely second phase is here, featuring imminent comeback LP 'End Beginnings' and their return to the RA Podcast after 16 years. In 2023, the trio of Function, Regis and Silent Servant had been performing and laying down new material before the latter's shock death last January. It's in the shadow of loss that this unique mix was forged. Founded in 2002 as a spiritual sister to seminal Downwards, Sandwell tru

Raucous club jams from the trio setting pace for a new generation of electronic fans: Dazegxd, gum.mp3 & Swami Sound, AKA EldiaNYC. Something exciting is happening on the margins of online club music. As one generation ages out, another, predominantly made up of Zoomers and Zillennials who fell into rave music mid-pandemic or arrived via gaming, is on the rise. Some of the most dialled-in electronic fans out there have threadbare connection to formalised nightlife, filling their diet instead with DJ Ess, Jane Remover, Jet Set Radio and a thriving ecosystem of global splinter styles that would draw stares from anyone who settled into their preferences pre-2019. Leading the charge—while pointedly reaffirming the value of connection as they go—are EldiaNYC, whose combination of jungle, garage, vintage Black American dance music, regional rap and screen-glued splinter styles hits like a shot of adrenaline. Swami Sound broke first with sexy drill-laced 2-step edits, and last year we named gum.mp3's "Black Life,

21st century electro-futurism, Helsinki style. Sometime around a decade ago, electro started to surge onto dance floors again. A new generation of DJs, from Helena Hauff and DJ Stingray, brought the sci-fi, cyborg funk to new audiences, as a modern retool of the style began enjoying the ubiquity of its four-to-the-floor cousins. And few embody its future for our current decade like Sunny Seppä, AKA Sansibar. Cutting his teeth in Helsinki's underground with residencies at Kaiku and Post Bar, Seppä's sound draws from a broad range of influences far from the Finnish capital. His first releases channeled the high-definition Motor City school of electro, but he has since evolved. Not one to be confined by the narrow confines of any genre, the Finnish producer and DJ's discography has steadily begun to encompass a wider palette of influences, including releases with fellow new-gen electro artist Reptant. It's no wonder Seppä has found a home on Kalahari Oyster Cult. Sans Musique was released by Rey Colino's la

The in-demand US DJ unfurls dubby, dance floor poetry. Where does sentimentality fit on the dance floor? For Liv Klutse, AKA livwutang, the answer is everywhere. The New York-based DJ is guided by a deep desire to stir connection, finding themes and points of correspondence across an impressively broad range of sounds, tempos and eras. This emotional intuition lends Klutse's sets a depth few others can match. Her selections can seem unpredictable, rooted in an appreciation for feeling over genre—hard and soft sounds are carefully balanced with surrealism and bursts of nostalgia (for instance, the Lazy Dog bootleg edit of Everything But The Girl's "Tracey In My Room"). But as versatile as she is, a few signature traits colour her style, such as a love for dubwise music and rhythms from across the Black diaspora, alongside a refreshingly introspective energy that invites dancers to find moments of meditation—even during peak time. A former staffer at our New York office, Klutse has long merited an RA Podca

Three hours of high-intensity heaters from the trio lighting up US club music. "If the baby boomer generation had the three from Belleville, millennials can say…we have Black Rave Culture." Lofty praise from Spain's WOS Festival, and yet the undeniable buzz surrounding the Washington, D.C. trio of Amal, James Bangura and Nativesun makes it feel merited. The Black Rave Culture experience is physical from start to finish. The trio's glide through the rich canon of Black dance music is, naturally, a huge chunk of the appeal. You can hear them slamming ghettotech into gqom, threading UK garage through East Coast club, stitching antic juke and swung techno, and landing the odd Mad Mike all-timer with flair. Their productions mine a similar store of energy, and you'll find plenty of those on RA.974 too. Perhaps most importantly, their tangible chemistry and sincere, undimmed enthusiasm for tunes are what makes this group so magnetic. While their RA Podcast is split threeways, it could just as easily be a round

Kaleidoscopic psychedelia from one of Australia's finest. While it might feel early to call bets on DJs of the decade, Kia Sydney, best known as Kia, is undoubtedly one of them. The Animalia founder began in Naarm's (Melbourne) underground scene in the mid-2010s, crediting a trip to the influential deep techno Japanese festival, Labyrinth, as the inspiration behind her sound. Deep techno might not cut it as a descriptor for Sydney's sound, though. Hypnotic ribbons of steely techno mix with atmospherics and nimble grooves, drawing from IDM, dub and tech house, sharing as much with DJ Nobu and Donato Dozzy (try to find the track that overlaps with Dozzy's own RA Podcast) as well as modern practitioners like Priori and Beatrice M. This distinctly Australian scuttling psychedelia has made Kia one of the most sought-after underground DJs globally. Her brainchild, Animalia, showcases a plurality of sounds and scenes, serving as living proof of the fruitful shift of the 2020s: less serious, perhaps, but with a se

Party-starting stompers from a crossover star. Even if you've never met Adam Longman Parker, AKA Afriqua, you can get to know him pretty well through his music. His lyrics ("Would you house me in a house, would you house right in my mouth?" from "Dr. House"), track titles ("Wagwan Bhagwan?") and cover art exude a charmingly cheeky demeanour that makes his music personable. It helps that his latest records are absolute smashers–funk bombs with jacked beats and bouncy grooves. Once ensconced in the minimal world, the Virginia-born artist gravitated towards Miami bass, Midwest house and zesty techno before the pandemic. Thankfully so: his recent discography combines Moodymann's slinky swagger with The Neptunes' killer sense of rhythm. Just like those legendary acts, Parker carries weight in both the underground and mainstream—he's released with Tomorrowland label CORE Records and DJ'd at Ibiza superclubs, while still appealing to more headsy crowds. His career expansion hasn't cost him his principles, either.

Enter the wormhole with one of the techno artists we're most excited about in 2025. Born in Osaka and now based in Tokyo, DJ MARIA. joins a decorated lineage of Japan's psychedelic elite, cut from a similarly explorative cloth as Wata Igarashi, Haruka and Future Terror icons ¥ØU$UK€ ¥UK1MAT$U and DJ Nobu. This nerdy sanctum of deep techno is a notoriously hard world to break into: only the very best make the grade. DJ MARIA.'s head-spinning sets emphasise why she's already part of the club firmament at home, and is now in the midst of a global breakthrough. Her trademark is tapestries of acid, trance and techno that strike a perfect balance between vibrancy, impact and restraint. She bit the bug through a teenage discovery of DVDs showing legendary psytrance raves like Solstice and Vision Quest, yet it wasn't until 2014 that she started DJing, balancing gigs with shifts at Tokyo's Face Records and, as of late, motherhood. Today, as well as producing and touring venues such as FOLD and Bassiani, she helps r

The Dekmantel favourite kicks off 2025 in an exploratory mood. Since her breakout in 2017, Thessa Thorsing has built an enviable CV: a debut release on Nous'klaer Audio, an album on Dekmantel and a residency at former Amsterdam clubbing institution De School. Over these years, she's honed a singular sound, navigating wild variations in tempo and mood that dance along the edges of techno, IDM and drum & bass (we could list many more, but you know the drill). Her creative arc has seen her delve into ever more abstract concepts, such as 2024's ambient-leaning album, Strange Meridians, exploring the interplay between synthetic and natural textures through drumless experimentations. As she explained in her 2018 RA Breaking Through profile, "I just want to hear the weirdness in the music." Thorsing's RA Podcast showcases exactly why she's one of the most consistently adventurous names in dance music. Describing it as "a mix with a narrative," the former landscape architecture student flexes her ability to build

Ring in 2025 with a three-hour flex from a hero of UK club culture. They don't make DJs like Lukas Wigflex anymore. The Nottingham DJ and promoter has a love for UK club culture that borders on the unfathomable—and he does it all with a gusto that is unmistakably, one hundred percent pure Lukas. Wigflex started out as a "Wigflex Wednesdays," a free bar night in Nottingham with two-for-one pizzas to hook punters in. In the 19 years since, it has grown into one of the UK's most established party series, welcoming dance music giants while still championing homegrown talent. Recalling its journey from a modest bar night to powerhouse party, he told Stamp The Wax: "I created a mixtape and called it Wigflex 2000. It all just evolved naturally from that." "Evolved naturally" is, perhaps, too modest. In an increasingly hostile operating environment, it's hard to overstate the achievement of Wigflex's longevity, a testament to his tenacity and distinctive spirit. Who else, let's be honest, could get away with tag

A wintry collage from one of 2024's breakout stars. As far as crossover electronic success goes, Barry Can't Swim's 2024 scorecard would take some beating. His singles have racked up hundreds of millions of streams, he bagged a Mercury Prize nomination and has the range to both pack out festivals as a DJ and sell out tours worldwide with a string-accented live show. Barely 12 months on from the release of debut album "When Will We Land?", it's fair to say Josh Mannie is one of the most in-demand artists working in dance and electronic music right now, with a follow-up LP nearly done, he says. For RA.968, he pulls in the complete opposite direction from any of that. Sure, there are nods to Mark Leckey and late-night jazz haunts throughout his catalogue, and the ruminative clouds drifting across his signature golden-hour glow do suggest an artist with a sharp grasp on meteorological melancholy. But a beatless collage featuring Suso Sáiz, Slow Attack Ensemble and Lorenzo Senni? It's a surprise, and a welcome

A lesson in rhythm from a former De School resident. When it comes to minimalist dance music, Ruben Üvez, AKA Konduku, is one of the best in the game right now. With a masterful and ever-shapeshifting understanding of rhythm, the Berlin-based artist crafts sublime dance music with a staunchly leftfield bent. Don't just take our word for it: how many DJs, after all, can claim to have moved De School to a puddle of tears? Musically, Üvez is hard to pin down. He's often billed as a techno artist, but actually you'll find his sound sits outside of the genre's many conventions. With an outsider's curiosity, he leans into diverse moods, tempos and genres, though one throughline is always how he arranges his drums. Whether it be deep, Nobu-core techno such as 2023's Hayal EP or UK beat science á la Peverelist on 2019's Gegek, he leads with rhythm across his DJing and production. The end product is a hypnotic, one-of-a-kind sound that hits the body before the brain has time to catch up. In short, it slaps. As Üve

One of Mexico City's key players in session. Paulina Rodriguez, AKA Paurro, came to club music relatively late in life. It took hold of her for the first time when she was in her twenties, during a chance visit to the legendary London institution, fabric, in 2008. One look at her CV today would confirm that she's definitely made up for the late start. Sixteen years later, Rodriguez has worn nearly every hat in the industry, from radio programming, label management and PR to residencies at Mexico City's finest clubs. Nowadays, she's just as hard to pin down as ever, with a global reach: she currently holds a residency with Munich's Radio8000 and tours extensively across Europe, Asia and the Americas. The House of Paurro, her party series, is much like its globetrotting founder: this year alone it's hosted events at Tresor in Berlin, Making Time in Philadelphia and Public Records in New York City. Oh yeah and don't forget, she's also producing absolute bangers, such as 2022's "Galavision," in the moments in

The producer best known as Huerco S. turns in two hours of minimal and dub introspections to accompany One Day, one of our records of the year. This summer, Kansas-raised DJ and producer Brian Leeds released One Day under his revived Loidis alias. Enamoured with the restrained, loopy sounds of early '00s dance music, the album’s eight tracks linger in the air, luxuriating in dubbed-out chords, swung beats and sub vibrations. It's a sound he's coined, in his typically teasing fashion, "dub mnml emo tech." All winks aside, it’s no wonder One Day became the soothing balm we all needed. In a scene overwhelmed by hard and fast trends, the softer—and Leeds might argue, more sincere—stylings of minimal and dub techno enjoyed a welcome second wind. Not only was One Day one of our favourites of the year (more on that this week), but it also inspired us to break our usual no-repeats rule, inviting Leeds back to the RA Podcast under a different alias after his 2019 turn as Huerco S. "The prevailing trends in dance

The longtime Perlon affiliate goes for big basslines and big grooves. It's 1996, and a young Fumiya Tanaka is shelling out hefty yet minimal percussive techno at Club Rockets in Osaka to an audience enraptured. Released as Mix-Up, the 90-minute recording captures Tanaka sounding rather like Jeff Mills or Surgeon. It's far cry from the sound he's known for today, as one of the key figures among Perlon's coterie of DJs pushing restrained, funky cuts across the globe. Fumiya Tanaka's creative arc has seen him move away from these thunderous sounds to warmer shades of house and minimal. Since 2016, he's found a home on the inimitable German minimal label, crafting out a distinctive sound within the labels roster with an affection for tumbling basslines and spooky atmospheres. From 1996 to 2023, Tanaka ran a party series in Tokyo, Osaka and Berlin called "Chaos," which encapsulates the ethos of freedom Tanaka brings to a party. "When you hear music you've never heard before and encounter unknown territory, yo

Punk house and techno from a modern Midwest icon. Every DJ has their own genesis story: a pivotal sound, a formative scene, a defining philosophy. In Kiernan Laveaux's case, her philosophy, rooted in psychedelia and experimentation, sets her apart. Inspired by Nine Inch Nails, Depeche Mode and New Order, she came of age in Cleveland’s acid house and queer party scenes, developing an ethos that constantly pushes dance music’s limits. Her DJ style is scrambled (in the best way), with zany tricks like scratching, creative EQing and modulation. This approach reflects the Midwest's DIY tradition, where artists thrive in isolation and cultivate a radical disobedience, as seen in contemporaries like Eris Drew and ADAB. As Laveaux recounted in a 2023 interview with GROOVE Magazin, "Titonton Duvante once told me that being a Midwest DJ is about playing music from anywhere and making it sound like a piece of your spirit." Spanning two and a half hours, Laveaux's RA Podcast showcases this spirit. It’s a testament to

A dubstep legend roars back. When dubstep ruled the roost in the late '00s, electronic music had no shortage of icons and spinoff variants to rally around. But one rumble from Bristol stood out: the Purple sound. Popularised by Joker, AKA Liam Mclean, with Guido and Gemmy in support, it hit like a beam of bright light flooding through the basement dank. When America cottoned onto bass quakes in the next decade, Mclean's taste for chiptune-coded synths and maximum intensity kept his vision alive at arena level, even while he retreated from view as an actively touring performer. In 2023, "Tears," a collaboration with Skrillex and Sleepnet, helped remind the world just how much Joker's juddering sound could put us in a headlock. True to form, this year's gargantuan "Juggernaut"—Mclean's first solo single in six years—crashes through the speakers with as much glorious crunch as earlier classics like 2009's "Purple City." Mclean has kept busy in the studio applying his perfectionist streak as a producer and e

Dubstep-tech hybrids from one of 2024's most forward-thinking breakouts. Born in France to English parents, Beatrice M. is a product of two environments. And like many third culture kids, this lends the Rinse France resident and Bait label head a knack for seeing the realm of possibility beyond arbitrary borders and binaries. Beatrice M. is a part of a wider cohort of artists spearheading an elastic take on dubstep: take Carré and Introspekt in LA, EMA in Dublin and Mia Koden in London, to name a few. Collectively, they are not only pushing greater representation and diversity, but ensuring a broader palette of sounds find home within the genre's renaissance. Where dubstep got trapped down a brostep cul-de-sac in the early 2010s, 2020s already seems to be all about a charming phrase Beatrice M. employs: siblingstep. Their RA Podcast, a "full femme, non-binary, trans productions set," is testament to that. RA.961 finds Beatrice M. embracing the softer, more intimate edges of their sonic world. There's cuts