RA Podcast

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

A new record for the longest RA Podcast ever: Ten hours from the powerhouse duo sweeping techno, Chlär and Alarico. Both commanding performers in their own right, sparks fly when the Swiss-Italian duo of Funk Assault combine. The buzz surrounding their productions, DJing and their label Primal Instinct is at fever pitch, and short wonder: when it comes to gritty, high-impact sets that barrel through multiple shades of techno, few are in their league right now. RA.960 was laid down at Watergate this March during a signature Funk Assault marathon. The pair ramp up incrementally, and even before they hit top velocity, you can hear them ripping through records with tenacity and verve. You don't need elbows in your face to tell the place is rocking. We're informed that ID'ing the set would probably take longer than playing it (fair enough), so no tracklist for this one. Instead, fill in the blanks at your leisure. As well as 150+ BPM stompers and groove wormholes, there's everything from tribal to ballroom, ele

Effervescent club cuts from one of Southeast Asia's rising DJ stars. In Indonesia, the term santai (relaxed) is more than just an adjective—it's a lifestyle, one endearingly embodied by DITA. The Bandung-born, Bali-rooted DJ's breezy attitude to life is reflected in dreamy, blissful euphoria. DITA's RA Podcast is a window into both her disposition and sound, blending wiggly breakbeat into tweaking acid, Detroit house into Spanish electro, Balearic to '90s house and some grittier club fare, too. Her sets are rooted in a feel-good philosophy that allows her to freely play with energy and mood. Don't just take our word for it: DJ Harvey is a major fan and hand-picked DITA to be a resident at his new club Klymax, nestled within the world-renowned Potato Head Bali, where DITA is also Head of Music. With gigs at everywhere from Panorama Bar (the first Indonesian woman to play) to Rainbow Disco Club and Dekmantel under her belt, the world is now taking notice of DITA's killer groove. A breakout 2025 surely beckon

A journey through 35 years of house from the godfather of UK rave. In popular mythology, the '90s are without question, the halcyon days of dance music—an era of free raves and unadulterated hedonism. It's a myth that Matthew Nelson, AKA Slipmatt, knows better than most–he was there. During the late '80s, as the rave scene in the UK began to boom, Nelson began moonlighting as a DJ. He would land his first residency at Raindance, the East London rave that launched in September 1989 and would become the UK's first legal rave. By 1991 , he'd reach number two in the UK charts with "On A Ragga Tip" as one-half of SL2 and two years later, sell over 10,000 copies of SMD#1. Nelson has got a lot to share (as you'll see in his interview) so we'll let him do the talking. He's been variously called the godfather of rave and happy hardcore, but what you'll hear on RA.958 is as "a journey through my 35 years of house." A DJ with this much pedigree brings much more than that, of course: touching on the breakbeat, jungl

The singular Príncipe artist showcases her shapeshifting sound. Before she was simply Nídia, Nídia Borges was Nídia Minaj. Modelled after a musical idol of hers, Nicki Minaj, in 2017, she shed the borrowed surname. As she later said in an interview with The New York Times, "Today I have my own identity. I'm not going to imitate something that someone has done already." And Nídia couldn't be further from an imitator. As the Lisbon label's sole non-male, her body of work stands apart even within Príncipe's unique sonic universe. She traverses a broader emotional territory and extends to collaborations with Fever Ray, Kelela and Yaeji. Her RA Podcast is a restless affair–60 minutes of pushing, pulling, tiptoeing and gliding through the sounds of the Príncipe universe. True to the label's communitarian foundations, the mix contains predominantly original and unreleased material from her colleagues. In 2014, DJ Lilocox told RA: "Whatever your age, skin colour, sexual orientation, money in the wallet, clothes

Maximalist house from the sibling duo at the forefront of Berlin's new wave. Berlin is built on dance music. But of the many DJs who live, work and play there, few represent the evolution in the city's club culture like Tania and Dominik Humeres-Correa, AKA S-candalo. If the city was once governed by the tyranny of minimal, the post-pandemic era has cemented its reputation as the spot for "more-is-more" club soundtracks. It's still house and techno, but the chords are big, the drums are big and the basslines are even bigger. Nowadays, S-candalo are firm favourites at hotspots across the German capital, from Panorama Bar to Multisex and Radiant Love (not forgetting La Noche, their own burgeoning party). The duo find rich inspiration in '90s-era Latin house, a sound that takes New York house and incorporates rolling percussion from Latin genres such as samba, popularised on labels like Cutting Records and Strictly Rhythm (there's not one but two records from the latter in this mix). RA.956 fittingly lands

Living, breathing, banging techno from an artist defining the highly-textured new frontier of the sound in 2024. Lindsey Wang, AKA Polygonia, has an amorphous style you could call organic—or, better yet, harmonious. She interweaves unfamiliar elements with a mercurial touch. Wang can make something completely otherworldly sound totally, well, natural. It's made her a fixture everywhere from Munich's BLITZ to major festivals like Sustain-Release and Draaimolen. Unsurprisingly, Wang is not one to be pinned down. Be it the sound design-anchored side project Lyder, her own label QEONE, or co-producing an album's worth of experimental percussion alongside jazz drummer Simon Popp, it's fair to say her personal output matches the feverish energy of her mixes. There's multidisciplinary, and then there's Wang: Poly-disciplinary, you might say. Wang's entry into the RA Podcast series is no different, another stellar emphasis of her artistry. RA.955 is a voyage into wild variations of texture, rhythm and feeling, gui