LATECRATES

Rezident’s ‘Feeling Fades’ record is a strange one because it doesn’t feel like it’s trying to impress you. The whole thing moves at its own pace, and for the first few tracks you’re not really sure where it’s going. Then track eight arrives, and it’s the one where the whole thing finally opens up. Everything before it is doing a slow lean into it, and then it just lets go for like ninety seconds and pulls back again.

The track is called ‘Bristol’ and it’s the only moment on the record that feels like it was built for a room full of people. The rest of the album is more headphone music, or early morning listening, but this one has a different kind of pulse. It’s not a big drop, not a festival moment, but there’s a weight to it. The drums have a bit more push, the bassline locks in a little deeper, and the pads start to swell in a way that feels like the sky is clearing.

It also feels like a bit of a statement for where Anjunadeep is heading. The label used to mean one very specific sound, then it drifted for a couple years into whatever, now it feels like it’s snapping back toward the original thing. This one fits that snap back. It’s warm, melodic, a little melancholy, but still functional. It’s the kind of track you could imagine closing a set at a festival as the sun is coming up, or opening one in a dark room where everyone’s just getting into it.

There’s a reason it’s sitting at track eight. You have to earn it. And you do.

Taylan’s ‘Last October’ is out now on Fractal Noise Records, and it’s one of those records that feels like it’s quietly telling you something, even while it’s moving your body.

Let me talk about where it actually sits. It’s not a peak-time banger, and it’s not a deep ambient drift. It’s that pocket in between, where the floor is still full but people are starting to move a little slower, with more intention. That’s where this track lives. And it’s got that turn about two thirds in that feels like the record changing its mind about what it wants to be. The drums drop back, something else opens up, and the whole thing tilts sideways for a second before it locks back in. It’s that moment that makes you look up and notice where you actually are.

This is going in the comedown slot, I think. Not full comedown, but more like the last stretch before that, when people are still moving but slower, and the room has that heavy, warm feeling. It fits there perfectly.

On the flip, ‘Better Off Alone’ does its own thing. The synth line in the back half is doing real work, defying the usual pattern where the second track just repeats the first. It’s a proper two-sided single, and that’s becoming rarer than it should be.

Lunar Plane, ‘I Feel For You’, on MoBlack Records, a single that makes its point through restraint rather than volume.

It opens on a low-slung, four-to-the-floor pulse, the kind that doesn’t ask for attention but holds it anyway. The vocal chop enters almost as a ghost, a phrase that repeats and repeats, never begging to be the centre of the record. It sits low in the mix, understated, while the percussion locks into a rolling, hypnotic groove. There are no dramatic drops, no stadium-sized builds, just a patient, hypnotic push that feels like it knows exactly where it is going.

That sense of knowing is the record’s real strength. It could easily be a loop that overstays its welcome, but Lunar Plane keeps every element in its right place, shifting textures subtly and letting the groove breathe. The result feels less like a dance track and more like a slow burn, the kind of thing that sounds better the longer you let it run. There is a purity to it, something almost minimal in the best sense, an idea executed with real discipline. It feels like an Apple record, not the computer, the label, the kind of clean, considered design that doesn't need to shout.

MoBlack Records has built its name on precisely this kind of release, music that is deep, functional and full of feeling. With ‘I Feel For You’, Lunar Plane fits right in, delivering a record that is as confident as it is quiet. It's not gonna change your life, it's just a nice small one.

Lost Desert brings a four-track package entitled ‘Saudade’ to All Day I Dream, out February 14, 2025, and it captures the imprint’s organic, melodic sound.

Title track ‘Saudade’ is solid, a warm and rolling journey with plucked strings and airy pads. But the real highlight for me is the closing cut, ‘Dunes Of Alula’, its percussive elements in the second half have a distinct character, not just a loop that gets progressively quieter. There’s a subtle textural shift that rewards attentive listening.

‘Dear To Me’ is one I’d skip if I had to pick. It lands in that classic track-two spot, it’s just kind of there, a placeholder rather than a destination.

'When Sun Rises (Volen Sentir Extended Remix)' rounds out the tracklist, decent enough for mixing but not the reason to come back.

Voya, ‘Serenity’, on Panda Lab Records, a deep, rolling piece of melodic techno that strips things back to the essentials and lets the groove breathe.

This one’s got this really patient opening, like almost two minutes before anything properly kicks in. Not in a boring way, though. It’s actually using the space, building that tension, letting you feel the room before the drums slide in. It’s a proper lesson in restraint, that kind of thing that gets lost when everyone’s trying to cram a drop into every thirty seconds.

When it does move, it moves with a quiet confidence. No big theatrics, just a solid, hypnotic pulse that locks you in. The melody sits on top, subtle, not screaming for attention, but you notice when it’s gone. It’s the kind of record that works best when you’re not necessarily looking at the DJ, just letting the sound wrap around you.

Panda Lab has been putting out some tidy stuff lately, and this feels right at home there. If you’re after something that doesn’t need to shout to be heard, this is it.

MYRNE has landed on This Never Happened with a new single.

Titled ‘Heal’, the track dropped on January 2nd, 2025, marking a fresh start for the artist and the label in a year that's just getting going.

It’s not trying to be a moment. It’s a "everyone's a little tired but still dancing" record. Like 2am, not midnight. A late-night record for the last hour of the night, the kind that keeps hands in the air without demanding a single ounce of extra energy from you.

There's a flicker of the small-label instinct here that this label is already doing a lot of work without announcing it, but that’s just a passing observation.

The track runs at 122 BPM and sits in a 7B key, built to glide between house and melodic territory without landing too hard on either side.

It's just one track. No filler, no remixes to pad it out. Short, sweet, and to the point. If you need a reset button for your night, this is it.

There is a track called 'Ballad for the Lonely.', released on December 3rd, 2024, and the artist is called River. The label is River.

That's about all the way through, the release has one track, and the sound is a deep house production with a slow, weighted pulse and a vocal that sits somewhere between a memory and a direct address.

And that's where the honest description ends, because the wider catalog does not resolve into a clean genre lane. There's a deep house thread, sure. But there's also R&B, hip-hop adjacent work, pop-leaning material, and a collaborative history that doesn't fit a single scene narrative. So the question of "what kind of act River actually is" stays open. Not because it's unanswerable, but because the available information genuinely doesn't settle it.

The track itself doesn't need that answer. It has its own gravity. The vocal is the anchor, and whatever it's saying, it's saying it slowly. The production doesn't rush to explain it. And the listener doesn't need to know who the "she" is, or what the "rest of the time" looks like, for the track to hold weight. It works on its own.

So this is not a post about a rising star with a clear trajectory, or a debut on a curated imprint with a nice little backstory. It's a post about one track, by an artist whose catalog contains multiple plausible versions of itself, and the track still earns the attention regardless.

That's the whole thing. It's out now.